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Here’s a draft something for Corey’s (Herotomost’s) prompt on With Real Toads, to write something about an experience about which we are uncertain how we feel. This is a bit longer than I intended–I got carried away with the pictures– They are also done in pencil on paper which makes them hard to edit! But enough excuses– Note that the whole picture may not show up on some browsers–if that’s the case click on it. (Or let me know, as maybe I should reduce them.) k.
I’ve been terribly absent from this blog of late and I wanted to send a little heads-up especially to those of you who have been kind enough to wonder and worry.
I have been very busy with work and travel. But, when I’ve had free time, I’ve finally been able to get in touch with one of the old novel manuscripts I am forever trying to finalize. It is a very old manuscript–first written probably at least fifteen years ago. This has made it very hard to pick up again, as there are many things about the style–the pacing and scene choices–that I would not adopt if I were writing it fresh.
My embarrassment about the stylistic choices has been intense enough that for years it has been hard for me to even look at this particular manuscript. At the same time, I could not bear the idea of massive structural revisions (though earlier on I did try some.)
But somehow now, I’ve just accepted the book, more or less, in its basic format. Yes, it has an older-fashioned pacing. Yes, it is very internal, probably a little static.
The content is also difficult. It is about child sexual abuse. No, it is not, thankfully, about me. But, because one colors one’s writings with the palette of one’s life–and I have definitely used elements of myself and of persons known to me to make the characters more real–it has long worried me that readers will assume that the content is true, that it is memoir rather than fiction, and that the book presents accurate descriptions of the real persons who bear similarities to the characters. (It does not.) Of course, I’ve worried that publication could inadvertently cause pain.
So, it’s been a struggle–all these issues still make me very uncertain as to how I will handle the completed manuscript–but I am almost there. The first five to ten pages are not quite right–probably the rest of the pages are not quite right either (!) but beginnings are always incredibly hard for me and especially here where the actual, true first pages were written before the story found its way. Nonetheless, I feel certain that pretty soon, I will either get these pages right, or just accept their current revised form.
Anyway, I want to thank all of you who’ve checked in to the blog. I wish I had a little more mental space as I really miss the wonderful engagement of writing poems, and the friendly back-and-forth of the online poetry community, but for now and a little bit longer, I just don’t have that reach.
Thanks again.
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The photo above is posted from my iPhone–you may need to click on it to see the whole thing.
The above is frost in Spring, covering a tangle of last year’s grasses, this year’s sprouts. I find myself extremely tired right now, and also conscious that all my old pre-blog creative work – i.e. manuscripts of would-be novels – have gotten more and more dried up and tangled. I just don’t seem to have the verve (or time or mental space) to sprout lots of new little pieces (i.e. poems) and finish the weave of these older bigger projects. (I’m not sure the bigger projects are more meaningful than the small, but in the past, I did spend a great deal of time on them.)
So, I’m going to try to redirect my focus for a bit – lighten up on textual posts – try to finish at least one old novel manuscript.
Thanks so much for your very kind support. It has meant (and means) a huge amount to me. Do check in as I am terrible at keeping resolutions and so I will undoubtedly be putting new things up regularly–little elephants, dogs, photos, a camel or two. Maybe even just writing about writing. (Or, you know, a draft poem.)
(I am incorrigible, and believe me, will get readily depressed noveling! But I do feel I have to give those projects a chance.)
Thanks again.
Tired! But Ready To Write! (Maybe!)
I am very tired.
I have always thought of myself as a novelist (not poet!)
It is November 1.
All of these factors lead me to say I hope to substantially cut down on blogging over the next few weeks.
November is “National Novel Writing Month.” (The original Nanowrimo, invented by Chris Baty – not napowrimo or nablopowrimo or any of the weird na-mo’s.) The idea is that if you just have a deadline you can write a novel in a single month.
I have, in the past, continued blogging while also trying to write a one-month novel. But this year, I know that I do not have the time or mental space to devote attention to both a new novel and an ongoing blog.
So, I’m really going to try to discipline myself this month and not blog so much.
All that said, please do check in on this space every once in a while! My discipline is extremely faulty. I will terribly miss you! Also, I’m still on the dVerse Poets Pub staff and will be doing an upcoming prompt this month (and probably participating in some.)
Before I sign off (and I’ll probably end up saying more about this before Tuesday) – please do VOTE! Personally, I support President Obama: because I am a woman who wants equal pay and the control of my own body, because I have a close relative who is about to go to Afghanistan as a serviceman, because I care about the environment, because I believe in science and public education, because I live in a City that is on the front lines of foreign policy bluster, because I live in a City that will need FEMA aid, because I am close to persons who deeply and romantically love others of the same sex. There are a zillion other reasons, including jobs.
Two very compelling endorsements of President Obama: Larry Pressler, Republican South Dakota Congressman and Senator, Vietnam War Vet, here. Also the Salt Lake City Tribune endorsement of Obama is very enlightening, called Too Many Mitts. Read here.
P.S. MANY THANKS TO ALL OF YOU WHO HAVE EXPRESSED CONCERN ABOUT THE WELL-BEING OF MYSELF AND MY FAMILY AND OTHER NEW YORKERS IN THE WAKE OF SANDY! I still have not been home, I’m running out of clothes, but I am so very grateful for your support, and especially for the support of the online poetry community. Thanks Thanks Thanks!
I used to be able to rely on Pearl writing for me.
She did a great job.
Though the transcribing was kind of a pain.
I woke up to a bloggers’ quandary today.
I actually started this blog primarily to popularize (and sell) my books! (At the moment, there are three– comic novel, NOSE DIVE, book of poetry, GOING ON SOMEWHERE, or children’s counting book 1 MISSISSIPPI. )
But pretty soon, blogging took on a life of its own–a life which has kind of crowded out not only the selling of books but the writing of them.
For a while I could rely on Pearl to write the books–but Pearl, like me, is getting old. And blind. And tired. And her writing can be a real b—- to transcribe.
The problem is that it’s a bit lonely to write books and very very lonely to try to get people to read them. While blogging is communal. And being part of a community is fun. And inspiring.
And yet, well, Pearl–that is, Pearl and I–really enjoy book writing, at least in principal.
So, what is to be done?
(Other than teaching Pearl to type. )
Hmmmm…..
Lappup?
Today is November 1, the beginning of National Novel Writing Month, a/k/a Nanowrimo.
Nanowrimo is a very fun program for people who want to kickstart their writing. It provides three very important elements for the struggling writer: a deadline, a community, and, most importantly perhaps, an excuse.
By “excuse”, I mean a reason to give novel writing priority, as in “oh I’m so sorry, I can’t possibly cook the turkey–I have to finish my nanowrimo!”
I have participated in Nanowrimo a few times. (Luckily, my daughters are great cooks.) And actually, amazingly, I am about to publish a book that was first written in a month of November. It is called Nose Dive, and like Nanowrimo itself, it’s a lot of fun. (More on this as the book comes out!)
However, I have also accumulated a number of unfinished manuscripts.
This Nanowrimo month, I am hoping to finish at least one of those.
In order to do this extensive rewriting–which is frankly kind of painful–I really have to force myself to focus, which should mean cutting down on the blogging. (A relief no doubt to subscribers.) I’ll probably still post some short things for the communal sites, like dVerse Poets Pub. (You see, I’m already waffling.) But I really am going to try to force myself to focus on my bigger projects.
Thanks for any good wishes coming my way! And thanks so much for past support.
PS – if you are from dVerse Poets Pub, the link I posted for Open Link night can be found here.
As part of my (kind of random!) exploration of online poetry and prose sites, I am making my first Flash Friday 55 post, which is a post somehow indelibly connected to the G Man, Mr. Know-it=all, and involves the writing of a 55 word story.
Teacher?
When they were good, she let them
color around the Bible verses they’d
copied out.
When they were bad, she had them
stand before the class, and
slap themselves, exhorting as they lapsed
(second graders get tired),
“harder, harder.”
A God-fearing woman, she felt
called to teach them much; the fear part,
they learned.
Drafts!
Kind of a funny evening after a very tense day. The tension I think was chemical–well, partly–modern life is so so busy it makes for tension even in the near comatose. (Also, in this day and age, if you are lucky enough to be employed, you tend to have an awful lot to do.) But I also took an herb this morning, Gingko Biloba, which is meant to protect against brain dulling, but I think, in my case, may have caused brain hypersensitivity.
Then came the evening, which was subsumed in several long and worrisome telephone calls. The great part of having aging parents is having aging parents; the difficult part is having aging parents. The great certainly far outweighs the difficult, but where there is a significant risk of loss, there is the significant fear of loss.
And then, for some reason, I started looking through old draft poems that are on this blog, but virtually in no other file of mine. Although I spent some energy on the drafts on the days I wrote each of them, I then virtually forgot about most of them, never refining, editing or even looking at them.
But tonight, perhaps because I should be working overtime on something else, all those unfinished poems suddenly beckoned.
Partly, this interest in old drafts has been sparked by my recent involvement in various online poetry websites and blogs, which really has been very inspiring.
The glass of wine I had with dinner also seemed to make the call of these old draft poems somewhat more eloquent.
Still! To old notebooks! Drafts! Unfinished manuscripts! Poetry blogs! (Here here!)
Sorry, sorry, the title of this post is a bit misleading. The poem is about picking up the phone, not picking up in a bar. However, bloggers like stats; provocativeness improves stats; and well, I’m sure you are picking up the gist of this.
All that said, here’s the poem:
When you don’t pick up
One reason I hate so much
the times you don’t pick up
is that they throw me into
a certain (but I hope distant)
moment in which you are truly gone
or I am gone, when whichever
of us is left will have
no one to call, though perhaps
we will still call–knowing me, I won’t
be able to stop–but we
will have no one to answer, though certainly
you will try out of steadfast love
to answer, and me because I can never
shut up–but still, it will not
be an answer that says,”I’m coming,
I’m almost there,” or if it does, it will
be that rather tricky coming of
the nearly departed, which, of course,
is not what either of us want exactly,
at least
not at this present moment,
which
is why I really do wish
you’d stay near a phone always
so that I could gather up
your sweet hello
every single time I call and know, yes,
that you are coming, yes,
that you are still here.
(All rights reserved.)
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