This wasn’t the update I meant to post today about revising and my next book. But in light of the deadly storms over the weekend, and the storms that will keep coming in the mess men have made of the world, I thought I should post this advice instead.
For a little over a year, I lived in San Francisco. I would have—should have—been there longer, but I was made to leave by what I thought was love, which is a long story for a different time. I loved my time there, but my parents worried about earthquakes, as parents do. Always keep your car full of gas and have cash, they cautioned. That was hard for a person in her early twenties. Keep extra canned food. That I stored under my bed, having no other spot, which probably meant my roommate thought I was even weirder than I am.
Both my parents grew up in rural Indiana, and I lived for most of my adult life in remote Appalachia, including off the steepest paved road in the state. On icy days, the fire department would simply close our road. I parked at the foot or at the top and hiked home with my young child in my arms. Our power would go out, maybe three or four times a year, and the water much more often.
All those experiences change a person. I’m now someone who tries to prepare, probably too much sometimes, which can lead to hypervigilance. In our climate changed world though, we do need to be ready.
The Attic
In the wake of the Texas floods, I read some advice to keep an ax in your attic, in case you need to chop yourself out of the roof in an emergency. This might seem extreme, especially if you don’t live in a flood plain.
But flood plains are changing, and axes don’t cost much. Though my current address is low based on climate change risk data, decades ago the apartments nearby flooded and two lives were lost. Pick an ax up at the hardware store, stick it in your attic and forget about it. My son also suggested adding life jackets up there, though I know this is more of an expense.
Backpacks
I have go-bags for myself and my son: a backpack we can each carry with emergency supplies, first aid, and a copy of important papers in a sealed plastic bag. This emergency supply list from NPR is really good, though I would add N95 masks and a water purification straw or water purification tablets. I would also add a change of comfortable clothes, depending on the season, and cash. I keep the bags on our basement stair landing, next to the life jackets and jugs of emergency water, and close to the door.
Pets
The NPR list also doesn’t mention pets. You’re obviously going to want a few days of food for your animals in your go-bags along with treats to help calm them. I read great advice after the LA fires for dealing with cats in an emergency: have a pillowcase with your go-bags. You may not have time to wrangle a cat into its dreaded carrier, especially when you’re both panicking. If that’s the case, throw your cat into a pillowcase and get out. They’ll thank you later.
The world is only getting harder, both in terms of preserving our work and valuing it.
Writing and Art
This is a hard one for those of us who create: how to save our life’s work. The world is only getting harder, both in terms of preserving our work and valuing it. I don’t use Google Docs but I do email copies of my work to myself. I know AI is stealing it; AI has already stolen most of my work (remember that when you use a chatbot for an “innocent” search: it isn’t innocent for the Earth, for poor communities, or for artists and writers; it is actively harming us). But at least I have it in my email.
Portable hard drives and flash drives might also be a good idea to back work up and store it in your go-bags. A photographer friend of mine would say it isn’t real unless it’s a hard copy. That’s difficult for bulky manuscripts and visual art alike, but try to give yourself some extra copies in at least one medium of work in-progress.
The Car
Likely influenced by my parents, I always keep a first aid kit, energy bars, water, and blankets in the car, and usually an extra pair of hiking boots. I also have an emergency car kit I rotate, based on the season. For the winter, it has spikes for our boots (see: having to hike up the steepest paved road in the state), hats, gloves, and handwarmers. For the summer: insect repellant, sunscreen, poison ivy wipes. And swimsuits and flipflops; I also like to be prepared for the possible good times. I hope they are coming.
This! I hate that you had to write this, but applaud you for sharing these invaluable tips. I, too, am an over planner. Always have been -- at least since living in Los Angeles for 2 decades and having my kids there. Suddenly I found myself stuffing a shiny new (unused!) oversized trash bin with spare diapers, prescriptions, dog food, water, et al for "The Big One" which thankfully never came. That preparation training came in super handy when years later I was staring down a Category 5+ hurricane on an island and couldn't escape a direct hit. (Cue the inciting incident for my WIP memoir) This kind of info sharing is critical these days, and may save a life, so thank you.