March 27, 2007 at 3:16 am (Writing)
Surgery is now moved up to Thursday morning.
I hope that because it will be done sooner that the infection’s source is removed and then he will heal and then we can stop hanging out with surgeons all the time and we can all go back to a semi-normal life.
Maybe.
March 7, 2007 at 3:08 pm (Writing)
. . . in hopes that it becomes writing. I was on a roll for about a week and then last week got crazy and my rhythm was broken and now I’m writing one piddling paragraph at a time. It’s like rabbit turds.
February 18, 2007 at 5:06 pm (Writing)
Taken, with love, from jadepark.
Look at the list of books below. Bold the ones you’ve read, italicise the ones you want to read, cross out the ones you won’t touch with a 10 foot pole, put a cross (+) in front of the ones on your book shelf, and asterisk (*) the ones you’ve never heard of. Like jadepark, I’ve left unformatted the books to which I feel perfectly indifferent.
1. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown) – I argue regularly with a professor about the value of trash. I see some books as the equivalent of Oreos, or Cheetos–they are not good for you, but damn, they are tasty. So, I started it and thought it was boring and stopped reading. The movie was mildly entertaining.
2. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen) – I haven’t read it. I’ve read Northanger Abbey, Emma and some other one. All Jane Austen reads the same to me. As a lit nerd, it’s fun in terms of theory. As a reader, I’m not so enthralled.
3. (+) To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee) – Still makes me weep.
4. (+) Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell) – Entertaining. Like the movie more.
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien) – Read it in high school. Love the premise, the story, the maps, the ingenuity. Really hard to get through.
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien) – see #5
7. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien) – see #5, 6
8. (+) Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery) – I’d like to go back and re-read this book to see what I think now, but I re-read it in college one time when I was home on vacation and still loved it. I’ve read just about everything LM Montgomery ever wrote, including the novellas and “found” manuscripts. Between the ages of 9 and 14, I was always Anne in my dreams. Read the rest of this entry »
February 17, 2007 at 4:30 pm (Writing)
I haven’t been keeping up much here, mainly because I’ve been putting my energies into grading and writing (and a helluva lot of baking too). But, I think a followup is needed to the last post, on hitting my stride.
In the past week, I received word that I was accepted to both of the writers’ conferences I applied to. It has given me such a confidence boost; it’s outside validation that i’m not a total fraud. I think I realized that last night, even before I knew I had gotten into the second conf.
I met with my thesis advisor earlier in the day. I have a due date–APRIL 20. A chunk of a draft of a novel is due on April 20. I have two months. And this makes me so happy for some reason, that I’m somehow more of a real writer because of this. And then, my first story of the term was workshopped last night. GREAT workshop, btw–very helpful. Only thing is, the last few times I’ve been workshopped, I’ve had full-fledged panic attacks during them. Having others critique your work, even on a good day, is difficult enough. So I went to my prof and told her exactly what I was afraid of, and asked if I could go first to get it down with. She was wonderful (because she always is), and said that was fine, and to feel free to just walk out if I needed air, that she would cover for me.
And, of course, because I called my panic on it’s on little game, it didn’t happen. It felt really good.
I finally believe I’m a writer. I don’t know why I didn’t fully believe that before, but all this good news and good progress towards something feels so right. I think every writer–as well as ever teacher–often questions whether she is a fraud. And today, at least, I’m not questioning.
January 31, 2007 at 11:49 pm (MFA, Writing)
People who don’t know me well often think that because I dare call myself a writer, I must hole myself up and not sleep and hunch over a keyboard (or a typewriter) and bang away at it instead of, you know, living.
If that were the definition of a writer, then I would be a very bad writer. I suppose that other writers (because, like African-Americans and Jews, we apparently all know each other) would give me a scarlet “B” to wear on my coat for “bad”.
Cough. (On the other side of cyberspace, I’m rolling my eyes.)
In truth, lately I have been a very good writer. I sent out two applications for summer writing workshops and a contest entry. All of those submissions feature work that I feel strongly about. I want someone else to read it. I want someone to pay it the attention it deserves.
I also have started a new piece. All because instead of hoping for some magical eight-hour block of time to devote to my writing, I’m writing instead in fits and spurts when I have a moment. I’m forcing myself to write when I have short moments to myself–and it’s working.
It makes me feel better about calling myself a writer. And maybe, just maybe, someone else will think enough of what I’ve submitted to call me one, too.
January 13, 2007 at 4:39 pm (MFA, Teaching, Writing)
Warning: Somewhat sappy inspirationalism ahead. I needed to remind myself of why I’m going to be focused today and for the rest of the term.
What day?
The day I decide to get everything done. Somehow. With the BF visiting family and most of my friends out of town for the holiday, I’m getting my syllabus done, finishing an essay to submit for a contest (it’s almost done), writing a reference letter for a student, and then–in true triage fashion–once all of that is done, work on my short story/possible novel-in-progress.
I’m being ambitious, but it’s necessary. My “resolutions” this year involve being more goal-oriented. I think it’s assumed that most people have a basic sense of “wanting” something and doing what needs (or they feel needs) to be done to earn or achieve that something. I used to be a “go-getter.” I used to make plans and execute those plans meticulously in order to achieve my goals. I earned accolades, leadership positions, entrance into my first-choice undergraduate college. And then. . . I stopped. Read the rest of this entry »
December 15, 2006 at 2:11 am (Writing)
I just got a semi-personalized rejection letter from a lit mag, with encouragement to submit again. Yay! That’s a first! I am strangely heartened by this.
December 2, 2006 at 2:53 pm (Writing)
Leaving campus last night, I was feeling pretty crappy. Getting sick, kinda stressed, blah blah blah end of term.
Then I saw this and snapped it with my camera phone, which doesn’t do it justice, but is better than nothing.
Pretty, sparkly things.
November 29, 2006 at 5:59 am (Drama, Writing)
Or, a Semi-Socratic Dialogue on the Nothingness of Sid Vicious and the Everythingness of My Mother
SCENE: Outside the literature building. Damp but warmer-than-normal late November evening. Two characters: Prof and Writer Whom I Respect and Adore (PWWIRA). Me.
PWWIRA: So what do you mean that it irks you that people wanted more “you” in your piece? Most of your pieces have so much you!
ME: Because in the end it all goes back to my mother.
PWWIRA: Wait! How? This is a profile of a musician!
ME: Because my mother used to work in a record store and raised me on the Sex Pistols, the Clash, Elvis Costello, David Bowie. When I was five I looked at her and asked, “Mommy, what’s a Sex Pistol?”
PWWIRA: [Signature gasp and hand clap. Seriously, the man is known for this] Really! Why that is fascinating! So why not write it?
ME: Because it’s always about her.
PWWIRA: Are you saying every piece you write features her?
ME: In some form, yes.
PWWIRA: Even your fiction last semester? The depressed woman who never ate and the daughter who went to the SF market to find joy?
ME: [Inwardly rolling eyes and wishing for a crock of St. Benoit yogurt as he mentions this]. Of course.
PWWIRA: And tonight’s piece–she’s there too.
ME: Yup. Wormed her way in.
PWWIRA: That is truly fascinating. Just go and write it. Write her in until you cannot write her in any more.
ME: That’s a lot of writing. Especially with the onset of carpal tunnel.
PWWIRA: But you must.
November 28, 2006 at 12:55 am (Crafty, Drama, knit, MFA, Writing, yarn)
Originally uploaded by loosegreentea.
I have to finish the Big Bad Baby Blanket by Saturday. And grade papers. And do this thing they call “work”. And deal with apartment management b.s.
I realized today, as I wrote an old professor for guidance into the big bad world of PhDs, that I’m in a crisis of faith. No, not as in “is there a God” or anything actually worth having a crisis of faith about. I’m having a massive crisis of identity: I’m having a crisis of faith in myself. Do I teach? Do I find a “real” job (ick)? Do I go get my PhD? Is it even worth continuing to write when I’m too afraid to even submit my work?
Even knitting is hard these days. My right shoulder and wrist have gone berserk and I’m in excruciating pain.
I wish I could hibernate in the winter. It would all be so much easier.
 | sara on Finally, a happy post! |
 | jadepark on Finally, a happy post! |
| sara on Three years ago |
| jadepark on Three years ago |
| sara on And Flip Switch to Autopi… |
The Fifth Chakra 