Kirjahaku

In these essays on seemingly diverse topics, from the ways certain places call us to what life is like on a farm in Canada to teaching English in Boston, Jessica Harman captures the humor and paradoxical nature of human experience. Often talking about her family that contains both American and Canadian components, she takes a funny look at the practical and whimsical sides of both cultures while comparing them. Using her bi-cultural roots as a touchstone while talking about her life, she weaves in various subjects. Some essays are about personal trajectory in life. Others are about family. Still others are about love. There is a bit of almost everything as Harman talks about life with a wry sense of humor.

This is a full-length poetry collection by Jessica Harman. Love, humor, friendship, metaphor, hotel rooms

The phone rang at the right hand side of the counter, the side behind which everyone left their winter coats. It was October, and already cold. It was even cold for Montreal. Jane skipped past Big Toenails, nearly pushing him aside, and answered the phone, in French, of course, "Bonjour. Movieland." "Moki moki." Someone said to Jane. Jane said, "What?" "We want to know how to spell Jimminy Cricket, please." Jane said, "I don't know." The voice asked, "Could you find out?" Jane, instead of looking it up in the computer, went to get the box in the kid's section. She knew where the box was, even though she had only rented it to people twice, because she had a photographic memory for things that mattered. When she got back on the phone, no one was there. Dead air. She hung up.

Music, silence, friendship, romance: what do all these things have to do with each other? As a woman explores her connection in an existential way to a close friend who is a drummer, though nothing much happens except coffee and a walk over a bridge, read what she thinks about what she gets from her cherished friend. It is said that "The only true journey is into the heart of another," but also it that, "The only true journey is within." In "Ten Words for Love in a Silent Language," we see how both journeys actually often happen at once: the more we know another person, the more we learn about ourselves, and vice versa. This is a tale of coffee, long walks, and an unsuccessful romance saved by the fact that two people actually like each other, though "not in that way."

When one is young, everyone seems to be in love with everyone else. This story, "Vulnerability," is about a young woman in college who feels life brimming with possibility. It is 1996. She is in love, but still somehow unfulfilled. She has a metaphysics paper to write on the structure of the universe. She hands in stories to fiction workshop that are probably written, as this story is, with humor. What if Hemmingway wrote chick-lit? There's nowhere particularly to get to, except for into the heart of another.

Enter the world of a schizophrenic woman who has a nervous breakdown in Penn Station, New York City. Things could be going better for her on her trip to Baltimore. To top it off, she has polka-dot luggage, which makes her stand out even more. She tries to get a grip on whatever there is to get a grip on, but her mind is good at absorbing chaos. Can she find help? Why does this happen to her? Join her on her journey as she reaches out to others to steady herself, and gain back her balance, while having a bit of fun along the way. She meets people and she writes poetry. She is bitter but passi