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Showing posts from July, 2011

End of July

As my hand continues to heal at the pace of a snail swimming backwards through molasses on a humid day, I'm concentrating on non-typing things. One is a series of podcasts that I am creating for my creative writing courses (craft/inspirational stuff) and to share samples of my short stories. Here's my first go... 

Unfortunately, I can't figure out how to upload audio to Blogger yet, so in the meantime listen to "The Probability of Him" (from To Begin Again) here:

Also, check out brand new fiction in The Criterion: An International Journal in English.

back in action

Okay, so here I am blogging. But not in the traditional sense. Today is the first day that I've used voice recognition software, and so far it seems to be working pretty well. The fact of the matter is I don't have a choice. It's either rest my hand completely or risk permanent damage, so here I am dictating… and it feels damn strange.
I'd like to make a plea to all the writers out there—take care of your wrists and hands. Consider this: I didn't really start writing until I was 18. So even though I have written quite a few words during this time frame, I've really only been writing for 13 years. Yet, here I am with a serious repetitive strain injury (RSI). Given the fact that computers are currently being first used by toddlers as opposed to teenagers (as was the case on I was younger), I wouldn't be surprised if everyone suffers from some sort of computer related RSI injury in the future.
One of the most valuable things I've learned from getting tendi…

Broad Strokes / The Poetry of Place

When I think of my hometown, I see the small cow pastures that I would drive by on my way to work, that signaled the edge of OSU’s agricultural school on Kenny Road. It was one of the first roads I ever drove, long and straight, leading from Grandview to Upper Arlington. It was the way to my mother’s apartment, the way to avoid 315. It was the way to Half-Price Books and Caribou, where I first felt the privilege of being a college student with my very own laptop and homework to do. It was the road to the apartment I would share with my husband before he became my husband, when we owned a small blue parakeet—the muse for my first published essay.

The benefit of silence. The mountains were so beautiful that it seemed ridiculous I could awaken to them every morning. The drastic differences, American lifestyles that could sell the dream. Vermont is where I found myself overstimulated as an MFA student, where I studied literature and writing for two years. Here were people who …


Ha! I don't know if I'm getting better at writing with my left hand; it looks as though I've plateaued, but the good news is that I've been doing some stretches and exercises that seem to be helping along my recovery. Hopefully I'll be back in full swing before August. (It's officially a bad case of tendinitis.)
Writing News:
To Begin Again is now available on NOOK:
"The Code" (a story I've been reworking for some time) was picked up, and it won the Global Short Story Competition for May. Read it here:
Thanks for hanging in there with me! I'm still writing, just v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y.