Rarely Likable

The ladies' room beat = really boring?

Thanks to the SFWA dumbassery going on right now I learned about Scribd, which is best described as Flickr for text files. Thanks to Scribd, I got to read the criminal complaint against Larry Craig. Thanks to that file, I am pondering what it must be like to have the public lewdness beat in the Minneapolis PD. And now it's only a matter of time before that shows up somewhere.

Let's talk tactics

The following things have led to fiction writer-productivity on my part.  Some of them don't work anymore, I list them here in case they're useful to someone else. I have left countless things out that will hopefully be put into future installments.

They are also listed in no particular order, except for the last one.

-- Buying school supplies (man, I love and hate this time of year...)
-- John Updike's short story "A&P"
-- All previous places of employment
-- Sleep deprivation
-- Stinky candles
-- Crushes on people, places, and things
-- Donald freaking Barthelme
-- Driving my car for long uninterrupted periods of time
-- Stephen King's short story "Everything's Eventual"
-- An intense desire to ridicule something (and subset: something specific)
-- Taking showers
-- Diet Pepsi Vanilla
-- My beloved iPod, Dusty Gazongas
-- IMs and email (this also belongs in the net loss category, I suppose)
-- EverQuest, EverQuest 2, World of Warcraft, The Matrix Online (also in the net loss category, and it is worth noting that I cannot include Dark Ages of Camelot, City of Heroes/Villains, or Guild Wars yet...and I will probably never include Lord of the Rings Online)
-- Steely Dan
-- Various coffee shops and libraries in the Northeast
-- Saying "Sure...why not?"
-- Harper's and Star Hits magazines
-- Jewelrymaking, particularly learning how to make a halfway decent wire clasp
-- People who don't have a clue that they make a difference...and often, will never find out.

"Hey look, your diabetes is under control! I guess you can stop taking metformin now!"

From this article about the state report on Virginia Tech's actions last April:

(Seung Hui Cho) was given a prescription for the anti-depressant Paroxetine, which he took from June 1999 to July 2000, and “did quite well on this regimen.”

The doctor stopped the medication because Mr. Cho had improved.

(I should probably make some sort of pet peeve/grinds my gears category tag.)

Back to school bucket

Had to do one on Wednesday -- that much stuff bookmarked.

(Someone asked me how many feeds I read. Answer: 244, and just over half of them are books/reading/writing related. Think there's one I'm missing? Tell me, I love clicking the Add button!)

Callie has a look at the August issue of The Believer. And I am prompted to admit that The Official Preppy Handbook was one of my favorite things to read as a kid. God, I was weird.

Ed not only reviews Death of a Murderer, he manages to unearth what Nicholson Baker is up to (an 800 page history tome, apparently).

Some tangible evidence re: the New Yorker being the shizz. (via Max)

Yesterday was Barzak Day...but here, you can pretend today is! This is EXACTLY the kind of thing that makes me look for specific books at the store, by the way. Excellent all around.

In which Gwenda compels me to add another book to the list inside my ratty little notebook. And look, here's one that I can put on my 2008 calendar...

My sister's hero is profiled in Writer's Digest this month by Jordan.

Tayari Jones, invaluable as always, provides tips on planning your writerly summer.

A nice post about another topic I'm likely to prattle about soon...writer's block.

How often do you see a writing contest that needs more submissions? C'mon, some of you people who visit KNOW you should do this. Get on it, already!

American Girl enters the 1970s. My 70s childhood was pretty unhip compared to Julie's and Ivy's, which has me wondering about some of the previous American Girl dolls.

And finally... if you think this YouTube is excellent, we're already friends. (via Jeff)

Ever have this experience?

One of the moments I love best in the world is when, for whatever reason, I really pay attention to something I'd heard or seen or felt or whatever a million times before...and realize it's a lot more terrific than I knew.

Today's case in point: "I Wish", by Stevie Wonder.

In case you want to see what I mean: Listen to the snippet on iTunes so you remember which Stevie Wonder song it is...

 

Then, go look it up on your least-popup-ridden lyrics site. (No direct link, but this one isn't a bad place to start.)

You grow up and learn that kinda thing ain't right
But while you were doin' it - it sure felt outta sight

A song about being a kid, that sounds NOTHING like songs about being a kid usually do...but maybe, some of them should.

Don't quit it...but not for the reasons you think.

I've been reading a lot of very informative and valuable blog posts and other things like them on the Internet lately. So much so, in fact, that it's gotten me to thinking...surely there is some way I can return the favor. The problem is, what I've got to offer isn't really an compact article's worth -- or even a blog post's worth. It's really more just random things that I am occasionally told are useful.

So, with that in mind, here's the first installment of what might be a series. Category of the Moment: Writing and the Day Job.

Never mind the color of your parachute...figure out what you hate, then don't do that.
I knew people in graduate school who waited tables to earn money. I would rather be covered in papercuts and dipped in a vat of vinegar than be a waitress. Or a scientist, or a public relations coordinator, or a real estate lawyer, or a salesperson. 

Some things I do not hate: Sitting in front of a computer screen all day long. Interacting with people on a contained basis. Accepting constructive criticism and using it to make something better. Ergo, that is my day job. Which leads to my next thought...

There is no ideal, perfect, correct day job for writers.
I get really annoyed when I hear writers imply that all other writers should follow some career path or other. And I use the word imply because that's ALWAYS what it is. No one ever comes out and says that if you're not a professor/full time freelancer/fill-in-your-own-stereotype-here, you ain't shit. But have I ever been in a situation where I've felt like I had to apologize for how I make money? Oh yeah, absolutely.

There are plenty of other dumb things that are part of the What You Should Do If You Want To Call Yourself a Writer Canon, but that one is particularly full of crap. If you're productive and happy and you've found a day job that you don't hate? No one should give a rat's ass whether you're the UPS guy, an airline pilot, any of the jobs I named in the last part, a freelancer, or a professor.  I'm not saying that in a blowing sunshine where there usually is none way, either, and here's why:

Having a day job may actually be GOOD for you.
I want to read more stories about human resource representatives where the writer actually seems to know what a human resources representative DOES. Also: I am tired of The Friends Effect, where three people who made practically no money (at least early on, anyway) had a fantabulous apartment. I'm tired of deus ex machinae in the vocational category. Having an actual job not only puts you in the realm of the world at large, it exposes you to others in that realm. It compels you to participate as well as observe -- and I think some of the former is necessary to truly do some of the latter.

Sing along!

And the sign says, you can't have a membership card to get inside. *

*Note: I have yet to put it in my submission bios with any success.**

**Yes, I understand the point. I just thought it was interesting, and had never seen anything like this before. Which should give you an idea of how sheltered I am, probably.

It's that time again.

Friday is evolving into linkbucket day...of course now that I've said that, it'll change. Dropping out of the conversation again this weekend -- damn projects and real world. Have a good one, folks.

Susan has a very nice summary post for Grace Paley. One thing that has been bittersweet, out of this unfortunate news, is finding out who else was affected profoundly by her work.

If George Saunders is unsure about blogging, we should all be unsure about blogging. (via)

Because I never get tired of reading anything about Nabokov. (via)

Hot Metal Bridge is still doing MFA 101. Today: Submitting to literary magazines. So true...the only thing I'd add is another "A LOT" or ten to the rejection section. Another link to add to the list of things I give people to read when they tell me they want to go to graduate school for writing stories.

Ozzfest tickets were free this year. Nope, not kidding. I really thought about going. Brendan did, and discovered the current holders of the Best 80's But Not 80's Metal Band title in the process.

What's next for Rupert Thomson?

200 articles for bloggers, and the ones I've looked at have been interesting.

I wish more literary magazines had fiction feeds, because my feedreader is like my television. Storyglossia does, and today's installment, "Bounty" by Thomas Cooper, is a great Friday-type read.

I hate posts like this.

Maud reports that Grace Paley has died. Once again, I'm out to the parking lot for a little while.

Edited to add the two obits currently in Google News: from the AP (That's all you've got, NYT? Really?)  and from CNN.

ETA again: Question above answered.

ETA again: NPR has a nice page up that, even better, includes interviews.

Confessional alert!

David Leavitt wants to hear about writer envy. As much as I think it'd be amusing to go over there and name him, David Leavitt doesn't fall into that category for me at all. That's right, I wish him well in all that he does and I mean it. In fact, I have very fond memories of reading "Territory" during my first year of college.  That said, there are several writers who fall into this category for me -- one that I used to be acquainted with, actually. But maybe I should save any vague elaborations for that comment box.