Nearly every novelist of the last half-century, at least, must have had moments of dreaming of a screen adaptation. (And, yes, nearly every one that was adapted was never as good as the book. Oh, well.)
As a critical aside, we’ve seen too many novels that were thinly disguised screenplays. Yet while my new novel was created as a purely literary effort, I’m impressed by great cinema.
If we had a movie version of What’s Left, who would you have play Cassia’s aunt Pia?
In my new novel, What’s Left, her aunt Pia is the epitome of bohemian possibility, even after being scorched by its downside. She’s the one who’s lived on communes; in contrast, Cassia’s father and aunt Nita had merely paid their share on an abandoned farm filled with other hip renters. Pia’s the one who witnessed drug busts and overdoses or worse, she simply went hungry.
As she recovers in the midst of Cassia’s extended family, her bohemian tastes find welcome expression in food and fabric and childlike wonder, especially. She’s hardworking and responsible, especially amid the circus she creates.
For Cassia’s generation, of course, hippie is old hat. But her aunt Pia is someone they see as special. Wouldn’t you?
Watching Pia was like watching a flower emerge from the soil and then bloom. The girl arrives destitute and broken and is given space to heal or regroup.
Whatever haven we offer is gratefully embraced.
She mends clothes. Tends the garden. Sits with us as we ride our White Cloud thrones.
I can’t evade the question any longer. What comes to your mind when you hear the word “hippie”? Do you prefer “boho”? Or does some other term work better these days? Is it positive … or negative?
In the family, Cassia may have had food like this.
As Cassia reconstructs the household when her father-to-be first shows up, she sees multiple currents in motion.
As she observed in an earlier version of my new novel, What’s Left:
Dimitri’s primarily about family duty. Too many have worked too hard to get us here. For Barney, that’s steam and splatter and sudsy sinks. Tito and Manoula are essentially on hold, preparing for their own futures – college for her, law school for him.
In another version of the story, Tito and Manoula’s futures could have been thwarted at this point. Dimitri may have required their help in the restaurant and real estate ventures.
Something similar happened with my grandfather, whose classroom education ended at elementary school because he was needed on the farm. Later, though, he did learn the plumbing trade from his two older brothers.
With Cassia’s family, though, they were agreed on a plan. They all worked together to assure it.
What’s your No. 1 goal these days? What support do you need? How are you arranging it?
For me, her uncle Tito originates as a problematic character. I have no idea what prompted me to create him nearly five decades ago in the closing chapter of my first published novel, but he does change the dynamic of the family that Cassia’s father-to-be joins.
Having five siblings rather than four avoids the symmetry of two brothers and two sisters, for one thing, and as an odd number, five pushes us away from possible gridlock. But advancing the story another generation, as I do in my new novel, What’s Left, means we’ll have more characters to follow, once we add spouses and children.
Without him, my new novel would be tighter, since all of Cassia’s close cousins would come from Barney and Pia. Well, maybe Dimitri and/or Nita would have to be recast, too, losing some of the story’s diversity and depth. The plot itself would likely pivot on the sibling rivalry of Dimitri and Barney, and I’m not sure we’d have the impetus for expanding the family enterprise that I, for one, find exciting. The status quo could continue, with the story’s focus on day to day interactions more than transformation of the larger community. The mantle of patriarch, too, would fall differently.
Her uncle Barney undergoes a remarkable awakening in my new novel, What’s Left. Instead of going to college, he stays home and soon finds himself fully responsible for managing the kitchen of the family restaurant.
He has, though, tasted the social upheavals in the wider world and quietly rebelled at the strictures of his parents. The status quo is endangered.
The return of his older brother, Dimitri, changes everything. Barney is pressed to expand the menu into dishes drawn from unfamiliar cuisines, flavors, and ingredients, and that requires mastering more demanding techniques and advancing his ability to taste subtle nuances. All of that puts him at the center of intense debate and experimentation, abetted by his wife, the lively Pia, plus the family circle of Graham, Nita, Yin, and Cassia’s father, even before their business expands into related food fields including a bakery, a brewery, and a natural foods grocery.
It’s a lot to put on his plate, but I know it can be done. Barney has that kind of curiosity, for one thing, and a tongue to match.
As Cassia discovers, in a passage that’s evaporated from the final version:
Barney’s into astrology and palmistry, through the grandmothers. When I ask about drugs, all I’m told is, Not the hard stuff. And even with the Buddhism, for him, hippie is about the music, more than anything else – as you’d hear in Carmichael’s kitchen, night and day.
Let’s get back to basics. Imagine yourself sitting down with this group for a night off. They’re phoning an order for home delivery. What’s your favorite pizza? Why? Who do you think wants the one with anchovy?