In the stacks with Erika Hayasaki

Erika Hayasaki is the author of two books, most recently 2022's Somewhere Sisters: A Story of Identity, Adoption and the Meaning of Family—which is the fascinating tale of identical twins who were born in Vietnam, raised on opposite sides of the world, and then come back together. A former LA Times reporter, Erika also teaches as an associate professor of literary journalism at the Center for Storytelling at the University of California, Irvine.

I spoke to her recently about her reading habits—and how what she read informed her own work.

What inspires you as a reader, as a writer, and as an educator?

I teach in the literary journalism program at UC Irvine, it's within the English department and has always been very focused on narrative non-fiction. So all the students in that class go through an introductory class where they read and they talk about the ethics of nonfiction, so they read [Truman Capote’s] In Cold Blood and [John Hersey’s] Hiroshima. That was a book I read when I was like 13, actually, so that's always been very influential.

Over the years, I've taught a lot of the kind of traditional narrative non-fiction books that we have come to know and love, like Jon Krakauer's Into The Wild. So I've read a lot of the traditional narrative non-fiction books, I appreciate them and I do find many of them inspiring.

Nowadays, I'm sort of looking at different forms that are hybrid models for narrative non-fiction, like reported essays. I have read some very good memoirs, but also I really love the reporting part of it, and I find it really interesting when reporters can blend the genre by doing some reflection. They're writing in the first person and then also reporting stuff.

Any particular examples?

Right now, I'm reading The Best Minds by Jonathan Rosen, which is a memoir. And then I'm pretty much obsessed with all the work of Hanif Abdurraqib: the way he writes is different than other stuff. I am recently read While The City Slept by Eli Sanders, that's sort of true crime, and Alexander Chee's How to Write An Autobiographical Novel—so you see I'm looking at blended forms. I read Stay True, of course, that felt more memoiry to me. Master Slave Husband Wife [by Ilyon Woo] that was the one I used for my students—I really do appreciate very much a whole narrative reconstruction of history.

I usually find I have one book in each form kind of going at any time: I will usually have a piece of fiction, some print non-fiction, something on my Kindle, and something in my car. How do you read?

Oh yeah, I have audio books too. I like that I can switch forms: oftentimes I'll buy a book and I'll have it also in audio form, and I'll even read it again after listening to it. Sometimes it's even simultaneous: last night I was really tired, I had the longest teaching day and I just wanted to read, but I also wanted to not think too hard... so then I had the audio going. I don't usually do that.

It doesn't sound like there's a lot of fiction in the mix.

There's not, and I don't know why that is. I mean, I do read fiction—but I get excited about non-fiction.

Given that you're reading both personally and professionally, do you have a really deliberate practice? How hard do you have to work at making space and time to read?

I do have to work at it. For example, next quarter I'm going to be teaching a medical science narratives class, so I'm already thinking of what books to do for that. I've taught books like Oliver Sacks before, I've taught Rebecca Skloot, different non-fiction. But I don't want to just re-do them, because I want to introduce myself to new work. So I'm crafting that syllabus on books that I also want to read, things like Body Work by Melissa Febos. I'll probably read over the summer and then we can bring it in.

At Curious Reading Club we recently read Carl Elliott's new book. He was a whistleblower himself, but he then goes around and talks to other people who exposed scandals, for example, the guy who blew the whistle on Tuskegee.

Sounds relevant to the class! And it's interesting, certainly, because it's different. It's bringing a personal angle, but also talking to other folks and doing those interviews.

And you said you like reported essays, where the writer is in the story: they're telling you how they see it, and why they're interested in it and what they're wrestling with.

That was something that, to be honest, I had been really discouraged not to do early on. When you're a journalist in the beginning, you're not ever allowed to have thoughts: it's all based on everybody else, on objectivity. A lot of the books we sort of traditionally teach are from that omniscient point of view, like the Capote or Hiroshima. But that's why I've started to get so interested in these other forms. It's like, OK, there's all these different ways to approach reporting and writing about stories—and you can have a place within it, if it's connected to your own life somehow.

Do you find that voices you read get incorporated into what you write?

I think that because I was so closely studying the omniscient voice, that's what I incorporated into my previous books. But then I always did the more kind of free writing too, but never in any kind of public way. What I'm doing when I read now is just paying attention to how people write freely, when it's too self indulgent, what's the balance there. I haven't done a lot of it, so I'm trying to think about how that would happen, I'm reading to study how people write about that.

For example there's a book called The Yellow House [by Sarah M Broom] and then there's another book, Concepcion, by a journalist Albert Samahar who's at the Washington Post. Both of these take a place or history that's connected to their own family history, and the people in those worlds become these reported characters, the way we do it in journalism. I liked reading those two, and I just admire the skill that goes into those kinds of books, especially. That's what I'm trying to learn.

Thanks to Erika for chatting.

We'll be back to announce next week to announce our pick of the month for July.

Bobbie