Archive for the 'Behind The Blog' Category

“WHAT IS YOUR PROCESS”

Justin: do you see what it’s about at all?

this is why i say oughta maybe preface it

Amelia: what the whole thing is about? no

is it about the trail of tears

Justin: some people think that the keeping of dogs was the first step on the road to modern civilization

Amelia: is it about the industrial revolution

ohhhhhhhhh

heh

sorry man this is not about dogs at all

Justin: i totally know that

but it also is about dogs only

Amelia: nah

Justin: i know i know

what is it about tell me

i can’t know cos to me it is about dogs

Amelia: I told you it’s about the industrial revolution or the model-t or sex or time or the trail of tears

I think it’s mostly about the trail of tears though

Justin: that is awesome

Amelia: no man

Lanks

Check out a Singapore subway map mingling with an early draft of a new story from a page in my journal, up with the collection at Di Mezzo Il Mare. Also up is a page from my friend Mark Barr’s journal, with a cool excerpt, quote, and what looks like an excellent recipe for yam salad.

Also, “Babies” gets a nice personal touch at Short Story Reader. I feel like the Short Story Reader should be a mini-column somewhere, online or off.

A pair of people will always act as opposing forces, one pushing and the other pulling. The key is figuring out at which frequency you most like to be pushed or pulled. We’re all harp strings with the freedom of choice. Well anyway later.

Shipdream

I had a dream that I found a bullet on the ground and brought it to the police, and everyone was mad that I had picked it up. It was a spent slug. Then I dreamed I was in Singapore, but Singapore was simultaneously a pirate ship and a pirate-ship-themed restaurant, and I kept walking up flights of stairs and moving past higher and higher levels of diners until I reached the crow’s nest, which was also a small table. It had the best view of the water and the people shooting at each other on the deck.

I bet ghost cats like Vermin too

Will you be in Denver on April 8th? You should come to this reading. Whether or not you come, you should see this excellent poster by Goodloe Byron:

click for large marge

Elisa Gabbert wrote about my last post in terms of online marketing, Web analytics, and using questions in search queries to generate leads. These are things I must think about when I’m doing my day job and it was cool to learn more about it. High fives, Gabbert.

On Thursday night I broke a deadlift record at the gym—a pitiful 115lbs, due to the fact that I hate deadlift plus the fact I am a whiny baby—and I am still paying for it in terms of overall soreness. Deadlifts get your back, arms, legs, stomach. It makes me want to float in the Gulf of Mexico for three days straight. Alas! It is Winter.

A strange thing just happened: First, the neighbor cat meowed at its door downstairs, which I heard clearly from the open window. Directly after, one of my cats attacked the closed door to my room. This gave the impression that a ghost cat had transmuted through my home and was simultaneously present. It’s hard to express how unsettling that was. It made my heart beat up in my inner ear. I’m giving up on reasonable thought for the night.

Stars day

Aaron Burch and I have stories up at Knee-Jerk. There is some language in my story! If you are my mother, you might be interested in reading this article I wrote for work instead. Today’s a day to put on Pandora and bustle around. I believe I’ll make some French Onion soup tonight.

no sleep night

Everything in my house is in a pile and cleaning only serves to shuffle the pile around and hide it. The pile remains in some subversive form.

You know, between blogs and the Twitbook and the Facespace we have to internalize this brand-conscious do-it-yourself public relations or else we either ruin relationships or go nuts. Everything we say has the power to further alienate us from one another.

The people who are agreeable to most are the ones with the strongest consciousness of their own brand. Person-as-brand has been around since the printing press at least but social media turns the concept into an obsessive stranglehold. If you’re important enough, you hire a brand manager to take care of the far reaches of your brand; corners of childhood you’ve forgotten about, loose ends overseas. The rest of us do the work ourselves. I’m not sure that pretending this isn’t happening is a great idea.

“Agreeable to most,” I know I know.

The best response to my all my worries comes from two old men holding signs on a front porch in Temple, Texas: one sign reads DUH, and the other, CHILL OUT ALREADY. Thanks guys.

Shifting piles.

Tofurky looks like Combos

Combos looks like Snausages. Everything is eventually meat. My story “Waste” in Annalemma 5 is “basically about” how pigs turn into pork. Someone give me a grant and I’ll present a lecture on this to a major research institution while sipping from a tureen of gravy.

I’ve got meat on the mind. I bought a sixteen pound turkey and sunflowers. I am brining the turkey tonight and roasting it tomorrow. I was thinking about buying one of those grain-fed, air-chilled turkeys that is raised by a farmer with a kindly face who gives them a minimum of three compliments a day, but then I remembered that I didn’t want to spend eighty bucks and I bought the other kind instead: an Honest turkey for Honest times.

Yesterday I sold my old dining room table and all my old chairs to a plumber named Bubba. My new table is currently at a secure holding facility, preparing to serve eight. For one week I was the owner of two tables and ten chairs. I could have hosted a very small state dinner if that dinner was presented in two locations.

Behind The Blog: A couple weeks ago I was blogging and I wrote “neurosis is boring” and then I deleted that and stared at the blank part of the page for about ten minutes. That was the blog about Tobias Wolff selling oatmeal.

Yesterday Jac Jemc texted the words  “ham face” to me and I felt real tender.

I read A Jello Horse a few evenings ago before dinner. I had just finished another book which had ended up being far too detailed in the real for my taste, and the jello horse was a refreshing digestif. I wanted the strange things to happen for 600 pages.

I’m going to Taco Bell. Well anyway later.

On keeping quiet.

I am a nervous person. I can admit this. I check at night to make sure I’ve locked the front door. I sometimes say “I have unplugged the curling iron” after I have unplugged it, so I don’t leave the house and worry about it for the rest of the day.

I am a nervous person

I really think I left it plugged in

I have a few superstitions. I turn over pennies when I see them heads-up. I throw salt behind my back. And I rarely talk about what I’m writing while I’m in the middle of it.

Of course, that’s only part superstition. Louis Sachar, the much-beloved author of the much-beloved Sideways Stories From Wayside School, never talks about his work either. He’s even more serious about it than I am. I heard an interviewer once try to tease the plot of Holes out of him but he stood firm. Here’s what he told Something About the Author:

…by working on a book for a year without talking about it–even to my wife–the story keeps building inside, until it’s bursting to be told and the words come pouring out when I sit down to write.

There’s something to that pressure cooker he describes. I always want to show people what I’m writing if I think I’m in the middle of something good, and sometimes little paragraphs or snippets do get forwarded or mentioned in emails or conversation. I wonder if keeping it all to myself is worth missing the little notes of encouragement that can turn a short project into a longer one.

These thoughts go against the blog culture a little. I’ve tried to talk about new work before, but the more long-term a project is for me, the less likely I want to say anything about it. On the other hand, I really like hearing writer friends talk about their new work, and things they’re cogitating. It inspires and pushes me, and reminds me that everyone is walking on their different roads every day. I like it when people talk shop in general, though I get a little sick of myself when I try to talk large about What We Should Be Writing And/Or Thinking About. I’d rather complain about the price of lox in Central Texas.

I would like to strike some kind of balance. I want to spark and participate in conversations about writing that have a significance to my own work, but I don’t want to get so close to the work that it starts to feel the heat of the torch I’m carrying.

I think that anyone who’s worried about their blogging is wasting their time. Next question? (JCO via CL)

Didn’t know this: Louis Sachar lives in my town and visits the local bridge club three or four times a week. Funny little world!




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