Day Four in Boston - Sex and Other Playground Activities

Today started off with a few synopsis critiques.  One of those was mine.  At first I did have the run and hide my head in the sand reaction and felt a little upset in the tummy, but as the day progressed, the bit of shame faded and I am actually quite eager to take a nice long look at Celestyn and Alfred and rework the story from different angles.  It would be much more interesting - for instance - if the relationship between them was of a father/son sort, or if the homosexual elements were being manifested as a twisted way to perpetuate Alfred's revenge.  I'm actually pretty damn pumped and I am reminded again of how incredibly vital and wonderful it is to participate in a workshop like this as it floods your story with new possibilities.  Does that sound too cliche?  Tough.Sure it's nice to hear from friends and family that they like your piece, but it't not helpful.  They like it as it is and are afraid to tell you, guide you, show you what it 'could' be.  I was nervous about putting such a genre chapter into the mix but now I'm very glad as it has made me question a good deal many things about my own plot based issues and shortcomings.  I know where I'm strong and I know where I 'want' to be strong and today helped to reinforce that.  There was one thing that struck me as interesting: the faculty member overseeing the workshop asked me about the homosexual element and wanted me to explain why I felt that these two men needed to be together.  It was a fair question considering the time period, setting, and history behind each of them.  However, as the day wore on, I wondered if she would have asked that if one had been a girl.  There doesn't have to be a reason if it's a man and a woman because 'sometimes people just fall in love.'  I wonder if that would have been an acceptable answer to justify a homosexual entanglement born of blood ties and sensual feedings.  Perhaps I'm over thinking this and I most likely am, but it was just something that kept buzzing around my head.  With the story the way it is now, the answer really is that they just happened to fall in love.  But there might be a much different answer in the future and so, in the end, I'm glad she asked that question.

After the workshop I attended a Graduate Lecture on raw material and active imagination.  The woman leading the lecture asked us how many of us still play and I was glad that I could raise my hand high and proud.  This bled into the idea of spontaneity and the use of our subconscious energy.  In a nutshell for a writer: this is when your characters take over!  It was a great lecture that touched on Jungian psychology as well as lucid dreaming and meditation techniques.  I learned that I am a professional day dreamer and I learned that it's natural to have the sense that the character is doing their own thing.  What that means is that you are tapping into your subconscious and allowing it to form in its own way via your character/narrator.  I like letting 'him' or 'her' take control honestly; it makes for richer characters and much more honest interpretations of the world and humanity.

I napped in the student center today and woke up to a commercial for SNHU which boasts a Creative Writing program that takes place completely online.  I cannot fully describe just how utterly horrifying it would be to have followed through with my application to Southern New Hampshire University and to not be here right now, to be stuck in my room without any notion of who my classmates and professors really are.  Anyone considering distance learning should look into low-residency as it allows for a sense of home and family and invigorates rather than frustrates the learning process.  No matter how scared and nervous I was at the thought of undertaking my MFA at Pine Manor College, I honestly can't imagine being anywhere else right now.  Sappy, I know, but I think I've already fallen in love with the program and can't wait to see familiar faces again in June.

During dinner we talked about food and sex.  It all began when a fellow writer imparted to me that eating an oyster is like taking a bite of the ocean, and it's better than sex.  This piqued my interest and it went all downhill from there.  Pretty soon we were talking about the mating habits of slugs and how binge drinking doesn't mix well with seafood.  Also we compared sex to the act of cooking wherein I decided I am premature ejaculator.  I go in, I set up the ingredients, I preheat the oven, I look around and throw up my hands and say "I"M DONE!!!"  And when I'm not prematurely ejaculating, I'm a straight-up sex slave.  Hannah has me in there cutting up onions, bell peppers, and whatever else needs mutilated and then she has me set water on to boil, start the rice, stir the batter, check the cookies, stick a toothpick in the quiche... you know, all the grunt work.  The kitchen is a very sexual and dangerous place and I don't think I'll ever be able to separate sex and cooking in my mind from here on out.  That and the fact that mussels are utterly pornographic.  Yep.

Tonight's faculty readers were wonder as per usual.  A man named Terrance Hayes did a set of poems that really sang to me.  His sensuous voice was easy on the ears and his handsome face and tall frame were very easy on the eyes.  I think I will be adding one of his poetry collections to my list of purchases.  I want to add one of Meg's as well.  The poetry is just so wonderful!  I'd forgotten how utterly gorgeous and precious this art form is to me.