For renowned author Amy Tan, writing fiction has historically been a refuge, a space where she can step away from her life and let her imagination run wild. But in the months leading up to the 2016 presidential election, the bestselling author of books such as The Joy Luck Club and The Bonesetter’s Daughter found that fiction offered little relief from a divisive campaign that inspired “a great deal of overt racism, of the kind I had not really seen before,” Tan says. “It was as if people had now received permission to say what they thought. And it was so ugly.”
So, at the age of 64, Tan put down her pen and picked up a pencil and sketchpad, enrolling in a nature journaling course with a focus on drawing to try to get some perspective and clear her mind.
What Tan thought would be a “momentary diversion” soon morphed into something much greater: Rather than being consumed by the 24/7 news cycle, Tan found her attention held captive by her new hobby.
“I thought it would be something I would do occasionally. But being in nature, especially among birds, has become a major part of my life. It’s an obsession,” Tan confesses during a video call from her Sausalito, California, home, which features floor-to-ceiling windows. “I discovered that beauty—enormous magical beauty—is an antidote to hideous emotions from others.”
Because Tan does not drive, she decided to turn her own backyard into one that would attract birds by hanging feeders, providing fresh water and researching the best food (even storing live mealworms in her fridge). In 2017, she began drawing and writing about her wildlife visitors in private journal entries that she jokingly referred to as “The Backyard Bird Chronicles.” In these pages, Tan shared colorful musings on the rich avian activity and social dynamics she witnessed, each entry accompanied by lovingly rendered drawings.
“When you have a beginner’s mind, you’re open to everything. You’re open to asking questions.”
This was a project Tan undertook solely for herself, with no thought of sharing it with the public. However, when she showed some sketches to her long-standing editor, Daniel Halpern, he had other ideas. Despite her protestations that The Backyard Bird Chronicles was a mess, Halpern was adamant that it should be published, telling Tan that what she had created was “authentic.”
“I love that word because it’s something that applies to everything in life,” Tan admits. “And that is what the mess of my nature journal is: It’s absolutely authentic. It’s spontaneous. It’s not one of these things I’ve revised a hundred times as I do with my fiction.”
For a self-professed perfectionist, the thought of putting out something so candid and unpolished might have once been unthinkable. But Tan shares that her experience watching birds has taught her things more valuable than simply being able to distinguish an American tree sparrow from a juvenile white-crowned sparrow.
“As I get older, I’m very much more aware of the importance of experiencing as much as I can,” Tan explains. One of her primary takeaways from writing the book is to “remain the beginner,” she continues. “When you have a beginner’s mind, you’re open to everything. You’re open to asking questions. . . . So I can be like a child. . . . I can not feel like my ego is at stake, or like I’m considered an expert in this area. I’m not.
“That’s part of being in nature for everybody. Being in nature is about discovery. . . . You’re in a space that’s oftentimes not the space that you’re used to: You’re used to being indoors on a sofa watching a television. So you’re outside and you’re bound to see something new. You’re set up to discover.”
“There could be one bird the whole day, and I’d be happy.”
Tan may have been initially unsure of how The Backyard Bird Chronicles would be received, but her and Halpern’s gamble has paid off: The book is a number one New York Times bestseller and has topped the independent bookseller charts as well. When asked about the enthusiastic response to the book, Tan can’t conceal her grin. While she admits that she doesn’t normally have intentions for the response to her books and “writes them for [her] own reasons,” this book is different: “When I hear people saying that . . . they’re now looking at birds, and they’re so fascinated by birds, and it’s brought them joy? I’m thinking, ‘We’re going to be united in our talking about issues having to do with saving the birds!’ ”
Tan now serves on the board of American Bird Conservancy, but her aspirations for the book extend beyond expanding environmental awareness and preservation. Although she continues to experience racism directed at herself and people she loves, she hopes increasing appreciation for birds can help to cultivate a more compassionate and tolerant society.
“There are a little over 10,000 species [of birds] in the world—and they’re so amazing, they’re so different, so many of them are unusual in their shapes and plumage,” Tan gushes, the strap of the binoculars she wears as part of her daily uniform jerking in her enthusiasm. “And I love that people appreciate the differences. . . . There are people who are intolerant, and they only want to see the same thing. . . . What a desolate world [that] would be!”
Although Tan has no plans to stop chronicling her backyard birds any time soon, she admits that Halpern is eager for a new novel, and she’s finally back at work on the book that was derailed in 2016. She allows that writing fiction requires a focus that looking at birds does not, so to be heading into another election year is unfortunate timing. But eight years later, Tan knows exactly what to do to handle the stress: “There’s no pressure in the backyard,” she says, her eyes softening as her lips curl into a tender smile. “There could be one bird the whole day, and I’d be happy.”
Author photo of Amy Tan by Enmei Tan.
