Driving through, in the midst of chaos

At the Eastfield Literary Festival with
Meg Tuite and JP Reese

I returned yesterday, late. To the right is a post-reading pic from the Eastfield College Literary Festival. It was an amazing time and, more, I had amazing company.

JP Reese (left) is a poet and prose writer; she read Wednesday night and again on Thursday with me and Meg. I had the pleasure of being there for both readings. This woman is dynamite. Read her. I learned a lot from watching her work the mic, introducing each poem with a charmingly-told, emotionally-rich story that offered the audience a private glimpse into her writing process and life, and this is such a gift.

Meg Tuite (right) came just before the reading, and though I didn't have much time with her, I was starstruck. Tuite is a flash master, and her reading was dynamic in that she had everything. Everything! Her stories covered topics and perspectives as wide ranging as the graphic nature of the dairy industry to a pondering of life and illness and strength to a humorous portrayal of a Wonder Woman admirer, delightfully awkward and endearing. Hilarious.

It was a pleasure reading with these ladies, and hanging out with them, however fleetingly. I'm always too busy. With class, work, writing, and home, I never seem to stay at the good stuff long enough. This is something I need to work on. Claiming my time. Because times like these last two days are invaluable. I'm realizing that more and more as I age: the good must be soaked in.

But as I made the long trek back from the reading, I passed the site of the explosions in West, Texas. As I drove home, I heard more news about the terrorism in Massachusetts. As I drove home, I became overwhelmed.

This week, the news has appeared an episode of Homeland. The sensationalism of the reportage has been over the top, as has the actual news and speculation. Unbelievable chaos and sadness. Who knows how to act? What to say?

The Watertown and Boston area make a strong community; I got that from the news, the people, and after unreal shoot-outs, after the Watertown community was on lock-down for a day, after his standoff on a boat with no one able to see what the remaining terrorist had on him, things are beginning to come back together. They've determined that the remaining suspect is in custody, so the town can begin to heal. But healing must be allowed to occur, and I'm not sure over-reportage is allowing that to happen.

Converse to the sensationalism of the Boston terrorism is another tragedy, the story buried here in the SW. What a horrible time for the good people of West, Texas near Waco. The explosions were were the result of a fertilizer plant malfunction that made the plant blow up, along with nearby homes and people. This accident killed and injured so many people in this small town, stealing from them their homes and possessions.

DFW Scanner on Facebook

On my way driving back from the reading yesterday, I looked for the site and didn't see it. I got stuck in traffic and distracted, began wishing an STD on the driver of the SUV that had just cut me off, then I started thinking about how amazing my life is, and how lucky I was. I slowed down, took back my mean and rather demented wish. He could have the lane.

As I drove, the radio switched from song to the host asking for residents from nearby towns (I was near Waco) to come out and donate anything they had. A caller asked if they needed clothes and the announcer replied (paraphrasing a little): Anything! They'll even need tampons, so throw some of those in, too, girl.

And though it was this one comment, so simple and a little off-center, it was this moment that really struck me. Imagine: to be suddenly be in need of such simple items.

It is now time to heal. But to heal, to support those healing, we have to empathize by asking the tough questions. Can you imagine having so little, so suddenly? Can you imagine being on lock-down in your own home, fearing your life? Can you imagine losing it all in an instant?

I can. I really can. All the more reason to soak in the truly good times.









*Donations for West are coming in from the Red Cross and local charities.
*Donations for the victims and those whose lives have been and are impacted by this terrorism can be given at http://special.patriots.com/offers/index.cfm?UUID=NEPCFDonations and many other places.

$2 lotto ticket

I promised some lit news, so here's that:

New piece in Monkeybicycle: "Don't Tease the Elephants" Thanks, Steven Seighman, for printing my work. I'm honored. This story is particularly special to me because it stars a character I've been using a lot since I was in Vermont. His name is Rattle, and he'll be a regular in a few of my forthcoming fiction publications.

I had an audio piece accepted to Bound Off, which I'm really excited about. Though I'll be reading it myself, and I still have a hint of bad kid from the Short North in my voice--but hey, take it or leave it.

I finally queried an agent. Well see... I'm expecting crickets, but that's one query. One is a start.

I have a piece in Obit, entitled Unlike Loss. Thanks, Matt Potter at Pure Slush! I've worked with Matt a few times, and he is a forward-thinking editor. Glad to be a part of a new collection of his.

My reading at Eastfield College with Joani Reese and Meg Tuite is this Thursday! If you're in the area.... Literary & Fine Arts Festival

And my reflection/confession/whatever for the week:

This week has been interesting. I'm so busy that I have no time to write this blog. I'm so busy that I have no time to write anything else or do a thorough job of any of my work. And yet, I've written and I've blogged, and I think I've done a pretty thorough job of most of what I need to work-wise.

I'm currently taking a break from grading my creative writing students' stories. They're good, which encourages me, and more, they're diverse. This is invaluable feedback to me, as a teacher, because it means that they're finding their own voices. That's one of the most important things, and one of the toughest to balance as a teacher of creative things. After all, how do you teach creativity? I think the secret is, you encourage and offer both suggestions and space.

One of my best students is going through an incredibly tough time and not complaining one bit; he is giving this class his all, and it shows. This student has inspired me already. Meanwhile, I have a few students that are MIA most of the time. I will never understand this, perhaps because I had to work so hard to get to and stay in college. The ones that don't work hard might not realize how valuable this time is. Perhaps they'll come around. I have noticed this a little more in spring than fall courses. I wonder if there's something to that.

My frustration got me thinking about when I was working through college. Personally, I loved school, but along with rent it broke the bank. I remember being in need of more dental work than I could afford along with my books one summer; I was short even on the payment plan my dentist offered. I walked out of the office after scheduling the follow-up appointment that I needed, but I was sure I'd have to cancel. At a convenience store, something compelled me to buy an Ohio State Lottery scratch-off ticket. And no measly $1 deal either; I bought a $2 ticket. I scratched it off and won about $300, which was enough to cover my first payment. I remember thinking how lucky I was. I still think that. Not everyone is. 

In other news, my dog is doing well on his medication still, and the vet said that he's responding as well as possible. He could be with us (with good quality of life) for quite a few months. She also warned that things could get suddenly worse. But for now, we're enjoying life. Between the vet appointments, tests, and medications, we've spent a lot of budgeted money this month. We're broke (not broke in the same way I was in college, but another kind of broke). But, much like my lotto ticket timing, I got unexpected good news. A promotion at work! Assistant Editor to Associate Editor. Right on time and quite unexpected (I had expected a small cost of living increase). Such give and take seems serendipitous, like the current version of my lotto days. Anyway, right now I'm not forgetting; the gratitude is there.

Have an amazing week! And read that Rattle story if you have time. I'm pretty proud of it. And there will be more to come...

Lessons (re)learned this week

Massive amounts of water can cure a headache
When the pectoral muscles grow tight, it's felt in the shoulders
Some stories sound better than others when read aloud, and this doesn't necessarily make them better
A martini with well liquor is a horrible thing
I am not good at photographing food
A bad mood can last a week straight if properly nurtured with negative energy
People will move, and move, and move, and this is difficult when one is still
Meditation takes dedication
There is nothing more rewarding than prompting a person to learn s/he loves to read
The corporate model does not work in academia
Emotion is there for a reason
Patience is an art
Writing is a privilege
Honesty is not always pleasant
Sushi is addictive
I do have a favorite literary magazine, by far
Nothing is ever perfect, no matter what
Reply All can be both embarrassing and enlightening
The outer membrane of a jellyfish is called an umbrella 
Light weights, when lifted regularly, can create  quite a bit of solidity and strength

Lessons learned (some for the third or fourth or twenty-third time).

I'll post about writing next week. In the meantime have a beautiful week!

Moving forward

Springtime means change and transition. Here in San Antonio, the springtime also means it will soon be hot, triple-digit hot, and that we'll start hearing about rationing water; likely, we'll notice less water pressure in the shower, and we'll walk on crunchy brown grass as we hope for rain. There is always the beautiful with the bad though. And here, that means wildflowers. Southeastern San Antonio has a few spots that are abloom right now, according to my research, so a short weekend drive is definitely in order. When you live somewhere flat (Ohio) or dry (Texas), somewhere with no water or mountains nearby, you have to find the natural beauty where you can.

My dog is stable. He's actually really active in the mornings and has been jogging a little on his walks. I'm not sure if I should discourage this, but I say he should enjoy his life, so a little jog here and there is a good thing. He's loving his new all-natural diet, and all the attention he gets being a patient (not to mention all the chicken he gets that we wrap around the 5.5 daily pills he takes for his heart).

I got off work a little early today thanks to Good Friday and a kind boss. So, after I check my Alamo email for messages from my creative writing students, I'm going to workout, then relax and spend this weekend with my family; and since last weekend was robbed from me by a serious cold, I plan to live it up. I hope you do the same. Start it off by reading "When Pretty People Disappoint" (more below).


Writing News:

• I got a rejection yesterday, and one on Monday, but both were positive. The try-us-again sort of rejection, not just the best-of-luck-elsewhere type. So I'll take those as wins.
• I have a new piece in JMWW (mentioned above). I hope you read it. My good friend JP Reese is in there, too (nice surprise), along with Jules Archer and Len Kuntz. Great work, all. I really love JMWW, and am thrilled.
• I have not looked for an agent (will I ever?) but am still thinking about it
• I have a completed a full-length short story collection, so there's that. Guess it's a good reason to revisit the above bullet.
• I was Finalist in yet another Glimmer Train Competition. This makes four finalist status reports there since I began writing. 
• I will soon be reading in Eastfield for the Eastfield Literary Arts Festival. More on that soon.
• I got the paperback copy of Oh Sandy, and it's amazing. It's for a good cause, so if you buy it, know that you're helping victims of Sandy who are still suffering in New Jersey. But also know, this book will make you laugh. There's some great stuff in there.

Happy Good Friday, Happy Easter, Happy April Fool's, and Happy Spring!!!!

Here and there

WRITING NEWS:

Oh Sandy: An Anthology of Humor for a Serious Purpose is an anthology masterminded and executed by Lynn Beighly, Peter Barlow, and AJ Fader. All proceeds from this book are going to help victims of Sandy, who are still suffering and no longer thought about by the larger world. The slant here is to bring humor to catastrophe because, well, if we can't laugh at disaster it destroys us. I've begun reading it, and it's really a great collection full of heart and diverse in voice; more, it's damn funny. I'm pretty proud of the piece I wrote for it also, "Movie Night," which prior to being included here was a finalist for Glimmer Train's Award for New Writers under the name "The Hero."

I am currently shopping two stories, both of which I really love. I've begun researching agents. And that's the extent of my writing news for this week. 

OTHER NEWS: 

Life itself is what it is. My dog is getting a sort of second wind right now. After I posted last, we got even more dismal news about his condition, that his heart disease was pretty far along and he officially had congestive heart failure. But, we're doing what we can. Thanks to a pricey combination of water pills, Vetmedin, and Enalapril, he even jogged a little this morning.  I am thankful for these pills. (And this coming from the woman who wouldn't even take an aspirin unless I was doubled over in pain.) Thank you, pricey pills, for giving my buddy a little more time. Of course, we're taking natural measures, too. We've removed all high-sodium foods and treats from his diet and started feeding him more whole ingredients. I found a good article on making your own dog food which, given prices of the good stuff, I might start doing. Anything to give him quality of life for a while longer.

I'm ready to begin teaching a new creative writing class on Monday, so it'll be busy, busy... Hope your week is busy with the good things.
  

Appreciating every wind

I received my dog's diagnosis today, and I had to write about it.

Buddha was named almost immediately after my husband and I adopted him because he was so incredibly stoic. Let me just say that this dog is the best. Whose dog isn't, I know, but really... he's perfect. He doesn't bark. He's a lapdog. He's a cuddler. He's a little hesitant of other dogs, but loves people, cats, and (unfortunately) possums. Ever since I got him, I've taken him on long walks every morning and afternoon. He gets a short walk at night. During these walks, he moves slowly, and when there's a cool wind here in South Texas, he stops walking and puts his nose up to feel the fresh air hit his face. Buddha loves life, and has a habit of relaxing into it--so much so that I have had to tug him sometimes because I have to get to work.

We found out that Buddha has a heart murmur a year or so ago, and the vet told us that this was the result of the heart worms he had when we adopted him. About two weeks ago, we noticed Buddha was more laid back than usual. And when the day came that he refused his treats, we scheduled an appointment. After lots of expensive testing, we've determined that he has heart disease, and judging from the enzymes in his blood and his X-rays, it's moderate. His heart is giving out as mine breaks.

I've read a lot about this, and I am taking steps to get Buddha healthier. My husband and I switched his food to Blue Buffalo Senior, which doesn't add all the sodium that his previous food does. We have him on a diuretic to help relieve the pressure on his heart, and we've switched out his treats. More, my buddy is now getting to stop and enjoy the wind all he wants. 

While we walk now, I realize that my having to tug might have often been because Buddha just needed to catch his breath and embrace the moment. So now we walk a little slower; and with our fragile hearts, we enjoy every second. We leave earlier so that we can pause and engage every wind. 

I've read that some dogs can live a good while, outlast the odds, with the right lifestyle, and we're shooting for that. If you have any advice, please let me know. I know to listen to the vet first, but I also know to go beyond and learn as much as I can because this is how you defy the odds. And defying odds is what this guy is all about. 

Try if you must

When I was eight, I started running street races, from 5K to 5 miles. I hated running when I first started. It was my father's idea, and a way to get me out of my shell. I felt it obligatory and ridiculous, but I also started getting recognition—the trophies rolled in for the 10 & under category. People were easily impressed by me because I was super small and super goofy looking with my bright red hair, odd fashion sense, and hexagon glasses (the picture below depicts a good fashion day for me), and I was finishing these races. I'm not sure the running itself brought me out of my shell, but it did teach me a lot about the difference between doing a thing because you love it and doing it because it's what you're supposed to and it brings you recognition. It also, oddly, taught me a lot about the value of kicking back. 

I bring this up because I have been thinking a lot about writing and what motivates people (both who identify themselves as writers and those who don't) to do it. I came to writing in the opposite way that I came to run competitively. I just started writing because I loved it—no one asked me to, there was no secondary goal—and I could care less if anyone else read what I wrote because the process was in of itself a reward. It seemed to offer the same sort of healthy escapism that reading did when I wrote fiction and something more transcendent when I tackled nonfiction. It became a way to let it out, whatever it was from day to day.

For some (some would argue the lucky ones, but I’d say the durable and hardworking ones), writing begins to be recognized. It wins the writer awards and becomes a sort of performance sport as solicitations come in and the writer's end goal suddenly becomes publication. I recently began thinking again about trying to find an agent and really holding back any work from being published online for a while, and I'm thinking this because I am rather tired of the submission process. I want to write for the writing's sake for a while. At least for a few months, to see how it goes, and I know I need to relax in order to do so.

Running those races was always nerve shaking to me, and though I would feel good after the race most of the time, I also became overly obsessed with collecting trophies and beating my last time. As I got older, the trophies became harder to earn. I began straining my body by pushing myself in training and I found myself worrying for nights leading up to each race. I studied techniques and cross-trained. I did it all, and still, I seemed to be losing ground. Each race was more frightening and more disappointing than the last. I was getting a little faster, but the world around me was getting much faster.

The day finally came, one race day morning, when I decided I didn't give a damn. I woke up and made the conscious decision to take it easy. My father and I arrived at the Tomato Town Trot, a five mile race that was becoming an annual tradition, and I felt no nerves because I had decided that this race didn’t count. I didn't worry about placing in the race, and I didn't think about my time. I just ran. I talked to other runners, and I enjoyed the scenery. 

I had run many races by that time, and I had never enjoyed any part except crossing the finish line. Well, that and the ceremony at the end. Running was work. It was serious business. I never accepted water from the sidelines because I knew drinking water would take precious seconds off my time. I was focused and caught up in the competition. But this race, for the first time, I took the water. Hell, during the Tomato Town Trot, I even walked for a moment to drink my water. It was like I wasn't even trying. I finished that race in well under 40 minutes. This had been my goal for over a year, I was ten, and I'd finally done it. This was the race in which I began to enjoy running.

In a way, I think it's important to find this point in a writing career, where it's not about stockpiling publications, but writing for writing's sake. At least it's important for me. Perhaps it’s a good way to look at life in general. I welcome publication, and will continue to share my work with those interested as I'd hope writers whose work I enjoy and admire will, but my goal when writing is only to write. And I think in making this decision consciously, a writer can somehow manage to both kick back and move forward.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!!! 

Oh, and since I was at the Spurs game last night: Go Spurs Go!!!

I wish you all a beautiful week.