Housekeeping and the Literary Art

A Broom of One's Own - Nancy Peacock

Confession: I'm quite bad at cleaning. If you read my other blog, you may have gathered as much. If I were to pursue a career in the arts and needed to support myself with a day job, I'd do much better as, say, a pet sitter, or a high school calculus tutor.

Not so novelist Nancy Peacock, who, even after publication of two books continued her work as independent cleaning lady to make ends meet. In this quirky memoir, Peacock reflects on the intersection of life as housekeeper and author. I came away with great respect for her tenacity - in addition to the frustrations inherent to any service job (please, flush the toilet before the cleaning lady comes) and the uncertainties of a writing career (how many rejection letters can I collect this week?), she fought the discouragement of her literary peers' discomfort with her circumstances and lack of formal education, and the feedback of elderly clients who enthusiastically informed her that her books weren't nearly as good as Bridget Jones' Diary.

Still, she points out the advantages of her situation. A writer benefits from time alone, but away from the page; manual distraction is healthy for the narrative; you can learn a lot of useful stuff in other people's houses. Between the anecdotes and reflections contained in the book's essays and the interviews and advice from the author at the end, I imagine this book could be an encouragement to the aspiring writer who's willing to face reality - Peacock is honest about the struggles and disappointments of her literary career thus far without descending into languid cynicism. And it's that last part that I most respect these days, cynic though I am myself.

Incidentally, I've never read either of Peacock's novels, and after finishing this book checked for them at my local bookstores (I won't suggest this was the aim, since I just finished praising lack of cynicism), but didn't find them anywhere. I'm not sure they sound like quite my thing, but I'm curious, and I'll keep an eye out.