Earlier today, DC hosted both the National Equality March and the Race for the Cure. I knew about the former but not the latter, for which the runners wear pink. So as I drove up Connecticut Avenue today en route to Politics and Prose, I encountered a cadre of people wearing--well, I know now they were pink bunny ears. But the ears were more flesh-colored than pink, and for many one of the ears had flopped down, leaving a proud...erect...um, bunny ear...Let's just say I thought the National Equality March was being a bit brassy.
*
For those interested in such things, Adventureland is a pretty good movie. Maybe its that I have a weak spot for anything that details the life of a carnival; maybe it's that some of the character roles (Martin Starr as Joel, Margarita Levieva as Lisa P.) were drawn with particular skill. The central characters are all older than I expected, post-college instead of post-high school. This was a big plus, as there wasn't a lot of time wasted on the troubles of obtaining alcohol or the perils of making curfew. Unfortunately, our Comcast On Demand system has some quirks that shift the viewing experience. Namely:
Adam: "I thought this was supposed to be a lighthearted comedy."
Me: "Maybe it's funnier when it's not in black and white."
Besides, if you wanted comedy you couldn't beat two SNL all-stars, Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig, in the roles of--oh, my god, amidst typing this I am reading that the actress playing Lisa P. was born in 1985. 1985!
*
I'm worried about October. My favorite month is slipping away from me. So many October rites of passage that I have not yet managed:
-Buying a pumpkin from the Farmer's Market;
-Spiking a cup of hot apple cider with spiced rum;
-Tromping through a pile of leaves in open-toe shoes;
-Road-tripping at least two hours away.
...Yet it's not a good sign when fun traditions become one more thing to stress over, right? That's the challenge of this fall. Finding a schedule of working at home that honors the pleasures of ritual without 1) turning them into routine or, 2) indulging to the point of counter-productivity. Good to have time to read a magazine; bad to feel guilty for being three issues behind on New York. Good to cook from scratch; bad to let one recipe daisy-chain to the next (I have half the cilantro left, washed, chopped...must not waste it) so that you end up with more food than you can (or should) comfortably eat this week. Good to sleep in a half-hour to suit your body's clock; bad to keep hitting the snooze button until it is 11 AM.
No, not expecting your sympathy. Just sayin', nothing is perfect.
October 11, 2009
October 04, 2009
This Thursday!
Join us on Thursday, October 8, as we welcome J. C. Hallman for a dual-genre evening that shows off the breadth of this versatile and acclaimed author. We will hear an excerpt from Hallman's short story collection THE HOSPITAL FOR BAD POETS*; we will also "flirt with the masters" of literary criticism in celebration of his just-released anthology THE STORY ABOUT THE STORY: Great Writers Explore Great Literature.
The reading will begin at 7 PM, and will be followed by our customary light reception and booksigning. It is free and open to all--come, bring a friend, and please help spread the word.
*Also, can we just recognize the sheer awesomeness of the cover design for The Hospital for Bad Poets?
To wit:
Thursday, October 8, 2009 - 7 p.m.
The Arts Club of Washington, 2017 I Street NW
Free and open to the public, reception to follow.
J. C. HALLMAN studied at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and the Writing Seminars at Johns Hopkins, and he has since taught widely. His nonfiction combines memoir, history, journalism, and travelogue; previous books include The Chess Artist and The Devil is a Gentleman. He lives in St. Paul, Minnesota.
THE HOSPITAL FOR BAD POETS (Milkweed Editions), considers the ways in which scholarship and pop culture inform ordinary lives. In the title story, an unnamed poet is taken to Nietzsche's hospital for bad poets after collapsing—and is given Rilke and oxygen to remedy his chronic acuteness. Publisher’s Weekly said “Hallman's clever debut collection … invites the reader into ordinary homes and heads before dropping sly twists of the surreal to examine contemporary culture.”
THE STORY ABOUT THE STORY (Tin House Books) anthologizes writer-on-writer reviews by such luminaries as Woolf and Nabokov in hopes of inspiring a school of “creative criticism.” As Michael Dirda observed, “We read books not from obligation but for pleasure, for mental excitement, for what A.E. Housman called the tingle at the back of the neck…. J. C. Hallman has gathered love letters, exuberant appreciations, confessions of envy and admiration. In these pages some of our finest writers stand up and testify to the power of literature to shake and shape our very souls.”THE ARTS CLUB OF WASHINGTON is at 2017 I Street NW, near Foggy Bottom/GWU and Farragut West metro. Headquartered in the James Monroe House, a National Historic Landmark, the Club was founded in 1916 and is the oldest non-profit arts organization in the city. The Club’s mission is to foster public appreciation for the arts through educational programs that include literary events, art exhibitions, musical and theatrical performances.
Tear It Down
If I owe you something--an email, a call, a kidney for transplant--I am sorry. For the last two weeks I have been doing battle with an article that, for lack of better phrasing, has been kicking my ass. This will be the third rewrite, each time approaching the topic from a totally different angle that requires fresh research. The good news: if all goes well, it will be a chance to pay tribute to one of my favorite DC landmarks in the pages of the (newly revamped) Post Magazine. The bad news: my writerly ego has taken a hit. It's been a while since I heard that something written to order was, well, unusable.
Friends in journalism tell me that this is simply how it goes. Editors change their minds. Stories break that change your story, and can't be anticipated. You go into a real-world scenario thinking your reportage will give you one angle, only to have it bank in another direction entirely. You build it, you tear it down (or someone triggers the TNT for you), and you build it up again. I'd been sheltered from this because the XX Files were more in the vein of creative nonfiction that just happened to appear in a newspaper, versus newspaper writing.
When I was in graduate school at American University, we had an infamous incident in which a well-known Visiting Writer guest-led a workshop that was looking at, among other things, a chapter from the novel of a popular student in the program. Within the first three minutes of the workshop--atom bomb dropping--the Visiting Writer announced that the author simply had to change POV if the piece was ever going to work. This is not a short story we were talking about; this was 200 pages of polished thesis manuscript.
Once the workshop was over, everyone told the author that the Visiting Writer had been snobby and obnoxious, and that he should disregard her critique. We pointed to her sloppy handle on the story's details (keeping character's names straight, etc.) as evidence that she'd probably barely read it. The student kept his POV and, happy ending, the book was published a short while later.
We had good reason to respond the way we did. But, let's face it, we would have responded that way even if we HADN'T had good reason. We have an a perverse loyalty to our prose in the creative nonfiction world; we are quick to rationalize logical gaps or emotional ambiguities as part of honoring the "truth" of the experience, or as part of a stylistic tic. I am coming to realize that this defensive posture is not sustainable in journalism or freelancing. In that world you have to be willing to tear it down, even if that means wasting thousands of words.
Although I think the Visiting Writer probably did give the MS a too-cursory read, I don't see how that differs from the glance of most editors or agents sifting through a slush pile. Just because she was obnoxious didn't mean she was wrong. The harshest truth: just because the novel was published as it was doesn't mean it wouldn't have been a better novel if it had used another perspective.
Growing pains. They suck. But you get to stand a little taller afterwards.
Mark your calendars, if you live in the DC area: this THURSDAY (October 8) I am hosting a supercool reading at the Arts Club of Washington with J. C. Hallman. More tomorrow!
Friends in journalism tell me that this is simply how it goes. Editors change their minds. Stories break that change your story, and can't be anticipated. You go into a real-world scenario thinking your reportage will give you one angle, only to have it bank in another direction entirely. You build it, you tear it down (or someone triggers the TNT for you), and you build it up again. I'd been sheltered from this because the XX Files were more in the vein of creative nonfiction that just happened to appear in a newspaper, versus newspaper writing.
When I was in graduate school at American University, we had an infamous incident in which a well-known Visiting Writer guest-led a workshop that was looking at, among other things, a chapter from the novel of a popular student in the program. Within the first three minutes of the workshop--atom bomb dropping--the Visiting Writer announced that the author simply had to change POV if the piece was ever going to work. This is not a short story we were talking about; this was 200 pages of polished thesis manuscript.
Once the workshop was over, everyone told the author that the Visiting Writer had been snobby and obnoxious, and that he should disregard her critique. We pointed to her sloppy handle on the story's details (keeping character's names straight, etc.) as evidence that she'd probably barely read it. The student kept his POV and, happy ending, the book was published a short while later.
We had good reason to respond the way we did. But, let's face it, we would have responded that way even if we HADN'T had good reason. We have an a perverse loyalty to our prose in the creative nonfiction world; we are quick to rationalize logical gaps or emotional ambiguities as part of honoring the "truth" of the experience, or as part of a stylistic tic. I am coming to realize that this defensive posture is not sustainable in journalism or freelancing. In that world you have to be willing to tear it down, even if that means wasting thousands of words.
Although I think the Visiting Writer probably did give the MS a too-cursory read, I don't see how that differs from the glance of most editors or agents sifting through a slush pile. Just because she was obnoxious didn't mean she was wrong. The harshest truth: just because the novel was published as it was doesn't mean it wouldn't have been a better novel if it had used another perspective.
Growing pains. They suck. But you get to stand a little taller afterwards.
Mark your calendars, if you live in the DC area: this THURSDAY (October 8) I am hosting a supercool reading at the Arts Club of Washington with J. C. Hallman. More tomorrow!
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