The charming homes of Iowa City.
Death to McMansions!
I’m in The Hawkeye State for a three-week fiction workshop and am itching to share a peek into the absolute charm that is Iowa City—a town that looms large in the literary imagination! But the workshop has me writing and reading too many words to find the time for a long letter; also, I’m in the honeymoon phase of travel where I’m liable to write a hagiography. So I’ll keep the words brief and stick to photos, mostly of the personality-filled homes, which are, perhaps, the town’s most endearing feature. They are a welcome break from the stucco McMansions that symbolize “success” in most of the rest of North America.
I can see why people, and especially writers, fall for the lifestyle here. Between the largely-vacant university and humidity in the high eighties (thanks, in part, to “corn sweats”, where mature corn plants release massive amounts of moisture to air), the energy is languid. Last night’s muggy walk home from The Fox Head after a few $3 beers—where I met the locals who taught me about “corn sweats”—was accompanied by the song of cicadas, fireflies dancing in the lawns, and Deer sniffing through the colourful gardens most residents keep. The Fox Head, like every other shop in the town, is independently-owned—not a chain or big business in sight—accessibly priced, and staffed by friendly students. Dey House, where the workshop is held, is exactly as shambolic as I’d hoped: memorabilia strewn about; technology failing and no one cares to fix it (aside from the precious printers, which hum non-stop in the background); stacks of paper occupying every surface.
My workshop is led by Ada Zhang, a writer I respect. Her debut story collection was impressive, as is her capacity to facilitate a workshop. This is my first “academic” writing experience of any kind, and I have many thoughts, which I’m sure will inform a future letter.
OK, that’s my attempt to “keep it brief”. Back to work. Bye for now.
