Category: Navel Gazing

Chapter XXXV

The best birthday presents a writer can get, and I got them both today: a new 600-page leather journal from the wife and a contract for the story I mentioned a little while back.

And it’s not even 9:00 AM yet.

I’m waiting on some non-writerly news as well, though it could impact my writing. You’ll know when I (and my wife, and several of my friends) know.

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Edited to add: Sent the contract back and I gots the money!

Some Catching Up

Happenings on the “life outside writing/blogging/anything artistic” front have been flying. News on those if/when things germinate. For now, here’re some things I’ve been meaning to post for the past month…

1
Now what am I supposed to watch on Sunday mornings?

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[Michael] Chabon defends mass entertainment against the accusation that it is merely a formulaic product. At times it is; yet commercial culture’s focus on deadlines and profits can also act as a “quickening force” on an artist’s imagination. He demonstrates this with discerning essays on Arthur Conan Doyle, Will Eisner and Howard Chaykin, all of whom, like Chabon himself, attained the ultimate goal of the “pop artisan”: a delicate balance between “the unashamedly commercial and the purely aesthetic”. He disagrees with those who equate literary entertainment with mindless escapism, passive consumption or unproductive activity (“guilty pleasures” is “a phrase I loathe”). Instead, he finds that different forms of writing offer distinct satisfactions to an alert reader.

3
It’ll probably still be a while before you can neurointerface directly with the internet or your friends and lovers, but psychologists are testing implantable brain ‘pacemakers’ that regulate brain activity and so far appear really useful for treating the most stubborn forms of depression.

But we can dream, can’t we?

4
Some people may think that a monk is somewhat reclusive — kind of isolated, in a bubble, meditating all day. But it’s quite the opposite. I’m on the computer, e-mailing. I’m driving, using cell phones and using Facebook. I have my own Web site.

Maybe becoming a monk isn’t so bad after all.

Home Alone

I saw The Wife off this morning on her trip to Boston to visit family. So now I’m home alone, looking at all the little things around the apartment crying out to be done: dishes, the cluttered living room, my inbox, my tickler files, the book I’m close to done with. i.e. anything other than finishing the damn story I’m working on right now.

“Take a break,” you might say. “Enjoy the sun! Have a cookout!” Already did those things, though, in small bits and pieces. But you’re right, let’s take a moment on Memorial Day to remember…

All right, I feel motivated now.

In the Zone

Last week, I attended the 2008 Rod Serling Conference at Ithaca College, where Serling taught from 1967-1975. I scored a pass because The Wife was a judge in their scriptwriting competition. I saw a lot and learned a lot that I didn’t know. The best part was a session where the speaker presented video clips of small- and large-group lessons given by Serling himself at various workshops. Here’s one such clip, thanks to the piracy joy of YouTube.

The keynote speech at the conference was given by the past dean of the Park School of Communication who had access to unedited clips from this series, filmed on a soundstage at I.C. after a moment, so the story goes, where they finally realized the need to capture Serling’s teaching on camera. The man who was “the head of the class” in that last clip said a few words, as well.

I’ll post a few more clips later. There’s something about them, but to say they’re “inspirational” doesn’t seem quite right. There isn’t too much that any writer hasn’t heard a thousand times over (Serling himself would probably say that). But maybe it’s the sense of universality and timelessness in these forty year-old clips.

In any case, I’m still reeling.

Insult to Injury, Part 2

Did I mention the absolutely craptastic haircut I allowed myself to get? That’s what I get for being near-exhaustion by the time I got to the barber’s. I’m only about 98% over whatever particular Andromeda Strain I’ve suffered for the past week. That last 2% is a doozy, let me tell you.

Literary, Sort of

You Are a Question Mark

You seek knowledge and insight in every form possible. You love learning. And while you know a lot, you don’t act like a know it all. You’re open to learning you’re wrong.

You ask a lot of questions, collect a lot of data, and always dig deep to find out more. You’re naturally curious and inquisitive. You jump to ask a question when the opportunity arises.

Your friends see you as interesting, insightful, and thought provoking. (But they’re not always up for the intense inquisitions that you love!)

You excel in: Higher education

You get along best with: The Comma

Bring Out Your Dead

My house is officially a plague house. I’ve now relapsed about three times, making me call off sick from work today.

You know what this means…random blogging!

1
F&SF has a blog, now.

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The things I miss not checking out McSweeney’s as much as I used to…

Famous Authors Predict the Winner of Super Bowl XLII
by Shane Ryan

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Went to a reading/Q&A by local author Rebecca Barry (website | blog). Didn’t pick up her novel Later, at the Bar right then, but it is on my list.

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Irish coffee seems to be the best for getting me over whatever strain of typhoid I’ve got going on right now.