So

May 22, 2010

How does time slip away so fast? I was just saying to my buddy Eduardo yesterday that days and weeks and months just fly by now that I’m a grown up. I remember being in junior high or high school and feeling as if the days and weeks dragged on. Now I wish they would slow down.

I’m inches away from being done with teaching for the semester. Final exams are next week and I have a table full of essays to grade but I’ll get through it. On the other side is a summer of writing, reading, and (unfortunately?) very little paid work/teaching. I’ll be running a once a week night Fiction Read & Critique at San Diego Writers, Ink starting in mid-June and I do the programming for the organization but that’s it as far as work. One of the worst summers I’ve ever had as far as finances but hopefully unemployment will not screw me over! I know I should also be happy for the time to write, too.

And, I’ve got my full fellowship at Summer Fishtrap Workshops and Gathering– in July. Cannot wait for this experience<–Look! I’m on their website! Look at the incredible other fellows! Look I’ll be working with Karen Fisher (I’m almost done with the masterful A Sudden Country) and meeting Gary Snyder!

So yes, lots of writing, but I’m also eager to do some reading this summer, some real reading.

On my list:

Tinkers, Paul Harding

Model Home, Eric Puchner

Falling to Heaven, Jeanne Peterson (she gave a reading at The Ink Spot– wonderful, wonderful)

Sunnyside, Glen David Gold

Oh, and did I mention I have two publications that have recently come out?

It All Changed in an Instant: More Six Word Memoirs by Writers Famous and Oscure

I guess I’m one of the obscure writers; they didn’t even tell me I’d been accepted. I found out from someone else. Still, I’m happy they published mine–it’s a pretty good one (and if you know me you’ll understand why when you read it–it’s on pg. 91).

and

6S (Six Sentences), Vol. 3– Edited by Lydia Davis (LYDIA DAVIS!!!!)

This one I knew about–though I didn’t know Lydia Davis was a part of it. Very cool. My very-very short story (duh, it’s only Six Sentences) is called “July 24, 1985″ and is on pg 57.

And, speaking of writing… tomorrow is the Blazing Laptops Write-a-Thon, of which I am a participant. I’ll be writing for 9 hours–tapping away at my keyboard–to raise money for San Diego Writers, Ink–the nonprofit writing organization where I do the programming.

Anyone who pledges $10 or more (flat amount) gets a postcard handmade by yours truly.These will be brand new and each one uniquely made for each person who pledges.

You can pledge here: Rob’s Blazing Laptop Pledge Page

To see examples of my postcards check out my Flickr account to the right–>

Thanks for your support. Have a great week!

Posted in Fishtrap, books, crafts, fiction, my writing, postcards, writers, writing residencies No Comments »

Mr. Peabody’s Mermaid

May 8, 2010

For my birthday Ted got for me this great vintage Pocket Book, Peabody’s Mermaid, by Guy and Constance Jones–and it came today in the mail.  The book, this version of which was published in 1948 (it was also serialized in Cosmopolitan Magazine in 1945!), is a movie tie-in. I think I’ve mentioned it before but I’ve been collecting vintage paperbacks–especially movie tie-ins for a while now. One of these days I’ll post my whole collection–they’re really pretty remarkable.

The film, “Mr. Peabody and the Mermaid,” starred William Powell and Ann Blyth and looks quite similar to the Ron Howard-directed “Splash.” The reviews aren’t very kind, Halliwell’s Film Guide calls it “a boneheaded quick cash-in…”

And IMDB states that one of the goofs includes: In the underwater fight scene, one shot shows that the fishtail costume had clearly separated from Lenore’s (the mermaid’s) back.

Nice.

Click to read the excerpt on the back cover.

“It was incredible but there it was: his catch, from the waist up, was a woman! Her little breasts were pointed and rosy tipped. On a small scale, she was maturely voluptuous!”

Hmm, rather, erm, titillating for 1945, eh?

Posted in Movies, books, fiction, ted, vintage books No Comments »

“I’m only interested in surviving the draft”– Ron Carlson

April 27, 2010

It’s been over a week, sorry, since my last post. Lots going on– school is coming to a close– I finish teaching the last week of May. I cannot wait. I’ve rented an office with a co-worker of mine–it’s beautiful, pics to come! So I plan on spending my summer writing–especially since I have literally no work/job this summer–SCARY!

There’s just no teaching. I applied for some part-time teaching at a couple of other schools but it looks pretty dismal.

Hopefully unemployment will kick in and they won’t screw me this time like they have in the past.

In other, happier news I went to the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books last Saturday–took a bus up with Judy Reeves and other wonderful folk as part of San Diego Writers, Ink– and had a great, if overwhelming time. Overwhelming because there’s so much to do, see, so many books, panels, booths.

I did get to see panels featuring:

Colson Whitehead–looking awesome, handsome as usual and when he said, “I’m obsessed with outlining. I like to know what happens”– I wanted to go up and shake his hand, or kiss him. Probably kiss him. (ok, I admit to a guy-crush on Colson Whitehead. If that makes me gay, so be it. Oh, wait. I am gay).

Paul Harding—the guy that just won the Pulitzer and a Guggenheim (I bought and he signed his PP winning book: Tinkers, which looks beautiful and the reviews are staggeringly positive. He was also very sweet and gracious).

Rafael Yglesias–whose book, A Happy Marriage (a fictionalization of meeting his wife and then losing her to cancer), sounds heartbreaking and glorious and I think I’ll need to put it on my list. He also said, “Reading poetry helps bring emotional power to your own writing. You can’t make books or stories vivid without doing something to the language.”

Antonya Nelson–she was dead on when, speaking of the importance of reading (as learning tools, as inspiration, as teacher), she said: “A lot of what I’m writing is a response to what I’ve read.”

Marisa Silver–Love, love, love her story collection: Babe in Paradise who said “the story has to be an exploration for you.”

Ron Carlson– “I’m only interested in surviving the draft.” Love that line. I took a Creative Writing class from him at Arizona State in the mid-late 90s.

I also attended the “History Through the Lens of Fiction” panel featuring Tom Curwen, Gabrielle Burton, Thaisa Frank, and Indu Sundaresan. All very accomplished writers of historical fiction. One interesting thought I came away with is: “Finding parallels in your work (the historical fiction you are writing) and the world of today.”

Oh, and I came away with a new subscription to Tin House, too!

More on writing… later.

Posted in books, fiction, my latest man-crush, my writing, nonfiction, poetry, travel, writers No Comments »

Cat Fancy

April 16, 2010

So I haven’t done anything with those window frames yet…BUT I WILL! MARK MY WORDS!

Anyway, it was my cat Hermia’s 19th birthday yesterday, April 15. Yes, 19. Can you believe it?

I can’t. I was never a cat person. We had them growing up, off and on. Names like Cinders, and Felix, and Truffle (actually I made that last name up). But these cats came and went like roommates in a Brooklyn apartment. I never was that attached to any of them. I got Hermia from a friend who basically said (asked?): “I’m moving into a new place and my new housemate is allergic to cats but it’s only temporary…”

Well, temporary has now turned into 19 years.

Now I can’t imagine my life the last 19 years without her. Basically she and I grew up together. She’s seen me through 3 states, several boyfriends, and all kinds of drama, heartache, success. She’s an odd cat; for most of her life she was pretty darn fat. Obese some might say. She had this belly that hung down and brushed the floor when she walked. And she was a talker– talked all the time as if she were holding a conversation with you.

Me: Hi Hermia, how are you today?

Hermia: Mew. Mew. Mewwww. Reowrrr.

You get the picture.

We used to call her the Shelly Winters of cats. But now she’s more like the Jessica Tandy of cats.

Ok. I’m beginning to realize that I’m now devoting this blog post to my cat, which isn’t what I was planning to do; however, I do find it pretty amazing that she’s now 19 fricken years old, you know? Yes, she’s arthritic, cranky, poopy, skinny as a grasshopper, peeing everywhere, staring into space most of the time, but she’s actually pretty loving still, too. Sleeps right next to me, (well, um, in between me and Ted) and every once in a while let’s out a bit of a Meowrrr like the kitty I once knew.

Next post: my beanie cat collection!

Just kidding. Next post I’ll talk about writing/writers again. I promise.

a. Hermia, early 1990s

b. early 2000′s

c. mid-2000′s w/Betsy

d. today (check out that waist! most women would kill for that!!)

Posted in cats, hermia 2 Comments »

Beauty

April 9, 2010

Been wanting to do something crafty lately. Paint. Collage. Make soap. Make something.

I get restless when I haven’t created something in a while. Not that writing isn’t creating but a novel is such a long process that I need to feel that I’ve finished something, you know?

A couple of weeks ago Ted and I went to a BBQ at our friend Jason’s and the house next door had all of these old window frames, with the glass still in them, in their front yard with a sign that said “Free.” So I took some. 4 actually.

What am I going to do with them? I dunno, but they’re so cool. Of course they need to be cleaned– the glass anyway. I wouldn’t touch the peeled paint and the scratches and rust of the window lock. There’s a sad beauty in them, no? The faded pink and blue.

Maybe I’ll find a way to paint or collage on them. I love the idea of the glass–being able to see through something; the transparency.

Speaking of beautiful, I still want to do something with this hilarious calendar I bought from Etsy a couple of years back.  Ah, Beauty Queens.

She Walks in Beauty

by Lord Byron

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

Posted in Uncategorized, crafts, my writing, poetry, writers 1 Comment »

A Sudden Country

March 29, 2010

Reading the book A Sudden Country by Karen Fisher; she’s one of the featured writers at Fishtrap, where I won a fellowship for July so I thought I’d better read her book. It’s won or been nominated for a slew of awards and it turns out I remember this book being reviewed in Entertainment Weekly a few years ago and thought at the time it sounded intriguing.

“The tough poetry of Fisher’s novel buoys this chronicle of Oregon migation along on an incantatory wave. It’s 1847 and dour patriarch Israel Mitchell drags his reluctant wife , Lucy, and their chilren out to the Oregon Territory. Their paths cross with James McLaren, a bereaved Scot trapper whose children have all died from smallpox and whose Nez Perce wife has run off. Each day the murderous landscape spools mercilessly ahead of the emigrants, and Fisher’s depiction of a familiar seeming journey that is not adventurous, as myth would have it, but a daily exercise in folly and survival, is astonishing. A Sudden Country requires a patient reader, but the spell it casts is transformative and rare. The heartbreaking first chapter alone is worth any number of lesser novels.”

The review doesn’t lie. The first chapter left me breathless. When I finished the chapter I turned to Ted (we were both reading before bed) and said “Wow.” I didn’t have the words to describe how mesmerized and devastated I was by that first, extremely short chapter. This is what editors and agents mean when they say the first chapter (let alone the first page) must grab you and pull you in.

Happily, the rest of the book is proving just as beautifully written and intriguing and surprising. One particularly moving turn of phrase:

He remembered the dry grief cracking out.

Fisher is teaching a daily workshop called “Spirit and Matter in Historical Fiction” that I’ve signed up for. I can’t wait!

On a probably not-so-related note, or, well, speaking of the big country, the wild west, I watched “Calamity Jane“– the western musical starring Doris Day as the title character and Howard Keel as Wild Bill Hickok, her eventual love interest. The film and the Academy Award-winning song “Secret Love” is referenced in my book as is the hunky Howard Keel.  Though I think this photo on the left is from “Annie Get Your Gun” in which Keel also starred, this time playing opposite another brassy blonde: Betty Hutton.

“Calamity Jane” has its moments, but I was really just watching to see Keel (my main character has a crush on him; it’s easy to see why) and to hear the song. You can see/hear it here.

Posted in Movies, books, fiction, my latest man-crush, my writing, television, writers, writing residencies No Comments »

The Poetry of the Earth

March 20, 2010

Did I mention I finished my cactus garden a few weeks ago? I don’t think I did.

I took this beat up, decrepit old wooden bucket that was on the side of our house.

And turned it into this.

…and now it’s completely thriving.

The poetry of the earth is never dead.  ~John Keats

I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars.  ~Walt Whitman

Posted in my plants, poetry, writers 2 Comments »

Rough It Up

March 14, 2010

So I found out a few days ago that I’ve won a full fellowship (even a travel stipend!) to Fishtrap– a week-long conference, workshop and mini-writing residency in the northeast corner of Oregon. I’m thrilled. It’s a week of conferences, readings, and writing workshops–especially this cool one I’m registered for on writing historical fiction (as I am) with Karen Fisher, author of A Sudden Country. Hopefully there will be some time to write, too!

I’ve applied before and never gotten in, but this time I applied with an excerpt from the new book (ditto for Vermont). Maybe this is telling me something?

Also, revisited this article by Elizabeth Sims from February 2009 Writer’s Digest: Rough It Up–Get Messy with your First Draft to Get to the Good Stuff.

“Legibility is overrated. Remember that.”

Love it.

Posted in my writing, travel, writers, writing residencies 8 Comments »

The Best of Everything

March 4, 2010

I really shouldn’t have, but I bought this pulp novel on Ebay a week ago and just got it in the mail.–it was just a $1.99.

I’m a sucker for these pulps from the 50s/60s–but especially if they’re film tie-ins, like this one:

The Best of Everything written by Rona Jaffe.

The movie starred Hope Lange, Stephen Boyd, model Suzy Parker, Diane Baker, Bob Evans (yes, The Kid Stays in the Picture), and special guest Joan Crawford!

Here’s a review.

If you haven’t seen it, it’s on DVD (I own it, natch).

The movie is totally melodramatic (“An expose of the lives and loves of Madison Avenue working girls and their higher ups”) and most of the story takes place in a publishing house–where Joan is the top editor.

Here’s a classic scene between Joan and Hope Lange–guess which lines are Joan’s…

Amanda Farrow: When you finish the slush files, then you may go. But I want my comments on each.
Caroline Bender: Typed?
Amanda Farrow: No Miss Bender. Beat it out on a native drum.

Posted in Movies, books, fiction, shopping, vintage books 1 Comment »

Marginalia

February 27, 2010

Don’t know why I had never seen this poem by Billy Collins before:

Marginalia

Sometimes the notes are ferocious,
skirmishes against the author
raging along the borders of every page
in tiny black script.
If I could just get my hands on you,
Kierkegaard, or Conor Cruise O’Brien,
they seem to say,
I would bolt the door and beat some logic into your head.

Other comments are more offhand, dismissive -
“Nonsense.” “Please!” “HA!!” -
that kind of thing.
I remember once looking up from my reading,
my thumb as a bookmark,
trying to imagine what the person must look like
why wrote “Don’t be a ninny”
alongside a paragraph in The Life of Emily Dickinson.

Students are more modest
needing to leave only their splayed footprints
along the shore of the page.
One scrawls “Metaphor” next to a stanza of Eliot’s.
Another notes the presence of “Irony”
fifty times outside the paragraphs of A Modest Proposal.

Or they are fans who cheer from the empty bleachers,
Hands cupped around their mouths.
“Absolutely,” they shout
to Duns Scotus and James Baldwin.
“Yes.” “Bull’s-eye.” “My man!”
Check marks, asterisks, and exclamation points
rain down along the sidelines.

And if you have managed to graduate from college
without ever having written “Man vs. Nature”
in a margin, perhaps now
is the time to take one step forward.

We have all seized the white perimeter as our own
and reached for a pen if only to show
we did not just laze in an armchair turning pages;
we pressed a thought into the wayside,
planted an impression along the verge.

Even Irish monks in their cold scriptoria
jotted along the borders of the Gospels
brief asides about the pains of copying,
a bird signing near their window,
or the sunlight that illuminated their page-
anonymous men catching a ride into the future
on a vessel more lasting than themselves.

And you have not read Joshua Reynolds,
they say, until you have read him
enwreathed with Blake’s furious scribbling.

Yet the one I think of most often,
the one that dangles from me like a locket,
was written in the copy of Catcher in the Rye
I borrowed from the local library
one slow, hot summer.
I was just beginning high school then,
reading books on a davenport in my parents’ living room,
and I cannot tell you
how vastly my loneliness was deepened,
how poignant and amplified the world before me seemed,
when I found on one page

A few greasy looking smears
and next to them, written in soft pencil-
by a beautiful girl, I could tell,
whom I would never meet-
“Pardon the egg salad stains, but I’m in love.”

Included in the book, Sailing Around the Room: New and Selected Poems

Posted in art, collage, my latest man-crush, poetry, writers 1 Comment »