“With A Little Help from My Friends”

April 14, 2012

At AWP last month, I had dinner with friends I’d met at the Tin House conference in 2010. Among our group was an author whose debut novel will be out in August. She was talking about the challenge in finding reviewers who she could be sure would be honest, and she mentioned how she gets tired of all the Facebook postings from writers recommending their friends’ books because she’s not sure if she can trust them. Even book blurbs have become suspect. And, therein lies a truth and a problem.

Facebook, Goodreads, Twitter, LinkedIn, you name the social media outlet, are all good avenues for writers to promote their work and others’ work that they choose to support. I made a mistake once on Goodreads and have never repeated it. I did overrate a friend’s book. I clicked the stars and walked away and felt lousy. While I had seen some early drafts of the book, I hadn’t seen the end until it was out. When I read it, I was disappointed. Not that it was awful, it wasn’t. But there were some “chunks,” where I thought, too bad you didn’t work with a better editor. Unfortunately, in that one case, I did let my friendship color my ranking. As I said, I learned from that experience.

I’ve written before that I don’t consider myself a book reviewer. I’m not interested, yet, in writing the analysis and in-depth critique that good book reviewers do. When I have authors on PamWrites (see posts with Alan Heathcock, Rebecca Rasmussen, Steve Almond, Amber Dermont, Robert Vaughan and Susan Tepper), they’re here because I’ve read their work and enjoyed it. But, when these people are your friends (as Amber and Robert are), there is a fear that my support of their work will be dismissed because of that friendship. Trust me, I have writer friends whose books I’ve read (and sometimes not) that I wouldn’t write about here. They’ve written a book that just isn’t for me.

I have a dear writer friend. I adore her as well as her work. Soon, I will be doing an indepth post with her. She is a wonderful human being. Carol Wobig writes short stories that make you stop as you’re reading to mavel at the characters, sentences, the delicious resemblance to Grace Paley and Alice Munro‘s work. We are both friends with Judy Bridges and met through the community Judy birthed here in Milwaukee, Redbird Studio and now, RedBird-RedOak Writing. Judy has a great post up, It Takes A Village, detailing the many friends it took to help Carol Wobig publish her first collection of short stories, Poached is Not an Option. Judy references Carol’s mention of a “see me” from an eighth grade English teacher who told Carol she should think about being a writer:

“It’s a long road from the first “See me,” to the first, “I love your book,” and no one walks the road alone.”

Aint it the truth? And, who couldn’t think of a Beatles insert right about now?

When I wrote in my Facing Facts post that I recognized that I needed an accountability partner – a writing nag, if you will – I turned to Carol. We are friends yes, we are writers, yes– and we are lucky. We have a writer friend who can help us if we’re facing a block – be it an attitude block or whatever. I think our greatest good fortune is that we are writer friends who will push each other and be honest.

I will not apologize for supporting my friends’ work when I feel that work deserves not only my support, but an audience. It would be a shame if Carol’s work didn’t find readers. I will do all I can to help as many readers as possible discover her work. And, when my book comes out, if Carol thinks it’s worthy of her support, I know she’ll do the same. But, if she shouldn’t find it worthy of her support, I also trust that she won’t. Because help is only help when it’s sincere.

As you think about your own writing and your writing network of friends, what do you think is your role in supporting them? How do you help? How do they help you?

 

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“Take It to the Limit”

April 10, 2012

“The world of reality has its limits; the world of imagination is boundless.”

Jean-Jacques Rousseau, French philosopher and writer, 1712-1778

Limits have been on my mind lately. Reality and its limits, specifically. We are born into families that give us our first limits. We learn who they are, who we are, that falling can hurt, that stove burners are hot. All these experiences help us learn about boundaries and limits. While still very young, we understand that our parents might have to reach for things for us, our grandparents might be pushovers for candy, our siblings might not give back a toy that we want. Slowly, but steadily, we learn about limits everywhere we go. Hopefully, as we grow, we learn values such as “work before play”, that help us set our own limits as adults.

My sons – now both in their early twenties – went through public school in the era of the self-esteem craze. It seemed one of them would come home a few times a week with a ribbon or a certificate or some kind of “Wow – You’re Wonderful” type of recognition. And I got increasingly sick of it. I wanted to ask when the “Wow- we like how you blow your nose” certificate would arrive. It took a lot of effort to try and instill humility and the realization that no matter how talented or smart they were, or thought they were, they weren’t actually any better than anyone else. I watched some students in that era of self-esteem overload get too impressed with themselves. I’m not saying self-esteem is bad. Self-esteem is wonderful and necessary for our mental health and for our ability to contribute to the world. But self-esteem overload can cross a limit – instead of healthy and motivating, it can lead to complacency, a sense of entitlement, and a little too much love for the great big “me.” In other words, as Don McLean sings below, the people with self-esteem overload can think “Everybody Loves Me, Baby..”

While limits are undeniably all around us, we learn, as adults, to balance between accepting limits and taking risks. Hopefully, whether we came through the self-esteem overload phase or not, we learned that we’re not always right and we need to work toward our dreams and goals. Our choices can open or close doors, and over time, we learn to recognize when our own volition is required. We realize in the face of a door-slam of fate, that sometimes we have to walk away and sometimes we try to charge on through. We learn what we can tolerate and what we can’t – another set of limits. A healthy understanding of our personal limits can lead to less frustration and more satisfaction over time.

The second half of Rousseau’s quote above, “…the world of imagination is boundless,” is true. But working writers must live in the real world, with its real limits. Mortgages, taxes, college tuition, health issues, crying babies – the demands on a writer’s time and mental energy can allow the door to slam on the world of imagination, if the writer doesn’t learn to set some new limits.

Have you set your limits? Do it. Whatever you can given your reality, your real limits. Carve out your time, whatever that is for you right now. Can you steal five minutes? That is your limit? Fine. Use it. Take it to the limit, whatever that limit is…. And, spend some time thinking about your limits and what they mean to your writing. Do your limits become excuses or do they motivate you to seize the time that you can? After you listen to The Eagles, if you choose to, I’d love to hear how you “Take it to the limit” in your writing.

Happy #writing!


Eagles-Take It to the Limit-Houston 1976 by hansonataint

 

 

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Roxane Gay – We Nominate You

April 7, 2012

“Change requires intent and effort. It really is that simple.” Roxane Gay

(If you find yourself unable to read to the end of this post due to time, please do bookmark and read Ms. Gay’s essay, Beyond The Measure of Men. Do NOT miss her essay.)

The web is buzzing again with the righteous indignation of women about the infuriating discrepancies in publishing of men vs women. We had the American Society of Magazine Editors report and, as Alexander Nazaryan reports, “No, seriously. Many are up in arms about the complete lack of female writers nominated for the major categories of Reporting, Feature Writing, Profile Writing, Essays/Criticism and Columns/Commentary.” No females nominated in any of the major categories, despite some fine writing in those categories. Quite fine. Excellent, in fact. Read Nazaryan’s report and be angry.

Last February, I wrote about the VIDA count and the gender disparity in publishing. This February, another VIDA count, another round of frustrating, but not surprising news. Another year of same song, same story, but most often coming from people with penises. Take a look at this graphic from the count.

My post about the count last year was titled, “What if Book Clubs only Selected Books by Women Authors? Now there’s an idea…” I was particularly troubled then by the disparity in publishing in literary journals, as I was striving to publish in the higher level journals:

“So, what’s a female writer to do? Give up. Hardly. And, if the woman writer happened to go to Mt. Holyoke College (where women rule) and Wesleyan University (diversity and tolerance above all else), and be a breast cancer survivor, surrender is never an option.

I will continue to write. I will continue to read. I will, however, push harder for my bookclubs to select books by female authors. Only female authors. And that feels wrong (remember, diversity and tolerance above?), but it’s something, right? That will be my tiny rebellion for the cause. And yours?”

Guess what? I didn’t fulfill my tiny rebellion. I didn’t even have the balls (ahem) to address it with my bookclubs. This time around, I will. And, I will read and support women authors with more intentionality. I don’t intend to never read male authors — why should they all pay for the assholiness of many?

But, this week also brought us the thoughtful, inspiring writing of Roxane Gay in Beyond the Measure of Men in The Rumpus. She plainly addresses the “here we go again” feeling I had when the buzz re-ignited this spring.

“The time for outrage over things we already know is over. The call and response of this debate has grown tightly choreographed and tedious. A woman dares to acknowledge the gender problem. Some people say, “Yes, you’re right,” but do nothing to change the status quo. Some people say, “I’m not part of the problem,” and offer up some tired example as to why this is all no big deal, why this is all being blown out of proportion. Some people offer up submission queue ratios and other excuses as if that absolves responsibility. Some people say, “Give me more proof,” or, “I want more numbers,” or, “Things are so much better,” or, “You are wrong.” Some people say, “Stop complaining.” Some people say, “Enough talking about the problem. Let’s talk about solutions.” Another woman dares to acknowledge this gender problem. Rinse. Repeat.”

She offers solutions to editors and publishers that are simple, stark and reasonable. Please, read her essay. Ponder it. Don’t miss her section on the label of “women’s fiction.” Then, let’s recruit Roxane Gay to be the Gloria Steinem of the Women’s Publishing Movement. She is brilliant. She is right. Follow her work.

“Change requires intent and effort. It really is that simple.” Roxane Gay

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Facing Facts on the Fifth – April

April 5, 2012

It’s April already — and in Wisconsin, spring has sprung much earlier than usual. My lilacs, which don’t typically bloom until mid-May, have buds. The greening of the world is something I love after the grays of winter, but this year, it’s spectacular — and way too early. It almost feels like the summer’s coming too fast! And, what will that mean for my writing goals? Do you ever worry too far ahead too?

Regular readers know that I made a resolution this year to touch base once a month, on the fifth, and check in with myself on my progress and my goals. (For prior fifth posts, check here.) It’s a good exercise, not always pleasant, sometimes surprising, and I highly recommend it for any distractable-types out there, like me.

My goals on March 5th read:

1) Novel – speak with friend who has offered to review about best timeline for her. Write something in it every day. Doctor’s appointments, tests, whatever, write at least a good sentence, but usually, many more than one. :-)

Pass or fail?  Instead of speaking to the friend mentioned above, I sent her a snail-mail letter. When I get a response, I’ll adjust my timeline. And, unfortunately, fail in terms of writing every day, but not in terms of progress. I had a couple of extended writing chunks (two on trains in France) that helped me finally get out of a chapter I’ve been struggling with and onto the next. So, good progress was made, as much as I could have? No, but better than previous month, yes. Better than baby steps? Yes. In other words, that’s a “fail” I can live with.

2) Encouraging and supporting other writers – twice a week entries here. Calendar two entries to Lyon Review and do them. As possible, incorporate entries with upcoming travels.

I only posted once a week here this past month and twice total in the Lyon Review. I did, however, post at the Lyon Review and on LinkedIn that I’m looking for Mount Holyoke College alumnae to guest post.

In other writing activities from 3/5 to today, I proofread a book for a friend and helped her set up a web page. I submitted pieces to a local radio show and a flash contest. Life activities were quite exciting during the past month, including nine days in France, that have led to several essays in progress. I heard back from the job I applied for and did not receive an interview. :-( I was waitlisted for the Breadloaf in Sicily program, which is great, considering they only take six people. But, I’m hoping one of the six will decide soon that they need that time this summer for their book tour, so they have to drop out, and then….. One can dream.

So, goals for April 5 to May 5?

1) Novel – Ask one of my writer friends to be an accountability partner. Check in with her once a week with progress report and receive any necessary nagging with humility. In afternoons, begin to update potential agents to contact list. Update folder of publicity possibilities.

2) Encouraging and supporting other writers – Seek more guest posts for this blog too. Be more intentional about sharing good posts that I read. Be better about maintaining list for future posts. Do some “housekeeping” at this blog: update blogroll, update reading list, update publication list.

3) Submitting – Set aside time each Sunday to explore what can and should be submitted or resubmitted, and, do it.

Ongoing projects and ongoing education aren’t going to receive specific goals this month either. Ongoing projects, like the France essays in progress, may migrate to the submitting category this month. I am still digesting the workshops from AWP and have much to read and think about from that — I suspect that will be plenty of ongoing writing education this month!

And — my writer peeps — whether you’re participating in Facing Facts on the Fifth or not, how would you do if you honestly evaluated your progress this past month? I hope it was a good one with a better one to follow.

Happy #writing!

 

 

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“If the words are alive….”

April 3, 2012

My life recently has been a seemingly endless string of Julia Cameron’s artist’s dates. It’s been a month since I climbed to the upper deck of the Megabus and traveled to Chicago for AWP. Though I live in Milwaukee, less than two hours by car, train or bus, from Chicago, I rarely get there. I was born directionally challenged with small-town girl blood still flowing in my veins. Milwaukee is a smaller, manageable city with a big-town friendliness and feel. It has become home, with occasional trips to fill my mountains, trees and oceans needs. Chicago scares me. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I love the energy and the pace of big cities, but I can only take them in small bites, or I feel overwhelmed and a bit claustrophobic. I need more sky than big cities offer. I’ve dreamt of living in Paris, but I suspect I’d be better off planning to live in Paris for a month, rather than forever.

Chicago, the small slice of it I saw as I scurried from workshop to workshop at AWP, did not disappoint. I can’t quite say the same for AWP. Don’t get me wrong. I learned a lot. I listened to some fabulous, and some not so fabulous, speakers. But the schedule, the pace, the format itself was grueling. There was no free time built into the schedule. Workshops went non-stop, so if you took a break (as I did and had to), you knew you were missing something.

Because I left for Paris not long after AWP, I had little time to review my notes and process my thoughts. In going through them yesterday, I was somewhat surprised by the event that continues to resonate most with me. It’s one I went to at the last minute, changing my mind from a different workshop I’d intended to go to. I went to a reading by writers for The Sun. And, the writer, the person who has continued to replay in my mind, is Sy Syfransky, founder and editor of The Sun. When he approached the lectern, he gave off a fading hippie vibe. Lanky, quiet, he seemed, like many writers I know, an introvert compelled to write and share with a world full of extroverts. He read from his notebooks, which he’s compiling into a book to put out this year. Some of my favorite quotes:

“…If the words are alive, they don’t have to show up wearing expensive ties or Italian suits.”

“…I edit until each paragraph has lost the ten pounds it gained over the winter.”

“The goddess of language laughs at me.”

“Why do I imagine that my sentences need to be better dressed than I am?”

Below is a clip I found from a different reading held during the AWP days. Sy is introduced just before the 15 minute mark, so his section is about a 7 minute watch/listen; though why you would skip Poe Ballantine and Cheryl Strayed is beyond me. Enjoy.

More belated AWP updates to come. And Paris too. If you made it to AWP, what stays with you?

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An Unopened Gift: Adrienne Rich’s Poetry

March 29, 2012

 

Photo: Gypsy P. Ray

Adrienne Rich died on Tuesday. I learned about this loss from friends’ Facebook posts. And, I was mortified by a lack in my own reading and education. With shame, I’ll admit, I had never read anything by Adrienne Rich. The New York Times headline read “A Poet of Unswerving Vision at the Forefront of Feminism,” and perhaps that explains this hole in  my reading. I was ambivalent about feminism while a student at Mount Holyoke College in the late ’70s. I couldn’t quite understand what all the hoopla was about. (Yes, I’m ashamed of this now, but the facts are the facts.) I didn’t “get it” that though I came from a long line of working women — my great-grandmother had worked in a button factory and then on the family farm, my maternal grandmother worked in a factory and my paternal grandmother was a nurse, my mother worked in our town administration offices. I didn’t understand that though these strong women in my background had worked, their options were quite limited. Their chances to advance were almost non-existent.

Somehow, I missed the poetry of Adrienne Rich. And, as we stand on the brink of National Poetry Month, I intend to fill this gap in my life. How will you mark National Poetry Month? Poets.org offers a poem-a-day that you can subscribe to receive by email.

Here’s a clip of Adrienne Rich reading her poem, “What Kind of Times are These?” which helped convince me that I MUST read this woman’s work. Her voice may be silent now, but her gift of words remains. I intend to open that gift. ‘Twould be a gift to me if you’d let me know how her work has touched you, if you’re already familiar with it.

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