Jen Knox

Sharp turns

2013-06-15T19:55:00.000-05:00

I fell off my bike when I was young, around eight. I was pedaling at a good clip on a park sidewalk, but suddenly there was a large crack in the cement and then a step down. I couldn't remember how to break. All I saw was the inevitable until the inevitable happened. It was the ultimate lesson in how to psyche myself out. I lost control at the crack and panicked at the step. I fell, face to concrete. My glasses broke and cut a star into my forehead. A few stitches later, I decided to never ride a bike again.

I found good to avoid the bike. I mean, what would I really miss? A workout? I could run. Fun? Yeah, not so much. Hanging out with friends? None of my friends had bikes anyway. I could honestly say that I wasn't missing out on much. But rationalizing and calling it logic or no, I knew deep down I was making excuses. Truth was, I was giving up on a thing I'd previously wanted to do.

I was never too embarrassed that I didn't learn to ride a bike, and the older I got the less it came up. It was a self-deprecating story to tell. The story of how I gave up. It'd come up casually then someone would ask, "What? You really don't know how to ride a bike?" And I'd respond, "Funny story! I was eight, and I still have the scar..."

San Antonio, in an effort to offset the amazing, over-indulgent food and slow pace the city offers, instituted a bike sharing program downtown. And for the first time in my life, I've felt a little left out in my inability to join the crowd. So, at thirty-three, I bought a bike. 24", pink, mountain with a low back and shocks (might be the first pink thing I've willingly owned). I went out for the first time in over twenty years last weekend. I went out again today.

How I roll now

Learning to ride a bike at age 33 is probably about the same as it'd be for anyone at any age. Balance takes some time, but can become routine rather quickly. Getting started on an uphill is tough, the adjustment from downhill to up or up to down takes some getting used to. Then, there are the worst: the sharp turns. There's a ramp, sidewalk, turn, bridge deal by my apartment, and it's where I practice. I'm working on my turns.

Who'd have thought? I'm working on my turns after having decided to never get back on the bike, that the thing has defeated me. Might seem silly, but in this woman's world, it's encouraging. If I can ride a bike, I can do something I told myself I couldn't.

Speaking of which, I am getting close to completing my novel, which is another thing I couldn't stop telling myself I couldn't do. No, I thought, I'd get sidetracked. I work two jobs; I have too much to do; I don't have time for such a concentrated effort; I don't have the attention span; I don't have the story. Go figure. Now I do.

I'll be posting updates about future writings and the novel soon. In the meantime, I'll be working and riding. Have a beautiful week!

Dear John Quiñones,

2013-06-08T10:56:00.000-05:00

It might be a tough one to pull off, but I need a show about this:

I was walking my dog on a relatively busy street near my apartment complex. My dog, though well-medicated and hanging in there, has heart failure. He is sweet and docile, a Blue Heeler--not an aggressive breed, yet I keep in on leash because a.) I want to keep him safe and b.) I know that dogs can be unpredictable when they feel threatened, no matter how sweet they are.

Yesterday, as we walked after a good rain, a soaking wet black Lab mixed with something stocky came rushing toward us. He charged my little guy, who is very laid back by nature and even more so on all his meds and with a tricky ticker. The dog sniffed my dog at first, then started growling, then started showing his teeth and biting. His owners were twenty feet away, walking leisurely. When their dog started getting aggressive, I yelled to the two women, one younger, one older, to come get their dog off of my dog. They didn't run, just continued to stroll, so I had to pull the Lab mix from my dog. I wasn't bitten, but it wasn't easy. The younger of the two of them finally rushed up, after I yelled at her three times, to get the dog.

Then what? Well, I was angry. I'm not sure what I should have done, and I'd love to know what you would have done, but here's what I did. I told the both of them, "You need to keep your dog on a leash so he doesn't go attacking other dogs."

In response, the older woman who didn't seem to care at all said, "He doesn't usually do this. He was just playing." This is the same comment a Chow owner made when I was a little kid and got bit on the eye by her vicious ("but usually so sweet") dog. It took everything I had to not attack that woman like her dog attacked mine.

Of course, I did not hurt the woman. Instead, I told her, well, "You can't say that anymore. Get your dog a damn leash." She ignored me. My dog is fine, but I was so incredibly shaken up because I know every time his heart rate goes way up, he's probably losing time. He's a happy dog, and he's in good shape, but I know these days are numbered and people that put his health in jeopardy are hitting every maternal instinct a dog mom can have.

But when they walked off, I watched. The dog started running off, way in front of them again. What about that dog? That dog could just as easily chased a squirrel into the busy road we were walking along. It could have just as easily attacked a child or another animal that could have taken it down.

In a city like San Antonio, with a population of 1.36 million, there are many busy streets. There are many large apartment complexes on busy streets, like the one I live in, and there are something near 200,000 stray dogs and cats. The odds that an unleashed dog will get hurt or hurt someone/some other animal are high. I don't understand why anyone who lives in the city, especially a big city like this, would be so incredibly irresponsible. But also, I wonder if I should have done more.

The ending of this story is bittersweet. The sweet part is this: my dog is not hurt, there are no bite marks, though he was shaken up and had a tough night (he breathes hard all night on days he gets really excited). The bitter part is this: the woman turned into my apartment complex, and walked all the way to the back. I live in a very large complex, and though I take comfort in the fact that I can pass on her behavior to the rental office, I don't have much confidence that this will that change her behavior. Should I have been nicer to her? Psychologically, I doubt my reaction did much more than amuse and maybe scare her.

But I'm calmer now. But this isn't the first time it's happened that a dog owner's dog charges me or my dog. Usually, the owner is apologetic or runs after the dog, but nice or not, this is a problem. Should I have reported her? And to whom, Animal Control? Should I get dog-repelling pepper spray? Would that hurt the dog more than help? I wonder what I should have done, really...

Chapbooks and chopsticks

2013-06-04T17:43:00.004-05:00

I didn't post this weekend because I was finishing up the first half of my novel to send (sent). Also, my husband came back from Japan (yes!), which means I had to buy the proper decorative holder for my new, extensive chopstick collection. Oh, and I was pretty busy otherwise. I designed the 2307 creative writing course that I'll begin teaching next week, and I think it's going to be a great course. I hope so. The weekend was great anyway. I mean, seriously, check this out. I asked him for one good set. The man goes above and beyond.

In writing news, a small portion of my manuscript of short stories received third place in a chapbook competition held by Monkey Puzzle Press, which means I'll be offering up a little chap, hopefully a teaser for the longer collection that will eventually follow. And to balance things out, I got some really encouraging rejections (always nice) for a long story I've been trying to place that I really love. Long stories are a hell of a lot harder to place, let me tell you, but I believe in this story, so I might try a few more places. If you haven't yet, please check out my last two published stories (right). I have nothing new to share this week, but I'm pretty proud of those two.

I wish you all a wonderful week, and if you're anywhere close to me in South Texas, I wish you air conditioning and shade aplenty.

The work

2013-05-24T20:51:00.000-05:00

I'm living this novel. I'm drowning in the novel. I'm so deep that I'm unable to fully engage in life without thinking about what I need to change, how to refine, where to expand. This is surreal and special, a sort of space that comes so fleetingly with short stories that it sometimes feels over as soon as it begins.

I'm beginning to see how a novelist finds a rhythm and how reasonable it is to finish a longer work with the luxury of time. But novelists, I'm all the more in awe of your ability to keep track of so much, to not get sidetracked. This is glorious but tough.

It seems the perfect time to do this, like the cards are falling into place. My husband is in Japan, so far away and I miss him so much but his absence leaves quiet. My classwork is over, grades are in. And though I plan to hang out with friends this weekend, to actually relax, I have lots of alone, quiet time to look forward to. I'm rereading one of my favorite books, Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts, and I'm writing, writing, writing.

I'm 42 pages into the revisions. It's humid in Texas, and I'm taking muggy, slow walks with my dog. I'm returning to the page. I'm not watching TV. I'm not spending too much time surfing the Internet or tinkering with shorter stories. The plan is to channel the focus I had at the Vermont Studio Center; I wish I could return, but it's not realistic for me to keep my job and go to a residency every few months, so I'm taking advantage of the quiet and making my own, at-home residency. At least for a few days.

Since I'm drowning in novel, I won't post much more here today. I will say that I hope you all have a wonderful Memorial Day weekend. My undying gratitude, respect and admiration for those who died in service as well as all those who served and serve. My support and love to those who are hurting in Oklahoma. If you're interested in donating to help those whose lives have been upset, I'm sure there are many places to do so, but here's a link: Red Cross Disaster Relief

The call

2013-05-18T12:39:00.000-05:00

This week has been surprising and exhausting.

Along with work, it's finals week (I'm taking a break from grading to write this now), and I've been plagued by migraines. More, I've been on a sort of emotional roller coaster regarding my writing career.

Around the beginning of the year, I resolved to start looking for an agent. Well, I haven't. I researched one and one only, and I sent her a short query, but that was as far as it got. I stopped thinking about it and began to find my comfort again in publishing short work online.

Then it happened. This week, an agent contacted me through my website. She said that after reading "Don't Tease the Elephants" in Monkeybicycle, she found my contact information online and would love to converse. The first thing I did was Google her and her agency. I thought I'd heard of the agency, but I wasn't sure. The agent is legit and the agency is well established. So, I guess you could say, I got the call. The thing is, I didn't see it coming and did not feel prepared.

In order to prepare for our chat, I went online and researched, looking for articles to try and figure out what an agent's role really is and whether that would be something I'd really benefit from. (You know, all the things I said I'd do months ago.) She asked for a short sample of a longer work in the meantime as I am promoting the fact that I have a novel-in-progress. I sent a sample with disclaimers. It was near-maddening to release a small piece of a project that I was not yet planning to send to anyone.

The thing is, I have dreamed of getting this call (which was really an email initially), but when it happened I was caught off-guard. I wanted to be more prepared for our first conversation, but I also didn't want to squander the opportunity to connect. I read numerous interviews with agents and found that many times agents will approach authors instead of responding to queries (strong argument for publishing online) because there are just so many queries that they can't possibly answer them all. I found quite a few sites that suggested questions to ask (the sites I found most helpful are listed below). Armed with these questions, I asked the agent how hands-on she was, how often she spoke with her clients, and whether there was a market for short story collections (I have a full collection almost ready to go, but a novel that could still use some TLC). I asked her what attracted her to my work and how she would categorize it as she shopped it. I told her I was nervous about the sample I sent her, and that I felt far more comfortable with my short story collection; but, she seemed to want the novel. She said the novel would be a good place to begin. I thought, Nooooooo.... but then I thought again, and I agree. Story collections are a tough major-market sell. And also, I might want to place my own collection in more of an indie market so long as I do it smartly. We'll see. My mind is open to the possibility.

The call was very efficient and, honestly, a bit anticlimactic. She offered some background on her agency, the authors the agency represents and how foreign rights are handled. What I realized is that the agent's role varies greatly from agency to agency. For instance, some agents are far more hands-on than others; some handle foreign rights themselves; some like to speak with their authors monthly, whereas others prefer to see in-progress work weekly. The conversation was enlightening.

After the call, I told friends. A few friends were congratulatory, telling me I deserved it; others told me to be careful and to ensure she has my best interest in mind and would best present my work. Some asked if the agent charges fees. (No.) Some asked whether she'd represent me or the book or the career. Good question. I appreciate all the support. What I've come to realize is that the process is not as easy or straightforward as I thought. It's a business relationship that must develop. There are no guarantees.

I'm excited, and I'm really motivated to get a hundred pages of my novel really polished by the end of the month (as promised). But, I'm also keeping my feet on the ground here. I've made some mistakes in the literary game. But, for my sanity's sake, I refuse to dwell. I am looking ahead, and I believe that if this is supposed to happen, it will. I believe that for everyone. Work, work, work, work, work, work, and work some more. Eventually, if you work hard enough and keep your mind open, something will happen.

All that to say, again, I've been an emotional wreck. I've been very happy, and I've felt very naked. I've felt both supported and not. It's an interesting outcome, and it's really enlightening. I suppose I can only focus on the positive, get those hundred pages set, and be honest with myself as our correspondence continues.

In other news, I have an experimental piece in ARDOR entitled After the Gazebo. It was wonderful working with the staff there, and I'm really proud of the piece because the way it's told is very difficult (for me) to pull off. If you go to the link, also, you can PDF the pages. I read the whole magazine that way. There's beautiful photography and truly provocative work in those pages.

Here are the sites that helped me to prepare for my first agent call. If you're looking yourself, or think you might get the call one day, save yourself some emotional upset and read these ahead of time:

What to Ask an Agent?
Questions to ask an agent offering representation
Fiction Addiction
Query Tracker

Hopefully, I'll have an update the last week of the month. My writing career has been transparent, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Writing is hard work. Instead of trying to create the facade that I'm flawless and incredibly talented, I'd rather let everyone know that I'm flaw-filled and have very little talent. The thing is, I work my ass off because I love to write, and I love to tell stories. Whatever happens, it's an interesting ride, and I'll keep putting in work.

"I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious." - Albert Einstein

On the art of seeing

2013-05-11T17:33:00.003-05:00

I'm going to ramble a bit.

I've been thinking a lot about perspective this week. One of the most interesting things about life, a thing to tease out in any narrative fiction, is how varied perspective can be. Take a simple issue, look at it through different eyes, look at it when you're older, look at it from the perspective of the very rich or the very poor, look at it as though it will immediately impact your life, and then look at it from a safe distance. Perspective does not change a thing, but it redefines the thing.

I've been thinking about that a lot for a few reasons. 1. A person I feel a certain way about seems to have left a completely opposite impression on another, and in a conversation that even mentions said person, there is an obvious clashing of perspective. 2. A person I know is offended that comedy would even broach catastrophe, whereas an effort of comedy to heal those victims of catastrophe is offering help in the form of humor. 3. A food tastes so incredibly satisfying, and when I was younger it would have made my stomach turn.

It seems like such a simplistic issue, but I think finding art in all this, in life and everything it has to offer, means an ability to question perspective. That's really all I have on a personal note this week. And I need to find a way to incorporate some strong examples in my lecture on perspective for my summer class.

In writing news, I have a new story out about a woman, a sort of busybody whose aim is to make anyone she comes into contact with smile. People seem to like this one. Here's a link: The Suit

And with that, I'm currently trying to decide whether I should go see Mud or Gatsby before I finish my grading today. Last week of class! If I'm incredibly blown away or repelled by my movie choice, I might post tomorrow.

Otherwise, Happy Mother's Day and a happy week!

May

2013-05-03T06:42:00.002-05:00

May is time to celebrate mothers, toast on Cinco de Mayo and eat too much guacamole, enjoy the change of season, cookout (Maybe. I mean, what's with this weather? It's 40 degrees in S. Texas!), and honor men and women who died in service on Memorial day. May is about celebration and memory. I welcome it.

For me, May means that class will come to an end (bitter-sweet), the weather will begin to get Texas hot (maybe), and I will clean and organize my closets and drawers (scary).

The month was brought in well writing-wise. I was told that my story Getting There, which originally appeared in PANK, was nominated for and received finalist status in the 13th Glass Woman Prize. I love this competition, because a.) It recognizes the value of women writers (thank you, Beate) and b.) it's not the kind of competition you enter and pay a fee for, it's about the work that you've put out into the world. So, I'm honored. Please read all the stories here. A direct link to the slightly revised version of Getting There that won, go here.

In other writing news, I have work forthcoming in ARDOR and Burrow Press Review. Both journals have been amazing to work with, and I am very excited to move forward with the pieces (both of which are coming this month!). The story in ARDOR is quite different for me. It's haunting and strange, and if I remember when I post the link to the issue, I will tell you the story behind the story's creation. This story is equally as haunting.

In reading news, I finished The Reluctant Fundamentalist only to then purchase in on audio because when books are that good, that's what I do. The Audible recording as great, almost as good as reading the book.

The amazingly generous Kathy Fish sent me a pre-release copy of her collection Together We Can Bury It, which I have not yet finished because I don't want the thing to end. I read the last story first, then read the first story, then opened to a random story... this is how I read short story collections so that I forget how many stories I have left. It's silly, but it's my bedtime book, and I really, truly love it. The short shorts I read a few at a time, the longer ones I savor.

In other news, I am exhausted! Seriously. I'm suffering from serious exhaustion. This weekend is about R&R. I might not even get online (yeah right).

So. To celebrating mothers and cleaning our closets! To relaxing and reading good fiction! Have a beautiful start to your May.

Driving through, in the midst of chaos

2013-04-19T20:10:00.000-05:00

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

2013-04-13T17:27:00.002-05:00

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

2013-04-06T22:21:00.001-05:00

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

2013-03-29T16:31:00.000-05:00

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

2013-03-24T11:46:00.001-05:00

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

2013-03-18T21:25:00.000-05:00

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

2013-03-17T10:48:00.001-05:00

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.

Wish List

2013-03-08T21:59:00.000-06:00

I've been reaching for a lot lately, and my goals seem to be a little steeper than I thought they were. They are not out of reach, but I need to find a damn ladder or step stool. That said, I've been daydreaming a lot this week and reading news and writing odd little stories in between these pesky migraines. And in this dreamy head space, I have been wishing for a lot. One thing I know true for myself is, wishes don't come true. Wishes must be reigned in, restructured into goals, and then steps are made toward said goals.

But there are also those longings that aren't goals and can't be, at least not for me. These longings are destined to remain wishes and longings. But, as Audre Lorde said (my favorite quote of all time here, people), "I have come to believe over and over again that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood."

So, I thought, why not share my wish list?

I wish....

people were less hypocritical

wheatgrass tasted better

smart, empathetic people had as much drive as smart, narcissistic people

sugar didn't taste so damn good

cancer would go the fuck away (I truly believe scientists are on the verge of finding the magic potion. I just wish it'd happen now.)

scars weren't attached to such sad memories

joints were less fragile

redheads could go out in the sun

vegetables didn't spoil so quickly

every person who ever called or thought of him or herself as a story writer subscribed to at least two literary journals

cellphone contracts weren't so evil

women who fight for what they believe in would no longer be called a. bitches or b. sensitive/emotional

who you know/are related to counted less than who you are

people in my apartment complex wouldn't feed the deer (that then congregate around us and run back and forth across the major road in front of our apartments)

there was less pressure for everyone to be everything all the time

there was true quiet, every now and then

Drama
Image: Christopher J. Shanahan

retirement wasn't a luxury in the U.S.

i had more patience

everyone read novels

everyone read poetry

everyone could read

no one was invisible

caffeine didn't seem so necessary

the common definition of beauty became authenticity instead of the opposite

i could accept things the way they are

Somehow, just by putting them to paper, I feel a little more grounded. Funny how that works. If you'd like, share your wishes with me. I'd love to hear them.

I'll post literary news next week.

Mega-relax mode

2013-03-03T14:30:00.003-06:00

I'm writing this as the dryer works. The sound is soothing, and soothing is exactly what I need today.

Yesterday was a non-event. I had a migraine that kept me from doing much of anything aside from trying to cure my migraine. I am not used to migraines, but this was definitely one. I had one in Vermont, too, and I'm wondering if it's allergies. I drank 6 of those 16 ounce bottles of spring water, took magnesium and zinc because I read those were good, and finally resigned my stubborn self to a Tylenol allergy and sinus pill about 8 p.m. because that was all I had. Maybe it was allergies or sinus stuff because it finally left me alone. Let's just say the water helped as well. But now I feel my weekend is almost up, so I'm in mega-relax mode.

Some rather big news reached me today. My first book, the one that I love/hate/love, will soon be produced in audio. I am so touched that my publisher, All Things That Matter, went to the trouble of submitting it and that it was chosen. I'm a little nervous about how the reading will turn out, but mostly, I'm just excited. Maybe Musical Chairs, my crazy story, will reach who it needs to--those young people who want out of their skin, because they are the reason I wrote it. Well, really, I wrote it for my younger self then shared it for anyone who thought like I did then. I still plan to rewrite it one day. But in the meantime, audio really does open the audience up, so I'm hoping... Anyway, it'll be on iTunes and Audible/Amazon in June. I'll post when I hear more.

So also this week, I got my issue of Thumbnail 4, which is AMAZING! I really recommend buying and reading it. The whole of it is just stunning. Also, Lost in Thought 4 came out. I haven't received my copy yet, but my story in this one is almost prose poetry, so it's another reach. I'll be very eager to read the rest of it. There are some damn fine writers in there. It's really reasonable to buy online, but I'm waiting for my print version of this one. The art is just so amazing... I have to.

Well, that's it for the week. I'm going to try and write a little. I've had a sort of dry spell the last week. But dry spells for writers are okay. I consider these times the way we recharge and take in the world. We are forever reevaluating ourselves and our place, and this is why there will never be an end to the newness of perspective in story. Now, off to prove that... Happy week, all!

Sweet stuff

2013-02-24T10:38:00.000-06:00

I've been posting a lot about meditation, general health and wellness, cooking more whole foods, eating veggies, exercising mindfully, etc... and I still am. But today's post is no healthy writer post. This week has been overflowing with the sweet stuff, the decadence.

My intentions were good. I brought home a single 1.7 ounce Vermont-shaped container of maple syrup for myself and quite a few maple leaf-shaped deals for friends. This was strategic thinking as the stuff is like crack, not that I've done crack, and I have very little restraint when it comes to such sweetness.

Also particularly saccharine this week is the fact that I'm reunited with my husband, who had to leave in a mad dash six hours after I got back from Vermont, who I barely got a chance to hug before having to drive him to the airport. We had three weeks apart. But yesterday, we were really reunited. We had waffles with that amazing maple syrup, took a long walk, practiced our respective art, and then went out for a healthy vegan meal followed by the most ridiculous dessert martini at SoHo on the Riverwalk in San Antonio to celebrate a friend's birthday. (I'm still feeling a sort of sugar buzz from this thing; in fact, my body might be in shock for a week. I was drinking the one on the right.)

Insanity aka the SoHo's Creme Brulee and Samoa martinis shown here.

This week has also been filled with literary sweetness. Here's a glimpse:

The release of The Istanbul Review, VII, in which I have a longer piece of fiction. (The shipping is high for those in the U.S., but this publication is available on iTunes and will soon be available on Kindle as well.)
The release of Versus, by many of my favorite poets who are all writing on a list of topics that, well... I just can't wait to read this book.
Two acceptances recently, one of which was in Monkeybicycle, one of my long-time, all-time favorite online publications.
Oh, and I finished a new flash piece I'm quite fond of this week.

With the sweet, there is always the difficult. I'm off to reconcile a few writing dilemmas:

One is in a short piece I wrote. As I began the piece, I found the character came to life quickly and seemed to fit a particular name but the name was also somewhat awkward and jarring to the flow of the piece which is very important to me. My writing has to be read-out-loud friendly. But, my dilemma is whether I should keep the character with the name that seems most appropriate and get over my style obsession or compromise her initial portrait for style's sake. I'm leaning toward the latter, but I'm still unsure.

Also on my agenda, writing-wise, is another new character. Like Wallace (a character that recurs in my work and will be a highlight in my novel), I have a new character that seems to want to appear and reappear in my work. His name is Rattle, and two of his stories have been picked up already. I am very eager to see what people think of him. My dilemma here is, if I allow this character to grow and emerge through different short stories, should I also give him a voice? The difference with Wallace is, I always tell the story through his POV or a close third-person narration. Meanwhile, I have written all of Rattle's stories in first person, but never from his perspective. I guess that will be a question better answered when the publications come out, but I am excited about this guy. He's still mysterious enough to me to write quite a bit more about.

We'll see how it all works out. Such writing dilemmas are a good thing. They mean my gears are going. VSC really got me back into the writing swing. And if there's such a thing as residency addiction, I think it's already kicking in because I'm already thinking about my next (month-long) residency, and how I can make this happen. There has to be a way. Focused energy allows so much. It really does.

Before I sign off, I thought I'd share this because this blog is about my writing journey. Below is a taping of my reading from KGB. The awesome Michael Dickes took the footage, and Joani Reese delivered the MP4. If it doesn't work, sorry. I noticed I say um a lot when introducing my work. I guess that's why it's good to tape these things... Anyway, it's really dark but the sound is good. Once I get into the reading, I stop saying um, promise.

Read here is "Getting There" which appears in PANK and a short essay about my Grandpa Homer and a falcon that originally appeared in Narrative Magazine as "Columbus, Ohio." I had so much fun in NYC. Invite me back, NYC!

Have a good week all!

Week 1

2013-02-09T10:04:00.000-06:00

Snow drift early this morning over
the mountains

It has been one week since I landed in Burlington, Vermont and took the shuttle to the small town of Johnson, where the population comes in well under 4,000 and the maple candy is pure. It has been as low as -15F since I've been here, and oh yes, there has been snow. We didn't get hit hard at all by the blizzard, but what reached us was the most snow I've seen at once in a long time.

I was thrilled because I was able to take pictures with my phone today. In the airport, on the way here, I had dropped my phone on the bathroom floor, and it fell to pieces. I was able to put it back together; however, I didn't realize at the time that I had lost my micro-SD card, which meant I couldn't store anything on my phone, including pictures. But, I got a new one last night and voila! I took these on my early morning walk... a few pics post-yesterday's snow. I have to say, it really is like being inside of a snow globe.

It's a little snowier now

If you are considering a residency but have yet to make up your mind as to whether to apply, do! The food is good, the people are cool (though I guess the people would always be different), and the value of free time to write is, as MasterCard would say, priceless TM (they did trademark that, right?). Also, Johnson, VT is adorable. There's pizza, wing, and Chinese restaurants downtown. No grocery store since the flood, but a pretty handy gas station and another deli that sells wine and snacks. There's a headshop (smokeshop), an art store, Ebenezer Books on Main, a cool little coffee shop, a P.O., and a laundromat. That's pretty much the extent of it, but let's be honest, any more would just be distraction.

I am happy to say that I was productive my first week. I have 25 badass pages of revised novel and 160 pages to revise. But, I've done some major adjustments to the book I'm working on here that I think are changing the pace of things dramatically. One of the residents here said something that struck me the other day. He said that if you're not interested in your own work, no one else will be. You have to be excited about it as you create, and if you are, that's exactly how you know you're on the right track. I agree. When I first started on this piece here, I wasn't excited. I just wanted to finish a novel. Now, I'm thrilled. In fact, I want to see what happens next as much as I would if I were reading someone else's work.

Along with my badass novel revision/additions, I have written two new stories top to bottom that star the same character, only neither story is told from his perspective. These new pieces were inspired partly by my interest in animal trivia (in case you haven't noticed) and some of the nature stories I've heard here in Vermont. I developed a rather oddball character, but I love him. I think he's interesting enough to have an entire collection of work devoted to him. We'll see. I hope to write at least one more piece with him in it while here.

So, yeah, I'm energized and ready to write some more. (Conversely, this cold wears a person out! I'm exhausted by 6PM.) I'm technically more than half-way through the residency, so here's to hoping I can get to page 100 of the novel. If I can, I think I could get it ready for an editor by early summer.

In the meantime, please read my new experimental piece in Stone Highway Review. You can read it for free here, or you can support a lit mag and get the beautiful printed version here (see right for the cover image). Thank you, Mary Stone Dockery and Kate Longofono, for putting together such a beautiful body of work. Also soon to come out is the beautiful new issue of Lost in Thought Magazine, which is put out by Kyle Schruder and Robert Vaughan. I got my proof yesterday, and I can't wait to read (and see) the whole thing.

I also had three pieces accepted into the Eunoia Review, which should be appearing this summer. Thanks, Ian Chung, for the mega acceptance. It sure set the right mood when I got here.

Talk about good vibes in Vermont. Now, back to it... I only have a week left!

2013-02-04T13:35:00.000-06:00

Well, I made it to Vermont. I am in the company of visual and literary artists from around the world. It's cool to be a minority as a writer here. I have enjoyed hearing about the artistic visions of painters, photographers and sculptors over breakfast and lunch, who tell me about projects that I can't wait to see realized.

I am writing fiction. To finish or at least come close to finishing my first novel. I won't get more specific than that, but so far so good. I'll be here for two weeks, and I plan to make the most of it. VSC is pretty amazing. The people are awesome; the weather is cold; there are dogs; there is a meditation building that I will visit twice a day; there is tea and coffee; there are blankets; there is a goood view from my studio; and for one of the first times in my life, there is time available to me, specifically, to devote to writing. I'm taking it. I've put in two hours this morning and plan to work for the next four. I can't believe how much I accomplished with two straight hours; it made me realize how little time I really am able to devote to writing in my day-to-day life. Okay, so given the rarity, I must go... write... I'll check in again over the weekend.

This is what I woke up to at 6AM

The meditation building. I was here at 7AM and plan to do the same each day.

The view from my studio

Where I hope to type The End, if only for dramatic effect

Ever since I started meditating

2013-01-29T06:36:00.000-06:00

...more often I've found myself in a really bad mood. Is that common? I've read about a "clearing" stage, but I've been meditating twice a day for two weeks (quite the jump from the occasional cross-legged try here and there), and I noticed it a little the first week but in the last week I've just been snappy. Perhaps it's unrelated, a coincidence, but it's interesting nonetheless.

Despite my bad mood, I have found solace in my readings. I've read some crazy-good work for PANK this week, and I'm judging Otterbein's Quiz & Quill awards this year, and I'm thrilled for these future grads. There are some names in this submission pile that I'll be looking out for. Anyway, my other reason for posting mid-week is: I think this is the coolest thing ever, and I wanted to show off. I have a QR code for my website! I tested it out on my phone, and it works. How awesome! Now I just need to covertly post this everywhere. Perhaps a future in tagging?

I'll try to write a short post this weekend, but in case I don't I'll be checking in. This is it! The big trip! At the end of the week, I will be entering the writing zone.

Housewives do not have the luxury of ecophobia

2013-01-26T11:06:00.001-06:00

I’m reading Tenth of December, and I have to say that George Saunders deserves every bit of praise he has received for this book. What makes him special is that, well, he’s genuinely special. His style is not pretentious or restrained, it's playful and smart and funny; and, and, he’s doing what seems impossible in the literary world: he’s getting acclaim as a short story writer. No stuffy, bogged-down or forced novels needed. His characters know when their time is up, and I can say that each story left me satisfied. Saunder’s crisp, vibrant, free-feeling short stories are changing the scene, and I love him for it. More, I love his interviews. If you want a taste of the fiction, check out the collection's namesake here, published in the New Yorker.

I used to subsist on Hot Pockets.

Good to know there are now cheaper options out there.

My late-blooming love for George Saunders aside, I came to the realization yesterday that if I was a housewife, I would likely die within a few months. This was a hurtful realization because technically being a housewife for me would just mean not working the day jobs, which would, in turn, allow me to write full-time (I'd still be a housewife, not a writer if one is labeling by the way one actually lives day-to-day ie gets the bils paid). Imagine just working part-time... Imagine how much writing I'd get done! But no, it's not going to happen for me. Not that I'd die of boredom or anything symbolic like that. Like I said, I'd write until I could parlay that into a career. But no, I mean, I worry being home too much would actually be the death of me. I'll explain further, but first, a few items to my credit: I keep a clean home (the husband helps out). I have routines. And, since my health scare and subsequent health kick, I have to admit that I’m getting pretty damn good at cooking. I make salmon, burgers (for the husband), quinoa, salads, dynamite smoothies, guacamole, beans and rice, risotto, and a few other things that aren’t microwavable; but this increased time in the kitchen has directly correlated to the increased number of at-home accidents.

According to a handy estate planning article I came across while researching accidents, an American is killed in an at-home accident every 29 minutes. I have one work-from-home day three weeks out of the month, I spend many weekend hours at home, and the occasional vacation or sick day; but overall, I’m not home much. I work two jobs most of the year, and I write in coffee shops or, if at home, I do not much move from my desk. Still, I manage to find myself post-accident at least once a month. Accordingly, I think my odds are higher than most, and if I were home more my days would be numbered.

A few months ago, I brunt my cheek with boiling water (the water had oil in it). The mark is fading and I got a good short story idea from the incident, but it was pretty ugly for a while. I was going into the office with a large bandage on my cheek. And seeing as how the office life thrives on gossip, people found his highly intriguing which I, in turn, found highly annoying. So, while healing from that I thought back to my ironing accident after a few days home years ago. I still have a scar on my arm from that, and I thought, hm, maybe I can never be one of those domestic goddesses I admire. Then yesterday, the maybe was erased as I set a giant plastic spoon on fire while making ravioli. The flames were reaching at me, and it was frightening. I'm not exactly sure how it all happened. All I know is that I had given the ravioli a good stir then (in my unhousewifely way) set the spoon down next to the pot. I was able to put the fire out easily enough, but the melted plastic on the stove was a bitch to clean and the smell was, well, the smell of burning plastic.

Bottom line: I decided yesterday, as I inhaled the post-plastic-melt and apologized to my dog for the scream and frantic running around that I could see was stressing him out, that I will never be a housewife. I'd made this decision when I was a little girl, too, but I just remade it. For practical reasons. My husband and I did enjoy the ravioli though, for the record, as the food itself was not affected.

In writing news, I have contributed a piece of fiction to an anthology geared toward helping the victims of Sandy, the devastating 2012 storm. This anthology is a wonderful effort to help those in New Jersey who are still struggling. You know, we hear about these things and we help immediately, but the aftermath remains. Anyway, if you're a writer or a reader interested, you can get updates on the book, here: OH SANDY! An Anthology of Humor for a Serious Purpose.

Well, if you need me, I'll be spending the weekend packing for Vermont, watching Game of Thrones, and trying to calm my restless mind. Oh, and I have set the goal for myself to write two flash stories this weekend. They can suck, I am allowing myself that right, but they must be written. I need a warm up for the next few weeks. Did I mention I fly out next weekend? I'm excited, a little nervous about not making the most of it, but mostly I'm just thrilled. Damn it, I'm going to get to write!

Cheers! To the weekend!

Off and on

2013-01-20T07:49:00.000-06:00

Ever had one of those days (weeks) when you just feel off? That's me. For instance, I'm chewing a piece of 5 gum right now, a gum brand I usually find satisfying, and for some reason it tastes like paint thinner. I thought I was getting sick but ended up just feeling kind of weak and achy for a few days, so I guess I fought it off. I made many small, avoidable errors at work and in life (oops, forgot my keys; oops, didn't mean to send that email yet; oops, did I just upload the wrong file again?). I was beginning to think that I was subconsciously self-destructing. But really, I think it's just one of those weeks.

I just spit out that gum, and I kind of want another piece. But I'll throw the pack away. Okay, so talking about my ineptitude at life this past week is boring, so on to other things. I read a horrible review of some of my older work, which I know shouldn't but kind of affected me. I did not win the Black River Chapbook competition, but I am still honored to be a finalist; I look forward to reading the winner's book.

Along with my meh and out-of-it news, I have good news! Lots of it.

Writing: I got a piece I really love accepted to JMWW, which is one of my favorite journals to read online. I revised one of the strangest pieces I've ever written. I think it's ready to submit, but I have no idea where it would fit. And see the two new pubs this week.

Reading: My reading life is good because a copy of Hobart 14 arrived in the mail, so I've been devouring that. Also, I received a book from Claire Ibarra, Dreams of Duality, which I won (don't usually win stuff). I look forward to reading it next.

Personal: I went to the dentist and though he did try to sell me a toothbrush, he said I was doing good... no cavities and gums are okay. I bought not one, but two new pillows. I got a $14 haircut that ended up great, better than the $30 one I got a year ago.

And the absolutely best news imaginable: My sister, who has been looking for full-time work for almost five years, got a job! A good job with benefits! At OSU! I couldn't be happier for her. Go Bucks!!!

Two new publications this week:

Thumbnail 4 in Print

And Istanbul Review: THE SCREEN OF LITERATURE

Available this week... In the meantime, check out their website by clicking on the picture. It's amazing, the art they sample that is featured in this issue. I was blown away and can't wait to see the print version.

Off to write... hope you all have an on week.

Meditate, Yeah

2013-01-13T07:54:00.002-06:00

This week's lessons: Energy is energy is energy. It must be channeled. Also, it's far easier to meditate when you're already in a stoic mood.

Man, I've been restless. My restlessness is positive, and I think the result of the fact that I feel great. Since I got sick before the holidays, I've been really (perhaps annoyingly) healthy with a very-little-dairy, no-soy, super veggie-packed diet. My exercise is the same as before (though now with the addition of weekend walks with the husband), and I have energy to burn. Go figure!

The point here is that I need my mediation more than ever. It is important because I tend toward being a bit restless in general (i.e. high strung), which is even easier when I'm healthy and have nothing weighty to distract the mind. Here's my mediation practice, in case you're curious or restless yourself and not good with mediation either: I begin with a breathing exercise in which I take 20 seconds to inhale, 20 seconds to hold my breath, and 20 seconds to exhale (this is the hard part, and it took me a few days to work up to the full minute breath). I do this until my mind slows enough that I can concentrate on my regular breath. I usually can't just dive right into mediation, so this is what has (mostly) worked for me. Then my ten minutes or so begins. It's a mediation trick I've kept around for years, knowing I'd use it regularly one day. Right now, it's coming in handy.

What else? Well, I saw two movies (very peculiar since I rarely go to the movies): Silver Linings Playbook and Django Unchained. I enjoyed them both. Django Unchained was a cartoon-violent, quick-witted, well-acted, difficult-to-watch, only-Quinton Terantino-could-pull-this-off type of movie. Recommendations for going to this movie: 1. Do not go to a theater that serves beer or other alcoholic beverages. Much of my co-audience was loud and stupid. 2. Do not bring your children. Really, people. 3. Go expecting a movie that treats violence and inhumanity like a piece of surreal (Western-themed) art.

Yesterday, I saw Silver Linings Playbook, which was pretty great. I loved that it was about mental illness but still well done. I found the characters of the policeman and the psychologist wholly unbelievable. I found Robert De Niro perfect, and the rest of it... yeah, pretty great. It was just the right mix of funny and sad and slow and fast. Solid pacing, solid acting.

Writing news: I got a solicitation for my short story collection, which I am preparing to submit this weekend. This is good news, but like all good news in my life, a little unnerving because now I want to re-re-review everything before submitting. I really want this next book to be exactly as it should be. I will not allow myself to hurry to publication anymore. But if you love a thing, let it go, right? We'll see what happens.

Also in writing news, I have been working on the Wallace story (Absurd Hunger) in anticipation of my residency in Vermont. I'm excited about it again and had the realization that integrating some of my favorite short story characters will serve the story well. It's coming together like a puzzle in my mind. A years-in-the-making puzzle. I wonder if this is how it's supposed to go with the long works.

Have a beautiful weekend, all. Be healthy; be well; read a book. Or these: FICTION My husband did all the black and white drawings. I'm trying to get him to do one for each of my stories, though I suppose that's keep him busy a while.

Read, Walk, Repeat

2013-01-06T20:32:00.000-06:00

Over the weekend, I thought a lot about Vermont but did nothing to prepare. It's less than a month away, and I have quite a bit to do, but it feels years off for some reason. Or maybe it doesn't feel real. So what did I do this weekend instead? Not much, and it was wonderful. I read and I walked.

Reading:

On my list this weekend was Miranda July's No One Belongs Here More Than You. I bought the book after listening to the "The Swim Team," a short story in this collection, online. That story remains my favorite of the collection. For me, the reading of this book was kind of like buying an entire album because you love a single. July's stories are consistently good, insightful, and oddly humorous; but, I found the novelty of her style lost on subsequent stories. That said, I think this is a book I'll return to, one story at a time. Altogether, the thing blurs.

I also read Sherman Alexie's Blasphemy because a friend was posting about it on Facebook, and again, I have loved the few short stories I've read by Alexie, and I enjoyed Smoke Signals, but I've never read an entire book of his. I'm only a few stories in, and so far, I rather love this collection. His prose is easy to get lost in. As a reader, I forget the literature of the thing and just enjoy and appreciate; also, I'm consistently caught off-guard by the characters. Alexie has his tells--I can't think about his stories without thinking cling peaches and tender but distanced male narrators, for instance--but his work feels new and surprises all over again each time I read him. So far, anyway. Also on my reading list this weekend were the January issue of THRUSH, a few stories at Carve, and quite a few articles.

I read a dozen stories for PANK (I'm back at it, so blame me), and I read two friends' works. Somehow, I also managed to begin watching Game of Thrones (first season). I'm already committed to watch the rest, so I suppose that's an endorsement in of itself, but will reserve judgement until I get through Season I.

Walking:

Along with my modest workout routine, I found myself walking quite a bit. My husband resolved to get in better shape this year, and I want to be a part of it, so we are beginning slow: a walk with the occasional jog around a 2.5 mile loop near our home. And because my dog still expects his 2 mile walks on weekend mornings, and subsequent daily strolls, it all added up to a nice amount of fresh air, which is something I had no idea how much I needed. Walking time is meditation time. Well, unless we see the neighborhood skunk.

When we began dating almost ten years ago, Chris and I would walk in the fancy-pants neighborhoods in Columbus and talk about what we wanted to do and how we had to make it possible. I've rarely but longingly thought of those walks, and now that we're back at it, I feel that old sensation of optimism and hope I had as a beginning writer and college student. As we discuss our goals nowadays, we are focusing on timing our walks and plan to shave a minute off each day. Small goals are the best goals.

So basically I was just entertained all weekend. And I took a lot of walks. How lucky was that? Now, for a full week of being back to the daily chores/obligations/routines. In the meantime, please send me some good vibes. My short story chapbook is a finalist for the Black River Chapbook Competition at Black Lawrence Press. I tend to be the literary equivalent of always-the-bridesmaid-never-the-bride, so I'll accept my finalist status as my own personal win. But man, I'd love to work with BLP. We'll see.

I wish you all a wonderful week. Read and walk, if you find the time. Both are curative.

Wishing You a Happy 2013

2012-12-31T19:19:00.000-06:00

I don't know about you, but I am happy to put 2012 behind me. This was a year of dualism, filled with disappointment and pain as well as much that was divine. There were so many horrific events and so much economic difficulty. And yet, this year was also filled with innovation and hope. Communities came together, and, in hard and even impossible times, people lifted each other up.

My 2012, in summary:

My family faced illness and worry, and we bounced back. I traveled to visit all the members of my family this year. I also went to New York City for the first time to read at the KGB. Thrillingly, I discovered a new favorite writer in Edith Pearlman and found publication of my own short work in two of my all-time favorite journals: Gargoyle (#58) and PANK (as well as many other fine literary venues). I made new friends, and many friends moved away. I made a dent in my student loans, but still have many years to go. The husband and I moved to a larger apartment, where we can actually have our own space. We get along even better now. We both moved up in our positions at work, if slightly. I became very sick and began working to raise awareness about endometriosis in my small way; I was always afraid to write about this illness but no longer am. I became anxious a few times this year but bounced back naturally. I learned to appreciate a little more, cope a little better. I am, I think, on track to being healthier than I've ever been. I didn't write enough, didn't finish my novel, didn't look for an agent; but I am far prouder of what I wrote this year than I've ever been. I know I'm on my way. I've slowed down a bit, but this has helped my writing more than it has hurt. In 2012, for the most part, I did not fight with people who were out to fight. Engaging is losing. I worried over global events (large source of anxiety), but I also found myself in a better position to truly contribute to causes I believe in, to take a stand in my way. This feels good.

In summary, I'm glad 2012 is over and thrilled to begin anew. I have a lot of hope for this new year.

In 2013, I plan to:

Have fun, take risks
Read more
Write more
Give back in the ways that do not drain me
Somewhat conversely, say no more often
Join a local group of some sort: running, foodies, something other than writing that will fuel writing
Support other writers and writing journals
Continue to eat better; workout, but know my limits (again, not too much)
Finish the novel, finish the novel, finish the novel...
Travel more, visit out-of-town friends and family, and make plans to travel out of the country sometime in 2014 (this will take a small financial miracle, but I have hope)
Take a real vacation
Meditate/relax/don't stress over what I can't control
Aprender mucho de azar frases en español y utilizarlos de forma esporádica. En otras palabras, comienzan a estudiar español (correct me if need be... I'm out to learn)

So that's it. I wish you all the best in this new start. We're in this thing together, so I'd love to know your resolutions. Feel fee to share below. Peace. -Jen

Oh, and...

Happy New Year!!!