Book Club Discussion Questions
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Please be aware that this discussion guide will contain spoilers!
- The Very Long, Very Strange Life of Isaac Dahl has an unusual structure for a novel, skipping eight years ahead in time from one chapter to the next, with each chapter detailing a day in the life of Isaac Dahl. What did you think of this non-traditional approach?
- The three main characters in the book—Isaac, his twin sister, Agnes, and their best friend, Bo—have a unique bond that lasts a lifetime. Is there a particular scene that stands out for you as a good example of the closeness of their relationship?
- Many of the chapters in this novel are based on actual historical events, such as the 1926 avalanche in Utah, or the 1982 raising of the Mary Rose in England. What historical incident do you think affected Isaac the most? When was he the most at peace with himself?
- In addition to Isaac, Agnes, and Bo, there are dozens of interesting characters in the book, some major, some minor. Do you have a favorite among this large supporting cast, and what did you like about them?
- If you were telling a friend about the plot of this book, what would you say? Is there an overarching theme, and if so, what is it? Family ties? The passage of time? Mortality? Friendship?
- In spite of their intimacy, Isaac and Agnes are always verbally sparring. Why do you think this is? Is one more to blame than the other for their often-antagonistic relationship?
- Of the twelve days from Isaac's life that he tells us about in this novel, which interested you the most? Did you prefer the days that revolved around major historical events, or the ones that were primarily about the Dahl family?
- There's a lot of sadness in this book, but also quite a bit of humor. What was the saddest part for you? How about the funniest?
- All the chapters in this novel are written in past tense, save for the very last one, which is in present tense. Why do you think the author chose to make this switch at the end?
- What are your thoughts on the title of this novel? Considering he is 96 years old in the final chapter, Isaac's life us undeniably "very long," but do you agree that it has been "very strange?" What do you think is the difference between a life that is strange or uncommon and a life that is "normal" or ordinary?
A Note from the Author
No, I wasn't stoned when I came up with the idea for this book.
Truly.
Regardless of how plausible it might sound, I was absolutely NOT sitting on my couch in sweatpants and a wine-stained hoodie, smoking a joint and shoving fried cheese balls into my mouth while mumbling things to my cat like: Hey, how about I start my next book in 1926, when the main dude is just eight years old, then jump eight years in the future for the second chapter, then just keep on jumping eight years for every chapter after that until he's old as hell, and along the way I'll toss his butt in an avalanche, a dust storm, a naval battle, a movie about Cinderella, and other random crap like that? Want a cheese ball? These freakin' things are awesome!
I only wish my creative process worked like that.
I began plotting out The Very Long, Very Strange Life of Isaac Dahl in the summer of 2014. The only reason I know this is because I found the following note scribbled in one of my notebooks:
-August 31, 2014. Historical novel.
-First person, past tense. Early childhood to old age.
-Each chapter eight years apart, starting at age 8, ending at age 96, so 1926 -2014.
-Twelve chapters, roughly twenty pages each. Each chapter a day in history.
-Different location each chapter. Recurring characters, new people in each.
-Narrator is writer/journalist/gay.
Much of this note now mystifies me. How did I decide on an eight-year gap between each chapter? And why twelve chapters with approximately twenty pages each? I must've had a good reason for such a specific format, but I can't remember it.
What I do remember is spending a lot of time Googling the years I'd chosen. Once I settled on twelve true-life events and/or settings that interested me—not an easy task, given how much fascinating stuff occurs on planet Earth at any given moment in history—I dug deeper into my choices, in chronological order, finding out as much as I could about each before working out how my characters might fit in the timeline.
Things went pretty smoothly until all the preliminaries for the book were done and it was time to start writing. I opened my laptop and was faced with a blinking cursor at the top of an empty first page, and I thought the same thing I always do when I get to this point in telling a story:
So now what? I like everything about writing except the actual writing. I'm joking, of course. I love writing. Sort of.
I love looking up weird facts on the Internet or reading amazing books about a subject that interests me. I love traveling to lovely locales I haven't seen before: This book alone took me to Provence, Tuscany, and Napa Valley. I love immersing myself in memories of places from my past: Horseneck Beach in Massachusetts, the Varsity Theater in Des Moines, and the loft apartment of dear friends in NYC all made an appearance in this novel. I love that I work at home, seldom wear shoes or set an alarm clock, and still get to pretend I'm a semiproductive member of society. I love that there are people in the world who seem to enjoy my books, and I know I'm enormously lucky to earn a living this way.
But do I love the writing itself? The paragraph above (that you just read in approximately ten seconds) took over an hour to write. If all the paragraphs in all my novels were equally time-consuming—and if I were masochistic enough to add them all up—I'd likely drown myself in the bathtub at the realization of exactly how much of my life I've spent agonizing over things like whether it sounds better to say "the bathtub" or "my bathtub."
But yes, I love writing.
Sort of.
I submitted the manuscript of
The Very Long, Very Strange Life of Isaac Dahl to my editor on January 4, 2022. That's nearly eight years after I first started writing it. Not all of that was hands-on work; the first draft spent two full years in solitary confinement—banished to a desk drawer for bad behavior—while I cleared my head by writing a less cantankerous novel. Still, six years is a significant chunk of time, and astonishes me in retrospect.
What kind of person willingly surrenders so much of his/her/their daily existence to play make-believe? Why would most authors rather do this kind of work than almost anything else? What's the motivating force behind the desire to write a book that (A) may never get published, and (B) even if it does, could very well get torn apart by the critics? Are all novelists raging egomaniacs? Or just delusional dreamers, hoping to write the next
Beloved or
Moby Dick?
I have no answers to these questions, but I'm okay with that. I figured out a long time ago that it's better for my mental health to not know why I do what I do.
I've always wanted to write a book that followed one character from childhood to old age. Once I began Isaac Dahl's story, however, he insisted on bringing his twin sister and his best friend along for the whole journey. I wasn't sure at first this was a good idea—it wasn't my original intention—but he convinced me his life wouldn't be nearly as interesting without them. He was right, of course: The odd love triangle of Isaac, Agnes, and Bo ended up being the heart of the novel. As I was writing, all three of them kept doing and saying things I didn't expect; God only knows how many times I had to change a scene to accommodate their quirks, moods, and whims. It was sometimes aggravating, but I'm so glad they got their way: They made me laugh, cry, and rethink my assumptions about the nature of family and friendship, and I enjoyed their company immensely.
The hardest part of finishing a novel is losing touch with imaginary friends like these. After spending so much time together, it's often painful to let them go, but the good thing is that there's always the next book—and the next set of playmates to fall in love with. I actually can't wait to meet the new batch.
What can I say? Fiction writers are fickle creatures.
—Bart Yates
Unless otherwise stated, this discussion guide is reprinted with the permission of A John Scognamiglio Book.
Any page references refer to a USA edition of the book, usually the trade paperback version, and may vary in other editions.
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