Seattle

I returned to San Antonio from my trip to AWP on Saturday and got right back to work.

I miss Seattle. It has a certain vibrancy. I had amazing food. My husband and I ate at Etta's Seafood where I told the waitress I wanted to lick the plate, but there were too many people there. I was not lying. I almost licked it anyway, but I resisted. I am proud of this. I met up with my undergrad professor and friend, Shannon Lakanen, at the Whisky Bar and drank the best ginger cider (I can't handle whisky) of my life. We visited the original Starbucks, the Public Market, the Space Needle, and we walked the city until our feet felt as though they were about to fall off. I read as part of the Festival of Language at Rock Bottom and the Hot Pillow at the Roosevelt, which I partially hosted but all credit goes to Joani Reese. I ate conveyor belt sushi and gourmet cupcakes. I met up with brilliant writers, including Robert Vaughan, Len Kuntz, Mia Avramut, Meg Tuite, Aaron Dietz, Bud Smith, Sara Lippmann, Bonnie ZoBell, and Karen Stefano, Bill Yarrow, Jane L. Carman, Sam Snoek-Brown, Cynthia Atkins, Shaindel Beers, Christine Fadden, and so, so many more. I lived. I enjoyed.

Meg Tuite

Bill Yarrow

Joani and Len

We ate this....

...not that

Me with the glorious Heather Fowler

I did not sleep. I did not drink too much. I did not miss my plane, and I did not spend all my time nervous or gushing or networking. I did not stress out, and I did not get sick, and I did not hide out or get bored. I did not have the chance. I enjoyed the time I spent at the conference, but more, I enjoyed Seattle.

As I return to reality, I will take this experience with me. These writers give me confidence that what we all do alone, every day, is not done alone at all.

Tranquil energy

It is just now 10 a.m. I have no fiction to share this week, and even though I should be working, I feel compelled to post about my day so far.

I did something that I wasn't sure I could do this morning--I meditated for 2 straight hours. It was a group meditation that began at 4:30 a.m. and ended with grounding in the form of tea and cookies after 6:30 a.m. I have never meditated longer than 30 minutes, and usually I only do so for about 10 minutes. It's funny, but I could have sworn the 2 hours went by quickly. When we were done, I thought there was an hour to go. I suppose maybe I lost time somewhere inside my mind. Though my legs fell asleep and I had to readjust a few times, I believe I was never that uncomfortable.

If you know me, staying still for a movie or show is hard enough. When I started meditating, I had quite a bit of trouble with it, and I don't make a habit of meditating in groups. I've always felt it a personal thing. But, it was really nourishing today. When meditating this long, it seems similar to sleep. To me, it was almost as though I were in REM sleep only able to monitor it, watch it happen. I have a sizable question on my mind right now, and I found myself thinking that through without agonizing over it. I am still unsure about my answer, but I don't feel the anxiety surrounding it as much. To sum up, I recommend meditating for 2 straight hours. I doubt I'll do it again for a while, but sometimes during transitional periods, I can see it being almost necessary in my life.

So, my life being the comedy it is, my stoicism was later tested. As I walked my puppy around the 2.2 mile loop near our apartment, I felt fantastic. I felt energetic and calm, and the weather was perfect. Just as we were nearing the end of the loop, however, a large naked man caught my eye. There is a trail that divides the park so that if you only want to walk a mile or mile and a half, you can cut through. It was just as I was looking down that path that I saw the man. I happened to be speaking to my mother when I saw him, so I said, "Mom, there's a naked man in the park." I added that I'd have to call her back. The naked man bent down and slowly grabbed  his clothes after another person walked by. We shook our head back and forth as we passed each other. The naked man walked off, in the general direction of my apartment, so I asked my husband to come out. It is not due to meditation that I was not very upset by the sight of a naked man--nakedness is no big deal to me--but it did kind of bring me back to reality in a way I doubt much else could.

When I see people who have these sorts of obsessions/compulsions (which usually are not violent or correlated with rape), I feel really badly for them as well as the younger people who happen upon the sight of them. When I was studying psychology, I learned that sexual deviance is one of the easiest things to treat with talk therapy--it's a pretty straightforward reprogramming that needs done--but sadly, people rarely seek help unless forced into it. I am reporting this guy because I know there have been previous sightings in our neighborhood of him, and I do hope he gets help. I guess this is compassion.

I plan to write, if only for 20 minutes or so, after this blog. And as I began to reflect on my meditation, I realized just how much it is like writing and writing is like meditation. Writing is about examining the questions, such as: why do people do what they do? Here's to finding out and being comfortable with what I don't need to know... Here's to wishing that others figure it out, too...

Have a great week, all. Stay clothed.

Forward momentum

When my classes start, especially Spring Term, I tend to miss a blog or two. These first few weeks were insanely busy, but I have a strong group of students this go-round. I know I probably always say that I have a strong group, but this group is a collective force. Not a single student dropped below the max limit, and they're truly giving their all to the assignments so far. I hope this sustains because though a larger class means more hours of grading, I find this a beautiful way to spend my time.

I'll keep the post short, but I do have writing news. I had a publication this week: "Like Water," originally published in Flash Frontier, is up at Germ Magazine. I will be publishing more with Germ, and I think it's an amazing ePub, as reference, as inspiration, and as a literary hub.

Finally, I have two readings coming up at AWP: The Pillow Talk reading at the Roosevelt and the Festival of Language at Rock Bottom Restaurant and Brewery. More info is HERE. After AWP, I will be reading and having a release party for my forthcoming chapbook, Don't Tease the Elephants at San Antonio College (more on all this soon).

I hope you have a fantastic week. If you need me, I'll be, um, working. :)

Visiting Toledo

Ohio is embroidered into most of my fiction, largely because it is so much of who I am. This is probably why I haven't been able to stop thinking about my recent trip to downtown Toledo, Ohio (my grandmother's hometown) at the end of 2013.

In a brand new Ford Edge, my upgraded rental car (thanks to a lengthy wait at the rental agency), I drove the twenty minutes from the airport to my grandmother's home. The flight had gone well, and the smooth drive (especially when compared to my 2001 Honda with the tricky clutch) put me in a sort of daze. As did Toledo itself. The quiet of it, the empty of it. I marveled at the lack of drivers on the road and changed lanes seamlessly and without having to be strategic. It was nice in a way but also unsettling.

After visiting my grandmother and dining at a Chinese buffet that served mushy food that probably ate some of my stomach lining since, my husband and I settled into a hotel downtown. We went down to the bar/restaurant near the lobby and noticed that we were the only ones there. We took our seats and said hello to the tender, who immediately honed in on my husband's OSU shirt and said, "Ugh, Buckeyes." He was a fan of Michigan, and so a seemingly endless discussion on football began.

As I sipped a drink and looked around. Even outside, on a Saturday night mid-downtown, there was no one in sight. We were in a ghost town. I asked the man (probably rudely and probably interrupting more football talk) if it was always this empty downtown. He nodded, said something near: "Unless something major's happening downtown, it's slow." He said that there had been a comedy act here, the guy with the puppets, a few weeks prior, which brought in a few people, but usually it's more like this. "I close early a lot."

He said something about finishing school and finding a job elsewhere. He said he lived in Michigan and drove here for the work. He said a single business man owns five of the restaurants and many of the hotels downtown and that new investors are coming in because the property is so incredibly cheap, but for now there's nothing going on. When I did some research, I found a lot of the downtown properties came back to a single company, Dashing Pacific Group Ltd., which seems to have done a lot of press in 2011 speaking of big plans for the marina district that are supposed to begin soon.

In the moment, as we discussed it beside a window showing no downtown commotion, no groups of people walking by, all I could think of was the slightly more alive version of Toledo I remembered. "It's sad," I said. He agreed, said that though Detroit gets a bad rap, he figured Toledo was in a similar boat.

On Sunday, my husband and I walked against the icy winds coming off the river, and we stopped at the Imagination Station, a science center and museum that has two parabolic dishes outside to display the way sound can be focused and transmitted distances. I stood at one end and said, "It's cold," and my husband, 20+ feet away agreed in a whisper that I heard perfectly. I imagined being a kid, coming here and awed by the magic of science. It was early in the morning, and the science center was not yet open, but I wondered at its visitor rates.

The population of Toledo was 284,012 in 2012. This is down from 383,818 in 1970. The glass industry in the city, which includes companies like Libbey Glass, Pilkington, and Owens Corning, has long-defined it as The Glass City, and this seems to be more apt a title than ever. There's something fragile about the economy. The house depicted here neighbors my grandmother's home. Her near-downtown neighborhood is full of abandoned homes like this and eroding businesses that are covered in graffiti and poised for demolition.

Why am I blogging on this? Well, since being a kid and going to The Toledo Zoo, where I found magic in the holiday light displays and the care with which the community holds up its amazing art museum to the feeling of abandonment I felt at the end of 2013 (see the 2nd picture above. The skyscraper was completely gutted), I have become rather obsessed with the city as an entity. I want to write on it, to research it more if only for personal consumption. The Glass City has always and still does intrigue me as an observer and writer. Maybe nothing will come of it, maybe it will just feed my fiction, but there are definite stories to tell here, from personal accounts--such as my grandmother's--to the larger story of the city's manufacturing boom and bust and potential for resurgence.

We'll see where this goes, but one thing is for sure, this city will never leave my writing trajectory. The city has a story that needs told.

Speaking of stories, I have new fiction, "The Shape of a Star," in Connotation Press this month. It doesn't necessarily take place in Toledo, but I answered the interview questions from my hotel room that night as I looked out on the river. Incidentally, the incomparable Meg Tuite asked me to come up with a micro piece for this interview that came out quite odd. I wonder if it reflects my headspace that day. Enjoy, and have a wonderful week!

 

Here are some items of interest on downtown Toledo plans/history of The Glass City: Investing/CNN Money; Toledo Museum of Art; News on the Marina Project: http://www.13abc.com/story/23894292/toledo-mayor-elect-to-tackle-marina-project

(Im)perfect writing

With time, with focus, with a writing residency or a full-time writing schedule or a more regimented writing routine, I would write without error. I wouldn't let silly things slip by.

I make mistakes all the time. I am a mistake machine. If you read this blog regularly, you likely know this. I am revising my posts all the time after catching a missing or extra comma, a misspelled word, or a logic error. At one time, I told myself that if things were different (see above), I would appear as flawless as I imagine the best, most notable authors are. But after 15+ years of writing seriously and reading voraciously, I can honestly say that all of the above statements are untrue and flawless writing without help is impossible. Sure, I might be more productive with more time; but blunders, typos and logic errors will always be there to trip me or give me a reality check when I feel full of myself.

I have been thinking about the pang that comes after finding errors in my work, especially older work, a lot lately. I have been thinking about it because I notice it doesn't bother me so much anymore. After all, when I am at work as an editor, I don't think twice when another person makes an error. Instead, I think, well, that's because this person is human, and I move on. If there are excessive errors, I might think the person didn't put much into the work, but a few errors are inevitable. In fact, over the years I've been writing, I have found the more I read published (big press and small press) books, the less alone I feel in my flaws. Even classics sometimes are printed with errors--logic, typo and other--despite the fact that thousands have read these books.

I'm not writing this post to tell you that there's not value in revision, editing, and polishing every manuscript until it is as error-free as possible, but I am saying that if you write and you miss something, don't beat yourself up. Just write more, revise if you can, move onward and forward.

As a teacher, I notice that some of the best storytellers in my class are the hardest critics when it comes to their own writing. If they let something slip, they think they're not cut out for writing or not up to the task. You don't understand, Professor Knox, I looked this over twenty times and never saw that typo. Something must be wrong with me. I must not be cut out for this.

Not true. In fact, quite the opposite tends to be true.

I am writing this post expressly to tell writers out there to do the best they can and never beat themselves up. In fact, if you're a real writer, a writer who is true to your own voice, willing to show your flaws and, more, examine them, you're on a good track. It is those who care, who are humbled by flaws and continue to move forward, who will last in this business. And let's face it, everyone wants to be a writer, but few folks stick with it.

Writing is not easy, and it is not always rewarding in the ways we think it will be. But writing is freedom unlike any other I know, and it will pay you back for your time if you stick with it. Perfect writing, in my opinion, is a myth. Strong writing is not. Strong writing that tells a story is writing that moves its readers. Strong sentences make the reader want to continue on.

Write, rewrite, and revise. But keep telling your stories at the risk of making errors. See each error as an opportunity for growth. If you are a good storyteller, I want to read your work, but I never will if you're too busy trying to be perfect. So, if you're like me and have second guessed yourself a lot, please stop. Think about the following:

1. A strong sentence is a sentence that makes the reader want to continue to read.

2. Mistakes are lessons, and lessons are gifts. Examine them.

3. Those who tell you about your errors are helping you, whether or not you think that is their intention. Thank them.

 

 

Failure after long perseverance is much grander than never to have a striving good enough to be called a failure.

-George Eliot

Failure after long perseverance is much grander than never to have a striving good enough to be called a failure.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/perseverance.html#jDjLl1JkQu2xi5HG.99

Failure after long perseverance is much grander than never to have a striving good enough to be called a failure.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/perseverance.html#jDjLl1JkQu2xi5HG.99

Failure after long perseverance is much grander than never to have a striving good enough to be called a failure.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/g/georgeelio388825.html#ASVrK8TXwK6IgZ7W.99

Failure after long perseverance is much grander than never to have a striving good enough to be called a failure.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/g/georgeelio388825.html#ASVrK8TXwK6IgZ7W.99

Winter Solstice (Whew!)

This week has been yet another of my many, many crazy weeks in San Antonio. My electricity went out, and when I went to examine the meter, well, there was no meter. When the CPS folks came out they said it was a common thing to have your meter stolen by someone whose electricity was cut off and whose own meter had been locked. They said it takes a while to trace, so if successfully rigged, the thief will have free electricity for a short time before s/he's caught. Seems a sad crime to me, so I wasn't so much mad as thankful that I had 1. enough money to pay my own electric bill and 2. just bought the battery-powered, stick-it-anywhere INSTAbulb as a joke gift for a white elephant gift exchange at work. That thing is pretty damn handy when someone steals your meter, let me tell you. The white elephant present was promptly replaced with The Perfect Tortilla, and I was good to go until my lights were restored. In other news, the work week was stressful, and my new medication made me break out in hives all week which, as you can imagine, made me quite lovely to look at.

So Saturday eventually came. Whew! Yesterday was Winter Solstice, and it was beautiful outside, just a little cool. Chris and I went to the River Walk to see the lights and dine at Boiler House at Pearl. The food was fantastic, and the service was just shy of okay. It was a small-plate place that had an amazing quinoa with zucchini and golden raisins (soaked in Moscato, so I ordered a Moscato to accompany it). Since fancy for us is usually Outback, it was a nice treat to ourselves. I always feel somewhat awkward at really nice restaurants, mainly because I devour food as if it might run away from me if I don't. It's a bad habit and, like in many other aspects of my life, I am trying to slow it down. The lights were lovely (not in a hives way, but in a real way), and the time was wonderful. My husband has been traveling a lot lately, and my stress levels (for many reasons) have been off the charts. So our night out was especially magical.

In writing news: I'm writing a lot, looking forward to AWP, and applying to residencies where I can finish my Rattle book. More soon.

Happy Everything to All.

Tis the Season

I've had a very interesting term this year, with students completely engaged and others barely paying attention. Tis the season. I find that fall classes are often populated by more students who take creative writing "just because" than in other terms. This has been a challenge, but wow, when a student surprises his or herself after outright identifying as a non-writer, it's a great feeling. Grading is done for the term, and I'm coming up for air.

It's December 15th, and I can't believe it. Ten days till Christmas. Sixteen days till we'll bring in the new year. I'm ready. 2013 has been a year of hard work, and though this will likely continue, I plan to make some big changes in 2014.

I always find the turnover of the year an opportunity to improve myself and my situation, so I'm already looking forward to the renewal. This next year, I plan to focus on my writing more, and I have to figure a way to do so (suggestions welcome). Currently, I work an average of 60 hour weeks and write when I can. With a touch more time and focus, I am convinced I could be a very prolific novelist, so that's the goal: to make the time at any cost. As it is, the second novel is coming slowly as I write in fits and starts.

As far as publication news, I have been working with Nate Jordon at Monkey Puzzle Press to release my first chapbook, Don't Tease the Elephants, in March. I'm really excited to move forward with this because it has been a while since I've released a book and this one really represents not only who I am as a writer now but where my writing is going. Feedback is good so far, and I do hope you and the rest of the reading world consider purchasing it when it comes out. I promise it will be worth it.

I was invited to be a January featured author at Connotation Press, thanks to Meg Tuite, and I will be publishing a haunting new story there.

Also, I have just signed a contract to be part of Workers Write! More Tales from the Cubicle, which I am very excited about. That anthology will be released around the same time, in spring.

Off to write a little today before the last full work week at the day job. I wish you all a wonderful week. Happy holidays!

Today

Today needs summarized in list form.

• Got a new author pic taken (not as traumatic as I thought it'd be, and I have a few... I think I'll go with this one)
  
• Bruised my index finger pretty bad by banging it against the shower knob after running
• Did some Christmas shopping
• Took Ahti to dog park to find a pug meet-up of some sort (crazy-cool to see dozens of pugs all running around slowly, breathing loud breaths in, it seemed, unison)
• Ate some pre-packaged salad and got violently ill shortly there after
• Thought I could run it off, so tried running again, and got more violently ill (Asian salad - Tyler Farms - not saying that did it, but that's what I ate 2 hours before getting violently ill)
• Watched Sons of Anarchy, which was all about a guy getting ill after taking too many drugs, and I got even more violently ill
• Started feeling better
• Graded, graded, graded
• Started feeling even better (perhaps my students' writings have healing powers)
• Made ginger tea and began writing this blog post with all intentions of going to sleep directly after

Fun.

Well, at least I have tomorrow left in my weekend, and tomorrow my husband's returning from a business trip, so as long as I'm not violently ill, it should be a pretty damn good day.

In writing news, I had two stories published since my last post.

• Lying to Old Men, which received finalist status for The Fulton Prize and is up at The Adirondack Review.

• Beyond the Thin Line, which is up at A-Minor and is a very different, very short piece of prose/poetry.

I hope you all have a good week.

For my buddy

A short essay, "With a Shot," is at Litro Online. Thanks to Dan Coxon for the space.

Buddha in 2013, Shortly after being diagnosed with congestive heart failure.

Happy Thanksgiving

I wish you a happy holiday, full of warmth, food and family. I'm not going to dissect the meaning behind this holiday, nor will I dwell on the fact that I couldn't make it to my friend's house in Dallas as planned because the spirit of this holiday is what counts. And I am thankful for so much.

I don't have much else to say this week, but I've been wanting to collect images from my dog walks, so I thought I'd share them here. These skies (this sky? (philosophical question there)) are my Zen, and I'm thankful for them. Have a beautiful week. I'll have some writing news soon.

 

 

 



 

 

Fall writing news

Just so you know I haven't been sleeping on the job, I thought I'd take this week to share my literary updates. I had three pieces published this week, two new and a reprint, along with an interview.

Static Time is a flash fiction work up not at apt. Also, at Curly Red Stories, I am the fall featured author (how about that?!). Here I have an interview, a reprint, and a new story in honor of an old friend.

I'd love for you to read one or two of the above because I have another few pieces coming out, then I'll have a sort of dry spell as I work on longer projects.

Off to a weekend of dog walking, grading, movie watching, more grading, more dog walking, and maybe even some Christmas decorating (I know, but I can't help it) and some writing. If I'm lucky.

I wish you a fantastic week, filled with luck and good weather. -Jen

Meditating, a year later

I used to think it ironic that meditate has the word edit in it. In a way, it seems as though editing is the antithesis of peace and peace is the goal meditation. But, I'm finding the act of meditation is not a direct path to peace but one of self examination which, much like in creative writing, can lead to new realizations.

Dog walk shot VI, 2013

I've been meditating for about a year now, and the process of my practice has changed. Recently, I realized that the sitting still, breathing and repeating a simple mantra distances me from the more bothersome thoughts a little quicker than it used to. I usually have just enough time to sit for about 15 minutes a day. When I began, I thought 40 minutes a day was necessary given my levels of stress, but I'm a little more realistic now. I think this 15 minutes a day is perfect because I don't see it as another thing I need to work into my schedule (another form of stress) or as a means to an end. I simply see it as part of my life, and if I miss a day it's no big deal.

One thing I've noticed changing is that as I observe my thoughts now, and I see them in shapes. For instance, when I'm really nervous about something it seems the source of that nervousness is replayed in my head on rapid-cycle whereas when I'm upset, I can visualize the thought itself, the source, in solid but jagged lines as though in an angular and bold font. Either way, the study of thoughts become abstract and less immediate. This awareness is distance from reactive cycles, and distance is perspective, which is peaceful.

I've been extremely busy and stressed lately, and these moments of peace have been like coming home. And sometimes, in the midst of a stressful or overextended feeling, I remember that home. So a year in: I think meditation is truly valuable in my world. Thought I'd share in case you read my Every since I started meditating post on how I thought meditation may have been putting me in a bad mood. I still think it was. Maybe a person needs to get closer to the less pleasant thoughts before she can stand back again and really look at them. Stressed, yes, and busy, yes: I still am. But, with a little more perspective, I realize that I can let it all go when I need to.

Writing is another form of meditation I have a longer history with, and I haven't posted much writing news lately. I will soon. I have a new interview on my writing process at Awkword Paper Cut (my husband did the image that accompanies my answer), and I received two acceptances recently, one from A-Minor and one from apt. I have quite a few short works coming out, and I look forward to sharing them.

Have a beautiful, peaceful week. -Jen

Dog park observations

My puppy is 21 weeks old now. I managed to potty train her in two weeks, thanks to some advice from friends. This was a big win because I tried a few things I saw online and bought puppy pads (which she tore to shreds), but the only thing that worked was placing a bell the puppy could reach on the door knob, and every time she goes on the carpet, lift her paw to the bell and take her out ASAP. Soon, she started ringing it when she wanted to go out. Sure, she might ring it when she's bored and just wants to go out and look for frogs after a good rain as well, but hey, that's a better problem.

So, potty trained and old enough to get all the shots, the pup is ready for the dog park. As of two weeks ago, I was something of a dog park virgin because our last dog wasn't very social and would simply sit in the corner bored and slightly irritated by all the pushy dogs around him. Needless to say, we never stayed long. With the pup, however, the dog park is necessary. She's a social dog, and she's got energy to burn. This means I have been introduced properly now, to the culture of the dog park. I have to say, the dog park is an interesting place to watch human behavior as well as dog behavior. Seeing the love dog owners have for their pets is heartwarming, and some owners, it seems, even view their pets as an extension of themselves, apologizing profusely if the dog does something embarrassing or a bit rude and jumping up and down when the dog, say, catches a ball.

Observations and reflections from a dog park newbie:

1. My husband wore an OSU jacket. I was wearing a hoodie and jeans. It took us a few minutes to notice, and it may have been a twofold coincidence, but a good number of folks at the dog park, both times, were around couples, our age, wearing sweats or college football gear. So, apparently we're a key demographic in this area.

2. On both visits there was a guy with two out-of-control dogs, and he didn't seem willing to move an inch as he watched his dog bully another one across the way as a woman tried to break the two up herself. I thought he was a statue. I'm guessing an owner like this probably frequents all dog parks.

3. "Ooh, a puppy," was repeated a lot, and my girl got enough pets to last her a week. She loved it. Puppies are the popular dogs with other owners.

4. "Ugh, a puppy," was what I imagined the older dogs were thinking as they ran from her or played without her, or pushed her down and went on about their business. She trailed along, undeterred, and engaged whatever dog would give her a few seconds of his time.

I love the dog park, but it's an exercise in hyper-vigilance when going with a growing dog. I watched her like a hawk and worried when I saw the troublemakers get to close. An older man there told us stories about all the dog park brawls he'd seen, how one owner even flashed his service weapon as warning once. He said the one we go to has not seen gun play under his watch, so I guess we picked a good playground. So dog parks: so far, so good. Think we'll continue to take her, but we'll be those overprotective owners--never too far away but insistent she "get out there" and socialize a little, so long as we know where she is and what she'd doing.

In literary news: I haven't been writing too much because I just started teaching my Flex II course, but I am committed to NaNoWriMo this year, so I have some catching up to do. I want to write a lot and have a cool little mess to clean up later. That's my goal with it.

I got the official date for the release of Don't Tease the Elephants: March 20th, 2014. Mark your calendars. No, really, mark them! I'm putting my all into this little chap, and I think you should plan to read it.

Have a beautiful week! Cheers!

Excluding to fight exclusion?

My husband recently returned from a lengthy trip to Europe, his first trip there, and I am now the proud owner of this (right). He's been back a week, and he has great stories because his work there took him all over, from the UK to the Netherlands to Germany then Switzerland then France. Whew!

One thing his less detailed stories involved eating at a conveyor belt-served sushi place and listening to the radio. Each of these elements was interesting in their own right--the time stamps on sushi in place of time spent to order (I'd rather wait, but I get the appeal) to the nature of the radio mention.

"Oh, you'll find this interesting though," my couldn't-be-further-removed-from-the-lit-scene husband said. He went on to say that there was some announcement on the radio that a literary contest, which historically excluded US writers from entering, was now allowing American work to enter. I thought he was speaking of a short story competition, something with, say, a £50 prize. Not so much.

After conversing further, I realized he was talking about this announcement about the Man Booker prize. This announcement reached the news in September, but the fact that this prestigious competition is now planning to allow US writers has become, apparently, an ongoing discussion. Being American, I can't help but think, hey, why not let us in? There's good stuff here. Mix it up.

But I realize it's a bit more complicated. There is a theory that backs such exclusion. Regional publications are in place to strengthen community or adhere to tradition, women-only or minority-only publications say they are giving focused voice to the underrepresented gender or culture(s) in literature. Publications by any minority in the the larger scene can often be ignored, and the more people we include, the more difficult it can be sometimes for a mainstream audience to agree on what will appeal/educate/entertain/illuminate the world most for a general audience.

I see both sides, but I can't deny that everything inside me screams exclusion is counter productive, in the case of gender or culture or region. I believe, truly I believe this, that focus is good, but total exclusion is not. I feel a pang every time I read an amazing Canadian literary magazine, for instance, that I'd love to submit to, only to see I'm on the do-not-enter list.

What do you think? Will the cream rise to the top, or will voices be buried if all are included? Is the only way to fight exclusion becoming exclusionary? Or, does fighting fire with fire only make for a larger flame?

 

Bucket list distraction

Do you have a bucket list?

While trying to create my bucket list, I got distracted, got distracted again, and got distracted once more. Finally, I sat and made myself write, but I ended up with a short essay on death and a realization instead. My mind was getting stuck on the motivation behind the list. Appreciate the life I have, right? Appreciate it by living life to the fullest because I will, absolutely, undeniably, die. This thought is sticky, hard to get past.

When I read my essay, I was happy because I'm writing creative nonfiction again, and I haven't touched the genre for a long time, but I wasn't going to leave it at that. I had to try again. I researched online bucket lists, found an anti-bucket list even, and I realized I didn't have to put so much pressure on myself to get the right things on there. This list is not a sentence. I decided to just find some cool things I wouldn't mind doing and list those. Here's what I came up with:

Learn and memorize a dozen really funny jokes
Visit the Tunnels of Light in Japan
Go on a writing retreat outside of the US
Write a book that calls attention to Toledo, Ohio
Learn enough Spanish to hold a conversation; same for French
Read a book in Spanish (any suggestions?)
Read a book in French (any suggestions?)
Zipline over the San Diego Zoo Animal Park
Read the 150 or so books I have on my to-read list, beginning with the classics because I haven't read enough of those
Run a 10K as an adult
Continue to teach, in some capacity, forever
Help, in some real way, a young woman who went through similar obstacles as I did
Live outside of the US for at least six months
Write a book that will change its reader
Dress up as Tina Turner and sing "Simply the Best" (I'm doing this tomorrow, so I thought I'd cheat and put it on the list so I have something to cross out tomorrow.)
Stop being hard on myself, but not completely
Find people who will play chess with me
Read more poetry
Learn to implement all the neat relaxation techniques I know
Be more supportive of friends
Laugh more--laugh at myself more
Work on my dog training skills

This list is nowhere near complete, but it's a start. If you do have a list of your own, por favor comparta.

Uno Kudo 3 is Out

 

 I am thrilled to have a brand new piece of fiction, Animal Control, in Uno Kudo Volume 3. It was just released. The story is funny and a little crazy and, of course, set in Ohio. UK3 is a compilation of literary and visual art. Proceeds go to  PEN International, to support artists worldwide.

This stunning book is available in PDF and in a hard copy. The work in here is really outstanding, thanks to a lot of amazing art and the tireless reading and editing by Bud Smith, Aaron Dietz, and Erin McParland. I'm proud to be a part. The paintings shown here, which accompany Animal Control, are by Deedee Cheriel.

So support the arts by reading and looking at art. Experience the art. Check out Uno Kudo 3*!

*There is adult content in the cover of this book, so please don't follow the links if you have gymnophobia or are offended by nudity in art.

Bucket lists and ruined carpet and other stuff

The puppy is peeing on the carpet. I take her on so many walks every day, I always think there's no way she'll have any pee left, but I turn my back for a second and she squats. "But you just went?!" It's crazy-making. I know she's just a baby and her muscles are still developing and she lacks, well, restraint, but I also don't want my house smelling like a urinal. I Google-d different training methods, read what Cesar Millan had to say, read what his critics had to say, but the most promising suggestion (I think) came from a friend. I bought a bell from a craft store, threaded it to make a sort of necklace, and hung it on the door. Whenever I see the puppy squat or see a fresh wet spot, I immediately take her to the bell and move her paw to ring it before taking her out. I hope this works. When my buddy died, I said I'd never get another dog. A month later... here I am. But bad pee habits or no, I'm glad I didn't stick to my words. This girl is bringing me so much joy, she's high-energy and that energy is addictive, and I'm so happy to have her a part of our home.

Since my husband is in Europe for work for a few weeks, I figured this would be a good time to write. I will be working on the Rattle novel primarily, which is taking a different feel than I originally intended, but I've been wanting to write another essay lately--I wrote one after my last dog passed away, and it reawakened my love of the form.

I was talking to a (different) friend--we were basically daydreaming out loud after a long day--and she said, partially joking, that she wanted to move to ABQ and start a hot air balloon business. She told me about the Balloon Fiesta that is going on there now. I need to add that to my bucket list, I said, and when I said it I realized that I didn't have one. My friend is a writer as well, and this short conversation prompted us to come up with a creative nonfiction prompt we both committed to complete:

The piece revolves around bucket lists, so it begins with making one. The piece will be lyrical, sectional: a short piece of writing for each list entry. The challenge is twofold: to come up with the list and to connect it in a unique way.

I bring this prompt up because so far this is the hardest writing assignment challenge I have ever had. I have bucket list block. The balloon fiesta looks pretty badass, so that's one. The rest of the list is empty. If I can manage to complete it, I'll post next week.

In writing news, I wrote a very, very short on the theme Rescued piece for Flash Frontier (there are a lot of wonderful, short pieces here). I'm pretty happy with it. Also, my husband's art is featured at the top of the site.

I also had a short piece accepted to Litro Online about my buddy. This is the first nonfiction piece in a long time, so I'm thrilled to share it. One of the most personal pieces I've ever written. It should be out in November.

Have a beautiful week, folks.


***12/22 Update: The bell worked like a charm. Took about two weeks of consistent reminders, and we have new problems now, but we haven't had an accident in a long time.

On puppies

Ahti, 4 months

Last weekend my husband and I went to the Humane Society for the second time to look at a Black Mouth Cur mix named Jo.

In a matter of hours, we'd renamed her Ahti due to her love of water and signed paperwork declaring ourselves her people.

I'm learning a lot as a puppy mom. For instance, puppies are nothing like adult dogs (my buddy was 3 when we adopted him). Puppies adopt good habits and bad habits equally fast. Puppies can learn to shake and sit for treats in less than two days (is there a doggie Mensa?). Meanwhile, when an owner is not looking, puppies eat walls and shoes and destroy carpets. Training treats are the best things in the world. Puppies need to be led on walks or they will walk in circles. Puppies roll around in grass to acquire an older dog's scent, which means puppies roll around in areas where they smell older dogs, which means puppies roll around in older dog urine. It was cute till I found out why. Finally, air conditioning units can be like giant monsters to a puppy, so instead of thinking she's clumsy, look around at what could possibly be scaring her.

So far, so good. I rather love her.

One bit of news in writing to share: The amazing people at The Burrow Press Review nominated "The Suit" for Sundress Publication’s Best of the Net Anthology. We'll see what happens, but I'm super honored just to be nominated for inclusion. I love that story, so I'm glad it's getting the chance. Read it again or for the first time here.

Forget the week, I just want to talk about today

Writing News:

I am thrilled to share an excerpt from my novel at WIPs! Although I'm not under contract for this book-to-be yet, I really believe in the story. Hopefully it will find its way to print soon. Huge thanks to Roland Goity who has offered my work such a fine stage. He also interviewed me about the project here: WIPs Conversation.

"After the Gazebo" (originally published in ARDOR) was highlighted at The Original Van Gogh's Ear Anthology. This story has grown legs and walked off. I love it.

I have a few stories forthcoming that are short and punchy, so I'll post soon. In the meantime, no other news but I am writing my butt off. Still no title for this next novel, but it's coming together little by little. I've decided to be a full-time writer even though I also work a 9-5 and a part-time job. I haven't done the math yet, but I'll let you know how that goes.

Personal News:

Horrible week, so I'll just focus on today. The glory of small things: I have post-Zumba pain. I know I'm a bit late to the Zumba craze, but it's really fun.

OSU is playing. Chris is painting in front of the TV. We're having a very relaxing, low-key weekend. I ran this morning, slowly. Chris and I ate at a Greek restaurant today, and I accidentally dropped my silverware. The fork fell out, bounced off the table and slid across the floor. Then I made a mess trying to get the cucumber sauce off my plate without getting it on anything. I was not kicked out, so that's a win.

Later, I walked a bit while talking to my Dad on the phone and watched a lady talk to squirrels for a good minute as I waited to cross the street. I said hello to her, but she didn't have any holler for me. I am not a squirrel.

Such is life. Enjoy the week, folks.

Monsters

This week, a new publication launched: A cappella Zoo 11. I wrote a story about little monsters that save people's lives in unpleasant ways. The short story shares the tentative title of my novel, but it is not an excerpt. It is it's own world, to say the least. If you order ($6), I hope you enjoy.

Today, we plan to go to the Humane Society. Both my husband and I were secretly looking at the postings of dogs that need homes, and when we each realized the other was doing it too, we decided that we would at least look. We'll see what happens.

I wish you all a wonderful weekend. If you write, check out my updated site. I
am working toward making a very long list of writing prompts there, for my own reference, for writers, and for students. If you know of any great prompts, please let me know. I'll add your name to the prompt, if you'd like. I want favorites, friends' favorites, and the best ones found in writing books. I plan to add little by little until I have at least 100.

To a beautiful start to fall. Cheers (tips the Spicy V8)!

-Jen