Showing posts with label observations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label observations. Show all posts

Saturday, February 17, 2018

Observations: February 2018

I 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:

  • Silicon Valley is full of contradictions. And super nice bathrooms.
  • The value of visual art is at least 50% backstory.
  • You never know who you're talking to.
  • A needless sex scene can ruin an otherwise good move (cough ... The Shape of Water).
  • Irony is something people don't like pointed out, but it needs to be pointed out.
  • If people want rights to your image, it's not usually for a glamorous shot. :) 
  • When partying with rich people, go for the second glass of wine. 
  • Driving a van is easy, parking a van is - as feared - tough.
  • Writing is a gift, but it's a tough one to keep.
  • Nonprofits are going to have a tough go of it under this administration. As are people. I mean all people. 
  • Yoga is my jam.


Writing news: New work in The Disconnect (as the name implies, you need to go in Airplane mode to read it). More new work in Flexible Persona. This one won an award (2nd place ... I'll take it). 



Thursday, January 11, 2018

Observations: January 2018

Is anyone out there?

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.

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...

  • Resolution should not be a bad word, and resolutions should probably never include any diet-related goals. 
  • Busy people are the most reliable solely because they have momentum.
  • 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. 
  • Writers don't have a choice.
  • It's easy to lose focus when self-consumed.  
  • Mantras work, but they demand time. Same with meditation and any other mental training.
  • 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.
  • #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. 
  • Business people and artists seem to want recognition in equal measure. Likewise acceptance, respect, recognition. Same deal, different package.
  • 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. 
  • 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.)
  • Friendship is work, and it's the best work.

Writing News:

The Glass City is out! Buy a few ... you'll be glad you did.
The Best Small Fictions is out! 
Buy them both in multiples. Samples are here: http://www.americanpopularculture.com/review_americana/fall_2017/knox.htm

Friday, April 7, 2017

Observations: April, 2017

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.

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.

Some observations from last month:
  • Today's terrorized are tomorrow's terrorists.
  • If you trust that people can rise to the occasion, good or bad, they usually will.
  • Belief in one's self is easy for a day, but becomes tougher to maintain as time passes.
  • Writers need to constantly remind themselves to value their words and value their time.
  • 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).
  • Artists need to fight harder, write/create more. #resist
  • 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.
  • College lectures make me happy.
  • Human connections are everything.
  • A society is only as fiscally healthy as its people are physically healthy.
  • I should probably start journaling during these dark times. I think we all should.   
Writing News: "Lottery Days" was selected for inclusion in The Best Small Fictions 2017, 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, The Glass City 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...

"Jen Knox is a master cartographer of the human psyche. In the stories of The Glass City, 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, The Glass City 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." 
—Melissa Studdard, author of I Ate the Cosmos for Breakfast
Prompt: Start a story or a piece of art with the line/idea "I never told anyone..." Write as long as you'd like.

xo Jen

Sunday, March 5, 2017

Observations: March, 2017

A few observations for March....
  • Giving without thinking about personal gain ends up bringing personal gain.
  • 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.
  • I've meditated for over 60 days straight, and I'm just now over the angry-all-the-time stage.
  • Repetition, for all its simplicity, is probably the fastest way to brainwash large numbers of people.
  • People will only hear what they want to hear, until they see.
  • Distracting people is not difficult in the digital age. (This is what's happening while we're distracted by Twitter: https://www.congress.gov/)
  • Mobility is a blessing and a curse.
  • Magic is everywhere, but it can be condensed in story.
  • Transparency is both a blessing and a curse.
  • I cannot make myself enjoy drinking any beverage that contains bubbles.
  • Espresso, as a general rule, is far less potent than drip coffee.
  • If all adjuncts quit, the system would have to change (more of a speculation than observation).
  • Making space means creating opportunity.
  • Minds can change.
Also, a new story about coffee addiction, coffee pretension, and public speaking at The Saturday Evening Post, my favorite publication to work with.

Prompt: Pick a pic and write for 20 minutes: http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/people-culture/

xo Jen

Chapbook release

"As our children walked in circles, their children shook their heads and made their way toward another life; new ghosts remained. And w...