The Life and Times of a Writer

The Absent Writer

2012-01-31T17:15:00.000-08:00

Hello! I'm still here!

Apologies for being away for so long. I could not believe how much time had passed. I apologize in advance for this incredibly brief update, but I'm currently trying to accomplish at least three separate things at once. However, I wanted to update my beloved readers about the goings-on in my life (including my exciting new writing job) and to let them know that I'm still here.

First off, my final semester as an undergrad. Most of my classes are incredibly dull and theory-heavy, which leaves me feeling incredibly rundown some days. I have Feminist Theory, Gender and Culture, Greek, and Sex and the Eternal City (all about the lives of women in Ancient Rome, which is incredibly interesting). No finals, but every class has a massive final paper. Yikes!

Now, for my good news: I managed to land an internship with about.com. Starting in February and ending in June, I will be writing about an assortment of topics having to do with women's history. I'm really looking forward to it as it sounds like it's going to be a great opportunity to flex my writing muscles and hopefully gain a little more exposure. Whenever an article is posted, I will put the link in my "Published Works" page, so keep an eye on that and please let me know what you think.

I just finished my first article: a biography of the fantastic Aphra Behn (the very first English woman to make a living through writing).

She was also briefly a spy.

Unfortunately, all this extra work means that I will be an absent blogger more often. Rest assured, whenever I have a spare moment or two, I'll come running back to update. So please stick around.

Dualisms: Literary/Genre

2011-12-27T17:58:00.000-08:00

I'm a masochist. Or at least I have masochistic tendencies. I often remain subscribed to mailing lists even when I know they will be an unending source of aggravation. Case in point: I just received an email from one of my social networks (can they be called that even if one never participates in them?), notifying members of a contest for unpublished writers. It seems to have some prestige, though personally I've never heard of any of the winners. Curiosity peaked, I decided to check it out. I made the mistake of getting my hopes up. A contest especially for women writers who are unpublished.

Unsurprisingly, the contest is not open to lowly genre writers. Oh, no, no, no. This prize only advocates serious literary fiction. Translation: "Go [blank] yourselves, genre writers. We're only interested in serious/actual writing here. Important writing that can make a difference." Because genre is incapable of commenting on culture or human relationships.

In most of my women's studies courses, the concept of dualisms has cropped up. Dualisms is a fascinating way to explore sexism. Sherry Ortner, a renowned feminist anthropologist, explored the topic in a paper she wrote back in the seventies entitled "Is Female to Male as Nature is to Culture?" In it, she explores among other things how women are seen as closer to nature and men are the creators of culture. It's a fascinating paper that I highly recommend looking up.

How this relates to writing: you can apply the idea of dualism to writing. Much like how women are equated with domesticity, passivity, and nature, different writing is associated with different qualities. Literary fiction is serious writing and genre writing is frivolous. Literary is powerful, genre is powerless (commercial). Literary is writing, genre is playing/childish. Literary is valuable, genre is valueless/pointless.

These rigid dualisms create preconceived ideas about writing, regardless of how baseless they may be. As a result, many writers are being ignored and many voices are going unheard. Most of these voices are women. There are no prestigious contests for women of genre. There are plenty of popular awards for genre writing, but most of these are awarded to men. Don't forget, there is a massive glass ceiling in the field of genre. Women genre writers are often doubly screwed: they face an enormous amount of sexism and/or dismissal from people in genre and literary writers turn their noses up at them.

As I have pointed out in the past, there is little to no support available to those writers of genre that happen to be women. I find this to be incredibly depressing. Genre can be incredibly complex and beautiful, but is seen as little more than poorly written sword & sorcery/alien abduction/ haunted house simplistic writing. Genre writers are seen as having nothing to contribute to the art of writing.

I'm a writer. I make my living through the art of words. I have a wide variety of interests and read both literary and popular fiction as well as nonfiction. My writing deals with contemporary topics and issues. Does it really matter if it happens to fall under the umbrella of genre?

Art, Gender, and Altered States

2011-12-20T16:35:00.000-08:00

In my Music, Gender, and Sexuality class, I gave a presentation on Music and Altered States. I kind of fumbled it (well, actually, I did fine and got a 4.5/5, but I can't stop obsessing over the 1/2 point I lost for a stupid mistake that I made. Because that's how insanely obsessive I am). The presentation touched on something that I have been fascinated with for a couple years now. Art created by individuals experiencing or in altered states.

I like the term altered states. I first heard it in a class I took on Classical Mythology. While talking about Dionysus, my professor explained that calling him a god of drunkeness was too simplistic. He thought that calling him a god of altered states was more accurate.

Now when I refer to altered states, I'm not talking about opium addicts writing long-winded rambling poems in their stupor or some drunken moron penning what s/he considers to be a masterpiece. I use the term to refer to art created by people that suffer from psychiatric disorders. It can be any medium: music, painting, writing (poetry or prose), film, or even comedy. Anything that allows the artist to bring his/her audience into a world that we don't normally experience. A world that has been stigmatized to the point where we try to isolate those who suffer from disorders. There is a huge stigma that surrounds those who suffer from psychiatric disorders. I have always found it peculiar how these disorders are almost always blamed on the people that suffer from them. Depression is perhaps the best (or worst) example of this. It's a disorder that is often blamed on the person who suffers from it and they are often chastised for being "too negative". Disease of the mind are seen as somehow in the control of those who suffer from such disorders, as if they choose to be depressed or bipolar.

As I mentioned, a great stigma surrounds those who suffer from psychiatric disorders. This lack of understanding can lead to feelings of isolation, which is possibly one of the most emotionally painful feelings. To be able to take this isolation and pain and create something of great beauty is something that I find incredible. To be able to work through that kind of pain takes a kind of strength and fortitude that is nothing short of admirable.

I recently saw an incredible piece of video art by a Finnish artist named Eija-Liisa Ahtila entitled "The House". I highly recommend looking it up. Ahtila doesn't suffer from any psychiatric disorder herself, but she has done extensive research and interviewed women that suffer from such disorders for "The House" and created this amazing work that allows the viewer to experience what it is like to have such a disorder. Using three screens, Ahtila plays with time (all three screens are slightly out of sync, which is slightly disorienting). The images are sometimes bizarre, but they along with Ahtila's voice-over narrative helps the audience to understand Ahtila's actions throughout the piece. What would normally be weird suddenly becomes understandable.

Eija-Liisa Ahtila in "The House"

For my class, I presented on Kristin Hersh. Hersh is one of my favorite singers. I think she is incredibly unique in the way she uses her voice, lyrics, and sound to create songs. Her music is beautiful and haunting. For this class, I presented on a song entitled "The Letter", which is possibly the saddest song that I have ever heard. My argument was that the song could be read as expressing the pain experienced by one that suffers from bipolar disorder. I highly recommend listening to the song. It's one of the few songs that still moves me.

Kristin Hersh

Hersh has stated in interviews that she hates the idea of art and mental illness being irrevocably intertwined, which is understandable. It's a gross oversimplification to claim that the mental illness is what makes someone a great artist, or hinders it (depending on your point of view). However, I still think it is an important topic, if only to reduce some of the stigma surrounding those who suffer from such disorders.

I also think there's an interesting question to be asked here: what part does gender play in how art created in these altered states is viewed and/or received? How does the message differ? You would think that mental illness would be seen as more feminine (since women are supposedly the more emotional gender). From what I've seen though, it depends on the disorder and more often than not, psychiatric disorder is used to discredit art created by women. Often, it is solely used to define their work. Discussions surrounding Francesca Woodman's body of work, for example, revolves almost solely around how it relates to her suicide.

"See. She's disappearing into the wall. Therefore she must have been depressed!"

"Great scott, you are right. How brilliant!"

Rather than exploring the message of art created in altered states, people seem to be more concerned with "diagnosing" the artist, which really doesn't even freaking matter! The importance of art created in altered states, in my opinion, is more about how an audience can be brought into a different world and exposed to a different language. It's about how we are all people, human beings, regardless of gender, race, sexual orientation, or illness. We all experience the world differently, some only slightly and others completely. We are so concerned with differentiating ourselves, struggling to meet some kind of standard of "normal", establishing some kind of superiority, that we frequently lose sight of the fact that we are all just people. We deserve to live the life we want, so long as it doesn't harm anyone else.

Instead of diagnosing and labeling, we should be listening. There should be a variety of voices instead of just the sole white, heternormative, male voice that dominates everything (including art). There's a huge world out there, filled with so many amazing voices and experiences, none of them exactly alike. So why is it that the bookshelves don't reflect this?

Happy Holidays! Hope all of you have a wonderful and safe holiday season :)

Lovecraft and Writers Solidarity

2011-11-23T17:56:00.000-08:00

I have managed to escape the zoo/looney bin/prison that is my dorm for the holidays. To relax and unwind, I watched a short documentary on H.P. Lovecraft. While I have not read much of Lovecraft's work, all genre writers have some notion of who the man was. My Gaiman-addiction is how I first became aware of Cthulu and before this, I was aware of Lovecraft from my horror addiction. I had heard titles like Re-animator and Dreams in the Witches House. I had caught Dagon once and thought it was not half-bad. It was actually quite creepy. When I went to a Gaiman book-signing, which I wrote about a while back, I encountered and individual that was livid with all the adulation and praise piled on Lovecraft because the author was a known Nazi.

The documentary (Lovecraft: Fear of the Unknown) was a fascinating look at a deeply flawed man but brilliant novelist. Lovecraft was not a Nazi, but was a blatant xenophobic. He was somewhat of a recluse, which might be partly to blame for his archaic and xenophobic views on life. Lovecraft was much more interested in books than in socializing. He did quite poorly in academic settings, nearly suffered a nervous breakdown in New York, and was just the definition of an eccentric, which is just a fancy way of saying that the man was odd.

What interested me most about the documentary was Lovecraft's desire to live through his writing. The man refused to get a job due to his dedication to his writing. I got the distinct impression that he didn't even think about money. Not because it wasn't important, but because he simply couldn't do anything else. Writing was not a choice, it was a compulsion. Lucky him, he was a guy.

That probably was mildly bitter-sounding. I had to register for my next and final semester a couple weeks ago. I was greeted with that all-important question: "So, what are your plans?" My adviser assumed that I would be continuing with my writing, but as a freelancer. I don't mind freelancing, but I don't think that's my road in life. It's not what I'm built for, for lack of better phrasing. I'm a novelist. Whenever I have a spare minute, I'm pouring over my own work. When on break, I'm sending out mountains of query letters. I love being a novelist. I throw my whole being into my work, bleed for it. Like I have mentioned repeatedly, writing isn't a choice for me anymore than breathing is.

Unfortunately, leading a literary life is not admired anymore. Writing has become another corporate entity that is concerned only with profit, not quality. New writers nowadays are faced with two options: sell out or get doors continually slammed in their faces. This is especially true of writers that happen to be women and those that happen to be younger.

Watching the documentary on Lovecraft, I was struck by how different his experiences would have been had he been a woman. Lovecraft was notoriously critical of his work, to an extreme. As I have mentioned before, this is a sign of a good writer. There were a few stories that Lovecraft never sent out because he didn't think them good enough. He had a circle of writing friends that found these stories and published posthumously. Were it not for them, we never would have known of these stories. They even started a publishing company (Arkham) to publish his works.

This leads me to another unwritten post that I am still working on, but perhaps my wonderful readers can answer a question that has been troubling me for a couple months: are there any examples of friendships between women authors?

I know there are a couple examples among the female surrealists. However, there has been a trend that I have noticed in writing, particularly among women genre writers. I can only describe it as animosity brought on through competition. Feminists have often commented on how women are encouraged to fight against each other rather than support each other. I have often noticed in my own personal life how women are praised for befriending men, but not other women (mostly because it is assumed that they will just do this naturally). Girls nowadays are admired for being "one of the guys", but are chided for being overly girly if hanging out with friends that happen to be women.

What I wouldn't give for a Riot Grrrrl scene for women of genre: Genre Grrrrl. Perhaps there could even be a sub-group: Writer Grrrl.

Bikini Kill, because Kathleen Hanna is awesome incarnate

Obviously, for writers, you would replace the microphones and guitars with typewriters

Hey, writers can be badass rockers too

Happy Thanksgiving to all my wonderful readers. I'm thankful for each and every one of you who keep up with my blog (even with the occasional rant/tangent)

So thank you all and happy writing! :)

A Call for a New Feminism

2011-10-09T08:13:00.000-07:00

Hello dear readers. I hope most of you are still with me. My choice to take on an overloaded schedule may have been a poor one. I'm lucky if I find the time to sleep anymore, much less write.

On Thursday, in my Women's Studies course, I had to give a presentation with three other peers about a chapter on warrior women in popular culture. While giving this presentation, I was confronted with the most offensive and pretentious academic snobbery that I have ever encountered. The women in the class saw themselves as "above" such low-entertainment as genre. Worse, they saw the entire body of genre as anti-feminism. Their reasoning could not have been more over-generalized and, quite frankly, ridiculous: "It's telling young women that the only place they can be strong and equal is in a fantasy world."

Really? Sadly, this appears to be the popular opinion. At least in that class, which I was not exactly fond of to begin with.

I was able to shoot down most of this reasoning with solid arguments, but I can tell I was just brushed off. My opinion was not as valid as theirs because I was "one of those misguided genre women". I must hate my womaness to enjoy such sexist trite. This is one of my problems with academia in general: this kind of "higher-than-thou" attitude that leads to snobbery and dismissal of anything that falls outside "serious" work.

As I have argued before, genre work is damn hard. It deserves just as much respect as so-called "serious" writing, especially when it's done by women seeing as how myself and my genre-sisters are still trying to break the glass-ceiling of the mostly all-boys club that is genre. That's why I believe that we need a new type of feminism. While there are already a multitude of feminisms, there are new ones emerging every day. I would like to add to it with "Genre Feminism".

Here are some things that I would like to see in Genre Feminism.

*Genre feminists would be both men and women alike, so long as they both believe in and strive for equality within genre work. Whether a fan of genre, outright or in secret, or for someone who knows someone that is, this feminism would allow for serious discussion about genre and its tendency to be dismissed in academic settings.

*Genre feminists would work to make genre more accessible to the people who are frequently left out of the field of genre. This could mean more writers, a greater variety of roles for women to play, or anything else that would promote a wider diversity of people working in genre.

*Genre feminists would promote a better understanding of genre in general, including but not limited to how it is just as important as "serious" work.

*Genre feminists would make genre empowering to all genders, orientations, races, and ages.

Perhaps I am just an idealist, but I do get tired of being looked down on as less of a writer and less of a feminist simply because I enjoy and write genre. I have a wide variety of interests and causes, just like everybody else. Genre is a big enough field to accommodate everyone, so why is it consistently dismissed as "low-art" and those who work in it seen as "childish" or "not real/actual/serious writers"? That just is not fair nor is it accurate.

I wish I knew how to create web badges. I would like to create one for women of genre and their allies that I could put on this blog.

I couldn't think of a picture to include, so I decided on something seasonal

I have always loved when the leaves change color

Writing Announcement

I don't normally make announcements like this, but I just finished a difficult article for The Next Family (Surviving the Nightmare, found under "Published Works"). It was hard to write because I still struggle with just how much to reveal without coming off as naval-gazing and the subject matter was still deeply personal. Non-fiction is really difficult for me because I am always paranoid about coming off as self-indulgent. My experience with The Next Family has been a great learning experience for me and I am quite pleased with how my articles have been coming out.

So if you are interested, I always update my "Published Works" page with links to my work.

Tossing a Bone

2011-09-09T16:43:00.000-07:00

The Women and Genders Studies program at my college has their own Facebook page. It's not updated very often, but occasionally they post interesting things like information about internships and the like. A few days ago they posted a link to a webzine that is looking for "stories about fat women" written by women. While the intentions may have been harmless enough, I still found it to be incredibly irksome because it's telling writers what to write.

Now obviously this is fairly common practice in the publishing world, especially to those just starting out. At some point, the majority of us are going to have to write something that we're told. Either by an editor or a professor. It will feel as though your creativity is being stifled, but sometimes you have to focus on the technical part of writing.

What annoys me about this webzine is that it's a ploy. They are trying to put on a show of openness by essentially reducing women to body types. While there is certainly a stigma around overweight bodies, is this remedied by only accepting stories about overweight women? And not even overweight women only, overweight by "that character's worlds standards". So in other words, you can write a story about an average weight woman in a world of anorexics? Exactly how is that going to help promote more overweight characters?

I really dislike these kinds of special issues appeals. "Send only stories that have characters that are X-Y-Z" or in other words, only stories about the other. Don't get me wrong, I want to see more variety in characters. Certainly more than "hot guy" and "hot chick", which is essentially all you get in popular culture nowadays. There should be characters of all body types, sexual orientations, races, and ages on the bookshelves. However, maybe the answer is to open up publishing more instead of "just what sells". If agents and editors care about promoting diversity, than they should publish more stories with characters that are outside the norm. Yes, this might even require publishing something that is not so "mainstream". Oh the horror.

Still, there are plenty of publications out there that do just that and they seem to do all right. Perhaps not as well as the big publications, but honestly, that's the fault of the consumer. You see, dear readers, this is a problem that requires effort on both parts to remedy. We as consumers should diversify our bookshelves. Purchase some novels that perhaps outside of our reading comfort zone. Not trashy things, mind you, but books that promote diversity rather than stifle it.

Or else take the easy way out and just buy magazines that occasionally publish stories with a character that is [insert whatever you like here]. Just keep in mind: they only publish authors with fairly lengthy resumes, not first-timers.

"This year, we're only accepting stories that look as though they're written with a quill

Not actually written, mind you. LOOK as though they were."

Profile of a Woman of Genre

2011-08-26T16:56:00.000-07:00

I went to Borders today for the last time. While I could write an entire post about encountering a writer's worst nightmare in the flesh, namely a bookstore stripped bare, I decided that would be much too depressing. Instead of dwelling on the depressing scene, I wandered the empty shelves to look for some forgotten treasures. Me being me, I managed to find one. It is an author that I should have read years ago and for whatever reason, did not. However, I shall remedy that in the next few days. For now, I would like to introduce my dear cherished readers to this author.

Angela Carter

http://ggbb.org/meet-the-broads/angela-carter/

I first became aware of Angela Carter a while back when genre started taking a turn to the fairytale. There was a sudden influx of updating, re-imagined, and other work that had to do with the old fairytales, mainly the ones by the Grimm brothers. A number of magazines and webzines started looking for stories based off such tales. Of course, most of these works completely missed the point of the original tales. It never fails to amaze me how someone can come so close to the original intention of a story and then completely miss the point. Most updated fairytales tend to focus solely on the erotic undertones, creating little more than a neutered softcore story. It is the women characters that frequently suffer the most. We've achieved suffrage, reproductive rights, and closed the pay gap somewhat, yet we still can't seem to let go of the age-old tired trope of damsel in distress when it comes to our stories.

Of course, there have been some attempts to remedy this by feminists. However, there is an easy pitfall that is frequently stumbled into: empowering the woman to the point where the story is completely lost. I love strong heroines, but what I don't like is when a story is written solely (and frequently clumsily) to declare that "my femininity is stronger than your masculinity". Subtlety, nuance, and other markers of a good plot are often lost in this method. I'm all for feminist revisioning of stories, but not at the price of a good story.

So when I heard that one of my all-time favorite movies, The Company of Wolves directed by Neil Jordan, was based on a story written by a woman, I was immediately intrigued. To me, The Company of Wolves is one of the best reimagined fairytales there is. It's a little dated, being made in 1984, but it still holds up. It has all the twisted undertones and erotic undercurrents that make fairytales so interesting. It is all about sex without explicitly showing it. Dark, twisted, Gothic, this movie is incredible.

Angela Carter worked with Neil Jordan on the script for this movie, her first experience writing for film. You would never guess it when watching the movie. Reading the notes on the film, apparently it is closer to the radio play of the story adapted by Carter. Carter was an incredibly versatile writer: novels, poetry, radio plays, nonfiction, children's stories, she could write it all. She was known for her fantasy and magical realism stories. I've never quite understood the difference between fantasy and magical realism, as one seems to fit neatly into the other.

Carter was born in 1940 in England (she passed away in 1992, also in England). She battled anorexia as a teenager. Reading about her amazing life, one can't help but notice a constant motion. She traveled everywhere, apparently an incredibly curious individual. When she visited Tokyo in 1969, she claimed that she learned what it is to be a woman and to be radicalized. She explored the US, Asia, and Europe. Fluent in French and German, she spent a lot of time a writer in residence in a variety of universities. That is the thing I admire most about her: she never stopped writing. Even when she became ill, she was working on something: a sequel to Jane Eyre based on the later life of Jane Eyre's stepdaughter.

Carter's work is what all fairytale updatings/reimaginings should be: respectful of the story while also still showcasing the writer's creativity. Carter is known for focusing on the darker and more erotic aspects of the stories.

Today in Borders, I happened across a copy of The Bloody Chamber, which I quickly snatched off the shelf. It shall be coming with me when I return to campus this Saturday. I regret that I'll never meet Ms. Carter. She's someone that I think would be an amazing dinner guest, the stories she could tell. She had an incredible life and an incredible mind.

This quote by Margaret Atwood summarizes her perfectly: "She was the opposite of parochial. Nothing, for her, was outside the pale: she wanted to know about everything and everyone, and every place and every word. She relished life and language hugely, and revelled in the diverse."

More information about Angela Carter can be found at the following links:

Angela Carter Remembered

BBC Interview

Interview with Elisabeth Jolly

A Conversation With Angela Carter

Guerilla Girls Profile

And of course, looking up the links on Wikipedia is also worthwhile.

Waking From a Dream

2011-08-23T18:31:00.000-07:00

On August 14th, I returned home after thirty-five days abroad. It was the longest I had ever been away and perhaps that's why upon returning home, I felt that I was walking into a different world. So much seems different. Borders is out of business, people I know are starting college (either teaching it or entering their freshman years), I'm about to wrap up my last year as an undergrad. It's almost surreal.

When I got home, one of my first tasks was that I had to write a post-internship paper about what I learned from my internship, what I will take from my experiences, and what goals I thought I had accomplished. Mostly I focused on how my work related to women and genders studies issues, but the most valuable lesson I walk away with has to do with my writing.

Writing, creating stories, is so fundamentally a part of who I am as a person that I can't imagine doing anything else. Not even when I'm on vacation (I was working on a story even in Europe, as well as numerous letters and emails). While my internship was nonfiction writing, fiction is where my heart is and where it will always be.

While navigating through the different countries, I often found myself studying people, both locals and members of the tour group I was part of. Their speech, their mannerisms, everyone had a unique way of carrying themselves and interacting. It almost became a dance, one that would tell you who liked who and who was just tolerating who. Sometimes it could tell you how someone was feeling. It gave me a new appreciation for the uniqueness of people. How do some know their role in the dance while others are clueless? What makes someone a character? This will prove useful in future exercises in characterization and something that every writer should do regularly.

Perhaps the most interesting part of the tour was seeing how integral stories are to civilization and to who we are as people. It seemed like everywhere I looked, there were ancient stories that have been with us since mankind first evolved into logical beings. Whether it was Roman gods in Versailles, the ruins of ancient Greece, or Pinocchio throughout Italy, myths and stories were still a part of daily life, even if most people didn't consciously notice them. Characters flooded the major galleries and attractions, which gave me a new appreciation for stories. People have never let them go. We need them, even today in our modern world.

This is why I dislike when people say they don't like to read or believe that being a "novelist" isn't a respectable/actual job. This is why art is so important to us as human beings. They make us who we are, whether we realize it or not. We take so much from stories: lessons in morality, ideals to strive for, entertainment, even culture. We use stories to learn about the world we live in. They can hold a mirror up to society or sometimes simply transport us to another world when we need an escape.

Of course, it makes me a little sad that writing has become an incredibly divided field where different kinds of writing can only be written by certain people. Women struggle for recognition in writing in general, but in genre in particular. Right now, the easiest way for a woman to get published is to write nonfiction (and even that's an uphill struggle). While I do enjoy writing nonfiction, I feel much more comfortable in fiction. I like writing fiction and I think I'm fairly good at it.

I suppose I can take comfort in the fact that stories are still found all over the world. As long as there are people, there will be storytellers. We're not going anywhere.

Bring on the Sisyphean task of getting published.

One of the best parts of the trip: Shakespeare and Company in Paris

The most beautiful little independent bookstore in the world

*Please excuse any rambling or lack of clarity in this post. I'm still a tad jet-lagged and I'm moving back to campus on Saturday. I haven't been able to reboot my brain yet, but I really wanted to update my blog. Classes start next Tuesday and my schedule is insanely heavy, so I'll probably only be able to update once a month (if that) until December. When did life get so hectic?

Gender Bias in Genre

2011-07-04T11:47:00.000-07:00

This topic is one near and dear to my heart and it makes me sick that some people still debate that there's actually a problem when it comes to sexism in genre writing. I recently read an article written by Heidi Martinuzzi, creator of the excellent website FanGirlTastic, about an interview where the editor of the fantasy/scifi webzine InterGalactic Medicine Show in which he dismissed the gender bias in genre writing: SF/F Editor Callously Calls Published Author Gender Disparity "Close Enough"

This type of attitude crystallizes the problem in publishing today: gender bias is dismissed as a non-issue. There's no question about why there is a discrepancy. It's merely brushed off as "the way things are". Or, my personal favorite, when editors insist that there just aren't that many women with an interest in genre writing. In other words, the discrepancy exists solely because there are more male writers than women writers. The message is that we're making a big deal over nothing. The truth is that women are discouraged in a number of ways from writing genre material.

I've already written numerous times about the mindset that men just won't read genre that has been written by women (because we have cooties or some other asinine shit like that). This leads many women to write under a pen name. There are a couple of other tactics used to prevent questioning the discrepancy, which are common responses to any kind of feminist argument.

1. Labeling the Protesters

Anyone who has ever attempted to offer a level-headed feminist response is familiar with this tactic. Often, it's as simple as declaring the arguer is "overreacting" or "trying to make something out of nothing", thereby dismissing their argument before it is even put forth. Occasionally, it gets a little more personal, as in labeling the protester a "bitch" or a "feminazi" (a term that I've encountered more times than I care to count).

People that are comfortable with the discrepancy are comfortable with the way things are and don't want anything to change. In their minds, women don't belong in genre and genre shouldn't be changed to be more inclusive. It will somehow ruin it. If you point out the unfairness of the industry, it's shrugged off as the way things have always been. Basically, women are expected to just lie back and accept it.

2. Offering a Rare Exception to the Rule

This is the one that always makes me see red because it is such a bullshit argument. When pointing out the sexism used against genre writers that happen to be women, a person will brush you off by saying something along the lines of, "If there were sexism in genre, would someone like J.K. Rowling/Stephanie Meyer have the success they do?" At which point, I usually have to struggle not to start throwing punches.

To me, this is the equivalent of someone saying "I'm not racist. I have plenty of [insert ethnicity] friends." Exceptions to a rule doesn't negate a discrepancy! Why aren't there an equal amount of men and women genre writers? Why do agents and editors still send out rejection letters that say "I just don't think people will buy fantasy/scifi/horror written by a woman"?

Also, if you look at the two examples written above, they write a very specific type of fantasy. The kind that women are "allowed" to write: the kind geared towards young adults. There's a fair amount of ~~abuse~~ romance in Meyers, more than any kind of genre. It's a romance masquerading as genre. And we all know that only women can write fluffy romance (only fluffy romance, because men are the ones who do all the deep writing). Serious fantasy writers, such as the great Ursula Le Guin, are little known outside of fantasy fans.

Much of this can be attributed to the whole practice of art solely for profit (another thing I've frequently mentioned is the fact that there is almost no more art for art's sake). Publishers and agents only want what sells, whether or not it's good. It's a vicious cycle of people swallowing whatever is put out for them and publishing putting out what they're swallowing. It is interesting that even though this is a vicious cycle, women writers are the ones that are still screwed over more often. Art, in any medium, is one of the last fields where you can be a sexist/misogynistic/racist/bigot with little to no repercussions.

The problem with men dominating genre (or just art in general) is that it leads to the overwhelming perversity of the male gaze. Without any kind of balance between genders, or ethnicity or sexual orientation, we view the world through a single lens. It is through this lens that we get social constructs of what constitutes masculinity and femininity. Right now, our culture is dominated by the patriarchal view (usually the wealthy, powerful, white Christian male point of view) of the world.

When it comes to publishing, we are bombarded with the male view. Most of what is taught in school is written by men, meaning most of the characters we grow to love (be they male or female) have been created by men. This is not to say that men can't write women characters or anything like that, quite the contrary. Male authors have created some fantastic heroines.

What I am saying is that women have rarely been given an equal opportunity to create the kind of fascinating worlds and characters that male authors have. If the only concept we have of women and genre is what men define as such, that's going to create a lot of problems. One need only look at the discrepancies in publishing, and in what sells and appeals to different genders, to see this.

Reading about the problem of overt sexism in genre literature also brings to light another problem faced by women who work in genre. The reputation of genre itself, namely the mistaken notion that it is "low art", works to effectively isolate genre feminists from "serious feminists". The fact that genre is looked down on and even scorned by many literary connoisseurs, creates a schism that helps bolster the practice of "No Girls Allowed in Genre", which in turn discourages women from trying their hand at genre. So many women want to be taken seriously as writers and genre has the reputation of being little more than pop art. Certainly nothing to be taken seriously. It's quite amusing to see the lengths people, especially women writers, go to in the attempt to avoid the genre label. Gothic is just another word for horror, people. Mary Shelley wrote a horror novel, deal with it.

Because genre is seen as unimportant, it is not a feminist issue save for the women that work in it and love it. Most feminist literary heroines work in respectable writing: nonfiction, journalism, and literary fiction. Even Margaret Atwood, a great writing chameleon who has dabbled in scifi a few times, is labeled a literary writer. My former mentor often mentioned that he didn't know much about genre writing or how to sell it (a point of pride for "true" literary types). Women are raised to be above such childish pursuits as fantasy, horror, and scifi, which are marketed as little more than juvenile male fantasies. There are even critics out there that have openly stated that there is no such thing as a woman fantasy/horror/scifi fan. Never mind how many women work (or at least try to work) in these areas.

I can't help but wonder if discouraging women from working in genre goes back to the Classical Civilizations. Genre, fantasy more than the others, certainly has strong ties to mythology (whether overtly or not). Women were not exactly treated well back in Classical times, to put it lightly. Being a writer as well as a Classics enthusiast, I see many parallels in the discouragement of women back then and now. Enough to convince me that even at the very beginning of genre, women were left out.

Genre is, and always has been, dominated by men. It's difficult for a woman to get any kind of recognition, not the least is because it's not seen as a feminist issue, save for genre feminists. True, genre is a small group of people, but I happen to be the kind of feminist that thinks that sexism in any guise is unacceptable. Whether it's sexual harassment, lack of opportunities, or indeed even something as simple as saying someone can't do something because they happen to be of a certain gender, ethnicity, or sexual orientation and the general public just won't be interested in what they write/paint/sing/create.

Ida Lupino, the only woman to direct an episode of the original "Twilight Zone"

Directed the episode, "The Masks", considered one of the best episodes of the series

Also the first woman to direct a film noir

Happy 4th of July!

Wanderlust

2011-06-18T20:33:00.000-07:00

Hello my wonderful blog followers. Apologies for being gone for the last few weeks and for this pseudo-update. I've been relaxing and soaking up every minute of the summer while also doing a fair amount of freelance work. It is an absolute blast and I could not be happier (well, perhaps with a few less spates of boredom, but nothing is perfect).

Just wanted to let my loyal readers, and those awesome newcomers, know that updates are going to be sporadic at best for the next couple months. I'm finally getting a chance to take my dream vacation: 33 days of exploring Europe. My first time ever out of the country. Hopefully this will help to recharge my writing batteries. What's even better is my being able to tie it in with my internship. So I get credit for doing what I love. How cool is that!

So between all the prep-work and freelancing, my time has just been completely eaten up. This means I'm having trouble finding time to update my blog and when I do, I tend to get rather distracted. It's like I'm having one constant bout of ADHD. I can't stay focused on any one task for any measurable amount of time. It's driving me up the wall!

I'm hoping that when I get back in August, I'll have worn myself out enough to be able to focus on simple tasks again. In the mean time, for more of my writing, keep an eye on my "Published Works" page. Any time something of mine is posted, I will put the link up there. You can also follow my Flickr account for visuals of my journeys (and believe me, there will be plenty of those). As always, following me through Google friend connect, or whatever the thing is called, will keep you updated to the random odd post if I get the chance or have an idea that I simply must post.

I'm so excited that I simply can't think of anything else to add. I'd insert a smiley face here, if I weren't so against text speak (bad experience, see the rant about peer reviews).

Keep reading, keep writing, and most of all, keep exploring!

The Power of Language

2011-06-09T19:27:00.000-07:00

On June 4th, I took part in the "SlutWalk" that was held in Chicago. The march was a protest against the consistent victim blaming (sometimes called "slut shaming") that is frequently used against victims of sexual assault. As one sign declared, "Nobody ever asks what the rapist was wearing."

Being a writer, I'm keenly aware of the power of language on our thought processes and our behavior. Applying labels to an individual can take away a person's identity, their individuality, and reduce them to the status of "other" in the eyes of the culture. While some may see this as a gross overstatement, when you really think about it, everything is reduced to words. Language is the tool that we use to interpret the world around us, to translate it into concepts that we can understand.

I'm going to try and tackle some rather complicated theories, so please bear with me.

The fact that there is a patriarchal bias in language is not a new concept. Part of the feminist movement of the 70s had to do with removing the patriarchal bias in language (replacing "he" with "he or she" or the correct variation of "their", replacing job titles like "mailman" to "mailperson"). However, the one part of language that has never been corrected is the lack of sex-positive words for women. There are none, while men have a long list. Men can be players, studs, Romeos, Casanovas, etc. Women can be sluts, whores, bitches, cougars, maneaters, cockteases, promiscuous, nymphomaniacs, etc.

I first became aware of this in my Intro to Feminisms class when we thought up a list of sex-positive words. Once we finished, we realized that they all applied only to men. When we tried to think of a list for women, we couldn't come up with a single one. It's not too difficult to connect this apparent bias to the prevalence of rape in our culture. If you use a language of degradation to describe an individual, that person is seen as less than human. And being less than human means that one is not entitled to the same rights.

Looking through history, you see endless examples of women that are the victims of language: rumors, gossip, labels, etc. This was especially true of the women that tried to "speak" their own way, i.e. lived the way they wanted to, worked on what they wanted to, defining their own identities. Clara Bow (her story is well summarized here), Marlene Dietrich, Kate Chopin, Artemisia Gentileschi, Hypatia. Strong women have always been demonized, vilified, and it starts with the language used to describe them. A trend that continues to this day and it's as common now as it was back then.

Clara Bow: brought down by rumors

Women are brought up to fear their sexuality, frequently faced with two extremes: either you like it and are therefore unhealthy or you don't and still unhealthy. We've taken the Victorian idea of sex and run with it, namely that women are not supposed to enjoy it (it's our job and nothing more). This is reiterated in our popular entertainment whereas the "slutty" girl is inevitably the bad one or else just killed off real quick.

Speaking as a writer, I can attest to how frustrating this mindset is. It's incredibly difficult to write any character whose sexuality or desire falls outside of that acceptable norm. Especially with this influx of (hetero) chastity porn that is currently clogging up genre, both on the bookshelves and movie screens. Yet whenever a woman expresses her sexuality, you have to be very careful to avoid it becoming exploitative. It's one of the more difficult aspects of characterization.

The answer is not an easily accomplished feat: women have to reclaim the language. We have to find a new way of speaking that doesn't degrade women. This might require our reclaiming words like "slut" and "bitch", reinventing them to mean something positive, perhaps even empowering, or at least take the power out of them.

I do believe that this basic bias is where most misogyny and sexism stems from, where it's rooted. If it is corrected, I think that a lot of other problems faced by women would be more easily approached. The sad fact is that inequality rooted in language is the most difficult to solve. As with all difficult and complicated problems, most people prefer to just pretend it doesn't exist and those that point it out are simply overreacting (that's when feminists, such as myself, usually get called a "feminazi", a word that has been used to scare most women away from feminism. A perfect example of language being used as a weapon as well as a way to shape how people think).

Language is important, not just to writers. Until we eradicate the bias that exists in our language, we'll continue to experience inequality in all its forms: everything from fewer opportunities to sexual violence. It's going to take a lot of creativity to remedy language, but I remain hopeful that someday it will be accomplished.

Feminine Shape Shifters

2011-06-08T18:06:00.000-07:00

When I first started seriously writing, I had a mentor that would assign me different things to research or do. These homework assignments ranged from simple writing assignments to watching movies to pick out certain plot details or characters that could relate to my work. One particular assignment was to find as many movies with shape shifters as I could, watch them, and take notes on how they differed from each other (ex. plotting, characters, how the shifting looked, the biology behind it, etc.). This turned out to be a rather useful exercise because I came to realize that no two shifts were exactly the same.

For example, the first movies I watched were a couple of werewolf movies: The Howling and An American Werewolf in London (both part of the werewolf craze of the 80s). While the atmosphere is similar in both movies, though Werewolf in London has a bit more dark humor whereas The Howling tends to stick to the wracking up tension mode, the werewolves look quite different when shifting. London is a lot more graphic and the creature has a more wolfish look when the transformation is complete. Howling is more a monster movie in which the werewolves look little to nothing like actual wolves. Comparing these transformations to the original Wolf Man and the differences are even more apparent. Interestingly enough, I've noticed that nowadays, werewolves tend to adhere more closely to looking like actual wolves (or the movies/TV shows just use real wolves and CG the transformation). The 80s seemed to be the end of the wolf/man hybrid creature.

As I continued with my research, I became aware of a trend that ran through all the movies: namely that there was a distinct masculinity to the werewolf, even if it was a woman transforming into the animal. Even a movie like Ginger Snaps (by far, my favorite werewolf movie. Come on, equating lycanthropy with a girl's first menstrual cycle, how genius is that?), when the wolf came out there was a distinctly masculine sense. Perhaps it's due to the fact that when dealing with species of the dog family: dogs have distinctly masculine connotations.

There was a disturbing trend that I found with women shape shifters, particularly of the werewolf variety: the need to be caged up. Whereas men are generally just killed, women seem to be caged up an awful lot. Whether it's just a suggestion (shackles in a basement) or a blatant scene (a panther that used to be a woman, docilely laying in a cage in the zoo), women shape shifters frequently seemed to end up in cages. Having read a great deal of psychoanalytic theory, I saw this as an outright declaration that sexual women need to be domesticated in order to have a place in society.

This is not to say all werewolf movies are misogynistic nor bad movies, not at all. I love a good werewolf movie as much as the next person (provided the werewolf is actually scary and not some tween wet dream). This is merely a trend that I observed while looking through these movies.

Once I got through the werewolf movies that I had chosen to watch, my mentor assigned me a couple other movies to watch: Altered States and the 80s remake of Cat People. The first was just a bit too bizarre for my liking. The second made me a little uncomfortable with its resolution, but I found the idea intriguing so I sought out the original.

Cat People (with Simone Simon) to this day remains one of my favorite classic horror movies. It's the movie that I recommend to people that don't particularly like genre films. I don't know of anyone that has seen this movie and disliked it. It's one of those atmospheric films that just sticks with you. I came to see at as a feminine werewolf movie, since cats have such strongly feminine connotations.

One interesting thing about Cat People is the way it uses the often sexual symbolism of transforming into an animal. Irina knows she will turn into a panther should she be aroused in any way, not necessarily sexually. It could be jealousy or anger. The movie is very Gothic in appearance, theme, and especially the resolution (which is happy yet not). And Irina never ends up in a cage.

This movie works on many levels and can be approached to research many different things: sympathetic yet flawed women characters, spooky atmospheres, literary stripteases (how to reveal a little at a time), and of course that thin line between civilized and wild.

Simone Simon: the original cat woman

*There's a sequel to the original "Cat People" entitled "Curse of the Cat People", which is completely different in mood and theme to the first movie. It's about the dangers of childhood and it's a really beautifully made movie. It warrants a look.

**I needed to write something and this being one of my favorite movies, I've wanted to recommend it for a while now. This seemed like the perfect opportunity, so I decided why not.

The Mabinogion

2011-06-06T18:51:00.000-07:00

Geek that I am, I was practically squealing when I finally found a used copy of The Mabinogion, the version illustrated by Alan Lee, at a reasonable price. I ordered it and waited eagerly, checking the mail everyday until that wonderful day it arrived. Much to my delight, it was in even better condition than promised. I was almost afraid to start reading it, because I'm odd like that.

I should explain that this desire for Welsh myths was partly because of curiosity but also due to my work. I've been experimenting for the past couple years with different kinds of characterizations and character identifiers/markers. I've been working on a series off and on where the different "families" of characters are identified by the origins of their names (so one group will have Spanish names, another English, etc.). For the main group that I was going to focus on, I chose Welsh. Why? Welsh names have incredibly unusual spellings that make them look quite old. Since this group is more or less timeless, I figured it would be a fairly easy fit.

I chose a name for my main character that I liked only to realize later that it was a name from The Mabinogion. Upon finding out that one of my favorite illustrators, Alan Lee, had illustrated a version of it, I immediately started hunting for an affordable copy. It took me months (it's hard to find a copy priced under $100). Once it arrived, I immediately flipped to the story about Olwen (the name that I liked). Once I saw the illustration, I practically laughed out loud. I describe my Olwen as a dark-haired, olive-skinned woman, usually dressed in tight, dark-colored clothing. Oh yeah, and she would never be caught dead in a dress. The Olwen from The Mabinogion looks like this:

She also rarely ever speaks, whereas my character is not one for silence. Granted, both characters live in completely different times, but still: night and day.

The tricky thing with Welsh myths is that they are incredibly odd, especially when it comes to narrative. The main character that you follow in the beginning is almost never the one you end up with. I was e-mailing someone recently where I mentioned how unusual I found this type of storytelling. The tales in The Mabinogion are never really one single tale, more three stories in one. It's quite easy to get turned around and I frequently had to flip back to the beginning to figure out who the new guy was. It gave me a new appreciation for older myths and more straightforward narratives. I haven't even finished the book yet.

Another odd feature is that The Mabinogion is a collection of tales from different eras: a few stories are from more ancient legends, some are Arthurian legend, and there are at least one or two that just seem to stand alone. Perhaps it is these unusual features that keeps me turning the pages. Granted, I still prefer the more ancient myths, but I can't help but find these stories interesting in their own right.

As for my own character: normally, when I borrow a name from a myth, I try to include subtle nods to the original character. It could be a similar characteristic, a mannerism, or something as simple as a preference for a certain color or symbol. Because of the way The Mabinogion is told, this is proving to be most difficult. The Olwen in there, despite being one of the titular characters of the story, is incredibly vague. She's one of those main characters who is almost always backstage, so to speak. The notes even mention the fact that little is known about her. I never dwell on it though. Dwelling is a major contributing factor to writer's block. When I return to the series, if I do, I'll keep what I read in the back of my mind and I'll think of something. It's much easier than it sounds.

The trick is to do it right.

I'm an unashamed woman of genre. Or rather, I'm a genre fan and writer that happens to be a woman. I'm also a feminist. Many people don't see genre and feminism as compatible, as I've mentioned in previous posts.

I recently stumbled across an interesting documentary through my favorite genre website (FanGirltastic). The documentary is entitled "Bloody Breasts" and it's an exploration of women in horror, a genre that falls under the "genre umbrella". I haven't watched it all the way through yet, but the concept is intriguing. It's an exploration of women, most if not all of them feminists, that work in independent horror cinema.

About the Project

There are three episodes up and they each run a little more than ten minutes: Episodes

I really like the idea behind it. So often horror is labeled misogynistic without even really looking at the content of movies with the "horror" label. There's no debating that some movies are deeply, and even disturbingly, misogynistic. To label a whole genre as such, though is inaccurate. I think a scholarly approach to the genre is a great way to start clearing up the misconceptions.

Mourning a Fellow Artist

2011-05-28T18:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I was heartbroken to find out that one of my all-time favorite artists, Leonora Carrington, had passed away on Thursday. Carrington was the last living member of the original Surrealists. She lived a full, often exciting, life and never lost that inner fire that drives artists. I couldn't help but smile while reading her obituary (found here: Leonora Carrington). She was feisty, refusing to take crap from anyone. My favorite excerpt is the story about a man giving her some money and asking her to get him some cigarettes, to which she snapped "Get them yourself".

Going through my books on Surrealism, Carrington pops up everywhere. She has always been my favorite Surrealist because of two things that seemed to set her apart from the other women in the movement: (1) she was both a writer and a painter (2) she never attempted to separate herself from feminism. Quite the contrary: she embraced the movement. Carrington enjoyed close friendships with the other women Surrealists, particularly Remedios Varo and Frieda Kahlo. Her paintings frequently depicted strange creatures that seem to spring directly out of the unconscious. I always thought her work had distinctly Latin characteristics, perhaps because of her friendship with Varo and Kahlo. There are also clear references to myths, particularly in her early work.

Perhaps my favorite thing about Carrington was her ability to see the bridge between painting, sculpting, and writing. Often times, the graphic arts and the literary arts occupy two separate fields and never the two shall meet. Writers and painters/sculptors don't seem to speak the same language, travel in the same groups, or even share the same struggles. Writers think painters and sculptors have it easy (they can leave a work unfinished and no one will be the wiser. Hell, they can just decide something is finished and it will still be art). I'm sure painters and sculptors feel the same way about writers (what's so hard about committing some words to paper? They get to describe what they're thinking whereas we have to physically portray it). I'm sure both groups think there is no connection between the mediums, but there is.

Carrington wrote a number of fantasy stories as well as painted a number of pictures and created a number of sculptures. She never saw one medium as superior to the other. In a retrospective of her work, she wrote the following:

Writing and painting are alike in that both arts--music as well--come out of fingers and into some receptive artifact. The result, of course, is read, heard or seen through the receptive organs of those who receive the art and are supposed to "Be" what all these different persons perceive differently. Therefore it seems that any introduction to art is fairly senseless since anybody can think or experience according to who he is. ~ Leonora Carrington, 1975

It may seem a little strange: grieving a person that one never met. Still, I can't help but feel this loss quite deeply if only because of how much I admired Carrington. She was a gifted artist who happened to be a woman. She was independent and strong, sexually liberated (being both forward and coy when interviewed, as you see in the obituary) and completely unashamed. She overcame some really difficult things and managed to survive the boys club that was Surrealism. Dali called her "a very important woman artist", which won her approval. Misunderstood by her family, she sought acceptance in her art. She never allowed anyone to define her. She defined herself, both as an artist and as a person.

Another thing that won her my admiration was her stance on feminism. I don't know if it's because women frequently feel as though they are in competition with each other or just a fear of being pigeonholed, but women artists often fight tooth-and-nail against the label of "feminism". Meret Oppenheim went so far as to adamantly refuse to allow her work to be published in a book about women artists in the surrealist movement (Women Artists and the Surrealist Movement by Whitney Chadwick). While I support a woman's right to define, categorize, and label her work as whatever she wants, I don't understand why feminism is such a dirty word. Of course, I might be a little hypocritical: I find the term "chick lit" to be one of the most offensive terms in literature.

Unlike her sister artists, Carrington dove into the feminist movement headfirst:

Most of us, I hope, are now aware that a woman should not have to demand Rights. The Rights were there from the beginning; they must be Taken Back Again, including the Mysteries which were ours and which were violated, stolen or destroyed, leaving us with the thankless hope of pleasing a male animal, probably of one's own species... ~Leonora Carrington, Commentary from A Retrospective, 1975

I think Carrington hit on a key point in this one excerpt: the hope of pleasing men. So much of art is male-dominated. Women have been relegated to the role of second banana. It's so common, so regular, that we don't even give it a second thought.

The reason why women artists are viewed as somehow less important than male artists is because we accept this mode of thinking. We barely learn about women artists in school, so they must not have done anything all that important. My experience with Art History was less than enjoyable, partly because of how few women were mentioned (and if they were mentioned, it was solely in passing. We spent more time on a hack, Kinkaide, than we did on all women artists combined). Most of this blame falls on the patriarchal leanings of our culture, but we do have a share in it. How many of us really dig through the history and find women artists, be they singers, painters, sculptors, or writers? Not enough.

I can't count the number of times that I've been told (and indeed, am still told) to give up on writing. Not just from the publishing world, but from my own loved ones. Genre isn't art. Writing isn't an actual job, not fiction writing anyway. Give up and pursue a real career. Fantasy is childish, you need to grow up and realize that. It stings anew every time I hear it. Sometimes I wish I could follow in Carrington's footsteps and just run away from it all. Unfortunately, there are no art movements to escape to.

Imagination is key to understanding Carrington and perhaps the thing I identified most with her. She lived in a spectacular world inside her head. She saw a beauty that no one else could, so she recorded it through her art. There's something delightfully twisted and impish about her work. She enjoyed playing games: "come and find me. Try and figure out what this is." She used her work to fight back against whatever was frustrating her, usually having to do with her upper class background. She wrote a particularly violent story called "The Debutante", which I really want to read, shortly after she was "debuted" to high society.

Carrington fought to achieve her goals and her tenacity paid off. She achieved what most artists will only dream of. I believe she worked right up until the time of her death, which isn't unusual for an artist. She left a legacy that insures she will be remembered, both through her family and through her work. It's a shame that more artists don't do the same. Is this because it's simply not feasible to make a living through art anymore or because it's just too damn frustrating having to jump through so many hoops or is it something else? Who knows?

Carrington's passing seems to signal the end of something, though I'm not sure what exactly. It makes me sad that she is almost never mentioned in art history books or classes. I found her purely by chance: when I was researching Meret Oppenheim a couple years back, I stumbled across the fact that there had in fact been a few women Surrealists. I blame Breton for this oversight (I tend to blame him for most of what was wrong with the Surrealist movement. What can I say: the guy was talented, but he was a total dick).

I hope that Carrington inspires many more girls and women who dream of being artists. She certainly inspires me to fight even harder to get published. Perhaps that is her greatest gift to the women artists that come after her. We're tough as hell and we'll fight until we get the recognition we deserve.

I was going to include a picture of Carrington, but decided an artist would prefer to be remembered through their work

This is a self-portrait she painted

Mea Culpa: In writing this remembrance, I made an error. I stated that Leonora Carrington was the last living original member of the Surrealist movement and this was a bit inaccurate. There is one other, a woman: Dorothea Tanning. She came to the movement later, but is still considered by some to be an original member. And she is still very much alive. So my humblest apologies.

Book or Nook?

2011-05-22T18:18:00.000-07:00

Before I get into the faux-meat of this blog post, I must state upfront: yes, I realize that the title of this post is a bit inaccurate (Nook and Kindle/e-books are two different things), but I like the way this title sounds. I'm the writer, so that's the title I'm going with.

I've spent the past few days, maybe week, unwinding after a highly stressful semester. As I frequently do when trying to unwind, I like to get introspective and think about things. My most recent self-debate is in regards to the e-book phenomenon. The newest popular technology is the Kindle, a virtual book. Where you would once see people holding a physical book, now you see them staring at a flat screen. They are everywhere: on the train, in the classroom, in coffeeshops, etc. The physical book is dangerously close to becoming quaint.

Many authors are putting in their two-cents. The newer ones are all about technology. Self-publishing is easier than ever with the rampant popularity of e-publishing. Any Joe Schmoe can write a bunch of words and post it up on the internet, maybe even see a small profit. Older authors, and old souls, seem to be rather wary of this surge in popularity of "modern" reading.

One of my very favorite authors, the magnificent Ursula K. Le Guin, has weighed in on this issue in an essay in her new book The Wild Girls. An excerpt of that essay can be found here: Riding the Avalanche

Fangirltastic also has some commentary on this excerpt that is worth a look: Why Ursula K. Le Guin Hates the Digital Book Industry

My opinion lines right up with Le Guin. The e-book and Kindle is an issue where I find myself quite torn. On the one hand, I like the physical sensation of reading a book: the touch, the smell, and even the look. I like being able to make little notes in the margins (occasionally) and the ability to put little sticky tabs on important pages that I want to refer back to. On the other hand, the convenience of having a hand-held library is certainly tempting. I like to call myself a "book grazer". Before I take the plunge into one novel, I often like to pick up three or four and read the first couple pages. It helps me decide what I want to read. This is fine when I'm in my room, but when I'm traveling, I only have so much space for books. I can't exactly lug twenty books about.

Still, I feel like a traitor for looking at Kindle devices. If I were to indulge, wouldn't that just be adding to the problem and screwing over new writers like me? The e-book is a big reason why the publishing industry has slammed its doors to new writers wishing to go the traditional route. While e-publishing may appear more democratic, it most certainly is not. It removes need to browse in a bookstore, which was often how people found new writers that they might not have otherwise read or even looked at. It also spells doom for independent bookstores, another place of refuge for newer authors. Don't believe me? Think for a moment about what people are reading on Kindles. Chances are they are either texts for school or books from the bestsellers list. I would wager that there aren't a lot of independent or self-published authors turning up on those glowing screens.

Kindle also encourages the overall laziness of the "reader", which has contributed to people not reading. This ties into the point about people no longer browsing in the local bookshop. Much of what is found on a Kindle are the books that people know they want to read, something they either heard about elsewhere or else read about in the newspaper (online, of course). When they buy the virtual book, they know what they're looking for and there's no chance that they will stumble across something else that might interest them. Okay, yes, Amazon has a feature "You might also be interested in...", but come on. Five books? Really? Maybe fifteen, but do most people really scroll all the way through?

I recently read a fascinating article on the art of Francesca Woodman entitled A Disappearing Act: Francesca Woodman's Portrait of a Reputation by Harriet Riches. Woodman made a single book of a series of five photographs, which she called Portrait of a Reputation. While the article revolved mostly around the possible symbolism behind this series, what caught my eye was an observation Riches made about the intimacy of the act of turning the pages of the book. There's a way that you physically interact with an artist when you touch the pages that they did. Woodman is able to play a game with her audience. As Riches observes, the flaws and dirt found in the pages draws attention to the physicality of viewing. The line that caught my eye, and the one I think is most relevant to this post is the following:

"Provoking a moment of inter-subjective communion, the act of page-turning is described by Stephen Bury as an imaginary re-creation of a 'shared, common skin, where the touch of the artist meets the touch of the reader'." (Riches, 110)

Granted, the medium is somewhat different. Still, I think there is a bit of truth that can be applied to writing as well. By removing the physical book, we are removing ourselves even more from the writer. The writer and the audience become even more detached. The art itself becomes even more diminished.

Kindle does have its advantages, I'm not denying that. However, I think Kindles are more often used solely for convenience rather than as an aid (or a traveling library). Unfortunately, this convenience comes at the newer, younger writers expense. Established writers are negatively effected too, but it's the younger writers that are left out in the cold.

Endangered species

New Blog Page and SlutWalk Chicago

2011-05-11T09:02:00.000-07:00

Greetings dear readers. I'm currently hard at work on a number of things having to do with my internship, so this is going to be a short update-type post.

First, there is a new page (as you may have noticed): "Guess the Texted Novel" is that for-fun quiz that I mentioned in my previous post. The instructions for that are on the page and so is the explanation about the motivation behind creating it. I was originally going to make it a blog post, but it took up a little too much space and I figured it was better as a blog page.

On January 24th, 2011, a Toronto police officer stated that "women should avoid dressing like sluts in order not to be victimized." This opinion is part of a disturbing, blame-the-victim trend that is apparent when it comes to the issue of rape. It is a sadly commonplace idea that women that were victimized were "asking for it", either by the way they dressed or acted.

However, there are people that refuse to accept this simplification of rape and sexual violence. As a result of the officer's insensitive comments, women in Toronto organized a "SlutWalk": official site. The movement has gone global, with walks starting to take part all over the world. The Toronto group is hoping to create a global movement and it seems like they will be successful.

On Saturday, June 4th, a "SlutWalk" will take place in Chicago (info can be found here). I am going to march. As I've stated many times in this blog, I am disturbed by the prevalence of the "blame-the-victim" mindset. When I was a senior in high school, a girl in my school was raped and all anyone could talk about was how it was her fault (for drinking, for going to a party, for stating that "she wanted to make a porno").

Aside from supporting the cause, I'm also fascinated by the way feminists reclaim words in order to erase their power (ex. "slut", "bitch"). It seems to be an effective tactic, and a creative one to boot. Granted, trying to change "history" to "herstory" was a tad misguided, but pointing out the gender bias in language was definitely a step in the right direction. I will be recording my experience in this walk and writing an article about it. It promises to be a good time.

I encourage any readers of this blog to look for "SlutWalks" happening in your area and take part in it. Information on the different walks taking place can be found on Satellite SlutWalk. It will also direct you to the site created by your local SlutWalk where you can get information.

SlutWalks are open to all ages and genders. So get out there, strut your stuff, and proclaim that words can't hurt.

Fall Courses and an Announcement

2011-05-01T17:22:00.000-07:00

Greetings, lovely readers. I'm so bored that I'm starting to work on things that I've put off for much too long. Papers, blog posts, etc. Unfortunately, my brain is pudding at the moment, so things that require a modicum of intelligence or thought are proving to be rather difficult. Because of this, I figured I might as well let my readers know what classes I'll be exploring come Fall term. I will be a senior this year, my final year as a college undergraduate. As for where I'll go next or what I'll do...well, it's much too early to tell.

But anyhow, fall term. It's looking to be a rather depressing year I'm afraid. Most of the courses are not by choice but by necessity.

Intro to Math Thinking

This course aims to give non-mathematics majors a sense of the importance of mathematics in human thought and an appreciation of the beauty and vitality of present-day mathematics. Material varies. Sample topics include combinatorial puzzles, number theory, tilings, networks, symmetries, map coloring, knots and surfaces, alternative number systems, and infinite sets.

*I need one last math or science credit to complete my liberal arts requirement. This is my "math for dummies" class. It is the easiest math class offered and it sounds like I can pass it, so I'm taking it.

Half-Baked Flesh and Wandering Wombs: Theorizing the Female Body in Ancient Medicine

This course aims to explore the various theories of the makeup and workings of the female body among the texts of Greek and Roman medical writers, including (but not limited to) selections from the Hippocratic corpus, Aristotle, Soranus, and Galen. Moreover, we will examine how these texts can inform an analysis of Greek and Roman society by asking what these texts can tell us (if anything) about philosophical theories of the body and soul, gender relations and attitudes towards women, assumptions about male bodies, and real medical practices in the ancient world.

*This is my Classics course (since I always need to have at least one in my schedule). I had wanted something to do with literature, but there was nothing that fit into my schedule, so I took the course that was cross-listed with Women and Genders Studies. I have mixed feelings about this class. It sounds interesting enough, but I thought the same thing about Film Music (a class that wound up being the bane of my existence. I'm not being overdramatic either: that class just ended and it's still screwing me over! It's like those stereotypical monsters that just won't freaking die!)

Intro to Women's Studies

This course takes seriously the need to understand women's richly diverse lives from global perspectives. As a topics-based and women-centered course, Introduction to Women's Studies works to both retain the long tradition of consciousness- raising out of which the discipline emerged, as well as make use of the vast expanse of research material now available in aiding our understanding about women and gender both locally and globally. It examines the relation between experiential knowledge and more traditional forms of scholarship, and it investigates a variety of topics which include differences based on race, ethnicity, class, sexuality, and nation; creative responses to oppression; and women's experiences within institutions such as family, religion, media, economy, health, and the state.

*This is another degree requirement. It sounds interesting and I'm hoping that it's easier than my Feminisms class (I feel bad writing that, not the least of which is because my professor from that class is now my adviser). I am interested in genders and the feminine experience, though it can get rather depressing at times. It's 2011 and a huge portion of the population still thinks a woman doesn't have a right to her own body or autonomy.

Music, Gender, and Sexuality

This course examines the role of musical practices and texts in the creation of understandings, beliefs, practices and performances of gender and sexual subjectivity. Students will engage in intersectional analyses to identify and contextualize the relationship between gender, sex, sexualities, and musical practices in case studies throughout the world. Explorations of the relationship between gender, sexuality, and musical texts and practices will be situated through recourse to the theoretical paradigms and methodologies of feminist/women's/gender studies and the field of ethnomusicology. We will consider additional elements of difference and social location, especially race, ethnicity, class, trans/national consciousness, religion, body politics and dis/ability, violence and militarism.

*I know, I know: another music class. I must be a masochist. However, this class is taught by an ethnomusicologist (I believe) and it sounds rather high-minded, much more so than Film Music. Here's hoping. One thing is certain, the experience I have in this class will likely determine if I ever take a music class again.

To be added at registration

Beginning Ancient Greek

Intensive presentation of essential Greek forms and syntax enabling the student to read competently classical texts as soon as possible.

*I have recently decided that if I do wind up going to grad school, I would like to study the Classics. It has been the only consistently good experience and has inspired me to write more than I did even when I met with a mentor. It has allowed me to really develop some versatility in what I write as well, lending quality to quantity. I figured that learning a little Greek couldn't hurt. I know the professor who teaches this class and I enjoyed him (he taught my Sappho class. He liked my poem and offered some really good advice, which I am definitely going to try when I revisit the poem over the summer.)

So, that's going to be my fall schedule. I'm feeling rather melancholy about being a senior after all these years toiling away at college. Melancholy isn't the best word, but it's the best I can think of at the moment.

Saturday marks my last day as a junior at Beloit. I will have moved out of my dorm and turned in my last papers (thereby ending the hell that was my spring semester).

The announcement part of this post

As I'm sure I've mentioned before, I hate contemporary flash fiction. I'm sorry, but if it can fit into a text message, it's not a damn story! A story should be at least 1000 words long (technically, a short story can be up to 10,000 words, but trying finding a publication that will publish a story that long). I'm sure there are creative people out there can write a story in 350-500 words, but less than that and I think most magazines and flash fiction writers are merely pandering to readers that have the attention span of a fruit fly. I'm not trying to rain on anybody's creativity parade, but I like my stories to have some meat (faux meat, since I'm a vegan). I repeat: if it can fit in a text message, IT'S NOT A STORY!

To illustrate my displeasure of this, I have compiled a list of 100 books (some classics and some contemporary, some well-known and some obscure) and am currently in the process of making them into "text" flash fiction/nonfiction (i.e. under 160 words, give or take). Sometime in the next two weeks I'll post them on the blog and you, my wonderful readers, can try to guess the correct title and author. I will wait a week before publishing all the responses just to give everyone a fair chance to make their guesses. Also, if you can't make a suggestion because you don't have an g-mail account or something along those lines, my e-mail address is in my profile. You can e-mail me your guesses and I'll post them with the answers.

I'm hoping that this will be a fun experience. There's no prize or anything, it's all for bragging rights. Aside from taking guesses, I will also be taking suggestions. If you want to contribute some "texted" novels, send me an e-mail. I'll compile the suggestions I get and the week after I post the answers to my quiz, I will write a post with the reader-created quiz (provided I get suggestions).

Imagine, all these wonderful books, condensed into tiny little phones

The horror. The horror.

Desired Independence

2011-04-22T17:42:00.000-07:00

Greetings my dear readers. I come to you from the very edge of sanity. After spending the past few days reading about domestic abuse in the 19th century (when it was fine and dandy to beat your wife, so long as you did so in moderation, i.e. didn't murder her), I needed a bit of a break to scrub my brain.

I have been thinking a lot lately about views of women and have been getting more and more aggravated by the same tropes that are endlessly rolled out for us. I could go on for days about the whole virgin/whore dichotomy (particularly in regards to the idea that if a woman has sex than she's a whore, but if she doesn't than she's a frigid bitch/cocktease). However, what has really been getting my goat lately is the idea of woman as mother.

Now don't get me wrong: I'm not anti-child or anything like that. I sympathize with mothers and if that's your choice, more power to you. I have friends that are mothers or that hope to be one day. There's nothing wrong with that.

What I don't like is this assumption that every woman on planet earth must procreate if she's to be considered a fulfilled human being. Pop culture is saturated with women of every religion, color, and sexual orientation giving birth and becoming mothers. It's as if we don't have a choice in the matter. We're here to have children, period. Anything else and we're obviously miserable or there's something wrong with us. A woman cannot be happy until she has a child (or 2, or 8, or 105 at the rate we're going). Apparently, asexual women simply don't exist in pop culture land. Nor do women that don't wish to have children.

Think about it for a minute: how many books/TV shows/movies can you name that have a female protagonist that doesn't have any desire to have children? I put forward that such a character doesn't exist, because there's always the underlying suggestion that she will one day change her mind (and therefore become a "normal" woman). Here's some of the ways this is accomplished:

-The character is pregnant in a dream
-The alternate reality version of the character has a child
-Another character has a kid, which awakens the "biological clock" in the first character
-The character writes herself as pregnant in a story
-The character becomes infected with an alien parasite that conveniently makes her appear to be 8-9 months pregnant (I'm a genre writer. I watch a lot of scifi/fantasy)
-The cop-out: she meets an orphaned child and adopts him/her

Whatever reassures the audience that this woman does indeed hope to one day fulfill her need to have a child.

Full disclosure: I am never going to have children and I have always felt that way. Even when the other girls would play Mommy with their dolls, I was always much more interested in animals and literature. I have never had anything even remotely resembling maternal instinct and I resent it when people tell me that "I'll feel different when I have one of my own." I respect their choice to have children, is it too much to expect a little reciprocity?

In my stories, there's a mix of women that have children and those that don't. The ones that don't very rarely express a desire to have children. I hope that this represents a more realistic portrayal of women: some of us want to be mothers and others do not. There's nothing wrong with that. One is not superior to the other. We just have different desires and wants.

In this Victorian Garbage class that I'm in, I feel like we idealize the Victorian Era. Or at least, we romanticize it. College-age women seem to enjoy the idea of fancy balls/dances and being courted. It bugs me because I also see this disturbing desire to be infantilized. Never mind that Victorian women had no birth control and were therefore almost constantly pregnant after getting married. Charles Dickens, the quintessential Victorian according to some, even left his wife because he couldn't understand why she was so pissy about being pregnant. Ten kids was nowhere near enough for old Charlie apparently.

I recognize that many women do want to have children. I support that (pro-choice is not all about abortion, contrary to popular belief). Still, I find incredibly irksome that it's 2011 and we still don't have any positive representations of women that choose to remain childless in our entertainment.

Helen Mirren: One of my personal heroines

A great actress who has openly admitted that she never felt the need to have children

*I realized that I spoke in a lot of absolutes in this post. As always, if I have overlooked a character, please don't be afraid to speak up and tell me so. Believe me, this is a topic that I would be happy to be proven wrong :)

Noir and Femme Fatales

2011-04-04T17:24:00.000-07:00

My stories are frequently a hodgepodge of different genres. I've never been able to settle on just one. Where's the fun in that? There is one genre that has never turned up in my tales and it has always bugged me because the genre is one of my favorites: noir.

Upon researching this post, I found that noir is a film genre not a literary one. The literary equivalent is the hardboiled crime fiction, which probably explains why it has never turned up. As I've mentioned in the past, I have little interest in the crime genre. Mystery I love, but the hardboiled crime type stories just have never really appealed to me. But I digress.

I love a good noir because I think this genre has given us some of the strongest heroines ever committed to celluloid and page. I'm talking of course of those intriguing femme fatales. Often the most compelling characters, they are independent, liberated, and smart. A good femme fatale is sexual without being exploited. Her strength rivals, and sometimes even surpasses, the hero's. She is a woman who knows her allure and uses this to her advantage.

Barbara Stanwyck in "Double Indemnity"

(Because I know some readers are fans, as am I)

There is some debate about whether or not the archetype of the femme fatale is truly empowering. It's often cited how close this type of character is tied to the misogynistic concept of the witch and the temptress. It's true that femme fatales are often unlikeable, but I think this is missing the point. In noir, every character is flawed. Some moreso than others. I believe that the femme fatale comes off as unlikeable in part because she breaks out of the traditional "nurturing mother" role that women are expected to inhabit. She lies, manipulates, and kills to get her way, or just stay alive in a patriarchal world. She is many things, but chaste is certainly not one of them. She is tough as nails and you don't want to get on her bad side.

The noir femme fatale reminds me very much of an updated version of the female Gothic, as exemplified in the works of writers like Charlotte Bronte. The female Gothic is from Gothic fiction but breaks the mold of the damsel in distress that pervaded most Gothic fiction produced by male authors of the time. Jane Eyre is a perfect example of the female Gothic. The story had all the elements of Gothic fiction, but Jane Eyre was most certainly not a damsel in distress. Whatever hardships she endured were solely due to the Victorian views of gender.

Most of my women characters have been modeled on the femme fatale archetype, in different degrees. While writing this post, I was thinking about my first novel and it struck me that one character in particular is like a noir woman straight out of the pre-code era. She's got a murky past and even murkier motives. She's on no one's side but her own and she frequently turns up in places where she's least expected. Sometimes even I don't know what's going on with her.

After reading countless articles about frail Victorian women and their rigid gender roles, I find myself craving a good old-fashioned femme fatale. Reading about the difference between a "fallen woman" versus a "prostitute" makes me want to take a shower. I'm looking forward to the day when I once again have some free time. Right now, I could really use a good dose of femme fatale.

Lauren Bacall, a.k.a. The Look

Another of my favorite femme fatales

*Had to take a break from my tedious research and wanted to update the old blog to let my dear readers that indeed, I am still here. My semester ends in early May. Hopefully after that I'll be able to update regularly once again. Until then, I'm afraid I'll have to be absent for a short while. Too many things due at once, none of which are particularly enjoyable. However, I'll resist ranting about academia for the moment. I've got to research a furry teacup.

On Joy

2011-03-19T18:26:00.000-07:00

I admit: I'm jaded and it's probably from life.

As I've mentioned before, I'm quite prone to ennui. This has improved a little since going away to college (too busy to be anything other than stressed the hell out). As the semester picks up steam and my assignments tower over me in a seemingly endless mountain, there are times when I can't help but despair. Those times when it seems like everyone is on track but you and you don't know why you can't handle your workload. There's no pretty way to phrase it: it sucks. I want to be doing what I like doing: writing. Not reading about horribly butchered prostitutes.

A couple weeks back, when I had time to breathe, I watched a movie that I had recorded the week before. It was called City Lights (1931) and it starred someone that I think everyone recognizes:

My first real exposure to one Mr. Chaplin was Limelight, which he made towards the end of his career. It ranks as one of the most depressing movies that I've ever seen. It was like Chaplin thought, "Eh, screw it. I'm miserable, I'll make the audience miserable too. Watch me die! HAHAHA!"

I had always wanted to see one of his silent films all the way through. I would see clips here or there, the regular scenes that seem to exist in pop culture consciousness. I was positively giddy when I saw this movie was airing. It was one of those rare occasions that the movie surpassed my expectations. Yet, being a psychoanalyst at heart, I had to dissect exactly why I enjoyed this movie so much. It didn't take me long to figure out why Chaplin films (the early silent ones at least) appeal to me.

One word: joy.

Chaplin's silent films contain this kind of beautiful and innocent joy that seemed to have died with the silent era of films. This is not to say "talkies" suck, not at all. They're just different. I love the simplicity of silent films. I love how they make me laugh with seemingly slapstick style. In City Lights, Chaplin is eating a huge strand of spaghetti and somehow manages to twirl a streamer around his fork with the pasta, which he promptly starts eating. The expression on his face made me laugh until tears were streaming down my face.

I love the way Chaplin uses his entire body for his gags. He doesn't rely on dialogue. City Lights is a silent film that was shot when talkies were just starting up and Chaplin fought fiercely against them. He hated talkies because felt they meant the end of cinema. Perhaps in a way they were, but that's another post for another day.

Reading all the depressing material that I've been saddled with for the end of this semester, often times my mind wanders back to the funny little man stumbling through a series of misadventures and risking jail, all for a blind woman that sells flowers who is mostly unaware of him.

Something about this purity is so appealing to me. I'm fascinated by how warm a simple film can make the viewer feel. Often times, when I'm writing, I find myself worrying that I'm getting too dark. Too depressing. Sometimes, I think women writers feel the need to try extra hard to be dramatic, just to be taken seriously as writers (perhaps that's why some of us feel the need to use male pen names). Still, I can always find a part in my stories that has hints of lightness: a look, an action, a place, even a character.

I want to be joyful and happy, perhaps even optimistic. Sometimes the world makes it so damn hard. But sometimes, the experience of one good afternoon is enough to forget the trials and tribulations of the past few months. Sometimes, we just need to take a break, smell the flowers, and feel the sun on our face.

If that fails, pop in an early Charlie Chaplin silent film and allow yourself to laugh

Announcement and Request

2011-03-18T07:42:00.000-07:00

A belated Happy St. Patrick's day to all my lovely readers. As you can see, I'm still here, alive and well. My semester is picking up steam and the professors are cramming in all last minute assignments and papers, meaning I have about one thousand due dates to meet between now and the first week of May. Needless to say, I'm exhausted in every way imaginable.

I come to my dear readers with some really good news and also a request that I hope someone out there can help me with. For as long as I can remember, I've been afflicted with wanderlust. I've always dreamed of seeing the continent of Europe and watched (with no small amount of envy) as so many people I knew got the chance that I had so longed for. A couple weeks ago, I was surprised with some rather unexpected news: as an early graduation gift, this July, I'll be going to Europe for a 35 day trip (technically a 33 day trip since I don't count the plane ride over as part of it). I'll see the following countries: Greece, Italy, France, Spain, Czech Republic, and Belgium. Words cannot describe my excitement about this and how eager I am. Why can't I be leaving tomorrow?

Now for my request. I apologize for using this blog for personal indulgence, but it's the only place that I could think of where I might possibly find someone who might be able to lend a hand.

To graduate from college, I need to complete an internship. I've already chosen freelance writing as my internship and am in the process of drawing up the necessary paperwork as well as writing the ten-page proposal. In order for this to count, I need to work with an editor. My adviser and I thought it might be a good idea if I could somehow incorporate this trip into my internship (keeping a travel diary and then using that to write a couple articles). I've been away from the publishing world for a good while now and so have very few contacts left. I was hoping that maybe one of my dear readers might help me out with this. Do you know anyone at a travel website/magazine or an editor interested in working with a fairly new writer? I really just need a contact, preferably before mid-April. Pay is not required for the internship.

If anyone out there can lend a hand, you would have my eternal gratitude and I swear I'd give you a special shout-out in my blog. Thank you.

Note: As I mentioned above, I am currently starting to wrap up this semester and so am rather busy for the next few weeks. So if I disappear for a while, have no fear. I shall be back eventually.

Also, I'm still deciding on whether or not to bring my laptop to Europe. Even if I do, it's probably unlikely that I'll have a chance to update my blog while I'm there. If anything, I'll be uploading my photos on Flickr. Again, don't worry if I suddenly stop updating. I'll always come back.

The Question of Muses

2011-03-04T07:59:00.000-08:00

I'm in a mythos state of mind this morning. Spring break has officially begun, my professors were too worn out to assign any heavy assignments, and so I have finally been left with some time to write. A little, but I'll take what I can get. I'm still tweaking what I've come to refer to as the "Me as Angry Sappho" poem, my final project for my burning Sapphos class. I received some really good advice that was incredibly helpful in punching up the poem, giving it a little extra umph. It helped me figure out how to put in a little more Sappho (and take out a little more pissed off me), which greatly improved the poem. And that just has me in the most wonderfully good mood.

This exercise got me to thinking about the "muse" figure in art. I'm assuming my wonderful readers know a little about art. It's a very male-dominated field, even in the visual arts. Perhaps this is why we only hear about the male artist and his female muse. It's been driving me nuts lately trying to find a reverse of this: was there ever a female artist (be she a painter, writer, sculptor, etc.) that had a male muse. I know I've heard of female artists also having female muses, although these are incredibly few and far between. Personally, I find inspiration from many of my close friends and acquaintances, be they men or women. I've even had professors that I thought of as muses, but that brings up another dilemma: can a muse be someone that you admire or just one that directly inspires something in whatever you're working on?

As far as I can tell, there are a few contemporary sources where women writers find inspiration:

1. Music: This is a given. How many of us crank up the music while we're working? I'm going to guess nearly every writer does. Scrolling through my incredibly odd and eclectic music list, most of the songs have female vocals. A lot of it is considered angry break-up music, which is odd considering my lack of interest in romantic attachments. My newest "find" is from my Sapphos class: Flower by Liz Phair (early Phair, not that poppy bullshit she does now). I don't know what it is about this song that tickles me. Perhaps it's the fact that we've all felt that: someone attractive goes by and the mind dives right into the gutter. Then of course, I've got a couple Sappho songs from the link I included in my last post.

2. Other Writers: I'll never forget the first time I read an article about Stieg Larsson. Feminists have really been ripping into him lately, but he's the first man that I've ever came across that openly (and even proudly) admitted to being inspired by women authors. I found that refreshing. Too often, it's the reverse. It is almost as if women need to shy away from their gender and say that they're inspired my their male counterparts. This is fine, but there's no shame in being inspired by women authors as well. We don't need to compensate for anything. If we're inspired by women, there's no shame in that. If we're inspired by men, also no shame. I think it's a matter of finding a balance between the two.

3. Artists: Behind me there are two shelves. The top shelf is full of books about mythology (an assortment of cultures and eras). The second shelf is full of more fantastical books, most of them illustrated. In front of me, there's a long shelf of books dealing with women artists in all mediums (with Francesca Woodman first and foremost). Many writers, particularly genre writers (in my experience), keep a supply of art books on hands. You never know when a picture is just going to leap out at you and slap you in the face with a story.

4. Interactions with Friends, Acquaintences, and Strangers: Again, the idea of a solitary writer is a complete and utter fabrication. We need people to craft believable dialogue and sculpt real characters. The imagination can only do so much. I was going to write more, but I seem to be running out of steam.

Which brings me back to the point of this blog: has there ever been a woman artist that had male muses?

I'm not trying to make this a gender issue. It's one of those things that has just been bugging me lately. After a recent jaunt through surrealism, I find myself coming up empty on this front. The women surrealists seem to draw inspiration more from what they read or saw. Male surrealists seem to be the ones who had muses in the form of the idealized woman. You find the same thing among the Pre-Raphaelites. The idea of the idealized woman is prominent in nearly all works of art, yet there is no counterpart to this. Certainly not one created by a woman. Is it perhaps because the muse is seen as a feminine role? A threat to masculinity? If this is the case, that's just depressing.

*A personal note: I'm sure all my dear readers are aware of the protests in Madison. It should come as no surprise that I remain firmly in solidarity with the teachers. My college has started a blog to keep people up to date on the goings on. I hope that you will help us, either by visiting the blog or signing a petition showing you stand with the Democrats that have gone into hiding (for lack of a better term).

Beloit College Solidarity

Thank you.

Sappho, Muse for Sensual Independent Women Artists

2011-02-25T08:29:00.000-08:00

The elusive and mysterious Sappho, perhaps the writer that women writers owe the most too, particularly those who choose to write erotica and express their sexuality (whatever it may be) openly. Yet how many of us have actually taken the time to read her fragments? Of those that have, how many have delved deeper into her words? Or did you just merely give them a glance over?

Sappho has been inspiring writers, men and women, since the time she roamed Ancient Greece. You think women have it hard nowadays? Try being a woman of Lesbos in Sappho's time. They weren't even allowed to leave the house. In fact, the only reason Sappho could write was because she was lucky enough to be born into an aristocratic family.

I've been surprised how much strength I've found in Sappho's writings. For the past couple months, I've been fighting doubts and insecurities, on my own mostly. I started writing with a mentor, a person that I trusted implicitly. Someone that I grew incredibly close to. Then we had a falling out and it shattered me. I made the mistake of staying in touch with this individual, even at the cost of my own self-respect. We've all made that mistake, holding onto a relationship (be it a friendship, mentoring relationship, or romantic attachment) much longer than we should. In my younger years, I made a hobby of it. Hello trust issues.

Sappho made the same mistake, and for me, that was incredibly comforting. She often fell in love with the wrong woman (she had a husband, but also a number of love affairs with younger women), quite frequently.

Contrary to popular belief, she didn't throw herself off a cliff

Perhaps due to her view of love, its evanescence, she has appealed to those spurned by love (whether platonic or sexual). She was quite popular among the Decadents, one in particular:

Charles Baudelaire

She also inspired the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry, Edna St. Vincent Millay.

Some other notable poets that have been inspired by Sappho:

Sylvia Plath

Christina Rosetti

Renee Vivien, from Wikipedia

This photo is more impressive when you consider when she lived (1877-1909)

During which time she was herself, out and proud, despite being stigmatized by society

Not to mention the countless poets from Ancient Greece and Rome, as well numerous feminists (especially lesbian feminists) who have found a kindred spirit in this poet from the Archaic era.

I have a new affection for this unique writer, having taken this course in the midst of what was probably my most trying semester yet. Not only was I struggling with my schoolwork, I was continually being told that I wasn't good enough by someone that I once looked up to. My creative output plummeted and I missed a number of deadlines for contests/magazines. My confidence was completely shot and then last week, I was slapped in the face. I'll be achieving a dream of mine to see Europe, the first time I've ever been out of the country. I'm nervous as hell and when I looked for support, all I could find was silence or worse, doubt. If the people I cared about had no faith in me, how could I be expected to?

I eventually found a lone voice of encouragement. A person that I truly admire and always has a kind word for me, even when I'm at my lowest (you know who you are, and I can't thank you enough). Despite this merciful kindness, I still found myself unable to write. I think I've mentioned before that depression/sadness wreaks havoc with my writing. When I'm in these low, low states, I find it helpful to explore women that have broken boundaries that seemed to be made of stone. Oddly, I found myself going through pre-code movie actresses. Normally I lean towards writers, but I think the ancient sensual poetry has steered me toward those bawdy actresses that oozed confidence and sex with each sashay of their hips. It's remarkable how many of these actresses are channeling the divine Sappho, likely without even realizing it.

Marlene Dietrich: The film Sappho

Last night, I was up until about two in the morning, pouring out all my energy into channeling Sappho. For my final project in my Burning Sapphos class, I've chosen to take the creative option and write a lengthy lyric poem (gulp). I'm not a poet (is there an opposite of a poet? If there is, that's definitely what I am). Strangely enough, an exercise that I normally find torturous was actually enjoyable. More than enjoyable, it was really, really fun. Who knew there were so many creative ways to say "fuck you"? It was cathartic and served to remind me of the strength that lies in the heart of every woman out there. Whether you're a critic, a poet, a novelist, a short story writer, or a journalist, we're made of some incredibly tough stuff. At the risk of sounding trite, we take a lickin and keep on tickin. (I just realized how very, very dirty that sounded. Oh well).

If you haven't already, I ask you to get a copy of Anne Carson's translations of Sappho fragments. It's entitled If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho. Due to the fragmentary nature of the work, it's easily read in a sitting. After that, pick up or check out a copy of Games of Venus: An Anthology of Greek and Roman Erotic Verse from Sappho to Ovid by Peter Bing and Rip Cohen. You will be amazed how much influence one woman had on so many of her contemporaries. It's inspiring.

I think that's one of the many the gifts of Sappho. She shows us that we're all sensual creatures. There's no shame in embracing our desire, no matter what our gender. For women, she shows that we are capable of anything we put our minds to. We are not to be owned or possessed. We belong to no one. We do not exist to be controlled. We are just as capable of writing as men, perhaps even more so.

Let's follow her example. Let's write until we can't be ignored. Refuse to be marginalized. Go from the one desired to the one who desires (from Jessica Benjamin's theory).

*Sappho's verse was meant to be listened to (she'd perform it with a lyre at celebrations). Here's a link to a Classics professor performing two of Sappho's song. I recommend "Phainetai Moi", which is sung in Sappho's dialect (or at least close to it):

Sappho Songs

*My own channeling of Sappho is still rather rough and badly in need of an edit, but I might eventually post snippets of it on my blog (maybe, depending on how skittish I feel about it. I don't like posting work on the blog due to my nagging fear of plagiarism...and trolls).

The Blog-Hop: Writers Connect

2011-02-18T09:03:00.000-08:00

I had a professor, who I'm now honored to call a dear friend of mine, who always encourages his students to step out of their comfort zone. How else are you going to experience life? Being a misanthrope/curmudgeon/stone-cold cynic, I find this to be a rather difficult philosophy to get a handle on. I'm set in my ways and my ways include isolation. I like to be alone. Unfortunately, as I've written before, this is impossible for a writer. True, we don't need to interact as much as other more traditional jobs, but that doesn't mean we can live a hermit's life.

While going through my e-mails, I noticed one from one of my social networks (She Writes). The creator of one of the groups I belong to, Meg Waite Clayton, has begun what she terms a blog hop. The details of what that is can be found here: She Writes B&W Blogger Ball

At first, I balked at the idea. First of all, I've had a couple bad experiences with bloggers trying to use my blog as a billboard for their own work (I moderate comments and this will not be tolerated. Period.). Secondly, invite strangers to my blog? So they can tear it to pieces? Not high on my list of priorities. Besides, I doubt anyone taking part likes genre work much less writes it. I know, I know, I can be a bit of a pessimist. My dear readers have probably already noticed this about me.

Then I started to think about it a little more. I'm always encouraging writers to reach out to other writers and try to get rid of the nastiness of the industry. More camaraderie and less dog-eat-dog. We all want the same thing. Some of us will be lucky enough to achieve it, others won't be. That doesn't mean we shouldn't still try to help each other out.

So, I took that first step. I signed up. I encourage other writers out there to do the same. Welcome to any new readers/followers/commenters. Glad to have you on board and here's hoping we all have a good time.

Insecurities and Medusas

2011-02-06T18:27:00.000-08:00

I've taken a break from Mount Everest, i.e. my homework, to look at a blue paper that was given out in Victorian Garbage on Thursday. There are a couple of writing contests going on at my college and I've been flip-flopping for the past few days about whether or not to enter any of them. It has brought up a number of fears and doubts that plague almost all serious writers, and dare I say, especially women writers.

I recently re-read a part of Helene Cixous's wonderful essay Laugh of the Medusa. She encourages women, in a very post-modern way, to write and express the world as they experience it. In one remarkably insightful paragraph, she nails the doubt felt by most women writers:

"And why don't you write? Write! Writing is for you, you are for you; your body is yours, take it. I know why you haven't written. (And why I didn't write before the age of twety-seven.) Because writing is at once too high, too great for you, it's reserved for the great --that is for 'great men'; and it's 'silly'. Besides, you've written a little, but in secret. And it wasn't good, because it was in secret, and because you punished yourself for writing, because you didn't go all the way, or because you wrote, irresistibly, as when we would masturbate in secret, not to go further, but to attenuate the tension a bit, just enough to take the edge off. And then as soon as we come, we go and make ourselves feel guilty --so as to be forgiven; or to forget, to bury it until the next time...."

(Laugh of the Medusa Excerpt)

The first time I read that, I actually found myself nodding. It's a fifteen page essay, one I highly recommend reading, but that paragraph stuck out in my mind. Women in particular seem to struggle with this feeling of shame and modesty, as if we're doing something wrong by writing or by writing the "wrong thing". Cixous talks about inventing another way of communicating, another language, in order to reach a new understanding. That's the goal of post-modernism, as far as I understand it.

I rarely bring up my writing to friends and family anymore because it's so hard to explain just why I become so scared to submit things. It's difficult to communicate how intensely personal writing is. A writer often would like recognition and at the same time is terrified of it. Fears and doubts plague us and we find ourselves asking if we're any good.

When I think about these college writing contests, I shudder. There are a number of things that make me hesitate, including:

1. Genre work: I'm a genre writer. I'm assuming the "serious" college writers fancy themselves literary writers (whether they are or not is really anybody's guess. Personally, I've yet to find one actual literary writer in this place). Most of them are sell-outs, writing what they know professors will like, but perhaps this is the point of these contests. I can't submit a fantasy-labeled story to a place that's looking for "serious" stuff.

2. My age: I'm not old-old, but I do have a good number of years on the other students. Most of them are in their late teens/early twenties. I just crossed over into my late twenties back in September. This may sound trivial, but if this is a contest for a different age group...that could be mortifying.

3. Irrational Fears: Whenever I think about these contests, I suddenly get scared that the judges will laugh at me. Somehow I'll be "caught" and everyone will know what I write, how I write. I realize how absolutely ridiculous this sounds, as I frequently identify myself as a writer. However, as most writers can attest, it's "safe" to say you're a writer if no one knows what you write. Identifying yourself as a writer is simple, it's who you are. Showing what you write, that's practically the equivalent of being naked in front of a stranger.

Perhaps I'm overreacting and just need to "toughen" up, find my own inner-Medusa. I can practically hear my friends shouting at me to "suck it up and enter the contest already", but still I hesitate. It takes years to get over these kinds of insecurities and even then, I don't think writers ever truly lose them. Rather, they teach themselves to work around them.

Helene Cixous

First discovered her work through my good friend, Robyn (thank you!)

Burned Out

2011-02-02T16:56:00.000-08:00

How I hate days like this. Days when the feeling of being overwhelmed is so powerful that you can do little more than lie in bed. I have a laundry list of things to do and I'm afraid I made it a little too long because my brain just completely shut down. One look at that list and my mind was like, "Mm, no."

I've got a thousand and one things due this week, most of it schoolwork due tomorrow, and I have absolutely no energy to tackle it. This is torture for a perfectionist like me. I have to do that work, I have to complete everything, and my body just won't cooperate at all. It's positively maddening.

My dear readers will excuse this minor indulgence. I thought maybe turning to my blog would get me out of this rut that I'm currently trapped in. Sometimes it helps if I can recall what I've accomplished in the week and this week, I've certainly achieved a lot of victories (which was great after my awful start this semester):

*I was able to prove to my university that freelance writing is indeed an actual job and now I just have to draft a proposal for how my current freelancing will count as my internship credit. I fought hard, didn't back down, and wound up winning.

(this was a major win for me. I've spent so much time fighting to prove to those around me that what I do is a job. Fellow writers can probably sympathize with this plight. We work as hard as the next person, day in and day out, yet we're still looked down on and told to "get a real job". When I graduate, I'll have an official credit on my transcript: freelance writer)

*Despite my rocky beginning, I've managed to keep up with a significantly heavier course load. I flubbed something here or there, but for the most part, I've been able to stick to my track.

*For the most part, I've managed to maintain a realistically positive (as positive as I get, that is) outlook on things. Newer readers, believe me, that is huge for me.

*My dog is healthy as a horse, as are my other two pets. That had me fretting last week.

That's all my brain is willing to give me at the moment. There was a blizzard last night. Even though it looks like similar to this outside:

My university has decided that we can still tunnel through the banks of snow. Frigid temperatures bring out the bitterness in me. It's also my least productive, creatively, time of year. From late November until mid-April/early May, my productivity reaches all-time lows.

Oh what's a writer to do? There's so much that needs to be finished and I can't find the energy to do it. That's another thing I'm still trying to learn: how to conquer the feeling of being completely burned out. Any writers and/or readers that have accomplished this, advice would be much appreciated.

I promise, my next posting will have more substance. I just wanted to let my dear readers know that I'm in fact still alive and still here.

"Updating" Historical Periods

2011-01-25T16:00:00.000-08:00

I'll admit that most of what I reference in this post I haven't watched religiously or read. It's merely a trend that I've noticed, which has started to leak into literature.

Lately I've noticed a sudden resurgence of period "dramas", myths, and fairytales. It seems like not a week goes by without there being a commercial for some new show or movie that takes place in the Ancient World or Tudor times (although the latter has been slowly dying out, replaced by Arthurian legend). I will admit that Arthurian legend adaptations are a guilty pleasure of mine. No matter how bad they are, I always seem willing to watch yet another adaptation.

While this sudden interest in myths and Classical periods may seem like a blessing for the literary types, the opposite is true. This is often because the creators choose to focus solely on sex. While I find the sexual practices quite interesting, focusing solely on the sexual ignores the other parts of the stories and time periods. The parts that are often just as fascinating as sexual intrigues.

The Tudors is a perfect example of this, and likely where this sudden resurgence started. The series was solely created so that women could drool over Jonathan Rhys Meyers. There was little to no historical accuracy. It was solely Meyers boning practically everything with breasts with the occasional session of old fashioned medieval torture thrown in. Henry VIII was a fascinating historical character and the women of his time were also interesting. There was plenty of story there without the need to turn it into a porno. The Other Boelyn Girl made a similar stumble, turning the time of the Tudors into little more than an extended cat fight.

Around the same time as the interest in Henry VIII went up, so did the interest in a much older myth: Beuwulf. Poor Beuwulf has seen more than his fair share of god awful adaptations. The worst was the animated version that should have just been called "Watch Angelina Jolie Strut Around Naked". The entire point of the movie was to turn Grendel's Mother into masturbation fodder.

The current trend is gladiators and Arthurian legend. It's the same ad every time: "The real story behind all the legend" followed by shots of bare-chested gladiators glistening with some battle scenes thrown in for good measure. Apparently they had showers back then...and everyone looked as though they walked out of a fashion magazine, go figure.

I'm not frigid nor prudish. I don't mind scenes of healthy sexuality. My problem is that in the majority of these historical series, women are portrayed as little more than sex toys. Granted, women didn't have as many rights back then as they do now. Still, it strikes me as a rather convenient excuse to objectify women more than they already are in popular culture. For example, in Spartacus, everything written on the new series has been about an upcoming sexual liaison between two women. While lesbian sex did occur back then, this strikes me as a way to pander to the already predominantly male audience.

On the same network, there's an upcoming series based on Arthurian legend: Camelot. It promises to be the most realistic adaptation to date, but I remain skeptical. Even though it stars one of my favorite actresses of all time, Eva Green, the description of the relationship between her Morgan Le Fay and Merlin strikes me as the obligatory "two characters getting it on that you wouldn't expect to do so". Le Fay is almost always portrayed as such a one-dimensional character: the evil bitch that brought down Camelot, usually because she had sex.

Women's sexuality is very rarely ever portrayed accurately, as my dear readers probably are aware. Aside from the virgin/whore dichotomy, because we live in a culture that is dominated by the male gaze, sex is often portrayed as some terrifying thing. The bad woman is the sexually active one. The good one is almost always both virginal and childish (sometimes disturbingly so, as is often the case in fairytale adaptations like Red Riding Hood).

This is one of those musings that depresses the hell out of me because I don't know what the answer is. On the one hand, I don't like the idea of becoming even more uptight about sex. That's just unhealthy. Then again, I'm really sick of these shows that seem to exist solely to romanticize the objectification of women. I'm all for more interest in history and would love to see even more adaptations, more accurate ones. History is fascinating on its own, without being made into a glorified porno.

Cate Blanchett as Elizabeth I

One of those rare adaptations that didn't feel the need to include heaving bosoms

*Being inclined towards psychoanalysis, I feel I should offer a caveat here: I've found most fairytale adaptations to be fascinating due to the strong sexual undercurrent found in the original stories. "The Company of Wolves" is a brilliant movie directed by Neil Jordan that is ripe with Freudian undertones.

Character Interpretations and Introspective Musings

2011-01-16T17:16:00.000-08:00

For the past week or so, I've been attempting to write a mystery story. No particular reason, I just wanted to try my hand at the genre. It's much more difficult than I expected and I'm sorry to say that it is probably going to be an exercise in futility. Being insanely stubborn, I have a difficult time accepting failure (probably why I'm attempting to make a living as a novelist). I did what I normally do when in a situation like this: I turned to research. Through this, I reacquainted myself with one of my all-time favorite characters.

The first fictional character I ever fell in love with, head over heels, was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's dashing consulting detective, the one and only Sherlock Holmes. He was the very first character that I encountered who used intellect and actually did things. None of this cliche Prince Charming bullshit. Holmes was solving cases and he was positively brilliant.

Oddly enough, this is one of the few characters that I first encountered through television rather than in his original stories. As a result, when I did eventually read the books and stories, and even now as I reread them, I have a very clear picture of Holmes. In my mind, he'll always look like Ronald Howard. Howard played Holmes in the 1954 television series. I'll return to this later.

I'm fascinated by how characters transition to the screen. Most writers and readers see this as sacrilege, but I can't help but be intrigued by how actors interpret characters and how it effects the perceptions of readers. Some sources suggest that Holmes is the most portrayed movie character. What's amazing about this is that no two actors have ever played him in the same way. Some choose to go darker, some highlight his athleticism, and others focus on how he's inevitably the smartest guy in the room.

To me, there are four flawless interpretations of Holmes. Obviously, I haven't seen every single Holmes movie there is. For one thing, many of them are out of print. Others, like the Christopher Lee one, I just haven't gotten around to. So don't bite my head off if you're a purist. Also, I don't rank my favorite Holmes and these are in no particular order. They each have their own strengths and very few weaknesses.

Basil Rathbone

Basil Rathbone is my father's idea of Sherlock Holmes. Rathbone's debonair physique and deep voice were definitely Holmesian. He was really tall and lanky, a perfect embodiment of Holmes. He captured Holmes's humor and sly wit. Even when the movies strayed into propaganda during the second world war, Rathbone was still distinctly Holmsian. I even liked when they updated Holmes, taking him out of the Victorian era and into the 50s. It brought a real noir sensibility to the Holmes mythos.

The only place where this series of movies stumbled was when it came to the portrayal of Watson. Nigel Bruce was lovable as Holmes's loyal sidekick but he was a complete and utter moron. You often find yourself wondering just how exactly this guy became a doctor.

Jeremy Brett

To many, this is the ultimate Holmes interpretation. Having just discovered the Granada series, I can definitely understand why this is. The stories are as close to canon as a series has ever gotten and rarely strayed from what Doyle had written. Brett is electric as Holmes, bringing out his troubled psyche and occasionally neurotic side but he also brings out his playful and even impish nature. He's mischievous, intelligent, and never strays from a fight (which is often hilarious. Victorian fighting is comedy gold). Brett brings a kind of flamboyance and theatricality to Holmes while also showing his sophistication and intelligence. Brett also brings a kind of warmth to the role. The mystery, the puzzle, is still the most important aspect of his work, but you definitely catch glimpses of Holmes's humanism. Usually through his interactions with Watson. Two actors played Watson during this series and both were brilliant, sticking close to the canonical Watson and thereby bringing out Holmes's humanity.

The only difficult thing about this series is watching the gradual deterioration of Jeremy Brett. Towards the end of the series, Brett was experiencing a number of health issues and it becomes very noticeable as the series goes on. He starts to slow down and loses the sharpness of his facial features that made him a dead-ringer for Holmes. Brett unfortunately passed away before the series concluded, but it was rumored that he had already decided not to do the final series due to his health.

Ronald Howard

My very first Holmes and in my opinion, still the perfect embodiment of the character. Howard looked exactly like Holmes with the exception of maybe having lighter-colored hair. He had this wonderful twinkle in his eye that I always pictured Holmes having. Howard was a very boyish Holmes and an incredibly moral one. He was curious about everything and didn't seem to understand why no one around him was too. He also didn't seem to get why no one understood the things he did. A perfect example of this was when he shot a "V" in the wall: he didn't understand why it infuriated Watson. Almost none of the episodes had anything to do with canon, other than the names of the characters. Perhaps this is why the series is so unknown. To me, though, Howard will always be the first person I picture when reading Holmes.

The man who played Watson, Howard Marion-Crawford, was a fairly good sidekick. He was the perfect embodiment of the frustrated Watson, the one that has to remind Holmes that it's illegal to break into a house (but does it anyway).

Benedict Cumberbatch

Cumberbatch is a spectacular Holmes. He is intense, an updated modern Holmes. The British series, Sherlock, was created by Steven Moffatt and Mark Gatiss (who also plays Holmes's brother, Mycroft). Moffatt and Gatiss are pretty much unashamed Holmes scholars. So while their stories aren't canon, they are updated versions of the original Doyle stories. Cumberbatch is in the vein of House: a self-proclaimed high-functioning sociopath who cares only for the mystery. He's sharp, frighteningly intelligent, and physical. Aside from having the perfect build, Cumberbatch also has a unique look that lends an exoticism to Holmes, something that no other actor has really captured before. This series has captured all the characters from the stories so perfectly, I really can't say enough good things.

Martin Freeman is also possibly the most accurate Watson to date. He is a complex man, the everyman, who is very sharp (not as much as Sherlock, but still remarkably intelligent). His loyalty is unwavering, which is often apparent in his acts of bravery. His compassion humanizes Holmes while also showing a contrast between the two characters. Watson is also suffering from mild PTSD, an incredibly important topic that is often overlooked in popular culture. This series also highlights the most important part of the Sherlock Holmes canon: the two characters need each other. They are both flawed in different ways and through each other, they become more rounded.

Note: I think Robert Downey Jr. has an interesting take on the character and brings a kind of physicality to the role, but Guy Ritchie is a complete moron. I find it hard to believe that he can even read. This is a sad case of perfect casting but poor scripting. Another actor that fell victim to this was Richard Roxborough (and his Watson, whose name escapes me at the moment). Good actor, but he was working with what seemed like an after school special script.

****

I wrote this post over two days. In those two days, I've been reflecting about why I'm so drawn to Holmes (I get introspective when I'm feeling blue). Why are we drawn to certain characters? It's because we identify them, obviously. But why? Also, why is it easier to identify with another writer's creation than with our own?

The latter question is rather rhetorical, but I assume it has something to do with the things nearest to us are harder to identify with because it's hard to be truthful with ourselves. This is why interpreting our own dreams is next to impossible.

As for my original question, why I'm drawn to Holmes in particular. I think it's because like Holmes, I often feel like the one no one can understand. I've mentioned before how I tend to make a poor first impression and frequently come off as strange or peculiar. The world frequently baffles me and I don't understand why people act the way they do. I've never lost my curiosity, which is what drives me. I have to get to the bottom of every problem, find an answer to every question, no matter what. I have to complete what I set out to do, anything less is unacceptable. Like Holmes, when I lack any kind of outlet for my creative energies, I tend to fall into the darkest of depression spells (however, unlike Holmes, I don't use narcotics to cure my boredom).

The thing I find most fascinating about the character, something that I think I have in common with him, is the isolation that seems to envelope him. Holmes seems to have this need to isolate himself, whether physically or emotionally. There are times when even Watson has no idea what his good friend is thinking. Holmes has foregone most human attachment. He never becomes involved in any relationship, having married himself to the job. I've mentioned in another post how eerily similar this is to my own feelings. Only, being a woman, this is not as acceptable. It's one of those lovely sexist double-standards that will always be around. But that's another post for another time.

Like I mentioned, I'm back at college so I'm struggling with writer's block at the moment. Expect plenty of lists in the coming posts, which will probably be rather sporadic for a while.

The Dickens Dilemma

2011-01-08T17:59:00.000-08:00

For the past couple of weeks, I've been struggling through sickness (awful flu followed by a 48 hour bout of insomnia) while also trying to get through one of the dullest novels I've ever had the misfortune of picking up. It's for my upcoming Victorian Garbage class: Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens. To give you, my dear reader, an idea of just how unbelievably dull this novel is: I fell asleep four times just trying to get through the first two chapters. I wound up downloading the audio book and even the narrator sounds bored to tears. It's sad, because you can tell the guy is honestly trying to give it his all (creating a different voice for each character), but the source material is just plain awful.

This brought up a whole bunch of insecurities for me. As a serious novelist, I felt that I should simply adore the works of Dickens. I've enjoyed some of his work: A Tale of Two Cities and A Christmas Carol. However, the longer novels are just plain boring. Absolutely nothing happens. Women fret over being unattached, men fret over money and they both come off as whiny shallow peabrains. Also, Dickens has this annoying habit of overpopulating his books with seemingly endless streams of characters. Thankfully, you can usually distinguish one from the other. Worst of all, there's no imagination, no passion, in any of his words. I'm not expecting wild flights of fantasy, mind you, but I do expect to be able to sympathize with at least one character. Especially if I'm going to have to get through seven hundred plus pages.

What a dick

Sorry, couldn't help myself

This has really been eating at me, because while I can see why we're reading this particular novel, I don't see the point. Someone told me that Dickens was meticulous, which is why he is often found in curriculum. True, he is meticulous and he does capture the setting of Victorian England, but there are other writers that did a much better job of doing so. Personally, I think the women writers of the time offer a better and indeed more accurate picture of Victorian times. The Brontes and George Eliot had many of the same characteristics of a Dickens novel, only they actually wrote interesting stories with interesting characters.

This stupid novel, which I could rant about for pages, has no redeeming features. I have a little more than a hundred pages left to read and I have yet to find one character that I give a damn about. I have a feeling that most of the class discussion is going to revolve around two things in particular: corpse robbing and dust. These seem to be the recurring themes throughout this book. It certainly reiterates the dirtiness of the era, which is what the course is about. Or maybe it'll more be about class, which is another motif found throughout most Victorian literature.

Another thing that's really irritating me about this "Dickens is the embodiment of all that was Victorian" mindset is that it scares people away from what was a truly fascinating era. The sheer amount of sexual repression and classism influenced so much of the modern world today. Freud is still the base of many psychological theory, even the ones that discredit is more wacky ideas. So much modern literature, actual literature, has roots in the Victorian Era. There is nothing boring about the Victorian Era...except for freaking Dickens.

I don't hate Dickens though. I just prefer the BBC adaptations of his work. For some reason, Dickens is one of those writers that translates really, really well to the screen. I've found that if I loathe a Dickens novel, the BBC will somehow make a really great movie out of it. I often find myself thinking, "Oh. So that's what he was trying to do" while watching one of these adaptations. Austin is another writer like this. I find much of her work ridiculously girly, for lack of a better word. Most of her characters just walk about despondently, pining over some asshole that really has a heart of gold. She's nowhere near as bad as Dickens, but I prefer the Brontes.

I'll finish the audio book (35 hours spread out over five different parts, it's torturous) tomorrow. Unfortunately, this does nothing to increase my appreciation for Dickens. It has taught me something though. Just because I dislike one author considered to be a classic doesn't make me any less intelligent or any less of a novelist. We all like different classic stories, poems, and essays.

For those with an interest in the Victorian Era and would like to explore further, I recommend the following website to start: The Victorian Web

**I've just been informed by my good friend, Robyn (from the "A Student of English" blog) that I made a tiny mistake in this post. Jane Austin is considered part of the Romantic Era. According to her "since Victorian begins with [Victoria's] reign in 1838, literature from the early nineteenth century is not Victorian. If it is British, it is usually classified as Romantic. (Austen and Wordsworth are Romantic, for instance)". Mea culpa and thanks to my friend Robyn for clearing that up.

Imagination and Creativity

2010-12-31T16:26:00.000-08:00

Words can't describe the pleasure that creating brings to the artist. When I'm writing, it feels like every nerve in my body is alive. Electricity races up and down my body. With it comes the sensation of being alive. Words pour from my mind into my fingertips, a process that fascinates me to this day even though I've been doing it for years. This sensation doesn't solely reside in working at the laptop though.

Some days find me lying on my back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, seemingly at nothing. To the untrained eye. In fact, I'm staring through time and space, looking through a window into different worlds. I'm watching an assortment of characters, some of my own creation and others from the minds of other artists. Other times I'm on my own in destinations that I can only dream about, living different lives, inhabiting different spaces to visit in future stories. It's an activity that I've developed throughout the years, a way to escape into my own mind. It's a marvelous way to pass the time.

In my classical mythology course, my professor commented on one goddess (Gaia, I believe) being incredibly productive. The description makes me smile. The goddess being discussed was constantly creating new terrains, new forms, new creatures. She was the ultimate mother. While I can't relate to that literally, I do identify with being incredibly productive. I'm constantly creating new stories and new characters. Sometimes it feels like my mind is miles ahead of me, especially those blasted times when I don't have a pen or pencil handy. Or when I'm in the middle of an assignment...or a test (once, that was once).

There is a fear that haunts people who feel the need to constantly create: stagnation. I fear boredom more than most other things. The idle mind is a truly horrific notion and forcing my mind to do busywork is torture (which is one of the many reasons I don't really like the college atmosphere). I constantly worry about getting stuck and retreading tired cliches. It's one of the reasons that many of the people in my life come from a wide assortment of backgrounds and experiences. They help color the world that I imagine.

Perhaps my vivid imagination comes from my cultural heritage. I have a little Cherokee blood, which I think is where the storyteller in me comes from. It's really the only connection I have to my Native American ancestry.

I've gotten used to being alone with my thoughts to the point where it's comfortable. It's only when I'm alone that I can allow my mind to wander to these amazing worlds, to freely create without judgment. Editing, publishing concerns, and criticism can come later when the story is down on paper. Even then, I'm never able to perfectly recreate what I envisioned. This is common among writers in particular. Even the most brilliantly creative among us is unable to achieve this feat. Such is one of the tragedies of artistic expression.

Artists never stop creating, we can't. It's like breathing. The world is an absolutely amazing place, holding so many amazing little details and colors and stories, we simply must share it. It's when we're working that we feel most alive. An artist never creates out of a desire for wealth or fame and fortune. They create because it is a natural drive and desire. This is why real artists have such contempt for hacks like Meyer and Brown, why fans of those two writers are so incredibly ignorant about what writing actually is.

There is a beauty and power in words, a freedom that comes from crafting a good story or poem. The same is true for good nonfiction as well as the other forms of art: painting, dancing, sculpting, music, etc. We're passionate about our craft and that passion bleeds into whatever we create, whether or not we share it with an audience. Art has the power to elicit emotion within the viewer and offer a window into the soul of the artist. It has the power to transport you to a different place for a short period of time. It enriches life. I would never want to live without art. Could you imagine how incredibly dull that would be?

I realize that I'm getting a little off topic, but it breaks my heart to think that the imagination has become an endangered species of sorts. So many writers sell out to make money or people get into it for purely selfish, and completely mistaken, reasons: fame, fortune, celebrity, etc. It's more important to sell the face of the writer than the work itself. Whatever happened to the playful authors? The creative writer with a mischievous glint in his or her eye, a natural character instead of one created for the press? What happened to playing with your reader with stories? When did people start fearing their own minds? Do kids even play anymore? I swear that I saw a four year old with an iPhone not that long ago. What the hell is that?

I hope the new year brings some good fortune to all the starving artists out there. My brothers and sisters in arms (or pens, paintbrushes, ballet shoes, insert art instrument of choice here). Keep using your imagination and creating those beautiful and unique windows into other worlds, metaphorically speaking.

This coming year, my dear readers, make this a resolution: bring more art into your life. Take your families and/or friends on the journey with you. Expose them to the things that bring you joy, the things that enhance the beauty of our world. Go to an art museum. See a dance performance, both ballet and modern. Read a collection of poetry, a novel, and some good nonfiction. Read something that you wouldn't normally, like myths or philosophy. See a concert, both classical and modern. Reconnect with the artists of times past: starting in the ancient world and traveling forward in time. Start a blog to bring more people into this world and work to expand others horizons. Show them that art isn't some dull elective that they had to take for credit. Expose them to the passion that drives artists. Find someway to help the other struggling artists out there, both those in your field of choice and outside it.

Above all, keep creating. Find time to let your imagination wander and always try new things (either in approach, form, or otherwise), but keep creating.

Best luck in the coming new year, my fellow artists.

Hopefully the muses will continue to inspire in the coming year

I just want to take a moment to thank all my readers and followers for remaining with me. I realize that these posts sometimes have errors and can sometimes stray into a stream-of-consciousness style. The fact that you care enough to keep up with my little blog is a wonderful feeling and I thank you for that. I do hope the coming new year brings me some more luck, publishing wise as far as fiction goes. No matter what happens, rest assured, I will continue to regularly update this blog and I do hope you continue to follow it.

A Gift for My Fellow Writers

2010-12-25T14:59:00.000-08:00

If you're a writer that submits a lot of work, and really who doesn't, chances are you know about proper formatting. It's a necessary evil that every writer has to deal with. Still, I hear horror stories about writers just sending in a plain old word document. That pisses off editors to no end. Thankfully, there are actual guidelines that are conveniently located on one incredibly helpful website:

William Shunn's Guide to Style

Now that takes you to the short story direction, but if you notice on the menu bar just above it, there are directions for formatting poetry and novel excerpts. I'd say about 90% of magazines and webzines follow this format, so I highly recommend downloading the PDFs of them and keeping them on your computer. Yes, I know it's dull as dirt and about as interesting as watching paint dry, but writing is a job like any other. You take the good parts with the bad ones.

*I had another post up, but it was very poorly written and came off rather clunky. Christmas is not my favorite time of year and it saps any kind of creative energy out of me. Plus I've got all this formatting to do. So forgive the incredibly short post, but trust me, it's better than my bellyaching about how much of a Scrooge I am. I hope my next post is longer first of all and much more interesting. I just figured it would be nice to give all my fellow writers a little present to help expand your writing toolbox.

Saturnalia

The Roman holiday that somehow became Christmas

*One last thing: you'll notice there's a new badge on my blog. It's for R.A.I.N.N., an organization that I've become aware of in the last couple months. My family does a grab-bag for Christmas and I always look for charities that need donations (the badges on my blog are a couple of my favorites). My wonderful cousin, Andrew, made a donation in my name to R.A.I.N.N., which is a really great Christmas gift.

This is a wonderful organization and I highly recommend visiting their site. I feel that this issue is often disregarded and that scares me. Our society still has this tendency to see rape victims as the instigators (focusing on what the victim was wearing or where they were at the time of their assault). I've commented before on how blaming the victim is a reprehensible way of thinking. Rape and sexual assault are very real problems.

I implore you, please, visit the site and read the statistics and facts about rape and sexual assault. If you've ever been the victim of an assault, or think you may have been, there are links to where you can get help and a hotline you can call. If you want to learn about how you can help, there are plenty of suggestions on the site, most of them will only cost you a little time.

Rape is a serious crime and victims should not be made to feel as though they did something to warrant such a violation.

Writing Quandary: What is Exploitation?

2010-12-21T16:09:00.000-08:00

Two posts in one day? How very odd.

I had an interesting exchange with someone a few minutes ago. I had recommended Black Swan and he was grateful for the recommendation because it looked as though it could go either way: exploitative or great. An hour or so earlier, I had stumbled across a new magazine that was looking for stories having to do with sexual repression and I hadn't a clue what to make of it. Both experiences got me to thinking about something that has been troubling me practically since I started writing: what exactly qualifies as exploitative?

Like any good feminist, I fully believe in a person's right to explore their sexuality and find what gives them pleasure (so long as it doesn't hurt anyone else). As a writer, though, I frequently struggle when writing any kind of erotic scene. Since I deal with characters that are mostly bisexual, it gets even more difficult to separate what is exploitative and what is not. Full disclosure: I frequently get so frustrated that I just give up and as a result, there are very few romantic scenes in my writing.

It's difficult to navigate popular culture when it comes to sexuality. We have a hang up about sex and it results in two extremes: frigidity or nymphomania. Sex is either portrayed as pornographic, overly casual, or else something to be positively terrified of. So how does one go about finding the middle ground, a realistic portrayal of sex? How can you write a love scene that isn't exploitative or cloaked (meaning one of those scenes where the two go into the bedroom and suddenly it's the next day)?

Psychoanalytic feminists frequently point to the fact that it's difficult to find any example of feminine desire that is free of patriarchy. Women are always the object of desire, so much so that it's hard to find a single example in which they're the subject of desire (in other words, they're rarely portrayed as the one who desires).

So, dear readers, what do you think? What is/qualifies as exploitation? How does one write of sexuality and desire without straying into this territory? How can we portray feminine desire without adding to the rampant sexism out there?

Any advice/thoughts would be much appreciated. Let's get a productive dialogue going.

For the record: not an exploitative movie

Curiosity

2010-12-21T09:14:00.000-08:00

"I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious." ~ Albert Einstein

A great writer needs to have many things: talent, determination, a thick skin, etc. To me, though, the most important thing a writer, and indeed any artist, needs to possess is curiosity. The artist should always be curious about the world and I think that what draws me to my favorite artists, not just writers, is a sense of wonderment. They are fascinated by the world and they want to share this amazement with everyone.

I've always been incredibly curious about everything. I love to explore and to learn. When I was little, I think I tried just about every activity known to man: ballet, tap, dance, gymnastics, baton twirling, soccer, and a disastrous flirtation with acting (I was in middle school and to be fair, it really wasn't my idea). I rarely lasted longer than a month in any of these activities. Why? A number of reasons, but mostly because they required so much dedication and left very little time for anything else. If you wanted to be good at them, that is. There was a whole wide world out there and I wanted to experience it. School, unfortunately, did more to hamper my inquisitiveness than to encourage it. Throughout high school, the message was the same: if it's not on the final, you shouldn't worry about it.

I was recently listening to a podcast that I subscribe to and the hosts were interviewing Billy West, an accomplished voice actor. He's done a number of famous cartoon characters (probably best known for Ren and Stimpy). My personal favorite character that he voices is:

I was positively enthralled by the interview because West had a very similar experience to mine in school. He mentioned that he's always been incredibly perceptive, which he attributes to growing up in a abusive household. He related this great story about how he made the mistake of asking a nun why in a painting of Adam and Eve the titular subjects had belly buttons.

During the interview, West mentioned how much he hates it when institutions and people discourage questions and by extension curiosity. I couldn't agree more. Why discourage inquiry? Why stop a dialogue before it has even started? I think this mindset might be what's killing art. Our culture is so fixated on having everything fit in these tiny little boxes that we don't allow any room for exploration.

Thankfully, there are still accomplished artists out there that haven't lost that sense of wonderment, their natural curiosity. They may be an endangered species, but they're still out there. Last night, I saw Black Swan with a friend of mine. It is a spectacular, beautiful, and tragic movie. I mention it because there is one scene that really stuck in my mind. It was incredibly simple, but I think it was an amazing little artist moment. Natalie Portman, the main character, is throwing something away. She notices something in a container and leans over for a closer look. It's a simple pipe, which she comes up with a fairly clever use for. I smiled a little because something about the way Portman played it really highlighted the ballet dancer as an artist.

As for me, I've been fortunate enough throughout my long, long college career to find some truly amazing professors that I keep in touch with. They always provide the most amazing answers to my questions, ones that keep me thinking. I've also found a few friends that share my love of philosophy and literature. Writing allows me an outlet for my natural curiosity and I'm free to study a little bit of everything. All artists should be so lucky.

Quirky Results of Catharsis

2010-12-14T18:02:00.000-08:00

I write some really weird stories when I'm sad. I've never been able to figure out exactly why this is. The fact is that the strangest parts of my novels have been written when I'm upset, depressed, or blue. The same is true with the few short stories that I've been able to complete while in such a state. Sadness wreaks havoc with my ability to write, unfortunately. Side note - another one of my pet peeves is those writers that chastise others for being unable to write in different emotional states. "Your grandma died? Tough! Suck it up and write, you wuss!" Honestly, what the hell is wrong with some people?

I write this because for the past couple days, I've been rather low on account of finishing my first semester at Beloit. While this seems like something that would have me over the moon, it meant losing losing a class that was a wellspring of inspiration for me. While this doesn't sound all that horrible, any writer can tell you that inspiration is very difficult to come by. It can be fleeting and when it's gone, it can sometimes be devastating.

I dealt with this loss the way I deal with most things: I wrote. However, I didn't type up one of the four or five stories that I wrote during the semester. I had the urge to write something else, a quirky story that I'm at a loss of how to characterize. It has absolutely nothing to do with the loss that I had felt. There's a fair amount of violence, slightly more than usual for me, and a few out-of-place elements (a portrait I was using for my final feminisms paper, for example). It's the shortest thing I ever wrote, coming in at about 1300 words. I wound up printing out a copy for my brother to read (gulp) and e-mailed another to my mentor, which made me bang my head on the desk in embarrassment. I tend to make a complete and total ass of myself when it comes to my mentor, a habit I don't seem to be able to break.

The story is from the point of view of my mad character (who is my go-to character for catharsis), and it is a bizarre mix of musing followed by murder and then more musing. It is just weird. I've already read it several times and I just don't know what to make of it. Despite its oddness, I think I might actually kind of like it. Like I think I've mentioned before, I have a real soft spot for all things weird. Perhaps I'll try shopping it out to a few places.

I don't know why my catharsis takes on such unusual guises or why I explore things like sadness through the eyes of an insane character. Maybe that's just the kind of writer I am: dark and haunted. As long as I'm writing, as long as I'm creating, I can live with it.

Francesca Woodman

The embodiment of all that is beautiful and tragic about artists

****

A note about the content of this blog -

I received an e-mail today from one of my social networks. A woman who was much too happy (at the moment, any kind of cheer goes right over my head) has made it her mission to connect writers with agents by holding a kind of group query letter edit. Good enough idea, but one I shuddered at due to my inherent dislike of group activities. I may cave eventually and give it a whirl. I only mention this because it made me think of my own blog. I often feel bad that I haven't offered more advice to fledgling writers and I'm sure that I've lost plenty of readers because of this. Here's the deal: I'm in the same boat as you. That makes it rather difficult to offer any kind of advice for success. The industry is kicking the shit out of me too.

I started this blog in part to provide a place for writers, especially the unpublished majority, to commiserate. You're not alone. Have you ever noticed how every writing blog/website is run by people who have been published? This makes sense, but I think it also gives a false impression that every writer is going to be published some day. Everyone's novel is going to see the inside of a bookstore and we're all going to be honest-to-goodness writers. Sadly this isn't the case.

I keep this blog as a mostly-unpublished writer trying to break into the industry that has slammed its doors to so many of us. I want to provide an alternative perspective to the lucky ones. I've been rejected and still am (time and time again). I get frustrated and pissed off and rant and rave about the unfairness of it all, because that's a part of the writing process as well. I hope to provide a balance to all the overly-positive people that think as long as you have a "can-do attitude" the world will be handed to you on a silver platter.

This really sounds like I have my head way up my ass. Apologies for that. I actually really enjoy keeping this blog, which has become another form of catharsis. Like it says in the "About me" section of the blog, this is merely the journal of one writer's journey. Hopefully you'll want to take this maddening journey with me.

The Odd One

2010-12-07T21:53:00.002-08:00

Someone told me today that I was unlike most vegans that s/he knows. This is the second time someone has told me this. I don't mind it at all. In fact, I find it kind of sweet in a strange way. I'm sure a lot of other vegans would shudder at that, but I don't think it's any secret that we've got a bad rep. I blame PETA.

Than again, it might just be me. I've been told that I'm an odd feminist, a strange vegan, a bizarre humanist. Basically, I'm the opposite of what everyone expects me to be. Nobody really knows what to make of me. It amuses me to no end when my friends tell me about the first impression they had of me (I've written before about how awful I am when it comes to first impressions). Isn't this just the way people who make a living in the artistic fields are though?

I think this kind of dichotomy, the clashes within my personality, are what makes it hard to categorize my work. I'm a feminist that sees the complexities in things like psychoanalytic theories, Evolutionary Psychology, and historical misogyny. I'm a cynical humanist that has little faith left in mankind. Try wrapping your mind around that one, dear reader.

Yet for every cynical belief I hold firmly, I still live with my heart on my sleeve. I have to, as an artist. You have to live and expose yourself to all facets of life, both the pleasant and the unpleasant. For every joyful experience, there's agony just around the corner. Your heart will be broken a million times over and sometimes it's damn hard to survive like this. I'm convinced that the artist, and the writer in particular, experiences emotions much more intensely than most people. We have to in order to create believable stories.

I think this is why artists, including writers, sometimes come across as weird, eccentric, and yes, odd. It's why we seem like a mass of contradictions at times, why we seem awkward, why we say strange things that make others stare blankly at us. You have to be a little cracked to create so much, to love so intensely, and withstand all the rejection, heartbreak, and frustration. It's the result of feeling everything and not turning away.

Because if you're an artist, a real artist, that's the way you have to live.

Leonor Fini and Leonora Carrington: a pair of Surrealists

Mood Reflected in Writing

2010-12-05T22:40:00.000-08:00

Today, I was surprised to discover how dark one character's psyche was. Yes, I know, I was surprised by my own creation. How utterly pompous. Bear with me.

This particular character had started out completely different from the way she is now, like all well-written characters should. However, when conversing with another character, I wrote a small monologue that revealed just how pessimistic she truly is. There is no hope. We are all just insignificant specks of dust that have very little point or purpose.

It makes me nervous to write so bleak a worldview, because people inevitably turn away from such notions. Everyone wants to believe that there is some kind of hope in the world and that things will work out in the end. The heart never breaks. The pain never lasts. Tomorrow is another day and therefore another chance. There is no room in this society for negativity. Everything always works out okay in the end.

I can't stand terms like "edgy" when being used to describe a character. What this usually means is someone who is occasionally prickly, but deep down, s/he believes in the basic good of mankind. "Cynical" is another word that is overused and often incorrectly. Today it usually means a character that doesn't smile as much as the rest of the sparkly cast or acts in a very mildly dickish way sometimes. Eventually the character redeems him/herself, always before the hour is up.

Someone once said that the writer should write what s/he knows and I suppose that is what I do. I understand isolation and loneliness, pain, oddness. I can identify with the damaged, the cynics, the misunderstood, the weird and out of place. I know about pettiness and disappoint. Normality bores me and what's more, I just don't understand it. I don't get optimism and frankly, it freaks me out.

Perhaps this sudden streak of pessimism is on account of the semester ending. It might be seasonal affective disorder rearing its ugly head.

Oh look. Death.

It might just be a form of catharsis, a way to exorcise the darkness that comes with the falling temperatures. Part of me hopes not though. While I, like most writers, enjoy writing complex characters, there is something incredibly interesting about writing a protagonist with such a negative outlook on life. That's likely the psychoanalyst in me.

Of course I don't expect this story to see the light of day anytime soon. Like I said earlier, people don't like negativity in escapism.

Art is such a depressing field nowadays. There's a certain irony in that.

Useless Peer Reviews

2010-12-02T21:17:00.000-08:00

Regular readers know I have a low tolerance level for stupidity, especially when it comes to academia. There is simply no excuse for it and yet, here we are. Students have little to no respect for other students and forcing us together isn't helping matters. While I could rant for days about the ridiculous waste of time that are group projects, group work, and group everything, I choose to focus on a very specific time waster that is still inexplicably used even at the college level: the peer review.

It's almost finals week and all important paper due dates are right around the corner. Regular readers also know of the current source of irritation in my school life: my second class, Construction of Gender in Japanese Lit. If you're new to this blog, let me sum up: good professor, nice guy, 90% of the students are complete assholes. Arrogant as the day is long and like most arrogant people, they have nothing to be arrogant about.

The big final for this class is a ten page paper. Part of the whole process of writing this paper was a peer review. This raised my hackles and if I could have, I would have dropped the class right then and there. Now I have no problem submitting a rough draft to a professor for some feedback. I have no problem submitting my work to an editor (an actual editor, not some idiot school paper editor wannabe) for feedback. However, handing over something that I slaved over for days to some jackass undergrad that is likely drunk on power, not something I'm exactly thrilled about.

I've yet to have one good experience with a peer review. It's always the same routine: the professor encourages the students to point out what works in the paper as well as what doesn't and the student tunes him/her out and just rips the paper they're given apart. And the feedback given is just absolute shit. Completely unhelpful and reveals what an ignoramus you're dealing with. Occasionally you'll get a few nuggets of fairly helpful advice, but these are few and far between. Especially when you're dealing with a class such as the one I'm in.

So we got our papers back today, after the peer review (just the word "peer" is leaving an awful taste in my mouth). I'd like to share with you some of the enjoyable little notes that my reviewer left and offer my own commentary about why this person is a complete and utter moron.

My paper is a comparison of different subgenres of horror movies and how they differ in Japan versus America. The idiot, my reviewer's, comments shall be in red while my own follow up shall be in blue.

Reptilian (referring to the reptilian brain, or the primitive part of the brain)

Huh?

Wow, I'm dealing with a real prodigy here. I'm sorry, I thought we were in college and everyone had taken a course in basic high school psychology where we learned about where such primitive responses like fear originate. My mistake.

Good movie! :)

Okay, I know you're probably 18 and think that smiley face = compliment, but it freaking doesn't. It just reiterates how much of an idiot you are. Please use your words like an adult and not some child who just stopped finger-painting.

How is it literal if it is symbolic?

If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, does it make a sound? Oh I'm sorry, is this the pointless question portion of this ridiculous time-wasting exercise? I couldn't even wrap my mind around this one. Does s/he think that symbolism occurs in the unconscious or something? Practically everything we do has a symbolic meaning! A literal action can be symbolic of something else, you freaking imbecile!

When referring to America's Puritanical history and how it relates to the unease about sex that is most evident in horror films - Citation?

(Pause for aneurysm) Since when the hell did common knowledge need a goddamn citation?! Did you not take history when you were in high school?! Are you so completely clueless that you have completely missed this country's weird aversion to sex?! Why should I be faulted for your goddamn ignorance?!

When defining a subgenre of horror (before I've started talking about the interpretations of Eastern vs. Western) - Once again, how do the definitions differ?

I'm sorry to annoy you with work, a concept you are undoubtedly unfamiliar with, but have you completely missed how the paper is laid out? It goes like this, sweetheart: first I explain the subgenre, then I explain the Western interpretation of said definition, then the Eastern one. This isn't that freaking difficult.

After giving the commonly accepted definition of a subgenre, which is admittedly a little repetitive, but necessarily so - Huh...? Very wordy with "otherworldly"

And you're probably just annoyed because now there's a new word stuck in your peabrain. That's the definition! I can't help the wording of the accepted definition. What's with the "..."? There is no reason "..." should freaking be there.

After clearly (can't emphasize that enough) stating that something was a personal observation, a minor thing - What research suggests/supports this idea?

To understand the pure, unadulterated idiocy of this question/statement, I'll explain the observation: dogs turn up in slasher films, cats turn up in supernatural films. I made the mistake of suggesting that it might be because cats are associated with witches, a figure that falls under the supernatural umbrella of the horror genre. This person seems to think that I have done mountains of research into this phenomenon and demands that I site my sources. Can I reiterate that this is a run-of-the-mill school paper, not some scholarly journal article to be published in a respectable publication?!

And then the final thoughts, which were just as nitpicky and ridiculous as the comments above. The thing that really set me off though was how she ended. After ripping me a new one for about ten pages and not giving a single "oh, this works rather well", I get this little scrap:

"I enjoyed reading it and learned plenty from this topic. Make these changes and you will have a solid paper :-)!"

Sadly, I did not add the sideways smiley face or the exclamation point after it. Yes, she actually punctuated after a smiley face. Did you catch the little backhanded compliment she put in there? Translation of her final thoughts: "I need a good grade, so I'm going to nitpick every last word in this paper to bolster my own grade, but I don't want the professor to know what I'm doing so I'll add a little atta girl at the end."

I'm seriously considering just tossing my paper at the professor and then running for the hills. I don't want to be in that room anymore. The last day of this particular class can't come soon enough.

I wonder if it would be overly spiteful to include my own peer review of the review.

It will have to wait as I have an all-nighter ahead of me. Insert sad sigh here (and please don't ask me to site that).

The Exhausted Writer

2010-11-25T16:29:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I feel as though I'm speaking another language, one that no one else understands. Or perhaps it's one that no one wants to understand. I've been that way since I can remember. I've been lucky to meet someone every now and again who seems to understand me and doesn't mind the occasional quirk. These people are usually few and far between.

I don't understand people in general, as strange as that sounds. I don't understand what makes us tick, how we can go through life the way we do. I don't understand why we insist on everyone being an extrovert and why people insist on me going out of my way to socialize. I'm loneliest in crowded rooms and do my best to avoid them. In the words of the great Virginia Woolf, I need a room of my own. In order to function, to be happy, to find some form of contentment.

Right now, my family has gathered a floor below me. I've decided to forgo the holiday, too much to do. I had to wrap up a ten-page research paper comparing gender in horror movies from Japan and America. It's much less interesting than it sounds, believe me. I managed to eke out ten pages (just barely). If you're going to be a writer, you had better get used to professors and teachers assuming that everything you write is going to be a work of art. It's rather annoying.

Lately I've been reflecting on the notion of being married to the job. This certainly describes me, my life, and how I choose to exist. It's a way of life that's frequently met with derision. While watching the new BBC series Sherlock (yes, I realize I'm a hopeless nerd), I couldn't help but think about how the character of Holmes embodies this notion. In the first episode, he says something to the effect that relationships (romantic in particular) and indeed normal life bore him. I couldn't help but agree with this, yet I don't have the right to this kind of existence because I happen to be a woman.

For as long as I can remember, I've fought against the idea that a woman must settle down eventually and start a family. I lead a solitary existence. It suits me. I don't think that makes me any less a writer, woman, or feminist. I have a few relationships in my life, enough to satisfy my human need for social interaction. Why is that so bizarre? Why can't I marry myself to my job?

Honestly, sometimes as a writer, you just have to say "To hell with it" and do it. That's often when you create your best work. At least this has been my experience.

****

I was originally going to write something about how I just finished writing a short story about a character that I've only written about in novels before and what that was like. Unfortunately, it being the end of the semester, my brain has been put through a Veggie-matic and I'm having trouble just finishing this little entry. So forgive the stream-of-consciousness format. It's the best I could do.

Now I've got to go and figure out how I'm going to apply psychoanalytic feminist theory to a portrait of Proserpine. I have the tendency to enjoy making things more difficult than they need be.

"Proserpine" by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Newbie Writers Unite!

2010-11-16T07:46:00.000-08:00

I had a "straw that broke the camel's back" moment this morning. I had recently subscribed to a magazine when it went under and had sent in a submission. When it closed its doors, it released its slush pile. In the past few days, it found a new publisher and was able to reopen its doors. The editor offered the slush pile writers to resend in the manuscripts that had been released. I took advantage of the offer and resubmitted my submission, only to have it rejected not five minutes later.

That was when I realized that new writers, especially those who write popular fiction, are whores. That's right: we are a bunch of whores. Actually, we're worse because we don't even get paid for our efforts. We get used, abused, and discarded if we don't conform to what sells. We're told that we shouldn't write what we want, only what sells. The artists are the ones who have beat the system, albeit way back when that was possible. The rest of us are just plum out of luck.

This is where I get angry, because we're the ones who support the system that consistently screws us. We're the ones allowing this kind of sexism/ageism/bad ethics to continue by supporting this corrupt system with our money. I'd wager that more than half of a given magazine's subscribers are new writers hoping for a chance. Think about it: how many of you out there subscribe to a magazine that you submitted to and were rejected by? The more prestigious and well-known the magazine, the more likely they are to screw their readers over again and again. Yet we keep flocking back to them, doling out our money like masochists, and get absolutely nothing in return. Why do we keep doing it?

I know this sounds like the bitter rantings of a struggling writer, but I'm tired of going through magazines and seeing nothing but established writers found in the pages. Or sell-outs, because nothing beats a good sell-out. Sell-outs are the magazine's and agent's ways of covering the fact that they want nothing to do with new material. "Oh, this person is a new writer. See, I'm open." Yeah, you're open to a client that writes what is selling and therefore will bring you money.

My proposal is that writers, new and established alike, cancel any subscriptions to magazines that have a history of rejecting new writers or better yet, don't subscribe in the first place. I immediately canceled my subscription to the magazine that I was talking about above after today's unpleasant surprise. Let the magazines go under, show them that they're nothing if not for writers. The trick is to let them know what you're doing in a polite and professional way. Just say that you're uninterested in publications that don't give equal opportunity to writers of all kinds, new and established alike.

Something has to change, my fellow writers and book-lovers. If we want to bring back the art of writing, we're going to have to change the system that rewards sell-outs and punishes real artists. We're the only ones that have the ability to change it.

I implore you: cancel your subscriptions. And for the love of everything, WRITE!

Productivity Hampered

2010-11-12T17:21:00.000-08:00

I've been a writing machine lately. It's been one of those wonderful weeks where the words have just been flowing from my pen to the paper. I'm one of those writers that much prefers to hand write things first and then type them up later on my laptop (still hoping to get my hands on a good old-fashioned typewriter some day).

I finished three short stories, though I have to decide if any of them are publishable, and an article. I probably could have accomplished more had it not been for my damn, pointless class that is getting more and more unbearable as time goes by. It's a shame because the subject could conceivably be an interesting course if it weren't for the other students in the class. That's a bit of an overgeneralized statement: if it weren't for the students that insist on speaking in that class.

My dear reader, you may have noticed that I have a tendency to be a little on the quirky side. I'm nerdy, occasionally neurotic, and just baffled by other people more often than not. I'm probably a lot more open than I should be. It amuses me how many people describe themselves as weird when they're anything but. "You want weird? Spend an hour with me" is my motto. I'm incredibly difficult to categorize and often seem to be a kind of dichotomy.

Part of my quirkiness comes from my insanely high-standards regarding who I associate with. As awful as it sounds, I have an IQ level requirement for people. I've stopped talking to people because their vocabulary isn't large enough or their grammatical sense is lacking. Arrogance can often lead to a fairly unpleasant scene between me and the offending party. Oh, arrogance is my number one pet peeve.

A large part of my distaste for academia is the amount of people I have to interact with and the sheer amount of arrogance I have to deal with. I spent a good part of this week dealing with a "faux-writer" who believes herself accomplished because she's majoring in English and has published in the college journal. She also thinks flash-fiction is art, which it almost never is. A good portion of it isn't even real writing. Here's a good general rule to keep in mind: if you can fit it in a text message, it isn't a story.

I've often been told that I have a very old soul. Perhaps this is why I'm so set in my ways and ideas. I have specific criteria for who I label a "writer" and by extension, an "artist". It has nothing to do with how popular or well-known you are. I consider Stephen King to be a writer. Neil Gaiman is a writer. Margaret Atwood is a writer. It's not just because they happen to be lucky enough to be published and very successful. It's because they craft stories, put thought into them, work hard probably every day just to keep their skills sharp.

And they're not arrogant.

This drives me nuts about so-called writers who insist on applying that label to themselves. If you're willing to sell-out, you're not a writer. If you're a bully, you're not a writer. If you can't form any kind of coherent argument, you most certainly are not a writer.

Now, being a genre writer, I'm very protective of the label of genre. That doesn't mean I limit myself solely to genre work. My room is a library of genres and literature, fiction and non-fiction, classic and contemporary. I simply can't stand genre writers who don't read anything outside the genre they choose to write in. Likewise, I can't stand literary snobs who refuse to give anything other than literary fiction a chance. As artists and writers, we should expose ourselves to a wide-variety of genres and styles. Yeah, some of it won't strike our fancy, but that's the point. We learn what works and what doesn't.

The final thing that irked me about the non-writer, other than the fact that she and her bestest friend are pretentious snobs that made the mistake of talking down to me, was the fact that she raved about the author we presented on. If I had to choose one word to describe this particular writer it would be the following: shit. The writer was absolute shit. I did laugh out loud at one thing: she thinks she's going to win the Nobel Prize in Literature. Yeah and I'm going to be named pope one day.

I really wanted to like her. She had the right idea about writing: spending thirty minutes a day writing. Plus, living in a male-dominated world, I can totally sympathize. But the fact is that she isn't good. Her writing is flat, boring, and there's no character development. That would be fine if there were a spectacular plot, but there wasn't. Her work is shallow and completely uninspired.

I wound up taking my seat quickly, letting them gush about the shitty writer. I realize it's a ritual to gain acceptance, but it turned my stomach. I wanted nothing more than to dash off to my next class, my beloved Classical Mythology course. I just wanted to curl up at my desk and soak up the intellectual repartee that is common place in that class.

Thankfully, being a writer, I can get much-needed catharsis through my writing. That's one of the perks of being a writer: you can get back at assholes without fear of reprisals.

Artemis

Once turned a guy into a stag so that his own hounds tore him apart

He made the mistake of seeing her naked

Now that's wrath

*Apologies for the somewhat inane posting. I literally couldn't think of anything else to write about. I'm in the midst of trying to type up short stories, finish a rough draft for a paper, figure out a topic for another, and study for an exam. Add to that my normal stack of homework and I'm literally running on fumes. I might take this down and post something better if I think of anything, but I didn't want to let down my lovely readers. Plus, I always feel like I'm forgetting something if I don't update regularly. So, until next week.

Spring Schedule

2010-11-03T17:44:00.000-07:00

I had originally posted something else, but soon decided that I didn't like how it read. It was rather disjointed and kind of fell apart toward the end and I used some terminology that I really didn't care for. I might polish it up eventually, sometime down the line. I'm suffering from one of those common writer's quandaries: I know what I want to say but I'm having some trouble committing my idea to paper (or in this case, screen).

Today was a rather depressing day, and not just because the Democrats lost the house. And not because both states that I reside in went at least partially red last night (Illinois didn't hurt so much, since most of our politicians are corrupt asshats anyway. Feingold losing in Wisconsin, now that one stung). No, today was depressing because I signed up for the spring semester. You see, dear reader, I have the unfortunate tendency to grow rather attached to my professors. Whenever a class ends, I tend to get rather melancholy. Being new to this particular college, my first semester professors have been an invaluable lifeline. How I wish we had just one set of professors that we took throughout our college years.

I thought it might interest my wonderful readers to learn what my new schedule might look like. I'll list the course, a short description, and my reasoning for taking that particular course. No surprise, most of it pertains to writing.

Primary Choices

European and American Art Since 1300
Focusing on art and architecture from the Renaissance to the present, this course emphasizes social, economic, and historical settings. Course includes slide lectures with discussion and field trips to Chicago, Milwaukee, and Madison. The Beloit College Wright Museum of Art is also used as a laboratory for close study of original works of art.

I promised myself that before I finished with college, I would take at least one art appreciation/history course. I've always wondered what it would be like. Art is such an integral part of my life, yet I probably don't know as much about it as I should. I'm a little worried about this particular course because I've had some less than pleasant experiences with art history majors. Not art majors, not artists, but art history majors. Every single one I've met (which admittedly isn't that many) has been a pretentious asshole. I'm sure there are some wonderful people that are art history majors and I would love to meet one. If you know one, please have them leave a comment!

Anthropology of Consumer Society
This course examines consumption (aka shopping) in contemporary society from an anthropological perspective. Over the last century, the consumption of goods has become an increasingly important marker for status, wealth, and identity for societies around the world. It has also impacted social relations, modes of production and public life in negative ways. In this course, we examine a variety of works on consumer society around the world from the Slow Foods Movement, e-waste distancing, zombie films, "ethnic" Barbie dolls, and bottled water.

This is Beloit and I won't get the full experience until I take (and complete) an anthropology course. This one really appealed to me because of the subject matter. I'm always ranting about materialist culture and how it's destroying us as human beings. I hope this course provides me with some evidence for my argument. Plus, anything with zombie films and I'm sold. Zombie films in an anthropology course, how cool is that!

Victorian Garbage
This course explores the significance of garbage in Victorian period literature and culture. What did it mean to be dirty--and clean--in a culture riven by changing notions of urban life and industrial labor, of gender and sexuality, of colony and metropolis, and of social class and economic value? In the words of one anthropologist, waste is "matter out of place": it by definition challenges cultural, psychological, and conceptual boundaries. This course examines dirt both literally and metaphorically, turning to the actual detritus of London and to the fallen women and "human scum" that we encounter in literature by Charles Dickens and his peers. Along with the 19th-century novel, we will treat materials from a variety of other fields, including anthropology, psychoanalysis, the visual arts, architecture, urban planning, and public health.

My interdisciplinary studies credit and the class I'm having the most difficulty getting into. According to my advisor, this is a favorite among Beloit students. It sounds fairly intriguing. I particularly like the idea of examining the idea of what it means to be "dirty" or "clean".

Burning Sapphos and Laughing Medusas
Explore the poetry, loves, and lives of the world's first known female poet, Sappho of Lesbos (c. 600 B.C.). Topics to be examined: love, sex (hetero-, bi- and homosexuality), gender (constructing, escaping, denying, and transcending it), and literary and ideological appropriation, fabrication, denunciation, exultation, and annihilation in Greece, Rome, England, France, and America. Authors include Sappho (in a variety of guises and translations), Catullus, Ovid, Donne, Baudelaire, Swinburne, and Plath. In the first half of the course we examine all of Sappho's surviving poetry in the context of the ancient world. In this light we read Sumerian, Egyptian, and Hebrew love poetry, with a special focus on Greek and Roman erotic poetry. Themes to be explored include sexual identity, same-sex love, and gender perspectives on love. The second half of the class is a selective examination of the appropriation made by writers, artists, and composers of Sappho's poetry and persona. This part of the course examines how different "Sapphos" were created and used by English, French, and American authors from the Renaissance to the present.

I took this course for two reasons. The first has to do with writing. Lately I've become very interested in sensuality and sexuality. What is sensual/sexy and why? How does this play into who we are as people? Why are we so frightened by these notions, especially when they pertain to women?

The second reason I took this course is a promise I made to myself after rediscovering my love of myths. I told someone who I've grown to admire that I would never be far from a classics classroom. The study of classics has been invaluable to me as a writer and as a person. Because of this, I intend to keep this promise.

Film Music
This course will explore and analyze varied approaches to synthesizing music and film, including music for silent movies, music adapted for films, music written specifically for films, musicals with a performed score, and music for abstract visuals. Music has been involved with theatrical presentations since the ancient Greeks. From about 1895, music and film have developed a significant and powerful relationship and tradition.

This is one of those classes that just kind of jumped out at me. I don't know that much about music, but it seems like a fairly easy class. It seems like it should be an interesting study of how sound effects perception. How important is sound when it comes to things like plays and movies?

Secondary Choices

Intro to Math Thinking
Mathematics is more than a scientific tool or a theoretical discipline; it has shaped humanity from the dawn of history. This term we explore the development of elementary mathematics through history. We explore various number systems and the development of our base-ten system. We learn methods used at various times and locations for calculating and solving equations. And we study the development of geometry and number theory from ancient times onward. There are no mathematical prerequisites for this course other than knowledge of high school mathematics and a curiosity for how mathematics developed.

I need one more math/science credit. These being my weakest subjects, I'm looking for the easiest possible class for this particular credit. I'm looking for a course where I can glean what it's about from the summary, much harder than it sounds as I discovered when looking up courses for the spring semester.

Odyssey(s)
Odyssey(s)(Graeco-Roman Literature and its Post-Classical Tradition)
Journey with Odysseus (a.k.a. "Man of Pain") through time and space, making stops along the way at the Underworld, Ithaca, Mississippi, etc. In the process explore Archaic Greece, Classical Athens, Imperial Rome, Medieval and post-Renaissance Italy, and contemporary America. Investigate the recurring phenomenon of this irrepressible character who appears in the most unusual places: trapped in a 'comedy' of the Greek playwright Euripides, buried in a Roman emperor's aquatic dining hall (carved out of an ocean-side cave), damned as a 'soul-on-fire' in Dante's Hell, and 'George Clooneyed' in the Coen Brothers' film "O Brother, Where Art Thou?"

This particular class is the one I'm most torn over. I was at an "American Gods" weekend this past week and Gaiman mentioned how he felt he shouldn't read Joseph Campbell's study of the hero's journey because it felt like a blueprint for stories. There are some classes that are offered in college, that, while interesting, I feel I should avoid for fear of it becoming a blueprint for writing. This is one of those courses. I've been going back and forth about it for days now. The subject itself sounds positively fascinating, and it's a classics course (always a check mark in the positive column), but I fear it being too...instructive is the best term I can come up with. There are a couple people in my life that would (and might very well) scream at me and give me hell over this, but it's just how I feel.

So that's my spring term. There are no more words to describe how sad I am at the moment. My winter's "break" (term used loosely) will probably be spent querying numerous agents. That's another post for another time though.

The Original Horror Stories

2010-10-26T18:29:00.000-07:00

Halloween is rapidly approaching. Appropriately enough, we're getting insane windstorms here in Illinois and Wisconsin. While I was considering what to write in my next entry in my first foray into the seasonal series, I decided that it couldn't be another movie. That would be much too easy. Instead, I decided to trace horror back to its earliest roots (at least the earliest I know of). Dear reader, we're going back to the original twisted and horrific stories: rape, murder, cannibalism, dismemberment, and probably a whole lot of other bad behavior.

We'll be taking a trip to some of the darkest and most twisted parts of ancient myths.

Since enrolling in a course on Classical Mythology, I've been reminded of the many reasons why I love speculative fiction as well as myths themselves. One of them being that you have no real bad guy, per say. You've got a ton of bad behavior (most of it revolving around usurping), but there are no outright villains. It's amazing how complex myths are, much more so than about 90% of the crap that's written today. But I digress.

When it comes to scary, few things are more frightening than cannibalism. This was the ultimate no-no in ancient Greece, which is why the titan god Cronus scared the shit out of them.

That's Cronus chowing down on his newborn son, Poseidon. Actually, that's more graphic than the actual myth in which he simply swallowed his newborn children alive, which is actually kind of worse when you think about it. Cronus was always kind of a dick, even from a young age. He became the leader of the gods after castrating his own father, Ouranos.

The Greeks also had Hades, the god of the underworld. He had many names because, well, he was kind of their version of "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named". Hades wasn't as bad as Cronus, his father, but he did have his own kind of twisted personality: he abducted his wife, Persephone, when she was a very young girl. Of course there are many versions of this story, some suggesting that Persephone wasn't all that innocent in what transpired. Whatever the motivations, it led to Demeter almost killing off the entire human race, which is always kind of a downer.

The wedding night

From Wikipedia

Personally, the Greek myth that I've always found the most disturbing is that of poor Medusa. Medusa, in many versions of the story, was a priestess going about her life. Poseidon saw her and decided that he had to have her. So he raped her inside a temple that was sacred to Athena. Now to call Athena a woman-hating terror would be putting it lightly.

Do not make her angry

In retaliation for this affront, Athena turned Medusa into the hideous snake-haired woman that could turn you to stone if you looked at her. Sounds pretty tame by today's torture porn standards, but really think about that for a moment. The worst day of your life, you're violated, and then suddenly your hair starts falling out. Not just falling out though, you start to feel something moving, burrowing out of your skull and you realize that whatever it is, is alive. You look in a mirror and see snakes slithering out of the top of your head. Then you're banished to some crappy island to live out the rest of your life in forced isolation because nobody can look at you without turning to stone.

While the Greeks (and by extension, the Romans) certainly had their characters and chilling tales, I hold that nothing beat the Egyptians. First of all, their afterlife was positively insane. You were greeted by the jackal-headed god, Anubis, which is unnerving enough. He would weigh your heart against a feather and if it was heavier, your soul was promptly devoured by the female demon, Ammit, who the Egyptians were positively terrified of. It's understandable, considering she was a mix of lion, hippopotamus, and crocodile. Add to this her monikers such as "devourer of the dead" and "eater of hearts", and you've got one hell of a monster.

The one test you did not want to fuck up in ancient Egypt

However, this was nothing compared to the behavior of Set. Set was a god of chaos who suffered from a perpetual case of jealousy. Everything he wanted, his older brother, Osiris, got. Including the wife he wanted, Isis. Yes, they were all siblings. This is the ancient world. However, Set took sibling rivalry to a whole other level. He invited his brother to a feast and then basically dared him to lie in a coffin (it was a beautiful coffin that was promised to whoever fit best in it). Osiris did and Set promptly nailed the cover shut and threw it in the Nile.

However that meddlesome Isis, she found the sarcophagus. She had been looking for it because she was afraid that without the proper ceremonies, Osiris would not be able to journey to the place of the dead. After locating it and traveling back down the Nile, she hid it in some marshland. Of course this proved to be a mistake.

Set, not having been a big enough prick yet, was out hunting and stumbled upon the sarcophagus. So like any normal god of chaos, he decided he hadn't killed his older brother dead enough. He decided the best possible course of action would be to dismember the body into fourteen pieces and scatter them across Egypt.

Of course Isis, and her can-do attitude, located all but one piece. She fashioned a phallus out of what was left of the body and conceived their son. Okay, that's a bit...odd by our standards. However, I included that because Set wasn't done yet. After Isis gave birth to Horus, Set spent most of the rest of the legend either trying to kill Horus or prove his illegitimacy. Reading the legend, especially as many times as I have, I often get the impression that Set was the god in the Egyptian pantheon that the other gods would throw their hands up in the air whenever he showed up. Even his own wife, Nephthys, worked against his whole "kill Osiris, usurp his power" scheme. Yeah, Nephthys decided her husband was completely off his gourd and threw her lot in with her older sister, Isis.

"Dammit! Who invited the jackal-headed ass?!"

The modern horror genre relies mostly on shock, exploitation, and pushing the envelope. However, they can't hold a candle to some of the shenanigans that happen in the ancient myths. Take a look at some of the original stories, not the watered down stuff that we learn in grade school. You'll be shocked at some of the stuff you find in them.

A Delightfully French Zombie Movie

2010-10-22T17:00:00.000-07:00

I'm a cynic. On a good day, I'm pessimistic. On a bad day, as I told my mythology professor, I prefer to turn to evolutionary psychology with a nihilistic twist: we're a bunch of uncivilized apes that are driven solely by the desire to mate. People usually react to stories about murder, cover-ups, or corruption with shock. Me, I usually respond with a shrug and say, "Eh, figures." The first time I ever heard the famous line from A Streetcar Named Desire "I've always relied on the kindness of strangers", my first thought was, "How have you never ended up in the trunk of a serial killing rapist's car?" Harsh? Perhaps. But we all have our moments and we all deal with the unfairness of the world in our own ways.

I'm writing about this to give you, dear reader, some background about why it is that I have particular disdain for the feel-good variety of movies. I can't stand those movies that exist solely to give the viewer a temporary fix. Don't get me wrong, I don't like long drawn out sadistic torture fests either (as I've written numerous times before). However, I don't think the world is a bowl of rainbows and sunshine where everything works out fine. People don't ride off into the sunset. Happy endings are rarely ever happy in the way we understand that emotion. And could someone please explain to me why it is that in every single damn movie that features a writer of some sort, said writer is always published or gets published in the end? What kind of bullshit, kick-an-artist-when-s/he-is-down mindfuck is that?! I can't think of a single movie or television show that portrays what a writer's life is actually like: either selling out or suffering, long and lonely hours of just you and your laptop (usually listening to the most depressing music known to man).

But I digress.

Perhaps it's these tired plots and cliched endings that make me turn to speculative genres. Like I've mentioned in an earlier entry, I consider myself a horror aficionado. Classic horror, not this new crap that masquerades as horror. I happen to have particular affection towards one monster in particular: the zombie. Especially the Romero variety (I could rant for days about how these new speed demons are not actual zombies, but I won't). I very rarely watch a zombie flick that falls outside of Romero's canon, however occasionally I will.

A few years ago, I was reading about a French zombie movie. Being the Euro-phile that I am, with a particular fondness for France, I was immediately intrigued. I looked up the movie and promptly bought a copy. The movie is called They Came Back (or Les Revenants in French). It is possibly the most bizarre and most existential "zombie" movie ever made. Possible spoilers

(Source: Wikipedia)

It's interesting because it has touches of the usual zombie mythos: nobody knows exactly why the dead suddenly return to life. However it diverts from the usual formula in the portrayal and look of the zombies. First, the zombies return to their homes relatively clean and unblemished. They look exactly like they did when they died. They aren't deformed, there's no blood, no horribly scars, not even any dirt. 70 million people seemingly just return from the dead.

Also, unlike their American counterparts, these zombies aren't craving flesh or brains. They're not predators, in fact, they're not hungry at all. There is something unnervingly off about them though. They're not quite human and it's unsettling. You can never quite put your finger on what exactly is off about them, but instinctively, you know that something isn't right. They behave strangely. They lack any kind of emotions. Their stare is incredibly intense, yet it seems like they stare at nothing. Their oddness makes it basically impossible to integrate them back into society.

In short: they're alive again, but not really.

Then their loved ones, who have had to take them back in (because where else are they going to go?), start to notice odd behavior. The recently resurrected have a penchant for going out at night. Where they go, no one really knows. They just wander out at night and return the next morning. It soon comes to light that they're meeting with the other resurrections at a construction site, but what they're doing is anyone's guess. However, this isn't really the main focus of the movie. The focus of the movie has to do with why I began this blog entry the way I did. It's about the relationships of the dead with their former loved ones.

You see, dear reader, I saw this movie as a metaphor about how love can sometimes be a burden. It isn't all flowers and candy. I still question whether or not love is a more complex notion then we tend to think of it. I see it as a strength and a weakness. It is neither good nor bad, yet to say so makes most people shriek as though they've just seen a rat. People are scared of complexity because things are tough when they're not black and white.

I'm not talking about Alzheimer disease or dementia (although that certainly can be an example). I'm talking about any interpersonal relationship. Think about it: sometimes your friends, family, and other loved ones are the ones that you sometimes hate. When we get to know another person intimately, we bear our souls to each other. As a result, we reveal our weaknesses and flaws. It becomes easier to wound the other and to be wounded, to take advantage and to be taken advantage of. And goddammit if it doesn't hurt every damn time. The ones who can hurt us the most are the very ones that we trust unconditionally.

That's where the brilliance of this movie lies: acknowledging that even death can't separate us from hurt and being hurt. Acknowledging that sometimes love is the poison we need to survive, even when it can also be the very thing that hurts us the most.

Blood as a Character

2010-10-15T16:18:00.000-07:00

A long, long time ago, I went on a horror/scifi bender. I still don't know exactly why, mostly because it was completely unintentional. Just whenever I came across any kind of scary-type movie, I'd stop and watch it. Some I watched all the way through, most I watched maybe two to five minutes before changing the channel. Perhaps not unsurprisingly, I don't remember a good deal of what I stumbled across. In fact, of the dozens of movies I previewed (for lack of a better term), I remember only one. Keep in mind these were all shoestring budget indie horror flicks, B-movies, the kind you'd find on the Syfy channel.

The one that I remembered, Shallow Ground, was no different. It was mostly awful. The dialogue wasn't completely atrocious, but it wasn't exactly stellar either. In fact, this movie couldn't seem to decide whether it was good or bad. For every redeeming aspect, there was an obvious plot hole. The storyline was jilted, the characters were rather poorly developed, and it completely fell apart at the end (although not the final scene). Spoiler warning, proceed with caution.

There were a couple of bright spots (Timothy V. Murphy was born to play a world-weary small town sheriff, for example), but the big one that warranted a blog entry was a surprisingly clever idea that wove its way throughout the movie. It was a notion that horror aficionados, and even gorehounds, would smack their heads and exclaim, "Of course. Why didn't I think of that?"

First of all, the movie started out brilliantly with the introduction of possibly one of the most memorable characters in horror movie history, known only as "Boy". Now there are plenty of nameless characters in the horror genre, but how many of them look like this:

I have a lot of respect for this actor (Rocky Marquette). Not only does he spend a good portion of the movie naked and completely covered in "blood", he doesn't have a single line. Not even a squeak. He has to convey everything purely through his eyes. And he actually does an impressive job.

Like the title of this entry states, the director/writer, Sheldon Winters, uses blood as a character. The blood in this movie actually shows some primitive form of intelligence. When it drips off the boy, it slithers across the floor, not in a cheesy way but rather in a seeping type way. It would be the normal motion of any liquid if it were on an incline. This blood happens to be on level ground. In order to achieve this effect, the director actually built a model of the police station floor in a studio and poured some "blood" on it. Then stagehands would tilt the model floor in the direction they wanted the blood to move.

It has been a while since I've watched the movie, but I remember that coming into contact with the blood caused some kind of intense flashback of murders. The twist ending, one of them, is that the blood-covered boy turns out to be five different murder victims. They somehow merged to form one person.

Like I mentioned earlier, this isn't exactly classic cinema. It's a grungy indie picture that has some interesting moments in it. However, the idea of using blood as a character has always struck me as incredibly interesting. When the blood first starts moving around, the viewer doesn't know what it's going to do but you still know that it's nothing good. Also, the idea of a completely mute character is something I'd like to see more of. A big problem with horror these days is that there is too much talking. We all talk to ourselves on occasion, but we don't have entire dialogues with the ceiling (unless we're certifiably insane that is). Sometimes saying nothing can be much more effective than explaining exactly what's going on.

Also, could someone please explain to me why it seems like every single indie horror flick needs to have some kind of worldwide epidemic going on. Nothing wrong with something creepy happening in a single town or city. Why does it need to be global? I can kind of understand the thinking behind this, but it just strikes me as rather tiresome at times.

Horror, Surrealism, and Dance in "Silent Hill"

2010-10-12T17:48:00.000-07:00

Since it's Halloween season and I'm as close to giddy as I get, I've decided to try and do a weekly blog entry on various aspects of horror that I enjoy. Movies, ~~television~~, and of course, literature. This will probably be more out of the blue random observations on what works and what doesn't in the horror genre. Or maybe even summaries/reviews of quirky little horror films that I've come across in the past.

I decided to do this after watching a fairly interesting horror film last night. Even though it was heavily edited to run on prime-time cable, the overall eeriness was relatively in tact. [Fair warning: there might be spoilers in this entry. So don't yell at me, or if you do, be prepared for ruthless mocking/ridicule]

By all rights, this movie should not have worked. It was based on a videogame (actually a series of them), which automatically should have made it completely awful. I remember reading a few reviews of it and being struck by how incredibly odd they were. It was one of the first times that I had read reviews that seemed completely unsure of how to explain a movie. The critics didn't like it, but they didn't dislike it either. It was so utterly baffling that there was no real way to review it. This isn't a bad thing, but it isn't a good thing either. Rather it just is.

After reading these semi-reviews, my curiosity was peaked. I was so sure that I would be bored and therefore hate the thing, but I simply had to experience what had left my critics completely bewildered. So when I noticed that it was going to be on TV yesterday, I set my DVR. At around eleven last night, I took a trip to Silent Hill. Believe me, "trip" is an apt description.

The first thing you need to take note of is the fact that this movie is directed by Christopher Gans. Gans is one of my favorite directors. He's French and his movies are unique without seeming so. He directed Brotherhood of the Wolf, which is a classic for the simple fact that it combines history, supernatural fantasy, and martial arts without being completely ridiculous. It's a well written, smoothly flowing film that should be seen by all movie lovers. Gans can weave in and out of genres and make it look completely effortless. The way he convinced the game makers to allow him to make this film, by relying on his strength in his art medium of choice, it's just awesome.

Gans is a smart director and perhaps that's why this movie isn't a complete failure/mess. In Gans capable hands, it comes off as a horror movie with touches of surrealism. In fact, he uses surrealism to heighten the sense of horror and dread. The sense of dread that pervades the movie is a big reason why it works. (Note: another reason why this movie works might also be the fact that it sticks to the game's mythology. I can't comment on this due to the fact that I've never played the game and don't know anything about it).

Surrealism is a term that is often thrown about haphazardly. Anything weird or strange seems to automatically earn the label of "surreal". This is a huge pet peeve of mine. Inception was NOT a surreal film. In fact, nothing directed by Christopher Nolan is surreal. That's not just because I think he is a truly awful incompetent director. It's because there is nothing surreal about his movies. He simply throws in elements that he thinks are surreal in and of themselves. But I digress. For the purposes of this entry, let's just say that "surreal" is a much more complex notion with no simple clean-cut definition.

Back to Silent Hill.

One thing that had me highly skeptical about the movie was the central character of the little girl. I'm the first one to admit that little kids are frequently frightening. However, in cinema, the "creepy child" has become a cliche. I was even more skeptical when I saw that the little girl was played by Jodelle Ferland, one of the go-to actresses for the role of "creepy little girl" (also she recently accepted a role in the series written by she-who-must-not-be-named, so my feelings towards her were negative to say the least). Yet somehow, Gans made this aspect work. There was a remarkably unique twist on the character that nimbly sidestepped the cliche landmine.

The way the movie looks, feels, and plays out makes it seem like a little kid's nightmare, which winds up making it highly effective. Gans often makes use of actors that have highly unique talents. For Brotherhood of the Wolf he used an actress that also happened to be an acrobat or gymnast for one particularly important scene. In this movie, he again makes use of uniquely talented individuals. Almost all the creepy creatures are portrayed by actors/actresses with backgrounds in dance. Dancers can move in very unique ways, including unsettling ways. A jerky walk can have an almost graceful quality in the capable limbs of a dancer.

Fresh from a production of "Swan Lake"

You'll notice that in many of these pictures, there is a certain subtle emphasis on the lack of facial features. Many of the creatures don't have faces or if they do, they're obscured:

The Nurses

Pyramid Head

Possibly the most surrealistic sadist ever committed to celluloid

The Miners

This is one aspect that made it seem like a child's nightmare: bizarre faceless creatures/people that often hid in the oddest places, just waiting to pounce on whatever unfortunate prey happened to come their way.

Gans showed great skill in using color in this movie. He basically bled the color completely out of the movie until you were left with a murky gray or just darkness. He did such a good job of it that the viewer is startled by the sight of a flame or the color red. In the beginning, the color scheme is more or less normal. Then, it gradually starts to fade until the protagonist, Rose, enters Silent Hill.

From what I've read about the making of this movie, the original script contained no male characters. That would've been an interesting aspect, but unfortunately, the studio wasn't quite happy with it. I mention this because the two women protagonists add to the gray color scheme: they're both blonde and pale. Both wear clothing that lack dramatic colors.

Even their sole "ally" matches the eerie color scheme.

Dahlia Gillespie: One of my favorite characters

That gray stuff is ash by the way. There is a subtle knock against religion in this movie (the antagonists are the descendants of witchhunters and quickly label the protagonists "blasphemers"), but there is also a constant fire burning beneath the city. This aspect is actually based on a real abandon mining town in Pennsylvania. However, it can also be seen as symbolic of the Judeo-Christian notion of hell.

It's only as the movie nears its conclusion that the audience is suddenly bombarded with bright vivid colors. It starts with the main antagonist's dress. There's a genius in this: until this point, the only color we've seen are glimpses of a creepy little girl's dress (a rather dull purple or blue) and the more obvious flame-like orange and reds when the darkness comes. The darkness is when all the bad stuff happens (adding to the sense of childlike fear). The sense of dread that comes with the darkness is heightened by an alarm, a fairly loud drone, that always sounds right before the darkness comes. Again, another touch that should have been annoying or cliche. I'm at a loss for explaining how it worked as effectively as it did. It worked so much better than it should have.

Anyhow, back to the use of color. The main antagonist is introduced and there's something off about her. The color starts to come back, but it's dull and muted. Something is very wrong with this picture.

Finally, when the protagonist begins on her final journey, which will soon become an orgy of violence, color returns. Keep in mind, until this point, more than half the picture has been shot with this kind of color scheme/atmosphere:

Two mothers meet

You've gotten used to it, grown accustomed to it. Then, almost without warning, you're hit with this:

What follows is a climactic fight that is extremely violent. Honestly, I'm a veteran of the horror genre, but even I was shocked at the amount of violence in the grand finale. It can only be described as disturbing, which somehow added to the surrealism. It wasn't Tarantino-like cartoonish violence. It was much closer to the violence found in an Argento movie.

The last aspect of surrealism I'll mention is the character that was referred to as "Dark Alessa", which was a very confusing creation. You don't know exactly what she is or if she is in fact evil, although it's certainly suggested that she is. You only get glimpses of her throughout the movie until the end. When you get glimpses of her, more often than not, she's wearing a vivid purple dress that stands out against the bleak shades of gray. When the movie reaches its conclusion and major plot aspects are revealed, you get to meet "Dark Alessa" face-to-face for the first time. Believe me when I say she is the epitome of scary.

It was something about the way she moved, and it's the reason why I have to begrudgingly admire Jodelle Ferland's acting ability (though not her current career choices). She came off as something not quite human, embodying the notion of what Freud referred to as "the Uncanny". The way she tilted her head, her walk, her half-smile, even her voice was unsettling. It was almost normal, but not quite.

One of the most fascinating scenes in the movie

If you ever watch this movie, pay particular attention to this scene

"Dark Alessa" is seen in one of two ways, both of which are creepy in their own ways. She's either dirty and crone-like:

Or unnaturally clean and flawless:

It's only the cadence of her voice and speech patterns that make her identifiable. She's something ancient in the body of a little girl. Something older than the notions of good and evil. Something completely indifferent to the outcome of the life and death struggle that the characters find themselves trapped in. Yet she isn't simply watching from the sidelines. You get the definite impression that she is influencing events or allowing them to happen. She's not merely an observer of the events, she has a hand in them. It's never really clear just how involved she is in everything that happens, which adds to the overall eeriness of the character.

Make no mistake, this movie is not without its flaws. I felt that the violence could have been pulled back a little and still have been effective (it was right on the narrow line of sadistic). Still, I think it is a genuinely interesting film. It's easy to see why it wasn't panned. With all the brainless entertainment that floods the cinemas, this movie has a certain amount of intelligence to it. It's not Academy Award good, but it's certainly unique. It's a visual exercise with touches of a variety of genres. It invites the viewer to read it in any way s/he wants to. I have a feeling that I could watch this movie again and come up with a completely different reading or pick up things that I didn't see before.

I would definitely recommend it to horror fans, surrealist fans, and people who like atmospheric flicks. It would also benefit those with an interest in speculative fiction.

Just make sure you don't see it alone if you spook easily.

****

I hope this unusually large entry makes up for my lateness and then unforgivably short and pointless entry. School tends to eat right into whatever little free time I have. Rest assured, I'll never completely abandoned this blog.

Also, I apologize for the odd formatting. My formatting appears to be having a complete break down and is putting in spaces where there aren't any. It's incredibly aggravating.

Busy as a Bee

2010-10-11T07:35:00.000-07:00

I know, I know, I'm awful at updating sometimes. I'm currently in the midst of juggling one too many scarves, which seems to be a hobby among writers. I'm writing this on the fly, so expect a very concise entry.

As you've noticed, I've joined yet another social network. Fingers crossed, I've applied to be added to some kind of syndication list.

I've had to put my own personal research on the back-burner in order to work on a couple first-rate pain in the ass majorly important papers that are due come December. Could someone tell me when just turning a paper in went out of style? That's the one thing I miss about high school: you turned in a rough draft, got it back, rewrote it, and handed it in. Easy peasy. Now I've got to submit a bibliography page, a rough draft for peer review, a rough draft, and finally the final paper. So much unnecessary rigmarole.

The paper that I'm going to write about for my Japanese Lit class is about the horror genre: how it compares to the American horror genre. It's a fairly interesting topic, though a little hard to research. I've already run into my first "holy hell! What the (bleep) is that?!" character:

Kuchisake-Onna or The Slit-Mouthed Woman

Compare/contrast papers are not my strong suit, so we'll see how that goes. I still have one other paper topic for another class that I have to choose soon. I'm still mulling it over.

Other than that, nothing much going on. I have the week off and have been writing like a fiend. I'm home, but I find myself longing to be back at my dorm. I'm waiting on a package that I mistakenly sent to my home address. Once I get that, I'm out of here. The only downside of my dorm is that I don't have enough room for all the books I need to write. I've had to leave a good portion of my reference books here at what used to be home. Perhaps I'll start lugging them there...or I'll order a "traveling set" for there. Why do dorm rooms have to be so bloody small? Can't I just live in the library?

On the bright side, it's the month of Samhain, Halloween, Dia los Muertes. The most wonderful time of the year in other words. I can't begin to describe how much I absolutely love this month. Always have. Okay, it might be a little morbid, my favorite holiday being Halloween, but what do you expect? I am a genre writer after all.

Unfortunately, that's all the time this busy writer has time for today. I still have to pack, change for my workout, and probably do some other things that I'm forgetting.

I'll try to post something longer next time.

Genre Writing Exercise

2010-09-28T17:38:00.000-07:00

During my first rewrite of my first novel, which seems like ages ago, my mentor had me do a number of writing exercises intended to give me a better understanding of what exactly I was trying to do. He was smart in creating these exercises: none were ever tedious. Instead, it gave me a chance to create another story within the universe I was creating. My favorite is still the creation myth exercise, which was much more beneficial than I realized at the time.

A Little Background: Why this Exercise?

Genre writers are particularly susceptible to losing sight of what they're trying to do. Our work tends to get away from us if we're not incredibly careful. It's so easy for a story to just completely get away from you. This makes it even easier to stumble into the dreaded cliche territory.

Whether you're creating your own universe or, like me, setting the fantastic against a real world setting, you still need to be aware of the rules of the setting. Real world is a little easier because you're dealing with a reality that you already know about. If you create your own universe, you basically have to start completely from scratch. Both approaches have their strengths and weaknesses.

The Exercise

Read a few creation myths, different cultures. The two creation myths in the book of Genesis are the best ones to start with because it's a relatively quick read and fairly straight forward. In my Classical Mythology class, we've looked at everything from Ancient Mesopotamia to Tolkien's own universe. After you've done this, and taken a couple notes, create your own universe. Use your own creatures and write a myth about how they came into being. Why are they there? Where did they come from? Who made them?

Spend a fair amount of time on this exercise, but don't overthink it. It shouldn't be an epic (unless of course you want it to be), rather it's meant to familiarize yourself with your characters and your world. Keep a file of this exercise and refer back to it whenever you need to. You'll probably never publish it and it may not even turn up in your work overtly, however it will color the background of your stories and add a little depth that readers really respond to.

Time

2010-09-27T22:32:00.000-07:00

It's rather late. I should be in bed. Yet my mind is still wide awake. If I were to try to sleep, I'd wind up just lying around, staring at the ceiling. So I figured I'd do something more productive.

It was my birthday today (technically yesterday). I was born at 11:35 p.m. on the 27th, so close to the 28th that it was originally listed as my birthday on some adoption forms, though quickly remedied once the error was discovered. I spent a good part of today alone, though I did get to see my mother and younger brother. I got to see my good friend Robyn yesterday.

Sitting here now, I've been musing on how strange it is that I've already accepted my own mortality despite my not being all that old. Perhaps it is the old and weary soul of the artist, but the idea of one day no longer existing is not a notion that bothers me. It's just another state of being, ordinary and simple. The main positive thing that happened to me today is that sense of isolation and loneliness is not as intense as it once was. Undoubtedly it will return tomorrow when I go back to my classes, but reading the words of my good friends, seeing how many people know that I do in fact exist...that's something I wouldn't trade for the world. Perhaps I'm not as doomed as I sometimes believe myself to be.

There was one that I thought I would hear from today, though for the life of me I don't know why. I did not. It was not as crushing as it might have been at one time. The person in question hurt me, badly, probably not even aware of doing so, but it is in the past and I can no longer dwell on it. I can't allow it to dictate my actions or sway my decisions anymore. Much as it hurts, I have to accept this new phase of the bond we have.

I shall celebrate my birthday this Thursday, when I'm home with my pets. My home that's not feelings as much like home anymore. Perhaps it's just changing, metamorphosing like everything else around me. Or perhaps I'm the one changing.

For the first time in months, I started a new short story. My healing is nearing its completion and soon I'll return to being the full time writer that I have always been. The scars remain from searing words, but they're no longer gaping wounds.

Drunks are wandering around campus, laughing and carrying on. A game is on in the lounge down the short hall. People are going about their lives as I am mine.

Make no mistake, I'll probably crash and likely sooner rather than later. These occasional moments of sereneness are always fleeting. However, I always remember them and sometimes they keep away the despair. I don't know where this strange inner calm is from. I've always been told I have an old soul and perhaps this is what whoever said that meant.

I must go now. Either to answer the singing of the muses or their cousin sleep. Personifying everything, a sure sign classical mythology is on my mind.

I swear, the next post I write will be completely writing related.

Chasms

2010-09-19T17:35:00.000-07:00

Sometimes you don't need to be alone to feel lonely.

It's been a while since I updated, due solely to my workload. I hope to reduce it by this week (one of my classes isn't working out, so I'm going to drop it. Unfortunate, but necessary).

Walking around campus, I can't help but notice the chasms in my world. I've never been the most social person to begin with. When you put me in an environment where almost everyone is close to ten years younger, it's only going to intensify my aloof demeanor. I can't get over the generational gap. Other students at my college seem to speak an entirely different language and frequently reference things that leave me completely flummoxed.

I'm faced with a similar chasm, albeit not as wide, with my professors. This one is a chasm of experience and position: I'm not a professor and am therefore relegated to the status of student, which I simply don't fit in. I enjoy my interactions with my professors, which I find infinitely more satisfying than my interactions with other people. It satisfies my intellectual desires. However, these only last for so long (maybe a few minutes after class, if I'm lucky) and once I again I must return to my tiny room in solitude.

The chasm of home is perhaps the widest. My interests and those of my nuclear family are so different that it's near impossible to put into words. I'm the weird one, the oddball. I don't quite fit and therefore occupy the role of the outsider within my own home, which doesn't quite feel like home anymore. I don't speak their language and they don't speak mine, leaving us with a strange dialogue of frequently meaningless words strung together to create a kind of semi-coherent speech.

My inability to explain things is a chasm of my own making. The people that I do communicate with, my friends, my other loved ones, sometimes it's difficult to explain to them what I wish to. It's times like those that I feel like I'm speaking a completely different language. It's difficult to communicate what I need when even I don't know exactly what it is I'm looking for. Of course, there's always the possibility that the person I'm trying to communicate with will ignore me, but that's another rant for another day.

When I was younger I developed a strategy for dealing with these chasms, one I use even now. When I'm not listening to depressing music like an emo, that is. I turned to books. I lost myself in worlds and characters as removed from the world as I felt. When this wasn't enough, I would create my own stories and plunge into my own imagination. Such is how I became a writer. So when I say I write because I need to, it's not a statement I toss out there flippantly. I write because sometimes it feels like the only way to prevent myself from drowning.

To write is to be alone for the most part. Perhaps that's why it came somewhat naturally to me and why I'm willing to sacrifice so much for it. I've always been alone in one sense or another. I'll most likely die alone, eventually. Still, there's some small comfort to think that I'll always have the worlds of myths and fiction to keep me company. And the worlds I created myself, of course.

A Dish Best Served Cold

2010-09-05T17:59:00.000-07:00

I haven't had much of a chance to write lately, since most of my classes require me to read insanely long and technical articles each and every night. It's annoying how fairly interesting topics can become dull as dirt when weighted down with the most tedious vocabulary imaginable. If this entry is short, my apologies. My brain is currently mushy. And I'm not even done yet.

These past few days, in between articles and readings, I've been looking back over some novels that need editing. I came across what I consider to be one of my better works. The running theme throughout is about the destructiveness of revenge. One of my many guilty pleasures is my love of a good revenge tale. Not rape and revenge, I've never enjoyed exploitative genres. No I like the character done wrong and rising to give the wrong-doers their comeuppance. I think it's a common human experience. We love to see the bad guy get his/her comeuppance. Tales of revenge can be found everywhere, even in the most ancient of mythologies. My favorite myth, Osiris and Isis, begins with an act of revenge (Set being the murderous bastard that he is. I guess you can't hold it against him, being a god of chaos and all). The Greeks even had a personification of revenge: Nemesis.

Here's a short list of novels, mostly classical, that I've read that are about revenge:

Count of Monte Cristo Alexandre Dumas
-the ultimate tale of revenge, probably the best out there
Hamlet
-revenge turns up a bunch in Shakespeare. Few of his plays are without at least one act of revenge
Cask of Amontillado by Edgar Allan Poe
The Odyssey by Homer
The Crucible by Arthur Miller
Moby Dick by Herman Melville
The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest by Stieg Larsson

There are many, many more, but I haven't read them. Or if I have, I've forgotten about the act of revenge in it (that's what comments are for, dear readers). As always, it's much easier to find movies that deal with revenge.

While I do enjoy the occasional revenge tale, the one thing I can't stand is the consequence-free track. That's where the main character just goes on a bloody rampage and then saunters off. As if killing a bunch of people was just an everyday occurrence. That's when a movie or novel strays into exploitative territory, or dances on that very thin line. In my opinion, the carefree revenge shows laziness and makes the characters involved completely unlikable. They're shallow, one-dimensional, cardboard cut-outs. They're BORING! I don't care about them and I sure as hell won't waste my time trying to glean any kind of depth out of them. There are too many good books and not enough time. I'm not going to waste any of it on poorly written novels.

Conflict, real human emotion, that's where you get a page-turner. I want to feel the character's hesitation, their desperation. I want to wonder about why they're doing what they're doing, or if I do know, I want to feel discomfort about who I should sympathize with. Not squirmy discomfort, the good kind of discomfort (the kind that comes with the tough moral questions). The violence, if there is any, should be repulsive but not gratuitous.

This may sound like a list of contradictions, and don't get me wrong, it is. However, writing is a job and no job is easy all the time. As a writer, it's my job to carefully consider each question, craft a story using them as a kind of compass while not being overwhelmed by them, push any self-consciousness to the back of my mind, and try not to lose my sanity in the process. Oh yeah, and I have to make it look the easiest thing in the world.

Such is the challenge of good novelists.

The Bride: hell hath no fury like a mother

The Advantages of Being a Woman Writer

2010-08-29T11:24:00.000-07:00

That's one of my favorite posters, courtesy of the Guerrilla Girls (personal heroes of mine). I was reading an article for my Intro to Feminisms class and I came across this. As I was reading it, it struck me that it was aimed more towards women working in the visual arts. As I, and my good friend Robyn, have commented on before, the writing medium is a completely different animal to the visual arts. While I don't like comparing the two fields, I do think visual artists do have slightly easier than writers only because human beings are naturally visual creatures. Looking at something is much easier than imaging something.

The assignment for this class was to write a response paper answering one of two questions. The one I chose was "what is the point of [this] list?" and I decided to go the unconventional route by creating my own list. I had so much fun creating it, that I decided to go more in depth using my blog.

Before we get to the fun part, let me remind my dear readers that I'm coming at this from a speculative fiction writer's standpoint. This makes my list somewhat limited. So I would like to invite anyone reading this to make their own additions. Pass it around to writers you know and ask them for their input. I want a number of different perspectives: literary, playwrights, nonfiction, academics, etc. Don't be shy. Feel free to vent. Every comment is going to be published.

Without further ado:

Advantages to Being a Woman Writer

*Not having to worry about something like a career or success, since this is just a "hobby" to keep you busy until you settle down and start a family

*Resting easy in the fact that no matter what you write, it will inevitably be labeled either "romance" or "chick lit". Unless you happen to be a lesbian, in which case it will be "queer lit"

*The sheer amount of agents and magazines that advertise for new women writers. You can query them all and not have to stress out about being accepted because it will never happen (no one buys books written by women, silly)

*Knowing that the only reason you're having trouble is because you're not trying hard enough. As almost everyone you know will point out, "If there were sexism in publishing, would someone like Stephanie Meyer be so successful?"

*There's no stress about being a unique individual because as everyone knows, women are all exactly alike, right down to the way they write.

*Being able to stick to what you know: cooking, fashion, kids, weddings, and greeting card love

*Your characters have already been pre-written for you: ~~abusive~~ romantic man, meek girl, and possibly one other man. Oh, and they're all heterosexual. And chaste.

*Having your pick of the following genres: self-help, cooking, romance, young adult, and children. Memoirs are okay as long as they involve you going on a journey of self-discovery and falling in love. All the other genres will only sell if they're written by men (What? Ursula Le who?)

*If you must try another genre, you can as long as you either (a) make it a supernatural romance or (b) write under a pseudonym. Men won't buy westerns/horror/scifi/fantasy that has been written by a girl. They have cooties and write about weird woman-y shit like cycles and other gross stuff.

*If you somehow manage to get published, your biggest concern is looking fabulous for the picture on the inside flap

*No need to worry about being taken seriously as an author. It's just adorable that you think you're a serious writer.

*You don't have to worry about being taken seriously until you're much, much older (probably later fifties and up).

*You don't have to worry about any of this ever changing. After all, they're only books. Who really cares about books?

In the literary world: there are more women writers than men

Yet men win more literary awards than women

Rundown of My New Classes

2010-08-19T09:31:00.000-07:00

I found out my schedule yesterday, after clicking around the webadviser site. Thankfully, I got into all my primary choices. It's a fairly heavy load and it covers a variety of topics, which I felt my dear readers would be interested in.

~~Cultural Approaches to Math~~

Description: What we think of as "mathematical" ideas may be viewed by other cultures within the contexts of art, navigation, religion, record-keeping, games, or kin relationships. This course treats mathematical ideas investigated by cultures such as North and South American Indians, Africans, and various peoples of the Pacific Islands, and analyzes them through Western mathematics (developed in Europe, the Middle East, and India). The course helps the student understand what mathematics is, both to Western culture and to other cultures, and how cultural factors influenced the development of modern mathematics.

~~Text: Ethnomathematics: A Multicultural View of Mathematical Ideas by Marcia Ascher~~

Classical Mythology

Description: The character and influence of classical mythology, emphasizing its importance in literature, religion, and the fine arts.

Texts:

The Three Theban Plays by Sophocles
The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien
The Bacchae of Euripides by C.K. Williams
Theogony and Works and Days by Hesiod
Beowulf - Bilingual Edition by Seamus Heaney
Homeric Hymns Translated by Jules Cashford
Metamorphoses by Ovid
Ancient Egyptian Literature: Volume II: The New Kingdom by Miriam Lichtheim
The Prose Edda - Tales from Norse Mythology by Snorri Sturluson
Myths from Mesopotamia: Creation, the Flood, Gilgamesh, and Others by Stephanie Dalley

Intro to Feminisms

Description: This course investigates the theoretical assumptions of practitioners within various movements aimed at eliminating gender-based discrimination and introduces students to the multiplicity of ideas that have come to constitute feminist thought. Various assumptions, approaches, and philosophies of feminist, womanist, and other pro-women thought are investigated. Emphasis is placed on how these approaches are historically and socially situated, how each has its merits and limitations, and how they will inevitably conflict.

Text: What is Feminism?: An Introduction to Feminist Theory by Dr. Christine Beasley

Constructions of Femininity and Gender in Japanese Literature

Description: This course will combine close readings of Japanese literary texts with discussions of gender theory. We will read a wide variety of texts (novels, plays, memoirs, poems) ranging from the ancient period until today. We will focus on how gender is portrayed with particular attention to the female voice and woman's roles in society. Key questions will include how and where the vectors of race, class, and gender converge in Japanese literature; how depictions of gender changed over time; and how gender images differ in Japan and other cultures.

Texts:
Naomi: A Novel by Junichiro Tanizaki
The Doctor's Wife by Sawako Ariyoshi

So that's what I'll be doing all semester. Hopefully the work won't be back-breaking or insanity-inducing. Time to roll with the punches.

**Just found out that Ethnomathematics filled up before I could get a spot, so that particular course will have to wait until next semester.

How One Writer Got Her Mojo Back

2010-08-18T16:43:00.000-07:00

If you were ever to meet me, the first impression I give is probably a meek one. I'm rather quiet and withdrawn. This probably isn't the best impression to give people, body-language wise, because it will be assumed that you're a pushover. People will try to walk all over you and if you're like me, as stubborn as the day is long, this is likely to lead to some rather unpleasant confrontations. Such is what happened today. But I get ahead of myself.

I've already explained, dear reader, that I don't appreciate this whole orientation she-bang. The overall plasticity of it is simply grating. Throwing people together in a group and then trying to create some kind of support group is utterly pointless. Worse, it's simply degrading. Beloit College has taken it to a whole new level with an entire week devoted to treating sophomores and juniors like they're freshman. I can't handle it. Don't get me wrong, the people in my group are nice enough, but I don't want to get attached because chances are that I'm never going to see any of them again. So I've been coming off as rather aloof.

These activities have been so emotionally taxing that it has actually gotten to the point where I've started getting sick. It's embarrassing to admit, but I actually almost fainted yesterday. I can't handle being forced to act for so long and needed some kind of break, so I started skipping a couple seminars. I missed one and got kind of chastised for it. Dear reader, I realize that I come off as damaged and/or neurotic, but I am what I am. I can't be around huge groups for extended periods of time. I need a break and a private little corner to recharge. My dorm has provided this private area much better than I had expected it would.

Until today. Today the group had to go downtown to see the bookstore (which I've already seen) and the arts center (also something that I've already seen). Then they were going to sing the school song. I have reached the point where I can't take it anymore. I just want to sign up for classes and get on with it. Some of the closest friends I have, I've met through classes. Of all the orientations I've been through, I've kept in contact with exactly 0 people. My understanding of Beloit's layout has come more from my own personal explorations. During the free hours, I take the time to run around the campus on my own. It's a quiet experience that I very much enjoy. I'm not being led around by the nose or like a pony on a halter.

New Student Orientation: Treating incoming students like animals

Because it's tradition

So anyhow, I skipped this little "field trip" so that I could look up a textbook list. I called home and sat down at my laptop when there was a pounding at my door. This was bizarre to say the least, seeing as how I'm basically a hermit. I looked through the peephole and was surprised to see my orientation leader, who I was indifferent towards up until that moment. I opened the door, still on the phone, and she laid into me. First of all, this was clearly a strategy meant to intimidate me. She started laying into me about how I had to come because I was letting the group down and she had been sent to retrieve me. Everybody wanted me there and I was letting them down and I was being selfish, thinking only about myself. I had ten minutes to hang up and come outside.

I was kind of floored and felt as though my space had been violated. First of all, she shouldn't have been able to get in my dorm because she didn't live there. That's why I say this was a pure intimidation tactic. Secondly, there are some members of our group that have showed up to maybe two or three meetings and haven't been since. They didn't even come to the "mandatory" meeting on sexual assault, which I went out of my way to attend despite the fact I had been ill all that afternoon. So why was I the one letting the entire group down?

There was a knock on the door again and at this point, I was pretty much trembling because I was the only one in the dorm aside from maintenance (who were working on another floor). It was the orientation leader again, wearing a strange look that was a mix of disappointment and pissed off. Thinking that she was going to deck me, I held the door between me and her. This may seem rather paranoid, but I've never lived in a dorm before and never experienced an encounter like this before. She told me that the group couldn't wait for me and that I had to come to the FYI seminar that afternoon. They really wanted me to come (who the hell is "they"? I kept wondering). Then it was implied that I wouldn't be able to take classes unless I attended. And she left.

That last implication was the straw that broke the metaphorical camel's back. I want to attend college, but I sure as hell am not going to put up with threats, even mild ones like that. Who the fuck did she think she was? I've survived perverts, maniacs, abandonment, and countless rejections. I sure as hell could survive some student up on their high horse that was drunk with power. I'm sick of being a doormat that's led around by the nose. I won't be walked all over and I sure as hell won't be threatened. The college needs me as much as I need it. I've paid my tuition and I'm a damn good student. I work hard and throw myself into whatever task I'm assigned. I get good grades and keep up with my workload. That should be more than enough.

I immediately started packing my bags, fully prepared to walk out. I wasn't going to stay in a place where I felt boxed in and/or unsafe. I sure as hell didn't want any part of a school where you could only take classes after completing asinine tasks that had absolutely nothing to do with the curriculum. Oddly enough, even though I got into a screaming match with my mother, I felt empowered. For the first time in a long while, too long, I was not a puppet with strings. I was independent and taking charge of my life. I was free and making my own decisions. For the first time since arriving on campus, I felt like an actual college junior instead of a child.

And I left. Not permanently, but holy hell did that walk feel damn good. For one of the first times, threats didn't work on me. I was threatened and I fought back, albeit a little later. But I fought back nonetheless. I stood up for my convictions and was able to leave with my head held high.

Of course, this is great when you don't have a combatant. Anyone can walk away after the fact. Cowards can walk away after the fact. No, there was a certain amount of emptiness that remained. I was threatened and ran away like a scared rabbit. This situation needed to be resolved.

On the drive home, the Orientation Leader called right on time and wanted to know if I was coming. Sadly enough, dear reader, I was almost instantly intimidated again, just at the sound of her voice. I meekly stammered that I wasn't coming, mentally punching myself the entire time. She demanded to know why and that made me find my backbone again. I immediately responded that I didn't feel like sticking around somewhere where I felt threatened. She sounded taken aback and much to my amazement, she backed off.

I had won. Not a scratch on me, no knock-down drag-out kind of brawl. I simply called someone out on their bullshit and the person actually backed off.

Well, kind of. Now that I've called her out, I've got to talk to her on Friday afternoon. How I love schools and their ridiculous policies. Conflict resolution, jesus h. christ. Whatever happened to registering for classes and making friends naturally, maybe one campus tour. Now we've got to resort to empty threats and confrontations. I'm not sure if I'm interested in that kind of academic setting.

I don't know how this meeting is going to go on Friday, but chances are that I'll have to give some b.s. excuse about why I don't want to be a grinning idiot, smiling emptily and skipping along from place to place like a demented doll. If I'm expected to apologize for something that was not my fault, fuck it. I will walk out and I'll take my tuition with me. This may be a game of chicken, but I have the advantage. I've got nothing to lose and everything to gain.

On the positive side, I get along incredibly well with my dorm mates. They fascinate me with how unique they are and yet are still friends. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I don't feel like the odd man out in Haven Hall. Despite the fact that I'm one of the few first year students in the hall, that's not looked down on.

So, dear readers, keep your fingers crossed for me. I think I shall be fine, but you never know. All one can do is take things as they come. Hope for the best, expect the worst, and roll with the punches.

A Week for What Could Be Done in a Weekend

2010-08-16T18:41:00.000-07:00

Hello dear readers. I'm coming to you from Beloit College and I must say, things have been going a lot better than expected. I've mostly settled in my tiny dorm room and my only complaint is that they're dragging out this orientation much too long. This entry will be a mixture of good and bad things, likely jumbled and cobbled together.

My dorm isn't so bad. My RA is smoking hot. The guy seriously stopped me in my tracks the first time I saw him. He mentioned that he had done a study abroad program in Scotland and I was head over heels. The fact that he's a very easygoing, laid back character is another plus. I just realized that's probably the only kind of character that I haven't written: a laid back one. I'll have to remedy that.

This new student orientation was fast getting on my nerves with the high school-type activities. They're literally leading us around and pointing stuff out like a glorified campus tour. I can find the library myself, thank you very much. No, I don't need to ask this other transfer student about his/her hobbies. I'm never going to talk to this person again, why do we have to share our deepest darkest secrets again? Oh good, now we're going to sing songs like a grade school children. When do we get to the trust exercises? I'll do spectacularly on those.

My advisers seem nice enough, but these exercises are tedious and absolutely pointless. I just want to register for my damn classes and get the hell out of here. Which brings me to today. Have you ever gone from utter despair to hopeful within a matter of seconds? I did today and still have some mild vertigo from it.

Transfer students met the department heads today. I immediately went to Anthropology and met with the department head with three other girls. Things got off to a bad start almost immediately. The three I was with were hardcore anthropology majors. They were going to be anthropologists no matter what. There was nothing outside the field of anthropology, whereas I was the lone novelist of the group. When asked what interested them in anthropology, they each had the answer you'd expect from an anthro major: "I want to study culture" or "I want to work in a museum". The department head looked at me and my answer was a confident and enthusiastic, "Because it's what Kurt Vonnegut originally studied."

This response was met with the blankest stares I've ever encountered.

The focus was then on the three serious students and I felt absolutely crushed as I listened to the lengthy curriculum that was required of anthropology majors. I don't mind taking the odd class here or there, but this was absolutely ridiculous. The rigid curriculum had an equally rigid schedule that would diminish any time I had for writing. To get this degree, anthropology would have to become my life. There would be almost no room for other courses that I might be interested in. Not if I wanted to get out of here within two years. Also, my Evolutionary Psych course was tossed out as not real anthropology (she even made a face at the name of Buss).

I mustered a polite smile and thanked the department head for her time. I walked away from the table near tears, feeling absolutely defeated. Before I could leave though, I had to check in with the department head of my minor: Women and Gender Studies. I was fully expecting my day to get even worse, though I couldn't see how it was possible.

I was heartened slightly when I saw the department head. She was a professor that looked exactly like you'd imagine a women and gender studies chair to look like. She looked like the kind of professor that I'd want to take a class with. She was discussing English with another student, so I patiently waited for them to finish. She did and turned to me with a big smile, greeting me with an enthusiastic, "Hi." I sat down and asked about the minor program, hesitantly handing over my transcript. She looked it over and took note of all credits, mentioning that I only need a few more courses to achieve a minor. Very few, like maybe two.

Purely out of curiosity, as is my way, I asked her what the requirements for a major would be. She looked at my transcript again and mentioned that it would probably be almost as easy to get the major. I certainly had a good start with the amount of credits I'd already amassed. To get a degree in Women's and Gender Studies, I'd be able to take classes in almost every subject that I'm interested in: the arts, English and literary studies, feminism, anthropology, even philosophy. I couldn't believe my ears. This was the college experience I've been searching for. I'll study a wide variety of subjects and how they pertain to the experience of women. Best of all, I'll easily be done in two years.

Strangely enough, I've noticed that this particular major is looked down on by many "real" college students. It's almost seen as a non-degree and not really taken as a serious field of study. I'm in a group with a variety of majors: anthropology, geology, biochem, environmental studies, languages, etc. These seem to be the "real world" degrees, those with specific applications. These are the students that want to get traditional jobs.

For the first time since I've got here, I've felt a small measure of hope about this not being the most miserable experience of my life. College in the states has become a factory-like experience. People go in, bitch about credits and courses they have to get, and are spit out into cubicle existences. Why aren't there more Women's Studies majors? Why aren't there more artists that major in this? It seems tailor made for them: an easy program of study that exposes you to a wide variety of subjects. It's not rigid at all and gives you the freedom to explore topics that you might not have otherwise.

So within the span of twenty-four hours, I've gone from Anthropology major and Women's Studies minor to Women's Studies major and Anthropology minor. I've registered for a class that I didn't even notice until the chair of the department brought it to my attention and now I'm wondering what I'm going to do next. For the first time, I'm not working from a plan. I'm just kind of making it up as I go along since my previous college didn't have any kind of Women's and Gender studies program.

I think I've completely abandoned whatever comfort zone I might have had. And it feels so damn good.

*Beloit College really is a great university and I would highly recommend it to anyone that is looking at colleges. It's not that difficult to get in and has a wide selection of courses as well as fields of study. And if you're not good at a particular subject, you'll be able to find a class where you can get the credit without necessarily having to know a great deal about it. For example, I have always struggled with math. Numbers are not my thing (I still count on my fingers, sadly). This semester, I've enrolled in a course called Cultural Approaches to Math and it counts as my math credit. If you need a physics credit, you can take History of Physics or Physics of Music. It's amazing how accommodating this college is to the student body.

I only have two complaints (aside from this ridiculous New Student Days crap) and one really isn't even a complaint. The non-complaint is that the student body is a lot more intense than I had expected. These people are serious about studying (although I have heard that some people have been getting really shit-faced at night). Still, this seriousness about college sometimes makes me feel slightly out of place. I'm an explorer who is not necessarily looking to achieve a degree. I'm more here for experience.

My second complaint is about transferred credits and classes. Beloit offers some courses that are listed as "offered occasionally", meaning there's a 50/50 chance of it ever being offered again. There were courses I would have loved to have taken but didn't have the prerequisites required for the course. Two of them were Comparative Lit courses: one was all about Gothic fiction and another was about gender in the Victorian novel. I don't know if they'll be offered again, but it was just really irksome to miss out on these undoubtedly interesting courses.

The World Weary Writer

2010-08-13T10:24:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I'll leave for my new part-time home at Beloit College. Like I've mentioned before, I think I'm the only one unhappy about it. It's not even unhappiness anymore, just acceptance. Over the summer, I've lost something: an inner fire, the combative aspect of my personality. It feels like life just happens to me now and I developed a numbness towards the world. I'm weary of the overall repetitiveness of it.

I've spent the better part of the day making cupcakes for my long-time clients. When I was done with that, I started packing up some personal effects: books, both written by me and things that I'll read in my down time. It left me feeling strangely detached, almost like I was packing up my existence. A lot of my work revolves around my fear of being completely forgotten and today I felt as though I were playing out that fear. It got slightly overwhelming, so I took a break to write a blog entry. I don't know how much time I'll have for this when I'm at school.

Today I'm going to have to go through the motions for the last time. Smile, fake enthusiasm for this great opportunity, die a little inside, rinse, repeat. The sad thing is that this is one of those situations for which there is no answer or solution. There is just experience, if that makes any sense.

My mentor pointed out that I'm following in Vonnegut's footsteps: studying anthropology while striving to be a novelist. I don't think I'll ever be as good a writer as Vonnegut was and I don't know if my overall indifference towards the world in general will affect my writing adversely. Everyone I know wants me to be something different: teacher, anthropologist, normal, etc. I've just lost the energy to fight expectations. Pile them on.

Which books should I pick off the shelves to bring along with me? Do I bring mythology books? Some fiction? A couple graphic novels? Perhaps an art book or two? There are so many to choose from and I know that I'll leave a couple behind. No matter, I'll be home four days a week most of the time. I can easily pick them up when I'm back home again.

It's rather unsettling to see my life in boxes of stuff. Am I a person or a compartmentalized unit? Do these items sum up the person that I am? If they do, I'm afraid I'm rather dull. It's kind of depressing.

So this is obscurity. Seems like I'm being overdramatic, but I can't help feeling a sense of finality to this. Someone told me recently that this has been what I've been working toward my whole life. Funny. I thought I was working toward achieving my dream in life: to make a living as a successful novelist.

My dream has always been, and will always be, to be a novelist and live somewhere in Europe. Somewhere that feels like home. A small dwelling with a guest room or two in case I ever have visitors. I'd make my vegan meals on a small stove (in my dream I'm not afflicted with pyrophobia). My days are spent at a little desk in front of my laptop next to a window that's open to let the fresh air in. I'm happy and content to spend my days in this peaceful solitude. In my dream, my nearest neighbor is about ten miles away. There's a rocking chair outside for when I sit outside and meditate. My faith in the world has been restored, mostly, though I'll always sport a few scars. My days are spent in the beloved world in my head, creating new stories and adventures, with my darling dogs asleep at my feet (the cat is usually asleep on the furniture, as cats often are). I might even continue writing this tiny blog, if I had an internet connection.

Sometimes it's only our dreams, that tenuous thread, that keep us going. And sometimes, you'll find, it's enough. Just barely, but enough.

Kurt Vonnegut: Anthropologist and Novelist

Perhaps there is still hope.

Better be, because I'm still too stubborn to give up

Maybe that's proof that I'm still a writer at heart

Short Story Struggles

2010-08-08T17:52:00.000-07:00

This is embarrassing to admit, but I can't seem to write a short story to save my life. I've written them before, even got one published, but they are rather awkward and don't read as smoothly as I'd like. I'm always reluctant to hand them off to someone to read because all I can think is how I poured so many hours and sweat into them and now I've got to watch that hard work be eviscerated. It hurts like hell and is not an experience I particularly relish in.

I'm fascinated by writers that make short stories look easy. Writers like Gaiman, Ellison, and Hemingway make the short story look like second nature. They write stories that I can see getting published in literary magazines. I think this might be because they started out writing short stories and moved onto longer works, whereas I did the complete opposite. I'm much more in my element when it comes to novellas and novels. Drawn out stories come to me easily and this has left me with a slim resume to show literary agents.

Part of my problem is that I write snapshots: a glimpse into the life of characters. I'm a character-driven writer, so naturally my stories focus more on characters than on events. I think this is a valid form of short story, but unfortunately, I don't think literary markets agree with me. Or at least readers don't. I should remedy the situation by drawing up an outline before I start writing. The problem with this is that I'm easily distracted/bored and will frequently lose interest in an idea when trying to outline it.

My self-consciousness regarding my short stories has led to me falling behind in sending them out: a mortal sin among writers. The unspoken rule is that you always send out, no matter what. When they come back, you send out to different magazines. Wash, rinse, repeat. A writer doesn't have time to wallow in self-pity. I used to have such a great work ethic, but a number of things happened that tore me out of my rhythm and I've been struggling all summer trying to find it again. I still haven't chosen a damn story for this stupid special issue of the prestigious magazine.

I have absolutely no ego anymore. While this may sound like a good quality, it really isn't. In my post about arrogance vs. narcissism, I explained why narcissism within reason is an important quality that artists have to possess within reason. I need to find a way to reboot my own self-confidence and soon. This idleness is killing me. I'm a writer, dammit. I must work. I must write.

The Love/Hate Relationships of Writers

2010-08-05T15:50:00.000-07:00

I have frequently commented on my lack of tolerance for poor writing, usually focusing on one "wishes-she-were-but-really-isn't" writer in particular. I think I've also mentioned the dog-eat-dog world of the arts. What was once a noble pursuit in life has pretty much devolved into little more than consumerism that barely even resembles art. As a result, there is this kind of paranoia among the struggling artists. We are so convinced that if we reveal even a little of our work, it will be stolen from us. Alas, I am not immune to this particular paranoia and that is why I never go into specifics about my work. Only a select few are allowed to view it. It's not just paranoia, it's also my piss-poor summary skills. For the life of me, I can't summarize a story without coming off as either (a) a loon or (b) someone with their head up their ass. Sometimes I even manage to do both.

However, I am rapidly getting off topic. I think that a big reason why the arts (especially in America) are in such a sad state is the complete lack of camaraderie. In this blog, I have mentioned Andy Warhol parties or the Algonquin Round Table, the times when artists came together to discuss their craft. Movements like Dada and Surrealism brought groups of individuals together and each member brought their own flair, style, technique to the movement, which enriched what they were creating. When did we lose that?

I won't lie, dear reader. I frequently come off as a snob and perhaps because of this, I'm adding to the problem. I'm very particular about the artists I associate with. Most of the time, I have nothing but disdain for writers in similar positions. However, this is normally because they are trying to sell derivative garbage so that they can get a big paycheck. Very few writers write for a love of language anymore. They all have Hollywood dreams, thinking only of who will star in the movie adaptation of their books. And it's always books, nobody ever writes just one trashy novel. They have to create an entire freaking series!

Which leads me back to this morning, when I thought up this blog entry. I went through my daily routine: woke up, swore when I realized I had woken up, went downstairs, swore at the damn slow desktop, finally got on my e-mail and checked the daily correspondence. There was a message from one of my social networks (which I use so little that they've begun to collect cobwebs, bad writer. Bad, bad writer). It was from a newbie writer that had just sold her first novel and was annoyingly happy about it. In a blissful moment of schadenfreude, I noticed that she realized getting published is only half the battle. Getting people to buy your book, that's a real challenge (if you get an agent, it's slightly easier than if you self-publish).

So she came up with a genius idea: she wants to do kind of a blogging tour where bloggers interview her about her book. That way, she gets publicity and we lowly unpublished writers get some of the trim from her own blog. It's win-win! Not interested in being any kind of charity case, I was just about to delete the e-mail when I noticed the title of her book. It was about vampires.

After nearly having an aneurysm (during which I screamed "go fuck yourself!" a record amount of times in my mind), I calmly deleted the e-mail and thought about why exactly this request had irritated the crap out of me. I think it's partly why I'm not widely published yet: I won't use other people to get ahead. It's one thing if someone comes to you and asks to interview you or if you ask a friend or someone you know to do you a favor and interview you. It is quite another when you are so pretentious that you ask complete strangers to interview you about a shitty book and then offer nothing more than "my fans will read your interview and who knows? Maybe some will like your little blog enough to read some other entries." That's beyond condescending. That's practically the definition of "complete asshole".

I have no doubt that some people will take this person up on her offer in the hopes that literary agents and publishers will flood their blog and start throwing offers at them. Newsflash: It's not going to happen! The bloggers might get one or two more readers, but that's it. This isn't networking. It's some greedy individual using people as means to an end. Oh, I can't tell you, dear reader, how much it pisses me off when writers do shit like this. It's just unconscionable.

I do wish there were more camaraderie among writers, I really do. I also wish more people gave a shit about writing and more writers actually tried writing stories with substance rather than just what would sell. Unfortunately, that is not the way of the world. The arts are drowning in a sea of greed, which is overpopulated with sharks. It has become increasingly harder to find true artists among all the posers and wannabes. Seriously, the arts have become an adult version of freaking high school.

And to be clear: it's spelled "vampire". "V-a-m-p-y-r-e" means you're a pretentious shithead who probably spells magic with a goddamn "k". This isn't the 1800s. Misspelling words doesn't lend your work an air of timelessness. It makes you look like you're trying really hard to give your work an air timelessness. Fantasy fans, this is part of the reason why the genre gets looked down on: writers try stupid little tricks, like misspelling words, to make work stand out and it ALWAYS FAILS! If you're writing fantasy, for godsakes, don't try to write fantasy. Write a story that happens to have fantasy elements in it.

Oh, and still no pictures because I'm still without my laptop.

Note- My brother informed me that "Vampyre" is the French spelling of "vampire". Being an unashamed self-professed Europhile, this was mortifying to find out. So to any French people or Francophiles I may have offended, mea culpa. There is one instance in which you would spell "vampire" with a "y". However, this author was not French and was using a cheap trick to try and push more books, which makes it that much more insulting.

The Lonely Soul

2010-08-04T17:02:00.000-07:00

Apologies for the lack of updates lately and for the undoubtedly short entry today. My damn laptop had some issues, which required it to be taken into the shop. As a result, I can only use the desktop. I dislike this thing immensely. The keys feel alien beneath my fingers and it is often unbearably slow. And the mouse is stupid. That may sound childish, but it's true: the wireless mouse is stupid. Also, I have limited access to my music, which I need whenever I'm doing something writing-related. I'm sure most writers can sympathize with this. I've yet to meet another writer that doesn't listen to music while working.

This has just not been a good summer since I finished my workout classes. My life seems to be imploding. I miss my professors and instructors. I miss the kindred spirit I found in one instructor (if she's reading, happy birthday). I miss my friends. I miss my mentor. I really miss my laptop. I'm struggling with writer's block, the loss of that machine has been so distressing. Something about the thought of it being opened up by tech guys just disturbs me. It's like an extension of me. Like any writer, I pour my heart and soul into my work space (the laptop in particular). It contains a good part of my life. My work is my life and now it's being broken into. Does that sound insane?

I've spent a good portion of my life alone in one sense of the word. I never experienced true loneliness until fairly recently. Now I'm being shipped off to another place (even if for only three or four days a week, hopefully) and suddenly it feels as if I've been cut off from the people that I know and love. It's not pleasant. Perhaps that is the type of writer I'm to be: the recluse, living in isolation with only the glow of the computer to keep her company.

This is straying into the "woe-is-me" entry that annoys the living crap out of me. I hate coming off as whiny because that's not who I am. However, I think other writers can relate to this struggle: between wanting space and that awful feeling of loneliness when you'd give anything just to hear a kind word.

Since my last entry, I've narrowed down the possible submissions for the prestigious magazine to three stories. I'm leaning towards one in particular, which seems to be slightly stronger story-wise than the other two. I'd like to get some feedback on it, but my source may be too busy with other tasks, so I might have to forgo that.

I have no way to end this entry. I'm currently struggling with a spell of depression and as a result, the words won't come to my fingertips. Might be another few days before my next update (between Monday and Wednesday next week). I just wanted to let my dear readers know that I am, in fact, still here.

Also, no picture for this entry. This desktop might explode if it attempts to access the site I use. Damn, and the previous entry was one of my better ones.

Dream Logic

2010-07-29T16:37:00.000-07:00

I keep a dream journal and have done so for the past few years. I'm interested in the bizarre imagery that emerges from my subconscious. More than that, the seeming lack of logic is fascinating. I can usually pick out some of the symbolism, but sometimes I go to my mentor for help with the particularly difficult ones. In most of my dreams, and even nightmares, the "storyline" seems to revolve around me being trapped in some kind of setting, normally domestic. There is very little blatant sexuality, most of it is subtext, which makes sense if you know me.

Despite my interest in dreams and nightmares, I normally can't stand the way they're portrayed in movies or in literature. It's because they're too rational. There is very little, if any, of the bizarre imagery and twisted logic that is so often found in our dreams. I find that writers and directors struggle with memory in a very similar manner. It's just too specific, which is due to the fact that we don't realize how truly selective our memory is. Think about it. Think of your clearest memory and then try to remember an exact minor detail, like the color of the ground or everything that was on your left. Though you may remember it, you don't realize that you've forgotten a great number of details. This is because you've forgotten them, i.e. they're not stored in your memory.

My brother and I saw Inception yesterday. Full disclosure: I don't think Christopher Nolan is a good director. In fact, I think he's absolutely horrendous. Almost all his movies are unwatchable. From a technical standpoint, they're amazing. However, when it comes to story, he's just too cold and removed. There's a complete lack of passion in all of his movies. While Inception had some great visuals and a couple good performances (I could watch Leavitt read from a phone book), it just didn't work overall. One of my biggest problems was the absolute lack of dream logic. Everything was more or less linear. The characters could do a couple things that were out of the ordinary, but for the most part, the dream world was exactly like the real world. Anyone who has had a dream can tell you that even dreams that take place in a relatively "normal" world still have their little quirks that are logically impossible.

When I know that I have to write a dream, I look at a couple different things. First, I refer to my own dream journal. I don't take images from my own dreams, mind you, but I study how they play out and what makes them "dream-like". Next, I'll refer to my small library of Dario Argento movies. I don't think Argento has ever filmed a dream in his movies, but most of them follow a similar dream logic. This is especially true of Suspiria, which most people agree is the closest any director has come to capturing a nightmare on celluloid. The thing I keep in mind is that Argento's goal was not to film a nightmare, but he achieved just that. Take note, dear readers: I love Argento. I admire the man and will frequently refer to him because I'm in awe of his artistic integrity. Also, he was filming strong, intelligent women characters before it was the popular thing to do. But that's another topic for another post.

After my Argento crash course, I turn to surrealist art and Freud's work on dreams. The surrealists drew heavily from Freud's work on dreams, so the two kind of go together. Freud focused on the repressed desires that came out in dreams. And it was a whole hell of a lot more complicated than just everything in your dreams is about sex, which is a common misunderstanding when it comes to Freud's work. Thanks to people wanting to oversimplify every damn thing in the world.

I think what most writers forget to do is to differentiate the dream world from the real world, especially when you're writing fantasy. Also, it's really easy to be lazy when writing a "dream" scene. Most writers will just toss in some weird imagery and let it go. Dreams are much more complex than just three-eyed people or fantastic creatures, what have you. They should be crafted just as carefully as your plot. It's so easy for them to become cliche, especially when they're just written haphazardly.

About half my characters are unable to dream, which is a lot more complicated to write than it sounds. This wasn't an easy out. The characters that can't dream also can't escape into their mind and are forced to live entirely in the present. It's fairly complicated because these particular characters are also constantly alert and planning about twenty steps ahead. Is it any wonder one of them is stark raving mad?

Also, keep in mind that dreams are not flashbacks. Too often writers fall into this trap: in order to give their readers a clue/vital piece of information, they put it in a character's dream. It's so glaringly obvious that it just comes off as sloppy writing. Nothing would be crystal clear in a dream, it would be hidden under layers of symbolism. Why do you think so many people use dream analysis? If it was as simple as "oh, so that's why I'm scared of thunderstorms", those analysts would be out of a job and Freud wouldn't have had any material for one book much less two.

The great thing about dreams is the fact that they don't have to make any sense. You can really unleash your imagination and creativity to construct them. It's a great exercise for writers too: challenge yourself to write some kind of dream scene. Just remember: dreams are usually some kind of repressed desire or conflict, something that the conscious mind might be unaware of.

You know those days when you find out your dance school is run by a hideous witch who has reanimated your dead friend to kill you and you have to kill said witch using nothing more than a glass spike feather from the decorative peacock? Don't you hate those days?

Insomniac Tales

2010-07-26T19:57:00.000-07:00

This post will be rather short and I'm afraid it will probably be quite difficult to follow. I'm currently struggling to keep my head up and my eyes open.

I got maybe a little less than three hours of sleep last night, not uninterrupted. I suffer from the occasional bout of insomnia, which I'm convinced afflicts almost all artists at one point or another during their lives. At least once a month I have a night where sleep just eludes me. It's particularly strange on account of my mind will be tired but my body won't be. If that makes any sense. The longest I've ever gone without sleep is forty-four hours.

I used to try to write during these long sleepless hours, but quickly gave that up when I figured out that I just wrote nonsense that even I could barely understand. I've found the trick is patience. I try to busy myself with meaningless tasks. Sometimes I'll sort names by ethnicity. Other times, when my mind decides that it's just too late at night to form coherent thoughts much less match them to actions, I'll pop a DVD in and watch the extras. My dear reader, you'd be amazed how interesting those DVD extras are when you're running on fumes.

There are times when I'm fully alert, like I just had a shot of caffeine or something. During those rare times, I'll work on lists. I enjoy compiling lists of random things: artists that overcame skeletons in their closets, lonely writers, sufferers of depression, etc. Maybe one night I'll look up a list of people that have suffered from insomnia.

Last night was bad and I'm still feeling the effects now. My body and mind feel like they're out of sync. I haven't gotten any work done today on account of tiredness. I'm having trouble just thinking what to write for this relatively simple blog entry. I feel sick and depressed. I'm making a lot of mistakes while typing this and I'm not typing as quickly as I usually do. This is the worst part of insomnia, the day after. I always have to take a day off because my mind seems to just freeze. That's where the depression comes from. Writing is my joy in life and when it's stripped away, I just feel an encompassing numbness.

Some time last night, I went downstairs and sat in a large recliner beneath a lamp and attempted to read a novel. Unfortunately, sleeplessness robbed me even of this simple pleasure.

This is a rather downbeat posting, I'm afraid. Still, this blog is all about the life and times of a writer. Insomnia is an unfortunate part of my life that I still struggle with. Whether from stress or sickness, sometimes sleep is a luxury that is denied to us.

Hopefully, I'll be more coherent tomorrow. Right now, sleep is calling to me and I believe I shall answer tonight.

Constructive Criticism and Vision

2010-07-25T15:48:00.000-07:00

"Oh, fuck! Not another elf!"

Hugo Dyson, one of Tokien's inner circle, famously moaned that from a sofa while Tolkien was reading a sample of his work to his friends. Yes, even Tolkien's friends didn't like his work. Poor man. Though you must admit, Tokien had the last laugh.

My favorite humor website had an article up today that immediately appealed to me: 6 Great Novels that Were Hated in Their Time. It never fails to amaze me how many classics were essentially hated in their time. I almost hesitate to put the link up because stories like that can sometimes encourage the kind of bullheaded arrogance that I've written about in a previous post. The last thing the literary world needs is another person that won't listen to constructive criticism because "they're the best" and we simpletons just don't understand their vision.

I can sympathize with the writer on this issue because it's incredibly hard to figure out what kind of constructive criticism to accept and what to disregard. You don't want to be a sell-out, but you don't want to be a stubborn idiot either. You need to be careful about what you choose to "fight to the death" for. In the end, you're the writer and it's your story. This means that you have to know why you chose every single word in your novel, short story, poem, etc.

It also helps to see things from the point of view of the person offering the constructive criticism. Tolkien's work was panned partly because he was a linguist by profession. Now while this may seem like it lines right up with writing, it really doesn't. Tolkien belonged to a group that called themselves the Inklings. His friends were all writers and I believe he was the only linguist of the group. Because of this, Tolkien's approach to writing was much different. Unfortunately, we kind of have him to blame for a major problem in the fantasy genre: the grocery list of characters.

Most fantasy writers seem to think that more is better. I'll never forget the time I was reading a book series on the recommendation of a friend. This person didn't tell me it was an erotica series (I don't have a problem with erotica, but I do like to have a heads up about what I'm about to read). However, after a book and a half, I came to the decision that I would never again read any recommendations from this particular person. The writer of this series had a formula and damn if she didn't stick to it ad nauseam: tough chick talk, introduce one supernatural species, heroine sleeps with him, introduce another supernatural species, she sleeps with him, some shooting, more sex. You could have created a drinking game with the repetitiveness of these damn books. I can't caught the amount of times I thought, "Oh fuck! Not another [insert supernatural creature of choice here]!"

This isn't to say that multiple characters don't work, but when you get carried away with it, it becomes incredibly tiresome. If your name isn't "Tolkien" or "Altman", you might want to keep the character count under twenty. You don't want to overwhelm the poor readers.

I think what it comes down to is self-awareness. As a writer, you need to be able to take a step back from your work and think "this isn't reading as well as it could." Of course there are also the writers that prefer to play things too safe and it makes it almost impossible for them to create anything. There are also the times when writers become so fixated on other things that it impedes their ability to write. I know that I find it impossible to write when the house is loud and my house is often very loud.

I was reading an article on Salman Rushdie from the time when he was in hiding today. He mentioned that the hardest thing was learning how to write on the fly. He had become so used to having a personal writing space that when he was constantly being moved, his output just plummeted. Of course, him being a pro, he quickly remedied the situation by starting small and then writing treatments before moving onto to novels. The one I finished, Haroun and the Sea of Stories, was really an amazing read. I'll have to read it at another time when it's not an assignment.

An important part of writing is figuring out how to accept constructive criticism without sacrificing your story. It's a tricky balance, but I can't stress enough how important it is to do. I'm still learning this and I've been writing for years now.

The Pro/Con List, How I Hate It

2010-07-24T16:15:00.000-07:00

A while back, I put out a call for advice concerning submitting to a fairly prestigious magazine. Of course, everyone practically started yelling at me to do it (some a lot more colorfully than others). So I took the next step of creating a list of pros and cons on every completed short story I have. I hate these pro/con lists for a number of reasons. The first being that I always come up with an equal amount of pros and cons for every damn story.

When making a pro/con list, you have to focus on different aspects of the story and be completely honest with yourself. This is a lot tougher than it sounds. For example, I'm currently struggling with whether or not to submit a story that has a very strong plot but an iffy main character. I love this particular main character, but there's a very real chance that she's just not a sympathetic enough person. Jane Austen is famously quoted as saying that she wrote Emma to create a main character that only she would like. Austen had already had a fair amount of success when she wrote that novel, so she could get away with it. As a general rule, if you're just starting out, you have to be a lot more flexible. This doesn't mean you become a writing whore (like Dan Brown), it just means you might have to make certain sacrifices. The first story I ever published, I had to cut out the swearing and shorten it. Since it didn't drastically affect the story I was trying to tell, I readily agreed and did what the editor asked.

Most submissions aren't this difficult, usually only the pro-paying levels. I have narrowed down possible submissions from five to four in the course of a week. One was knocked out because it wasn't done. I'm close to eliminating another due to a kind of clunky plot that needs a ton of work. It's also way too long and I'm going to have to figure out how to trim it down without drastically affecting the story I'm trying to tell, which is proving to be more difficult than expected.

There are two front-runners: both have tight plots, flow rather nicely, and are the perfect length. The thing I'm focusing on right now is how the characters come off. Story #1 has a main character suffering from PTSD. Story #2's main character starts out with trust issues and also develops an eating disorder. Both main characters are unlikable, but I think they're still sympathetic.

Getting a third opinion is the most difficult part of writing, in my opinion. Though that might have to do with my relatively hermit-like life.

I'll keep my readers posted on any further developments with this particular quandary.

*I realize double-posted today. I did this because I was originally going to post the first posting last night but the electricity was rather iffy on account of the storms (it did wind up going out at one point).