tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742723430831751682024-02-07T21:28:00.027-06:00Literary ExhibitionismLists and links and interviewsJen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.comBlogger335125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-79669965705825068302021-10-26T09:48:00.003-05:002021-10-26T09:49:48.301-05:00Chapbook release<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Dandelion-Ghosts-stories-Jen-Knox/dp/1737519402/ref=asc_df_1737519402/?tag=hyprod-20&linkCode=df0&hvadid=544422612364&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=4067649198188821981&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9014904&hvtargid=pla-1433494991929&psc=1" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="326" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggQ3z1G4dnAgTh6a4gKIySROhitIOKkuM5iNGv37mKqQKkF8TLxG9EXaIh_5lhWWIyKstAGloaIerUch57cN2cPnJUhhhQlhB3u4I-SOe1XdFOhTskx_rHLuj7TkCwkSY3r-NXCqvShQC5/s320/41eG%252BcrvMuL.jpg" width="209" /></a></div><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 14px;"><br />"As our children walked in circles, their children shook their heads and made their way toward another life; new ghosts remained. And we began to band together to move beyond brick and basement, stone and soy, to create new riddles for all the children, as they rushed and argued, created and destroyed, and ultimately found out how little they knew." (from Dandelion Ghosts, the namesake)</span><p></p><p><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #262626; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />"To move with the currency of life is to forget to stay still. At thirty-nine, Lee summoned the lions." (from Lions)<br /><br />"Money was born at the backs of her knees. As a young girl she stumbled, and the coins piled up beneath her heels. It was a neat trick that caused her parents to sing the girl’s praises before making their demands and, ultimately, trying to rip from her what they couldn’t see. When the coins were all used up, they disappeared." (from Popliteal Fossa)<br /></span></p><p><span face="-apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #262626; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><b>Read more <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Dandelion-Ghosts-stories-Jen-Knox/dp/1737519402/ref=asc_df_1737519402/?tag=hyprod-20&linkCode=df0&hvadid=544422612364&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=4067649198188821981&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9014904&hvtargid=pla-1433494991929&psc=1" target="_blank">here</a>. </b></span></p><br />Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-13528073677009695382021-07-15T07:09:00.003-05:002021-07-15T07:09:37.778-05:00Flash Fiction<p> </p><h1 class="entry-title" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #333333; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 30px; font-weight: 400; line-height: 1.2; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://flashfictionmagazine.com/blog/2021/06/17/popliteal-fossa/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Popliteal Fossa</a></h1><div style="text-align: center;">@ FLASH FICTION MAGAZINE</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">by <a href="https://www.jenknox.com/" target="_blank">JEN KNOX</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; color: #333333; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 30px; padding: 0px; text-align: start;">Money was born at the backs of her knees. As a young girl she stumbled, and the coins piled up beneath her heels. It was a neat trick that caused her parents to sing the girl’s praises before making their demands and, ultimately, trying to rip from her what they couldn’t see. When the coins were all used up, they disappeared.</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: inherit; font-family: Lato, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px 0px 30px; padding: 0px; text-align: start;"><i><a href="https://flashfictionmagazine.com/blog/2021/06/17/popliteal-fossa/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">As an older child...</a></i></p></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo_aHVsFVxhpotKO6xgnJUVSQFsSRmsUVaXpMtBh4UDG91jtcEH1FyZe1SzmgMtDtgqH0yPOUn2x7P7_CEs_MUfVNqPmFwpgWmeutsmGHR1Es8meexP7wqgntp5oOf5_EIxsw2CRng-BkC/s1440/jenknox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Jen Knox" border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo_aHVsFVxhpotKO6xgnJUVSQFsSRmsUVaXpMtBh4UDG91jtcEH1FyZe1SzmgMtDtgqH0yPOUn2x7P7_CEs_MUfVNqPmFwpgWmeutsmGHR1Es8meexP7wqgntp5oOf5_EIxsw2CRng-BkC/w320-h320/jenknox.jpg" title="Fiction author" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-43732731006791791862021-01-28T06:09:00.002-06:002021-01-28T06:09:06.281-06:00Dandelion Ghosts<p>"We were born into curiosity and raised with a light touch.
We ran around trees and chased ice cream trucks down the street or stared at
the world through cameras and recorded what we saw in bound journals. The
crumbling concrete alongside our homes led to narrow alleyways that promised
adulthood. We congregated on the summer solstice, the longest day of the year,
and marched past the plump blackberry vines and fields of dandelions. Stopping
to taste the fruit or flick the heads of flowers into the alley, we enjoyed the
last bit of childhood beneath a blue sky. Dirty..."</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Read More Here:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><a href="https://flashfictionmagazine.com/blog/2021/01/27/dandelion-ghosts/?utm_source=email&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=website-share-buttons">https://flashfictionmagazine.com/blog/2021/01/27/dandelion-ghosts/?utm_source=email&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=website-share-buttons</a><o:p></o:p></p>Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-39610870032878868922019-09-27T04:41:00.000-05:002019-09-27T10:41:39.804-05:00New site, late goodbyeHello, Friends!<br />
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Observation: I am not actively blogging here anymore, but I never said goodbye.<br />
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I have never been great at goodbyes. But I'm not trying to duck out of the party while everyone blows out the candles. In fact, I never said goodbye because I never intended to stop blogging.<br />
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Meanwhile, my novel-in-stories, new day job, new (old) city, and new obsession with yoga + meditation kept me busy enough to keep me far, far away from this fading blogging site.<br />
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That said, I'm back in action! Got my routines, got some new perspective, finished the book ... and if you'd like to keep up with me, please find my new blog here: <a href="https://www.jenknox.com/blog">https://www.jenknox.com/blog</a><br />
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Keep up with me. :)<br />
<br />
xo Jen<br />
<br />
Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-37523262316644216572018-11-26T14:30:00.000-06:002018-11-26T14:30:05.340-06:00Observations: November 2018<div class="MsoNormal">
Happy Holidays, Friends! <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtlvEaJMJdFgA4C7X1vV8AJN6f_WSZL8a6YGgxpSPE0Oj4n8FerS-7vLAniSrWDCsoUTKDOdZ2YEDZJrL8P6xtOt4d03wR4PxxlVKMaSiCx2zvdkPLRXVP7ZAIReKAQt_pl7aVsTBDp3ZI/s1600/IMG_20180815_165527_646.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="942" data-original-width="942" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtlvEaJMJdFgA4C7X1vV8AJN6f_WSZL8a6YGgxpSPE0Oj4n8FerS-7vLAniSrWDCsoUTKDOdZ2YEDZJrL8P6xtOt4d03wR4PxxlVKMaSiCx2zvdkPLRXVP7ZAIReKAQt_pl7aVsTBDp3ZI/s200/IMG_20180815_165527_646.jpg" width="200" /></a>Where have I <a href="http://jenknox.com/" target="_blank">been</a>? Um. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The short answer is Ohio, Pittsburgh, West Virginia, Massachusetts,
New York, writing a novel-in-stories, completing my Yoga Teacher Training, reworking
my business, teaching leadership at OSU, writing short articles on leadership
and alternative health, attending family events, and wishing I had more time to
do more of all of it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Time is of the essence, and I am realizing right now, as I
write this, that I miss blogging. I miss connecting with those of you I know
and those of you who happen here and read this for a few minutes instead of
clicking on that latest story about the comb-over fascist, our melting planet, the new "hot" personal
robot, autonomous car fatalities, or cool tricks you can teach a pet raccoon. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The last year has been elucidating in many (sometimes
painful) ways. I put my writing ambitions in perspective, realizing that I am
not a writer, but a person who explores the world through writing. This has enabled me to be patient as I accept my personal writing journey.</div>
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Sounds defeatist
to some writers, I know, but the fact is, it’s quite the opposite. Saying “I’m
a writer” is all fine and good, affirming and all that, but it’s not what’s
important. I was getting addicted to the title and subsequent baggage and
forgetting the value of the art itself. This realization led to a new energy
around my writing, and though my writing time has been limited, it’s been incredibly
rewarding. More so than it has been in ten years. <o:p></o:p></div>
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What else, what else…<o:p></o:p></div>
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Well, I’ve adopted a daily yoga practice that morphed into a
yoga teacher training experience (that I had no time for) that is morphing into
active yoga instruction. And this + writing = my evolution. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Thank you to <a href="https://jmwwblog.wordpress.com/2018/10/23/fiction-rideshare-by-jen-knox/">JMWW</a>
for posting my philosophical meanderings, Sivana East and Elephant Journal for publishing new
essays. Thank you to <a href="https://curiousfictions.com/authors/189-jen-knox">Curious
Fictions</a> for allowing me a small income from recent stories. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I now offer meditations and yoga for writers (and all) on a
modest and very homespun YouTube channel, and I have begun writing coaching
again with an emphasis on CREATING SPACE through art. I offer writing and yoga
workshops, along with my coaching practice, but I have refined the way I work,
so that I can offer a more customized and intense writing support system to
each client. I also decided that video conferences are helpful for online students,
so I am integrating video modules. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It’s rewarding work so far. It always was, but it feels
richer somehow. I love to see people learn to own their voices and release
expectations. In doing so, the payoff is pretty great. <span style="font-family: "wingdings"; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span> <o:p></o:p></div>
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I am looking forward to Portland in March to meet up with
writer friends new and old. I will be on the outskirts of things (off-site
events the whole way) because that’s how I roll. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Cheers for now.<o:p></o:p></div>
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xo Jen<o:p></o:p></div>
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Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-61605097475427480112018-04-22T17:30:00.000-05:002018-04-22T17:30:54.112-05:00Observations: Dublin Vacation<br />
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Dublin seemed the obvious destination. We would be close to
various restaurants and tourist attractions. It would be easy to call a cab or
rideshare, and stunning natural sights, such as the cliff walk from Bray to
Greystones, were close enough by to visit by bus.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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When I booked our trip to Ireland, it was almost a year in
advance, and the excitement around the idea was palpable. The trip kept my
husband and I going on twelve-hour days, during the coldest days of winter. If
the electricity went out or we got a flat tire, all we’d need to do was mention
Dublin, and the vibration in the room would heighten. Now in our late thirties,
this would be our first solo vacation. Unlike all previous trips, we were not
going to visit family for the holidays, nor did we have work-related activities
waiting on us. It was just us. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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I told everyone. Friends, family, and work associates were
either excited or feigning excitement for me. All I could talk about was how
refreshed I’d be when I returned. An incredible trip was non-negotiable. After
all, every minute becomes precious when the overworked are finally able to
breathe. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Off we went!<o:p></o:p></div>
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After a redeye and a half hour cab ride, my husband and I
were equal parts exhausted and elated. We arrived at 8 a.m. in need of a place
to lounge before our hotel room would be ready. That first day, we bummed
around in the neighborhood near Phoenix park, taking walks nearby with our
luggage stowed safely at the hotel. We talked about how crazy it was that we
had an entire week to ourselves as we reveled in our haze of gratitude, which
was augmented by a good island rain.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Then came the next morning. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The cappuccinos and breakfast and questions. Why did neither
of us feel settled? And why in the hell were we both still thinking about work?
It shouldn’t have taken so long to purge our to-do lists from our busy minds,
nor should either of us have done the inevitable … checked email. Not only was
the email checked, but it was continuously checked. In fact, our first full day
in Dublin was riddled with work-related anxiety that piqued in the middle of
our first nice dinner.<o:p></o:p></div>
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There is nothing to be done when the inevitable travel
argument arrives. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We both saw it coming on the headwind of jet lag,
strengthened by the persistent proximity that a small hotel room demanded. We
traded a few mean jokes after a our meal, which were received sourly and soon
became truly mean comments, then accusatory comments about whose comments carried
more acridity. <o:p></o:p></div>
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This is when it dawned on me that a true vacation could be
impossible. <o:p></o:p></div>
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There came a point when my husband and I, two tough-knuckled
Gen Xers, almost forty now, getting invitations to 20-year high school reunions,
needed to remind ourselves that we have opportunity to slow down, and if we
don’t take it, it could be quite some time before the opportunity returns.
Mindfulness, living in the moment—it’s all so trendy because it’s all so
necessary to offset the constant churning. But how to turn off the switch?<o:p></o:p></div>
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I meditate daily, so I can say with authority, it can take
more than meditation. Sometimes, it takes a bit of good, old fashioned, Gen Xer
grit—the same grit it takes to work so hard—to slow down. <o:p></o:p></div>
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On Day 3 of our vacation, my husband and I wandered the
streets of Dublin. We breathed in the rainy, overly green beauty; its unabashed
street art and poetry; its brightly painted doors that led to museum after
museum, pub after pub. To combat our busy minds, we agreed to shut down the
phones and walk until thoroughly and appropriately soaked. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We walked to the <a href="https://epicchq.com/" target="_blank">EPIC </a>museum (which stands for Every Person Is Connected), to the <a href="https://www.visitdublin.com/see-do/details/dublin-writers-museum#53.354366|-6.263985|13" target="_blank">Writers Museum</a>, and to
the National Museum of Ireland. We walked to shopping malls with slightly
better-cut clothes than those at home. We walked to cafes and used our phones
for little more than pictures. We soaked in the island moisture as well as its
pride; its widely-promoted and episodic history of oppression and uprisings,
captured so adroitly on a plaque on Parnell Street that displays a telling
message by Liam Mac Uistin that ends “O generations of freedom remember us, the
generations of the vision.” <o:p></o:p></div>
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The freedoms of all people are often taken for granted, even
squashed by our desire to achieve. Or another’s desire to achieve. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We worked long days for years to buy a home, to be able to travel;
we went into indentured servitude for a higher education that enabled us to
work through weekends in order to find these small bites of freedom in the form
of a few days doing little more than existing and consuming. Seeing Ireland, a
country home to ancestors on both sides of our family tree, was the prize. We
worked our adult lives for the freedom to read Uistin’s message and do a
proverbial face palm as we reflected. <o:p></o:p></div>
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After the grit-filled walk, our fast-paced purging of burdensome
thoughts, the trip truly began. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It began in the middle, and we came to see what was all around
us. After 21,000 steps, then 23,000, then 26,000, our heels screamed, but we
could see and feel it all. The fighting could be dodged after that purging, a
sleepless night could be embraced, and the hundreds and thousands of people we
walked with and past, those with whom we traded words and shared music in
restaurants and malls, could all be met with presence. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Even those people we merely read about in museums, who
couldn’t have imagined a reality in which voyages were taken so easily outside the mind, were points of connection. Those who would laugh at the idea of a small
electronic device that could reach out to family from across oceans and offer
us every comfort may have also been able to predict the burden of such immediate connectivity. </div>
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Our perceived inability
to disconnect is a self-inflicted oppression that seems heightened
during times of supposed reprieve. But this, like jet lag, can be eased with time. And so, after walking it off the way we Midwesterners are wont to do, we began to enjoy. If you go to Dublin, I recommend that you buy a good umbrella and walk. Dine at Chapter
One (there's an affordable pre-theare menu), walk quickly beyond Temple Bar (photo opp is enough), savor a <a href="https://www.nespresso.com/us/en/machinelistblock?nespresso_e_IQID:100597913-VQ16-c&gclid=Cj0KCQjw5fDWBRDaARIsAA5uWTiNaj1Des5S4VT2GWfBuxhFo0WinSh1MVlB6iWetR1vT5dnm_uX654aAsnWEALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds&dclid=CKzk-oH5zdoCFUirAQodhLIMSA" target="_blank">Nespresso </a>at the standing-only
coffee bar, enjoy the museums.</div>
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My husband and I spent our last days enjoying the food and sights thoroughly. We watched those outside moving with heads tilted down and smiled at the few who looked straight ahead or over to nod. </div>
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We are all going somewhere, but sometimes we need to pay attention to what is here, now. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Writing News: Fiction is forthcoming in Juked. A few essays at Elephant Journal. An excerpt from my novel-in-stories earned semifinalist status from the Book Pipeline Competition, so I hope to have news there soon. #stillwriting</i></div>
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<br />Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-6664261250708971362018-02-17T11:24:00.000-06:002018-02-17T11:25:58.229-06:00Observations: February 2018I spent a bit of January in San Francisco, San Jose, and Sunnyvale. The rest of the month was a blur of snow, work, family, and writing. In that order, unfortunately. Nonetheless, I learned and/or observed in January/early Feb:<br />
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<ul><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi8LraAaTMWHwmqMoOGNfSbn1dGlh1h4_fVVfSIQFwRBvhxXL19u7EX1O9l7pJvA69ZwW5i7fHaU9Ynl8UXrGkyXQ21WQEaC2xkPCs8PfQG9aHQSitClutsOB7_mEaiOJqyyOqJ9m05hI-/s1600/20180119_104435.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi8LraAaTMWHwmqMoOGNfSbn1dGlh1h4_fVVfSIQFwRBvhxXL19u7EX1O9l7pJvA69ZwW5i7fHaU9Ynl8UXrGkyXQ21WQEaC2xkPCs8PfQG9aHQSitClutsOB7_mEaiOJqyyOqJ9m05hI-/s320/20180119_104435.jpg" width="240" /></a>
<li>Silicon Valley is full of contradictions. And super nice bathrooms.</li>
<li>The value of visual art is at least 50% backstory.</li>
<li>You never know who you're talking to.</li>
<li>A needless sex scene can ruin an otherwise good move (cough ... The Shape of Water).</li>
<li>Irony is something people don't like pointed out, but it needs to be pointed out.</li>
<li>If people want rights to your image, it's not usually for a glamorous shot. :) </li>
<li>When partying with rich people, go for the second glass of wine. </li>
<li>Driving a van is easy, parking a van is - as feared - tough.</li>
<li>Writing is a gift, but it's a tough one to keep.</li>
<li>Nonprofits are going to have a tough go of it under this administration. As are people. I mean all people. </li>
<li>Yoga is my jam.</li>
</ul>
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<br />
<div>
<b>Writing news</b>: New work in <a href="https://thedisconnect.co/one/" target="_blank">The Disconnect</a> (as the name implies, you need to go in Airplane mode to read it). More new work in <a href="https://flexiblepersona.com/2018/01/29/regulars-by-jen-knox/" target="_blank">Flexible Persona</a>. This one won an award (2nd place ... I'll take it). </div>
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<br />Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-51626551410678753972018-01-11T17:00:00.000-06:002018-01-12T08:28:12.000-06:00Observations: January 2018<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibebCCaoI3dqq0EqVrNU9ROHxCcqpqYTw6StqCMp3oef1xSqLTlVLYpEOjMVsDI9TIAP5Ki4wqrZVLcxOK_2qhhDFx2GWba1OM8SxymCiDFiVMjclSXrIzOjdZ4cHSMQ4-E5MhA4kYvQeP/s1600/woman-tearing-hair-out1-e1345830943663.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="270" data-original-width="500" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibebCCaoI3dqq0EqVrNU9ROHxCcqpqYTw6StqCMp3oef1xSqLTlVLYpEOjMVsDI9TIAP5Ki4wqrZVLcxOK_2qhhDFx2GWba1OM8SxymCiDFiVMjclSXrIzOjdZ4cHSMQ4-E5MhA4kYvQeP/s320/woman-tearing-hair-out1-e1345830943663.jpg" width="320" /></a>Is anyone out there?<br />
<br />
Yes or no, I am back after a cross-country move, a mystery stomach virus, a new job, and the quiet release of a new collection of short stories. It's been a busy couple months, and I have the eye bags to prove it.<br />
<br />
It's 2018, and I have a few observations about the last few months, and the glorious/horrifying new year thus far. I thought I'd share...<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><b><i>Resolution</i></b> should not be a bad word, and <b><i>resolutions</i></b> should probably never include any diet-related goals. </li>
<li>Busy people are the most reliable solely because they have momentum.</li>
<li>Some fears are not evident until you are presented with a challenge. Case in point: I am thirty-eight, and I just realized I am afraid of parallel parking vans. </li>
<li>Writers don't have a choice.</li>
<li>It's easy to lose focus when self-consumed. </li>
<li>Mantras work, but they demand time. Same with meditation and any other mental training.</li>
<li>Health clinics in grocery stores are fine, but they need a separate entrance! Come on, people, don't make contagious sick people walk past registers, the produce section, and dry goods to get to the clinic. By that time, their airborne, germ-filled droplets have probably reached dozens.</li>
<li>#MeToo will only count if we continue the dialogue. This is not whining or lecturing. This is reality, and change is possible but only with conversation and consistency. </li>
<li>Business people and artists seem to want recognition in equal measure. Likewise acceptance, respect, recognition. Same deal, different package.</li>
<li>Leaders are not necessarily good people, but there is such a thing as a good or principled leader, and we should demand that one lead our country. </li>
<li>As much as we need to be entertained, not all entertainment serves us. (Just like as much as we need to eat, not all foods nourish us.)</li>
<li>Friendship is work, and it's the best work.</li>
</ul>
<br />
Writing News:<br />
<br />
<b><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Glass-City-Other-Stories/dp/0996777946/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1515691243&sr=1-1&keywords=the+glass+city+jen" target="_blank">The Glass City</a> is out! Buy a few ... you'll be glad you did.</b><br />
<b><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Best-Small-Fictions-2017/dp/0998966711" target="_blank">The Best Small Fictions</a> is out! </b><br />
Buy them both in multiples. Samples are here: <span style="background-color: white; font-family: , , "segoe ui" , "roboto" , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">http://www.americanpopularculture.com/review_americana/fall_2017/knox.htm</span>Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-65790501587207100172017-04-07T07:26:00.003-05:002017-04-07T11:57:30.265-05:00Observations: April, 2017 <div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="3lh0i-0-0">
<span data-offset-key="3lh0i-0-0"><span data-text="true">My father once told me he'd been a genius for a few days. For fewer than a hundred hours in his life, sometime in his early forties, everything made sense. All the pieces fit, and everything felt easy to him. In those days, art flowed (he's a visual artist), math was cake, the right word was always on the tip of his tongue. Answers came readily, and nothing felt overwhelming. The universal codes seemed to materialize everywhere. Then, he said, as fast as the feeling came, it disappeared. </span></span></div>
<div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="3lh0i-0-0">
<span data-offset-key="3lh0i-0-0"><span data-text="true"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="3lh0i-0-0">
<span data-offset-key="3lh0i-0-0"><span data-text="true">I like to believe those genius days hit us all, though they will sometimes be more dispersed - seconds or minutes spread out over a lifetime. I woke up this morning, after what I think was a brilliant dream, worrying that all of my genius time will be spent asleep. One can hope we all have a few minutes to come.</span></span></div>
<br />
Some observations from last month:<br />
<ul>
<li>Today's terrorized are tomorrow's terrorists. </li>
<li>If you trust that people can rise to the occasion, good or bad, they usually will.</li>
<li>Belief in one's self is easy for a day, but becomes tougher to maintain as time passes.</li>
<li>Writers need to constantly remind themselves to value their words and value their time.</li>
<li>As I get older, I know what I like and I know what I don't like (but sometimes I still realize I'm wrong).</li>
<li>Artists need to fight harder, write/create more. #resist</li>
<li>Buying a house now is like building on a cliff when the view is most beautiful, just before the rampart begins to crack below us. </li>
<li>College lectures make me happy. </li>
<li>Human connections are everything. </li>
<li>A society is only as fiscally healthy as its people are physically healthy.</li>
<li>I should probably start journaling during these dark times. I think we all should. </li>
</ul>
Writing News: "Lottery Days" was selected for inclusion in <a href="http://www.braddockavenuebooks.com/" target="_blank"><i>The Best Small Fictions 2017</i></a>, guest edited by Amy Hempel. It should be out in September, and I'm really thrilled to be a part. I'll post a link when available. Also, <i>The Glass City</i> is in the works and should be out from Hollywood Books International around the same time. I'll post the date soon. In the meantime, I got in a few blurbs. Here's one...<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;">"Jen Knox is a master cartographer of the human
psyche. In the stories of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Glass City</i>,
she maps the depths and complexity of the human mind against the backdrop of a
future so possible yet so surreal that it’s nearly futile to try to set the
book down. I kept telling myself, just one more page before bed, just one more
story—until I found myself turning the last page in the middle of the night,
having forgotten to eat dinner. Ultimately, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Glass City</i> is the miracle of artistic imagination at its absolute peak:
read casually, it thrills and entertains us with insightful depictions of who we
are; read deeply, it shows us who we can become." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: small;">—Melissa Studdard, author of </span><i><span style="font-size: small;">I Ate the Cosmos for Breakfast</span></i></span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
Prompt: Start a story or a piece of art with the line/idea "I never told anyone..." Write as long as you'd like. <br />
<br />
xo Jen</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-21452229488748733372017-03-05T08:08:00.000-06:002017-03-05T08:08:54.409-06:00Observations: March, 2017<div>
A few observations for March....</div>
<ul>
<li>Giving without thinking about personal gain ends up bringing personal gain.</li>
<li>I've meditated for over 60 days straight, and the only way this is possible in my life is to lock doors and/or wake up at 5 a.m.</li>
<li>I've meditated for over 60 days straight, and I'm just now over the angry-all-the-time stage.</li>
<li>Repetition, for all its simplicity, is probably the fastest way to brainwash large numbers of people.</li>
<li>People will only hear what they want to hear, until they see. </li>
<li>Distracting people is not difficult in the digital age. (This is what's happening while we're distracted by Twitter: https://www.congress.gov/)</li>
<li>Mobility is a blessing and a curse.</li>
<li>Magic is everywhere, but it can be condensed in story.</li>
<li>Transparency is both a blessing and a curse.</li>
<li>I cannot make myself enjoy drinking any beverage that contains bubbles.</li>
<li>Espresso, as a general rule, is far less potent than drip coffee.</li>
<li>If all adjuncts quit, the system would have to change (more of a speculation than observation).</li>
<li>Making space means creating opportunity.</li>
<li>Minds can change. </li>
</ul>
Also, a new story about coffee addiction, coffee pretension, and public speaking at <a href="http://www.saturdayeveningpost.com/2017/02/24/post-fiction/contemporary-fiction-art-entertainment/open-times.html" target="_blank">The Saturday Evening Post</a>, my favorite publication to work with. <br />
<br />
Prompt: Pick a pic and write for 20 minutes: http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/people-culture/<br />
<br />
xo Jen<br />
<br />Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-4580032072262385142017-02-14T21:17:00.002-06:002017-02-16T18:07:58.774-06:00Observations: February 2017I just got back in town from a trip to Ohio, where I visited family, then a trip to D.C., where I hung out with 12,000 writers at the AWP conference. I learned a few things.<br />
<ul>
<li>Saying goodbye is always hard.</li>
<li>Life will end, and might end soon, so live it up.</li>
<li>Shiny scrambled eggs will never fail to hurt my stomach (see: free continental breakfast).</li>
<li>Free scrambled eggs are tough to say no to (see: free continental breakfast).</li>
<li>Michael Bolton is rather funny. </li>
<li>Fiction does pay.</li>
<li>Sudoku can create the illusion that one is good at math. </li>
<li>Sleep is helpful when I want to be charismatic.</li>
<li>Sleep is helpful when I want to be coherent.</li>
<li>Airports are the only place I will read an entire magazine.</li>
<li>Daily controversies are exhausting.</li>
<li>There are a lot of writers in the world. </li>
<li>Writers are the best people in the world.</li>
<li>Lyft rocks.</li>
<li>D.C. is oddly enchanting. </li>
<li>History reminds us how much we forget.</li>
<li>Twitter behavior says a lot about a person. </li>
<li>Radical self-acceptance is great, but a healthy amount of self-critique propels growth.</li>
<li>The amount of talent in this world is staggering. </li>
<li>My neighbor's dog's howling coincides with ambulances (took me too long to figure out). </li>
</ul>
As a creativity prompt, consider a routine. Pick a place you find yourself often, make it the opening setting of a new story. Pick a routine, and try to incorporate that as well. As for your character, make him or her your opposite. If you're an extrovert, make this person an introvert. If you're cheery, make this person a curmudgeon. You get the idea. <br />
<br />
Till next month, folks...<br />
<br />
xo Jen<br />
<br />
PS - I updated my site. If you check it out, let me know if it takes a while to load. I'm struggling with it. http://www.jenknox.com/Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-60405288963564849162017-01-23T06:54:00.003-06:002017-01-23T07:21:57.567-06:00Short interview with Agnes Marton<span style="font-family: inherit;">What an inspiring week. After seeing the peaceful outpouring of supporters at the Women's Marches around the world, I can't help but feel hope for our country. People are power. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Speaking of strong women, I sent the amazing Agnes Marton a few interview questions and am thrilled to share them with you today. Agnes will speak on creativity and the creative life. So, without further ado... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<strong><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Agnes Marton </span></strong><span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 11pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">is a poet, writer, Reviews Editor of The Ofi Press, founding member of Phoneme Media, Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts. Recent publications include </span><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Estuary: A Confluence of Art and Poetry</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"> (winning the Saboteur Award) and her poetry collection </span><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Captain Fly’s Bucket List</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">. She has participated in an expedition to the Arctic Circle.</span></span></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: black; font-size: 11pt;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Hi, Agnes! Thank you so much for taking the time to answer a few questions. So as a writer, I'm curious as to what a day in your life looks like.</span></b></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have a day job – otherwise I avoid routines. I write whenever I can. I travel a lot. I love writers' residencies.</span></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">When did you know you wanted to be a writer? </span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWni0ED_MKP_gDxRl5RCsWHgoN2LZb5KDln-l3S8SdV11gsmoJV0EVCDSYQQCYgwgxqTlq1sKF8Mf25nrh6oWf0IdSTGtZJlwGHbE0QiD_pKJCwgvxeudwqwUGyA38jJF0m02jdOJ8NVpC/s1600/Agnes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">At the age of four when I became a compulsive reader and storyteller.</span></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">What inspires you to write a poem?</span></b></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Deep and complex feelings.</span></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anything unpredictable.</span></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Myths (but then I create my personal mythology).</span></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Travel (however, I don't describe the landscape – I observe how my attitude changes).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">What's the last book you read?</span></b></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">'The Wonder' by Emma Donoghue and 'A Manual For Cleaning Women' by Lucia Berlin.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">How did this collection come together? </span></b></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWni0ED_MKP_gDxRl5RCsWHgoN2LZb5KDln-l3S8SdV11gsmoJV0EVCDSYQQCYgwgxqTlq1sKF8Mf25nrh6oWf0IdSTGtZJlwGHbE0QiD_pKJCwgvxeudwqwUGyA38jJF0m02jdOJ8NVpC/s1600/Agnes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWni0ED_MKP_gDxRl5RCsWHgoN2LZb5KDln-l3S8SdV11gsmoJV0EVCDSYQQCYgwgxqTlq1sKF8Mf25nrh6oWf0IdSTGtZJlwGHbE0QiD_pKJCwgvxeudwqwUGyA38jJF0m02jdOJ8NVpC/s320/Agnes.jpg" width="213" /></span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">It seemed reasonable to compile a collection of my poems while preparing for the London premiere of my opera 'Captain Fly's Bucket List.' I hadn't written the poems with the intention of compiling them but I put much effort in editing the book, in shaping the three chapters, forming an arc. Now, on my return from my Arctic Circle residency, the situation is different. My responses to this expedition will definitely make a book, I've known that from the very first minute.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Do you ever find yourself creatively blocked, and if so, how do you find your way through?</span></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Not really. I have a close look at some unusual details, and immediately feel like writing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Do you ever use prompts?</span></b></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Rarely. When I'm invited to submit to a themed anthology.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">What advice do you have for other writers?</span></b></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Don't write when you have nothing to say. Wait.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">What is the best advice you ever received?</span></b></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
</div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Leave your comfort zone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">What are you working on now?</span></b></div>
<div style="background: white none repeat scroll 0% 0%;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm in collaboration with visual artists Sarah Gerats and Viel Bjerkeset Andersen, their videos are accompanied by my Arctic poems. Also, with composer Vasiliki Legaki, we are creating the extended version of our opera. It is scheduled to be performed at the Burning Man Festival in Nevada in 2018. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks for stopping by! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'll be posting again in Feb, so prompts are forthcoming... in the meantime, here are a few links to </span><a href="http://www.pw.org/conferences_and_residencies" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;">writing residencies</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">.</span> </div>
Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-9087639159965077142016-12-30T09:10:00.001-06:002016-12-30T09:10:24.303-06:00Observations: January, 2017With the new year comes possibility. Sure, many of us are afraid for the health of America's states. We worry about the integrity of our new administration, we worry about basic human rights, we worry that families won't be able to afford basic healthcare and that our educational systems are broken beyond repair, but 2017 could surprise us. Our mistakes and complacency and greed are being amplified, and this can teach us a lot. <br />
<br />
We got here together, to a time of disbelief and propaganda-fueled beliefs. We need to listen to each other more than ever before, and we need to talk to each other more than ever before. Things may seem dark, but I believe real change will come from it. In the words of the late Leonard Cohen: <i>"There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in."</i> <br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
In 2016, I learned:<br />
<ul>
<li>Family is everything.</li>
<li>Fear can either be turned into energy or it can sap energy. </li>
<li>The weak and uninformed follow anyone who gives them a common enemy and an excuse, but there is no enemy greater than hate and division. #resist #listen</li>
<li>If there was an award for person who places as a finalist in the most contests, I'd win in 2016. (Or be a finalist.)</li>
<li>I wrote that last bullet point before I got the good news below.</li>
<li>The word elitist seems to fit as many republicans as it does democrats. </li>
<li>When you help someone to achieve their dreams, yours are more likely to come true.</li>
<li>It's OK to say NO.</li>
<li>It's <b><u>not</u></b> OK to avoid answering questions you don't want to answer.</li>
<li>I'm getting old. ("I don't understand why these young people don't look people in the eye...")</li>
<li>Transparency is fine, so long as you're a willing participant.</li>
<li>With all the loss of talented artists this year, we have a lot of powerhouse angels.</li>
<li>Art is more important than ever.</li>
</ul>
In 2017, I will:<br />
<ul>
<li>Write unapologetically and as often as I can.</li>
<li>Stand up for what I believe and listen to those I do not agree with.</li>
<li>Buy my first home.</li>
<li>Eat well.</li>
<li>Exercise well.</li>
<li>Try new things.</li>
<li>Call those I love, even when things are going well or I have nothing big to announce.</li>
<li>Support my writing friends.</li>
<li>Learn from my students.</li>
<li>Support my family.</li>
<li>Tackle big problems one angle at a time.</li>
<li>Run on my own terms.</li>
<li>Find the perfect computer bag.</li>
<li>Age gracefully.</li>
<li>Drink more water.</li>
<li>Travel every chance I get.</li>
<li>Say NO to what is too much without guilt.</li>
<li>Say YES to what I want but scares me.</li>
<li>Post to this blog monthly. </li>
<li>Listen to everything and make the best decisions I can.</li>
</ul>
I'm excited to announce that my unpublished short fiction collection, <i>The Glass City</i>, won the 2016 Americana Prize for Prose. I'm hoping the book will find its way to print soon. I also received word that my short story "Running Toward the Sun" got finalist status in the Aestas Short Story Competition 2016 and will be published in Fabula Press's Aestas Anthology soon. <br />
<br />
Prompt: Write a short story or poem that begins with the line "The curtain parts, and..."Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-34417262948294199642016-12-08T16:49:00.000-06:002016-12-08T16:49:01.660-06:00Observations, December: Part 15The best way to reach out is to look within. Sounds good anyway, right? It definitely seems the basis for meditation and the theme of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Westworld_(TV_series)" target="_blank">Westworld</a>, so how can it not be true? <br />
<br />
I've been taking a break from social media, specifically Facebook, to focus on a few writing projects. In a way, looking within through art. Or maybe I'm just strategizing about how to live in a less-than-ideal reality.<br />
<br />
Whatever the answers... here are my observations from the last month:<br />
<ul>
<li>Don't take HVAC systems for granted. </li>
<li>Internet advertisers: Send me a coupon, get a click. Send me twelve coupons, I'll block you.</li>
<li>Most of us are dehydrated (drink some water).</li>
<li>Cold weather = increased coffee consumption.</li>
<li>Basic civics, logic, and humanities curriculums need more attention in America. Too many people are under-informed and easily manipulated. </li>
<li>Art saves. Action saves. Bitching is just bitching.</li>
<li>There are way too many dystopic films for my comfort. (*cough* education)</li>
<li>One can resist respectfully. Love regardless. Love relentlessly.</li>
<li>House hunting is equal parts fun and a PITA.</li>
</ul>
Prompt: Your character is living The American Dream. What's his or her day like?<br />
<br />
I published a few interviews at <a href="http://www.blackfoxlitmag.com/2016/11/08/a-conversation-with-jen-knox/" target="_blank">Black Fox Literary Magazine</a> and <a href="https://blog.superstitionreview.asu.edu/2016/11/17/guest-post-jen-knox-on-workshops/" target="_blank">Superstition Review</a>, both on writing/the writing life. Check 'em out!!<br />
<br />
Love, Jen<br />
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-57068227366666593102016-11-11T09:37:00.002-06:002016-11-11T15:17:33.260-06:00Observations, November: Part 14 I've had trouble distilling my thoughts since November 8th.<br />
<br />
I have worries surrounding the future of our nation, including the very real loss of my rights as a woman. I am worried about the economy, foreign relations, a racist police state, and illogical and emotional responses to real threats.<br />
<br />
I saw this morning that the president elect said something positive in regards to the thousands who are protesting his presidency. Something about how their passion for country is a positive thing. <br />
<br />
I can only hope this small bit of positivity, if genuine and not written by an intern, grows. I did not vote for Trump, and I do not feel he is fit for the position. He is not my choice, and quite honestly, I am terrified. I am <a href="http://enclave.entropymag.org/resources-what-you-can-do-right-now/" target="_blank">acting, in what small ways I can</a> to reroute. In case we cannot, however, I do hope I'm wrong. <br />
<br />
I am thankful that good people surround me, people who give me hope. They remind me that in the darkest of times, the light shines brightest. It is Veterans Day, and today I will be going to an event at an elementary school in which our writers-in-communities program has been coaching young people how to write poetry and personal essays. Our students have been working hard and having fun exploring their creative voices. They remind me that people are resilient and strong. Tomorrow's generation may still be about unity and inclusion. Today, the children will perform a poem in tribute to our vets. I am eager to see their light. I think we all need it. <br />
<br />
I hope to be back to my normal self next month. Right now, I'm just too sad.<br />
<br />
Thank you to all who served and serve. Thank you to those who are shedding light during a time of division. <br />
<br />
In solidarity,<br />
<br />
Jen<br />
<br />
<br />Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-60275986271559851092016-10-11T07:48:00.000-05:002016-10-11T07:48:19.816-05:00Observations, October: Part 13I'm writing this after the second presidential debate. This, the town hall debate between Donald Trump, reality television star turned presidential candidate, and Hillary Clinton, former New York Senator and Secretary of State. The debate was painful to watch, and I won't dwell on it here, but I will say that I think our country needs the arts more than ever. We need a Renaissance, a wave of innovation and insight to offset what seems an increasingly uninformed and divided country. We need to grow, not devolve. <br />
<br />
A few other observations from this past month:<br />
<ul>
<li>This election engages. It engages because it infuriates, much like a bad script. I hope the nation does not condemn itself. I hope those who take the trouble to self-educate and read widely vote. </li>
<li>Locker room talk is still talk. This is still a story. It will continue to be a story until November 8th.</li>
<li>People who go all-out with Halloween decorations are just good and fun people, in general. </li>
<li><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0475784/" target="_blank">Westworld</a> is reflecting some scary truths.</li>
<li>Clowns are just fine. Scary clowns are not. Not all clowns are scary. (Logic!)</li>
<li>The news today feels like the bad day-time TV of my youth.</li>
<li>The first few cool days in South Texas are divine.</li>
<li>Teaching is one thing, teaching well is another.</li>
<li>There is nothing as gratifying as a good story.</li>
<li>Marginal utility should be practiced with all food and drink. It just makes sense.</li>
<li>Loosing the internet at home for an evening can lead to unexpected peace.</li>
<li>Reading is good for the soul, so check out my new short story, a ghost story: <a href="http://sfwp.com/fortune-in-smoke-by-jen-knox/" target="_blank">FORTUNE IN SMOKE</a> at SFWP Quarterly.</li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaGTlXxH2NcbnSXHKk1kvlM5RPiasmsbMJCuaGuipgk1d0bjmvZUPjfoijVhDY85-x9Rpb4_lEA5ucHUsgynu4Oo8S3-rPHhfkIdeBGQu2cUrmLx6luUzeMjBVufsEurznC4xstw03f5H5/s1600/WP_20161009_18_56_23_Pro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaGTlXxH2NcbnSXHKk1kvlM5RPiasmsbMJCuaGuipgk1d0bjmvZUPjfoijVhDY85-x9Rpb4_lEA5ucHUsgynu4Oo8S3-rPHhfkIdeBGQu2cUrmLx6luUzeMjBVufsEurznC4xstw03f5H5/s320/WP_20161009_18_56_23_Pro.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div>
Ahti watching Westworld</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b><i>Creativity: Write about or draw a clown who is a hero, a champion of all things good. By doing so, you may write a fantastic short story/create good art and restore balance to the world. </i></b><div>
<b><i><br /></i></b></div>
<div>
<b><i>xoxo</i></b></div>
<div>
<b><i><br /></i></b></div>
<div>
<b><i>Jen</i></b><br /></div>
Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-29093856393218130652016-09-26T17:15:00.001-05:002016-09-26T17:22:24.777-05:00Observations on Mood, September: Part 12 Here's the overview of my day so far (if I survive, it might be comical): illness kept me up in pain all night; in the morning, I purchased the wrong item at the grocery, so I had to go back; rain flooded my neighborhood; lunch looked good but wasn't; I finally got reimbursed for a extraneous charge from a company but ended up having to pay more than that for my prescription because I haven't yet met my deductible; I got backed up on work; I took a pain reliever that gave me hives; I logged on to gmail to find that everyone who hasn't gotten back to me in the last two weeks decided to email me today; I had trouble concentrating because I was tired; I responded to a personal email after misreading it, so had to respond again, but the person had already responded to my response, so it kept on; my leg fell asleep when I tried to meditate, then <i>I </i>fell asleep and almost hit my head on the wall (still trying to meditate); I found it difficult to exercise; and so on.<br />
<br />
This day makes me want advice, but instead of asking someone, I'm thinking about all the advice I'd give someone else who is having a bad day. Are you having a bad day? Ordinarily, I'd say...<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Meditate</li>
<li>Read</li>
<li>Exercise</li>
<li>Eat well</li>
<li>Talk to a friend</li>
<li>Be grateful for what you have</li>
<li>Drink lots of water (I say this to people no matter what's wrong)</li>
<li>Take a bath</li>
<li>Take a long walk</li>
<li>Hang out with your dog or cat or bird</li>
</ul>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwGD1dL_SGzjq1Vc_2WViAfxcpn0pQStcHScEWL6ZjTEQhBpJlBoKNqiShKM42DrqtHrETM7q-Ovy5KOucsYPVsOBpVK6DKehO1K3jA9ctNJJg-nCu_qPk9Wvw_OWUTIUorPt-pOlYtaYt/s1600/ALEXANDER_TERRIBLE_HORRIBLE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwGD1dL_SGzjq1Vc_2WViAfxcpn0pQStcHScEWL6ZjTEQhBpJlBoKNqiShKM42DrqtHrETM7q-Ovy5KOucsYPVsOBpVK6DKehO1K3jA9ctNJJg-nCu_qPk9Wvw_OWUTIUorPt-pOlYtaYt/s200/ALEXANDER_TERRIBLE_HORRIBLE.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a><div>
<br /></div>
I didn't drink that much water today, but I tried most of this other stuff at some point. Now, I'm brooding. I'm dwelling in my misery, digging deep into it and adding up all the factors. In fact, I'm starting to feel a weensy bit better with each word I type, so maybe the secret to being in a bad mood is to just own it fully. Maybe when we try to fight the bad feelings, they fight back. </div>
<br />
<br />
Creativity prompt: Write or paint or sketch something inspired by a truly horrible day. (The book above is fantastic, by the way.)<br />
<br />
Recent publications (short stuff): <a href="https://chicagoliterati.com/2016/08/31/polygon-by-jen-knox/" target="_blank">Polygon</a> in <i>Chicago Literati</i>, <a href="http://www.literaryorphans.org/playdb/lottery-days-jen-knox/" target="_blank">Lottery Days</a> in <i>Literary Orphans</i>.Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-81452388383626328742016-09-19T16:43:00.000-05:002016-09-21T08:45:32.011-05:00Interview with the author: Alexandra van de Kamp<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkyBZsG32X7pOabURcnLk5Em2GNCtUum8pK2byXZ0QEPxb7bVXPxZWUzw2H2NA4mWFYO-C8cvGAM0Ue0rJeWYwyzCbKvJuSZ3vB1DBXST9U9SPYKKeJVWNENZBYFKP-fhzodVg0ZfWQWk4/s1600/Alexandra+van+de+Kamp+Author+Photo+in+Yellow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkyBZsG32X7pOabURcnLk5Em2GNCtUum8pK2byXZ0QEPxb7bVXPxZWUzw2H2NA4mWFYO-C8cvGAM0Ue0rJeWYwyzCbKvJuSZ3vB1DBXST9U9SPYKKeJVWNENZBYFKP-fhzodVg0ZfWQWk4/s320/Alexandra+van+de+Kamp+Author+Photo+in+Yellow.jpg" width="180" /></a>After reading her new poetry collection, <i><b><a href="http://www.rainmountainpress.com/" target="_blank">Kiss/Hierarchy</a> </b></i>(Rain Mountain Press, 2016), I was eager to ask Alexandra van de Kamp a few questions about her work and routines. I first met Alexandra two years ago at a simultaneously wonderful and disastrous reading that I put together at San Antonio College (wonderful because of the amazingly talented readers and disastrous because we lost electricity, but I digress). Over sweet potato fries and craft brews at The Cove, we got to know each other. I soon found out that Alexandra is not only a nice person but an extremely talented writer.<br />
<br />
Shortly after we met, we had coffee and realized we were both being considered for positions at the same literary nonprofit, <a href="http://geminiink.org/" target="_blank">Gemini Ink</a>. Since then, I've had the privilege of getting to know Alexandra as a co-worker (who organizes and hosts amazing public events [always with electricity] and classes in the area) as well as a friend, who is smart, funny, and generous beyond words.<br />
<br />
Enough backstory about how I know Alexandra. I am eager to introduce both the woman and her work to you...<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><b>Hi, Alexandra! Thank you for taking the time to speak with me today. As you know, I love Kiss/Hierarchy. </b></i><i><b>Many of the poems in this collection begin with a narrative easing-in: either an observation that piques the reader’s
interest or a direct appeal in epistolary form. The poems invite a reader to
glance over the shoulder as a letter is written, walk alongside the narrator as
a landscape is consumed, or hold the magnifying glass as persona is carefully
taken apart and put back together. Who or what is the audience you envision as
you write? Is audience only considered after a poem is complete?</b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wow, what a rich question to contemplate! I guess you
could say that I try to write poems that invite the reader in, in different
ways, and sometimes that is a more narrative gesture (as you have so astutely
pointed out), and sometimes it can be the allure of the sounds of words or just
a single image that snags in my mind. For example, the title poem in the book,
“Kiss/Hierarchy,” actually was triggered by reading the dairies of Anaïs Nin
and coming upon a single statement that immediately made me want to respond to
it. Nin states, rather coyly, “There are two ways to reach me: by way of kisses
or by way of the imagination. But there is a hierarchy: the kisses alone don’t
work.” And this statement immediately made me want to challenge/explore the
idea of the appeal of kisses and to take on this division that Nin had set
up—between the imagination (and its role in our mental lives) and the role of
kisses (and the phenomenon that they are in our physical lives). It also became a sort of game for me to test
this dichotomy in our lives between the sensual and the intellectual. So, I
guess if I attempted to describe the audience I was writing for (something I do
not contemplate very much during the writing of my poems but do wonder about
once I’ve written a book and hope it sells!), I would say I’d love to lure in
those with an insatiable curiosity about the world around them, who take little
for granted about what makes up a daily “reality,” and who are intellectually generous
in how they absorb and entertain new ideas. That said, I do not have an
over-defined idea of my audience, and I wouldn’t want to over-restrict it in
any way. I think my poems tell me what they want and need to say (on a good
day!) and the audience for the work comes out of this process.<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZjwslt1bQ9prtvdcFFPDkaiRY9XCpMW-RkfFwIdfwIoYAj_oWW8T4HGweo9lC2luqO7LDS-fODs4Y5Kc38kYBhUPQJTOMan2ccSwA4T-0SDXv8q7-mJsfG4g5N0xy-IjwPfi7rGQOQ3Fy/s1600/Kiss+Hierachy+Cover+Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZjwslt1bQ9prtvdcFFPDkaiRY9XCpMW-RkfFwIdfwIoYAj_oWW8T4HGweo9lC2luqO7LDS-fODs4Y5Kc38kYBhUPQJTOMan2ccSwA4T-0SDXv8q7-mJsfG4g5N0xy-IjwPfi7rGQOQ3Fy/s1600/Kiss+Hierachy+Cover+Image.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Available on <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Kiss-Hierarchy-Alexandra-van-Kamp/dp/099683849X" target="_blank">Amazon</a><br />and from <a href="http://www.rainmountainpress.com/" target="_blank">Rain Mountain Press</a></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><b>Where were you when you wrote these poems? How long did
it take for them to come together?<o:p></o:p></b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wrote all of the poems for this book when I was still
living in New York—the North Shore of Long Island, to be exact. I’ve only
recently moved to San Antonio, TX in the last year and a half. I take a long
time to compile a book of poems (I seem to write chapbooks, collections of
25-30 pages, much more quickly). My husband and I rented a little cottage on
the North Shore of Long Island because we were both teaching and working at
Stony Brook University at the time, which was nearby. I remember the summer for
2006 being especially fertile writing-wise. I had a span of 1-2 months to write
after a really intense semester of teaching, and I just recall hunkering down
in that little cottage, letting myself dwell on my first Long Island summer
(after having lived in Brooklyn, NY and slogging through some pretty hot and
humid urban summers) and reveling in the green around me, the flora and, even the
inch worm infestation that summer. All these inch worms were dangling from the
trees, little unravelling green bodies. They were a nuisance but I liked them!
And this was when I began to write poems more overtly triggered by the sound of
words—letting the music of the language become its own logic. This is why you
find poems in my newest collection, <i>Kiss/Hierarchy</i>,
that are titled things like: “Dear A—“ or “Dear S—“. They were epistle poems,
as you’ve pointed out, but epistles addressed to the sounds of letters and to
the associations and lyrical leaps that arose for me while allowing words
beginning with these sounds to lead the “narrative” in each poem. So it took me
10 years—2006 to 2016—to get the poems I started that summer published and
compiled as a full-length book. Of course, I actually wrote most of them by
2014. In that decade I also published two poetry chapbooks as stepping stones
to the full-length.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><b>“The Electrician” stood out for me. It seemed the voice
in this poem was less exploratory initially, more about asserting a certain power
or position in the world. But by the end of the poem, I got the sense that the
familiar narrative style is there, behind the scenes, exploring the voice,
exploring the assertions. What inspired this particular poem? <o:p></o:p></b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I actually had an electrician visit our Long Island cottage
to fix some old light fixtures, and he was a rather contemplative
personality—not something I typically related to electricians (my fault for
having a somewhat limited view of this profession), and it made me ponder what
it must be like to be the one “fixing light” all day long and toying with electrical
wiring. I know the role of an electrician can be a tricky one (and dangerous),
but this guy had a sort of laconic air about it all and told me some stories
about crawling into tiny, intricate spaces to correct extra tricky electrical
problems, and suddenly this persona poem came about. I, of course, had fun
playing with the very focused point-of-view of this profession and came up with
images like: “I finger the wormy wires, un-cup/the fixtures and peer/at their
sex. I know what grows, / furtive as thought, in the porous/ walls of houses.” Each
profession has its own obsessions. I am contemplating writing a persona poem
about a dentist. Can you imagine staring into people’s mouths all day long—what
a perspective that would create? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><b>As a fiction writer, one who stumble-writes the
occasional prose poem but has no real academic concept of form, all I know is
whether/how a poem affects me. I feel oddly lucky that I get to experience
poetry in this way, especially poetry like yours that builds and takes
unexpected turns. <o:p></o:p></b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><b>Considering this, one commonality I noticed in your book is
that after the narrative lure, your poems coil in. I begin to feel the pressure
build as your increasingly textured words examine the nuance of life, the
moments inside moments (“the liquid bird/ inside that night”). The poetic
experience is visceral. </b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><o:p></o:p></i><i>In other words, you are not afraid to write a sexy poem, a
poem with body and swagger. Has your poetry always come out with such swagger,
or did you have to work up to it? </i><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thanks for such a beautifully-written, thoughtful
question, Jen. “Poems (that) coil in…”
hmmm I like that idea. I have never thought of my poems having
“swagger,” but I find it really interesting that you do! I think I did have to
work up to creating a certain crescendo or tension in my poems. Once again, a
lot of this has to do with me following the sounds of words. I think this freed
me up a bit at a point in my writing life when I was looking for new triggers
in my work and was moving away from the more straightforward narrative style I
had been writing in (a style I still love, but I was just looking for new ways
into my writing process). Because I leaned on sounds as the “spine” of my poem
rather than a more linear “plot,” I think it helped a certain energy occur that
might not have arisen otherwise. It also built surprise into my writing
process. I came up with words and images I may have never considered before
just because of riffing on a specific sound. I also learned the importance of
embracing a sense of play in one’s work. Not play in a frivolous sense, but a
sense of deep play, a willingness to let go of my writing process a bit to
allow the unexpected to enter into it or to write with a sense of playing with
sounds and the feel and texture of words and seeing where that led me. I do
believe in the “visceral” knowledge of language. That it has a breathing,
physical presence and power, and I’ve enjoyed leaning into that more lately.
It’s shown me the words know more than I do if I just trust in them and their
own internal logic. Does that make any sense? I hope so.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><b>The cinematic nods
and strong location-based curiosities and appreciations of people and their
roles – and what is behind those roles – are recurring themes. What inspires
you about film, about our various roles in life and art? And why?<o:p></o:p></b></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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I have written a fair amount of ekphrastic poetry in my
life—poems inspired or somehow obliquely influenced by the visual arts—a
painting, photograph or sculpture, etc….
I see film as just visual art in motion, moving images literally. I have
learned so much from the world of cinema, how the mood, texture, and light of
film can create a whole other reality alongside our own. There is a long history
of writing about or through film, dating back to the surrealists like Apollinaire
and Max Jacob, who were writing in the early 20<sup>th</sup> century, when
film was just coming into being. The speed of the images in film and the new
juxtapositions of imagery and scenery it offered deeply impacted poets back
then and has continued to do so ever since, from the avant-garde French poets,
such as Pierre Reverdy and André Breton at the time of WWI, to American poets like
Frank O’Hara, writing in the 50s and 60s, to contemporary poets now. O’Hara was
keenly influenced by the world of film and often dropped cinematic references
into his work. His well-known poem “Ave Maria” published in 1964 (<i>Lunch Poems) </i>is an example of this. In this poem, O’Hara’s
reference to the soul “that grows in darkness, embossed by silvery images”
captures the otherworldly, dreamlike feel of the cinema, especially when
experienced in a theater. I think the world of movies has given me the
permission to write more dream-like work, or poems not limited to a linear
logic. In this way, watching film has freed me up as an artist, and I return to
it again and again for a certain permission to view “reality” from unexpected
angles and to let my work be drenched in an atmosphere or mood I find unusual
or intriguing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><b>What is your writing routine? <o:p></o:p></b></i></div>
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I wish I could say I have a well-honed routine, but I
have learned over the years what works for me and what does not and have come
to respect my need for certain parameters to be in place that allow me to write.
For example, I write better in the morning than at night (although I’ve learned
taking a little afternoon nap can give me a boost that allows me to write in
the evening as well). But I am not one
of those writers who finds their groove at 1am! I often let myself read first
before worrying about writing something myself. In other words, I know I need
to let myself gestate a bit before putting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard.
When I was living in Madrid in my late 20s and 30’s, I rented this apartment
with another apartment mate, and my bedroom literally looked onto the wall of
the opposing apartment (what the Spanish would call an “interior” view because
my window faced onto the inside courtyard of the building and not out onto the
street). However, I learned that all I needed was to brew a good cup of coffee,
and let myself stare out that window, meditating on the opposite white stone
all. Really do nothing at all for about 15 minutes or so, and trust my mind to
go where it needed to go. Then, I was ready to do some work. So I think I need
a certain quiet, the feeling that I don’t have five things scheduled for the
day I am trying to write within, and a feeling of permission to let my mind
play and wander. And, of course, a computer or journal nearby.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ve also gotten less fastidious over the years, and have learned
I need not have hours free to write but can compose something in less time and
that sometime I write fairly decently when stressed or feeling anxious. My idea
of the “perfect writing time” has loosened up. Life is short, and you just
can’t wait for things to be “perfect” to write! Sometimes you have to just take
a stab and see what happens.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><b>What are you
working on now? </b></i></div>
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I am working on new pieces for a third book of poems.
Some of these poems are influenced by having moved to South Texas in the last
year and a half. The green, exotic flora of San Antonio intrigues me. I’ve
never lived in a place with palm trees, cactus, and grackles. I also continue
to be influenced by the world of the movies and by the textures and sounds of
words. And I just let reality be its own “movie” and am open to whatever images
or experiences I may encounter on a daily basis. I don’t like to over-pin down
what I am currently working on because often I don’t know until I am doing it!
I am also working on maintaining a blog in which I offer mini-reviews on poets
and writers I admire and post occasional musings on movies and the writing
process itself. I also love to write prose poems and am toying with writing a
collection of prose poems or prose vignettes. But mostly, I am writing poem by
poem and building my next manuscript.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Thank you so much for taking the time to chat with me, Alexandra!</div>
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Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-84518841148915500462016-08-18T15:59:00.000-05:002017-01-17T17:43:57.107-06:00Reflections from Marfa: 2016<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmX_2_z-DsfgxrOifkeE8wLarkbdvdFne0FgrcOS1j4l_iD76AA0SOTo8vo4GIR-0fEsy0FedT5PEyNUmbvFo07Q68y2EdZP0LMoBFIzwOThjcJ-5PF-reeodWjRbGG_RRqQwYnL_m-90F/s1600/IMG_20160814_134006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmX_2_z-DsfgxrOifkeE8wLarkbdvdFne0FgrcOS1j4l_iD76AA0SOTo8vo4GIR-0fEsy0FedT5PEyNUmbvFo07Q68y2EdZP0LMoBFIzwOThjcJ-5PF-reeodWjRbGG_RRqQwYnL_m-90F/s320/IMG_20160814_134006.jpg" width="320" /></a>The drive from San Antonio to Marfa is full of snaky roads and
rock fall warnings. Taking I-10 through the hill country toward West Texas, the
landscape is marked by rampart and cacti; the radio station options go from a
few dozen to two. My husband and I listened to horse raising commentary
interspersed with a sort of country music free-styling session. Our dog sat in
the backseat, at first upright and ears perky, then alert and curious, and
finally slouching and timid. <i>Erm … where are
you taking me?</i></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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The winds hit as I heard the hook “if you’re gonna play in
Texas, you gotta have a fiddle in the van,” and things got Hunter S. Thompson
weird from there (sans mind-altering support). We stopped at just about every
gas station we could find as we made our way further west. If driving to West
Texas, remember that bathrooms are an opportunity to seize, not a guarantee.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As the roads twisted higher and the mountains surfaced along
the horizon, we noticed fewer road signs and more border control vehicles.
Marathon, TX was is a ghost town on the Sunday we drove through, but we were
able to find gas and grab a picture from the base of a hill before setting
sights on Alpine, home to Sul Ross State University. The town, at about 6K,
hosts a few food trucks and a coffee shop with a laundromat attached and a
scrabble board ordering menu. Dogs were welcome everywhere, it seemed, and “everywhere”
could be exhausted in a few hours with enough motivation and mobility. We
walked and soaked in the beauty of the mountains in the distance, and we looked
for people, figuring they must be hiding somewhere. We walked. <o:p></o:p></div>
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About twenty minutes away (if you drive hella fast), Marfa waited in all her divine dissimilarity.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqGXmuxydqAurqHlcrJuJtTDWdt8T2PDBzTMH9qPjxhOSBEc_zMpXdTV9IlRfNiv881iX03LSlfIM4cQMJUGD9Of17p-zhZpevHRzR1EMpZfzk2wq4g8KnsVSMk1n1z9O7Ve8dbGMIaQnx/s1600/20160814_191005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqGXmuxydqAurqHlcrJuJtTDWdt8T2PDBzTMH9qPjxhOSBEc_zMpXdTV9IlRfNiv881iX03LSlfIM4cQMJUGD9Of17p-zhZpevHRzR1EMpZfzk2wq4g8KnsVSMk1n1z9O7Ve8dbGMIaQnx/s640/20160814_191005.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Population of approximately 2K, Marfa was once home solely to
ranchers but now houses artsy folk from Los Angeles and New York, thanks to the
foresight of minimalism without motion. To find art in life and not spend
endless conversations debating art philosophies and trying to navigate the ever
elusive art circles, Donald Judd moved to Marfa in the seventies thanks to a
fellowship that allowed him to expose the small city’s heartbeat with the construction
of markers that shone light on the contrast that occurs in life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMUwfATO1PV4ZLsY9lm4myb2LuSTQOEKf6Jwxh2ONXkT1O1Kdff-V5LPqOep7t8spB9m2nr8oui48eqdY_o_JYtiPjaiGkisWQoHpa5meITEoCegdVeObe0huNQclWcKCgXZSN49aLP5h/s1600/IMG_20160815_075840.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMUwfATO1PV4ZLsY9lm4myb2LuSTQOEKf6Jwxh2ONXkT1O1Kdff-V5LPqOep7t8spB9m2nr8oui48eqdY_o_JYtiPjaiGkisWQoHpa5meITEoCegdVeObe0huNQclWcKCgXZSN49aLP5h/s320/IMG_20160815_075840.jpg" width="320" /></a>Walking around <a href="http://www.visitmarfa.com/" target="_blank">Marfa</a> felt like a large-scale treasure hunt.
Unlike geocaching, I didn’t have to move rocks or climb mountains to find my
treasures, however. Instead, I needed only pay attention. The barren landscape
was dotted with brilliant, clean, minimalist art that seemed to both complement
and conflict with the city that it housed. While venturing to Marfa restaurants
and bars on a Sunday and finding only two of the seven Yelp suggestions to be
open, Chris and I wound up at the one open bar. <o:p></o:p></div>
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This bar could have easily been in a small Ohio town or,
really, any small town, but instead of a surly or worn-looking bar tender - someone
whose life choices, situations, and work history have been etched into her
face, this bar, replete with sticky floors and two-three patrons who looked as
though they were there daily, was tended by a woman whose cherubic features and
angular style suggested adopted, rather than inherent, struggle. She was clean
and smooth skinned and unworn. <o:p></o:p></div>
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After chatting with some of the locals, who were descendants
of locals, I came to understand that there is a generations-deep feud between
<a href="http://www.visitmarfa.com/" target="_blank">Marfa</a> and Alpine that dates back to ranchers who used to own all of the land. I
also came to understand that guests in Marfa are welcome and hospitality is
almost a competitive sport. After exploring the outside bar area, which
contained a street light and a swing above the gravel floor littered with
American Spirit butts, we walked in the cool desert air toward Hotel Paisano,
the site of the <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000072/" target="_blank">Elizabeth Taylor</a> Movie, <i>Giant</i>.
On the way, we passed a gas station (food!) and a few other small shops and
stores that were open only Thursday through Saturday. We ended up eating dinner
at the hotel, which was rather good. Though I don’t recommend the fish tacos,
everything else was divine. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The thing I noticed most about Marfa was a sort of pervasive
peace. Everyone we spoke to was kind in an unrushed way. I caught myself having
conversations and feeling an ephemeral tug of the chin downward, as though I
had a text to answer or an email to send. What an odd and strung-out sort of
feeling. Though I admittedly spent the first day taking a shit ton of pictures
and posting them to Instagram, the second day was about accepting that quiet
wholeheartedly. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1XzXNqkfP5FfMElbRh_tFy0sMaG31GpaeaKh5appJQR5LIPwwoBXFwtxEEc4TLFyvfoQ07WVHiTPPY53dQ88ccaupY8au1emJZkMXEpftA9ui1uobPa6_WXDMy6BfTr7AKYMOU62n9e7z/s1600/14053800_10154354050414400_5730476312829941446_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1XzXNqkfP5FfMElbRh_tFy0sMaG31GpaeaKh5appJQR5LIPwwoBXFwtxEEc4TLFyvfoQ07WVHiTPPY53dQ88ccaupY8au1emJZkMXEpftA9ui1uobPa6_WXDMy6BfTr7AKYMOU62n9e7z/s320/14053800_10154354050414400_5730476312829941446_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Marfa reminded me how much I crave such time. To be with
one’s self and one’s loved o<o:p></o:p></div>
nes in silence is a gift rarely allowed in our
transparency-above-all age. As though planted, a Marfa rainbow greeted us at an
art school as we walked around, bellies finally full, noticing the number of
cars (mostly trucks, actually) we saw could all fit in a doughnut shop parking
lot with spaces to spare. The quietude was mesmerizing and important to me. <br />
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When we went to the lookout to see the famous Marfa Lights, we weren't disappointed to see only a few car headlights coming up the road. Each set contained promise, then the emotional equivalent to a shrug of the shoulders. Not indifference exactly, something nearer understanding. We stared out at the mountains, until we began to yawn. A local later told us that you don't always get to see them, and that he thinks they're staged. Perhaps. <a href="http://www.marfatxlights.com/index.html" target="_blank">Some people beg to differ</a>. To us, it didn't matter. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAc1AO2sDZaQci2NR3NxNySC0srg1U7DFm86ZjYI23XRW6DTw_U8k-se2SfxVf8LcWBlg_-TU6yZbaedp57lIhDufx5p-zUER5YxYd4APmQqZAvuPGFMyMZu_OHND4rF7k5DLBD3_bqIDC/s1600/20160814_190610+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAc1AO2sDZaQci2NR3NxNySC0srg1U7DFm86ZjYI23XRW6DTw_U8k-se2SfxVf8LcWBlg_-TU6yZbaedp57lIhDufx5p-zUER5YxYd4APmQqZAvuPGFMyMZu_OHND4rF7k5DLBD3_bqIDC/s320/20160814_190610+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a>“Marfa is the place people go to disappear,” a friend said before our trip. I only wish I could’ve kept the invisibility cloak on a bit longer.
I turned 37 in Marfa, and I am going to remember the city's influence, artistic and
inherent. I will attempt to carry some semblance of its odd peace and simplicity with me
this year. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Creativity prompt: Go somewhere quiet. No coffee, no food, no books, no computer. Just bring a pen and paper. Write.</div>
Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-78158868897267074542016-08-08T16:57:00.003-05:002016-08-08T16:57:49.880-05:00A Month of Observations, August 2016: Part 11Some thoughts in August...<br />
<ul>
<li>The best way to not write is to talk about what you're writing.</li>
<li>If you want to feel better about your decision-making skills, put your chess app on Level 1.</li>
<li>Name changes are a PITA. </li>
<li>When you have 4 teachers and and only 1 student, that's one lucky student. #truestory</li>
<li>You shouldn't sip espresso. If you do, you don't get it. I'll show you how it's done.</li>
<li>The right lighting is everything.</li>
<li>The right friends are everything.</li>
<li>The right place at the right time is cool.</li>
<li>The right direction without GPS is genius.</li>
<li>The right decision can't be over-analyzed.</li>
<li>Adjuncts don't get paid enough. </li>
<li>Nonprofit workers don't get paid enough.</li>
<li>The cannabis industry, globally, is something that people like to wave off, then secretly invest in. #truestory</li>
<li>If no one listens to you, that's permission to say whatever the fuck you want.</li>
<li>When you can get comfortable out of your "zone" and sit well with embarrassment, you're a rock star. </li>
</ul>
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*Creativity prompt: Write a story in a genre that you never ordinarily read. Just try it. Then read a bit in that genre and see how close you came. </div>
Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-60251259227765064492016-07-12T15:23:00.000-05:002016-07-12T15:32:45.739-05:00A Month of Observations, July 2016: Part 10The last two weeks have been confusing. Human behavior is confusing. It's why we need art and meditation, poetry and stories. I'll just dive right in today and see where this goes.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Serrano peppers are hotter than they look. Take note.</li>
<li>Trends move so fast now that you can wait pretty much anything out without much effort.</li>
<li>Patience is not passivity.</li>
<li>Orange is the New Black is a great show (I really didn't think it would be).</li>
<li>People buy more guns when there are shootings, and more guns mean more shootings. That's math. </li>
<li>Pokemon Go is all the craze, and a million copycat apps will be there to claim similar appeal when it fizzles (it's a good idea, and I suppose this is more of a prediction than an observation).</li>
<li>When your ceiling caves in on your couch, you can see it as a horrible thing or an opportunity to get a cuter couch (see: cute red couch).</li>
<li>Going home is unpredictable. I spent ten minutes looking around, trying to show my husband the way to a park that had been replaced with condos over a year ago.</li>
<li>Serrano peppers are burning my lips right now. Excuse me...</li>
</ul>
Check out my new essay in Black Fox Mag about community and writing. <a href="http://www.blackfoxlitmag.com/2016/06/27/guest-post-writing-outreach-why-it-matters-by-jen-knox/" target="_blank">And writing communities</a>.<br />
<br />
<i style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 18.48px;"><b>Creativity Prompt</b></i><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , "trebuchet" , "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.2px; line-height: 18.48px;">: Write about an unlikely craze. It can be something as simple as gold pants or as complex as a new doctrine that has taken hold of the collective psyche. </span>Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-47190565929118847102016-06-18T12:23:00.001-05:002016-06-18T13:09:41.726-05:00A Month of Observations: Part 9As the world seems caught in a maelstrom of violence, I've been spending as much time as possible at the gym or park, listening to Thich Nhat Hanh's <i>Peace Is Every Step </i>and other similar books. In other words, I've been trying to find my center. Or hold on to it. This pervasive sadness and anger can seem too much to handle some days. I know that I'm not the only person who feels this way.<br />
<br />
One way I've found that helps is by being in nature. The heat in Texas sometimes intervenes, but I get out there when the sun is taking a break. It doesn't bring full balance, but it helps. Speaking of nature, I have one new piece out entitled <i><a href="http://lunchticket.org/our-sky-the-ocean/">OUR SKY, THE OCEAN</a></i> (written a while ago). It's based on a true story. Loosely. And it's categorized as YA fiction here. If you read it, let me know what you think.<br />
<br />
So. In interest of maintaining some consistency in this blog, here are a few observations I have for the last month:<br />
<div>
<ul>
<li>Violence invites more violence, which only leads to further violence. We are NOT all the stars of our own action movies, as some will have us believe. </li>
<li>Getting "revenge" on animals is about as productive as getting revenge on the weather. </li>
<li>Many of the people of San Antonio are gracious and compassionate, even in the face of pure hatred. </li>
<li>Conversely, the service at TxDPS and DMV sites can be a litmus test for calm and tolerance.</li>
<li>When it comes to long-form writing, starting small is the way to reach the finish line (the paragraph-long goal beats the few-page goal and usually results in just as much writing)</li>
<li>Sushi is fun to make and so incredibly cheap. </li>
<li>According to this article in Electric Lit, the top earners in writing can bring in more than I expected (and less than I made as a bagger at an Ohio grocer): https://electricliterature.com/what-writers-earn-money-c109bfb04d3d#.h3hwh6fq7</li>
<li>Piggybacking on that last one, it often seems that the more noble the profession, the less one is paid, but I think this will have to change because do-gooders/teachers/social workers know how to make shit happen with few resources and no time. Watch out! </li>
<li>Varying a diet is better than eating the same thing every day. (Obvious one, but I need to remind myself.)</li>
<li>Reading YA is surprisingly gratifying as an adult. (Just finished Pigman and Made You Up - Recommend both.)</li>
<li>Taking one's own advice can seem damn-near impossible sometimes.</li>
<li>I could discuss The Lobster for days on end and get nowhere, so don't try to discuss it with me. </li>
<li>Small acts of kindness, even as small as a smile, can stick with others. Kindness is just as contagious as violence. </li>
</ul>
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Have a peaceful week.<br />
<br />
Prompt: Stop watching the news for a full day, then free-write. Free-write again after a day you've been following all the news (internet or TV).<br />
<br />
xo Jen</div>
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Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-87272645306262161352016-05-04T11:13:00.005-05:002016-05-09T18:37:58.799-05:00Reflections from Prague: 2016<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i><b>At the airport on the way home:</b></i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prague Castle</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Would you like anything else? Beer?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">“No.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">“How about a beer?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">“No thanks.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sighs. “200 CZK.” Looks to husband. “Beer?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So ended our trip to Prague. I’ll miss the city so much it hurts, and I don’t even drink beer.
Meanwhile, I now know more than I ever thought I would about the four-ingredient intoxicant that was once made of a mere three ingredients
(yeast being the late-arriver). I know that those in the Czech Republic drink
more beer per capita than anywhere else in the world (though this isn’t
tinkered with craft brews made for potency alone). I know that
most restaurants in Prague serve beer two ways: light or dark, and in two
sizes: big or bigger. Again, I don’t drink beer, but I have a new appreciation
for its rich history thanks to </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">the beer museum.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheonTjvAuO-i5XL3q2Ko-18ZejsJ_XSf1RGhITKXc9Kv7QUJykM5-pW1-8KrgWP13NVVdeoAJIIjD3JpRZ0BJuPqhnPm78G08fhmnmkXhrmlbu9dqhVdS3SaXuiQl364LVlrKIFlgG38lJ/s1600/13087103_10154080042089400_7009476291609946689_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheonTjvAuO-i5XL3q2Ko-18ZejsJ_XSf1RGhITKXc9Kv7QUJykM5-pW1-8KrgWP13NVVdeoAJIIjD3JpRZ0BJuPqhnPm78G08fhmnmkXhrmlbu9dqhVdS3SaXuiQl364LVlrKIFlgG38lJ/s200/13087103_10154080042089400_7009476291609946689_o.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me at the John Lennon wall, post-goulash</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If you're considering going to Prague and you happened upon this blog, do it! Do it now! Do it for the following reasons: the clothes, the odd fascination with Culture Club, the thirty-year old music videos constantly playing, the Powder Tower, the Roman bathhouse style of fitness clubs in the basements of hotels, the beer, the architecture, the artisans on the Charles Bridge, the view from the Astronomical Clock, Slav Island, the history, the food (no diets allowed, unless you're like seven feet tall), the chocolate museum, the black light theaters (I only made it to intermission, but the experience is burned into my brain), the puppets, Kafka everything, the goulash, the portions, the conversion rates, the conversations, the castles, the bridges, the views, the John Lennon Wall, and the walking. I clocked about 25K steps a day (the one part of my phone that worked in Prague was my pedometer app) and I willfully ignored the rest of the world as I drank this city in. I suggest you do the same if you can, if only for a few days.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">Other suggestions, more on the practical side: bring good walking shoes; have your hotel call your car; try Airbnb (I have a specific recommendation if you'd like, just drop me a note); try to get off the beaten path a little; the best words to know are: ano, ne, prosím, and and děkuji (yes, no, please/check, and thank you); your money can go far, but the redundancy of the shops increases odds of impulsive purchases (and they can add up); eat goulash (have I mentioned this one already?); enjoy the other tourists as they're part of the scene; go to the top of the Astronomical Clock - it is worth it; and the tours are fine but you can also explore the city on your own. It's very easy to get around. </span><br />
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As a writer, my favorite part of the whole experience was just people watching. Prague attracts tourists from all over the world. In fact, there were very few Americans (a break from American politics!). Whether you can travel or not, other lands make for great settings for fiction, so...<br />
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<i><b>Creativity Prompt</b></i>: Research or travel to a place you've never been. Find an outdoor place to sit and people watch. People watch for at least twenty minutes before you even pick up a pen or open a computer. Then go at it. Write/draw/create for as long as you'd like. <br />
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Till next month, folks! Let us carry on with this craziness called life. In the meantime, please check out my new fiction in Sequestrum, "<a href="https://www.sequestrum.org/fiction-by-jen-knox-the-glass-city">The Glass City." </a><br />
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<span style="color: #003366;"><br /></span>Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-31176562149364645462016-04-11T16:30:00.000-05:002016-07-12T15:25:24.660-05:00A [Month] of Observations, April 2016: Part 8So here I am posting after a few extra weeks away. I realize how much I miss blogging! I miss you!!<br />
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I recently got back from Los Angeles, where I stayed with a good friend and commuted to AWP, a massive writing conference, to meet other Writers in Communities program directors as well as thirteen thousand or so writers who share my love of writing in one way or another. <br />
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I probably interacted with about sixty of those thirteen thousand, but it was enough to put my introverted brain on sensory overload. So, after a reading, a signing, and a few amazing panels, I returned to hike at Sherman Oaks then hang out with my friend and try to debrief as we ate Cheerios and listened to her pet pig snore (they can really snore). <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Black Fox Literary Magazine Table. Thanks, Black Fox!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ordering sweet potato fries with my new friend <br />
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Sara Fitzpatrick Comito and my long-time (mid/long-time) friend, Isie.</div>
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<b><i>It was fabulous. I enjoyed LA a lot. As such, I came back with some new observations about life. So, alas, here's Part 8:</i></b><br />
<ul>
<li>Tarot card readers will not always tell you what you want to hear.</li>
<li>Food is fantastic in LA.</li>
<li>Reading can be more dramatic when you need to make a quick exit after.</li>
<li>Uber works in a pinch.</li>
<li>Writing when overwhelmed is not a good idea (journaling for personal use only is).</li>
<li>Chicago has great taste in short stories (see: recent acceptances in Chicago Tribune and Chicago Quarterly Review).</li>
<li>I am not (you are not) who I know (who you know), but it's good to know good people nonetheless.</li>
<li>I need to revisit the memory palace - I'm horrible with names. And faces. Geesh.</li>
<li>Walking is medicine.</li>
<li>Comparisons are usually destructive. Then again, they also motivate. Use with care.</li>
<li>Cheerios are really great with banana and a pinch of sugar.</li>
<li>Starbucks employees are far nicer in LA than they are in San Antonio. </li>
<li>Acting is a fabulous ambition. Odds smodds. Go for it! </li>
<li>Writing: Same! </li>
<li>If you tell someone they're not going to like a thing, there's a good chance they won't like the thing. Contrarians are rare, precious creatures.</li>
<li>This list is getting too long.</li>
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<b><i>Three new story links this go-round: </i></b></div>
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<a href="http://www.cosmonautsavenue.com/jen-knox-help-wanted-in-the-midwest-on-the-bus-line/">"Help Wanted in the Midwest: On the Bus Line</a>" at Cosmonauts Ave. Basically my memoir in 500 words</div>
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<a href="http://www.cheappoplit.com/home/2016/2/12/war-muse-jen-knox">"War Muse" at Cheap Pop</a> - a dystopic presidential story</div>
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"Gather the Ingredients" at Chicago Tribune's Printers Row (ask me for a link)</div>
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<b><i>Monthly prompt:</i></b></div>
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Use yourself as a character. Only reverse everything. If you're shy, make your character gregarious and assertive; if you're skinny, give your character more volume; if you're afraid of spiders, give your character a pet spider. Just write like that for 20 minutes. It'll be fun. </div>
Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-474272343083175168.post-6288378892984022122016-03-18T09:28:00.003-05:002016-03-18T09:32:07.579-05:00The Living Museum<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">
I'm thrilled to debut <a href="http://www.cleavermagazine.com/the-living-museum-by-jen-knox/">"The Living Museum"</a> in <a href="http://www.cleavermagazine.com/the-living-museum-by-jen-knox/"><b>Cleaver Magazine</b></a>. The piece is odd. Fair warning. I wrote this story as part of a compilation I'm putting together on natural and unnatural disasters. I've done a lot of research, then thrown all research out the window to delve into a totally fictional world. Fun stuff. </div>
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I hope you enjoy it: <a href="http://www.cleavermagazine.com/the-living-museum-by-jen-knox/">http://www.cleavermagazine.com/the-living-museum-by-jen-knox/</a></div>
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<i>Image credit: </i><a href="http://www.cleavermagazine.com/the-living-museum-by-jen-knox/" style="color: #999999;"><i>amira_a on Flickr</i></a></div>
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Story link: http://www.cleavermagazine.com/the-living-museum-by-jen-knox/</div>
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If you're a writer or artist, I recommend that as a prom<span id="goog_442136805"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_442136806"></span>pt. Do a lot of research on something, then write something from the center of knowledge that is 100% fiction, that breaks all the rules and blends the absurd, the fun, the crazy, with what you choose to include from what you've learned. It can be a lot of fun. </div>
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Have a beautiful week! xo Jen</div>
Jen Knoxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14429398922307420260noreply@blogger.com2