I'm on page 154 of 307. I put my memoir aside for most of the summer and now I am going through it one more time, hoping that a few months of distance will make it easier to find false notes and weird word choices.
I'm surprised at how quickly it's going and also at how relatively.... well, fun, it is to do this review work. I'm reading aloud, which is the only way I can find particularly bad sentences. It's been over 90 degrees for the last week and I sit in a room with the shades down, where there is no computer, no phone, as little to keep me from my task as possible. I'm doing about 50 pages a day. If I push to go for any more than that I get even more tired of being with myself than I normally am.
Of course, my constant companions are thoughts about why I decided to do this in the first place, who on earth would want to read any of this, whether it's possible to include even more cliched phrases to describe what I was feeling....
I'm told many people feel like this at this stage of a project so I'll just keep on going. I don't know what else to do.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Channeling My Father's Youth
I'm busily at work revising my memoir and I'm pleased with how things are going so far. I'm ready to take a stern look at some things I assumed needed to be a certain way from the very beginning and yesterday I completely rearranged the first chapter. A liberating feeling.
Then I needed a break. So I created a playlist.
Today I will be editing my description of my father's childhood and early music career. My father was born in 1912 and in his teens, in the roaring twenties, he was a guitarist in New York and earned extra money by selling silk stockings to Broadway chorus girls (I'm sure his mother was thrilled). I grew us listening to music from this period and thinking nothing of having Louis Armstrong playing all the time.
I spent a half hour combing through my music and now I have a 14 hour playlist of 1920's jazz. In addition to Louis Armstrong, I have George Gershwin, Duke Ellington, Bix Beiderbecke, Paul Whiteman, Fletcher Henderson, and Count Basie. It's such fun to listen to this stuff.
And I have eliminated today's excuse to step away from my chair. Or at least I think so.
Then I needed a break. So I created a playlist.
Today I will be editing my description of my father's childhood and early music career. My father was born in 1912 and in his teens, in the roaring twenties, he was a guitarist in New York and earned extra money by selling silk stockings to Broadway chorus girls (I'm sure his mother was thrilled). I grew us listening to music from this period and thinking nothing of having Louis Armstrong playing all the time.
I spent a half hour combing through my music and now I have a 14 hour playlist of 1920's jazz. In addition to Louis Armstrong, I have George Gershwin, Duke Ellington, Bix Beiderbecke, Paul Whiteman, Fletcher Henderson, and Count Basie. It's such fun to listen to this stuff.
And I have eliminated today's excuse to step away from my chair. Or at least I think so.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Coffee Karma
The others in my family eschew coins. They shed change into a little wicker basket next to my computer as if they can’t wait to have it leave their pockets. One of my sons hoards quarters and then gladly exchanges them for a twenty dollar bill.
I treasure every coin. I pull out some quarters to leave in an envelope in my glove compartment for parking meters. But I always carry a lot of coins in my purse. This is my tea money. $1.95 – the cost of a grande tea at Starbucks with two Awake tea bags – a standard order for me. At Peets it’s $1.75 for Assam Tips – better yet. I derive deep and inexplicable satisfaction if I can buy my cup of tea with coins.
But when it comes to my single favorite beverage to have out of the house (as you know) – a double cappuccino for here (emphasis placed in hopes of getting a ceramic cup instead of paper) – I must pay with paper money and I must, must, must leave a tip.
I think it’s bad luck to take change at a coffee place. You must leave what’s handed back to you in the little plastic square that is meant for tips.
It’s best if the drink’s price ends in “.50” – then the 50 cents in change is perfect. If the price is a little higher, leaving an awkward 40 or even 20 cents in change, it’s hard to know what to do. 40 cents might be OK to leave but 25 cents or less is bad – inviting bad energy to follow me the rest of the day. I need to fish out a dollar bill to leave if I’m left with an insufficient handful of coins.
And then I can linger over my coffee and face the rest of my day unafraid.
I treasure every coin. I pull out some quarters to leave in an envelope in my glove compartment for parking meters. But I always carry a lot of coins in my purse. This is my tea money. $1.95 – the cost of a grande tea at Starbucks with two Awake tea bags – a standard order for me. At Peets it’s $1.75 for Assam Tips – better yet. I derive deep and inexplicable satisfaction if I can buy my cup of tea with coins.
But when it comes to my single favorite beverage to have out of the house (as you know) – a double cappuccino for here (emphasis placed in hopes of getting a ceramic cup instead of paper) – I must pay with paper money and I must, must, must leave a tip.
I think it’s bad luck to take change at a coffee place. You must leave what’s handed back to you in the little plastic square that is meant for tips.
It’s best if the drink’s price ends in “.50” – then the 50 cents in change is perfect. If the price is a little higher, leaving an awkward 40 or even 20 cents in change, it’s hard to know what to do. 40 cents might be OK to leave but 25 cents or less is bad – inviting bad energy to follow me the rest of the day. I need to fish out a dollar bill to leave if I’m left with an insufficient handful of coins.
And then I can linger over my coffee and face the rest of my day unafraid.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Kinko's
I just picked up my 308 page manuscript from FedEx Kinko's. I love their print on demand service. I sent an email with the file to my local store at 6 last night and it was ready to pick up before closing time last night. It's like I still work in an enormous law firm where there is someone in a room full of big, white machines whose job it is to make my work product look good. And cheaper than putting such unreasonable demand on my little home HP printer. Those print cartridges are more than $100 a piece and I feel angry everytime I need to buy one.
My manuscript looks so real when it is nestled inside the brown cardboard box with my name on top.
I also reviewed my computer back up procedures last night. I met a woman in Napa Valley who had lost a manuscript of a novel despite what sounded like fairly rigorous back-up habits. So I not only copied the draft onto a removable drive, I emailed it to my own Google account, and I split it into a few chunks and saved them all as Google documents. Everyone in my family knows that in the event of a fire, they should please, please, please, put my laptop in the car right after they put the cats in their carriers (good luck!). But I get comfort in knowing there are copies of my big drafts of projects that exist somewhere on a server in Mountain View that I can hopefully get access to no matter what electronic or actual disaster comes my way.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Getting Down to Business
August 15. Exact middle of the month.
So we know what that means. Time to sit down with "Standing Room," gather all of the comments and suggestions I've received over the last few months and do another big edit. And then see what's next.
I pulled out my big spreadsheet of agents that I put together in May. I went to Office Depot and bought a package of big envelopes and mailing labels (and some of those little neon bright Post-It flags that are my new favorite writing-oriented office supply).
I'm trying to figure out how to do this. I know myself well enough to know I can make this yet another time table project. I will divide my 300 pages by the number of days I have available and march through it -- eliminating misspelled and poorly chosen words. I will become an expert of agents' submission guidelines.
But how can I be sure I will try to see into the soul of my project? To see what really is missing and what needs to be fixed? I don't know. I feel I have some emotional distance, which I think is good. I think all I can do is hope for the best and clear off the dining room table to spread my papers everywhere.
So we know what that means. Time to sit down with "Standing Room," gather all of the comments and suggestions I've received over the last few months and do another big edit. And then see what's next.
I pulled out my big spreadsheet of agents that I put together in May. I went to Office Depot and bought a package of big envelopes and mailing labels (and some of those little neon bright Post-It flags that are my new favorite writing-oriented office supply).
I'm trying to figure out how to do this. I know myself well enough to know I can make this yet another time table project. I will divide my 300 pages by the number of days I have available and march through it -- eliminating misspelled and poorly chosen words. I will become an expert of agents' submission guidelines.
But how can I be sure I will try to see into the soul of my project? To see what really is missing and what needs to be fixed? I don't know. I feel I have some emotional distance, which I think is good. I think all I can do is hope for the best and clear off the dining room table to spread my papers everywhere.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Faith in the Future
I just finished reading submissions to a writing contest for high school students. I am on the panel of judges and we met to go over our choices and comments today. It was so exciting to read the stories. Overall, the writing was inventive, lively and with a strong sense of narrative -- so much better than anything I was writing at that age.
It was also great fun to discuss the submissions with the group of judges. Everyone had read the works quite closely and we had a lengthy and involved discussion about the relative strengths and weaknesses of various stories. I think we were all relieved to see such a good level of writing from teenagers. I'm tired of reading articles about the death of the book and of our attention span. Let's give our youth (and J.K. Rowling) the credit they deserve.
It was also great fun to discuss the submissions with the group of judges. Everyone had read the works quite closely and we had a lengthy and involved discussion about the relative strengths and weaknesses of various stories. I think we were all relieved to see such a good level of writing from teenagers. I'm tired of reading articles about the death of the book and of our attention span. Let's give our youth (and J.K. Rowling) the credit they deserve.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
More Finds at Newport Beach Library
It's the big "buck a bag" sale at the Newport Beach Public Library again. I walked away with three bulging bags. As last time, I found some nice little treasures. It seems that these sales are particularly good for hard cover biographies of people in the arts -- I have memoirs or biographies of Bob Fosse, Anne Sexton, Katherine Mansfield, John Mortimer, and Beethoven and a lovely little volume of "Famous French Stories" published in 1945.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Relieved
This is the best re-entry I've had to normal life after a vacation or writing retreat. I arrived home last Saturday and by Wednesday I was back in my chair with enthusiasm. In the middle of the workshop last week I remembered a short story idea I'd played around with in the spring and didn't know what to do with. All of a sudden I had an incredible hunger to get in there and play with the characters. I felt great energy to see what they would get up to if I gave them some air. And better yet, the subject matter gave me an excuse to play around on YouTube yesterday in the name of research.
Of course, I went to the workshop in order to get inspired to keep going on a novel I've been playing around with for over a year. I didn't anticipate coming home burning to write a short story.
But if the muse (sounds grandiose, I know) is sitting staring you in the face, it's foolish to turn away.
Of course, I went to the workshop in order to get inspired to keep going on a novel I've been playing around with for over a year. I didn't anticipate coming home burning to write a short story.
But if the muse (sounds grandiose, I know) is sitting staring you in the face, it's foolish to turn away.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Back From Napa Valley
I returned home from the Napa Valley Writers Conference a few days ago. Six days of wallowing in words and wine in St. Helena. What a treat.
The conference is held at the tiny "north" satellite campus of Napa Valley College. There are about 100 participants, divided between poetry and fiction. There are eight workshops, each with 12 participants. I was in Antonya Nelson's group.
One of the reasons I was so excited to attend this conference was because I had read and admired the work of three of the fiction faculty before I'd even thought of applying. Nelson's short story collections are among my favorites and this spring I gave several friends copies of her most recent collection, "Nothing Right." A few years ago I stayed up most of one night to finish ZZ Packer's "Drinking Coffee Elsewhere." And last year I greated enjoyed Peter Ho Davies' "The Welsh Girl."
On arrival at the conference on Sunday afternoon we had an orientation, then split into our groups to get organized for the week. We each had submitted up to 25 pages about a month in advance and had received the pages of our fellow workshop participants about two weeks before arrival. It was fun to finally meet the people whose work I'd been digesting over the past weeks.
The daily schedule was:
8:00 a.m. -- breakfast (wonderful healthy food for all meals provided)
9:00 a.m. -- poetry lecture
10:15 -- workshop (we did 2 - 3 pieces a day)
12:30 -- lunch
1:30 -- fiction lecture
7:30 -- wine reception (at different locations -- the school, the Rubicon Estate, the Napa Opera House, the Mondavi vineyard)
8:00 -- faculty readings
I learned so much. Antonya Nelson is so smart and insightful and in the little time she'd had to look at our work, she was able to give each of us directed analysis, finding themes, asking tough questions, and giving us a much better sense of how you go from a decent first draft to something you want to show the world. I have a much better sense of the work I need to do now and how to better structure my time. This was the perfect next step for me, moving from straightforward discussions of setting and voice to much more rigorous analysis of craft issues, more reminiscent of a college lecture hall. It was invigorating and terrifying at the same time.
The people in my workshop dug in and showed serious and deep familiarity with the work of their classmates. There were many people who have been at the conference before and I can see how it can become addictive. The man who owned the B&B where I stayed told me he would try to get me a room with a balcony next year so I can get a better view!
The conference is held at the tiny "north" satellite campus of Napa Valley College. There are about 100 participants, divided between poetry and fiction. There are eight workshops, each with 12 participants. I was in Antonya Nelson's group.
One of the reasons I was so excited to attend this conference was because I had read and admired the work of three of the fiction faculty before I'd even thought of applying. Nelson's short story collections are among my favorites and this spring I gave several friends copies of her most recent collection, "Nothing Right." A few years ago I stayed up most of one night to finish ZZ Packer's "Drinking Coffee Elsewhere." And last year I greated enjoyed Peter Ho Davies' "The Welsh Girl."
On arrival at the conference on Sunday afternoon we had an orientation, then split into our groups to get organized for the week. We each had submitted up to 25 pages about a month in advance and had received the pages of our fellow workshop participants about two weeks before arrival. It was fun to finally meet the people whose work I'd been digesting over the past weeks.
The daily schedule was:
8:00 a.m. -- breakfast (wonderful healthy food for all meals provided)
9:00 a.m. -- poetry lecture
10:15 -- workshop (we did 2 - 3 pieces a day)
12:30 -- lunch
1:30 -- fiction lecture
7:30 -- wine reception (at different locations -- the school, the Rubicon Estate, the Napa Opera House, the Mondavi vineyard)
8:00 -- faculty readings
I learned so much. Antonya Nelson is so smart and insightful and in the little time she'd had to look at our work, she was able to give each of us directed analysis, finding themes, asking tough questions, and giving us a much better sense of how you go from a decent first draft to something you want to show the world. I have a much better sense of the work I need to do now and how to better structure my time. This was the perfect next step for me, moving from straightforward discussions of setting and voice to much more rigorous analysis of craft issues, more reminiscent of a college lecture hall. It was invigorating and terrifying at the same time.
The people in my workshop dug in and showed serious and deep familiarity with the work of their classmates. There were many people who have been at the conference before and I can see how it can become addictive. The man who owned the B&B where I stayed told me he would try to get me a room with a balcony next year so I can get a better view!
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