tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30528896192118349252024-03-12T21:02:24.540-07:00Amy GrierWriter and EditorAmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-86522920024855724112020-05-13T15:35:00.000-07:002019-05-14T11:12:09.022-07:00Weird Food Adventures in Oxford (With Bonus Risotto Interlude)<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5jQ8wrqpSYI/V0tig1ZlJQI/AAAAAAAAAOw/TkvrUtFHUOM9LB8nn8wBmRZztN6vf7FFwCKgB/s1600/dirty-chai.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5jQ8wrqpSYI/V0tig1ZlJQI/AAAAAAAAAOw/TkvrUtFHUOM9LB8nn8wBmRZztN6vf7FFwCKgB/s1600/dirty-chai.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See? Lots of people drink them!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<h2>
<b>Item One: A Beverage Tragedy</b></h2>
<br />
I just spilled my nearly-full dirty chai all over platform three at the Swansea train station. I'm cranky, caffeine-deprived, and underfed. Now that I'm on the train, I just want to sleep. But I don't really want to sleep, I want to do stuff like read and blog and play Scrabble on my phone.<br />
<br />
So, navigating the aisles of the train, I walk/stumble/almost-fall to the cafe car and order an espresso. The coffee guy advises me that the espresso measures all of 1/8 an inch. So he makes me an Americano. I add a little sugar for fun and down it.<br />
<div>
<br />
<b>Update</b>:<br />
<br />
I slept.<br />
<br />
(Note: A <a href="http://degreesofprep.com/homemade-dirty-chai-latte/" target="_blank">dirty chai</a> is a chai latte with one or more shots of added espresso. This is apparently a shock for the baristas in Swansea, who looked at me as if I had ordered a double espresso with a dollop of chamomile tea sprinkled with paprika.)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think you get it</td></tr>
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<h2>
<b>Item Two: In Our Oxford AirB&B Apartment...</b></h2>
<br />
...there is no coffee, nor is there any device that makes coffee. (Also, there is no soap in the bathroom. I repeat: there is no soap. Or a trash can.)<br />
<br />
Update: That Evening<br />
<br />
There is no hair dryer. I cover my wet, flat hair with my Red Sox cap. All day.<br />
<br />
Update: The Next Day<br />
<br />
The <a href="http://www.reviewcentre.com/reviews98861.html" target="_blank">combination washer/dryer</a> (1 1/16th stars!) washes but does not dry. After 3 hours and forty-five minutes of drying, I give up and lay all of my clothes across the chairs, futon couch, and desk thing with the display cabinets that has no displays.<br />
<br />
<h2>
<b>Item Three: Duck and Wine and Duck and Happiness</b></h2>
<br />
Jill and I happen upon a wine bar near <a href="https://www.oxfordcastleunlocked.co.uk/" target="_blank">Oxford Castle </a>called <a href="http://www.1855oxford.com/" target="_blank">1855. </a><br />
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I have an wonderful French blanc-du-blanc champagne and Jill enjoys a Hungarian sauvignon blanc that is complex, dry, and delicious. Add some duck confit salad and duck roulette with caramelized onion and we're happy as clams not being fried and eaten.<br />
<br />
With cheerful tummies, we set out to walk the city. Jill shows me the grounds of Trinity College and the dorm where she lived four years ago, and we generally enjoy our trek until we grow tired and decide to get a real dinner.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Any excuse for a picture of The Shat</td></tr>
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<h2>
<b>Item Four: Crap-Ass Wine and a Mal-Meal at Malmaison</b></h2>
<br />
Like any true international travelers, we plan our daily sightseeing around food and wine. We head back to the castle and decide on a classy-looking bar-slash-restaurant in the Malmaison hotel. Skilled, polite bartenders! A server who takes our jackets! No disapproving looks at our jeans and walking shoes even though it's Saturday night!<br />
<br />
We order two glasses of a Spanish sauvignon blanc at the bar. The Hungarian one earlier was so good, why wouldn't a Spanish one also be delicious?<br />
<br />
Wrong. One-note, fruitless, and blech-bodied. We sip anyway, having already paid for it at the bar, and plan for another glass of something else with dinner. We comfort ourselves with the prospect of delectable food. So we order, but must keep re-deciding as we discover they've run out of everything we want: lobster for the lobster risotto. All the tuna for anything with tuna. A few starters. A fish entree.<br />
<br />
Well, hey, as I mentioned before, we're flexible. I ordered the alternative risotto: pea with goat cheese, a drizzle of basil pesto, and edible flowers. Sounds great! Right? Besides, Boston has the best lobster risotto you could possible desire.<br />
<br />
After inquiring about the catch of the day (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bream" target="_blank">bream)</a>, Jill decides on the Normandy chicken. No one runs out of chicken. Right?<br />
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<h2>
<b>Item Five: The Actual, Um, "Meal"</b></h2>
<b><br /></b>
After ordering, we sip our "wine." For forty-five minutes. Right about the time my psyche is about to implode from impatience and low blood sugar, the meals arrive. Oh, how triumphantly the server delivers out pretty plates!<br />
<br />
Placed in front of me is my pea risotto looking very... green. Green rice, green peas, green pesto, green plant-like things with tiny purple flowers. And two plops of goatish cheese-ish curd.<br />
<br />
And Jill got her... oh wait, it's the bream! A lovely plate of the grilled bream which she definitely did not order.<br />
<br />
Jill: "This is not what I ordered."<br />
<br />
Lady: "What's that, madame?"<br />
<br />
Jill: "I ordered the chicken. The Normandy half chicken."<br />
<br />
Lady: "Oh, so sorry madame!" (Removes plate. Looks abashed.) "I think it is my fault. I will come back right away."<br />
<br />
Jill: "Thanks."<br />
<br />
Lady: (Looks at me.) "Would you like me to take your plate in the back so we can serve the meals together?"<br />
<br />
Me: "No thank you." (<i>Lady, if you effin' touch my plate of green mush I will punch you square in the lady parts.)</i><br />
<br />
Lady departs for five minutes, returns.<br />
<br />
Lady: (To Jill): Madame, I am sorry, but..."<br />
<br />
Jill: "You're out of chicken."<br />
<br />
Lady: "...we are out of the chicken. This is why I put in the bream order for you."<br />
<br />
Jill: "But I don't want the bream."<br />
<br />
Lady: "Oh. I understand. Please, here is a menu, you can order something else and I will get it for you."<br />
<br />
Jill: (With surprising grace despite all the blood having drained from her face.) "Just bring me the steak frites. Medium rare."<br />
<br />
Lady: "Of course madame. The price is a little more than the chicken, but it is good."<br />
<br />
Me: (My pea-green eyes wide:) "ARE YOU GOING TO CHARGE HER FOR HER MEAL?!?"<br />
<br />
Lady: (Looks at me, embarassed, shakes her head no.) "But I must check with management, you know."<br />
<br />
Lady leaves.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>----Begin Risotto Interlude----</i><br />
<br />
I eat some risotto. It is unquestionably the worst risotto I've ever had. If I were to make this at home, here's how I'd do it.<br />
<br />
<b>A Recipe for Disaster</b><br />
<br />
1/2 cup old peas boiled for about an hour and drained<br />
Arborio rice boiled for about four hours<br />
Cheap olive oil mixed with old dried basil (call it "pesto")<br />
Two dollops of, oh, say, plain greek yogurt that's been in the fridge for two weeks (call it "goat curd")<br />
Two tiny flowers I picked in the back yard<br />
Six drops of green food coloring<br />
<br />
Mix. Scoop into bowl. Voila! Serve to anyone with whom you'd like to sever your relationship. Forever.<br />
<br />
<i>----End Risotto Interlude----</i><br />
<br />
<br />
The steak frites arrives, served by a young man who must be the manager. He places the plate in front of where Jill would be if she hadn't trudged to the bar searching for a better glass of wine. A large glass.<br />
<br />
I join her with a glass of the same--a mediocre cab that is nonetheless a relief after the shitty whitish liquid. I eat a little of her steak, overcooked well past medium rare. I munch a few of the greasy fries. Jill eats enough to sate her hunger, then plops her utensils on the plate in disgust. We both push our plates as far to the edge of the table as possible.<br />
<br />
Lady has the audacity to ask if we want dessert or coffee. No? We don't? Surely just some coffee? No? Would you... oh just the check? Of course."<br />
<br />
We are charged only for the risotto. I briefly consider demanding it be comped for sheer terribleness. We pay anyway, defeated. The entire walk home we talk about the "food" and "wine" experience of the last TWO AND A HALF HOURS that it took to complete our mal-meal.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beautiful Ashmolean</td></tr>
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<h2>
<b>Item Six: A Shocking Sunday Beverage at the Ashmolean Museum</b></h2>
<b><br /></b>
At the museum cafe, Jill orders a cappuccino. The barista asks if she'd like chocolate powder on top. Jill says yes. He makes the coffee and hands it to her.<br />
<br />
I order a double macchiato. I ask for chocolate powder on top. The barista does a double take.<br />
<br />
"You want chocolate... like a piece of chocolate?"<br />
<br />
"No, just some chocolate powder sprinkled on top please."<br />
<br />
"Oh. Yes madam."<br />
<br />
As I'm paying, a woman is making my coffee. She turns to me.<br />
<br />
"You want the chocolate powder... on your <i>macchiato?"<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, it's just so disgusting!</td></tr>
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</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"Yes please."<br />
<br />
The cashier literally opens her eyes in shock, turns to the other lady to give her an are-you-kdding-me-with-this-weird-chick look, then shakes her head as she takes my money.<br />
<br />
Really people? Really? Could you at least be polite enough to do that behind my back?<br />
<br />
<h2>
<b>Item Seven</b>: <b><a href="http://www.domaine-mosse.com/en/" target="_blank">An Anjou Wine</a>, Lots of Cheese, Jamon Iberico, and a Beverage Near-Tragedy</b></h2>
<br />
It's post-museum time, that time of the sightseeing day when you feel like you did a thing and now it certainly must be cocktail hour. We are back at the wine bar, sitting in the rare Oxford sunshine, sharing a bottle of French sauvignon blanc and a <a href="http://oxfordcheese.co.uk/ewe's%20milk-cheese-%20ewe%20cheese-goat's%20milk-goat%20cheese-dorstone-berkswell-ticklemore-ossau%20iraty-pouligny" target="_blank">gorgeous plate of cheeses </a>and meat. We are in fucking heaven.<br />
<br />
I'm so happy, I gesture wildly as I make some <a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/serendipity" target="_blank">brilliant philosophical point</a> about the transience of experience vis a vis the uncontrollable synchronicity of life events. I knock my wine glass over and spill French sauvignon blanc all over Jill's jeans and sneakers. I help her mop herself up with several red napkins. I apologize. She is super-cool about it.<br />
<br />
I am just not good at beverages.<br />
<br />
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Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-25073183467523763112018-06-10T13:36:00.001-07:002018-06-11T06:44:28.545-07:00Goat cheese and stuff, and oh, I’m in Prague!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption">View from our apartment balcony which is fairly awesome</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Should I clean it?</td></tr>
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Day One in Prague! I slept until 1 pm!<br />
<br />
You guys, instead of being awake and doing things and practicing Czech, I was in a very realistic dream in China where an older married couple were offended by the art I gave them—a very nice painting—and they kept trying to clean it. And they were sort of trying to be polite about it but had disgusted looks on their faces. And then there was an American guy there who married some lady, then they started fighting, then they were hanging out with the other couple, and someone was going to die. And I kept thinking that I needed to get out of there, but instead I was trying help everybody. So, so stupid Amy, stop trying to fix All The Problems.<br />
<br />
My subconscious is the weirdest. I would hate to be a tourist in all that shit right there.<br />
<br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">
Then I woke up, and it was the effin’ afternoon, and my indefatigable friend Jill had already bought <span style="text-align: center;">me a double macchiato (the real kind not the Starbucks kind) and it was cooled down and I cared not at all. It was the best.</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
So we went out to walk to Peace Square (exactly none of the locals call it Peace Square) and we ended up sitting at a very pleasant pub eating excellent salad. Jill had beer, I had cider. We were here because we had walked in exactly the wrong direction. Instead of Peace Square, we had almost reached The River. Not even the part with the big cool bridge.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><b>—Bonus Cheese Interlude—</b></i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
You. Guys. Can we talk about baked cheese?</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I read in Rick Steve’s Czech travel guide (an excellent travel guide btw) that fried cheese is common here. I imagine breaded-ass fried mozzarella-type stick thingies that crunch and make those allergic to gluten quite ill. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Anyway, I ordered a salad with goat cheese. <i>Baked</i> goat cheese. It was the most tastiest, mildest, yummy cheese ever. </div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
(Jen, I know you’re reading this. Yes, I did need that much goat cheese.)</div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><i>—End Bonus Cheese Interlude—</i></b></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
And it poured rain while we ate. Jill practiced some Czech (mostly <i>děcuji</i>, meaning thank you, but also <i>na zdravi</i>, meaning cheers, which is one of the first things I learned, because booze). And I helped her learn because I have to fix All The Problems.</div>
</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-71080930716353183162016-05-24T13:39:00.000-07:002016-05-24T13:44:15.091-07:00Poems and Pints and a Play at the Queens Pub, Carmarthen<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dominic Williams and Annie Butler read<br />
<i>The Nice View</i> by Cynthia Veal Holm</td></tr>
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Last night at the Queen's Pub in Carmarthen, two Welsh writers/actors, <a href="http://www.dominic.wales/" target="_blank">Dominic Williams</a> and <a href="http://preselimountains.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Annie Butler</a>, performed an award-winning play by <a href="http://www.lesley.edu/" target="_blank">Lesley University's </a>own <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/cvhplaywright" target="_blank">Cynthia Veal Holm</a>. In April, Cynthia won the <a href="http://web.kennedy-center.org/Education/KCACTF/awards/Playwriting/TenMinutePlay" target="_blank">Gary Garrison award for her ten minute play, </a><i><a href="http://web.kennedy-center.org/Education/KCACTF/awards/Playwriting/TenMinutePlay" target="_blank">The Nice View</a>,</i> which was one of four featured works performed at the Kennedy Center. Yeah, that's what I said: MY FRIEND Cynthia's play was performed at the frickin' Kennedy Center. Last night was hailed by Dominic as its "UK premiere."<br />
<br />
As usual, the Welsh know how to do literature right: mixing an ancient literary tradition with a passion for the spoken word and lots of <a href="http://www.visitwales.com/explore/south-wales/food-festivals" target="_blank">cider and ale</a>. <a href="http://spokenwordwales.weebly.com/" target="_blank">Poems and Pints</a> is a group of writers who meet every month in Carmarthen to share their work while enjoying delicious beverages. I don't even know what kind of cider I was drinking--just whatever was on tap, which in Wales is always good.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tYpz5I3CWCg/V0R46AY_mpI/AAAAAAAAAN8/iT1wIqZsXB80-htRbq2awjIgYn1NJldbQCLcB/s1600/cynthia%2Baward.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tYpz5I3CWCg/V0R46AY_mpI/AAAAAAAAAN8/iT1wIqZsXB80-htRbq2awjIgYn1NJldbQCLcB/s200/cynthia%2Baward.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cynthia's award</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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We three Americans were the "guests of honor" at this event--sponsored by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Write4Word-255816194466315/" target="_blank">Write4Word</a>--which means we got to read a little of our work along with the rest of these passionate, talented writers. What a pleasure to be in a land where literature is so treasured. The writing was first-rate, and the group was full of people who know how to listen.<br />
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Cynthia, a bit nervous but charming and collected, introduced her play, which is set on the Missouri River in the state of Missouri.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P3rGrQYJcV0/V0R7Rbh1QlI/AAAAAAAAAOM/-KGQapdANUUAxTT95oMCN_5Bu2w78e7jwCLcB/s1600/cynthia%2Band%2Bdom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P3rGrQYJcV0/V0R7Rbh1QlI/AAAAAAAAAOM/-KGQapdANUUAxTT95oMCN_5Bu2w78e7jwCLcB/s200/cynthia%2Band%2Bdom.jpg" width="183" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cynthia pulls herself together<br />
to introduce her award-winning play</td></tr>
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<br />
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My other friend at the event, <a href="https://www.linkedin.com/in/jill-johnson-a4589661?trk=seokp-title_posts_secondary_cluster_res_author_name" target="_blank">Jill Johnson</a>, did a stunning job reading from her memoir <i>Waterskiing in Cashmir, </i>which is about her childhood growing up in developing countries. I also read a bit from my memoir <i>Quiet One,</i> about growing up with a <a href="https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/resolution-not-conflict/201210/when-your-mother-has-borderline-personality" target="_blank">mother who has BPD.</a> People who know me will be glad to hear that I read something sort of sweet and light about a high school dance (with some allusion to the tragic, I can't help myself).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-auLGxIKPfpQ/V0R7hWyvaiI/AAAAAAAAAOU/SHx7A2XGXcQhR9f3PV2J6tkWSdSYpqm1wCKgB/s1600/jill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-auLGxIKPfpQ/V0R7hWyvaiI/AAAAAAAAAOU/SHx7A2XGXcQhR9f3PV2J6tkWSdSYpqm1wCKgB/s200/jill.jpg" width="153" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jill takes a picture as<br />
the reading begins</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The three of us feel privileged to have been invited into this group for the evening. We know how sacred a writers' group space can be, and to allow us to share in it was a true pleasure.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2hbgMv3JNyQ/V0R_zBP1E8I/AAAAAAAAAOc/AJkqzzWMeJQSPxAnuxCVjDkx3OcYrkHrQCLcB/s1600/amyreading.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="154" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2hbgMv3JNyQ/V0R_zBP1E8I/AAAAAAAAAOc/AJkqzzWMeJQSPxAnuxCVjDkx3OcYrkHrQCLcB/s200/amyreading.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-87199706538803942962016-05-23T09:10:00.001-07:002016-05-23T09:10:55.073-07:00Cider, a Potato, and... oh yeah, a Castle!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I2k9alNEvAE/V0MgHMp8anI/AAAAAAAAANQ/ZHZvrxKdamc53PAo7RFtgY7OOmbimZ8wQCLcB/s1600/Laugharne_Town.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-I2k9alNEvAE/V0MgHMp8anI/AAAAAAAAANQ/ZHZvrxKdamc53PAo7RFtgY7OOmbimZ8wQCLcB/s320/Laugharne_Town.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view of Laugharne from the castle grounds</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Sometimes you just want a lamb shank. It's the ideal Welsh lunch--<a href="https://realfood.tesco.com/recipes/spicy-welsh-lamb.html" target="_blank">some shank of lamb</a>, cider, and a gorgeous sunny day in <a href="http://www.visitwales.com/explore/literature/laugharne-famous-attractions" target="_blank">Laugharne, Carmarthenshire, Wales. </a><br />
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And then you order, and the charming lady serving you at your perfect patio table regretfully tells you that they're out of lamb. We're in Wales, and there's no lamb to be had.<br />
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But hey! I'm flexible! I loves me some lamb, but I loves me a lot of things. Cider, check: made by <a href="http://www.tomoswatkin.com/" target="_blank">Tomos Watkin, who makes the "Great Ales of Wales."</a> Espresso: they got it, just gonna wait 'til after I eat. Lamb: nope, but potatoes! Baked potatoes served with any variety of ingredients I could possibly desire. Even a salad on the side.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-t2qhTOwOrOo/V0MgBBEZi-I/AAAAAAAAANg/u0SOR3GqDa0pFYkGPPibJmHnbz7Y-_38gCKgB/s1600/Arthurs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-t2qhTOwOrOo/V0MgBBEZi-I/AAAAAAAAANg/u0SOR3GqDa0pFYkGPPibJmHnbz7Y-_38gCKgB/s320/Arthurs.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arthur's, home of friendly service, delicious potatoes,<br />and easy-drinkin' cider</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So, toppings: cheese, natch. Then the server asks if I'd like brie or cheddar. Brie, please! And bacon! And I'm happy.<br />
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Not that's it's difficult on a day like today. I'm hanging out with two fantastic women, enjoying wonderful weather, thinking about the castle just down the road.<br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: center;">Oh, yeah--there's a castle! </span><a href="http://cadw.gov.wales/daysout/laugharnecastle/?lang=en" style="text-align: center;" target="_blank">Laugharne Castle</a><span style="text-align: center;"> it's called, which is good, because I can actually remember the name. I haven't really seen it yet, because I've been, um, eating and... drinking wine, and, that other thing I like to do... sleeping. And some writing, believe it or not.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pIopA4mjde0/V0MgMnkWloI/AAAAAAAAANk/KPr_r9dUgaYisWiq0B78vH9_-m0jsNe6QCKgB/s1600/Laugharne.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pIopA4mjde0/V0MgMnkWloI/AAAAAAAAANk/KPr_r9dUgaYisWiq0B78vH9_-m0jsNe6QCKgB/s320/Laugharne.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The grounds of Laugharne Castle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My potato arrives with a load of proper Welsh bacon and two big SLABS OF BRIE. Oh, people, the things that make me happy.<br />
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I eat it all. I drink a rather large bottle of cider. I drink my espresso, then the three of us stroll to the little craft store. Which is really fun for me, because the lady who runs the shop speaks <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/wales/learning/learnwelsh/" target="_blank">full-on Welsh</a> with a few of the customers. I understand almost nothing, but I just love listening to the fluid vowels, the distinct but soft consonants: lots of mild "th" and "ch" sounds, not choppy like English.<br />
<br />
Then, we actually do walk to the castle. We hope to take a tour tomorrow, but for today, we're content to look at scenes like this:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SHrVRz96fhs/V0MgPlnEuDI/AAAAAAAAANk/LAaa-gLu_HcHv3E1mORekDOC4gO0kGQSwCKgB/s1600/Laugharne_Castle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SHrVRz96fhs/V0MgPlnEuDI/AAAAAAAAANk/LAaa-gLu_HcHv3E1mORekDOC4gO0kGQSwCKgB/s320/Laugharne_Castle.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jill admires Laugharne Castle while enjoying homemade<br />chocolate Welsh ice cream</td></tr>
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And this:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nrd5LveG6vE/V0MgJiTMhqI/AAAAAAAAANk/ARKZV3YJf9cBAT-vvNCkNAvyAAE-udXwQCKgB/s1600/Estuary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nrd5LveG6vE/V0MgJiTMhqI/AAAAAAAAANk/ARKZV3YJf9cBAT-vvNCkNAvyAAE-udXwQCKgB/s320/Estuary.jpg" width="283" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of the estuary that runs by the castle</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: center;">And I simply take a moment to feel gratitude for being in this place at this time. </span>On the walk home, I pass a pub with a rather large blue banner printed with white letters:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K9PewuupEM4/V0MgCuoiuSI/AAAAAAAAANk/5gF36LucwCkj_6fsg5UqlHzt2-cNYXfHQCKgB/s1600/No_food.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K9PewuupEM4/V0MgCuoiuSI/AAAAAAAAANk/5gF36LucwCkj_6fsg5UqlHzt2-cNYXfHQCKgB/s320/No_food.jpg" width="243" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's no food here</td></tr>
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<br />
Behind the low fence, on a small chalkboard, someone has written "NOT SERVING FOOD." We asked, and they in fact do not serve food. I guess the banner is just <a href="http://hoseyb.blogspot.co.uk/2014/02/a-classic-welsh-tease-clogwyn-y-garreg.html" target="_blank">a Welsh tease</a>.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-25412749852429895742016-05-22T08:56:00.000-07:002016-05-22T08:56:20.467-07:00When Things Go Wrong, Awesome Stuff Happens<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZNYW3aUKBy4/V0HNRR8x_0I/AAAAAAAAAMY/GV3Hjp3sbJgtPSG02LWMtkK9x56W0LUFwCLcB/s1600/dylan%2Bthomas%2Bsign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZNYW3aUKBy4/V0HNRR8x_0I/AAAAAAAAAMY/GV3Hjp3sbJgtPSG02LWMtkK9x56W0LUFwCLcB/s320/dylan%2Bthomas%2Bsign.jpg" width="252" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dylan Thomas' Birthplace in Swansea, Wales</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Say the word "yarn." Now say it with an "l" instead of a "y" - "larn." Now extend the "ah" sound just a little: "lahrn." Well done! You are now able to pronounce the name of the town in which I reside at the moment: Laugharne, which is in Carmarthenshire, Wales.<br />
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I know how to pronounce this word because of a very kind lady my friends and I met at a tiny pub yesterday in Swansea, also in Wales. We had arrived on a train direct from Paddington Station in London. We made our way to the Europcar place where I had reserved a vehicle, which I planned to drive around this beautiful country, because I love to drive, even when I have to be on the left and read road signs at the same time. This is the kind of challenge that makes me happy.<br />
<br />
But. We were an hour early, because we traded in our train tickets for earlier train tickets, thinking we were just oh-so-smart. I called the car dude and said, hey, it's six, we're here an hour early! and he said, lady, I'm not coming until seven, and I said okay then! because when you have no choice, it's best to retain, or at least fake, a good attitude.<br />
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As the three of us stood in the small, car-crowded Europcar lot, we noticed a little pub across the street with one identifying characteristic: a gigantic sign that said "GUINNESS." Also, a few dudes poking their heads out of the door and yelling things like "Oy!" and "ARrrAAH!"and BeehhhEY!!!" Fun maybe? Hey, we're not picky. So off we went.<br />
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Imagine three jet-lagged grown women rolling rather heavy suitcases across a slender, bumpy road, <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gwtpIarVtw4/V0HRAYuMAqI/AAAAAAAAAM4/zpU23fOThOU90z1PIEf7MGMWY85pM1MFgCKgB/s1600/Dylan%2BThomas%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gwtpIarVtw4/V0HRAYuMAqI/AAAAAAAAAM4/zpU23fOThOU90z1PIEf7MGMWY85pM1MFgCKgB/s320/Dylan%2BThomas%2B2.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dylan Thomas' birthplace<br />in Swansea, Wales</td></tr>
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dragging said suitcases up three steps into a one-room pub filled with smashed middle-aged men sort of watching soccer but really just using it as an excuse to chug down as much GUINNESS as humanly possible, then, with many "pardon me's" and "sorry's," mowing a path through these pink-faced gentlemen feeling like we had walked into someone's rowdy birthday party. But no, it was just Saturday night.<br />
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We stood against the wall with all our crap, trying to make ourselves small and not-quite-so-American, which was really impossible. Everyone here knew each other by first names. Then we showed up.<br />
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We ordered drinks at the three-foot-long bar--ginger ale for me, since I'd be driving while trying to do everything in the opposite way I usually do. We sip said drinks. (Except for "J," who chugged a very nice-looking ale.) Then--miracle of miracles--a kind, curious, and completely sober woman walked up and asked where we were from.<br />
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"C" mentioned the Dylan Thomas Summer School in Lampeter, Wales, which we had all attended the previous year. Then, this woman, whom I shall call Angel, said, "Oh yes, the house in which Dylan Thomas was born is right up the road." At which point we almost pass out and drop our drinks from excitement, because we are nerds.<br />
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Then--seriously, how often does this happen?--Angel says, "I can drive you there and back in ten minutes. Would you like to see it?" At which point we almost frickin' die, because we really are nerds.<br />
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OF COURSE, we said, gathering the remains of our brains off the floor where they had exploded, because we didn't want to leave a mess in this nice, friendly pub.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SX0mGWHzPAQ/V0HRL3jYLZI/AAAAAAAAAM4/oBKtTCMYwJof9NS70BvxaQomz3VZNuvogCKgB/s1600/Dylan%2BThomas%2BHouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SX0mGWHzPAQ/V0HRL3jYLZI/AAAAAAAAAM4/oBKtTCMYwJof9NS70BvxaQomz3VZNuvogCKgB/s320/Dylan%2BThomas%2BHouse.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The signs that point to the places</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The pub owner agrees to watch our things while we're gone, even stowing them in a back room. We join her in the car and she drives us to the Dylan Thomas House:<br />
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We can barely stand ourselves. The signs in front of the house point to the various towns where Thomas spent parts of his life. He was born in Swansea but moved to Laugharne, and also had a place in New Quay where he drank A LOT and smoked and started fights and wrote brilliantly.<br />
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We took pictures of the house and also of the view, where Angel pointed out the Mumbles, a few small islands off the coast:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fwwpncMW3ME/V0HRFRUaa2I/AAAAAAAAAMs/MF8CbZIym1cMSZchRjm9iLiS3eC2UDXTQCKgB/s1600/the%2Bmumbles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="167" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fwwpncMW3ME/V0HRFRUaa2I/AAAAAAAAAMs/MF8CbZIym1cMSZchRjm9iLiS3eC2UDXTQCKgB/s320/the%2Bmumbles.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Angel said the word "Mumbles" is derived from<br />the Celtic word for, well, "boobs," which is<br />what happens when you let straight men name stuff</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then Angel says, "Would you like to see the pub where he liked to go?"<br />
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You know, brains are even messier the second time they explode. We packed them back inside our heads, got in the car, and Angel drove us by the pub. It's called the Mozart now (no idea) but it's still the same building. We got just a bit giddy.<br />
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Then we returned to GUINNESS. It was even more packed then before, the men (to be fair, only most of them) were even more smashed, and a few came up to us and said things like, "ohbe tharin den oof," which was them speaking English, and Angel translated that they were joking that all of our stuff had been nicked, and--let me repeat--Angel was TRANSLATING ENGLISH.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qrmDExHA584/V0HRDXa4MwI/AAAAAAAAAM4/k2aCT7Ca3ZA7R8ScJVqgsjRwnp1MSHY5ACKgB/s1600/dylan%2Bthomas%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qrmDExHA584/V0HRDXa4MwI/AAAAAAAAAM4/k2aCT7Ca3ZA7R8ScJVqgsjRwnp1MSHY5ACKgB/s320/dylan%2Bthomas%2B3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I cropped out Angel's car</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We actually did need to pick up a car. Which we did. I drove it back to the pub, where the owner helped us load our bags into the trunk, and we gave him and Angel our heartfelt thanks and goodbyes, and somewhere in all this some guy hugged C, and she's like, time to go.<br />
<br />
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And off we went.<br />
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Now. None of this amazing, spontaneous experience of meeting all of these kind people and getting a personal ride to see two famous Dylan Thomas sights would have happened if we had not changed our train tickets or if the Europcar dude met us when we arrived. On other words, if our schedule had worked the way we'd hoped, I wouldn't be writing this post.<br />
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Serendipity manifests when you stop trying to control time.<br />
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<br />
<i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Photos by ME, so leave them alone unless you ask nicely.</span></i>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-14340108842271456952015-09-14T14:44:00.000-07:002015-09-14T14:44:33.591-07:003 Reasons Why It's Okay To Sleep at a Writing Retreat (When You Should Be Writing)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_cwQ-G3UkQo/Vfc-B-dJ3FI/AAAAAAAAALQ/3MADHd6_k18/s1600/11285590136_5eff8525b4_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="203" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_cwQ-G3UkQo/Vfc-B-dJ3FI/AAAAAAAAALQ/3MADHd6_k18/s320/11285590136_5eff8525b4_c.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I just spent a week at a writing retreat called <a href="http://www.porcheswritingretreat.com/" target="_blank">The Porches</a>, a lovely spot in rural Virginia on the James River. Many times I've taken myself there to work without distractions, in a private room with a solid desk, and lots of peace and quiet. I got some good writing done that I look forward to continuing. I also edited a piece and submitted it. And I drank some good wine.<br />
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Also, I slept.<br />
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<a href="http://porcheswritingretreat.com/about-us.html" target="_blank">Trudy Hale</a>, the owner and operator of The Porches, once told me that many writers arrive, set themselves up for good, focused work, then spend two days mostly sleeping. They are always surprised by this, and wonder why they're sleeping in or napping every day when they were so geared up to work. It's simple, Trudy says. They're tired.<br />
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Sometimes we need to be in a peaceful environment away from our usual distractions to realize how tired we really are. Our bodies go into a different mode and take advantage of the time and place to get some much-needed rest.<br />
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My reaction to this, and the reaction of other writers I've spoken with, is usually frustration, even guilt. On this trip, I intended to get up at seven, write, eat breakfast, writer, lunch, write, etc. But on two days, I woke up late, did some writing, had lunch, then napped, almost until dinner. I was annoyed with myself, and felt almost as if I should have forced myself to work.<br />
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Here's the thing, though. When my body was telling me it was fatigued, and I insisted on trying to write anyway, the writing was crappy and felt like drudge. My brain wasn't focused. It didn't want to work. It wanted to rest. So napping was the best thing I could have done. This is something I already know about myself, but I have to keep re-learning.<br />
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I believe in food sleep for many reasons, and one of them is simply that it enables me to write better. If you're like me, and find yourself dozing at a writing retreat when you think you should be writing, I'll share with you three reasons why getting some sleep at a writing retreat is not only a good thing, but it's also beneficial to your writing:<br />
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<b>1. Sleep helps keep you healthy.</b> When you get worn out, your immune systems gets run down. Resting enables your body stay balanced and helps prevent a cold or flu taking you down just when you're trying to work.<br />
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<b>2. Sleep allows your subconscious mind to process information and ideas, which enables you to write with more energy and focus.</b> <a href="http://www.amygrier.com/2015/09/writing-habits-3-ways-to-engage-your.html" target="_blank">Writing is a highly subconscious endeavor,</a> as is all art. Your brain needs time to do some work in the background to replenish your conscious resources. Sleep is the best way to free your mind up to do this.<br />
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<b>3. Sleep enables you to return home more refreshed and relaxed than when you left.</b> Ideally, when you re-enter your regular life, you'll feel like you accomplished some good writing and feel less stressed. Retreats like this are a break for the mind and body as well as a time to be productive in your work.<br />
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A writing retreat is not necessarily about producing as much writing as you can in every working hour. It's about having the time and energy to prioritize your writing in a way you can't in your everyday life. You should feel good about being there and enjoy the experience; that way, your writing will be fresher and more focused. You'll also feel good about continuing your work with a rested mind and body.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-81892230775412142812015-09-01T07:50:00.000-07:002015-09-01T13:17:55.190-07:00Writing Habits: 3 Ways to Engage Your Subconscious Mind<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GGeuOV7LQlU/VeW2XpjtYhI/AAAAAAAAAK4/nYTEMv86RbM/s1600/shiny_brain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GGeuOV7LQlU/VeW2XpjtYhI/AAAAAAAAAK4/nYTEMv86RbM/s320/shiny_brain.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Yesterday I read <a href="http://observer.com/2015/08/how-to-become-the-best-in-the-world-at-what-you-do/" target="_blank">this article</a> in <a href="http://observer.com/" target="_blank"><i>O</i></a><a href="http://observer.com/" style="font-style: italic;" target="_blank">bserver</a> by <a href="http://www.benjaminhardy.com/" target="_blank">Benjamin Hardy</a><i>. </i>This paragraph got me thinking about the power of the subconscious mind:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i style="color: #333333; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">The first thing to do when you wake up is output. This may be in the form of writing in a journal to capture all the work your subconscious has been doing while you were sleeping. Or immediately getting to the project you’re working on. When you get out of a meeting or finish any form of activity, rather than going directly to your email or other input, maximize your subconscious by going directly to output—your work. </i></blockquote>
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I've never thought in terms of "input" and "output" before, but now I'll probably use the words all the time because they fit so well into my beliefs about how the subconscious powers our writing.<br />
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I talk about this a lot with fellow writers, like when I'm in a workshop and note how well a particular metaphor works in someone's manuscript, and the writer says "I never noticed that," then looks abashed by admitting he didn't do that purposefully.<br />
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This always surprises me, that writers don't want to take credit for the hard work their subconscious mind does. Writing requires the focus and engagement of the entire mind. It's your subconscious. It's a part of you and unique to you. You get to take credit for it.<br />
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The writing process--I think any creative process--is powered by the subconscious. This is why it's so important to have habits in place to strengthen that part of us, to best take advantage of all the work our brains are doing when we're <i>not</i> writing.<br />
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I'm going to share three habits I've learned that open up my subconscious. These are tried and true methods that I've used for years that greatly improve not only my writing efficiency and quality, but also enhance my enjoyment of the writing process itself, which, let's face it, can be pretty tough.<br />
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<b>1. WRITE IMMEDIATELY AFTER YOU WAKE UP</b><br />
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Ideally: wake up, sit up, write in that notebook sitting on your nightstand. You have a notebook there, right? Even if you spend one single minute doing this, you will find so much rich material in your brain just waiting for your attention.<br />
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I know you might need to start that first cup of coffee or tea. I'm with you there. Take your notebook with you while your beverage of choice is brewing or steeping and write. Write anything that comes to mind in any way you want. Free writing works really well here if that's your thing. I do this with an espresso, and often with a bowl of oatmeal, too, because breakfast.<br />
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You can frame this first-thing-in-the-morning activity in whatever way works best for you. The most important thing is this: don't do input. No email, reading, phone calls, texting, etc. Write first. Believe me, all of that input stuff will still be there after you've written.<br />
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It's a lot like meditating. I find the whole focus of my day is changed if I do this, no matter what I'm doing. Ignoring my subconscious makes me antsy and distracted. Engaging it calms and focuses me.<br />
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<b>2. KEEP A DREAM JOURNAL</b><br />
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You guys, if you've never done this, try it. Do it every day for a week and see what happens. When I write my dreams down--and I've written a lot of dreams--they become clearer over time, sharper, more vivid. And I'm a person who doesn't generally like journaling.<br />
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And rereading dreams is so much fun. Something scary in a dream can be so hilarious when you read it a week later, like the time I dreamed a giant rabbit was blocking me from getting into my house, and my dog said, "Look under his eyes." I'm never going to forget that one.<br />
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<b>3. WORK WHEN YOU WORK. PLAY WHEN YOU PLAY.</b><br />
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<a href="http://www.benjaminhardy.com/" target="_blank">Hardy</a> touches on this point, too. As a writer, one of the worst feelings I have is when I'm not writing but feeling I should be. This happens when my subconscious is crying out for my attention and needs me to output that stuff. If I fully engage with that, fully focus on writing, then it frees me to focus on whatever else I need to do that day: clean out the closet, or find materials for a workshop I'm teaching, or reading email, or walking my dogs.<br />
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By doing creative output--writing-- you've allowed your subconscious to play out all of the good stuff it has been gestating. Then it can start fresh again while you do some input, i.e. most everything that's not writing.<br />
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If you have another method that you use, I'd love to know about it. Trying new strategies for writing is a great way to freshen your process and give your brain a little reboot.<br />
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<b>P.S</b>. Every single damn time I wrote the word "subconscious," I had to go back and put the "c" in. Including that last time just there.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-30473792859522867762015-08-31T06:16:00.000-07:002015-08-31T06:16:49.169-07:00Now This is Cool: Non-Profit Dedicated to Studying the Brain Through Writing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SMB4mmvVXCs/Va_uV0ZoBxI/AAAAAAAAAD4/C0UbgMUuTEk/s1600/onthemove.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SMB4mmvVXCs/Va_uV0ZoBxI/AAAAAAAAAD4/C0UbgMUuTEk/s320/onthemove.jpg" width="222" /></a></div>
<a href="http://www.oliversacks.com/about-oliver-sacks/" target="_blank">Oliver Sacks</a> died just a couple of days ago: <a href="http://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2015/08/30/436013382/oliver-sacks-renowned-neurologist-and-author-dies-at-82" target="_blank">August 30, 2015.</a> I miss him already. His writing--elegant, precise, and compassionate--inspires me not just to be a better writer, but to be a better human. He believed in the power of story to heal and to better understand the human mind.<br />
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While doing some research on his life, I found this: <a href="https://www.oliversacks.com/oliver-sacks-foundation/" target="_blank">The Oliver Sacks Foundation</a>. Then I got all excited when I read this:<br />
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<i>The <a href="https://www.oliversacks.com/oliver-sacks-foundation/" target="_blank">Oliver Sacks Foundation</a> is a nonprofit organization devoted to increasing understanding of the human brain and mind<b> through the power of narrative nonfiction</b> and case histories.</i><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>The foundation’s goals include making Dr. Sacks’s published and yet-unpublished writings <b>available to the broadest possible audience</b>, preserving and digitizing materials related to his life and work and making them available for scholarly use, <b>working to reduce the stigma of mental and neurological illness</b>, and supporting a humane approach to neurology and psychiatry. (emphasis mine)</i></blockquote>
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Those of us who love to read already know <a href="https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/positively-media/201101/the-psychological-power-storytelling" target="_blank">the power of storytelling</a> to make meaning from our lives and better understand our internal worlds. I've never bought into the dividing line between art and science, between what we think is quantifiable and what we think is not. Sacks clearly felt the same, using his tremendous writing talent to share the experiences of and humanize his patients and himself.<br />
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<a href="http://www.writersandeditors.com/narrative_nonfiction_57378.htm" target="_blank">Narrative nonfiction</a>, you guys! Let's get into it!<br />
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I remember you, Oliver Sacks, M.D. RIP.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-4087676250588043352015-08-25T03:00:00.000-07:002015-08-25T03:00:07.822-07:00How to Write a Synopsis of Your Book<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9w91fSGlmtE/ValT3Fyh2cI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/CsAN5ovnX-4/s1600/computer%2Bwriting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9w91fSGlmtE/ValT3Fyh2cI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/CsAN5ovnX-4/s320/computer%2Bwriting.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I came across these resources almost by accident today. I'm always surprised by how difficult it feels to write a synopsis; so much happens in a book that it isn't easy to sum it up in a few short pages. But, like the rest of my writing, if I feel I have a strategy in place, it becomes much simpler and less daunting.<br />
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Literary Agent <a href="http://mariavicente.com/about" target="_blank">Maria Vicente</a> recently posted a few guidelines about writing a synopsis:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Plot Overview</li>
<li>Character Introductions</li>
<li>Setting</li>
<li>Simplicity</li>
<li>Brevity</li>
<li>Proper Formatting</li>
</ul>
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<a href="http://mariavicente.com/post/126500337142/what-you-need-to-include-in-your-synopsis" target="_blank">Click here to read the entire post</a>. It's worth it. She refers to author <a href="http://www.marissameyer.com/id/" target="_blank">Marissa Meyer's</a> post on the same subject, which is particularly focused on the strategy of writing a synopsis:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Skim the manuscript</li>
<li>Play up the beginning</li>
<li>Connect chapter summaries with focus on formatting</li>
<li>Read with focus on plot; read again with focus on characters</li>
<li>Edit</li>
</ul>
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<a href="http://www.marissameyer.com/blogtype/6-steps-for-writing-a-book-synopsis/" target="_blank">Read the entire post here.</a> It provides examples for each step and describes what a synopsis format should look like. Well worth your time.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-10668504289466687302015-08-21T03:00:00.000-07:002015-08-21T03:00:10.167-07:009 Current Calls for Nonfiction Submissions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qp4lPA15mu0/VdY0tLsBnYI/AAAAAAAAAKk/VbW7zJsFngk/s1600/hands_computer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qp4lPA15mu0/VdY0tLsBnYI/AAAAAAAAAKk/VbW7zJsFngk/s320/hands_computer.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b>Let's check out some opportunities for nonfiction writers!</b><br />
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I keep a running list of potential markets for my work by scouring a variety of sources, including <a href="http://www.newpages.com/itemlist/filter?array334%5B%5D=Nonfiction&moduleId=736&Itemid=270" target="_blank">Literary Hub</a>, <a href="http://www.thereviewreview.net/classifieds/calls-for-submission" target="_blank">The Review Review</a>, <a href="http://www.newpages.com/classifieds/calls-for-submissions" target="_blank">NewPages</a>, <a href="http://www.placesforwriters.com/" target="_blank">Places for Writers</a>, and a bunch of other sites. You can check them out to find more options, including poetry, fiction, and cross-genre.<br />
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I'm happy to share this with you, in the spirit of writers helping writers. As usual, submit your best work and <b>read the guidelines carefully.</b><br />
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<a href="http://www.emrysjournal.org/" target="_blank">EMRYS JOURNAL</a></h3>
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Deadline: November 1, 2015</div>
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"Prizes of $250 will be awarded to one selection in each genre for outstanding poetry, short fiction, and creative nonfiction."</div>
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<a href="http://www.emrysjournal.org/" target="_blank">ROAR MAGAZINE</a></h3>
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Deadline: Rolling</div>
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"A print literary journal dedicated to providing a space to showcase women’s fiction, creative nonfiction and poetry. If you’re a gal, we just want your point of view."</div>
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<a href="http://www.sonderreview.com/" target="_blank">THE SONDER REVIEW</a></h3>
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Deadline: Rolling</div>
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"A publication of art, short fiction, and creative nonfiction that strives to question, redefine, and challenge conventional viewpoints. We want distinctive writing and unique voices. Astonish us. Provoke us."</div>
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<h3>
<a href="http://www.firstclasslit.com/" target="_blank">FIRST CLASS</a></h3>
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Deadline: Rolling</div>
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"We publish handwritten fiction, nonfiction, reviews, poetry, critical essays, and other experimental forms that can fit on a postcard."</div>
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<h3>
<a href="http://www.ajimagazine.com/" target="_blank">AJI</a></h3>
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Deadline: February 1, 2016</div>
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"Currently accepting submissions for our spring 2016 issue. While we are particularly interested in work that reflects upon our spring 2016 theme of the journey, we will be glad to publish high quality work on any subject. www.ajimagazine.com</div>
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<h3>
<a href="http://www.ajimagazine.com/" target="_blank">TWISTED VINE</a></h3>
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Deadline: November 15, 2015</div>
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"Currently accepting fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction, interviews, drama, cross-genre, and visual art for its fall 2015 issue."<br />
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<a href="http://charitonreview.submittable.com/submit" target="_blank">CHARITON REVIEW</a></h3>
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Deadline: Rolling</div>
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"Invites online submissions of previously unpublished short fiction, essays, and poetry."</div>
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<a href="http://cherrytree.submittable.com/submit" target="_blank">CHERRY TREE</a></h3>
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Deadline: October 15, 2015</div>
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"We are writers who value and publish well-crafted short stories, poems, and creative nonfiction essays that are not afraid to make us care. We want work that braves to be, that dares to be."</div>
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<h3>
<a href="http://www.msupress.org/journals/fg" target="_blank">FOURTH GENRE</a></h3>
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Deadline: November 30, 2015</div>
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"A literary journal that explores the boundaries of contemporary and creative nonfiction. Personal essays are welcome—including nature, environmental, and travel essays—as well as memoirs, personal critical essays, and literary journalism."</div>
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</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-46040125296961674252015-08-20T11:40:00.000-07:002015-08-20T11:40:16.364-07:00How Do You Love Your Books?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-REwNWb-ZJ3M/VdYeeTEewFI/AAAAAAAAAIw/RKr_3sE4_-0/s1600/antique-books.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-REwNWb-ZJ3M/VdYeeTEewFI/AAAAAAAAAIw/RKr_3sE4_-0/s320/antique-books.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b>How do you love your books?</b><br />
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Do you treat them gently, never dog-earing or writing in them, keeping them stacked neatly on shelves with titles facing out? Do you occasionally cull the ones you no longer need, which is easy because you've organized them so well, and donate some and sell others (which barely look used)?<br />
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Do you smoosh them into your bag, fold down a page because you keep losing bookmarks, scribble in the margins in what is probably your worst handwriting, shove them into a drawer with other books you aren't using but can't bear to give up? Do you mark your place by putting a pen between pages, creating a permanent place that the book now opens to every time?<br />
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I have fellow MFA students who are determined to write notes about the books they're assigned only in their notebooks. It helps them think better about determining a subject for their craft annotation. It leaves the book clean, unmarked, easily kept or sold or donated.<br />
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I think this is great. I can't do it.<br />
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I mark as I read. I circle, bracket, underline, draw arrows and stars, write in the margins, all of which can mean anything. When I go back, these marks simply tell me that I had a gut response to this phrase or section. This is my starting point for choosing a subject for the craft essay.<br />
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To be honest, I also find it fun--rebelliously so--to mark up a pristine book. It's mine now! Sort of cave-woman like, isn't it? Territory! Book mine! Go find own book! No share!<br />
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Just some thoughts I had after reading <a href="http://lithub.com/author/nick-ripatriazone/" target="_blank">Nick Ripatrazone</a>'s article in <a href="http://lithub.com/" target="_blank">LitHub</a>, <a href="http://lithub.com/the-pleasures-of-destroying-a-good-book/" target="_blank">The Pleasures of Destroying a Good Book</a>. Not just any book: a good book. The marks of love, like a worn-out stuffed bear. I don't know that I'd go so far as to break the spine, but I get it. Come to think of it, I've broken the spines of plenty of piano music books, so what's the difference?Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-70457105086116043212015-08-17T06:21:00.001-07:002015-08-17T06:21:47.498-07:00Two Open Contests for Both Flash Fiction and Flash Nonfiction <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4B102JckXbo/VdHecfThlaI/AAAAAAAAAIc/scjqG8Tlbug/s1600/write_short_book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4B102JckXbo/VdHecfThlaI/AAAAAAAAAIc/scjqG8Tlbug/s320/write_short_book.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
Have a short piece lying around that you're not sure what to do with? Get it out, do some editing, and find a home for it. Many litmags and journals now publish flash work; some do it exclusively.<br />
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<i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/How-Write-Short-Craft-Times/dp/0316204358" target="_blank">How to Write Short</a></i> is Roy Peter Clark's well-reviewed book about how to master the craft of writing a short piece. The fact that there is an entire book about it tells us that short does not equal easy. For me it's tougher, but very rewarding.<br />
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(I like that pencil-in-the-bullseye image.)<br />
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Interested in a contest? Here are two open right now:<br />
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<a href="http://gulfcoastmag.org/contests/barthelme-prize/" target="_blank"><b>Gulf Coast's Barthelme Prize for Short Prose</b></a><br />
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"Open to prose poetry, flash fiction, and micro-essays of 500 words or fewer." Judged by Steve Almond. Monetary prizes. Deadline: August 31, 2015. <a href="http://gulfcoastmag.org/contests/barthelme-prize/" target="_blank">More info here.</a><br />
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<h4>
<a href="https://cutbank.submittable.com/submit/45798" target="_blank">CutBank Literary Magazine's Big Sky, Small Prose - Flash Prose Contest</a></h4>
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"Seeking interesting, compelling fiction and nonfiction prose - in 750 words or fewer. Lyric essays, prose poems, short essays, vignettes - send us your best, most dazzling short form prose. Please feel free to include original photography or art." $7 entry fee. Judged by David Gates. Deadline: September 1, 2015. <a href="https://cutbank.submittable.com/submit/45798" target="_blank">More info here.</a><br />
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<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-26310410514447737002015-08-14T03:00:00.000-07:002015-08-14T03:00:04.655-07:00Memoir Craft: Grappling With Memory in Warm Springs (Part 3)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TZ72i9Tim1Y/Vcz91nCy73I/AAAAAAAAAIM/YyfkrJVP0BM/s1600/ancient-handwriting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TZ72i9Tim1Y/Vcz91nCy73I/AAAAAAAAAIM/YyfkrJVP0BM/s320/ancient-handwriting.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="http://www.amygrier.com/2015/08/memoir-craft-grappling-with-memory-in.html" target="_blank">In Part 1</a>, I wrote about <a href="http://www.susanrichardsshreve.com/" target="_blank">Susan Richards Shreve's</a> craft technique of writing about her memory within the creative narrative of her memoir, <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Warm-Springs-Childhood-Richards-Paperback/dp/B00ZT2BNGE/ref=sr_1_7?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1439497102&sr=1-7&keywords=warm+springs" target="_blank">Warm Springs</a>.</i> She begins immediately with the word "traces" and its double meaning: the small responses still evident in muscles atrophied by polio, and the flashes of memory she mines from her time living at the polio hospital.<br />
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<a href="http://www.amygrier.com/2015/08/memoir-craft-grappling-with-memory-in_11.html" target="_blank">In Part 2,</a> we looked at the beautiful scene describing Shreve's first memory, one that could not have happened, but she insists she remembers.<br />
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For this final part, let's consider the way Shreve makes use of her first novel, <i>Wooden and Wicker. </i>It is, as she admits, not a great piece of writing. She wrote it when she was eighteen and found it forty years later at a friends house while she was doing research for her memoir. She is embarrassed at the the manuscript's sentimentality, how many facts she changed, and how she created herself as the virtuous, undeniable hero of the story.<br />
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Although it was not intended to be non-fiction, Shreve was surprised how much her “youthful invention” differed from her “present memory.” Even with this discrepancy, she finds the novel useful for exploring certain memories and recapturing details. It may have even shifted the intention behind her writing: “I initially wanted to write this book to make sense of what had happened in the years I lived at Warm Springs, but it’s difficult to connect the strings of truth.” The search for memory, she’s saying, can change you, can make you want something different from your story than what you thought you wanted.<br />
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The metaphor of this “youthful invention” stands for the function of memory within her larger story, with all of its potential pitfalls and power. It must all be laid bare and explored, no matter how clearly accurate or embarrassing wrong. The intention of the writing must be flexible enough to shape itself around the framework of what memory allows.<br />
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After all of this consideration, Shreve declares that “the truth of this story is in the way I see it now” (63). This is a strikingly transparent statement of process and intent. As Shreve continues her story, researching and re-reading and questioning her memory, she once again decides to trust herself over everything else. This is the only way for her to create a cohesive narrative, and she does so both by believing in the power of her own mind while still allowing for its fallibility.<br />
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Shreve holds herself to this standard until the very end. As she is leaving Warm Springs for the last time, shrouded in the tragedy of Joey Buckley’s broken legs, the girls who shared her room say goodbye: “’It’s been really, really fun,’ Sandy Newcombe called after me, and her voice was breaking. I think I heard that her voice was breaking” (211). In one sentence Shreve sums up her entire philosophy of handling memory: trust yourself. Tell the story. Admit your fallibility but don’t be afraid of it; just be honest about it. This is what happened. I <i>think</i>.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-55615789865513695692015-08-13T05:22:00.000-07:002015-08-13T05:22:26.335-07:00Read the New, Digital, Annotated Alice's Adventures in Wonderland<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Tag this <a href="https://medium.com/alice-s-adventures-in-wonderland" target="_blank">latest edition of </a><i><a href="https://medium.com/alice-s-adventures-in-wonderland" target="_blank">Alice's Adventures in Wonderland</a> </i>"literary coolness:"</h4>
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From <a href="https://medium.com/alice-s-adventures-in-wonderland" target="_blank">Medium</a>:</h4>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">An annotated edition — twelve Lewis Carroll scholars taking a chapter each. A joint project from The Public Domain Review and Medium, in celebration of the 150th anniversary of the classic tale.</span></blockquote>
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Here's an example from Chapter 1...</h4>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well."</span><br />
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...with an annotation by <a href="http://www.educ.cam.ac.uk/people/staff/jaques/" target="_blank">Zoe Jaques:</a></h4>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"‘[N]ot a moment to think’: Carroll’s repeated references to Alice’s lack of reflection on her entry to Wonderland recalls both the impulsive nature of childhood and also the undirected and non-reflective manner of dreaming."</span><br />
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Read the text, complete with annotations, <a href="https://medium.com/alice-s-adventures-in-wonderland" target="_blank">here on Medium</a>. And definitely check out <a href="https://medium.com/alice-s-adventures-in-wonderland/arthur-rackham-s-illustrations-of-alice-s-adventures-in-wonderland-657d5d2d33b6" target="_blank">Arthur Rackhman's beautiful illustrations.</a>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-90275312882816909122015-08-12T03:00:00.000-07:002015-08-12T03:00:04.263-07:00This Week's Wanna Read: The Speechwriter. Read an Excerpt.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Emz5J2ypxQM/Vcpm7W2xQOI/AAAAAAAAAHs/FFK7jTSmAwc/s1600/the_speechwriter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Emz5J2ypxQM/Vcpm7W2xQOI/AAAAAAAAAHs/FFK7jTSmAwc/s320/the_speechwriter.jpg" width="209" /></a></div>
The <i><a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/news/book-party/wp/2015/07/08/what-its-like-to-write-speeches-for-a-rude-rambling-and-disgraced-politician/" target="_blank">Washington Post</a> </i>says it "will become a classic on political communication." The <i><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2015/07/30/books/review-in-the-speechwriter-barton-swaim-shares-tales-of-working-for-mark-sanford.html?_r=0" target="_blank">New York Times</a> </i>describes it as "a nice little examination of the anguish of writing" and "a marvelously entertaining book." <i>The Speechwriter</i> is "a welcome change of pace and scope" writes <a href="https://thepoliticsreader.wordpress.com/2015/02/24/review-the-speechwriter-by-barton-swaim-simon-schuster/" target="_blank">The Politics Reader<i>.</i></a><i> </i> I wanna read it, writes Amy.<br />
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I enjoy reading books about politics that take us inside the facade of press conferences, campaigning, and today's ever-present idea of "branding" and image-making. I l want insight into how human beings finding themselves in positions of power and/or influence make decisions that affect thousands or millions of people. How do those powerful people talk to each other? How do you make friends in that arena, or do you just make connections? What drives a person toward elected office or to work for an elected official? How do you live your own life when this happens? Can you? Is corruption or lying or obfuscating or covering-up just part of that life, no matter how intact your moral compass is when you begin?<br />
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I have a lot of questions. Also, I think <i>The Speechwriter</i>, while being a revealing take on the inner sanctum of a governor's office, will also be just plain fun to read. I'll find out.<br />
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Fortunately for us, <a href="http://lithub.com/the-speechwriter/" target="_blank">Literary Hub</a> has an excerpt from the book. <a href="http://lithub.com/the-speechwriter/" target="_blank">Read it here</a>.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-88633019735190455722015-08-11T03:00:00.000-07:002015-08-11T06:47:28.566-07:00Memoir Craft: Grappling With Memory in Warm Springs (Part 2)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IUUuaXE8Y_E/VcitH6LjlgI/AAAAAAAAAHc/08JGYyHGVBw/s1600/baby-crib.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IUUuaXE8Y_E/VcitH6LjlgI/AAAAAAAAAHc/08JGYyHGVBw/s320/baby-crib.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="http://www.amygrier.com/2015/08/memoir-craft-grappling-with-memory-in.html" target="_blank">In Part 1, I wrote about the first example</a> of <a href="http://susanshreve.com/" target="_blank">Susan Richard's Shreve's</a> craft technique of making transparent her process of grappling with memory. In her memoir <i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warm_Springs,_Georgia" target="_blank">Warm Springs</a>,</i> she employs the metaphor of being examined by doctors to find "traces" of muscle movement in her legs, which have been decimated by polio. Each muscle requires her complete concentration, patience, and focus; recovering her memories, she says, requires the same effort, even if it is only to find "traces" of them.<br />
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The second example is a stunning, one-page chapter titled "Memory in Process" in which Shreve recalls her first memory. She is one and half years old and recovering from polio. Her mother walks in and approaches her crib:<br />
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My mother is walking toward me in her long nightgown and it’s winter. Behind her a man, taller than she is and very broad, is following her. </blockquote>
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“Who’s that man behind you, Mommy?” I ask as she comes into my room. </blockquote>
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That’s the full measure of the image in my head. My mother supplied the words. </blockquote>
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Her mother turns around, but no one is there. This striking imagery is full of detail: the season, her mother’s nightgown, the size and shape of the man. This is what exists “in my head,” Shreve writes, an acknowledgement of the possible inaccuracy of her memory. Not only are the details suspect in an event that occurred at such a young age, but, as her parents told her, there was no man in the room. We can only assume that, in her weak state of health, she hallucinated the man, or perhaps mistook a shadow for the shape of him.</div>
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This is what is so brilliant about Shreve’s construction here: by encouraging the reader to ask these questions about this particular memory, we are asking questions about memory in general. What did she see? Why did she see and why does she still remember someone who was not there? Why is this her first memory, and such a strong one at that?</div>
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While encouraging these questions, Shreve makes clear in the chapter’s last sentence how she will trust her own memory regardless of possible inaccuracy: “My father insisted that the man was in my imagination, but I remember seeing him, and he was a stranger." The tense shift is crucial: “my father <i>insisted</i>” but “I <i>remember</i>.” By placing her memory in the present tense, she is stating that she is sticking by her version of events, even as she concedes that others may have different, even contradictory, memories of the same events. She is, in fact, claiming the right to tell her story.</div>
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Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-81982093442493734682015-08-10T03:00:00.000-07:002015-08-10T03:00:09.436-07:00Aging Doesn't Make Us Stupid<div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: source-sans-pro-1, source-sans-pro-2, Georgia, 'Bitstream Charter', serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 24px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
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I occasionally spend time at a writing retreat called <a href="http://www.porcheswritingretreat.com/" style="border: 0px; color: #d42a2a; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">The Porches</a>. After “quiet writing time” ends at 5:30, during which I stare out the window, drink coffee, sleep, and sometimes write something, I pour a glass of red wine (’cause that’s a hard day’s work) and play the old, out-of-tune piano in the parlor. Other writers sometimes sit and listen, which is fun for me and it breaks the ice.<br />
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Last year a woman made a comment I’ve heard many times when I play: “I wish I could play piano!” I hear that. I wish I could draw or speak Welsh. There’s always something to learn.</div>
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But when I ask, “Have you ever considered taking lessons?” The response is usually, “Oh it’s too late now.” Which is bullshit, because I’ve taught adults, and adults are my favorite people to teach. (Seriously. Screw kids and their ADD and germs.)</div>
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And I say “No it’s not,” because truth. And here’s the usual, entrenched-thinking reply:</div>
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“Its-easy-when-you’re-a-kid-you’re-mind-is-still-forming-it’s-too-hard-now.”</div>
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This not only makes me sad, it makes me angry. Why deprive yourself of a new experience that you truly desire? There are a lot of reasons not to study piano, but “my brain won’t learn it anymore” is not one of them. That sounds like laziness to me. Hey, I’m all for laziness, don’t get me wrong. Just be honest about it.<br />
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/piano rant<br />
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The <a href="http://www.bostonglobe.com/metro/2015/03/05/maybe-aging-isn-bad-after-all/VG7Jr73FstxcTl2h29CgRL/story.html?s_campaign=email_BG_TodaysHeadline" target="_blank">Boston Globe report</a>ed that a recent study–a big, big study–has been completed by MIT and Mass General that says many learning skills actually peak later in life, some even later than they used to:</div>
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Perhaps most encouraging: Vocabulary skills may not decline until well into our 60s. But researchers discovered something that intrigued them even more. Their data showed that vocabulary skills are peaking later in life now than they did decades ago.</div>
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Aging does not make you stupid.</div>
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Okay, here’s why you’re reading this: QUIZZES!</div>
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Researchers’ websites <a class="a" href="http://www.gameswithwords.org/" style="border: 0px; color: #d42a2a; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">gameswithwords.org</a> and <a class="a" href="http://testmybrain.org/" style="border: 0px; color: #d42a2a; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank">testmybrain.org </a>feature free tests that can be done in less than 25 minutes. Over the past several years, the websites have accumulated data from nearly 3 million people, according to the researchers.</div>
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Under 25 minutes cracks me up. Don’t they know we’re accustomed to discovering <a href="https://vgum.wordpress.com/2015/02/05/lets-all-take-this-personality-quiz-i-made-as-a-family/" style="border: 0px; color: #d42a2a; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">what high-end GOOP product</a> we are in under two minutes?</div>
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Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-61604353786180358662015-08-07T03:00:00.000-07:002015-08-10T06:38:07.939-07:00This Week's Wanna Read: Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://www.vice.com/read/ta-nehisi-coatess-between-the-world-and-me-is-full-of-relentless-insights-724" target="_blank">This book is so hot right now</a>. People who haven't read it are talking about it, that's how hot, how relevant, how urgent, how beautifully written this book is. I'm here talking about it, like I did in that previous sentence, and I haven't read it. For now, I'm accepting that I will find the book to meet all of those adjectives, because the consensus is just that strong.<br />
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If Toni Morrison <a href="http://www.theroot.com/blogs/journalisms/2015/07/ta_nehisi_coates_book_gets_endorsement_from_toni_morrison_the_only_one_he.html" target="_blank">agrees to endorse your book</a> and describes it as "required reading"--then refers to the writer as the successor to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Baldwin" target="_blank">James Baldwin</a>--it's going to gain a lot of attention.<br />
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I found some interesting, lesser-read reviews online, including one from the blog <a href="http://www.christiancentury.org/blogs/archive/2015-08/social-gospel-ta-nehisi-coates-between-world-and-me" target="_blank">"The Christian Century."</a> The writer is a Christian, and speaks against the comments of religious people who have derided the book because they find Coates' atheism an insurmountable obstacle to engaging with his message:<br />
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And yet, as a religious person reading <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0812993543?ref_=zg_bsnr_3048891_1" target="_blank">Between the World and Me</a></i>, I find his words to be deeply insightful and helpful for thinking not only about race, society, and U.S. history, but about the relationship faith has within that nexus... [p]lease read the book.</blockquote>
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The review also refers to Coates' message as "<a href="http://www.christiancentury.org/blogs/archive/2015-08/social-gospel-ta-nehisi-coates-between-world-and-me" target="_blank">social gospel</a>," which I find heartening and fascinating. This person of faith has found language to describe his own experience of the book; instead of forcing his worldview onto the text--which would almost certainly find it lacking, at least because of Coates' atheism--he finds a way into the book's message and dwells within its pain and pessimism without feeling his faith has been diminished for doing so. He encourages other Christians to do the same, ending his review by <a href="http://www.christiancentury.org/blogs/archive/2015-08/social-gospel-ta-nehisi-coates-between-world-and-me" target="_blank">expressing a clear connection</a> between religious people and Coates' social gospel:<br />
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For those thinking theologically about America’s social architecture, his words are a much needed challenge. With his atheism concerning many of America’s Gods, Coates may be surprised to find some religious allies.</blockquote>
The Guardian writes that Coates' perspective <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/books/2015/jul/14/between-the-world-and-me-ta-nehisi-coates-review" target="_blank">might be described as "post-cynical,"</a> which interests me. Is it like all the other "posts" we have, like post-feminist or post-modernist, in that we detect a shift in cultural awareness but can't think of a name for it yet? And does pessimism equal cynicism? And does an intellectual perspective require cynicism, or at least it did? Is part of what drives this book's necessity its resistance to categorization? Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-9288220683395997672015-08-06T03:00:00.000-07:002015-08-06T14:49:22.654-07:00Memoir Craft: Grappling with Memory in Warm Springs (Part 1)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CmY4MLbhB-A/VcJ-nACPC6I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/tHiF7UuDtR0/s1600/colorful_brain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CmY4MLbhB-A/VcJ-nACPC6I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/tHiF7UuDtR0/s320/colorful_brain.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="http://susanshreve.com/" target="_blank">Susan Richards Shreve</a> is concerned with memory--its accuracy, reliability, power, and how various people can experience the same events and have entirely different memories of those events.<br />
<br />
In <i><a href="http://susanshreve.com/books/warm-springs/" target="_blank">Warm Springs</a></i>, her memoir of spending two childhood years at a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Warm_Springs,_Georgia" target="_blank">polio hospital,</a> she is determined to tell the truth. The truth, as the reader discovers during the story, is established by Shreve in part by making transparent her process of grappling with memory.<br />
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On three occasions she takes time--within the story itself--to let us into her process. The first is immediate: the word "traces," which is in the subtitle and is the focus of the first brief chapter.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
My part in this examination, not the first in my life with polio, is to concentrate with all my might on each muscle, one at a time, in the hope that with my undivided attention, there will be a shiver of response and the doctors will rise up smiling…” (3).</blockquote>
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Shreve employs this metaphor of being examined to show that searching for memories requires disciplined concentration, patience, and belief that something real exists to be found. It also subtly acknowledges the violence that is done to memory by time, the way polio wreaks violence on the muscles. “When I think of the word ‘traces’ now,” she continues, “it is as a footprint or a shadow or a verb, like ‘unearth’ or ‘expose’ or ‘reveal.’”<br />
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"Expose" is the key word here for the reader; it is exactly what she is doing for us in terms of her own process. As she writes, she has “turned [her] attention to discovering what remained” (3). She is telling us that the first part of her process is to remember; and to do it purposefully, carefully, and with full concentration. We know, right from the beginning of the story, that she takes memory seriously.<br />
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<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-70100538019762152002015-08-05T14:45:00.000-07:002015-08-05T14:46:53.536-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UlNrCG45pNY/VcKB6LvX1XI/AAAAAAAAAGc/q3w6s-ERDKU/s1600/number_six.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UlNrCG45pNY/VcKB6LvX1XI/AAAAAAAAAGc/q3w6s-ERDKU/s200/number_six.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="http://www.amygrier.com/2015/07/six-word-memoirs-and-t-shirt-maybe.html" target="_blank">A few more </a>six-word memoirs I like from <i><a href="http://www.sixwordmemoirs.com/" target="_blank">Smith Magazine</a>:</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #674ea7; font-size: large;">chocolate chip cookie endowment coming soon</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;">I came. I saw. I sat.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;">Searching for profound moments of pleasure.</span><br />
<span style="color: #674ea7;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">These years writing about those ones.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #674ea7;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"> What the hell is going on?</span></span>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-20136044984261537302015-08-04T03:00:00.000-07:002015-08-05T14:47:29.844-07:00New Short Story by F. Scott Fitzgerald Published in The Strand Magazine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NEkrtPltOio/Vb97GLFNuwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/hucHZVEHFi4/s1600/fitzgerald.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NEkrtPltOio/Vb97GLFNuwI/AAAAAAAAAGA/hucHZVEHFi4/s1600/fitzgerald.jpg" /></a></div>
<i><a href="https://www.strandmag.com/" target="_blank">The Strand </a></i>has just published a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald titled "Temperature." Until recently, Fitzgerald's story about Emmet Monsen, a good-looking Hollywood actor whose health, career, and personal life are in decline, lay undiscovered in the Fitzgerald archives at Princeton University. Andrew Gulli, editor of <i>The Strand</i> who scours archives for lost short stories by famous authors, hit the jackpot. Gulli describes the story for <i><a href="http://www.seattletimes.com/entertainment/books/long-lost-fitzgerald-story-finally-published/" target="_blank">The Seattle Times</a></i>:<br />
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“Fitzgerald … couldn’t help using his satirical abilities to mock everyone from doctors, Hollywood idols and the norms of society... When we think of Fitzgerald we tend to think of tragic novels he wrote such as <i>Gatsby</i> and <i>Tender is the Night</i>, but ‘Temperature’ shows that he was equally adept and highly skilled as a short story writer who was able to pen tales of high comedy."</blockquote>
Last year Gulli found a<a href="https://www.strandmag.com/product/holiday-issue-of-the-strand-with-the-unpublished-john-steinbeck-story/" target="_blank"> short story by John Steinbeck</a> at the University of Texas in Austin called "With Your Wings," which he also published in <i><a href="https://www.strandmag.com/product/holiday-issue-of-the-strand-with-the-unpublished-john-steinbeck-story/" target="_blank">The Strand</a>. </i>Orson Welles had read the story for a 1944 broadcast, and Gulli discovered a transcript. <a href="http://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2014/11/07/362268913/book-news-john-steinbeck-story-resurfaces-after-70-years" target="_blank">NPR</a> describes it as "a wartime story that dwells on the challenges of a black American pilot's return home." <a href="http://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2014/11/07/362268913/book-news-john-steinbeck-story-resurfaces-after-70-years" target="_blank">In an email to NPR</a>, Gulli writes:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Steinbeck was an idealist. He saw America as this wonderful land with so much to offer but on the flip side, he could see inequality, he could see greed and excess destroying the working classes... This story strikes me as an effort to show middle America that African-Americans were carrying on a huge burden in defending the United States and the allies during the war."</blockquote>
I'm struck by how relevant these stories still are in the 21st century, where the <a href="http://www.academia.edu/693083/Being-in-the-world_of_celebrity_The_phenomenology_of_fame" target="_blank">personal and professional struggles of celebrities are played out in the media</a> and where <a href="http://www.cracked.com/article_21822_5-studies-that-prove-racism-still-way-worse-than-we-think.html" target="_blank">racism remains one of our most urgent and volatile social issues</a>.* Steinbeck and Fitzgerald weren't ahead of their time per se--they were writing about what they witnessed and experienced themselves--but I can imagine them returning to earth, finding they could write about the same things now, and still find a willing, hungry audience.<br />
<br />
*<i>This link goes to a Cracked article, which is obviously a little tongue-in-cheek, but to good effect here.</i>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-89983125334718487982015-08-03T03:00:00.000-07:002015-08-03T03:00:09.924-07:00John Ashbery is Eighty-Effin'-Eight And He Wrote Another Book<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3oj1M29BCj0/VbuFKTMjNkI/AAAAAAAAAFw/GS6e0yXtz4U/s1600/creepy_piano_baby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3oj1M29BCj0/VbuFKTMjNkI/AAAAAAAAAFw/GS6e0yXtz4U/s320/creepy_piano_baby.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Creepy picture? Or the creepiest picture?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Bitstream Charter', serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 24px;">
The great, renowned, Pulitzer Prize-National Book Award-Robert Frost Medal-etc.etc.-winning America poet <a data-mce-href="http://www.nytimes.com/2015/05/10/books/review/john-ashbery-by-the-book.html?_r=0" href="http://www.nytimes.com/2015/05/10/books/review/john-ashbery-by-the-book.html?_r=0" style="color: #743399;" target="_blank">John Ashbery</a> turned eighty-eight last week. Eighty-effin'-eight, guys. And he just wrote another book of poetry. Another effin' book. He's already published twenty-something books.</div>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Bitstream Charter', serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 24px;">
<a data-mce-href="http://lithub.com/" href="http://lithub.com/" style="color: #743399;">LitHub</a> published a poem, "<a data-mce-href="http://lithub.com/the-upright-piano/" href="http://lithub.com/the-upright-piano/" style="color: #743399;" target="_blank">The Upright Piano</a>," from his new book <em style="border: none; color: inherit;"><a data-mce-href="http://www.amazon.com/Breezeway-New-Poems-John-Ashbery/dp/0062387022" href="http://www.amazon.com/Breezeway-New-Poems-John-Ashbery/dp/0062387022" style="color: #743399;" target="_blank">Breezeway</a></em>. It's the best kind of Ashbery: full of imagery, asks a lot of questions, knows itself, invites you in, but still makes you think about what the hell is going on. Here's the first stanza:<img alt="" class="wp-more-tag mce-wp-more" data-mce-placeholder="1" data-mce-resize="false" data-mce-src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" data-wp-more-text="" data-wp-more="more" src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: initial; background-image: url(https://s2.wp.com/wp-includes/js/tinymce/skins/wordpress/images/more.png); background-origin: initial; background-position: 50% 50%; background-repeat: repeat-y; background-size: initial; border-radius: 0px; border: 0px; box-shadow: none; cursor: default; display: block; height: 16px; margin: 15px auto 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 614.390625px;" title="Read more..." /></div>
<blockquote style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Bitstream Charter', serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; padding: 0px 3em;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 24px;">
Did we once go to bed together?<br />And how was it? I need your help on this one.<br />Good thing it happened, too—<br />Intelligence without understanding<br />is like constant frost, pounding at the temples<br />until its bargain is overseen. I kid you not.</div>
</blockquote>
<div style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, 'Bitstream Charter', serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 24px;">
I know Ashbery's style is controversial and hyper-analyzed and over-scholarized (?) etc. but I just like him. I think he's funny and wise. After losing <a data-mce-href="https://vgum.wordpress.com/2014/12/02/can-we-talk-about-poems-for-a-minute/" href="https://vgum.wordpress.com/2014/12/02/can-we-talk-about-poems-for-a-minute/" style="color: #743399;" target="_blank">Mark Strand</a> last year, I'm just really glad this poet is still walking the planet.</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-58551254574485090822015-07-31T03:00:00.000-07:002015-07-31T03:00:07.580-07:00This Week's Wanna Read: Irritable Hearts by Mac McClelland<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MpB_v9UZNgg/VbrAFLgdBbI/AAAAAAAAAFg/0JPridy_Ekw/s1600/irritable_hearts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MpB_v9UZNgg/VbrAFLgdBbI/AAAAAAAAAFg/0JPridy_Ekw/s320/irritable_hearts.jpg" width="209" /></a></div>
When <a href="http://mac-mcclelland.com/about/" target="_blank">Mac McClelland</a> returns home after witnessing horrifying events in the aftermath of the 2010 earthquake in Haiti, she begins to experience strange and disturbing psychological symptoms, among them dissociation, nightmares, and hallucinations. After <a href="http://mac-mcclelland.com/" target="_blank">being diagnosed with PTSD</a>, she researches the disease while trying to heal, traveling the world, and falling in love.<br />
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Now that sounds like a story. Read an excerpt of <i>Irritable Hearts</i><a href="http://issuu.com/flatironbooks/docs/irritable_hearts_issuu/0" target="_blank"> here.</a><br />
<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-16101330509726148562015-07-30T03:00:00.000-07:002015-07-30T03:00:05.032-07:00Calls for Nonfiction Submissions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pv7K7XnQB4Q/Vbk1IJEGswI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/XRyKyxEoBD8/s1600/typewriter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="209" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pv7K7XnQB4Q/Vbk1IJEGswI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/XRyKyxEoBD8/s320/typewriter.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Here are the recent calls for nonfiction submissions filtered through <a href="http://www.newpages.com/classifieds/calls-for-submissions" target="_blank">New Pages. Check out their excellent site</a> for calls in other genres.<br />
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Remember to read some of the work in each publication that interests you. Send the pieces you've worked so hard on to the places where you think they'll be a good fit. <b>Read the submission guidelines very carefully</b> and follow them to the letter.<br />
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Latest calls for nonfiction:<br />
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<i><a href="http://animalliterarymagazine.com/submission-guidelines/" target="_blank">Animal: A Beast of a Literary Magazine</a></i><br />
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"Nonfiction: needs book excerpts, personal essays, experimental, memoir, humor. Does not want anything overtly religious, pornographic, or sentimental. Length: 5,000 words."<br />
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<i><a href="http://4ink7.com/submissions/" target="_blank">4ink7</a> </i>(New)<br />
<br />
"4ink7 seeks well-crafted (very well-crafted) and imaginative literary works. There is no genre that is out of bounds as long as it is excellent writing."<br />
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<i><a href="http://www.applevalleyreview.com/" target="_blank">Apple Valley Review</a></i><br />
<br />
Accepts essays. "We prefer work that has both mainstream and literary appeal. In other<br />
words, please send us work that is both accessible and finely written." Note: does not accept simultaneous submissions.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://urbanfarmpress.submittable.com/submit" target="_blank"><i>Urban Farmhouse</i></a><br />
<br />
Looking for essays on the craft of writing. "Urban Farmhouse Press is seeking essays on the craft of writing for their upcoming Ford City Writer’s Craft Anthology. Specific focus on fiction, poetry, and science fiction wanted. Essays should be a minimum 2000 words and maximum 9500 words, adhere to MLA formatting, and being single or co-authored."<br />
<br />
<i><a href="http://www.bodyverses.com/" target="_blank">Body Verses</a></i><br />
<br />
"We are especially drawn to pieces that consider the way we emotionally and conceptually navigate illness, the way we make sense of medical records in the context of our lives, and the way we cope with pain and aging."<br />
<br />
<i><a href="http://www.qulitmag.com/" target="_blank">Qu: a literary magazine</a></i><br />
<br />
Accepts essays. "Payment Upon Publication: $100 per prose piece, $50 per poem. Prose submissions (fiction, essays, script excerpts) should be a maximum of 8000 words. Poetry submissions may include up to 3 poems."<br />
<br />
<i><a href="http://emptysinkpublishing.com/2014/12/welcome-issue-10/" target="_blank">Empty Sink Publishing</a> </i>(a magazine for intellectual deviants)<br />
<br />
"Empty Sink Publishing is looking for professional-quality prose, fiction, non-fiction, poetry and visual media submissions that stretch the mind, defy convention, and offer a new perspective on life. We reciprocate by providing our contributors with the very best social media and guerrilla-marketing support a small publication can provide.: Note: does not accept simultaneous submissions. They don't have any nonfiction on their site right now, but <a href="http://emptysinkpublishing.com/reality/" target="_blank">do encourage submissions in this genre.</a><br />
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<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3052889619211834925.post-1083244501290712102015-07-29T03:00:00.000-07:002015-07-29T03:00:05.850-07:00Today's Happy WTF But Kind Of Sad TooI was searching for the correct kanji for the word "sakka," which means writer/artist.( Kanji are Japanese ideograms adopted from Chinese characters.) I clicked on "images," and this was one of the first pictures to pop up:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XXRBIyjzqiw/VbOTn3jhtjI/AAAAAAAAAEE/d1SAASbMi3c/s1600/nimoy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XXRBIyjzqiw/VbOTn3jhtjI/AAAAAAAAAEE/d1SAASbMi3c/s320/nimoy.jpg" width="268" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kitty!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
This is obviously hysterical, and my first reaction was "Kitty!" My second was "Nimoy!" My third was "Nimoy with a kitty!" Pretty awesome pic, even as a kanji search result.<br />
<br />
And then I got sad, because he died earlier this year, and I really enjoyed having him on the planet. But I'm happy I have the internet to unexpectedly remind me that we still kind of have him.<br />
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<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02277269236568977299noreply@blogger.com0