Hilary Mantel's Method
Hilary Mantel describes how she works on a novel.
"• Become a magpie. Collect anything that attracts you: images, phrases, little glimpses, footnotes from books ... Cut them out if you can, record them on blank postcards, scribble them in a notebook.
• At some point you will discover some titbit that feels like the seed of a new novel. Tantalisingly, this will occur while you are in the middle of a completely different novel."
The rest is here.
Friday
An update on the author photo
My friend Katy thinks I should incorporate a smoking dog in my author photo, if possible.
Thursday
And you thought rejection was bad
Sometimes reviews are worse.
"Has M. Night Shyamalan lost his goddamn mind?
That's the only logical excuse for Lady in the Water, the Philly-based writer/director/egomaniac's convulsive seizure of narcissism that's so nakedly personal—and also so unintentionally, hilariously revealing—watching the movie feels a bit like walking in on your roommate while he's masturbating … to a picture of himself."
Ouch.
In related news, Kevin Smith confronts Joel Siegel, a critic who walked out of a screening of Clerks II.
Sometimes reviews are worse.
"Has M. Night Shyamalan lost his goddamn mind?
That's the only logical excuse for Lady in the Water, the Philly-based writer/director/egomaniac's convulsive seizure of narcissism that's so nakedly personal—and also so unintentionally, hilariously revealing—watching the movie feels a bit like walking in on your roommate while he's masturbating … to a picture of himself."
Ouch.
In related news, Kevin Smith confronts Joel Siegel, a critic who walked out of a screening of Clerks II.
Wednesday
A little book nerd humor
Note: I'm calling myself the book nerd. I found this author photo breakdown amusing. One of my favorites? "I hate to break it to Ellroy, but the chair-peeing dog is definitely dominating this photo."
Also, "Miss Anne looks like she's doing that yoga pose. What's it called again? Eagle. At any rate, it's miles better than that one of her slouching on a file cabinet, looking all scoliosised."
If I'm ever lucky enough to have an author photo of my own, I would like to do a combination of this and this. Reclining with a cigar. Maybe throw a dog in there somewhere. Just because I think it would be funny.
Note: I'm calling myself the book nerd. I found this author photo breakdown amusing. One of my favorites? "I hate to break it to Ellroy, but the chair-peeing dog is definitely dominating this photo."
Also, "Miss Anne looks like she's doing that yoga pose. What's it called again? Eagle. At any rate, it's miles better than that one of her slouching on a file cabinet, looking all scoliosised."
If I'm ever lucky enough to have an author photo of my own, I would like to do a combination of this and this. Reclining with a cigar. Maybe throw a dog in there somewhere. Just because I think it would be funny.
Tuesday
The Living Dead
I read this quote today:
"That I had hidden it for the eternity of my death in a Jewish place, a tomb I held sacred, the vast, fathomless tomb off-limits to traitors, those living dead of the fundamental betrayal."
It's an excerpt from Yann Andrea Steiner.
I don't know what Marguerite Duras means by "a Jewish place." I'm curious about that phrase because I can only guess at her meaning. As I was reading the excerpt, a phrase stuck with me, the "living dead of the fundamental betrayal." And to be honest, I feel foolish about writing this at all because some of the things Duras is writing about include the Holocaust, murder, and the cruelty of men and women. What I'm talking is miniscule compared to that. But I'll put it down anyway because that's what writing does. One person's writing, a phrase or an image, can make you think about your life or an idea, and influence or inspire you in a different direction. And even though what I'm talking about is not on the same level, it's what came to mind when I read the "living dead of the fundamental betrayal."
I tend to cut off people from my past, people I feel have betrayed me in some way. Maybe they cheated or lied or failed me in some fundamental way at a time when I really needed them. There have been various reasons. One of these old friends called me in the middle of the night once when I was in college. True to fashion, I was up late finishing a paper that was due the next day. I kept telling him I couldn't talk right at that moment because I had to finish this assignment. It was due early the next morning and I swore I'd call him back. I think we ended up hashing things out that night.
Essentially, he was angry with me because I'd ended our friendship after several erratic and scary interactions we'd had while he was on drugs. He was my boyfriend-at-the-time's friend and had hit on me. He had lashed out at me a few times. He had paced outside my window one night doing whippets and muttering strange things when I was alone at home. He had an outburst in a grocery store that caused him and my boyfriend-at-the-time to be escorted out of the store by security. There was a long list of uncomfortable behavior.
I cut him off.
I told my boyfriend I was done with his friend. So the friend was angry and hurt (and no doubt on some pharmaceutical) when he called me at 3 in the morning demanding I explain what I was doing ending my friendship with him with no discussion. I can't remember what he said exactly, but he said I did this all the time. When someone disappointed me, I didn't give second chances. He listed examples. He said I wasn't a true friend if I couldn't overlook people's flaws and forgive them.
I thought he had some good points. Everything he said was true. But everything I said was true, too. I didn't like worrying every time I hung out with him, especially if we were in a public place, that he would have an outburst. I didn't appreciate being propositioned at random times or being groped. I didn't like being yelled at.
But I've been thinking about that conversation lately. Should I have tried to help him more? Should I have staged an intervention? Should I have called his parents and told them about his out of control drug use? Should I have been a friend to him despite his increasingly erratic behavior?
It's true I don't give many second chances. I've been trying to figure out why this is. I'm curious about my own motivations. Is it to protect myself? Is it a lack of patience (I think this might have a lot to do with it; I'm impatient about a lot of things)? I think there could be many different reasons, and often are specific to the friendship or situation. But I've been wondering about the "living dead" from my own past lately.
I was chatting with my friend Katy today about this. For me, a serious hurt or betrayal sort of "flips a switch." After the event, I feel differently about the person and I can't go back. I've been thinking about this a lot because I married someone who isn't that way at all. Much more forgiving, much more willing to give second chances, and, generally speaking, a much kinder person.
Maybe that's why we married each other?
I read this quote today:
"That I had hidden it for the eternity of my death in a Jewish place, a tomb I held sacred, the vast, fathomless tomb off-limits to traitors, those living dead of the fundamental betrayal."
It's an excerpt from Yann Andrea Steiner.
I don't know what Marguerite Duras means by "a Jewish place." I'm curious about that phrase because I can only guess at her meaning. As I was reading the excerpt, a phrase stuck with me, the "living dead of the fundamental betrayal." And to be honest, I feel foolish about writing this at all because some of the things Duras is writing about include the Holocaust, murder, and the cruelty of men and women. What I'm talking is miniscule compared to that. But I'll put it down anyway because that's what writing does. One person's writing, a phrase or an image, can make you think about your life or an idea, and influence or inspire you in a different direction. And even though what I'm talking about is not on the same level, it's what came to mind when I read the "living dead of the fundamental betrayal."
I tend to cut off people from my past, people I feel have betrayed me in some way. Maybe they cheated or lied or failed me in some fundamental way at a time when I really needed them. There have been various reasons. One of these old friends called me in the middle of the night once when I was in college. True to fashion, I was up late finishing a paper that was due the next day. I kept telling him I couldn't talk right at that moment because I had to finish this assignment. It was due early the next morning and I swore I'd call him back. I think we ended up hashing things out that night.
Essentially, he was angry with me because I'd ended our friendship after several erratic and scary interactions we'd had while he was on drugs. He was my boyfriend-at-the-time's friend and had hit on me. He had lashed out at me a few times. He had paced outside my window one night doing whippets and muttering strange things when I was alone at home. He had an outburst in a grocery store that caused him and my boyfriend-at-the-time to be escorted out of the store by security. There was a long list of uncomfortable behavior.
I cut him off.
I told my boyfriend I was done with his friend. So the friend was angry and hurt (and no doubt on some pharmaceutical) when he called me at 3 in the morning demanding I explain what I was doing ending my friendship with him with no discussion. I can't remember what he said exactly, but he said I did this all the time. When someone disappointed me, I didn't give second chances. He listed examples. He said I wasn't a true friend if I couldn't overlook people's flaws and forgive them.
I thought he had some good points. Everything he said was true. But everything I said was true, too. I didn't like worrying every time I hung out with him, especially if we were in a public place, that he would have an outburst. I didn't appreciate being propositioned at random times or being groped. I didn't like being yelled at.
But I've been thinking about that conversation lately. Should I have tried to help him more? Should I have staged an intervention? Should I have called his parents and told them about his out of control drug use? Should I have been a friend to him despite his increasingly erratic behavior?
It's true I don't give many second chances. I've been trying to figure out why this is. I'm curious about my own motivations. Is it to protect myself? Is it a lack of patience (I think this might have a lot to do with it; I'm impatient about a lot of things)? I think there could be many different reasons, and often are specific to the friendship or situation. But I've been wondering about the "living dead" from my own past lately.
I was chatting with my friend Katy today about this. For me, a serious hurt or betrayal sort of "flips a switch." After the event, I feel differently about the person and I can't go back. I've been thinking about this a lot because I married someone who isn't that way at all. Much more forgiving, much more willing to give second chances, and, generally speaking, a much kinder person.
Maybe that's why we married each other?
Friday
Chef Stuck in Beruit
Last spring I read Kitchen Confidential by chef Anthony Bourdain. According to the New York Post, the chef was in Beruit shooting a segment for his Travel Channel series. Now he's stuck there after the Israelis bombed the international (civilian) airport. He says, "They're bombing right now in southern Beirut. I can hear the explosions. The thing is, the people here are really, really nice and totally embarrassed by Hezbollah and horrified by the bombings."
The rest is at the Post.
Last spring I read Kitchen Confidential by chef Anthony Bourdain. According to the New York Post, the chef was in Beruit shooting a segment for his Travel Channel series. Now he's stuck there after the Israelis bombed the international (civilian) airport. He says, "They're bombing right now in southern Beirut. I can hear the explosions. The thing is, the people here are really, really nice and totally embarrassed by Hezbollah and horrified by the bombings."
The rest is at the Post.
Eerie
I've been reading a book called Almanac of the Dead by Leslie Marmon Silko. The book was published in 1991 and I think it took her ten years to write, so it would have been written somewhere between 1980 and 1990. It's eerie how many things she writes about are still so applicable today. Tensions in the Mideast, Aids, mass migrations, bloodshed in Africa, U.S.-Mexico border tensions, race riots, etc. Eerie, or it shows how little changes in the world.
Thursday
Inside Gaza
"Most Gazans also believe that Israel's latest assault was pre-planned, that the soldier's capture is merely a trigger. Israel dropped thousands of shells on Gaza, killing women, children and old people, long before his capture. This time, Israel attacked Gaza within hours of a national consensus accord signed by Fatah and Hamas, which could have led to negotiations between Palestinians and Israelis. That would have pushed Israel to give up control of Palestinian land and resources. Gazans believe that the goal of Israel's military campaign is the destruction of both our elected government and our infrastructure, and with it our will to secure our national rights."
You can read some more of Mona El-Farra's thoughts here.
I've been trying to read what others think about conflicts like these. I don't want to hear the perspectives of only the U.S. and our allies. The whole situation is desperately sad.
"Most Gazans also believe that Israel's latest assault was pre-planned, that the soldier's capture is merely a trigger. Israel dropped thousands of shells on Gaza, killing women, children and old people, long before his capture. This time, Israel attacked Gaza within hours of a national consensus accord signed by Fatah and Hamas, which could have led to negotiations between Palestinians and Israelis. That would have pushed Israel to give up control of Palestinian land and resources. Gazans believe that the goal of Israel's military campaign is the destruction of both our elected government and our infrastructure, and with it our will to secure our national rights."
You can read some more of Mona El-Farra's thoughts here.
I've been trying to read what others think about conflicts like these. I don't want to hear the perspectives of only the U.S. and our allies. The whole situation is desperately sad.
Friday
Dreams
I had an interesting dream this morning, just before my alarm went off. I had a long, catch-up conversation with two old friends I've known since elementary school but haven't seen in more than ten years. I told them I had married, one of them said he was married, the other said he was married and divorced. In my dream, I think he said, "I was married for about half an hour." Also, one of them had just gotten out of the hospital after a surgery. So odd, when you dream of people you haven't seen or thought of in years, especially when you wake up and truly feel as though you just had an in-depth conversation with them. Made me wonder where they are in the world and how things are going for them.
I had an interesting dream this morning, just before my alarm went off. I had a long, catch-up conversation with two old friends I've known since elementary school but haven't seen in more than ten years. I told them I had married, one of them said he was married, the other said he was married and divorced. In my dream, I think he said, "I was married for about half an hour." Also, one of them had just gotten out of the hospital after a surgery. So odd, when you dream of people you haven't seen or thought of in years, especially when you wake up and truly feel as though you just had an in-depth conversation with them. Made me wonder where they are in the world and how things are going for them.
Thursday
Great Description of the Writing Life
Dagoberto Gilb says:
"Writing is a permanent flu — it hits you, you have no control of it. Its symptoms are: Light-headed, feverish daydreaming about writing while at a paying job that you get fired from; gut-wrenching dread of having a worthless, unemployable life while writing one paragraph in two hours for a piece that you may (or may not if it's lousy, which it often is), after you have lots and lots and lots of paragraphs, a hundred or two dollars; finally, and even worse, a hallucinogenic-like bloodrush when something you have written is accepted — this delusional exhilaration can affect personality for many troubled years, even when the only other person to have read it and believed in you and this work, momentarily, was your one and only love (not even your mom will have been impressed), the one you shouldn't have let get away, but she now dismisses you because you're such a financial loser."
The rest of the interview is here.
Here is my situation. We are extremely busy at work. Summer is one of our crunch times. At night, I'm trying to work on a time-consuming and challenging freelance assignment that's due sometime in the next two weeks. (The deadline is "mid-July," and a non-definite deadline is awful for a procrastinator like me.) And the novel is in an interesting phase. Revised enough to be readable by outsiders and a few of my friends have read it. I've been told it reads like "a real book." I've had a few good tweaking suggestions, as well as some typos that eagle-eyed friends have caught. All in all, I'd say I have about two-three days of work to get it to the next stage, which is sending it out. And that's where my problem lies.
Until after "mid-July," I do not have the two or three days I would need to finish. Mentally, I know this is fine. What's a couple of weeks after years of writing? But not working on the book is bugging the righteous holy hell out of me. I am in a weird "what am I doing with my life" mood which always happens if I haven't been writing enough or working on my own projects. I get crabby, cranky, restless. I'm listening to Leonard Cohen, if that gives you insight into the funk I'm describing. And I love me some Leonard Cohen, but I keep reminding myself: jus be patient. Because as soon as I'm done with the freelance gig, I can turn the gas on with my own stuff. Unless, of course, I procrastinate, which I have been known to do.
The most hilarious aspect of this situation is that the agent who has expressed interest in my book is getting married in late July. Then she's going on her honeymoon. So realistically, it would be foolish to send it to her before mid-to-late August anyway. Yet, I continue to torture myself. I think writing is the like the flu. Or perhaps like mooning after your long-lost love, the one you must continue to follow and stalk, long after you have humiliated yourself, long after there's no hope, and long after anyone with any kind of sense would have said "just give it a rest already."