A review of Lori Jakiela’s They Write Your Name on a Grain of Rice / by Dan J. Kirk
Every once in a while, we come across a writer who has said something in a way that no one has ever said it before, the way we wish we could write it ourselves. Lori Jakiela is one of those writers.
Page 53: “He didn’t want the hospital bed she’d ordered and all the ghosts that came with it.”
Page 98: "When faced with mortality, the questions are always why and how and when, as if figuring out the answers makes any difference."
Page 147: “ ‘Help me,’ the little girl says, and her voice pops like bubble wrap.”
These are just a few treasures, small grains of rice in the larger literary world, to be found in Jakiela’s new book, They Write Your Name on a Grain of Rice, to be released on Halloween by Atticus Books. But like the many allusions to our greatest writers that Lori shares (think Fitzgerald and Dickinson and Vonnegut), her ability to say just the right thing at just the right moment is as good as anyone writing creative nonfiction today.
The book is a sporadic walk through thought process in the manner of living a busy, cluttered life but being able to notice both the simple and the profound while taking notes along the way. Short passages soften the blow of harsh moments while longer sections set up great jokes with punchlines that might offend but probably shouldn't. It is, after all, an observation of “Life” while life itself is being threatened and fought for.
The format is not new to Jakiela, who perfected a precisely planned pattern of non-patterns in her 2015 ode to being adopted, Belief is its Own Kind of Truth, Maybe, and that she dances through in her new 2023 reflection / observation / biography. If observational remembrance were a genre, Lori Jakiela would be its godmother. It’s a damn fine piece of writing.
Whether a genius organizer or a stalwart notetaker who converts outlines into prose, she tells a tale bravely - as if each thought has its own space. It’s like a large notebook filled with surprises to be revealed or setbacks that life forces upon us all too often.
A poignant commentary of community support for cancer victims on page 154.
A powerful admission of father-daughter legacy on page 127.
And then there is timing - just wait until you hit page 75…
All those notes that seem like post-its from a career and a life spent paying attention, are charted into a warm, truthful confession that rests between a heartbreaking memoir and a “What-the-F-does life even mean?” contemplation.
Spoiler alerts being the current rage of avoidance, it cannot be shared exactly what all comes together in one taut moment on page 123, but it highlights the raveling genius of Lori Jakiela's storytelling - when several pieces intertwine to make sense, the way you pick up toys while tidying up a child's playroom only to reflect on the precious collection and simultaneously await similar chaos the next day.
Is there perhaps a flaw in this book? Sure, but like each private life, a reader will have to decide for themselves whether those are just mishaps or life lessons.
In the final summation, there is honesty in the writing of Lori Jakiela - brutal, live-affirming honesty. She writes honestly about her husband and their love; about her parents and their tough love; about her birth mother who abandoned her because she could not love; and about her children whom she adores beyond love into the realm of worship-love that every parent ought to recognize.
At its core, upon the very simple strand of each germ of rice, is the realization that They Write Your Name on a Grain of Rice is a book about confronting cancer, about thinking about life, and about accepting what comes next. And it is also a book that reminds us why existing through hardships is worth the joy found in living.
But don’t forget that Miss Jakiela can be damn funny, too. Just wait for page 167!
