Books on resilience deliver special resonance in time of coronavirus crisis

Stories of individual strength and serenity in the midst of upheaval have special resonance today, writers Connie Schultz and Jon Mooallem said Wednesday.

In a video chat organized by the National Press Club Journalism Institute, the two veteran journalists described how the protagonists in each of their new books share common ground with the journalists and essential workers of the current pandemic.

Schultz, a Pulitzer Prize winning columnist, will be out in June with "Daughters of Erietown," the story of a family facing adversity in an Ohio town. Mooallem’s book, "This is Chance," is a detailed account of a devastating 1964 Alaska earthquake. Schultz’ book is a novel, her first, and  spans six decades. Mooallem’s is a non-fiction chronicle of three remarkable days in Anchorage as seen through the eyes of radio reporter Genie Chance.

The two writers discussed their approaches to writing, the emotions that motivate them, and the research that created their sense of time and place as part of a series of NPCJI video programs.

“Writing is my normal,” Schultz said.

She urged writers to document the current moment and to interview those who are living through it, including the aged and the workers who must still go to their places of employment while others shelter at home.

 “My novel includes two … main characters (who) are essential workers -- a utility worker and a nurse's aide, which is what my parents were. Were they alive now and of working age, they would have to work and I'd really be worried about them,” she said. “Grandparents you can't see, siblings, loved ones -- interviewing them is good for you because it keeps you finely tuned to the world around you, to what people are thinking and feeling. And it's wonderful for them  because seldom does anyone ask what they're thinking or how they feel.”

The Alaska earthquake, Mooallem said, illustrated the value of reliable and honest information to the resilience of a community.

“Having reporters there telling the community what was happening and what needed to be done, really became like a glue that held people together,” he said. “We need that kind of communication. We're seeing a real lack of it now, I think, which causes a lot of confusion and uncertainty and fear.”

Both said they look for an emotion that motivates the people they write about.

“I would say fear is one of the things that most intrigues me because fear is always about something else,” Schultz said. “So much of what has intrigued me over time is what makes people afraid. And can we get to the other layers of that so that we can, first of all, understand that better. And secondly, perhaps to silence it somewhat in ourselves to live our bigger lives."

Mooallem said he is drawn to people who are frustrated or thwarted. 

“When someone is feeling frustrated, it means they're probably in a pretty fascinating predicament,” he said. “There's a good story there to tell. It brings up questions of, how do they think this thing should be going, and what idealism is inherent there. It's sort of their vision of how things should be meeting a clumsier version of reality.”

Whether writing fiction or nonfiction, both said research is essential to establishing a sense of place.

Genie Chance, Mooallem said, left behind letters, diaries, recordings of radio broadcasts, “forty boxes of stuff in her daughter's basement, starting with the lock of her baby hair.”

Schultz, noting that a train case is a recurrent feature in her book, found one from the 1950s on eBay. “I bought it,” she said, “because I needed to see it, feel it, touch it, smell it.”