In Tidal Flats, Cass’s father loved his leather-bound edition of Rumi’s poems, Rumi who was born in Afghanistan. Instead of bedtime stories, he read to Cass from Rumi. And Cass would lie in her closet underneath her dresses and think about elephants tearing the darkness to shreds. The Essential Rumi has been on my shelf since I met Coleman Barks back in 2005, but I read it cover to cover, more than once, as I was working on this novel.

Cass works at Howell House, the home to three unusual women referred to as the Fates. One of them, May, loves The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers. Cass reads to her from this book that I did not like when I read it in high school. But I fell in love with it when I read it years later after moving to Columbus, recognizing the red brick buildings of both our worlds.

Although Cass had a lonely childhood, early on it was full of a pleasant darkness that gave way to imagination. As an adult, her best friend, Vee, gives her The Journal of a Solitude by May Sarton in an attempt to help her become comfortable with being alone during Ethan’s long absences.

There’s something about Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Truman Capote. It has inspired me with other books I’ve written too. Here, in Tidal Flats, it has a small part near the end of the novel when a stranger mentions it to Cass.

I’m grateful to every book I’ve ever read. And at this moment in time, to these in particular.

In New York last weekend, Cal and I saw Memphis, the 2010 Tony Award Winner for Best Musical. It was GREAT!

Saturday, we ate breakfast outside (despite the cold weather) at Sarabeth’s on the park.

At The Museum of Modern Art, we saw:

• Picasso Guitars 1912-1914,
• Andy Warhol Motion Pictures–12 or 14 giant screens, showing facial close-ups,
• and an exhibit on Abstract Expressionist New York, featuring Jackson Pollack.

In striking contrast to Picasso’s assurance was Pollack’s self-doubt. About the metal sculpture Picasso made of a guitar, people asked, “What is it, painting or sculpture?” Picasso answered, “It’s nothing, it’s el guitare!” On the other hand, “once, after completing a new piece, Pollack asked his wife, Lee Krasner, ‘Is this a painting?'”

Saturday night was the revival of Tom Stoppard’s Arcadia, which I was glad to see but which was somewhat tedious, both in dialogue and acting. Also, the actors whose performances I enjoyed most were the ones with whom the critics found the most fault.

Sunday was a 3-hour walk from Times Square to Soho and then brunch at Commerce, a wonderful little restaurant tucked into a residential neighborhood in Greenwich Village, large murals by David Joel. I highly recommend the doughnuts.

Monday morning was a blur of rain and umbrellas as I headed for the airport, full of inspiration and good food.

Tied with Memphis for my favorite part of the trip was seeing Picasso’s obsession with guitars and seeing how each expression was different from, and fed on or off of, the others. A digital version of his sketchbook was available.

Chad Kimball sings “Memphis Lives in Me:”