Day Nine in Boston - In Medias Res

Today was fantastically unlike the last two.  My piece was the last to be workshopped and during the course of nit-picking (and, hey, I'm glad that it was whole enough to even get to the point of nit-picking) my hilarious overuse of participle phrases and my love affair with adverbs, we all burst into laughter, some of us to the point of tears.  Sandra even acted out a few of my crazily constructed sentences by means of showing me how they actually read and to keep me mindful of them.  I giggled and informed her that 'yes,' the piece was actually meant to be viewed as an awkward dance, which is, honestly, what it sounds like based on my silly sentence starts.  It was wonderful to laugh and shoot the shit today.  Sandra even showed us some of her art (she's quite the little painter) and some of it was just gorgeous.  I would buy the tree painting in a heartbeat. Also we learned that grey is the British way to spell the color, while gray is the American way.  This is good to know since I have habitually shifted between the two spellings since I was old enough to write.  The rest of workshop was filled with talk of scene construction and various other elements that play a key role in developing a narrative and tomorrow we will continue this conversation.

The class today was an introduction to pedagogy.  While I have some experience in teaching, tutoring, and leading lessons, I have had no academic instruction on the teaching of writing composition and it was kind of an eye opening class for me.  I am nervous but terribly excited to really get a chance to live with the material and even discuss it with my mother (a teacher) and really let some of the methodologies and approaches bloom in my mind.

After the class I had a meeting with my mentor.  It was good to talk to him.  I was able to explain a little bit more about the vampire thing I'm working on, highlighting the fact that the 'vampirism' in the novel is nothing more than a vehicle to allow me to explore the effects of disabling victimization.  He was great about it, telling me that the most important thing is the 'like/love' what I'm writing otherwise there was no way in hell I was going to get anywhere on my accumulative creative thesis.  For that, however, I think I would still really like to explore a semi-Dystopian (if not full out bat shit insane) setting.  It seems to be gearing up to be a YA novel, but I'm not going to think about any of that while I write it.  In the end I want to get a crap load of good pages (perfectly fantastic pages) and win my mentor over with my prose.  I want him to really root for me as a student and as an author.  Today gave me some hope and we already have a semester plan (deadlines) set up for the next six months.  I am going to be one busy bunny.  I have at least eleven novels to read, about ten critical theses to write, five artist statements to produce, responses to generate, and somewhere in the neighborhood of 150 pages to write toward a novel.  Or at least, that is the general idea.  There will be a great deal of revision in all of that, as well as several bouts of tears.  And yet I say, bring it on!  This is just the sort of thing I need to kick my ass into gear and I am sickly delighted to comprehend the large workload. 

The day is not yet over, hence the in medias res in the title.  Tonight there is a meeting for all those taking the pedagogical track and soon after we will be attending the final faculty reading of the Winter Residency 2013.  There are only two readers tonight, one of them being my mentor.  For now, I leave you with one of the many songs that have been stuck in my head today (no, it's not "Hey there, Cthulhu" those that has definitely been on the tip of my tongue since workshop this morning).  In keeping with the Dystopian theme that has become my life, please enjoy David Bowie's "Fantastic Voyage."

Day Eight in Boston - Huff and Wearing Down

This morning's workshop was much better than yesterday.  For the most part.  There was no direct battering and I made sure to sit my happy ass as far away as I could, not because I am afraid to sit next to her, but so that she could see me the whole time and I wouldn't be tempted to make sad or perturbed faces should I be run over or electrocuted with her curt and, at times, rude approach.   A few of the other students say she has a 'nurturing toughness' while another finds great enjoyment at her 'bluntness' (especially, he added, when it comes to her cock-blocking everything I say).  I, however, find her approach to be a perfect example of what Director, Meg Kearney, says not to do.  Meg reminds us that when tempers and emotions get all riled up, you have the choice of taking the compassionate route or the 'intelligent' route and in these cases you should always choose compassion because intelligence will naturally follow.  Our workshop leader is definitely intelligent.  I am learning things from her.  Mostly I am learning how 'she' writes 'her' novels.  This is not bad information but I hazard to say that there is very little I will be taking away from her workshop sessions aside from the idea of disequilibrium (which I do love) and a strong desire to scream at the top of my lungs.  This is harsh.  But so is she.

Moving on.  I attended two absolutely fabulous classes today.  The first of those was a class on creating character led by Julia Glass, who I do believe may just be my literary soul mate.  Her humor was understated and adorable, her writing process was a near mirror image of mine, and it was perfected (if one can perfect the chaos of writing) in a way that I hope to someday achieve.  Everything she said today made perfect sense.  I bought her book and when she signed it, I told her that her class felt like good food that I hadn't had in a while.  Made me feel full.  

After the character class I hurried over to attend Kathy Aguero's class on 'Changing Lives through Literature.'  This program is amazing and I actually think I would like to get involved in it either before or after I graduate.  It's typically called the 'club med' of lit teaching because you get to talk about books all day and lead conversations and activities concerning those books but you don't have to grade any homework at the end of the day.  What follows is a snippet of information from the website.  Hopefully it will give you a clear idea of what the program is all about:

The Philosophy behind Changing Lives Through Literature

Changing Lives Through Literature is based on the idea that literature has the power to transform. Although it sounds simple - it's essentially a reading group that meets over a period of weeks and that is attended by an instructor, probation officer, judge, and students - CLTL has the ability to allow us to make connections with the characters or ideas in a text and to rethink our own behavior. The phrase "Changing Lives" may sound grandiose and, in a way, it is. This program can be the first step toward permanent change or an additional step on the path to a new way of being in the world. CLTL contends that through literature, we can more deeply understand ourselves and our human condition. But what is it about literature that allows this to occur? And why do many of us who are involved with CLTL feel that it is one of the most underused tools in the criminal justice system?

Today, I found out who my mentor is going to be.  It's not Sandra (and honestly I think she would be a fantastic person for mentoring regardless of my feelings surrounding her workshops).  It is Steven Huff, who is fabled to be a gentle man who fosters your creativity while guiding you through your mistakes in such a way as to make you unable to be sad or upset during the grueling revision process.  He had me sit with him today for a moment and asked what I was working on - what I liked to write.  I told him I like speculative fiction and that I want to work on a Dystopian novel.  Then I told him I also write short stories.  And then... I used the 'V' word.  Not vagina, no, much worse: Vampire.  And he stuck out his tongue in disgust and my face heated up and I shrugged it away like 'yeah, you're right, it's dumb, I'll stop.'  I'm meeting with him tomorrow to discuss reading lists and other important pre-semester planning.  I don't know that there's any way to salvage my 'street-cred' so I'm thinking of bringing a copy of the preface and first chapter or two of the vampire novel.  Maybe he can read it or gloss over it and see that it's not 'about' a vampire.  It's about a wealthy, well-to-do man during the Great Depression who just happens to be a vampire.  I have actually been considering changing it up a little and making him into some other supernatural creature that is further and further from 'Dracula' but that decision would have to come from a need to make the novel better not because of someone else's preferences.

On a lighter note, I was totally outed as a pegasister today.  During Julia's class, a graduating poet took the podium to read a snippet from one of her assignments and I noticed his very cute MLP button tacked right there on his breast.  I stared at it the entire time and later that day he casually told me that he liked my facebook profile picture, which is, of course, the studious bespectacled Pinkie Pie.  An immediate connection was made.  He introduced me to another of our kind and we talked and giggled about My Little Pony and the voice actresses and how it's somehow breached the gender gap in children/young adult animated entertainment.  It was fun and refreshing to be a total Brony for a few minutes.

Day Seven in Boston - Convoluted Time and Shutting Up

Day Six of the Residency.  I find myself pondering the  magical and relative nature of time.  As the Good Doctor said: "... from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint - it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly... time-y wimey... stuff."  I've been here only seven days and six of those have been spent going to workshops, meeting and fostering relationships with fellow writers, attending lectures, zipping in and out of the cafeteria and various bathrooms, pouncing on naps, putting dibs on showers, waking early, waking late, but always waking in time.  Time.  Only six days and it feels like a month.  A good month.  That is why today, after workshop and lunch, I took a four hour nap.  It was glorious and further disrupted my concept of time and rhythm while stealing precious little moments which I could have put to better use, but didn't and will never get back, but that is just life and, do I regret my nap?  No.  I do not.

This morning's workshop was interesting.  Sandra is indeed a 'tough one' and she even told us that she knew we'd all been warned of this trait.  Owning up to it doesn't make her seem less scary.  For about three hours I sat there, frightened to say anything.  The first time I spoke, it was to tell her of my love for Robert E. Howard.  First of all, she doesn't like that I don't have a contemporary author to fan-girl over and second of all, she didn't like that I gushed over his brilliance without giving her a taste of 'what he writes like.'  I thought my explanation of his fight scenes coming from his own personal experience was some sort of indication, but apparently I was wrong.  Then, because I thought she wanted us to be succinct in our answers, I spoke quickly and briefly of 'observations' that I'd made in the first piece for workshop.  This resulted in her telling me that I couldn't just say 'word play' because it didn't mean anything in relation to the piece, and also that I had to slow down and give multiple examples of tense shifts.  I thought I'd be giving those examples later... when I was allowed to talk.   She talked about trying to give the workshop piece plot and said she had no idea how one might do that.  People made little suggestions.  I made a suggestion and was told that my suggestion worked as a perfect example of what never to do.  She said that I was imposing my own creativity onto the piece.  I thought I was brainstorming.  My bad.  The next time I spoke it was in relation to a character's motivation and she told me that I was reading way too much into things and that I shouldn't try to psychoanalyze.  So I kept quiet for a while.  And then she asked us to think of something that would put a character in a state of disequilibrium (and I love that she used this word!) and so I gave her my example after everyone else had gone and it was sort of expected of me to talk.  She pretty much rolled her eyes and said "Oh, dear God."  By the time workshop was over I had learned... a few things (mainly I learned that I like the idea of disequilibrium) about writing.  The real lesson, however, was 'you're comments are not necessary.'  I'm fine with this.  I am perfectly happy to sit back and listen and jot down notes.  And I wouldn't even mind having her for a mentor (as that is very possible at this point), but what troubles me is the disregard.  I felt fairly humiliated.  Which is why I went and took a four hour nap.  The world is clearer now and I know that I will be able to keep my mouth shut tomorrow.  I will avoid giving her the option to belittle me and in that I will be able to take in her lessons more readily.  She is hard, but I am very excited to learn from her.  The fact that she left a bitter imprint on me this first day leads me to believe that, in the end, she may well become one of my favorites since I'm drawn to hard asses and challengers.

Something else I learned today, from conversation concerning the piece I read for the student reading yesterday, was that I come off very strongly as a writer of YA fiction.   My characters (many of them, it seems) have all the makings for the ideal, youthful protagonists that we find in stories such as The Drowned Cities, The Bartimaeus Trilogy, Harry Potter, and others.  This is not to say that my writing is anywhere near as fascinating, exciting, or sculpted as the aforementioned works, but that perhaps my characters would be happier in worlds meant for a 12-18 audience.  I don't know.  It's an option.  I can focus on YA next semester if I choose, but I think that depends a great deal on new pieces and my handling of them.

Tonight's readings were excellent.  Kathy Aguero, one of three wonderful authors to share their work, read an excerpt from a story talking about dealing with a parent growing old and succumbing to Alzheimer's.  It was absolutely beautiful and the juxtaposition between infants (and children) and the elderly has never been drawn so perfectly.  I turned to Marilyn after the reading and told her that everyone who works in health care should read this story because it paints a whole new perspective on what is really going on within the minds of those that we discount as lost.  Just gorgeous.

Day Six in Boston - Magic Nipple Nerve

Last day of working with Venise Berry in workshops went very well and I actually managed to pump out a few good lines for that Dystopian piece I've been playing at starting.  After we did some exercises and said our sad goodbyes to our fearless workshop leader, the day progressed to lunch and then a fantastic Starbuck's date with fellow writer/grad student, Marilyn.  We discussed everything from dirty angel sex to YA novels to Harry Potter to Magic Realism.  There were other topics as well and by the time we left I'm sure the young woman sitting near us was probably frightened.  When we returned to campus we buzzed right on over to enjoy Randal Kenan's class on Magical Realism.  I learned a great deal and mainly I learned that this genre completely eludes me as a writer.  As a reader, however, I find it quite fascinating and eye-opening.

The student reading tonight went very well!  It was really neat hearing bits and pieces of poetry and prose from everyone.  I stayed within my two minute limit, got some good laughs, and several high-fives.  It was nerve-wracking leading up to it, but very rewarding in the end.  Afterward, I went to McDonald's with Marilyn (we just seriously needed off campus for a little while as we were feeling cabin fever pretty strongly) and we continued our discussions on life and other things.  We discussed the vital importance of research when writing about other cultures and places and talked about how old we had perceived the other to be via our writing and how very wrong we were in the end; she thought I was nearing or in my forties based on my style and I had thought her to be much younger than me based on her content which has such a youthful, fun feel to it.

This time when we returned to campus we went to the President's Dining Room for the advertised movie night.  Well, as it turned out pretty much everyone in the program went to the Cheesecake Factory for dinner leaving only Marilyn, myself and Von, one of our fantastic poets, in attendance. Since the DVD for the planned movie "The Ballad of the Sad Cafe" was cracked beyond repair, we scanned Netflix and finally found a different Magical Realism film "Like Water for Chocolate" and watched it on the projector screen while gathered close to the computer as we had to make due with the little laptop's speakers for sound.  It was actually pretty damn cool and I felt closer to Marilyn and Von after watching such surreal craziness (my favorite part has to be, without a doubt, the part where she eats matches one by one).

Back at the dorms, there was a barrage of intimate and odd story telling including a personal anecdote involving a certain sexual instrument getting stuck in a certain sexual hole, as well as the dangers of nipple piercing.  Apparently its possible to pull a nipple nerve right on out of your areola.  Yeah, retyping that just now made me cringe.  Onto less upsetting topics: tomorrow is our first day working with Sandra Scofield and from what I've heard she's a tough one.  I say bring it on, but I say it quietly... from a corner... in a different room.  I don't know that I want to have a new one ripped into me just yet, but if the last workshop is any indication, then it can only end well.  Right?

Day Five in Boston - Cock and Kenan

I had my official workshop - for the actual text - today and it went very well.  We looked at my piece as well as several others.  At the end of the workshop they give you back their copy of your story and you can look over their notes and questions at your leisure.  Well, after lunch and a class on archetypes (fabulous, by the way), I did just that.  Some comments and 'smiling faces' made me blush and then I came across my 'Solstice Buddy's copy and she'd not only underlined and numbered every sexual innuendo and inference in the piece, she also circled the word 'cock' and wrote, 'I so wasn't ready for that!'  Apparently the cock came off a bit strong, but isn't that the nature of the beast?  It made me giggle.  I also enjoyed that she could already envision a vampiric feeding scene taking place during a blow job.  Yes, I'd say my work here is done, but it's only just started.

The grad student readings were wonderful and exciting and the faculty readings were the best yet.  All three faculty members had pieces that were humorous and touching.  Randall Kenan's reading of his new piece was particularly fantastic.  I definitely want this man as my mentor at some point. No, not want.  Need.  He's just pure win.  Many of the faculty here are pure win and I feel particularly spoiled to be able to talk with them on a daily basis during the residency.  You can read a bit more about him and see a great profile pic on Goodreads.

Tonight I'm working on a variety of things to prepare for the next section of workshops as well as for Randall's class on Magical Realism.  I have a Starbuck's date with Marilyn and Jennifer tomorrow and while I adore the campus, I'm super stoked to leave it for just a little while.  Also it looks as though I won't be spending my last night at the airport as I've been invited to stay with my Solstice Buddy for the night and then head out to Logan the next day.  I cannot thank her enough for this generosity.