By Josh Greenfield
Genre: Fiction
“Continue Breathing: A Novel” follows the adventures and misadventures of its protagonist, Jordan Fineman, as he seeks to fight his way out of the depths of an emotional breakdown. Jordan is diagnosed as both a manic-depressive, during the days when that term was still in use, and a severe obsessive-compulsive. Before he can find his place in the world as a writer, before he can know a relative amount of peace, he must go through his trials; two hospitalizations for mental illness, a psychotic episode, more than twenty-five years of psychotherapy and swimming pools full of psychiatric medications. In the end, it is a story of perseverance and victory, and of striving to live in the present day, made possible by one particularly skilled psychiatrist and his able successor. If Jordan begins his journey with one particular gift, it is his sense of humor. He is able to laugh at himself. This, in the end, is what brings him home.
Interview with the Author
What do you find most challenging about the writing process, and how do you deal with it?
When and where do you do your writing?
I think it would be best if I attempted to answer both of the first two questions at once. For me, the writing is very much an extension of the way I try and live my whole life, that is, one day at a time. I try to hold to the idea that only today real, only today is guaranteed. I might make notes on a calendar about a future date. But this one is the one that counts
Similarly, I only look toward writing one morning at a time. Even at that, it is fair to say I have a distinctive way of going at it. I wake up early, before six AM, and without turning on any kind of radio or computer or phone, proceed through a carefully choreographed routine of meditative reading and breakfast preparation. I believe this creates a form of hypnosis, so that when I do sit down in front of the desktop computer, I have access to a state mind that would not be available at some other point in the day. This is when I do my best writing. I see it as a gift, just for that one day. If it comes, I am thankful. I try not to look ahead.
What have you learned about promoting your books?
I have learned that there are an awful lot of other people attempting to do the same thing. For me the most useful approach is to remind myself that each and every marketing attempt can be taken as an opportunity to spread the theme of the book itself; namely that mental illness in a natural part of the human condition and not to be feared, to help break down some of the stigma. In this way, none of it is wasted effort.
What are you most proud of as a writer?
I am proud of lending a voice to characters whose life experience has included serious mental illness. This is a voice that needs to be heard.
If you could have dinner with any writer, living or dead, who would it be and what would you talk about?
I think I would have to choose James Thurber. I would appreciate interacting with the man who created the immortal Walter Middy. I think James Thurber must have possessed some of that same soft-spoken humor. I would like to learn how The Secret Life of Walter Middy evolved and came to fruition.
About the Author
Josh Greenfield is a graduate of both Phillips Andover Academy and Cornell University's College of Arts and Sciences. He holds two master’s degrees from the City University of New York, one in history and one in English literature. He also completed the better part of a doctorate in English at Fordham University. In his writing he attempt to address the recovery from mental illness with humor and honesty.
His work has been featured in The Cornell Daily Sun, The Riverdale Press, Appalachia, Word Catalyst Magazine, Better than Starbucks, Chaleur Magazine, The B’K Magazine, Prometheus Dreaming and Adelaide Literary Magazine. His story “And the Doors of the Ambulance Closed,” was nominated for a Best of the Net 2019 award. His novel “Continue Breathing,” was published by Adelaide Books in 2020.
Website: www.JoshGreenfield.us
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/joshgreenfieldwriter
EXCERPT:
The only way to look back at all this is with something resembling
a smile. The breakdown happened when I was twenty-one years old. It was June of
what should have been the end of my senior year. I’d finished three and spent
one screwing around. I had a part-time job in a vegetarian restaurant. I was a
waiter, though on some days I helped in the kitchen. It was communal in that
way. I was staffing the dining room one Sunday morning, but there wasn’t a
whole lot to do. The spinach had been washed, and the fruit juice bottles
carefully arranged, all by people more functional than myself. The wooden
interior was inviting, with the morning sun flooding in through the large
picture window. In the kitchen, the corn was quietly sautéing in garlic sauce,
and the brown rice was nicely puffed. All we needed were some customers.
A man and a woman entered to the sound of the
tinkling bell above the door, not that we would have overlooked them in the
rush. They took a seat at a table for two against the wall. The woman wore a
long maroon skirt, and the man had his hair pulled loosely back in a ponytail.
Ready to serve, I approached the table and offered the couple menus. I looked
at them. The woman smiled, the man nodded. They consulted the bill of fare in
silence.
I stepped back behind the wait station and
began to contemplate the water glasses. Five filled, two empty glasses on the
end.
I could fill them, or
not…
If I fill them I’ll have
to refill the pitcher, which means walking into the kitchen.
If I don’t fill them I’m
going to run out of water glasses. Unless I fill them later…
It might get busy and I
won’t have time. I could fill the glasses but let the water level in the
pitcher drop. How much would it drop? If I got a smaller pitcher, it wouldn’t
drop as much. At least it wouldn’t look like it had dropped as much.
No one is going to look
at the pitcher.
I could take the empty
glasses off the end of the shelf. Then at least I wouldn’t have to think about
them. I could also put them under the counter.
There, now all the water
glasses are filled. But three don’t have any ice. The empty glasses under the
counter don’t have any ice either. They don’t even have any water.
What will people think
when they see empty glasses under the counter? Nobody puts empty glasses under
the counter.
Better put them back on
the shelf...
There.
The couple had been ready for ten minutes. I
walked over to take their order.
“I’ll have the soup and salad. With
cornbread, right?” the woman asked.
I looked at her but did not fully comprehend
the question. I nodded. I made some effort to write down her request. The
writing was not coherent. These people had water. But the man had no ice, or
very little. They needed ice.
“The choices?” she asked again, smiling a
little more forcefully.
I tried to focus. “There’s blue cheese.
There’s also Russian and… a French. ”She ordered the French. I got something
down on paper about the man’s order and retreated to the wait station. The ice
glasses were still there. I counted them again: five filled, two empty. Of the
five filled, three didn’t have any ice.
It’s getting warm
outside. It’s going to get hot.
No ice. The ice is in
the kitchen. I could fill the pitcher and get the ice at the same time. What
would Corey think? Doesn’t everyone fill the glasses with water and ice before
the meal, during set up? There are two glasses filled with ice. That’s enough
for one more table of two. What if it’s a table for four? Two would get water
with ice and two would get water without ice. Maybe they wouldn’t notice…Better
get the ice now.
This process proceeds indefinitely, or until
interrupted. Some prisons have no walls.
The order slip with the pencil scratch marks
on it was crumpled and placed in the front left pocket of my denim apron. It
remained there. The couple was quietly looking at one another across the table
for two. The kitchen staff were leaning against the stove perusing the Sunday
paper. Nothing was happening. Forty-five minutes went by in this condition of
suspended animation.
Thanks, so much Emily. This all looks just great!
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