Bluestalking

Nanowrimo, anyone?

2009-11-06T16:53:44-06:00

Oh, no! I will not Nanowrimo!

I would not, could not swing a cat!

I would not, could not eat a rat!

I will not do it here or there!

I will not do it anywhere!

Especially if I can pay someone else to do it for me!

[Sorry. Fell out of character/rhyme scheme.]

I will not do Nanowrimo!

I will not do it, Uncle... Schmo?

God, that took forever. Glad that's over. And yeah, it didn't even end up rhyming. Suck it up, buttercup. You get what you pay for.

I'm not writing a novel this month. Don't even ask. Like I don't have enough to do without promising I'll write 50,000 words in the month of November? If they can be nonsensical words, okay. Just click back through a couple hundred of my past posts and you'll have nonsensical. More than you can handle. It's been known to make strong men weak. And weak men even weaker. And weaker men? We must not speak of this...

Anyway. Instead of doing something constructive like writing a nonsensical novel, I'm going to another gong bath tonight, another meditative session in which a trained musician dude plays gongs and other various instruments ~~of torture~~ in order for the music to permeate us, bringing us to all new heights of ... of... I don't know. Peace? Love? Unity? A use for that spare $20 you have lying around?

I just hope I don't fall asleep and snore, like I did last time. The strange dude lying next to me (not something you can say without getting in trouble that often, now, is it) did look at me kind of funny when we put our stuff away in the stuff closet. I'm pretty sure I was snoring in his ear, and I felt mighty guilty about it. But how do you apologize for that?

"Gee, dude. Sorry I made all that noise. Hope I didn't keep you from reaching a state of higher enlightenment."

Just sounds goofy to me. Better to do what I did: pretend it didn't happen. Like when you think something's going to be silent, and it winds up so NOT. Then you have to pretend it was the chair, or your shoe on the floor (helps if your shoe's rubber and the floor's wood), or - my favorite - the dog. As in, "Jesus, Taffy! What have you been eating?"

Okay. How did I get here from talking about Nanowrimo? Anyone paying enough attention to notice that? Thought not.

Now, if you'll excuse me I am going to prepare myself for attaining a heightened state of awareness. I fully expect I may see God. Or if not, my escort upon life's journey. That dude over there, the one dressed in... is it red? I don't know. There's too much smoke and steam rising. I can vaguely make out something pointy on his head. I'm sure he's wearing a hat. Or maybe he's an elf?

Do have a lovely evening. Weather will be glorious here all weekend, so think of me whilst I'm sitting at the car dealer, having the STUPID CAR FIXED. AGAIN.

Oh, and TOYOTA SUCKS.

See? Words I have. Coherence? Not so much. Talk to me next November. Unless you're the dude I was lying next to. In that case, I doubt you'll ever speak to me again. Not that you did before.

Oh shut up!

I'm. Going. Now.

2009-11-06T10:59:29-06:00

Racing Odysseus: A College President Becomes a Freshman Again by Roger H. Martin

Following his successful battle with cancer, against all odds Roger Martin finds himself a man granted a virtual second life. In this fortunate position he has the opportunity to look into his soul, deeply examining what he feels he's missed out on previously. And he decides to go back to college. But not just any college. One dedicated to reading the Great Books.

Why? I think he explains it best in the opening paragraph of Chapter 6: Old Farts:

"When I think of Herodotus, whose History we are reading in seminar, I think of a very old man with a long beard and a wrinkled face. Perhaps this is because I stand in a long line of historians going back to Herodotus, who was arguably the very first historian. Perhaps it's also because right now, as I study and play with the youngsters that surround me, I realize that I must look to them as Herodotus sometimes looks to me - as an old man with a beard and wrinkled face. In any case, Herodotus is my muse. As I write this book, I am, in a sense, writing history. But I am also trying to tell a good story."

Being myself a mid-life graduate student, I can testify how strange it sometimes feels, especially hanging out on campus with undergrads. Walking around, I assume they figure I'm a professor. A librarian, maybe.

Mostly likely, they don't wonder anything about me at all, I'm so far outside their world. Fortunately for me, I'm an online, distance-learning student. I just happened to have chosen a university at which to complete my practicum. Thus, the mingling with the youngsters, young adults barely older than my daughter.

Martin presents his situation in a believable way. His experiences ring true. I give him so much credit for what he did, and hope I'd have that kind of courage when I'm his age. That is, the courage to present myself among young people as a peer, dealing with their occasional stares of incomprehension, their disbelief, and the necessity of explaining myself over and over. Especially when I hate having to do such things to begin with.

What I couldn't appreciate about the book was the prose style. It had a sort of disjointed quality to it, as though the author tried to fit too many details into too small a space. Better to put in less but flesh it out more, rather than repeating the same sorts of situations over and over again. The prose, for lack of a better term, lacked zing. The premise was interesting, and the reason I interlibrary loaned the book right after I found out about it, but the writing itself put me off - enough so I wound up having to skim sections, especially those talking about his rowing adventures.

A shame, really, but I did have one big positive experience. I stated it earlier - that it was heartening and inspiring to know a man who'd been through so much felt sure enough of himself to become an undergraduate all over again. It sounds like the stuff of dreams, really, imagining yourself back in those chairs, listening to lectures, taking tests and doing the homework of an undergrad when you, yourself, are at or over middle age.

I'd recommend the book, but with the caution don't expect prose that sings. If it's inspiration you want there's plenty here. But unfortunately, very little of the poetry of language.

Paperback: 280 pages
Publisher: University of California Press; 1 edition (January 1, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0520265874

Reviews

"An extraordinary memoir."--Times Literary Supplement (tls)

"Alternately amusing and poignant, Martin's personal epic offers a much-needed perspective on cultural dilemmas both ancient and modern."--Booklist

"An engaging memoir."--Library Journal

"An understated, engaging memoir."--Providence Journal

"Racing Odysseus is not your typical college president's memoir."--Change Magazine

I get NO kick-back for this...

2009-11-05T12:18:39-06:00

... but this site has the coolest book-themed jewelry I've ever seen.

It's not often you find stuff like this!

Love it.

Over at Fixer-Upper ... My very honest feelings re: the holidays.

2009-11-05T11:35:42-06:00

Read on!

I'm here, and I'm breathing.

2009-11-04T20:11:10-06:00

I don't feel that great this week. I've had a pounding headache every day. And I fall asleep at the drop of a hat, not that that's abnormal for me. I think I'm fighting a virus, hopefully not THE SWINE. Because we all know THE SWINE is absolutely no fun. So far no fever. That's a good sign. But I feel wiped out.

In reading, I'm starting the last CD of Penelope Lively's The Photograph. Still loving it, and anxious to see how it ends. Also, I'm reading a lot of nonfiction about genre fiction, and nonfiction in general. I'm working out my list of reads for the book group I'm starting next year. Not as easy as it sounds, because I'm concerned with striking a balance between the various kinds of nonfiction.

Then there's my off and on reading about the history of books and libraries. Oddly, I find such things interesting.

My children are driving me insane right now. I'm going to find the bed to escape from them. Shall return.

Post Halloween Post

2009-11-01T11:51:43-06:00

"Halloween's over, and it was nothing like it used to be. It just isn't the same.

Friday we carved pumpkins, but the only person truly excited was my youngest loin-spring. He got his own pumpkin this year, because he's finally old enough to be trusted with our sacred carving tool - a battery-operated "saw" that can barely cut paper. If you wanted to harm yourself with it you'd have long ago forgotten why by the time you managed to scratch your skin. Then what would be the point?"

Read on!

Still think libraries are boring?

2009-10-31T14:23:45-05:00

Lisa Guidarini

Photos of the Day

2009-10-30T00:20:00-05:00

The Morton Arboretum

An Outstanding Listen

2009-10-30T00:18:00-05:00

If you have the opportunity, give a listen to (or read) Penelope Lively's The Photograph. Love the premise of it. A widower comes across a photo, stuck away in an envelope reading "Don't Open, Destroy," while searching for something in a closet.

The photo's of his wife, her hand intertwined in that of her sister's husband. From there come the questions: who knew, why wasn't he told, had there been others, and why the mousy husband of her sister?

His wife, Kath, had been a beauty, skating through life on her looks, with a laissez-faire personality. Everything came to her without a bit of effort on her part. And her sister, Elaine, was her exact opposite. No beauty herself, she worked very hard for everything she got. Of course there was some tension, on Elaine's part, though Kath's personality wouldn't allow her to be bothered.

I'm in the midst of listening, and love it thus far. It's read, very well, by more than one narrator. Heartily recommended.

Audio CD
Publisher: Highbridge Audio; Unabridged edition (June 23, 2003)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1565117840
ISBN-13: 978-1565117846

My newsletter essay for CITW

2009-10-29T18:27:46-05:00

If you have a chance, you can pop over to the website of my favorite retreat on earth, Christ in the Wilderness, and check out the article I wrote for their newsletter, plus the photos I gave them to go along with it.

If you don't, hey, no big deal. Santa may skip over your house this holiday season, though. Don't blame me.

Up and coming talent (But "Dumbo," Brooklyn?)

2009-10-29T13:22:07-05:00

"5 UNDER 35"
THE NEXT GENERATION OF
FICTION WRITERS CELEBRATION

KICKS OFF NATIONAL BOOK AWARDS WEEK
IN DUMBO, BROOKLYN

Hosted by Punk Rock Icon and Novelist Richard Hell,
Novelist and MacArthur Fellow Jonathan Lethem to DJ

New York, New York – Five young fiction writers will be recognized by the National Book Foundation at the “5 Under 35” celebration at PowerHouse Arena in the DUMBO section of Brooklyn on Monday, November 16, announced Harold Augenbraum, the executive director of the National Book Foundation.

“5 Under 35 is a celebration of emerging talent and the perfect way to kick off National Book Awards Week,” says Augenbraum.

The 2009 “5 Under 35” are (click on the names for more information):

Ceridwen Dovey, Blood Kin, (Viking, 2008)
Selected by Rachel Kushner, 2008 Fiction Finalist for Telex from Cuba
C. E. Morgan, All the Living (Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 2009)
Selected by Christine Schutt, 2004 Fiction Finalist for Florida
Lydia Peelle, Reasons for and Advantages of Breathing (HarperCollins, 2009)
Selected by Salvatore Scibona, 2008 Fiction Finalist for The End
Karen Russell, St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised by Wolves (Vintage, 2006)
Selected by Dan Chaon, 2001 Fiction Finalist for Among the Missing
Josh Weil, The New Valley (Grove Press, 2009)
Selected by Lily Tuck, 2004 Fiction Winner for The News from Paraguay

Now in its fourth year, "5 Under 35” has become the highly-anticipated kick-off event for National Book Awards week. In a nod to Brooklyn’s status as the literary epicenter of New York City, the Foundation has moved the event to the Powerhouse Arena in DUMBO. That evening, each author will be introduced by the writer who selected them. This year’s emcee is musician, novelist, and publisher Richard Hell, founder of the seminal punk band Richard Hell & the Voidoids. The evening’s DJ will be novelist, essayist, and MacArthur fellow Jonathan Lethem.

Food provided by Soler-Bermudez of the Red Hook Food Vendors, a 2008 Vendy Award Finalist, and regular at the Red Hook Ball Fields every summer.

Wines generously donated by Joseph and Diane Steinberg; and beer generously donated by Union Beer.

This event is by invitation only. Press interested in attending should contact
Sherrie Young, syoung@nationalbook.org.

_____________________________________

I love reading about talent that's "in the wings." It's depressing being older that what's considered "young talent," but c'est la vie. I'd like to check these out. Literally. May take one or two on retreat, so I can not have time to read them and feel all depressed about it.

Yay!

IRRITATED. Oh, and in the dumps.

2009-10-29T12:25:17-05:00

It's not that I consider myself a great writer, but I know my way around a keyboard. I think. Maybe I suck more than I can see, being unable to objectively view what I write, but today's slap in the face by a former 'zine for which I wrote is majorly discouraging.I'm not naming names, but I think I know the reasons for the slap. If I thought they were justified I'd say so, but I honestly don't.

Read on!

It's the pictures...

2009-10-28T18:12:03-05:00

... that are causing the slowdown of this blog. I'll have to start setting them smaller, so my dratted blog will actually open.

Why all of a sudden? Why, why, why?

I'll have to pull off all the big ones, then put them back in a smaller size. Good thing I have SO MUCH FREE TIME.

Drat.

It's been such a day. It started out with running out of sugar for morning coffee. I got out the brown sugar, averting total disaster. But then I got that Rolling Stones song in my head, and it played over and over and over and over. All morning.

Next, I left home, then realized I forgot my cell phone. I turned around to fetch it, and while I was home grabbed my camera. I was headed to my practicum, and wanted to take a photo of the commonplace book they own. Only, the curator was too busy to help me find it today, anyway, what with meetings and all. But that's okay! Because I'd left the memory card at home, anyway. I couldn't have taken any photos even if I had seen the book.

What's next? Oh, forgot my lunch, and realized on the way I'd also forgotten to eat breakfast. And my bottle of water? You guessed it. And it's exceedingly dry in an archive. Dehumidifiers running constantly and all that.

After that the disasters seemed finished with me, for the nonce. I think the gods were already laughing so hard their stomachs hurt, so they couldn't summon any more great torture.

Totally changing topics, guess who this man is? No, not just any old, slightly sneaking looking person from the Middle Ages. It's Johannes Gutenberg, about whom I've been investigating lately - just in bits, because who has the time, even if it does involve the reason we have books.

Swoon!

I interlibrary loaned a book I'll have to give up, because it's *ahem* overdue. But then I found a very small book on the man at the Northern Illinois University Rare Books/Archives dept. Since it was so short, only about 25 pages, I copied it and brought it home. Twenty five pages (only twelve copied, mind). It's better than Wikipedia, and definitely shorter than the book I interlibrary loaned.

Ka-ching! We have a winner.

Movable type. Can you imagine setting every, single letter? Dear God. And, did you know if it weren't for Gutenberg, Martin Luther wouldn't have been able to break from the Catholic church? Because of Johannes he was able to print up material in mass quantities, handing it out in order to convince people to join his side.

Interesting how these chains of events work. If one little thing is changed the whole world could potentially be different. TANGENT!

Ah, but I must go. I am exhausted, pure and simple. And I still have to take a child to a doctor appointment this evening. I could use a shower, but there's no time. But if I hurry I can at least change. And fix what I can. I'm off like a flash...

Anyone short a teenager?

2009-10-28T08:50:16-05:00

She's 15. Really intelligent, but not too big on neatness. Lots of academic ambition, but no true interest beyond herself. In other words, a normal teenager.

She wants to be a psychologist, but she's told me twice how she doesn't like people. When I reminded her of her career choice, and how it kind of rests on caring about people, she replied, "Oh, I only mean people I KNOW." Oh. That makes a difference. Just see everyone for one session, then declare them cured. Before you start hating them.

Read on!

Slooooow Doooooown

2009-10-28T08:47:08-05:00

FYI:

On my end, at least, Bluestalking is incredibly slow. Could be this computer, I don't know. It's been acting strangely lately, requesting to be rebooted a couple times a day. So, if you're having trouble too, maybe it's Typepad.

Drat them.

Maybe they agree with me, that the pace of life is too fast these days. So they're actively trying to piss me off. Which seems counter-intuitive to the low-stress thing, now, doesn't it.

Bluestalking

Nanowrimo, anyone?

Paperback: 280 pages Publisher: University of California Press; 1 edition (January 1, 2010) Language: English ISBN-10: 0520265874

I get NO kick-back for this...

Over at Fixer-Upper ... My very honest feelings re: the holidays.

I'm here, and I'm breathing.

Post Halloween Post

Still think libraries are boring?

Photos of the Day

An Outstanding Listen

My newsletter essay for CITW

Up and coming talent (But "Dumbo," Brooklyn?)

IRRITATED. Oh, and in the dumps.

It's the pictures...

Anyone short a teenager?

Slooooow Doooooown

Paperback: 280 pages
Publisher: University of California Press; 1 edition (January 1, 2010)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0520265874