Blogetary (Weblog + Commentary = Blogetary)

Saturday, the 26th of April, was my birthday. I thought about going to the LA Times Festival of Books on that day. There were a lot of good panels I wanted to take advantage of, but ultimately that felt like work; I felt like playing on my birthday. Instead, I decided to go to the LATFOB on Sunday, the 27th.

Because the celebration of my mother’s labor lasted all day on Saturday and I wanted to be on campus first thing on Sunday, I decided to stay the night where I had been celebrating so I could catch an easy ride up to UCLA with Chandra and David, a friend who had offered to give us a lift since he was going up there, too.

By the time we got to campus, about 9:45 AM, it was already warm and the air conditioned lecture room for my first panel at 10 was a welcome relief. The first panel was called The Outer Limits and was on Horror and Science Fiction. One of the scheduled panelists was Raymond Feist. He couldn’t make it because of a family emergency. David Brin was also unable to make it. Instead we got Harry Turtledove. Not too shabby, eh? And the other two original panelists Kevin J. Anderson and Joe Hill. It was a very illuminating hour and I wish it would have lasted longer (and NOT because it was an air conditioned room). The moderator was Nick Owchar who wrote a recap of the panel here (probably better than mine, but I’m going to give you my notes anyway).

Outer Limits Notes:

One of the first questions Owchar asked was did anyone on the panel think that more people were reading science fiction since 2001. Had the audience expanded? Harry Turtledove didn’t think so, but I think he was only thinking in terms of books sold and possibly in terms of just “science fiction” and not the whole of speculative fiction. Joe Hill pointed out the proliferation of speculative movies and television stories since 2001, but especially since the the 70s when Star Wars first came out. According to the scratchings in my notebook, I believe it was Kevin J. Anderson who pointed out that the walls were going down in speculative fiction or science fiction. He was thinking that people were reading it and watching it, but didn’t realize it. For example, people don’t think of 24 as science fiction, but it is. Joe Hill also jumped in and pointed out how many crossovers there were in mainstream literary writers writing fiction with speculative elements and many science fiction and fantasy authors writing mainstream fiction.

An interesting remark that Joe Hill made during this discussion was that metaphor, especially in speculative fiction, is a very strong tool. He used the word “weapon”. I thought that was an interesting way to put it. And why wouldn’t a writer not want to use the arsenal of tools and weapons available in the speculative fiction locker (so to speak). I think I remember Kevin J. Anderson, or maybe it was Joe Hill, pointing out that mainstream fiction already is fantasy – it’s already a figment of the author’s imagination. So the idea of “realism” is just for people who aren’t secure reading “let’s pretend” stories. They’re all “let’s pretend” stories. Right? Harry Turtledove pointed out that fiction, especially science fiction, is a tool that the writer uses. I hope I got this quote right: “The fiction you write is not about the world you’re writing in, it’s about the world you live in.” It’s a tool used to help us understand all this. He further pointed out that science fiction has the tools to help the writer look at the real world through a fun house mirror.

Joe Hill told us all to “Let your freak flag fly.” I think that has got to be the best quote of the panel.

After this intense discussion, Owchar asked about books that the writers read. Now, I’m a lame reporter and didn’t write down what the panelists were reading, I was more interested in their remarks. Kevin J. Anderson, who is a very prolific writer, pointed out he writes more books per year than he reads. And he made a point of saying the following to the audience (I think he could tell there were some writers in the audience) so I think I should make a point of writing it down: He spends all of his time writing, research, proofreading, and revising. He works ALL the time. He reads at night in the tub. Other than that, he’s working. And it shows. Joe Hill quoted James Elroy: “Good cops make for bad fiction.”

Somehow we segued into why these writers write what they write. Harry Turtledove said that after getting a PhD in Byzantine history, the most he could do was ask if people wanted fries with that. So he started asking “what if”. He writes alternative history stories. Kevin J. Anderson said his writing teachers didn’t know what to do with him. He was taking creative writing at a small college in Wisconsin. He was working as a bartender to earn money for college. His classmates all wrote really boring short stories about couples breaking up over the breakfast dishes. He was writing about battles in outer space between space ships. His professor asked him why he didn’t write about being a bartender in a small town. Anderson couldn’t understand why he should write a boring story that not even he would find interesting and it was his life. He wanted to write what he liked to read. Joe Hill said that he spent a lot of time writing the “breakfast dishes” stories and submitting them to periodicals. Everyone liked his writing, but they weren’t excited about his stories. His girlfriend (now wife) pointed out one night that one of his stories wasn’t really about anything. (She’s one of his first readers now – in fact all the panelists chimed in with the fact that their wives were their first readers and greatest critics). Eventually he realized that he needed to write about something he was excited about.

At this point I need to interject that I had heard about Joe Hill’s books, Heart Shaped Box and 20th Century Ghosts, on NPR. They sounded interesting and maybe a tad literary and pretentious, but still intriguing. Now I understand where the literary feeling came from but until the moderator asked the next question I had no idea, really, who Joe Hill was: What does it feel like to be Stephen King’s son? I should have guessed it. The family resemblance is certainly there. He said he chose to write under another name because he wanted to stand on his own merit. And that his wife was a lot like his dad. People who come to visit tell him he’s got a cool motorbike in the garage and he points out that it belongs to his wife.

When commenting on the state of science fiction (I think this was in response to a question), Harry Turtledove, or one of them, talked about how science fiction is used to examine the world we’re in and spin an idea all the way out to its extreme so people can see where it will ultimately end up. During the Cold War years there were lots of post-apocalyptic tales after a nuclear holocaust. Recently there have been similar tales, but attributed to nature’s holocaust (Kim Stanley Robinson was an example).

One of the people asking questions was bitter and in bad taste and made a comment about how he thought Stephen King was a detriment to the body of Horror Fiction, and not a worthy heir to HP Lovecraft, and did they see Horror improving. There was a noticeable silence and then titters in the audience. I’m not a King fan myself (though I think his short stories are fantastic – just can’t get into the novels), but that question was very poorly put and in bad taste; Joe Hill rose to the occasion. He said he thought his father was a good writer and then objectively pointed out the remarkable differences between Stephen King and HP Lovecraft. I’m a Lovecraft fan myself and Hill made a good point. Lovecraft was a 19th century writer who used a distant first person as a narrator. His point was that people fear the unknown the most. So he wrote of horrors so great he couldn’t describe them. King, on the other hand, wrote about fear and the very familiar. He took the every day middle America family life and instilled it with underlying evils. Two very different approaches to horror. I thought that was a great point to make.

We all wanted the panel discussion to go longer, but the PTB chased us out so another panel could come in. I thoroughly enjoyed this panel and thought it was probably (maybe) the best of the day.

The next panel was on Myth in Realism or Magic in Everyday Life. I seemed to see a different title every time I looked online or at a listing. The panelists were: Aimee Bender, Alex Espinoza, Yxta Maya Murray, and Alice Hoffman. The moderator was Christine Smallwood.

Magic Realism Notes:

I was more at a loss at this panel than the last as the only person I had heard of was Alice Hoffman, but even then I hadn’t read any of her works. I just wanted to hear the discussion on what used to be called urban fantasy by Neil Gaiman and Charles DeLint. That term has since been usurped by the publishing industry,which now uses it as a term to describe stories written in first person and told by the female kick ass heroine. (Yes, I’m bitter about that). So, now the term Magic Realism and Mythic Realism is being used to describe stories that describe magic or the “other” in every day life. Though (here I go again), that’s not fair to all the South American writers (like Isabelle Allende) who have been calling what they write Magic Realism and Mythic Realism for years. I’ve recently read where Megan Lindholm uses the term “contemporary fantasy” and I think I like that term the best.

Okay, back to the panel. Christine Smallwood asked why they wrote what they wrote. Aimee Bender said that she likes to take something from real life and exaggerate it so we pay more attention to it, spin it out to its extreme (sound familiar?). Yxta Maya Murray pointed out that in her Latin Catholic home magic was simply an embedded part of every day life. It really wasn’t a leap for her. I believe Alex Espinoza agreed with her on that. His book takes place in a Botanica, a store seen in the Latino parts of town where people can buy herbs, candles, spells, etc. Like a new age store but for Latin Catholics. He sees that as real, pragmatic magic that can be seen in a real, pragmatic world. He also said that he thinks magic helps us understand the world better (sound familiar?). Alice Hoffman asserted that Realism is the “new kid on the block”. Magic has always been part of the story telling world and fiction — even mainstream fiction (again, sound familiar? I’m beginning to feel like Craig Ferguson “remind you of anyone?”).

Murray’s writing comes from asking the question: “What are we doing here?” Espinoza’s writing comes from looking at failure and power. He asserts that power comes from what we can’t do, from our failure to accomplish what we set out to do. Eventually the power comes, but by accident, through the back door. He also believes that ritual in life, no matter where it comes from or why it’s there, is a tool to make us pause and reassess our lives.

Another question Smallwood asked was what from the past was the catalyst that created the magic in the stories. I think it was Murray who pointed out that our bodies and cultures are sick and need to be healed and that’s where her desire or search or looking into magic comes from. Hoffman said that fiction is true, but nonfiction is a lie. Bender made a remark about how the book was a precious space where the writer and reader inhabit space together.

I did not go away excited about writing or anything when I left this panel. There was, what someone I know referred to as the whiff of literary pretension in the air. And these writers – it’s like they did not hear what was being asked or they just went non-sequitur really easily. I don’t think I was the only one who was slightly ambivalent about it. Nothing against the panelists, but the wall between fantasy and “magic realism” or “mythic realism” isn’t always clearly defined and I think some people at the panel were getting the two confused. I think the writers may have gotten what they write confused with “mainstream literary” because, unless it was Alice Hoffman (who stayed on task much better than the other three writers – but she really is a writer and the other three are either professors or teachers), it all seemed to spiral into some academic class on writing and politics. I hate academic classes on writing (or politics). I took those in college. They didn’t help my writing at all, and in fact did a lot to keep me from writing for a number of years. Needless to say I left that panel in a depressed, “this is why I had an emotional breakdown in college” mood. I think I’ll just hang out with the geeks in the horror and scifi room next time. They’re much more fun and enlightening.

So, I went to find myself some lunch.

After lunch I wandered around, but it was hot, I mean really hot. I was sweating enough to feel like I’d stuck my head under a faucet. I figured it would be in my best interest to get in line for my final panel/interview early in case I could get into the air conditioned room early. My final panel? Julie ANDREWS! When I got to Royce Hall the line for ticketed attendees wrapped all the way around the back and in a loop around the courtyard there. Good thing I got there early. As it was, by the time I got there, they were guiding people to the balcony. But it was nice and cool. I didn’t mind the balcony at all.

Patt Morrison (the lady in the hat who does book reviews) was the interviewer. She did the usual request that everyone turn off their cell phones then told a story attributed to Queen Elizabeth II. Apparently someone’s cell phone rang while they were having tea with her and she said to them, “You’d better get that. It might be someone important.” Then Ms. Morrison introduced “the Queen,” Julie Andrews, onto the stage for the interview. She got a standing ovation. (You know, even with that really long request and all the signs about not filming or taking pictures there were STILL people whose phones went off – loudly – during the interview and who were blatantly filming the interview. Oh well.) As of that day, Julie Andrews’ memoir, Home, had hit #1 on the New York Times Bestseller list.

Julie Andrews Notes:

I’m embarrassed to say I didn’t take very good notes. I was so enamored listening to this gracious lady that I just ended up sitting still most of the time. For me, this was my mountain top experience.

I did find out she’s written children’s books with her daughter. I didn’t realize that. One of the points she made (towards the end of the interview) was that she really missed her singing voice. Until her operation, she’d been singing most of her life. It was her life. It gave her a “voice” to express herself in. When she lost that “voice” she was in serious grieving. It was her daughter who pointed out that writing was another “voice” that she could use to express herself.

She didn’t want to write a biography when first approached about fifteen years ago. She didn’t see why anyone would want to read it and she wasn’t done living. Through a variety of happenings, though, she eventually came around to realizing that if she wrote about her life in vaudeville that that would be something that she felt she could add to the world of literature.

Vaudeville is, truly, a dead art form. Having grown up with a stepfather who sang tenor and played guitar and a mother who was a pianist who moved from town to town as a vaudeville act, Julie Andrews has a unique perspective on all that. She had little formal schooling, being tutored mostly while they traveled. She worked hard, but enjoyed what she did. She always thought she had a happy childhood until she went back to write about that childhood and realized how difficult it was. She remembers running for shelter in the subways during WWII. Most of what she talked about is in her book. One of the things she pointed out is that characters make the story and that she grew up surrounded by a bunch of characters.

One of the stories she told was about her accents. She’s not very good at them, but she had to have a cockney accent for her role as Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady. Well, she was coached by an American Professor of Phonetics to get down her English cockney accent. That was cute.

Towards the end, Ms. Morrison asked what advice Julie Andrews had for people trying to succeed. She said that she used to think that ambition was bad. Now she believes that as long as you are kind and don’t step on people, charitable, and gracious, that you should follow your passion. She made the point that we all have a number of things we are good at and like. Even if you can’t aim at a specific thing, keep aiming at those things in general and you’ll get there eventually. Do your homework, put your time in, and the luck and serendipitous moments will come. It may not be a straight path, but it doesn’t always need to be either.

I know she’s got that charisma that actors have, but it was nice to see someone who is gracious, kind, considerate, charitable and charming. There are so many “mean” or rough and gruff people around it’s so easy to loose sight of “grace” and “graciousness”. I felt like I’d been given the chance to be on an emotional sabbatical, where I didn’t feel like I was constantly in contact with prickly people (not that I am, but her graciousness was that great). She really believes in succeeding through love I think. I spoke with a friend who went to see Ray Bradbury the day before and said he was pretty much the same way. Follow what you love. I wonder if that’s a characteristic of truly successful people – not the Trump types – but the well rounded types. Have they done it all in love?

This sounds really new-agey, but after that interview it felt like my empathic aura had been given a rest. Seriously. She was that kind and gracious. I haven’t felt this good since – well – I had an aural healing in San Francisco over 10 years ago. I’ve had three rejections since attending that interview and it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m still on the mountain top. I’m going to see how long I can stay here.

Got a couple of no thank yous. One was just a generic no thank you, but the other one was more thoughtful and gave me some hope.

I need to write out thank you notes now. I got a new office chair (but in black) for my birthday from my mom and my sister.  They got tired of hearing how my legs and feet fell asleep from sitting in a green plastic garden chair for hours on end (;-)). Got writing books from my aunt who wants to be supportive. Got breakfast and trip to see Prince Caspian when it comes to town, as well as gift cards and checks to help keep me in kitty litter and kibble. I am very thankful.

In a day or two I will be blogging about the panels I went to see at the UCLA LA Times Festival of Books.  I took a lot of notes and really enjoyed the panels I went to see (The Outer Limits: Horror and Science Fiction; Magic Realism: Magic in Everyday Life; and….JULIE ANDREWS!). I hope I can somehow communicate as much as I learned at those panels.

I had a great birthday, thanks to everyone who asked or called or checked in. Some of what I did can be view here. I also hung out at the Mac store and lusted after things I can’t afford.  Very boutique-y.  The helper people have little “tricorders” in their hand that they can use to look up info or ring you up when you decide to buy something. Friend of mine had to return her new Mac that had turned to the darkside to get one that would be much more helpful (and actually work).

Then we went over to Barnes and Noble where I succumbed to temptation and bought some books…..

Er…where were we?

Yeah, and then lunch and then talking on the phone with a friend and then seeing cool phone calls and emails from friends and then rushing out to dinner and then the next day – LA Times Festival of Books. But that will be for another post.

It was a very good birthday that was mostly made up of lots of spontaneous, unplanned, unscheduled fun!

Anyone who lives in the Los Angeles area who is interested, we are having a special speaker at our May Writer’s Meeting. Norman Bogner is a seasoned author who will be coming to talk about writing the novel. He has had several books on the New York Times Best Seller’s list and has also written scripts for television and film.

Our meeting is May 3 at the Fairfax Library on Gardner between W. 3rd and Beverly. It will be from 3-5 pm in the community room.  Parking is tight so it might be a good idea to park a couple of blocks away and walk or take public transportation.

We would love to have you. Contact me if you have any questions regarding the meeting.

Cross posted in SEVERAL different places.

I know when editors and agents add that remark in their guidelines, they really do mean it for the best. After a while, however, it just feels like a bad joke. It’s not really. It’s just more of the “What I think I said is not what you think you heard” type thing. A writer’s best does not always match up with an editor’s best. And even when it does, it still might get kicked back. Editors and agents typically reject 90% of what they receive. I keep reminding myself of that and that I write because I like writing. Still, it wears.

Yes, I got another rejection.

In other news…

I made three kinds of lemony cakes last night. Now I need to find someone to eat some of it.

I have yellow roses on my kitchen table that are drooping already. I need to trim the bottoms again.

I get to help plan a visit from a speaker who is coming to our writer’s group in May. Very excited about that.

Last, but not least, June is little more than a month away and I have a poem coming out in the June 2008 issue of Aoife’s Kiss. I’m very excited about that, too.

I totally forgot about International Pixel-Stained Technopeasant Day until I read about it over on the EV Blog.  Maybe some sources to help you “celebrate” this day could include the blog on Blogging With A Purpose on Dreaming in Red.  Or maybe try looking at some of the artwork that has been posted on Ophelia Swims.

One of the things I really like about my friends is that I can wonder aloud about whether or not the building we’re in could be secured against a Zombie attack and they’ll go there with me.

I’m sure I’ll run into this more often, but I just got my first stiffed piece of business. I’m signed up on a bunch of freelancing sites to get jobs, right? Well, on one site I actually got invited to bid. So I did and the vendor responded with suggesting we try out one of the assignments and see how we do. When the vendor told me what the topic was I got a bad feeling – red flags and alarms – but I decided to go for it anyway. The topic was innocent enough, that wasn’t the problem. But there was something about the vendor that didn’t sit right.

So, anyway, I worked on the assignment. The topic was vague, but I took it and figured out an angle and did what I could with it. Then sent it to the vendor telling them to let me know whether it was what they had in mind and if it wasn’t, let me know what they thought so I could change or revise it.

A day later I hadn’t heard from the vendor so I sent an email to make sure they’d received it. A day after that I still hadn’t heard from them so I sent a message through the site (in case the email had gone into spam). A day after that I still hadn’t heard back so I contacted the site to let them know the vendor may not be on the level and resent the text to the vendor with an invoice. I’ll probably never hear from them again, but I did what I could. It’s left a bad taste in my mouth, but next time I’m going to pay attention to the red flags and alarms. Writing is work and I deserve to be paid for what I do when that’s what I’ve been contracted to do.

So, I have another prospective client I’m communicating with. I’m feeling better about this one. No red flags or alarms going off and the project feels like a good solid one. It may take a bit to get things nailed down, but I do feel better about it.

Working on various articles and stories for various markets and contests I want to submit pieces to. A lot of the pieces I’ve written I’m letting sit for a bit so I can go back to them letter with a fresh eye and review and revise them.

In the middle of all this I’m feeling really restless. My birthday is in a week and I want to play, but I want it to be easy. And I don’t want to feel trapped into anything. I HATE feeling trapped. When it comes to work, finances, life, I see it all being work and getting complicated and having to commit to things. I get that. But, these days anyway, I don’t like my recreation being complicated. Play should be easy, uncomplicated, and non-committal. Let me see if I can explain.

For my recreation purposes I believe in the KISS method. When I was a kid and I played with my friends I would go to say Keri’s house and we’d go to Mary Kay’s house and then we’d all ride our bikes over to Tom’s and watch he and brothers ride their dirt bikes on the back 40 and then we’d all end up back in my front yard for treats and wonder why our parents were angry and worried (because of course I had only asked about going to Keri’s and then it had just snowballed from there). It had all seemed so easy back then and I didn’t understand why the adults were getting angry (though now I see it – we hadn’t checked in with our whereabouts).  We had done a lot, but it had been spontaneous and unplanned and FUN.

When I got older and went to parties, I didn’t always stay with the friends I came with because it was a party. I sometimes spoke with other people and brought them back to the group and sometimes we all left and went on to other things. Some nights we’d go from say the Monkey Bar, to the Snake Pit to St. Nicks, maybe to some other place like the Dragonfly to see a friend play in a band or something, and eventually end up at either Swingers or Cantors. And all that seemed easy at the time and uncomplicated. It was unplanned, no commitment and just go with the flow and see where it took us. Again, it was FUN. We hadn’t planned on anything except for the first stop.

These days it seems like anytime I want to play it means work. Watching a movie suddenly means dinner and a movie and dessert and…and…and…and we have to plan it all and discuss it all. I don’t mind if it changes in the process, but I’m talking days before we get around to watching the movie.  Going to a cafe, just going to hang out, suddenly becomes a big thing that needs to be planned and considered and committed to. Going to a festival suddenly becomes an ordeal. What panel should I go to. I have to plan now, if I don’t I can’t get in. And suddenly I’m trapped. The nice, lazy day I was going to have where I was going to wander to a cafe or festival or whatever, is suddenly quantified, nailed down, everything scheduled and I’m trapped, held in place by the implacable schedule that’s been set up when all I wanted to do was PLAY.

Playing should not be work. Work should be work. Play should be play. It should be easy and fun and uncomplicated and not something you feel like is going to be work.

I wonder if this is what kids feel like these days. I’d much rather play video games all day long if going out to play meant having all the adults plan out my every move to the last nanosecond. It’s a lot easier to just keep working if play is going to end up being such work.

Angela Consolo Mankiewicz – a poetical writerly person I know has a new poetry chapbook out this month called “As If.”

Get’em while they’re hot!

I was reading this tonight and it struck a chord. Thought I would share it here with you during our poetry month:

Poetry by Marianne Moore, 1921

I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all this fiddle.
Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one discovers in
it after all, a place for the genuine.
Hands that can grasp, eyes
5          that can dilate, hair that can rise
if it must, these things are important not because a
high-sounding interpretation can be put upon them but because they are
useful. When they become so derivative as to become unintelligible,
the same thing may be said for all of us, that we
10             do not admire what
we cannot understand: the bat
holding on upside down or in quest of something to

eat, elephants pushing, a wild horse taking a roll, a tireless wolf under
a tree, the immovable critic twitching his skin like a horse that feels a flea, the base-
15        ball fan, the statistician-
nor is it valid
to discriminate against 'business documents andschool-books';
all these phenomena are important. One must make a distinction
however: when dragged into prominence by half poets, the result is not poetry,
20         nor till the poets among us can be
'literalists of the imagination-'
above
insolence and triviality and can present

for inspection, 'imaginary gardens with real toads in them,' shall we have
25     it. In the meantime, if you demand on the one hand,
the raw material of poetry in
all its rawness and
that which is on the other hand
genuine, you are interested in poetry.

Happy Poetry Month!