Category: Navel Gazing

“Everybody needs a little time away…” Part II

It’s actually taken a lot for me to realize just how much I needed a break from this year of hell at the dayjob, even after an extra-long long holiday weekend.  My writing suffered.  I’m not talking about how much I haven’t been writing lately, but the fact that I was convinced that somehow I could get it done if I’d just whipped myself a little harder.  But I think I was, literally, beating a dead horse.

So, I went for another day of frolicking in the sun at the annual summer festival, the one time and place in the year when I don’t mind running into coworkers.

And again, the best part is that this batch of photos is ripe with character ideas!  I’ve already begged off critique group tomorrow to go to the festival’s last day.

“Everybody needs a little time away…”

As if my “wrojo” (i.e. “writing mojo” — brought to you by Regan) wasn’t low enough, there’s been so much more to distract me this past week. There’s been an upsurge in work in my dayjob capacity as the Special Projects Bitch. To unwind, I’ve been taking advantage of the nice weather conciding with my town’s annual summer festival. But hey, sometimes you need some time off from writing and to recharge. And it’s only recently that loafing is only a small part of recharging. The other part, at least for me, is being charged with something–in this case, the energy that drew me to live here in the first place.

Traditionally, the festival starts off with a Thursday night parade.

My favorite part of the parade was the Ithaca League of Women Rollers and their Chia Skate float!

The best part is, there’s at least a half-dozen character ideas in just these photographs.

More to come, as I’ve just spent most of my Saturday. And I plan to spend some of my Sunday, as well.

“Signed, sealed, delivered/ I’m yours”

The contract is signed and in the mail, and the editors announced it, and so I will, too. My story “Combat Stress Reaction” will appear in the Gadgets and Artifacts issue of Crossed Genres on June 1st, along with work from Wendy Wagner, Daniel José Older, Michael Underwood, and Timothy Murphy.

I have nine other pieces currently in circulation, so at least I know I won’t be going 0 for 10, whatever else happens.  I just know that it’s been too long since I signed a story contract and now that daddy’s had another taste, daddy wants more!

Sunday Brain Dump

1
Last night, I went to the season opener double-header for the Ithaca League of Women Rollers, i.e. our two local derby teams, the SufferJets and the Bluestockings.  Great bout!!  A comment was made by one of the announcers, giving me an idea for a short story.

2
Came up with another idea for a short story a couple of days ago.  I think it’s a killer idea.  I don’t have a character in mind for it.  Which means, I don’t have any scenes in mind.  It’s frustrating, because until I come up with one or the other, the idea’s useless to me.

3
I used to keep a monthly scorecard of my short-story submissions, but explaining why I didn’t submit any stories for a given month got old.  I got back on a submissions kick this month, putting out 5 previously rejected stories and 3 new ones.  I’ve already gotten 3 rejections back.  *sigh*

Gotta keep pushing!

4
It’s taken me two years for me to follow my own advice and start reading Ben Tanzer‘s book Most Likely You Go Your Way and I’ll Go Mine.  You know how it is.  You intend to order something that’s not available at your local bookstore, and you just put off doing it.  And then, it does appear at your local bookstore.

Yo, Ben — I started it and I’m liking what I’m reading so far.  Sorry it took me so long!

Ben Tanzer, Most Likely You Go Your Way And I'll Go Mine

5
This is part of a push on my part to read more novels in 2010.  How else am I ever going to learn to write one…?

6
It has its flaws (which I understand are soon to be remedied), but I’m still in love with mint.com.  It’s given me something I’ve needed for a long time, namely a way of GTD-ing my money management.

7
I cannot tell you how much I’m enjoying the 2010 series of Doctor Who.  I wasn’t up in arms about David Tennant leaving the role, because I’d learned my lesson.  I remember ranting in 2005, “What do you mean Christopher Eccleston’s leaving?”  I had no idea how good Tennant was going to be.  Well, I looked forward to Matt Smith’s performance, and so far, so good.  And I admit that he rocks the tweed jacket better than I do.

Not only that, but so far the new head-writer/producer Steven Moffat has delivered, too, AFAIC.  The BBC made the right choice, giving the show to the writer whose episodes have won Hugo awards.  No, the episodes haven’t been perfect but I’m very, very impressed with what he’s done with the show’s tone.  Everything people say about the fairy-tale/fantasy tone is all true.  The first two episodes, especially, seemed like a sci-fi version of Pan’s Labyrinth.  The only to make them better would be to have had them directed by Guillermo Del Toro.

8
I really need to do something about my home office.  I’m fighting the clutter lately, and losing.  The trouble is, the only solution is hard for me to face.  I need a new desk with more tabletop real estate, which means taking the time and trouble to empty out and junk my old desk.  Dammit.

#

I think that’s it for now.

Practical Magic

Let me tell you something
I’ve met men in jail who had more style
than the people who hang around colleges
and go to poetry readings
They’re bloodsuckers who come to see
if the poet’s socks are dirty
or if he smells under the arms
Believe me I won’t disappoint em

-Raymond Carver, “You Don’t Know What Love Is (An Evening with Charles Bukowski)”

I did not to a poetry reading last Friday night, but I did go to a Paint Off–an annual fundraiser featuring local artists who had one hour to create artpiece which would be auctioned off to benefit a local summer festival.

I wasn’t the only one gawking at them and taking pictures, and I admit going with some romanticized delusion about watching a piece of art being conjured out of thin air from nothing but the Muse’s direction.  I’m willing to bet I wasn’t the only one doing that, either. Then I gave the matter a second’s thought and I finally realized that these weren’t “artistes” whose socks were dirty or who smell under the arms. They were artists who were working.

I saw people with their sleeves rolled up, sweating, scrambling, and getting their hands dirty.  I saw noses put to the grindstone. 


This is the real magic of art to me, whether it’s painting, sculpting, music–or even writing.  This is the level of professionalism I want to attain. 

This inspires me.

You?

One Good Turn, &c.

So, I may not be sure exactly where I fit into the whole social-writer-networking thing, but I at least know to return a compliment.  I’m a little late, but let me return a shout-out to Medeia, who gave me The Picasso Award last week.

The idea is to post seven truths about myself and invite others to do the same.  Now, in the interest of bandwidth conservation, I don’t like pressuring people into playing along.  But by all means, any and all comers are welcome to.

So, here goes.  But, caveat emptor: I share the same views on truth as Obi-Wan Kenobi.

  1. One of my mutant superpowers is the ability to hum along with the horn lines from any Chicago song on any Chicago album.
  2. If an object can cut a person, I can probably use it effectively as a weapon.
  3. I’m a caffeine abuser. Always have been.  And even though I struggle to moderate my use, I really don’t have any plans to cut it out completely.  
  4. While I like the idea of turning the other cheek, I don’t do it as much as I should. I treat my emotional and verbal battles like physical altercations, i.e. I counterattack while I’m defending myself.  In both cases, that response was developed after years of training.
  5. “Plan Z” (aka “My life plan if all else fails and falls apart”) is to take my trumpet and wander the earth like Caine in Kung-Fu, playing and finding adventure.
  6. It’s been too long since I’ve played a table-top role-playing game.
  7. My writing owes as much to jazz musician Chet Baker as it does to Raymond Carver.

Any questions?

My Branding Motto

I see lots of Twitter discussions and blog entries on the importance of social networking and branding for writers. I have my share of sites (just look at my sidebar), and have given some thought to what my “brand” might be (or should be), so I certainly don’t knock the idea.  

Yes, publishing’s moving. Yes, a writer (any artist, really) should be online somehow. But, how much time and energy do I spend doing this?  Where do I spend it?  More importantly, what about the writing?  Makes me wonder if I have to be Don Draper to figure this all out.

Alan DeNiro (author of one of my favorite short story collections, Skinny Dipping in the Lake of the Dead) has also tried to ponder these mysteries, partially spurred on by a presentation at SXSWi, at which the assertion was made that…

An author is no longer an individual working in a room alone, but the leader of an online “tribe” of followers –- the people who comprise the author’s audience. Several example kept coming up, wine guy Gary Vaynerchuck, author of Crush It!, business guru Seth Godin; and Kroszer’s favorite example, The Pioneer Woman, who “could organize a tour on her own without the help of a publisher.” The consensus, from another panel –- “Scoring a Tech Book Deal” was that a potential author needed a minimum of 5,000 Twitter followers.

Now, I have no intention of being John the Baptist in sackcloth and ashes, crying out in the wilderness.  I’m not going to rail about art vs. commerce.  I’m just saying that as I look at my “writers” list on Twitter and the Google Friendconnect bloggers I’m following on the sidebar–which accounts for only a third of the writer blogs I follow on my RSS feed reader–I see exactly the tribalism that’s being talked about.  Book and story reviewing, writers of every level interviewing other writers of every level, guest blogging, group blogging — and I honestly have no idea where I fit in yet.

Until I figure it out, though, I feel I’m doing two things absolutely right…

  • I’m writing what I want to write, and I’m putting it out there.
  • I’m connecting with “the right people.”

Mystery Science Theater 3000‘s Joel Hodgson said his crew was never worried if not everyone would get their arcane references, because “the right people will get it.”  Who are “the right people?”

First, I’ll talk about how I collect them. I collect them the way I collect comic books after the 90s when people realized they just didn’t need 8 variant covers of the same damn first issue of every book with an X in the title.  I invest in the books I want to read.  The ones that interest me.  Same with the folks I follow on any given social network I belong to.  I follow them ‘cos I want to.  Because they pique my curiousity, or enthrall me with their points of view, or they’re doing exactly what I want to be doing, the way I hope to do it.  And, I strive to be equally interesting to them.  And I accomplish this by putting myself out there, and responding the best I can to what these people put out there.

I read an interview with–well, I forget if it was Ricky Gervais or Eddie Izzard.  To paraphrase my favorite bit of that interview, I’d rather be 1000 people’s favorite writer than 10,000 people’s 10th favorite writer.  The way I see it, my chances of accomplishing that are better when I develop–okay, a tribe–of people who “get” me.

i.e. “The right people.”

I guess you could say my branding strategy so far can be best summed up in the poem “Motto” by Langston Hughes…

I play it cool
And dig all jive
That’s the reason
I stay alive.
My motto,
as I live and learn,
         is:
Dig and be dug
In return.

Now, I did say “so far.”  So, tell me — am I missing anything?  What else should I be considering?  I want to hear especially from my peeps that have blogged about this in the past (don’t make me go back through all the Read items in Google Reader, pleeeease?).  Am I thinking too hard about all this?  Or not hard enough?

Educate me.

Hail to the King, Baby

Two songs and two thoughts went through my mind as I sat in this chair, getting this picture taken at a local winery.

I’ve got to keep my image while suspended on a throne
That looks out upon a kingdom filled with people all unknown
Who imagine I’m not human and my heart is made of stone
And I’ve never had no problems and my toliet’s trimmed with gold

Spencer Davis Group, “I’m a Man”

What that idiotic smirk on my face doesn’t show is the inner realization that if those lyrics resonated with even the smallest part of me, then I have only myself to blame.  If I do portray this image, it’s because I’ve developed a Game Face.  I wondered if the Game Face may be part of some psychological defense mechanism that may or may not be needed anymore.  I wondered if maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance that my life might be better off without it.

But then, I remembered the words to another song…

I was the king of the world
I had every thing thrown at me,
That the judge and jury could hurl
I was the man of the hour
I would claw and scratch my way up,
To the very top of the tower

-Toto, “King of the World”

Then I realized there were reasons I was the way I am.  No, I haven’t been severely traumatized or anything, at least no more so than your average Joe.  But somewhere along the way, I decided the Game Face became a handy tool for helping me get back up whenever I was knocked down.  I decided that maybe it was the price of doing business in life.  I decided that it wasn’t making me hard or calloused in the way people don’t like – the way that makes you slow, closed-off, and numb.  I decided that it made me stronger – like a fighter who’s not only conditioned to take a hit and get back up, but is willing to step back into the ring and tell the next chump (read: bit of disappointment) who wants a piece, “Come get some.”

I decided it’s good to be the king.

Tough Love

Been awhile since I’ve attended the literary vivisection that is my biweekly critique group with something to read.  This week, I brought in a 996-word flash fiction piece, written to a story prompt I found online–sorry, but due to the rules of the forum, I can’t post the prompt here.

Anyway, here’s what the gang had to say…

FTW!

  • I was unsatisfied with the working title I gave the story, but at least one reader thought it fit just fine.
  • As usual, at least one reader called my story “intriguing.”
  • People liked my description of “bad college behavior,” especially in regard to one peculiar substance.

StoryFail

  • That certain peculiar substance didn’t click as much for a couple of readers as much as for the rest.  They understood how I used it; just didn’t resonate, it seemed.
  • Only one reader out of eight seemed completely satisfied with how I ended the piece.  Most, even those who understood the implications, still thought the ending could’ve been “stronger” or “more clever.”

A short critique for a short piece.  Sometimes, though, I don’t feel I deserve the praise I sometimes get for my flash.  Flash seems to cover a multitude of sins, where my writing is concerned.  It makes sense–the more I write, the more that can go wrong.  But sometimes, I feel like the success–or lack thereof–of my longer pieces is more representative of my current abilities. Oh, well…