waiting...

An agent who recently sold a debut novel written by another teacher for six figures in a pre-empt has asked to look at the first 50 of my new novel Burgess. An editor at Corwin Press has sent out my nonfiction manuscript to their readers to get reactions.

This is a fun part of writing, but it is also a tough part, since there is NOTHING to do right now but wait. Everytime an email comes in, or the phone rings, it could be really cool news or it could be "it really doesn't fit" etc etc.

I coould send out more poetry, or I could work on some short fiction. I could be working on the residency materials for Stonecoast MFA, or at least selecting which sessions I'll attend, but I'm waiting for definitive and official clarification on the whole "the session only counts if it has required reading" issue.

It could be quite a while before I hear anything, a month even, so I have to find something to do other than waiting.

Still, right now the possibilities are endless, so it's a fun time.

The Gargoyle

I've started reading an advance copy of a debut novel by Andrew Davidson titled "The Gargoyle"

It will be hitting bookstore shelves in August 2008 I believe.

I'm not far along, but I'm hooked. I'm really enjoying Davidson's narrative style and story. I think the book is going to do well and will be one of those "everyone is talking about it" titles.

Here's what Sara Gruen said about it: “I was blown away by Andrew Davidson's The Gargoyle. It reminded me of Life of Pi, with its unanswered (and unanswerable) contradictions. A hypnotic, horrifying, astonishing novel that manages, against all odds, to be redemptive."

Here's a product description from the publisher (I think):
"The narrator of The Gargoyle is a very contemporary cynic, physically beautiful and sexually adept, who dwells in the moral vacuum that is modern life. As the book opens, he is driving along a dark road when he is distracted by what seems to be a flight of arrows. He crashes into a ravine and suffers horrible burns over much of his body. As he recovers in a burn ward, undergoing the tortures of the damned, he awaits the day when he can leave the hospital and commit carefully planned suicide—for he is now a monster in appearance as well as in soul. A beautiful and compelling, but clearly unhinged, sculptress of gargoyles by the name of Marianne Engel appears at the foot of his bed and insists that they were once lovers in medieval Germany. In her telling, he was a badly injured mercenary and she was a nun and scribe in the famed monastery of Engelthal who nursed him back to health. As she spins their tale in Scheherazade fashion and relates equally mesmerizing stories of deathless love in Japan, Iceland, Italy, and England, he finds himself drawn back to life—and, finally, in love. He is released into Marianne's care and takes up residence in her huge stone house. But all is not well. For one thing, the pull of his past sins becomes ever more powerful as the morphine he is prescribed becomes ever more addictive. For another, Marianne receives word from God that she has only twenty-seven sculptures left to complete—and her time on earth will be finished."

Anyway...from what I've read so far...I recommend it.

When it rains it pours!

I teach and coach. This takes huge amounts of time. I parent and husband. This takes tons of time. I start my MFA...um, now. This will take huge amounts of time. I just got a call from an editor and it really looks like a book on school reform I've been working on will get picked up. Problem is, I only have 2 chapters written, so writing the rest...will take enormous amounts of time. I'm currently writing another novel...I'm pretty sure I won't have time for it now...

NOW...add to all this that I am HOPELESSLY disorganized. I mean, when I write, I force myself to be organized, but when it comes to managing...you guessed it...my time, I'm a basket case.

So what do I do? I come on here and waste a little time writing this blog.
:-)

I'm open to suggestions from you wise and organized people...

memes

You know, there are so many things that the internet takes over and seems to cheapen.

One of the coolest concepts, one of the best venues for a little mental gymnastics, was the idea of memes.

Way over-simplifying this but memes were to cultural ideas what genes are to biology. Yuck, I hate how that came out, but it's specifically because of how tough the topics of memes or memetics could be that made them fun. It was a thought-forcer.

Whether it was technology or religion or folk songs or whatever else was being passed down, and if those ideas made the recipient more fit, then the idea survived...maybe.

But in recent internet lingo, "meme" is being used as a fancy word for spam.

Here's an internet meme:

1) What's your fav color?
2) What's the weirdest place you've ever read a book?
3) Pass this on to three friends.

If that were in an email, we'd groan. And I'd likely fill it out, because I find those things fun too. I don't mind that kind of spam to be honest, it helps people share and communicate. It gets me to tell people weird stuff about me that I'd never get a chance to, and I learn weird things about others. And let's face it, it's only the weird stuff that makes us worth knowing.

But it's too bad someone started calling them memes. I mean they may very well end up being memes, but only if they get transmitted generation to generation over the next century at least.

So I know this rant was out of left field, but I hope a few of the people who keep using the word "meme" take the time now to look it up and see how cool a word it was before its internet application.

Here's Daniel Dennett on memes. Check it out...

Fort Kent flooding

The town of Fort Kent, Maine where I teach at the local high school is dealing with the highest river levels in 100 years. The schools and the university are closed today. The Fish River which flows into the St. John River has risen to reach the bridge in the photo. Normally, it's a small river covering perhaps a third of the bottom of a deep gully spanned by the bridge. It cuts the town almost in half, and the bridges over it are now closed. As you can see in the photo taken this morning, the gully is now filled with fast moving, ice-cold water.

The St. John River, which is the international boundry with Canada, has risen to the base of a bridge there as well. That bridge is also closed, closing the only border crossing for 20 miles. There is water in Main Street now, parking lots are flooding, and some of the sports fields at the schools are under water. I'm sure there is more, but information coming out of Fort Kent is still spotty and limited. I'm not sure when we'll get back to school as homes and businesses are being evacuated. Hopefuly property losses are not too serious, and let's pray no one gets hurt.

I'll post more as I get it.

SENT

I sent out a proposal for my pedagogical work, I sent out a couple poems to Shenandoah, I sent out 2 query letters on my novel, and I sent out 2 pieces for my workshops at my residency this summer.

Other than that, not much going on.

I tried to write tonight, but instead just ended up frustrated and reading what I had while listening to music.

So, that's the whole post. I'm not going to stretch this out when there's nothing to say and so little sobriety to say it with. haha

I hope I'll get to write tomorrow.

Homework done, book proposal almost

So my first homework assignment is done. I've written and revised two pieces for the workshops during my first Stonecoast residency. They will be in the post tomorrow. I'm eager to hear and read what my workshop-mates think of them, crits and all.

One of the pieces brought back disturbing memories from my time as a print journalist. Odd how we bury those things we think we've properly dealt with. I thought it might be interesting to re-open, and it turned out to be less than a positive experience. Time doesn't heal much; I think instead Time is just a decent anesthetist.

So now I refocus on a book proposal I've almost finished. School is closed this week for April break, so I'll be able to focus on my writing. When I need a break, I've purchased a book titled, "Writing the Sacred into the Real" which is also a bit of homework assigned for the residency. I'll jump into it during the week sometime.

I submitted some poetry to The New Yorker and to a couple contests also, just to keep dipping in the other genres. I'm putting the novel aside while I work on the pedagogical book proposal, but who knows? I can be disciplined enough to write, but I lack discipline when it comes to staying on a single project. I like the salad-bar approach to picking my writing projects. Unless I have a deadline. With my novels, I wrote on average 5-6 hours per day and got them done. With the three novels, I only asked for one deadline extension, it was on book #2 in the series, and I still feel badly about it.

Finding the time...it's the same for everyone. When I was teaching at Noble High School, perhaps in 2004, the AP English teacher had a Writer's Day. Along with some accomplished writers who came from around the area, I was invited, I suppose partly because all I had to do was walk upstairs. I think it was Mike Kimball who asked me, "So you haven't quit your day job?" I hadn't, I was still teaching. I think it was Kimball, he was there, but to be honest there were several people there and maybe it was someone else. Anyway, whoever it was then said I had made the right decision because authors sometimes quit their day jobs too quickly.

Boy was he right. If I had quit my day job expecting a 4th book deal to appear at any time, we would've had to have moved in with friends. My last novel came out in 2006, and I've been trying to sell another ever since. This is partly because I'm trying to break out of the genre I wrote in. I don't read that genre, don't much care for it, but my agent specializes in it. Lucky for me, I wrote under a pen name, and so my real name isn't tied to it. Still, I've considered taking Jake up on the last couple offers. I just don't want to write action/thriller books anymore.

Don't get me wrong, if it meant never writing again, I'd write copy for the back of cereal boxes. Still, I have other stories I want to tell.

Anyone else feel like this? You have stories you need to tell, but it seems the universe only wants to hear the stories you don't care to put together?

So, anyway, in keeping with the stream of conciousness idea for this blog, I've really rambled.
I'll go make a sandwich and come back to the book prop.

Homework

I've got my first homework assignment from Stonecoast MFA! I'm really excited.

I'm submitting two pieces. The first is an excerpt from the pedagogical book I'm writing. It focuses on the idea of teaching students how to think, not just teaching them habits and facts. I'm eager to see what creative thinkers think of my ideas on thinking.

The second piece is a reminiscence covering some of the time I spent as a journalist with a small-town newspaper. This one is coming along more slowly, but I will have it all in the post by April 23.

I also received a list of the writers that have been assigned to the same workshops I have. I don't know any of them, but that too was exciting. These are people with whom I'll be writing and sharing ideas and work for the next two years of school and hopefully beyond.

As others have said, writers are pack animals that spend a huge amount of time alone while working. It's a strange dilemma, but it's true. I sometimes feel especially isolated as a writer because I live so far from even a small city. Still, email and the web have made things much easier, and there are people here that do get excited about the process and product. I'm just eager to meet my new herd. haha.

So, I'm putting away the writing projects I was working on to get these two pieces written and polished, but I'm finding it fun and exciting.

When I need a break, I'll just watch the remaining 6 feet of snow in my yard melt...

Drop me a comment and intro yourself, especially if you'll be at the Stonecoast residency this summer.

Want to write, can only tinker

I sat down this morning wanting to write page after page. Get it down, fix it later. Instead, I find myself in that mode of read and reread what I have already and add to it, fix it, delete portions, spice up the language, kill a discovered cliche, laugh at some dialogue because it stinks...you know the drill.

The manuscript is growing, but in an unorganized, tumorous way. While hopefully the revision work is helping, I wanted the tree to grow at its top, not expand by virtue of additional knots.

I know it's part of the joy of writing, the unexpected surprises, but I am partially posting to this young but neglected blog in the hope that after the break I might return to my manuscript and fill empty white space instead of continuing to tinker with what's already written.

I plan to revise later in the process, not now. I feel as though I'm building my Frankenstein, and I want to construct the skeleton first, then add flesh, just as I've written novels in the past. However, this time I have two nearly completed feet, and nothing else. Bone, muscles, tendons, other connective tissue, some skin even, but still...they're just feet. Now I have to try and build the rest of this thing that matches the feet! Yikes!

Am I rambling? Yup. Stalling again? Yup.

Ok. I'm returning to the novel. The working title is Burgess. We'll see where these feet lead me...

The novel won out

So, yesterday, I spent my time on the novel. The companion piece to my nonfiction work will soon surpass it in number of completed chapters and pages.

I took a look at each outline and the fiction one just seemed more interesting yesterday. Call it a mood thing, I don't know.

So I wrote just over 2000 words yesterday. I know many people write more in a single sitting, but with being home alone with the kids for some of that time, making lunches, etc, I think I did alright.

I also have the never-ending battle with the most snow I've ever seen. The low spots on my "lawn" have maybe 5 feet of snow. Some kids were riding snowmobiles up the piles of snow onto rooftops. No kidding... I will try to get some pics of the snow on here.

I hope to take a warm shower, change into something really writing-comfortable, and get some more work done today.

A Perfect Day for Writing

In northernmost Maine we broke a record overnight.
We have now officially had 183 inches of snow. The record of 181 had stood since the late 1950s.
I say official because the weather station is 50 miles south of me in Caribou, Maine and has less snow than we do here.
With the blizzard continuing to howl outside (I can scarcely see Canada from the window in my den, normally, it is clearly visible) I've decided to curl up around my keyboard and see which book wants to be written in today.
Is it the serious pedagogical book on going back to teaching students to think instead of just teaching them tricks like remembering dates and formulas? Or is it that book's ugly stepbrother, a novel covering the same topic, only showing it instead of telling it?
Of course, by writing this post I am only stalling, and by telling you that I'm stalling, I'm only stalling further...so now I'll go.
In the next post, I'll let you know which book wanted to be written today.

North of Everything

I'm very excited that I've been accepted in the Stonecoast MFA program in Creative Nonfiction.

I've decided to start to blogging to try to have a place to share ideas and experiences, and at the same time create a record.