Fourteen Days:  And That Was Just The Beginning . . . 

Fourteen Days: A Collaborative Novel, edited by Margaret Atwood and Douglas Preston, may eventually be dubbed “historical fiction.” But, first, it truly is collaborative. The book is a story collection, unified by Covid-19. As New York City (and the world) goes into quarantine at the onslaught of Covid in the spring of 2020, a Lower East Side Manhattan tenement sees its hodgepodge of residents gather nightly on the roof to tell stories. The kicker? The Authors’ Guild is actually gathering. Charlie Jane Anders, Margaret Atwood, Joseph Cassara, Jennine Capó Crucet, Angie Cruz, Pat Cummings, Sylvia Day, Emma Donoghue, Dave Eggers, Diana Gabaldon, Tess Gerritsen, John Grisham, Maria Hinojosa, Mira Jacob, Erica Jong, CJ Lyons, Celeste Ng, Tommy Orange, Mary Pope Osborne, Douglas Preston, Alice Randall, Ishmael Reed, Roxana Robinson, Nelly Rosario, James Shapiro, Hampton Sides, R.L. Stine, Nafissa Thompson-Spires, Monique Truong, Scott Turow, Luis Alberto Urrea, Rachel Vail, Weike Wang, Caroline Randall Williams, De’Shawn Charles Winslow, and Meg Wolitzer are the rooftop collaborators portraying a group of New Yorkers who likely wouldn’t hang out together, but the situation is such that this group’s only chance of human interaction is each other. . 

Jennifer: Who wants to criticize a book written by topnotch writers with the proceeds raised going to charities?

I feel as if the quote below is important to know. It’s straight off The Authors’ Guild website, but the bolded parts are parts I chose to emphasize: 

The novel’s unique format, omitting bylines until the end of the novel, emphasizes the collective over the individual, challenging the traditional concept of authorship.

“It’s a statement of inclusion,” says Preston. “Accepting all genres, all types of writers without plugging everyone into a hierarchy.”

Preston conceived of the project as a fundraising vehicle to support the Authors Guild Foundation’s advocacy and educational work. A survey of Authors Guild members showed that a staggering 71.4 percent of its writers experienced an income decline of as much as 49 percent during the pandemic due to delayed publishing dates, canceled book tours, readings and lectures, lost writing assignments, and other work. The Guild succeeded in pushing forth legislation that revised the COVID relief package to include freelance writers. Proceeds from sales of the book will continue to fund the Guild’s educational programming and advocacy work in Washington, D.C., and beyond.

Mary Rasenberger, CEO of the Authors Guild says, “Fourteen Days is not only an imaginative literary experiment but also an act of catharsis. It probes the abiding questions of our pandemic psyche in ways history and straight reportage may not fully capture, exploring what we lost and gained, how we coped, and how delving into the creation of stories, during a time of many unknowns, sustained us.”

Lara: I don’t know if I have ever told you my movie theory. I have this theory that a movie with a lot of characters, and all of them are BIG NAME celebrities, is not good. Of course there are exceptions. But when it’s known name after known name after known name… I am convinced the budget was spent on the acting talent, so something has to suffer. It’s often the story. I feel a little like that’s what happened here.

The idea of a collaborative novel, in theory, is great. In execution, I think it didn’t live up to what it could have. That said, because of my movie theory, I went in with super low expectations. I ended up liking it more than I expected; but, I didn’t love it. 

Jennifer: I never heard your theory, but it sounds right! I guess I’d have to say that I thought the book was meh. And I think it’s mostly a philosophical issue. Issues. First, I think I still believe in the so-called “myth” of the Artist (uppercase “A” – my Scarlet A). I believe that Art is often a singular vision, an amazing revelation created mysteriously by uniquely gifted INDIVIDUALS. (I know, I know: this is archaic. I like to think of writers and artists wearing all black, having tilted berets on top of their heads, and seeing deep into our souls with great sensitivity.) While I think the Western Canon is absurdly white and male, I do think that there’s something individualistic about great Art.

So I felt as if there were too many cooks in the kitchen? Diluting the cuisine?

Lara: Wait a minute. What about the ART of dance, music, a community-produced mural, etc.? Those are possible and even better when you look at the collection rather than an individual’s contribution. 

Jennifer: You have a point. Though, my guess is that there is STILL a singular creator. Dance involves many. There is an Alvin Ailey behind every troupe. A Martha Graham. . . Music? Mozart? Is Bono greater than Edge? No. So, yeah, you got me there.

I don’t know. Writing might be unique. Co-written books I loved? I liked Amber Ruffin’s book with her sister, Lacey. Amber’s kinda the lead there, right?  

Lara: So, I know you are a superfan of the American version of The Office, going so far as to say it’s Art. That’s a show with a writing team. Yes, you have lead writers who are responsible for the theme and majority of an episode or story arc, but at the end of the day, there can be successful creative collaborations and some are clearly more successful than others. 

Jennifer:  Dear Lord, I LOVE The Office. Maybe you got me. Maybe

Lara: Dear readers, I clearly got her.

Jennifer: Let me bring up my other philosophical point. Besides my idolatry of the Artist, I found the book to be politically didactic. 

I’m not against bringing politics into my fiction (I tend to be a woman of strong opinion). I guess I’d say that Art is best when its politics are somehow “organic.” I reference this book below, but I just read Julie Otsuka’s The Buddha in the Attic–I think I learned quite a bit about Japanese women leaving Japan for America before WWII and then experiencing the Internment of Japanese-Americans. But I didn’t just learn . . . I was overwhelmed by the truths surrounding their plight. And fiction can do that. It can sway opinion without didacticism. Injustices are shown, organically. Not sure I’m saying this right.

Lara: I would agree that there wasn’t a lot of swaying of opinion in this book. Or an ability to create real connection with any character. I did like that the book promoted the value of story–telling them, listening to them, engaging with them– 

Jennifer: I would agree that storytelling is essential for humanity and absolutely important–

Lara:  And there were a few characters who told stories as they lived through lockdown that I liked: The ER doctor who knew a Franciscan nun and nurse that could smell when death was imminent (written by Tess Gerritsen); the resident known as Eurovision who shared a heartbreaking and then happy story about two gay friends navigating New York’s adoption process (written by Emma Donoghue); and the building super’s story of a woman she heard at an open mic night that may have involved a justified crime (written by Dave Eggers, who I don’t typically love). 

Jennifer: You made a funny reference to Dave Eggers when I mentioned him (see my comment below). You said he was like the Wes Anderson of Literature. He’s cool to say you like.

Let it be known that I’m not a Wes Anderson fan, but I am an Eggers fan!

I think I was more excited for certain authors than for others: Atwood, Eggers, Mira Jacob, Tommy Orange . . .  I don’t know if stories stood out to me! Maybe Eggers’ story?

I always love a good New York story, though. . . 

My favorite representations of New York City are actually community-based, I think? Spike Lee’s Bed-Stuy in Do The Right Thing, James Baldwin’s Harlem in Go Tell It On The Mountain, the absurd New York of TV’s Succession. Even Sesame Street, “organically” diverse. 

So was this “authentic” or utopian? A facade? 

Lara: It did feel authentic, in that the writers brought to life a diverse cast of characters I would expect to see in a New York tenement building. It felt like real New York. Some of the stories the residents shared had a level of detail that didn’t seem realistic for people to remember, but maybe my own poor memory is creating a bias there.  Did any part of the book work for you?

Jennifer:  I don’t know. I have another thing that bugged me! I kinda wanted to know who wrote what, like, the whole time. And I was under the impression that it wasn’t revealed. No individual credit. Though I was perturbed, I also thought it was a bit noble. Admirable. A real show of collaboration!

But then they take individual credit in the contributor’s notes.

Oh well.

Okay, I liked the twist at the end. There’s a surprise!

What was your favorite part?

Lara: The twist at the end IS good and one of the best parts of the book. Is it fair to say that I love that this project, of which all proceeds are going to literary causes such as fighting book-banning, is truly my favorite part of this collaborative experiment? That’s probably not fair.

Here are a few passages that stood out to me. Don’t make me tell you what stories/writers they came from!

“CBS News announced that there were more 911 calls received today than on September, 11, 2011. I think about that for a moment. All of those ambulances. A city full of 9/11s.”

And 

“In the silence intruded a faraway siren, of course, as always, with its whisper of a distant pain.”

And

“Because the most flawed people are the most reckless and generous with their love.”

I mean, there’s some good writing here.

Jennifer: What else have you been reading?

I feel as if I’ve had a ton on the table. I’m reading Dave Eggers’ Heroes of the Frontier–maybe an Alaskan road trip novel, except it’s with a mom and her two kids. With every Eggers book, I realize I love his stuff. I just finished Julie Otsuka’s The Buddha in the Attic, and now I’m reading the book that came before it: When the Emperor Was Divine. Both are rather stellar novellas on the plight of Japanese-Americans before and during World War Two. I finished Ari Herstand’s mega-text, How to Make It in the New Music Business, as research for my own novel-in-progress. And I’ll stop there because I’ve got more. 

Lara: It has been a bit of a mixed bag for me. I read a VERY dark novel, Strange Sally Diamond by Liz Nugent. It was billed as being something like Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman and let’s just say it was not. It’s not for anyone who considers themselves a highly sensitive reader and if you benefit from knowing trigger warnings before going in, I would recommend it. That said, I thought it was good. I was pleasantly surprised by Shelby Van Pelt’s Remarkably Bright Creatures, I read Tommy Orange’s sophomore effort Wandering Stars which is important. Underwhelming reads for me were Marie-Helene Bertino’s Beautyland.

Next Up! 

Join us next time for a moving memoir, You Could Make This Place Beautiful by Maggie Smith (the poet, not the Dame).