Category Archives: Adjunct Life
That Novel I’ve Been Working On . . .
Aside from not being a dog, or having a drinking problem, or being homies with a diabolical, talking baby, this is exactly what “working on my novel” has been like. At least for the last two years when all the research needed for the narrative is, in a sense, sorted. This is still a hilarious clip (note to my dad: this is how you use the word “hilarious,” not to randomly describe things like scuba diving, clothing, or hamburgers.) But it is less funny when I think about myself as Brian Griffin. Fortunately, I can’t sustain such introspective and deep thoughts while watching Family Guy for very long. In case it isn’t clear, this is a slightly late New Year’s Resolution Post. Yes, eleven days late. So what?
As I was saying . . .
At some point between my birthday and the end of the year, I make a perfectly plausible New Year’s resolution: to carve out some writing time and get that novel I’m working on finished. Then I write other detailed resolutions that expand and strengthen the initial resolution. I also throw in some I’m going to exercise and drink more smoothies.
Last year, I even attempted to do NaNoWriMo in November, which didn’t go quite as well as I’d hoped. In fact, it went in the opposite direction. If you’re wondering why my NaNo word count widget is still stuck in November, it isn’t the result of laziness; it’s because that’s the last time I even looked at my story, let alone touched it, and I mean that in a completely normal way.
While I would like to blame Kavya, my two year old daughter, for my lack of time, energy, motivation, inspiration, etc. I can’t. Nor can I blame my hectic work schedule. It’s not that hectic, or draining. The real issue really boils down to. Well, me. I am not looking at writing fiction as a job, and I probably should start doing that. There is no divine inspiration, or sage advice to gleam from writing books or magazines. The bottom line is that I have to write like it’s a job.
When I write freelance articles and essays, I know someone is going to pay me as soon as I finish it. Even when I grade papers or write up lesson plans/syllabi, I know at the end of the 4 month semester, I will be paid for my effort. Writing fiction is totally different. There is no guarantee of anything. Not of payment. Not of publication, or the time frame. As Victor Frankenstein says to Robert Walton in Letter IV of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein: “Unhappy man, do you share my madness?” Yep. I do, homeboy.
After my five days of NaNo and my pitiful November word count, I felt a bit bummed and even as I write this post, I still haven’t looked at my writing. But clearly, I wasn’t that distraught because it didn’t stop me from livin’ it up on a holiday to Hawai’i for Christmas.
So, rather than making a huge New Year’s Resolution post filled with lofty goals, this year I have exactly two writing related goals:
1) To get organized and start taking my writing seriously, instead of waffling about. That wasn’t really a goal, more an offhand inner thought that somehow made it to #1 on my resolutions.
2) I’m going to post a monthly word count in the sidebar, and try to gear myself up for NaNoWriMo. This is the year I finish my novel.
3) Read more. Maybe post some reviews on here of some of the books I’ve read.
I’ll end this post with another inspirational video by the best writing mentor anyone could hope to have:
Living In A Land With No Borders
My wife, the writer Sona Charaipotra, and I have gone on countless dates to Borders all over the country, often sitting in the café for hours on end, nibbling on pastries as we sift through stacks of books. When our daughter was about 2 months old, we introduced her to the wonderful world of books at Borders, first near Penn Station on 33rd street in New York, and a month later in California when we went to visit my parents.
In case you’re wondering what I am on about in the video above (it’s mostly in Punjabi), here is a translation:
Kavya Kaur, what are you reading?
What magazine is that?
I see. You want to get an agent already?
You’re getting very angry.
I agree, finding an agent is no laughing matter.
My baby is so talented that she can laugh in the face of an agent and still get one.
You got angry again. Still reading that article about getting an agent?
Since that first Borders visit at 2 months old, we’ve taken Kavya on countless visits to Borders with trips here and there to independent bookstores like the children’s bookshop, Books of Wonder in NYC. I’ve lost count how many times me and Sona have gone on bookstore dates to Borders. Both of us belong to various listservs and forums discussing writing bits and ends, so despite the official denials, we knew Borders was losing money. And yet, we still bought gift cards. So, it wasn’t a shocker when Borders filed for bankcruptcy a few days ago. But it was still depressing to think about a world without Borders.
Literary New Year’s Resolutions for 2011
Navdeep Singh Dhillon: An Unintentional New Father
Every year I make vague and overarching resolutions – “exercise more,” “write more”- and end up getting bugger-all done. Last year was no exception, although I did get one solid thing accomplished that I’d like to say was on my list of resolutions, but I’m not that organized: becoming a dad. With the same stroke of luck, my wife also became a mum (it wasn’t on her list of things to do in 2010 either).
So this has been a very special year for me watching our daughter, Kavya, grow from bhurkanvaalee (Punjabi word loosely translating to “something that jumps”) to a living, breathing, mostly sleeping entity, and now a very real little person with a rebellious personality who genuinely laughs when anyone tries to exert their authority. Sternly saying, “No,” to anything she’s doing (eating tissue, pulling wires, beating us, results in hilarious belly laughs from her.
We have quickly realized that being parents means we have to be much more organized with everything.
Stoopid NYC MFA Students
Seth Abramson and Sona Charaipotra
I always love a good literary throw down because academics will never concede they’re in any way wrong, so it usually ends in a shootout. Oh wait, I’m confusing it with a gang war. It actually ends with one person having a strop (British slang for behaving like a child) and storming off. It’s even funnier online because there’s nowhere to go. It is, in one very fitting word, “awesome.” This time it involved the lawyer, poet, Ph.D. student, and blogger Seth Abramson, and Sona Charaipotra, a hot mama, New School Young Adult MFA student, TeenWritersBloc blogger, oh, and my wife =) It’s exactly like the feud between the East Coast and West Coast rappers. Sona’s like Tupac and Seth is like the Notorious B.I.G. Don’t let his Harry Potter outfit fool you. That is a Harry Potter outfit, right? Anyway, Seth wrote an article in the Huffington Post in which he does not call NYC MFA students idiots, and Sona wrote a blog on TeenWritersBloc.com titled “NYC Students: We’re not all idiots” See. Just like gangstaz.
James Frey and his best friend, Oprah Winfrey
Seth Abramson’s article, “James Frey and the Creative Writing Master of Fine Arts” has very little to do with either. He starts off discussing the unethical and exploitative nature of James Frey’s publishing company (check out my blog about it here), and then the article abruptly stops being about Frey and springboards into what he writes about on his blog: the perils of being in a high priced MFA program that is not fully funded. It reminds me of those reefer madness posters from the 60s.
Navdeep’s Reverse Bucket List
This is a small get together
The first time Sona introduced me to her immediate family, we ended up going to her cousin’s house for a “small get-together,” which turned out to be 40 people! And this became indicative of any celebration, big or small. We were constantly surrounded by immediate and extended family in New Jersey for all of the big celebrations, which we knew was a production (food, washing up, dealing with drama), but was something we all looked forward to, and took for granted. We just couldn’t fathom that there would be a momentous celebration where the whole family wouldn’t be present.
We assumed Thanksgiving this year would be a boisterous affair here in New Jersey, as it is every year, with Sona’s family spread out all over the house, the steady boom of Raju Mama’s voice bellowing “oh ya, ya, ya,” the constant sound of people chattering, Meena, my sister-in-law complaining that she is hungry while talking about cake, the clinking of glasses, Sona and her cousin, Arun, baking an assortment of delicious goodies, “the cousins” making plans to be part of the criminally insane crowds lining up at 3am at Menlo mall for Black Friday sales, and of course, the intoxicating aroma of masala turkey - a Charaipotra tradition.
Instead, it ended up being a very intimate affair, much like I’m used to having with my family back in California. The difference, however, is that most of my extended family are all in India, whereas most of Sona’s extended family all live minutes away from her parents’ house, so it was a very strange feeling not having them here for Kavya’s first thanksgiving.
Masala Turkey
We all sat at the table, including Kavya, our nine-month-old daughter. Each of us had contributed something to the meal: Sona’s mom made the famous masala turkey, which has never failed and is integral to Thanksgiving at the Charaipotras, and now, the Dhillons too! Me and Meena had made some deliciously concepted desserts: red velvet cupcakes and low-fat pumpkin pancakes respectively, both of which failed in execution; Sona made mac and cheese, which I hear good things about; Sona’s dad made some scrumptious mushrooms with vegetable filling; Tarun had initially disgraced himself by mashing up the potatoes a little too vigorously causing them to become mushy, but redeemed himself with Wasabi, Green-tea, and Dark Chocolate Kit-Kats he brought all the way from Japan, all of which were delicious.
And Kavya? Her contribution is simply existing. With all the negative things that weigh down on all of us, she represents the inherent goodness in everything.
Although it was a much quieter Thanksgiving than we were expecting this year, it also gave us a chance to really reflect on the things that are important to us, the things that we are thankful for.
George W. Bush is Hella Literate
George W. Bush and Bill Clinton
Two weeks ago, Decision Points, George W. Bush’s memoir covering fourteen of the pivotal moments of his presidency, came out to mostly good reviews. Even Bill Clinton and the New York Times had good things to say about it. There is also a well balanced article on the Christian Science Monitor detailing the global response to the memoir. Since its release, it has made it to Number One in Amazon’s list of bestselling books, Number One New York Times bestseller in hardcover non-fiction, and countless other accolades.
After leaving office in 2009 with approval ratings of 22%, something he really should have won an award for, he has found redemption in a literary career. Not only is his memoir doing well financially, but it has helped to flip the perception by many of his critics who have slanderously accused George W. Bush of being inarticulate and called into question his ability to read and write.
James Frey: Shady Hustler or Master Storyteller?
For those of you who have been doing more productive things like updating your FaceBook status, or searching youtube for videos of people falling, let me fill you in on the latest controversy to hit the literary scene.
In 2006, James Frey, the king of shenanigans, first burst onto the literary scene with the publication of his non-fiction memoir, A Million Fat Lies. Sorry, I meant, A Million Little Pieces. This was drooled over by Oprah who “couldn’t put it down” and endorsed it wholeheartedly as the gut wrenching story of a man who had suffered through serious drug addiction, been in and out of jail, had the trauma of losing a loved one to suicide, and out of sheer determination and gumption, pulled through it all and wrote an empowering book about his experience. Then she found out he fibbed a little. Okay, a lot.
James Frey Responding to Oprah's Questions
Three months later, I watched an emotionally draining (for him) and thoroughly entertaining (for me) episode of Oprah where she uses a very dull knife to peel open James Frey, like one would a grape: slowly and with precision. She sat down next to him, uncharacteristically cold, on the sofa. The studio audience watched intently, gasping at all the right moments, as she asked him some difficult questions and called him out on things he’d said the last time he was on her show. He had said, for example, that the reason he remembered some of the events in such vivid detail is that he had taken copious notes in journals. She made him admit that he’d lied about that. And every time she told him that he had embarrassed her, his head sunk lower and lower. What I found interesting about the whole incident was that he clearly didn’t think he had done anything wrong, and yet was willing to ingratiate himself for an hour in order to keep his millions.
FaceBook and a Second Career at 70?
| Umber Di Shehzadiya: To the Princess of the Skies Musician: Pashaura Singh Dhillon | Dheeaan: Daughter Musician: Pashaura Singh Dhillon |
I was teaching my 11 a.m. English composition class a few days ago when I received two phone calls in succession, just as I was titillating my students with tales of thesis construction and coordinating conjunctions. I have a constant fear that I’m going to be in the middle of sternly warning a student not to use their cell phone in class or it will adversely affect their participation grade . . . when my phone rings. So, fortunately, I had it on vibrate. The first voicemail was from my sister. The message, a mix of Punjabi and English, started with a deep breath, indicating she was about to disperse a lot of information in a very short amount of time: “Papa isn’t picking up his phone and he never sent me his itinerary so I don’t know what time his flight is and we have to drive to San Francisco to pick him up. Call me as soon as you get this message.”
The second voicemail was from my dad and the reason I stepped out of the room while I let my students ponder over the great ethical question of whether Frankenstein would have freaked out over his creation had he looked like a male model. I thought perhaps there was a flight delay. My parents had flown to Seattle to drive up with some relatives to Canada to attend a concert by Mamta Joshi, a very well known Sufi singer from Punjab, who was singing, “Umber Di Shehzadiye : To the Princess of the Skies,” one of my dad’s poems, and had especially invited him to attend the concert.
My dad’s message, purely in Punjabi, which I’m including here simply because the focus and urgency of it is so entertaining in its original wording: “Mai apne blog te gya te dvd ni disdi. Menu phone kareen.” Click. which roughly translates to “I went to my blog site and I don’t see the DVD. Call me.” He calls an embedded youtube link by many names; DVD is just one of them. His flight, it turned out, was the next day, but I find the transformation of my father’s priorities fascinating.
Just a few years ago, my dad would have been the one incessantly ringing my sister, me, and anyone remotely involved in operation pick-up-mum-and-dad-from airport, making sure all of us knew the flight and gate number in addition to the type of engine the aircraft they would be flying on was using. These days, however, making sure his websitewebsite, tweets, blog, youtube channel, and FaceBook fan page are updated is more of a priority.
A Quick Snapshot
My father, Pashaura Singh Dhillon, a Punjabi singer, poet, and retired landscape architect, has a beautiful voice, and at over 70 years old, has more friends, fans, twitter followers, and page hits than me and my wife do! He doesn’t have any aspirations of being rich and famous. He’s perfectly content living on his acre and a half with chickens, fruit trees, and even a tandoor in his back yard.
But no matter what, poetry has always been a part of my father’s life. I don’t recall a time when he didn’t have a little notebook in hand with scribbled lines of Punjabi, or wasn’t at least humming a tune. He has always been very passionate about social issues, particularly those involving Sikh history, tradition, the environment, and human rights.
Retired?
You wouldn’t realize my father is retired by looking at the way he spends his mornings. He loves going for a morning walk with our dog, Moti, collecting eggs from the kukrian (chickens) before doing some yoga. Then making an omelet for breakfast with fresh veggies from the garden. In the evenings he and my mum have some delicious grub from the homemade tandoor and yes, that does occasionally include tandoori chicken. Or rather, it did. My mum, as of a few months ago declared the chickens part of the Dhillon family. And apparently we don’t eat family members. We can still steal their eggs for our breakfast though. After his omelette, he does a little gardening and on Tuesdays, goes golfing with his good friend, Glenn. He sounds like a retired man so far doesn’t he?
After the early morning hours, my dad gives me a ring and engages in small talk for under 30 seconds. It’s very impressive and usually goes something like this: “Mera Puth aj ki kariya? Kavya te Sona ki karde? Acha aj mai apna blog likh ke te fer mai apne FaceBook te jaake wall te ki likhaan?” which translates to : How is my son doing today? What are Kavya (my 8 month old daughter) and Sona (my wife) doing? Right, so today after I write my blog, what should I write on the wall in FaceBook?” He takes blogging and FaceBook quite seriously, even if he isn’t one hundred percent sure about the difference between writing on somebody’s wall and somebody writing on his wall. Or what a wall is, really. And has no idea what you’re on about when you “like” a post. That conversation will probably take place tomorrow morning though! And let’s not forget his weekly radio show that he co-hosts on KBIF 900 AM in Fresno. As focused as he is in the mornings, and even though he thinks he isn’t very tech savvy, he manages to use Skype to video chat with his grand daughter quite regularly. He even uses it as an adjective!
He has always been very active in the community, and something I’ve been trying to ween him away from so he can concentrate on his poetry. Yes, it’s all my doing., And he has significantly weeded out the million organizations and events that were running his life. So now, he still has some organizations and events that he’s part of, but they are all things that he has a passion for. One of those things is the Punjabi language promotion in schools and colleges and bringing Sikh awareness to the community.
And while this endeavor has been fairly fruitful with getting the gears churning in being a part of creating basic level Punjabi classes at the school and college/university level, as a poet, he wants more than a generation of kids who can have elementary conversations in Punjabi. He wants them to appreciate the language for its literary traditions. But it is a powerful stepping stone that he is a part of.
His collection of poetry, audio cd, and magazine articles were all limited to a Punjabi speaking and reading audience rendering a poem about the importance of Punjabi language a little redundant. People who read these magazines on their own accord, even in India, are definitely not my generation. So essentially, it was the equivalent of passing out fliers to PETA to raise their awareness of animal crueltly. As soon as he started receiving comments on how moved people were by the translated and Punjabi poems set to images and his voice on youtube, he began to want to do more. So when he started the blog, we decided to just call a section Moving image Slideshow.
The idea to create a Moving Image Slideshow set to my father’s voice came about when he wrote a poem about Barack Obama back when Obama was still campaigning. My father was and continues to be an avid supporter. The poem was entirely in Punjabi, which we released on youtube to nominal success. But then after tons of comments asking for an English translation, we released the translated version and it shot to over 40,000 hits:
But the main reason we continued with the English translations was that it was reaching a completely new demographic that my father had never envisioned would be interested in his poems. And growing up, my father would sort of tell me the meaning to the poems he wrote, but I wouldn’t really understand the context or even if the word choice he used actually conveyed the meaning. Most of the time, the poetry was gone the second he started translating.
One of my favorite poems of his is called “Umber Di Shehzadiye : To the Princess of the Skies.” The premise is incredibly creative and was written over 40 years ago. It is a poem of the Earth writing a letter to the Moon, her sister, warning her of the nature of man, who, having destroyed Earth, is now attempting to woo the Moon. In an incredible stroke of luck, a very well known Sufi singer from Punjab, Mamta Joshi, listened to the poem on youtube and became my father’s “friend” on FaceBook. They started chatting on FaceBook and she wanted to sing his poem using Sufi taals at her first concert in Canada.
Initially, his fans were people that he knew. But within a very short amount of time, that wasn’t and is definitely not the case now. Before his FaceBook. Blog, Youtube, and twittering, my father would routinely call me to figure out how to open Microsoft word. Now he rings me to get my suggestion on more SEO terms to attach on his blog post. Pretty soon, I’ll be the one ringing up my dad for technical advice!
Here is his most recent blog post: Kavita Di Kahani, the Story Behind the Poem “Dheeaan,” a powerful poem about the value of daughters in our society. If you like his music, check out his page at PashauraSinghDhillon.com.
It’s hard not to be impressed with how technologically savvy my father has become, given his age. Even if he still types with one finger. I won’t say my father is Superman, but if Superman had a FaceBook or Twitter account . . .
Audio Slideshow of Salman Rushdie and Tishani Doshi At The Brooklyn Book Festival
An Audio Slideshow of an interview between Salman Rushdie and Tishani Doshi
Ten Authors With No Web Presence
The general consensus today is that a writer in any medium must have an online presence. At the very least, they should have a website. Regardless of the caliber, all of the new writers, it seems, have a website/blog, and a twitter and facebook account for professional purposes (with some rare exceptions). Sometimes these are run by other people, but the illusion that the writers themselves are posting their thoughts and updates is there. I started researching Salman Rushdie, who is speaking at the Brooklyn Book Festival next week, and was surprised to see he had no online presence whatsoever. What was even more surprising was that he is not alone. Here is a list of 10 pretty big names in the literature world without even a website:
1. Salman Rushdie
British-Indian novelist most famous for his fourth novel The Satanic Verses in 1988 because of the fatwa and death threat he received and even had a failed assasination attempt in 1989. He has won numerous awards for his novels and essays. Some of his famous novels include Midnight’s Children, Grimus, and The Enchantress of Florence.
2. Alice Munro
Canadian short-story writer who is one of the few able to make a career out of writing just short-stories. She is the winner of the 2009 Man Booker International Prize for her lifetime body of work and was a contender for the Nobel Prize.
3. John Updike
American novelist, poet, short story writer, art critic, and literary critic. His main claim to fame is his Rabbit series and has won the Pulitzer Prize in Fiction more than once.
4. Jhumpa Lahiri
Indian American author who wrote a collection of depressing stories, Interpreter of Maladies (1999) and won the 2000 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction. Her first novel, The Namesake was adapted into a film which starred Kal Penn, Tabu, Irrfan Khan, and directed by Mira Nair. Her real name or “good name” is Nilanjana Sudeshna and is currently on the President’s Committee on the Arts and Humanities.
5. V.S. Naipaul
A British-Trinidadian novelist and essayist. He has won countless awards, including the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2001. He is much more famous for openly admitting to visiting prostitutes and cheating on his wife. He is the author of A House for Mr Biswas, A Bend in the River and Guerrillas.
6. Akhil Sharma
Indian-American author who studied public policy at Princeton, but also took some writing classes under writers like Toni Morrison and Joyce Carol Oates. He won several O. Henry prizes after being a Stegner Fellow at Stanford’s writing program and then went off to law school. He is the author of An Obedient Father and has had many of his stories published in leading magazines like the New Yorker and The Atlantic Monthly.
7. Johnathan Franzen
An American novelist and essayist who writes about the “post modern” family. His third novel, The Corrections, received numerous awards, earning him the National Book Award. The book was also selected for Oprah Winfrey’s book club after which he made some controversial comments and wrote an essay ridiculing the idea that our society looked to Oprah to suggest “best-sellers.”
8. Joyce Carol Oates
She is most well known for her short-stories, but has written over fifty novels since 1963. Since 2008, she has been an instructor at Stanford University’s Creative Writing Program.
9. Steve Yarbrough
Born in Indianola, Mississippi and an avid football fan, Steve Yarbrough was my thesis director at California State University, Fresno. All of his writing is set in Loring, Mississippi and his style is within the Southern tradition. He has written a few short-story collections, but is most well knows for the novels Safe From Neighbors (2010), The End of California (2006), Prisoners of War (2004), Visible Spirits (2001) and The Oxygen Man (1999). After spending several years teaching at California State University, Fresno, he now teaches at Emerson College in Boston.
10. Kazuo Ishiguro
British-Japanese author who has received four Man Booker Prizes to his name. His two most celebrated works are Remains of the Day and Never Let Me Go. He studied Creative Writing at the University of East Anglia. He has also written a handful of short-stories. His first novel, A Pale View of Hills (1982) is narrated by a Japanese widow living in England haunted by the horrors of Nagasaki. It won the Whitbread Book of the Year award and was shortlisted for the Booker Prize for Fiction.
Brooklyn Book Festival 2010 Here I come!
Brooklyn Bridge
I’ve been living in the NYC area for a little over three years and have never been to any of the boroughs, except for Queens, so I am stoked about the Brooklyn Book Festival coming up next Sunday (September 12) and have big plans to bike across the Brooklyn Bridge from the World Trade Center PATH. We’ll see how that goes. I’ll also be meeting up with MFA Mom who happens to be my wife as my sister-in-law graciously offered to babysit.
10:00 A.M.
It’s Only Rock ’n’ Roll (But I Like It). Musically inspired readings by three chart-topping American fiction writers: Steve Almond (Rock and Roll Will Save Your Life), Jennifer Egan (A Visit from the Goon Squad), and Colson Whitehead (Sag Harbor). Followed by Q&A. ST. FRANCIS AUDITORIUM
Past Is Not Past. Brooklyn Book Festival presents the cream of the crop of today’s historical fiction. Readings by Marlon James (The Book of Night Women), Dennis Lehane (The Given Day), and Bernice L. McFadden (Glorious), followed by Q&A.BOROUGH HALL COURTROOM
1:00 P.M.
Brooklyn’s Cookin’. Brooklyn is the cherry on top of the foodie movement. Join Edible Brooklyn’s Rachel Wharton and popular Brooklyn chefs Frank Falcinelli and Frank Castronovo (The Frankies Spuntino: Kitchen Companion & Cooking Manual), Ramin Ganeshram (Sweet Hands: Island Cooking from Trinidad & Tobago), and Amy Besa (Memories of Philippine Kitchens) for some Brooklyn cookin’ talk. NORTH STAGE
Happily Ever After? Lauren Oliver (Before I Fall), Jenny Han (It’s Not Summer Without You), and Sara Shepard (Pretty Little Liars) talk about characters who are forced to relive their past and come to terms with haunting memories after committing terrible acts. Moderated by Kirsten Miller (The Eternal Ones).THE YOUTH STOOP
Finding the Funny: The Humor of the Everyday. Humorists John Hodgman(The Areas of My Expertise), Sloane Crosley (How Did You Get This Number), and Kristen Schaal and Rich Blomquist (The Sexy Book of Sexy Sex) discuss their work.BOROUGH HALL COURTROOM
Live from the NYPL PRESENTS: The Pleasure Seekers: Salman Rushdie in Conversation with Tishani Doshi. Salman Rushdie talks to novelist, poet and dancer Tishani Doshi about her acclaimed new novel The Pleasure Seekersand about Indian-Pakistani literature and diaspora-Indian literature in general, poetry, dance and, perhaps, the delights of Goan fish curry and chocolate Ganeshes. Introduced by Paul Holdengräber. ST. FRANCIS AUDITORIUM.
It surprised me to be interested in attending “It’s Only Rock ‘n’ Roll (But I Like It)” which uses “musically inspired readings by three chart-topping American fiction writers: Steve Almond (Rock and Roll Will Save Your Life), Jennifer Egan (A Visit from the Goon Squad), and Colson Whitehead (Sag Harbor). ” I have never been drawn to music in fiction as a theme, but as soon as I saw Steve Almond’s name, I was instantly down to check it out. Not only because of his publishing an open resignation (he was an adjunct professor of creative writing at Boston College) in the Boston Globe to protest Condoleeza Rice speaking at the 2006 Commencement, but he is very eclectic in his writing. I remember reading one of his short-stories in college (can’t remember the name) that was all about shagging. And any man who can write a memoir on being a candy freak has to have something interesting to say. But perhaps the number one reason I think he’s the man is this scathing review of his memoir and a vicious attack on who Steve Almond is as a person . . . available on his site and it’s written by . . .
I’ll give you an update on my overall experience and some of the highlights next week. Hope to see some of you there, amidst the crowd of 30,000. Wear bright colors =)
The MFA in Creative Writing: Creating a Generation of Profound Writers? Or Destroying the Fabric of America?
What can I say? I'm deep.
Four years after receiving my MFA in creative writing in fiction, I’ve decided to add my two cents to the endless debate: Is an MFA in creative writing worth the time and money? In case you glossed over the second clause in my first sentence, let me reiterate that I am adding my two cents, not answering the question. See how well I implemented the “creative” part of my degree?
When I decided to pursue my MFA, I had just returned from backpacking into India through Nepal, Tibet, and China. Just before that, for two years, I had been teaching English in the small town of Dandong in Northeast China. This was back when I thought I wanted to make a difference in the lives of children by committing myself to teaching at the elementary, middle, or high school level. As it turned out, I don’t like children. (Disclaimer: I have a daughter now, and while I love her to bits, I am happy it is not my job to teach her or her kind.) Anyway, the point is I had plenty of “ real world” experience from which to draw from. That’s what old school writers did before MFAs, isn’t it?
Throughout my time in China and even when I was sitting in the backs of cattle trucks with goats nibbling at my notebook, I always wrote. I always knew I wanted to write. So I did. I wrote constantly. Beginnings of novels. Short-stories with Indian protagonists and pages and pages of backstory on the “exotic” culture I knew very little about. Needless to say, all of those embarrassing stories have never seen the light of day. I knew I had talent, but also knew it was raw. I also wanted to teach adults. And those are the reasons I applied. I didn’t care about publishing. I figured if I could polish up my writing to the point where I like it, then everything else will fall into place.
