Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Snowing. On. March. 30th. Seriously.

Or, rather: Seriously?

Am I crazy or didn't we used to wear shorts to school in March back in middle and high school? (Surely we were crazy, but that's not the point. The point is that it was at least possible, if not advisable, reasonable, and whatever other -able you can think of.) 

Yes, it's real, true snow you see. In March. 

Have I actually done anything today?

Do you ever think about the basic facts of your day? I can't say that I usually do, but I'm sitting here, alternately writing an assignment for my students, working on an assignment of my own, checking my e-mail, and reading blogs, and I start to hear this noise. A small, phlegmy-sounding noise. I'm like, What in the world is that? 

Oh, it's P.J. She's snoring on the back of the chair about a dozen feet away. And, for some unknown reason, this makes me think, I'm sitting in my house with a snoring cat. What else do I have to say for myself today? What I've come up with isn't impressive: 

-- I'm on Mt. Dew number 3. (Yeah, it's that kind of day.) 
-- Still wearing the fleece pants and t-shirt I slept in, despite having gone to the chiropractor this morning. 
-- Oh, and I'm wearing Brad's one-size-fits-all men's bathrobe. (Very comfy.) Spent half the morning wearing the coat I'd thrown on to go to the chiropractor, so this seems like a step in the right direction. 
-- For lunch, I ate pistachios. More than I usually eat for lunch, but still nothing to cheer about. 
-- My socks don't match. 
-- There's a random black glove sitting next to me on the couch. 

And my cat is snoring. It's just about the cutest thing (next to this sweet strange breathing Fuzzy was doing last week while laying on me - I videotaped it with my phone), and I have no idea why it's motivated me to think about the absurdity of my day, but there it is.

In the Trenches

Tomorrow I will begin teaching The Hours to my class of freshmen for the second half of our fiction unit. The above title might at first seem more applicable to the first part of the unit - for which we read The Things They Carried, Tim O'Brien's classic, 1990 National Book Award-nominated collection of short stories about the Vietnam War, memory, and storytelling - but I assure you, it's not. 

My students loved O'Brien's book even more than I hoped they would. And it makes sense: I was their age when I was first introduced to his work, and over the years he has come to be possibly my favorite author (though there's a strong case for the award going to Hemingway). 

While for me and certainly those generations older than me (read: those who were alive during the Vietnam War or its immediate aftermath), the potential stickiness of the topic is obvious. But these students are too young to have any investment in Vietnam and, to a large extent, anything more than the most superficial knowedge about Vietnam. And so, while the book's stance (anti-Vietnam Wat, though decidedly not anti-American soldier) is surely contentious to me or you, none of them seemed to interpret this as a political issue and, therefore, none took umbrage with it. 

Michael Cunningham's 1999 Pulitzer Prize-winning The Hours (which was the original working-title of Virginia Woolf's 1923 novel Mrs. Dalloway), however, is a littttttttle bit of a different story. 

Some of you may have seen the (very gripping) movie with Meryl Streep (love her!), Nicole Kidman, and Julianne Moore (who I could totally do without). It came out when I was a junior in college, so, 2003 or 2004. If you have seen it, jog your memory a bit. Yep, there you go - now you know why I'm anxious to see how teaching this book will go over with a group of freshman. Two of whom are in seminary. Many of whom have probably never interacted with a person they knew to be gay. 

Nicole Kidman as Virginia Woolf 
Basically, the novel follows the lives of three women in three very distinct historical time periods - the 1920s, 1950s, and the very end of the 20th century. One of these women is an open lesbian, another (a fictionalized version of Woolf) suffers from debilitating mental illness that leads to suicide, and the third contemplates suicide b/c she feels suffocated by her role as a 1950s suburban housewife. Oh, and did I mention Richard? He's a gay man suffering from AIDS, which has basically eaten away a large part of his brain. 

Yesterday, after they finished their peer workshop on their papers, I put a few of the book's "thematic concerns" on the board for them to consider as they read. My list looked something like this: 

Gender - questioning the traditional definitions and roles; questioning the relations b/t genders 
Sexuality - homosexuality, heterosexuality, bisexuality 
Mental illness/"madness" - how is it represented in society? in fiction? what are the effects of its being stigmatized? 
Performing "roles" - what does it mean to be a "wife," "mother," etc. 

There were not a few wide eyes when I mentioned "homosexuality." I was impressed, however, that when I asked for the difference b/t sex and gender (which, interestingly, we also talked about in my theory class later in the day), someone actually had an accurate answer. That, if nothing else, seemed promising. 

After a book focusing on all male characters, I'm glad to throw some female in the mix, but this experience might end up being one minefield after another. However, if I don't expose them to these issues, who will? I guess we'll see how this goes . . . .

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Big Freakin' News!

The moment that probably, well, none of you except Brad have been waiting for . . . . 

I'm going to be a published fiction writer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Scream with me! Ahhhhhhhhhh! I'm so happy! 

And it gets even better - there's $ involved! 

Here's the scoop: two months ago I was flipping through Brad's Poets & Writers and I came to the contests page. Well, I says to myself, Self, you might as well enter this one and that one b/c they don't sound so bad and they ain't so expensive. So I enter this one (but then forget about that one) - I pay my $15 and send off my short-short (usually 1000 words or less) through the online system - and then I go on my merry way . . . 

My celebratory flowers, courtesy of 
my hubby 
Yesterday, late afternoon, I get the most unbelievable e-mail: I won (!) and my story will be published in a print journal (!) and then on the website of the group that sponsored the contest (!) and . . . the prize is . . . $1000! 

!!!!!!! 

I don't know if I can possibly convey how exciting this is for me. The profs that I told today seemed actually impressed by the journal my piece is going to come out in - which was awesome since I know about 15 journals (the biggies - Ploughshares, Glimmer Train, Threepenny Review, Tin House, Epoch, etc.) and am generally clueless about the others, many of which are very good. And, not only am I getting paid for my writing, but I'm also going to be a real, true published author! I can finally say I'm a fiction writer and not feel like a fraud! 

The scholarly article publications are exciting, of course, and I'm not denigrating their importance and value at all. But I am a fiction writer at heart, and fiction is my love, and beyond all that, fiction is art. And art is what I love. So, this is HUGE for me. And, it's amazing motivation to get back to work on that novel this summer and send out my darn stories!

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Yummy yummy True Blood

Ryan Kwanten, aka Jason I've-got-
more-muscles-than-you-knew-
existed Stackhouse
(Okay wait, that kind of sounds like I'm talking about the synthetic blood drink . . . no, no, I stick to Mt. Dew and Starbucks, I swear.) 

After watching Season 1, I feel comfortable making the following assertions: 

-- The show's awesome
-- And it's pretty much all about sex
-- And that's okay b/c the vast majority of characters are scrumptious: Jason, Sam, Bill, Sookie, Eric (even if he's an a-hole), Lafayette, Amy (even if she's unbearably annoying), even Dawn. 

Okay, plus the acting's good, the stories are compelling, and they know how to do mystery/suspense. Brad and I suspected every single person of being the Season 1 murderer (well, every single guy) except for the person it actually was. And yet, that storyline was totally believable. And satisfying. 

If you saw the Sept. 2010 Rolling Stone cover with Anna Paquin, Stephen Moyer, and Alexander Skarsgard, then you know why I wanted to watch these beautiful people award-winning actors. I'm mean, yikes. 

BUT, if you need more than fabulous bodies to entice you (I shudder to think such a thing is possible!), I've got some "legitimate" reasons in my bag of tricks, too. (And, I'm about to contradict my claim that it's all about sex. Except I did say it was pretty much all about sex - not completely.) The show is timely, relevant, and unabashedly provocative in its engagement with 

Eeks! they're oozing sex all over my blog! 
-- homosexuality and intolerance/ignorance 
-- political hypocrisy (also know as "hypocritism" by me) 
-- racism and race relations (vamps and humans in the show, obviously - given the deep South setting, however, the real race issues are barely even under the surface) 
-- extreme, fundamental religion 
-- drug laws and enforcement 

and surely myriad other topics that I've been too dense to notice. 

Further, it should be noted that I praise the show not out of the now-popular adoration of all-things-vampire. I got over Buffy long ago, circa 1999, and I think the cult following it has achieved is, well, silly. It's really not all that good, and Sarah Michelle Geller's voice is fantasically irritating. It always sounds like she needs to clear snot out of her throat. (As some of you know, there's nothing like an annoying voice to prickle me.) While Brad and I religiously watched Angel during my early college years, that was less a function of quality (which, decidedly, is not high) and more a function of that's-what-was-on-TNT-when-Law-&-Order-reruns-weren't. 

And while I do love the Underworld movies and 30 Days of Night, I ask you, Who in her right mind doesn't!? 

Basically, True Blood's a smart show that will draw you in in no time flat. It might even make you think. And did I mention how sexy it is?

Saturday, March 26, 2011

0 for 5 or 5 for 5? (Are you a Pessimist or an Optimist?)

In the past 10 months I have applied to - and been rejected from - 5 conferences. Actually 4 conferences, b/c I submitted twice to ALA. The others: Conference on College Composition and Communication (CCCC), the Narrative conference, and MLA, my most recent diss. 

I got the "Thanks, but no thanks" e-mail from the MLA panel organizer just this Monday, four minutes before I got the e-mail telling me my article was accepted by the journal I'd submitted to. Unsurprisingly, the article acceptance trumped any disappointment I might have felt (which was minor anyway - an MLA rejection is pretty much a given). 

Still, my streak is worth noting and appreciating. If, like me, you are a realist - I balk at the claim that I'm a pessimist! - I'm 0 for 5, quite the feat of loserness. Can I can go 0 for 10 by the end of 2011? Butcher found me a good panel at the Modernist Studies Association (MSA) conference, and there are 1 or 2 others there that I might submit to, so the possibility for getting to 10 in the next 9 months seems wholly possible. 

However, the optimists out there might say I'm 5 for 5. Five tries and five rejections: I'm nothing if not consistent! 

Although, even if you are a so-called optimist (or, what I yesterday termed "delusional" while talking to the chiropractor), you can't get around the fact that this is still an amazing feat of loserness . . .

I think I've found my calling

Every day is Women's Day. Or at least it ought to be 

Okay, that whole calling thing is a bit of an exaggeration, especially b/c you most likely need to have a lot more energy than I do to respond to a calling, but I do think I've found something (finally!) that I like re: literary/critical theory. 

It should surprise, well, no one that what I'm talking about is feminist theory. It doesn't surprise me, as I always figured if something was going to interest me in terms of theory, it would be feminist, but even so, it's a pleasant revelation b/c I've definitely got no love for deconstruction and the rest of post-structuralism nor for reader response theory. 

And, as it turns out, this year in my papers I've actually been using some of these fem. theory concepts (and even some of the theorists) without knowing it. And, just as interestingly, the little that I've read so far is ridiculously applicable to my own fiction. It's making me think about my own work and its preoccupations in a whole new light. 

Talking about the prevalence of illness in women's fiction/poetry, for instance, Susan M. Gilbert and Sandra Gubar (whose Madwoman in the Attic I read part of - and loved - last semester, having no idea it was feminist theory) explain, "the woman writer feels herself to be literally or figuratively crippled by the debilitating alternatives her culture offers her, and the crippling effects of her conditioning sometimes seem to 'breed' like sentences of death in the blood shoes she inherited from her literary foremothers." Um, yeah - like, this kind of stuff is all over my work. Who knew I was writing in some kind of tradition (albeit - and I have to say this - one hindered by the patriarchy)? I kind of feel empowered. (Brad is now officially wary of my taking feminist theory this coming fall - and to think, not two days he was encouraging it.) 

Just the other day, one of my classmates asked me if all this theory stuff is affecting my creative writing. I responded, "That's such a cute idea - like I have time to write creatively right now." But had I answered her seriously, I would've said, No, I think most of the stuff is either nonsense or it's interesting and has no place in practical discussions of creative work and no place in actually doing that work. Now, I'm not so sure about that. 

As for a theoretical stance apart from my own fiction, this fits me pretty well; it's in line with my interests, my politics, and my concerns (even while Kristeva and surely a host of others seem like idiotic nonsense to me). To end, an oh-so-true thought from Simone de Beauvoir's brilliant The Second Sex

"Thus, as against the dispersed, contingent, and multiple existences of actual women, mythical thought opposes the Eternal Feminine, unique and changeless. If the definition provided for this concept is contradicted by the behavior of flesh-and-blood women, it is the latter who are wrong: we are told not that Feminity is a false entity, but that the women concerned are not feminine."