Alright you tenaciously creative monsters: I have made some very important decisions and commitments about my writing lately, and it is damn well time that I build them a sail for exploring the quivering wave-tips of the internet.
The most exciting development is that I have decided I want to work on compiling a book. I have enough poems that I feel proud enough of, or feel I could wrangle into something I am very proud of, that I have realized it's time to build my boat for bigger leagues. I still plan on putting together another chapbook by the end of next month.
I see this as something that will be helpful in my word-winnowing process. It will be like a pre-publishing and I will ask folks for feedback about what I have put out already.
My throat gets lovely jitters when I think about this project. I have a few presses already in mind and don't want to think to horribly seriously about where to send this book which I have yet to form. But if you or somebody you know has a potential lead on a publisher which would be amenable to my work, style, and personality, please send me some info!
Development number 2 is mainly on the jobfront. I have decided (with some help from an incredible new acquaintance!) to apply for jobs in the tech writing field. I have previously let myself feel incompetent and intimidated about these kinds of jobs but well, screw that. I have a bitchin' handle on the written word and would like to be on the market for those skills specifically. Move over Grammar Nazis, I'm aiming to be Mother Teresa with my red pen (instead of a rosary).
Development #3 is more of an update. I am once again redoubling my efforts toward getting writers together. Last weekend I treated myself to a delicious writing group with a group of writers in Olympia (I moved away 5 months ago) and I was so deeply inspired that I NEED to make more space in my current town (Seattle) for writers to breathe out loud!
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
My so-far review of Skin by Dorothy Allison
I just started reading Skin by Dorothy Allison. I so vocally loved and was so deeply touched by reading Bastard Out of Carolina this summer that a friend put Skin in my hands and really I am loving it already. I'm only one essay in but the bravery with which she calls out the complexity of the relationships people have with their cultural, sexual, and soci-economic places in society is thus far brilliant, astounding, and miraculously approachable.
I know it is intrinsically hopeless to compare feelings and situations of oppression however it is important for me to state that while I identify the with the feelings of non-entitlement and the feeling of "what if they found out I'm not really supposed to be here?" in academic and activist circles I recognize that my experiences growing up were nowhere near as violent and/or pronouncedly financially underprivileged. The feelings of pride in and love for family and the discontinuity with any cultural story/myth provided have thus far been beautifully expressed in Allison's words. I am very grateful for the bifurcation about the cultural stories surrounding the poor that she so articulately unmasks. If you are poor those in higher position only have two lenses to access your life: 1) you are squalid and deserving of both your hardships and the contempt in their eyes 2) You are honorable, hardworking and intrinsically good (in some cases willingly bearing the oppression seen as necessary to our cultural/financial infrastructure). You are either a silent, noble martyr or essentially a criminal.
When I look back at my past I definitely see myself operating under this paradigm. In the past I have felt like an imposter when I said I was a poet/writer. I wasn't published and certainly didn't feel initially included into or invited into writing communities (I remember a poster they had up at one point making a joke about homelessness). My legitimacy as a writer was dependent on the views of others (like the morality of the noble poor). I came to the social space of writing waiting for contempt and ready to be ashamed. I let the fact that I made mistakes and didn't always do the "right" thing make me feel undeserving of scholarships and grants which I shied away from applying for. I felt like I didn't have a language to talk about my family in academia, except in that characitured way.
After a few years of complaining to friends in conversations or classes about social justice that there was or seemed to be nothing written and really no vocabulary to even talk about classism (which funnily enough google crome refuses to recognize as a real word...) the way we talk about or write about other forms of oppression I feel deeply refreshed and affirmed by Allison's writing an perspective.
I am excited to read more and would highly recommend this book to anybody who has felt illegitimate in a community they chose and didn't know or maybe suspected why.
I know it is intrinsically hopeless to compare feelings and situations of oppression however it is important for me to state that while I identify the with the feelings of non-entitlement and the feeling of "what if they found out I'm not really supposed to be here?" in academic and activist circles I recognize that my experiences growing up were nowhere near as violent and/or pronouncedly financially underprivileged. The feelings of pride in and love for family and the discontinuity with any cultural story/myth provided have thus far been beautifully expressed in Allison's words. I am very grateful for the bifurcation about the cultural stories surrounding the poor that she so articulately unmasks. If you are poor those in higher position only have two lenses to access your life: 1) you are squalid and deserving of both your hardships and the contempt in their eyes 2) You are honorable, hardworking and intrinsically good (in some cases willingly bearing the oppression seen as necessary to our cultural/financial infrastructure). You are either a silent, noble martyr or essentially a criminal.
When I look back at my past I definitely see myself operating under this paradigm. In the past I have felt like an imposter when I said I was a poet/writer. I wasn't published and certainly didn't feel initially included into or invited into writing communities (I remember a poster they had up at one point making a joke about homelessness). My legitimacy as a writer was dependent on the views of others (like the morality of the noble poor). I came to the social space of writing waiting for contempt and ready to be ashamed. I let the fact that I made mistakes and didn't always do the "right" thing make me feel undeserving of scholarships and grants which I shied away from applying for. I felt like I didn't have a language to talk about my family in academia, except in that characitured way.
After a few years of complaining to friends in conversations or classes about social justice that there was or seemed to be nothing written and really no vocabulary to even talk about classism (which funnily enough google crome refuses to recognize as a real word...) the way we talk about or write about other forms of oppression I feel deeply refreshed and affirmed by Allison's writing an perspective.
I am excited to read more and would highly recommend this book to anybody who has felt illegitimate in a community they chose and didn't know or maybe suspected why.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
As promised: (books!)
A short preface: I have been a pretty serious student for the past five academic years (4 years undergrad L.A. studies graduating with 40+ extra credits and the past year spent DEEP in grad school). This meant having fewer opportunities than I would've liked to read exactly what I wanted. And now for the first time in about 4 years I have a giant stack of books on my nightstand that I got to choose! This makes me gratuitously happy. It's kind of ridiculous.
I just re-established and updated my goodreads account with my summer and fall reads so I have a good reference for the books I want to talk about.
Yesterday I finished reading The Eyre Affair. It was deliciously childish. The action never dipped too far into overbearing. I was surprised every time I put it down that the amount of "action" type stuff that had happened (as the snooty reader in me finds such things in most cases to be fluffy overkill). It reminded me of both Harry Potter (in it's complexity level and attention to detail) and Roald Dahl (in it's clearly playful and unashamedly ridiculous moments). It brought canon literature (perhaps a bit too classically wesatern/euro loaded) into a blissfully public and hilariously diluted cultural pastime. I thought the protagonist was a pleasantly strong female character although I could definitely feel that the book was not written by a woman. The world itself and the problems it presented are the true gems of this book (and hopefully the series!). It was dynamic and playful. Stylistic to the point of being unpleasant to some I am sure, but totally up my alley. And worth trying out if you want a ludicrous escape from academic ideas and conversations about literature.
The writing group's first meeting is drawing near and my mind is spinning like a beehive with wingfuls of ideas and anxiety. My short list of books/readings to bring looks like this:
Writing Down the Bones--N. Goldberg (my favorite book about writing to date)
(essay) Poetry is Not a Luxury--A. Lorde (she gave beautiful and precise words to what I have long believed about poetry)
Writing Without Teachers--P. Elbow (he uses cooking metaphors to great effect to illustrate writing processes)
(poem) A Ritual to Read Each Other--W. Stafford (I am going to post this poem later and write more about it)
Fruitflesh: Seeds of Inspiration for Women who Write--G. Brandeis
And a copy of the Evergreen State College Writing Center's yearly publication Inkwell (which I co-editor-in-chiefed last spring)
(I'll also be bringing copies of my chapbook but don't intend for them to be a focus of the meeting)
Making this list has actually put me in the mind that maybe this writing group should have a collective library of books about writing/for writers/suggested by other writers. Wouldn't that be amazing?
This list has also made me want to make separate post on a few of the resources listed. I will probably make corresponding posts for Writing Down the Bones (which is a truly phenomenal read), Poetry is not a Luxury, and A Ritual to Read Each Other. Also I think I should design a post around the article I wrote for Inkwell, perhaps feature another as well if it seems appropriate.
For the writing group I still need to hash out what I want the meeting to look like in case things oscillate toward the awkward. I also need to compile a list of games and activities I think writers would like to play/do.
Looks like I've got my work cut out for me! See you next time folks!
I just re-established and updated my goodreads account with my summer and fall reads so I have a good reference for the books I want to talk about.
Yesterday I finished reading The Eyre Affair. It was deliciously childish. The action never dipped too far into overbearing. I was surprised every time I put it down that the amount of "action" type stuff that had happened (as the snooty reader in me finds such things in most cases to be fluffy overkill). It reminded me of both Harry Potter (in it's complexity level and attention to detail) and Roald Dahl (in it's clearly playful and unashamedly ridiculous moments). It brought canon literature (perhaps a bit too classically wesatern/euro loaded) into a blissfully public and hilariously diluted cultural pastime. I thought the protagonist was a pleasantly strong female character although I could definitely feel that the book was not written by a woman. The world itself and the problems it presented are the true gems of this book (and hopefully the series!). It was dynamic and playful. Stylistic to the point of being unpleasant to some I am sure, but totally up my alley. And worth trying out if you want a ludicrous escape from academic ideas and conversations about literature.
The writing group's first meeting is drawing near and my mind is spinning like a beehive with wingfuls of ideas and anxiety. My short list of books/readings to bring looks like this:
Writing Down the Bones--N. Goldberg (my favorite book about writing to date)
(essay) Poetry is Not a Luxury--A. Lorde (she gave beautiful and precise words to what I have long believed about poetry)
Writing Without Teachers--P. Elbow (he uses cooking metaphors to great effect to illustrate writing processes)
(poem) A Ritual to Read Each Other--W. Stafford (I am going to post this poem later and write more about it)
Fruitflesh: Seeds of Inspiration for Women who Write--G. Brandeis
And a copy of the Evergreen State College Writing Center's yearly publication Inkwell (which I co-editor-in-chiefed last spring)
(I'll also be bringing copies of my chapbook but don't intend for them to be a focus of the meeting)
Making this list has actually put me in the mind that maybe this writing group should have a collective library of books about writing/for writers/suggested by other writers. Wouldn't that be amazing?
This list has also made me want to make separate post on a few of the resources listed. I will probably make corresponding posts for Writing Down the Bones (which is a truly phenomenal read), Poetry is not a Luxury, and A Ritual to Read Each Other. Also I think I should design a post around the article I wrote for Inkwell, perhaps feature another as well if it seems appropriate.
For the writing group I still need to hash out what I want the meeting to look like in case things oscillate toward the awkward. I also need to compile a list of games and activities I think writers would like to play/do.
Looks like I've got my work cut out for me! See you next time folks!
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