Econ 101: Tales of Mystery & Gloom

My completely unscientific survey of attitudes among newly minted teens (total of three interviewed) suggests that Micheal Moore's "Capitalism: A Love Story" is as important to young thinkers now as Rand's novels have been to the same demographic for the last fifty years.

I guess I'm impressed that Moore's fairly predictable essay on financial oppression seems to resonate so powerfully with the junior high set. I don't recall "Bowling for Columbine" as being anything other than darkly amusing to the same population.(But maybe I didn't know enough teens then. Ye gods, did I really write that sentence?)

Wish I had one of those Live Journal thingies. Mood: Hopeful

What it's all about

I currently have two books "out" for consideration by publishers. One is the Louisiana novel, and the other is the ghosty-gothic vsf collection. I may have gotten my little toe in the door with one publisher, so if I'm not very social lately it's because I'm attempting a re-write based on some excellent notes. I was doing this last year at this time, too, but in that case I was trying to inject a project with more commercial elements to please an agent. THAT did not work out. This time, I'm trying to recover the heart of the concept, and in the process my soul as well. It's way easier than you think. As if that weren't motivation enough, years back my old man and I made a deal. If I get a book accepted by an agent or publisher, I get a SECOND pinball machine. This is not the sort of info I can comfortably include in a query letter.

my brain turned over

If writing is the exercise of thinking, then I'm just getting my heart rate up.

This is about revision.

Things I wish I had the energy to do this weekend

I wish I had it together to put on a pig mask and a snow suit and dance around the webcam at night. I'd send the photos to the cell phones of my friend's kids who were just busted for prank calls.

On a gentler note, I'd like to drive into DC and look for parking this holiday weekend with a dried pine tree tied to the top of the car. If we could get it to be a little bit on fire, that would be extra neat.

Happy 4th, everyone.

Project idea

I'm busy with my novel revision this summer, but I did have a great idea for a novella in flash or verse: the story of a smiley-fiction-writer-family-man who drops off the indie-lit radar for months on end to get caught up on his serial killing (once a passion, now a tedious duty). He seizes the chance to combine both vocations when the AWP Conference comes to his home town one frosty February in the future.

Some days are too much

Here's a blurry pic of me at the 510 reading in Baltimore yesterday. Do I look insane enough? The GIANT HEAD in the foreground is one of Timothy Gager's relatives, I believe.

I'm up at 4 this morning, freaking blogging. Yesterday was too full, kicking off with news (not good/not bad) that made it near impossible to focus and enjoy the riches of the day. Here's hoping today brings a bit of perspective. I won't go into detail about the news except to say that I received some amazing notes about my novel, but moving forward means serious revision, and even then the future is iffy. This kind of situation usually energizes the hell out of me, but the wave hasn't struck yet.

Prick of the Spindle 4.2 went live yesterday, and the issue is the first that I have been fully involved in as the newly minted Fiction Editor. For Father's Day, I recommend Carmen Lau's "Taking Care," one of my favorite pieces in the issue. Also, DO NOT MISS Art Taylor's "Mrs. Marple and the Hit-and-Run," a story that does something completely new and lovely with sleuth narrative. In the poetry section, Lucy Jilka has three featured pieces that will knock you flat, and over in interviews I'm talking to Danny Collier about his web poetry project, An Abbreviated Family Dictionary. This issue also marks my official debut as a reviewer. Erin McKnight and I dogpile Michelle Reale's chap, Natural Habitat, with two reviews, and I've also reviewed Jacob Paul's novel Sarah/Sara.

Late in the day we headed off to Baltimore, to the fantastic Minas Gallery for the last 510 reading before summer break. Thank you Jen Michalski for inviting me out to read with Timothy Gager, Bill Black, and Curtis Smith, and I apologize for our group ADHD. I do regret not joining the crowd for dinner after, but my head was swimming with too much weird to do any socializing.

Updates

Just putting this pic up to provoke Jason J. Harriet is doing well in her second week of broke-leg boredom and has been upgraded from the pink to yellow bandage (not really an upgrade, but don't tell her that). She has at least 3 more weeks of this crap. The vet told us to keep her "still". Oh yeah? she's a 10 month old kitten, with an 11 month old kitten soul mate. She is still an expert climber, but not such a good getting-down-er.

In other news, it looks like I'm going to be in the year end Moon Milk Review anthology, which is thrilling. I met MMR editor Rae Bryant at the Dzanc National Workshop Day fund raiser workshop sponsored by Barrelhouse back in March, where we discovered we shared a lot of common ideas about new fiction. I LOVE MMR, and I'm really stoked about this.

510 Reading Series, June 19--Me and some real writers

I'll be in Baltimore this Saturday for a 510 Reading along with Curtis Smith, Timothy Gager, and Bill Black. I'm pretty sure that I'm the weak sister in this line-up, seeing as I don't have a book. So I went out and bought an outrageous witch-style blouse. Imagine this in drippy font: You Will Remember Meeeeee . . .

Geographically, Baltimore is not that far away, but psychically? Holy crap, the things they do with words.

Hope to see you there--I'll be the crazy lady in the silly tunic.

Pank Little Books: ETHEL!!!!!

It's already shaping up to be an interesting week. Not only am I reading for SLQ, last night I found out that I made the shortlist of finalists for the second year of Pank's Little Books series. Last year they published Aaron Burch’s HOW TO TAKE YOURSELF APART, HOW TO MAKE YOURSELF ANEW, a sweet book gorgeously produced. Like a lot of writers lately, I'm a wee bit frustrated by the crickety silence out there--making the finals is more than I hoped for.

This year they are publishing three books by these fine writers: Matt Salesses, Nicolle Elizabeth, and (drum-roll): ETHEL ROHAN. That Ethel is getting Hard to Say published has Crabtree & Evelyn-reeking fists pumping in the air all over indie-ana. Really, it means a lot to us.

I AM This Week's Reader @ Smokelong Quarterly!!

So excited to be the guest editor reading submissions that come in Monday, June 7 to Sunday, June 13 for the Smokelong Weekly feature at SLQ. I think these come in blind, but I'm not sure. I hope I pick someone totally insane.


Submit!

Write me this?

I can't find anything at Borders that tickles my fancy, so maybe someone will do up a custom job for me? An evolving list of what bits I want in a novel right now:


-220 pages. 178 even better. 178 pages is my favorite length.

-Gothic mouth feel

-Black comedy

-GREEN and shadowy. Belize? Ireland?

-Discovery in a box of photographs YES, in a box of documents NO

-Characters who make decisions

-Characters who are smarter than me

-Characters with physical features that could either bug you or turn you on, depending on your mood (broken nose, wonky eye, ape torso, etc)

-3rd person narrator fluent in wit and steam

-PIE. I don’t like pie in real life, but in novels I love pies

-Wrath, pride, lust, envy, gluttony. Greed and sloth not so much.

-Accidental interrogations

-Woman against nature

-Philadelphia Story with middle class psychopaths

-“Say something once, why say it again!?”

-Adult siblings with intense relationships YES, Dynasties with fearsome blank-riarchs NO

-Water—a lake or an ocean. Not a river.

-Beverages, patio living

-A long held secret that is not be about child abuse. geez

-Fortune, not fate

-A broad view, narrow focus

-Disorganized crime

-Unusual hobbies, explained quite a bit

-Jolly godlessness

-A genuine finish. There Will Be Blood, yeah?

Genuine Question: about novels

I know the obvious answer must be that I'm reading the wrong stuff, but why are novels so repetitive? It seems to me that a significant chunk of the long form is given over to stating and restating conditions and rationalizations that have already been decently established. The repetitive habit almost seems like etiquette, not immediately meaningful.

While I worked, Dean made this with his rovio

This week's to-do list, plus a time-waster

First week of vacay is over, and now begins week two, in which I have to Get Shit Done. Here are a bunch of to-do items beginning with "-ing" words:

--hoping to craft my review of Jacob Paul's novel, Sarah/Sara, for possible inclusion in the next issue of Prick of the Spindle. It's a fascinating book that builds its themes carefully and finishes with a genuinely nerve-wracking final act. My main anxiety approaching the book is my ignorance of Jewish orthodoxy, but I feel confident I have something to say about how this book deals with youth and tragedy. (the narrator is journaling as she kayaks the Alaskan coast solo after her parents are killed in a cafe bombing in Israel)

--trying to put together an interview/profile thingie to showcase Danny Collier's An Abbreviated Family Dictionary. (Danny will be playing the part of himself in this production)

--finishing up reading fiction submissions for PotS. Only just realized there are leftover subs from the last issue adrift in the transition among processes and editorial staff.

--trimming down the manuscript of my creepy vsf collection Curio, for possible submission to the Black Lawrence chapbook contest.

--buying new Keen sandals. (my feet hurt)

--straightening up spare room--Molly might be camping out with us in early June, and Mom is definitely coming late June. Nephew Jake a possible for mid-summer.

Time waster: put these in order--

buffet pizza
mountain pizza
beach pizza
grocery "deli" pizza

Listed! (long short this time)

One of the best things about the Wigleaf Top 50 is that it comes at a time of year when I'm usually on vacation, so I never expect it. I'm so thrilled to have made this year's Long Shortlist with "The Temple Dog," a story that Adam Robinson took for Everyday Genius. BTW, 5 of the top 50 came from EG. Thanks Scott, Ravi, and Adam. No one works harder for the art.

This year's Top 50 is stellar, take your breath way stuff.

Valerie Sherwood, Author

So I did some slight research on the author of Rich, Radiant Love, featured in the post previous. Valerie Sherwood, born Jeanne Hines of WV, wrote 4 novels in the series:
1. Bold Breathless Love, August 1981
2. Rash Reckless love, June 1982
3. Wild Willful Love, October 1982
4. Rich Radiant Love, June 1983

And this comes from a romance writer profile page (I think for a book of photos):

"I write in great creative bursts-not every day," trills Sherwood, author of five chunky bestselling historicals, including Bold Breathless Love, Her Shining Splendor and This Loving Torment (six weeks on the New York Times paperback best-seller list). Inspiration strikes "in short bursts of ten or twenty pages or through the night till the dawn comes up"-with such formidable force that she is forever wearing through her typewriter keys. Furthermore, says Sherwood, she doesn't believe writers who boast in public that they toil daily in disciplined routines: "I think it has something to do with their taxes." Sherwood (a.k.a. Jeanne Hines) and her husband bounce among their five East Coast homes but spend most of their time in a fusty Charlotte. N.C., ranch-style house, surrounded by 11,000 research volumes (among them a sizable collection on witchcraft), "oodles" of never-worn dress-up clothes and six cats, who have a suite all to themselves ("To Fuzzy," reads one book dedication to a passed-away pet, "who smiled at adversity"). Born to West Virginia "landed gentry," Sherwood worked as a reporter and fashion magazine illustrator as well as a writer of gothics before turning to the more lucrative romance business five years ago. "My family thought I'd be just like everybody else, get married and stop," says she. "I'm a real character. I'm not really like anybody I know."

The beach house book shelf

oh my.

trying to make the sun shine

I'm getting ready to go to the outer banks next week in hopes of getting in some kayaking and sleep, but I'm a little on edge, waiting for news about two book projects. I am happy to report that I finally started on something new--well, to be honest, it's another cabin thriller, so not new at all, except that I'm trying to write it as a novella. So far it's coming out in 1 page segments with few transitions, and any exposition is deliberately brusque and graceless. Some of the newer pieces in my ghosty-vsf collection are like that as well, with my story in the next Smokelong Quarterly being a good example.

The novella is about middle aged siblings taking post-rehab refuge in their family bay house near Port Aransas, Texas. I've been there only once many years ago, but it was an unforgettable trip, full of drama, beer, and apocalyptic jellyfish.
---
Lotta interesting stuff out there to read this week, but I keep going back to this interview by Art Taylor where he's talking to Alex Heard about his book The Eyes of Willie McGee. Also, you should check out 'Other' soon. They can't keep this up forever.

Michelle Reale's Natural Habitat, a review

Natural Habitat
By Michelle Reale
Burning River, 2010

Friday nights we all went out to dinner as a family. The Pike Family Restaurant had “homestyle” cooking, dull wood paneling and accepted cash only. . . The five of us squeezed into a booth and held the large sticky menus in front of us like we were reading for pleasure.

--From “Bonding”

As very short fiction moved from its boutique, periphery status towards the center of literary action, did anyone anticipate the rescue and recovery of the domestic story? Probably not, otherwise we wouldn’t be struggling against labels like flash or sudden that promise breathless tricks and mind bending facility, but do nothing to prepare us for the soulful narratives of family, class, and place that come to us from writers like Michelle Reale. The twelve brief stories in Reale’s new collection called Natural Habitat, from Burning River Press, have all been published previously. You might have come across two or three, recognized their intersections and thought, Oh, Michelle is worrying a theme. Deliberately, each of these stories is like a house in a dream-faded neighborhood where only children and dogs are happy, and even then just briefly.

As an object, Natural Habitat is irresistible. The cover of the 5x5 inch paperback features a tinted image of a wretched building, providing the first glimpse into the fictive neighborhood that Reale builds for us, story by story. The community is inspired by her childhood memories as she explains in the introduction: “That house, that neighborhood and the blocks surrounding it which included most of my relatives, the few friends I had, our parish and our school, were my entire life.” And so we might brace for nostalgia, but instead we get something gothic, the darkness of the lost and losing:

The older son swats at the bat with the broom, but the bat flies with ease, high and then low. Jesus hangs on his cross and watches. One by one the children leave the room. Dinner will be set for them somewhere.

--From “And She Flew”

Reale gives us emotional images, free of pretense and excuse. Her children are worried children. Her adults have moved past worry into a world with only one mystery left. Food binds and divides. Cigarettes are desperate flags. Sexuality and cancer are equal specters, hovering over every conversation. From the claustrophobia of the first story to the uncertain release of the final, moments accumulate across these very short narratives to create the feel of a novelistic world while shaking off the mannered dreams of conventional forms.

home schooling

Trying to teach myself how to write reviews, but I've run into a few complications. Turns out I'm full of shit. Plus once I take a really close look at a book, I either like it too much or hate it like poison. That's not rational.