Some links

I am a member of the National Writers' Union (which I highly recommend my fellow writers look into--they have really intelligent members who answer questions on various listserves, they run workshops and events, and they have a contract department that will help you read through a contract to make sure your rights are being looked after). Through the NWU, I learned about some neat web sites that I thought I'd share:

http://www.book-proposal.com/ Has info about writing book proposals

http://www.zokutou.co.uk/forum/profile.php?mode=register An online writing group based in the UK that has some neat exercises on their site

http://writersisland.wordpress.com/ A site similar to Sunday Scribblings

Breaking the silence

Hello! It's been a while! I think this is the longest I've gone without blogging, and I have a few things to thank/blame:

1- The silent retreat is still having its affects. I'm finding the need for more silence, less communication.

2- I've been really busy! I started my graduate assistantship, where I'll be editing the Lesley MFA program's alumni newsletter and sending out announcements about publishing opportunities and events to current students and alumni. And I taught my first class as part of my teachingassistantship! It went well: the kids seemed fairly engaged for 8 a.m., the professor was happy with my performance , and I wasn't even that nervous. And of course there's the regular MFA writing/reading, the revising I'm doing for my other masters, and my job. Phew.

3- I've taken this to heart:


I especially love the line about blogging not being a competition, and how when you're dead, no one will take notice of the number of posts you've done or the number of comments you've received. Amen to that.

Retreat report, backwards schedule

The retreat was wonderful! I was really worried about being silent for a whole weekend (and silence included not reading, writing, knitting or basically anything other than walking, sitting, eating, and doing bathroom stuff).

But it was easy! And pleasant. It's amazing how much I/we talk and think above and beyond what's necessary. I can't tell you how many times I had the same thought, about the same mundane things like, I'd like to find a low-calorie recipe for chocolate chip cookies...

And eating mindfully is wonderful! Food is so much more satisfying when you're actually paying attention to it instead of concentrating on what you're going to say next, etc.

Now it's back to reality, but hopefully a more mindful one. I even got up 10 minutes early for a brief meditation this morning. And that's saying a lot since I had to leave the house at 6:45.

One part of being back to reality is getting back on track with my MFA work. Here's my newest backwards schedule:

October 8: Submission due. Write letter to Tony, mail packet.

Oct 1-7: Add in new sections/revisions to the electronic version of the story.
Write about the new Lorrie Moore stories in essay form.

September 24-30: Journal/free write about the areas I marked up in previous week.
Read second Lorrie Moore story, take detailed notes.

September 17-24: Read over story I'm revising, mark up hard copy as to major things to change/explore/expand. Close read one Lorrie Moore story, take detailed notes.

This month is going to be a little tight timewise... I think I gave myself too much of a break by not working last week or this weekend. Oh well. Pedal to the metal now!

The sound of silence

I am going away on a meditation retreat this weekend in Western Mass. So this blog will be silent for a few days, as will I--there's no talking at the retreat! I hope I don't go crazy from the sound of silence. Something tells me I won't, and that I might just appreciate it a lot more than the sound of talking. Have a good weekend!

Package 2: sent

I sent my second MFA submission yesterday, which means that I'm officially half way through my third semester. Gulp! (The feelings that go along with being close-ish to done with my MFA program deserve another post.) I feel pretty good about what I sent, in as far as I ever feel good about sending someone my SFDs (Shitty First Drafts).

I experimented with the omniscient point of view in both a long short story (20ish pages) and a short short story (3 pages). I'm proud of myself for stepping into this unknown and scary territory. After all, the omniscient POV means you (the author) have to make many more decisions than you would if the story were told from one person's point of view. Which characters' heads do we get into in the story as a whole? What about in each particular scene? What would you gain from hearing the thoughts of each character? What would you lose? Is it OK to be in a character's head in one scene, but then not another? (If anyone would like to comment on this issue/these questions, please do!)

I usually try to take some time off between submissions, but unfortunately this week will be devoted to more work, though not for my MFA. I will:

* Revise The Rest of June, a story I'm submitting for my Harvard MLA thesis.
* Revise the prologue for the medical memoir I worked on for my IS last semester.
* I also want to try to take some photos, especially of my garden and knitting projects and post them.

Back to school

I started my teaching assistantship yesterday, and it did not get off to a very auspicious start... I was so nervous about it on Sunday night that I couldn't sleep. This set me up to sleep right through my alarm and not wake up until 7:30--only half an hour before my class started, the class which takes me about an hour to get to. I got ready in about 5 minutes and quickly got a cab.

The cabbie was very into getting me to Porter Square on time, though he kept saying, "I make no promises!" He zigged and zagged through traffic, driving down back alleys and small side streets. Even with this herculean effort, I arrived 10 minutes late. Sigh... My professor was very nice about it, and the class was very interested. Best of all, the students participated! At 8 am in a freshman comp class!

I forgot how energizing it can be to be in a classroom, watching people learn and learning from others. I need to remember that energy now, when I'm feeling slightly hungover from yesterday's rushing/excitement/working late to make up for the time I was TA'ing/etc.

Fall: how I love and hate thee

Ever since Brian and I started dating (9 years ago tomorrow!), I've loved the fall. The crispness in the air, apples, dusting off my sweaters--all reminded me of that wonderful period when you're going gaga over someone.

But since last year, the first feeling of coolness sends me into a panic. I feel claustrophic with the idea of being stuck inside all winter, dreading getting out of bed to feel the icy air on my toes, wearing layers upon layers everywhere. These thoughts bum me out so much that then I spiral into dwelling on all the things I'm not in love with about my life. Just don't think about them, you say? Yea, try not thinking about food the next time you're starving. Even if you manage to get your thoughts on something else for a moment, you still feel hungry, and that hunger colors your attitude.

I don't think there's any way around this experience, at least not this year. So instead of fighting it I'm just going to try to make the most of the days when I'm feeling awful, and try to shorten their stay by doing more of the things I love: knitting, yoga, walking/running with Chloe. And as little as possible of the "have to's" like freelance projects and even some of my school work. I'll trade a less-than-awesome September submission for some piece of mind. I'm also planning some fun events like a foliage day cruise. Wish me luck!

Tune in!

A friend's radio documentary is airing on a program called Outfront on Canada's Radio One tonight at 8:43 p.m. (EST). You can hear it podcast if you go to http://www.cbc.ca/outfront/ and click on "Listen to CBC Radio" and then make sure you go to Radio One, and chose London as your location.

I couldn't be more proud of this fabulous writer/documentarian! Check it out!

Here's the introduction from the Outfront web site.
According to Form
by Tracy Isaacs
It is a simple form, and not unusual these days. Tracy Isaacs teaches at a university. It sent its employees a survey to find out how diverse its workforce is. The questionnaire asks her to classify herself racially. For Tracy Isaacs, born under the neither white nor black classification of "coloured" in apartheid South Africa, this opens up a flood of questions about how she thinks of herself.

Weekend follow up

Thanks to the so many of you who posted such heartfelt comments to my last post. I come back home with good news: I was able to live up to my intention! Not once did I wish or try to make B act differently than he was. And the result, of course, was that he seemed to feel more comfortable and therefore act less withdrawn. We didn't get into a single argument the whole time, either. (Not that we fight much in general, but stressful situations often lead to fights between most people, I think.)And another result was that I was better able to be myself and relax since I didn't have to worry about "managing" the situation.

But like any change, this one--coupled with a few other unrelated family changes that we evident this weekend-- did left me with a weird feeling a bit strange. I'm going to do some freewriting in my paper journal and hopefully get to the bottom of some of that. Thanks again! I really think it was putting my intention on paper that helped me stay conscious of fulfilling it.

Sunday Scribblings: The End

I'm spending this end-of-the-summer weekend visiting my parents' new house in New Jersey. I'm hoping this weekend will mark the end of some bad dynamics that have arisen in the past few years.

You see, my mom and husband have a bit of a checkered past. It's a long-ish story, but it boils down to a day a few Christmas's ago that I spent hysterically crying after my mom criticized a ton of stuff about my then fiancé—first to me, and then to him. She and my dad left, and we didn’t speak for a few days (which isn’t that long, but felt it. Time slows down when you know you’re ignoring/avoiding someone).

She has since apologized profusely, but once words are out there, you can’t take them back. So when B displays any of the tendencies she attacked him for (being too aloof, not wanting to spend every waking hour chatting with her, etc.), I get uncomfortable. I spend the whole time wondering if she’s judging him. And for some odd psychological (I’m sure!) reason, I tend to take all this discomfort out on B, wishing that he could act however it is she wants him to act.

So this weekend, I am setting an intention to not play into this dynamic any longer. I will just concern myself with my own feelings, and with making sure I am relaxing and doing what I want to do—not worrying about what someone else may or may not be thinking. And I definitely won’t get mad at B, no matter how he decides to act/spend his time.

Here’s to the (hopefully) end of all that! For more endings, click here.

Walking in circles

B told me about a very funny interview he heard on NPR today. It's with writer Merrill Markoe, who has a new book out called Walking in Circles Before Lying Down. As you may have guessed, it's about dogs. If you love animals, or just need a laugh, listen to the author discussing her book with Robin Young on Here and Now.

On a totally unrelated note, I thought I'd announce to the blogosphere my new fitness goal: to run or do yoga every day of the week (with maybe one day off). Try to keep me honest--ask me how it's going in a few weeks!

blogger annoyances

I've been trying to get this picture to be my bio pic for days now. I'm hoping that posting it here will make it easier to get it into my bio...

Grace Paley

"None of it happened, and yet every word of it is true."

Grace Paley said that about her fiction, and I think it just about sums up how I think of my work, and how I hope readers will think about it.

Paley died of cancer yesterday. (Click here for her obit.)

I took a seminar this summer where we did close readings of a few of her stories, and boy am I glad I did. I learned so much from her writing about what makes a short, short story work: how the story can simply express a moment in time, and show the slightest change in the character at the end. In that way, I think that Paley's fiction is the heart of truth--after all, to paraphrase the Eagles, people change so slowly if they ever change at all.

Feedback on feedback

What is it about getting feedback from my mentor that throws me into an emotional tail spin? I got my stories and comments back yesterday, and they were really positive. The most positive I have ever gotten (which I think makes sense because this was definitely the best story I've handed in). But still, I can't stop thinking about the comments and trying to make sense of it all...

I got home at 10 last night and saw the envelope in our mail pile. I ripped it open before even saying hello to Brian. I then sat in the living room reading the responses like a zombie while Brian tried to talk to me. When I came up for a breath and he asked, what is that? I told him my mentor response. After I read all the comments, I answered Brian's other question of, what did he think? He liked it, I said. And that was it. Then I went to sleep and lie there thinking and thinking and thinking about the comments.

And I woke up, thinking about them some more. I'm thinking about how to revise the story, how to respond to some of the questions that were brought up regarding my essay. All while I should be focusing on my next story, which I'm now worried will disappoint by not being as good as the first (it's definitely a harder birthing process for this one...). And I'm wondering if my new mentor isn't pushing me hard enough (way to turn good news into bad, huh?).

Anyway, how do you react when you get feedback from teachers, writing groups, friends, etc.?

Sunday Scribbilings: Dear Diary

I'm using this Sunday Scribblings to help me get into the head of my new character, Celia, a woman who is going through a divorce and moves from NYC to Boston to get away from her husband and his mistress. Here is one of her diary entries:

Dear Diary,
I haven't written those words in years. Maybe since those days of 7th and 8th grade when I was so worried about pimples and boys and fitting in. Just like everybody else, though the worst part of course was how alone in my worries I felt. I realize now that there are probably hundreds of women going through the same thing as me now, and probably thousands before me who have too.

But not really. I'm probably the only who moved to a strange city to make sure I never would drop my hot coffee all over my tighted legs when I saw my husband and his mistress in Starbucks, after he told me he had stopped seeing her. And I'm almost definitely the only one who finds healing in the Boston Aquarium--going each morning as soon as it opens to stare at a new spot in the giant column of water that makes up the middle of the building. It's dark and fairly quiet at that hour, and it's the only place where I lose myself and forget my loneliness and fear and betrayal. The fish swim past--different shapes and sizes and colors--and it's amazing how I can be staring at one fish only to realize that there are three more between me and it, only I couldn't notice them and my current obsession at the same time.

And the fish make me laugh. My face will be right up against the tank and an ugly, ugly blow fish will swim by, centimeters away from my face and I'll startle and laugh at the same time. Those moments are probably the only true laughs I've had in months.

I joined a book club, at the insistence of Jen [narrator's best friend in New York, who introduces her to one of the book club members]. The women are all really nice, and I'm sure I'll like going eventually. But I left my first meeting feeling lonelier than I had when I went in. They all knew each other so well, they'd gone traveling together, watched each other get married and have babies.

I realize now that Bobby's gone, nobody knows me that well. Jen is the closest, but we've definitely grown apart since she had her babies. And plus the last few months it's all I could do not to push her away completely. After all, if your husband can betray you and decide unilaterally that the marriage wasn't worth working on, how can I trust anyone? Jen and I met at the same time I met Bobby, so we don't even have more longevity that I can point to as a reason to trust her.

It's impossible for me not to think and think and think about everything--both was has happened and what will happen. That's why I love the aquarium. When I watch the fish, I just watch the fish. It's like an instant meditation. If only they were open 24 hours a day, I might just move in.

For more diary entries--real and imagined--go to Sunday Scribblings.

Goals for the weekend

Thanks to my fellow bloggers' advice (and some days off from work due to food poisoining--hey, at least I got some down time out of the deal!), I've managed to make some progress on my new story. Continuing that progress plays a major role in this weekend.

Work end:
* Write forward for 2 hours every day on story
* Fill out the last section of my thesis essay
* Finish Nervous Conditions (TI,Repeater did you read this for Tony? I like it.) And start on next book.

Fun end:
* See Paris Je T'aime, which I am shocked that Brian is going for!
* Go to a one year old b-day party and an evening adult party involving lots of alcohol and sitting outside.
* Go see the seals at the aquarium! I gave B a gift certificate for Christmas for a chance to "train" the seals. We're finally going! I'm sure I'll post pics. :)

city living blues

We've had trouble with our upstairs neighbors since they moved in. They're loud, loud people who LOVE to blast gross techno music. We've finally, FINALLY started making headway with them (after getting into a screaming match in the middle of the street this winter).

And then, our neighbors on one side (our houses are separated by like 10 feet of grass) have decided that it'd be a fabulous idea to start hanging out in their parking lot, which is very close to our backyard, porch, and bedroom, playing--you guessed it--gross techno and house music out of the back of their car. Oh, and their teens also just sit in the parking lot at all hours of the day/night and rap/talk really loudly.

I'm trying to figure who to talk to--they're renters and I have no idea who owns the building. I wish I had faith enough to try to talk to their mom or them directly, but dealing with Tweedle Dum and Dummer upstairs has sucked that faith right out of me.

I swear, it's only since we bought a place that we've ever had serious neighbor problems. Why oh why does this have to be the case, when we can't move (easily)???

My annoyance about this (which I swear is about to bring me to tears) is amplified by the fact that thanks to food poisining, I haven't left the house in two days. Only 1.4 years until B finishes school and we can move...
OK, rant over.

No traction

I'm having trouble getting going with my new story, which I don't think is normally my problem. What do others do when they get stuck early on? Advice would be most welcome.

What the world needs now...

I believe this is the second time I've blogged about Cary Tennis' Salon.com advice column. What can I say, he writes about artists a lot in an eloquent way. Today's question is from a visual artist who is finding it hard to deal with rejections. Cary's response is long, but here are some of my favorite parts, with some personal comments.

"I have experienced literature that opened the skies for me, that made the earth tremble, that proved the existence of a world right alongside ours, so far superior to ours..... Every time I write I think I am required to make the skies open. I think I have to make the earth tremble. I think I have to reveal the existence of a dazzling universe quietly superseding our own, right next to us in another dimension.... So naturally I fail every day."

I went to a meditation class last night, and one of the themes, if you will, was forgiving yourself. Every time your mind wandered from your breath, you were supposed to say to yourself, "I forgive you." It was so amazingly nurturing to say that to myself about 100 times. That's what this part of Cary's column reminded me of.

This part about finding a supportive group of fellow writers also hit home. I feel so blessed to have found and continue finding other like-minded writers:

"You need constant encouragement and reinforcement in order to keep going. It's not even about feeling good so much. It's just about keeping going. I began to think about athletes....A batter gets a hit maybe every four or five at bats. So that's pretty tough. How would an athlete deal with all that rejection? In sports there is rejection and pain. But there is also joy and encouragement. There are coaches. There are teammates.

Those of us who work alone trying to make the heavens open up and the earth tremble, we need regular encouragement. We need coaches to say, Hey, good game. We need hand slaps and high-fives. Without support we will stop sending out our work."

And lastly, I will point to the part in his column where he explains just why it is that people need positive reinforcement just as much as constructive critism:

"Others have been hard on me as well, and I have sort of invited that. I have said, That's OK, give it to me straight, I can take it. Actually, I couldn't take it. But I would say I could. I believed in the interest of telling it like it is that everybody had to be hard on everybody else and on themselves. That would ensure that we were all aesthetically honest and pure.

Well, so now I am thinking, what good does that do if we become so embittered and afraid of rejection that we can't continue our work? I think what we need is more acceptance and more love.

Well said, Cary! (Click here to read the whole article.)

My Saturday in pictures

Brian and I took a day off, and a day trip to Portland, where we visited an alpaca farm and drank some of the fine local beer. I also bought lots of yarn and finished a knitting project (which I'll post a pic of after it's been blocked).

(Click on the collage to enlarge the photos)