Other Writing

Cup of Jo, January 18, 2023

My father’s hands were tan with dark blue veins. His left hand was darker than his right, from years of smoking a cigar out the window of his 1965 Mustang.

During synagogue services, we often played a game where he’d make a tight fist and I’d tried to pry his fingers loose, one by one. Once all the fingers were released, I’d draw letters on his palm and slide my fingers along his veins, pretending I could move the blood to his wrists. His nails were always short with rounded edges and buffed to a shine. This was due to weekly professional manicures.

When I was growing up in the ’70s and ’80s, I was embarrassed by my father’s weekly manicures. I found it strange to think of him entering what I considered a woman’s space to do a woman’s thing. But by the time I reached college, I was bragging about my father’s peculiar ritual. To me, it said a lot about him. 

Cup of Jo, December 16, 2021

My mother was concerned and texting me about her elderly dog. I asked if he was breathing and no, Wilbur was not breathing. He had collapsed soon after peeing. I told my mother to put a towel over him and I would be there as soon as possible. It was already a busy day. My novel was coming out in two months and I needed to respond to emails before picking up the kids from a local park. But trouble worships at the altar of inconvenience.

Later that night, after transporting the corpse to the vet, I found the lump in my breast.

LA REVIEW OF BOOKS, AUGUST 6, 2021

REBECCA HANDLER IS a writer who lives and works in San Francisco. Her stories have been published in several anthologies, and she blogs regularly. Edie Richter is Not Alone (2021) is her debut novel — of which, in a starred review, Booklist writes, “Handler’s Edie has joined the ranks of unforgettably eccentric, intelligent women protagonists.” A Kirkus starred review calls it a “tragicomic exploration of the collateral damage of Alzheimer’s disease. […] Handler gets it right from the title on out. Edie is definitely not alone.”

Vendela Vida is the award-winning author of six books, including We Run the Tides (2021), The Diver’s Clothes Lie Empty (2015), and Let the Northern Lights Erase Your Name (2008). She is a founding editor of The Believer magazine, and co-editor of The Believer Book of Writers Talking to Writers (2008). She was a founding board member of 826 Valencia, the San Francisco writing center for youth, and lives in the Bay Area with her family. Author photo by Lili Peper.

In this conversation, conducted via email in June, the two writers discuss their working methods, the power of setting in fiction, the importance of endings, and the need to find space to write.

Rebecca Handler on Exploring Alternate Narrative Paths

Literary Hub, March 11, 2021

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Don’t sing “You Are My Sunshine” to your father on his deathbed. Trust me, looking back now, it was a poor choice. I just didn’t consider how ubiquitous it is; in fact, yesterday, a group of preschool children were singing it right outside my office window. On their way to the park in single file, wearing fluorescent orange vests over their t-shirts and overalls, holding onto a rope, they sang, “You make me happy when skies are grey.” I resisted the urge to call out the window, “My dad died to that song. Have fun on the slide!”