Welcome, friend! Today I am chatting with author Bailey Merlin about her book, A Lot of People Live in This House. This book is a contemporary fiction around COVID and grief! Let’s welcome Bailey and learn more about the book!
Get to know the author: Bailey Merlin
Hi Bailey! Welcome to Armed with A Book. Tell me and my readers a bit about yourself!
Hi there, I’m Bailey Merlin (it’s not even a pen name). I’m a writer, bi+ activist, French Revolution enthusiast, and a great maker of soups. I have an MFA in fiction from Butler University and will have my MS in Media, Medicine, and Health from Harvard Medical School as of May 24. My poetry and short stories (mostly poetry because short form fiction is impossible) has been featured in a variety of literary magazines, including The Lascaux Review, ellipses…, Bandit Fiction, Anti-Heroin Chic, Chantwood Magazine, Dime Show Review, Streetlight Magazine, and Into the Void. You can find me in Boston, living in an intentional, multi-generational community with 9 other people, a toddler, a dog, a cat, and a friendly ghost. I’ve been in a reading slump for over a year, and am desperate need of book recommendations.
What inspired you to write this book?
I lived in a communal household/intentional community when the pandemic started, and it’s the only reason I didn’t lose my mind. What else could I do but be inspired by the experience?
How long did it take you to write this book, from the first idea to the last edit?
I thought about writing about my living situation basically the day I moved into the Bond House over five years ago. The idea started to sprout when a faculty member over at Longy told me she didn’t really care about the French Revolution, which I had written a trilogy about and was obsessed with, but that she was fascinated by my living arrangement. Not long after, the pandemic hit and pushed me inside. Over the next four months, I dedicated every Monday to writing my novel. Four months after that, I’d gone through three major revisions and paid someone to edit the manuscript. In May 2022, I was able to find a publisher. Now, three years later, she’s ready for the world.
What makes your story unique?
To be honest, I’ve only read one other story about communal living, and it didn’t have what I would call a happy ending and returns everyone to a singular life, happier for the change. In this story, communally living is allowed to be complicated without villanizing it. I strongly believe that people were built to live together, whether that be in a neighbourhood community setting, joint property ownership, or cohabitation in the same house. Not a lot of people are writing about how nice it is.
Who would enjoy reading your book?
Anyone who has every experienced a deep abiding loss or heartbreak, parents of all ages, people interested in learning more about alternative living arrangements, recent graduates who feel adrift in the world, my mom, people who have lived communally, lovers of contemporary fiction, someone in need of a good cry.
What’s something you hope readers would take away from it?
Community is a verb. People feel lonely
Do you have a favourite quote or scene in the book that you find yourself going back to?
There’s a scene where the whole house participates in this Chopped competition (if you’re not familiar with the show, basically chefs compete to make the best dish from mystery ingredients). The main character Rachel is paired with the youngest, coolest house member, Wren, who is a goth kid going to school for social work. Working side-by-side, Rachel is able to let her guard down and share some things about herself. More importantly, Wren tells a wild story about their mother making a Beef Wellington and the chaos that ensues. It’s a story I took from my husband’s own experience to embellish. Honestly, it still cracks me up.
What is something you have learned on your author journey so far?
This is a less than flattering truth. That comparing your journey to someone else’s will just upset you, so stay in your lane. I’ve never been the sort of person who has had a lot of luck in their life. Everything I have has come from my own determination, and it can be frustrating to see people seemingly blow up overnight. Not getting bitter over other people’s success sometimes means muting someone’s feed, unfollowing, or stepping away from social media for a while. It’s not a pretty trait, but it’s a part of me. On the bright side, protecting my peace in this way allows me to be a better author friend.
What’s the best piece of advice you have received related to writing?
Your first draft is trash; that doesn’t mean you’re trash.
If you could give a shout out to someone(s) who has helped in your writer journey, please feel free to mention them below!
There are a lot of people who have been with me as a writer, but I need to give a shout out to my husband, Richie. His dedication to me and this project is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, and sometimes it was the only thing that kept me going. So, thank you for every cup of tea and for talking me down from every ledge. I hope that every writer can experience this level of support.
A Lot of People Live in This House
Contemporary Literary Fiction, Published 2023
A Lot of People Live in This House follows Rachel as she arrives at the house on the hill alone as Job attends a meditation retreat in India for two weeks to unpack his own grief. She’s greeted by housemates who smile, bring her cups of tea, and seem happy she’s there. She hates it. Not long after, Job is trapped in India by a virus that’s grounded just about every plane in the world. As she falls apart, her new housemates rally to find a way to get Job home. Everything Rachel thought she knew about living with others flies out the window and leaves only one remaining truth: Life can be a lot at once, but you don’t have to do it alone.
TW: grief, COVID, death, miscarriage (Trisomy 18), anxiety, pregnancy, birth
CW: This novel contains sensitive and explicit content that may be disturbing to some readers. It includes scenes of pregnancy, graphic birth, brief phone sex, off-page death, and grief. The detailed description of childbirth may not be suitable for readers who are sensitive to medical procedures and graphic depictions of blood and bodily fluids. The brief phone sex scene may contain explicit language and sexual content, which may not be appropriate for younger readers or those who may find it offensive. The portrayal of death and grief in the novel may be emotionally triggering for some readers, as it depicts the loss of loved ones and the subsequent grief and mourning process. Please be aware that this novel may not be suitable for readers who have experienced trauma or loss in their lives. Reader discretion is advised. If you feel uncomfortable reading about any of the above themes, it is recommended that you refrain from reading this novel.
Book Excerpt from
A Lot of People Live in This House
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The first morning of quarantine, breakfast has everyone downstairs around the same time. Vernon cooks pancakes at the range in his work slacks and blue button-down covered with a green Starbucks apron. Rachel rolls her coffee cup between her palms as she alternates between reading the news and Job’s email. Beside her, the stinky cat Klimt purrs in Lorelei’s lap. Behind them both, Renato and Ted hash out summer plans for a volleyball court. It is a cozy din, and Rachel cannot deny that.
Daniela sweeps into the kitchen in a pale green dressing gown. Her hair is swept up into a silk scarf. Despite the purple bags under her eyes, she is glowing, and Rachel hates her for it. “Costco is completely out of toilet paper,” she announces.
“What?” Renato’s voice is higher than usual. “Completely?”
Vernon turns towards the group, casually flipping a pancake in the pan. “I read on Twitter that there are toilet paper, Lysol, and mask shortages already.”
“What?” Francesca asks.
Renato says something in Spanish, and Rachel assumes that he has repeated Vernon’s words for her.
“No good,” she reports. “We only have a couple of rolls downstairs.”
“Well, shit,” Lorelei says.
Everyone laughs, even Rachel. In the last week, she has observed two things about the German woman: She is quiet, and she is funny.
Vernon brings a full stack of pancakes to the kitchen counter. His eyebrows are especially devilish today. “How does everyone feel about bidets?”
Rachel brings Job’s email up on her phone and reads it again, lingering on the last sentence about his coming home. She wants to tell everyone the news but is sidelined when Ted says, “What about them?”
“Markeya and I have one in our bathroom. It’s great.”
“You have a bidet?” Yukiko asks.
Vernon moves the pancakes onto the kitchen table as Ted stands up to let Daniela scoot behind the table next to her mother. “We have an attachment that goes right on the toilet. All you have to do is hook up the waterline. Takes five minutes to install. Totally removes the need for toilet paper.”
“Really?” Renato asks.
Rachel repositions herself to watch as plates and pancakes are doled out. Ted hands her two plates, one for her and one for Lorelei. “Pancakes?” he mouths. Rachel nods, and he holds out the plate for her to pick up two fluffy discs. Lorelei does the same.
Meanwhile, Yukiko sighs. “I miss bidets.”
“But how…” Renato looks over at Francesca to gauge her reaction. “How do you get your butt dry?”
“The one in my apartment back home had its own heater,” Yukiko says as she splashes a giant dollop of syrup over her pancakes.
“Markeya and I have one with a dryer, too,” Vernon says, taking a seat at the kitchen island. He quickly thanks Renato for the plate of pancakes. “But people I know keep little washcloths in a basket on the back of their toilet. You use one to dry off, drop it in the hamper, and launder once a week.”
“No toilet paper,” Renato says, mystified.
“And you like yours?” Ted asks Vernon, incredulity littering his face.
“It’s great,” Vernon states with the syrup container dangling from his long fingers with their stubby nails.
Ted turns the question to the table, “How does everyone else feel about getting bidets?”
“Yes,” Yukiko says at once.
“It would remove the need for toilet paper…” Daniela muses. “I like bidets; I think they’re great. How much are they?”
Vernon takes out his phone and starts to scroll through Amazon. “The one we bought was expensive because of all the features. Let’s see how much a regular one costs…”
“How much is expensive?” Ted asks.
“Over three hundred.”
Ted whistles low.
“A regular one will cost about thirty. Yeah, here’s the one.” Vernon offers his phone to Renato and lets everyone at the table look. Yukiko is already shaking her head. “It’s a bit of an investment because we’d need what, five or six?”
Francesca takes the phone and says, “Woooow. So sophisticated.”
“Easy to install?” Daniela asks as she scrolls through features and product comparisons.
“Absolutely. I’d be happy to install them myself,” Vernon says.
Rachel is finally given the butter and syrup. She continues listening as the bidet debate continues. “Is it hygienic to share one?” Ted asks.
“The spray part is always covered, so yes,” Vernon replies.
“Well, I’m for them. More eco-friendly,” Daniela determines.
“And we won’t have to worry about toilet paper shortages,” Renato says. Rachel is amused by his fascination. She herself is interested in using a bidet again and knows that Job will be delighted. After six months of almost exclusive bidet usage, it felt gross to go back to the rough scrape of toilet paper.
“What do you all think? Do you want bidets?” Ted asks Rachel and Lorelei.
“Did he finally get y’all with his bidet propaganda?” Markeya’s voice asks, shocking Rachel into straightening. Behind her, she finds Markeya clutching a terry cloth robe closed tight. Her blue curls have disappeared under a colorful silk bonnet. She looks tired. The dark purple bags under her eyes are not as glamorous as Daniela’s.
“We’re deciding about it,” Ted says.
Vernon is up on his feet, grabbing a mug out of the cabinet and pouring in the last bit of hot coffee from the pot. He hands it to her, and she thanks him quietly. “I think it’s a good idea,” she says.
Rachel’s shoulders fall a little at being talked over. But Ted does not forget her or Lorelei. “What do you think?” he asks again.
“I want one,” Lorelei says, moving Klimt from her lap and onto the floor. He gives a single grunt of displeasure before racing to his metal food bowl and begins to chew loudly.
“I’d be okay with it,” Rachel agrees.
“Settled, then,” Ted says and takes out his own cell phone, quickly going to Amazon and dropping a half dozen bidet attachments into his cart. “Some washcloths and baskets, too?”
“Baskets, yes. Washcloths, no. We have all of those Ikea ones in the basement,” Daniel tells him, leaning into his shoulder to watch what he does. Rachel envies their intimacy. “Will Wren be okay with this?”
“If she—they,” he corrects himself. “If they aren’t okay with it, they can use the toilet paper we do have, and we will try to get more.”
“What about Anabelle?” Rachel finds herself asking, surprised by the consideration.
“Anabelle has been preaching the bidet gospel for about as long as I have,” Vernon says as he finished up the last pancake bite on his plate. “It was easier for me to make the switch because all I had to do was convince Markeya.”
“And I admit when I’m wrong.” Markeya takes the remains of the pancake plate for herself. “The damn thing changed my life.”
Renato laughs, resting both hands on his stomach. “I’m so excited.”
“I’m not sure anyone has ever said that about a bidet before,” Vernon says through a chuckle, wiping a tiny tear from the corner of his eye.
Outside the window, Rachel’s eyes follow a fast-moving hooded and scarved figure as it makes its way up the driveway and up the backstairs. The door opens, and someone stomps their feet in the mudroom.
Francesca checks her watch. “Anabelle,” she says to herself.
A half-second later, the red-haired woman barrels into the room. Anabelle looks thinner than the day Rachel met her, definitely more exhausted. When she sees everyone watching her at the door, she beams, but the expression seems off. There is a hint of pain in her eyes. Rachel pays close attention. “Hi,” she says.
“Hello. How was your shift?” Vernon asks. “Can I get you something to eat?”
“All the food, please,” she replies cheerfully, then catches herself. “I need to go change, though. I’m gross.” Her small face becomes pinched. “And I should probably eat in my room.”
“Why?” Francesca asks. The lines between her eyebrows become ever deeper.
“Because I could make you all sick,” she replies simply. Sadly.
Rachel observes Markeya and Anabelle exchange a meaningful look of some kind. She realizes she is not the only one to notice. Ted squirms.
Then, Markeya says, “Anabelle and I talked about it. We think it’s best if we move out.”
There is clamoring. Panic ripples through the table and plays against Rachel. Though she has only just arrived, she would prefer that things not change further. This is selfish of her, and she knows it.
“Move out?” Ted cries. His cheeks are red. “You can’t move out. We are at the beginning of a pandemic. You need to be here!”
“We can’t, Ted,” Anabelle says as she leans back into the mudroom door.
Ever the optimist, he scrambles for words: “What if we converted the library into a makeshift bedroom?”
Markeya sighs heavily. She leans her elbows onto the copper-topped island and cradles her head. “Look, it’s only a matter of time before we start working directly with infected patients.”
Anabelle picks up the torch as she gestures to the kitchen table. “We can’t stay in the house and put everyone at risk, least of all Francesca and Daniela. We don’t know how long this will last, and we need to have access to a kitchen and bathroom.”
The room is silent. Rachel watches Ted’s face carefully. She can almost hear the thoughts springing back and forth in his skull. He catches her watching, and her gaze falls away. “What about the garage?” Ted asks.
Two or three people snort at the notion. “Huh?” Markeya says, lifting her head out of her hands to shake it. “That whole thing is a gut.”
Some light has clicked on over Ted’s head. His voice is no longer dejected; it’s energized. “No, no, listen to me. It’s got the foundation for a good little house. That’s what it used to be. The upstairs is a totally open space, more than big enough for two beds. Two bathrooms and the makings of a functional kitchenette. We could flip that thing, easy. You could move out there but not away. Problem solved.”
Anabelle sinks a little lower down the door, her legs sprawled out in front of her. “It’s a good idea, but we don’t have a month to have it fixed up. We should probably be isolating now.”
Ted is not dissuaded. “What if it was done this weekend?”
Markeya turns her chair around so she can cross her arms and stare Ted down. “There’s no way that’s possible.”
Rachel’s head bounces between Ted and Markeya as they begin to lob rebuttals back and forth like master tennis players.
Ted: “Why not?”
Markeya: “Because that sort of thing takes weeks to get settled.”
Ted: “What if it only took the weekend?”
Markeya: “Ted, man, I’m telling you that it’s not possible.”
Ted: “Why not?”
Markeya: “It’s just…it’s just not.”
Ted taps the top of the table with his fingertips, using them almost like a gavel. “Listen, if the Amish can raise a barn in a day, we can outfit a carriage house in a weekend.”
At this, Markeya raises her hands in exasperation, stands up, and goes to pour herself a cup of coffee out of the newly-brewing pot.
Vernon steps in on his partner’s behalf: “We don’t exactly have Amish know-how.”
“What’s Amish?” Francesca asks.
Rachel finds herself providing a quick answer: “People who choose to live without electricity or modern conveniences. They build and make all of their things.”
“Plenty of people have to do that in Venezuela,” the older woman murmurs to herself. “It isn’t so special.”
Ted and the rest are not paying attention to this portion of the conversation, though. “If we get this thing done this weekend, would you guys stay?”
Anabelle and Markeya make some more eye contact. “I guess it would solve the problem,” Anabelle says at last.
Markeya rolls her eyes as if to say, “I can’t believe you’re on his side.” Then she shrugs.
“Great.” Ted claps his hands once with delight. “I’ll call the contractor and get him over here today. Rachel,” he reaches for the back of her chair, “will you ask Job for his opinion on how we should approach this project? We would all benefit from his knowledge, I’m sure.”
“Uh, okay.” Rachel flushes in pleasure and panic. She is not sure if throwing Job’s hat into the ring will cause some unknown friction down the line. Ultimately, she does not want to deny the chance to entice Job back to her faster. “Yeah, okay, I’ll email him.”
So, over breakfast, on the first day of their self-imposed lockdown, the house decides to fix the carriage house, and Rachel misses Job more than she ever has in her life. At about the same time, Wren enters the room and says, “Hey, what’d I miss?”
Interested?
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