Growing Like Weeds

The many book reviews of The Ten Year Affair by Erin Somers all point to the same remarkable achievement: Somers’ ability to build two parallel realities—one in which a Xennial mom of two embarks on an affair, and another in which she does not. In one realm, her life takes on a velvety sheen as she’s pulled toward a dad from the local parent group. In the other, her “real” life, her husband Eliot is an accomplished nonfiction publisher, fulfilled by his work while she navigates the suspended time of maternity leave.

The two couples befriend each other—the protagonist, Eliot, the parent-group dad, and his wife—and suddenly the fantasy becomes something larger, something enveloping. Then confusing. The reader begins to question which realm is real, and which one the protagonist truly desires.

I won’t try to analogize my desire to be an author with a fictionalized affair. But great writing is timeless, and Somers’ mastery of suspended reality arrived at the exact moment I needed the reminder that we all coexist in two planes: the reality we live and the one we imagine into being. What we want and what we accept are often so seamlessly intertwined it takes a moment—sometimes several—to tell whether they are meaningfully different.

I didn’t grow up wanting to be a science and nature writer. I wanted to be a million things, to earn a living a million ways, and then, desperately, to be something meaningful to someone. We all deserve a break sometimes. If you’re looking for a new book—perhaps one a little outside your comfort zone—pick this up, and consider what separates you from yesterday.