Meme Girl

I am finally getting around to responding to some memes that I have been sitting on for a while. I won't tag anyone else on this, but if you feel so inspired to respond with your own (to this one or the previous post) do post a link in the comments.

1. Which words do you use too much in your writing?

I, eventually, which, while, certainly, since, if

2. Which words do you consider overused in stuff you read?

Suddenly, seriously, literally, like, whatever,

3. What misused phrases irritate you the most?

”I could care less.” (because this means you do care. The phrase should be “I couldn’t care less.”)
“Anyways” Grr.
“Could of” (It’s “could have.”)
“Intensive purposes”
It’s/Its (It’s ALWAYS means it is.)
“ATM machine” (It’s redundant. So is VIN number.)

4. What are your other favorite blogs?

I have a list of them on the right side of the page. Those are my favorites and I check up on them regularly.

5. Regrets, do you have a few? Is there anything you wish you hadn't written?

I have some truly regrettable poetry from my early 20s. I don’t have deep regrets about my other (published) work, except that I wish some of it had been less rushed and more researched.

6. How has your writing made a difference? What do you consider your most important piece of writing?

Crap. It’s so hard to gauge. I know that I enticed a number of people to go out and see live performances around town (a thing which I hope had the long term effect of making them arts patrons). I’m pretty sure I encouraged a number of people to go out and visit new galleries, restaurants, bars, and gathering spots. I always feel good when people come up to me and tell me that they checked out a new thing because of something I wrote.

As far as importance, I have to say that the most important writing I am doing right now is the stories that touch on my relationships with my children, my friends, and my parents. It’s not important to the greater good, but it is important for me and for those close to me.

7. Name three favorite words

symbiotic, cumulus, coagulate

8. ...And three words you're not so keen on

pop (I may be one of the only native Oregonians that actively refers to cola as “soda”)
Boyfriend/girlfriend (I know it is a practical term, but it sounds so immature. Unfortunately, the alternatives are equally indesireable.)
Hazel (I don’t hate this word nearly as much as I did while growing up. Back then, I would get positively irked when someone told me I had hazel eyes.)
w00t (why do people say this word out loud?)
Also, I hate it when people try to combine words to find alternatives for brunch (e.g. linner, dunch, etc.)

9. Do you have a writing mentor, role model or inspiration?

I am lucky enough to have a circle of really talented friends. For poetry, I am inspired by the likes of Patrick Wohlmut, Tommy Gaffney, Chris Ridenour, Dennis McBride, Elizabeth Archers, Heather Evanston.

On a grander scale, some of my favorite story writers are Susan Jane Gilman, Steve Almond, Gregory Maguire, Neil Gaiman, Ray Bradbury, Sarah Vowell, and (I hate to think that it’s becoming cliché to say so, but) David Sedaris.

10. What's your writing ambition?

To enjoy myself and dig deeper into the subjects that I love like art, food, performance, fashion, literature, and the city of Portland. Mostly the city of Portland. I’m a sucker for PDX.

11. Plug alert! List any work you would like to tell your readers about.

Keep your eye on my other blog, Keep Portland Yours. I’ll be updating it with interviews, write ups, articles, and reviews in the months to come.

On Writing, part deux

1.What’s the last thing you wrote?
Some articles that I will be posting soon on my new blog, Keep Portland Yours. (Note: There are a number of great interviews, reviews, and write ups there now from my days with PDX Magazine if you would like to check it out.)

2.Was it any good?
I’m enjoying the act of getting back in the swing of things. I like what I am writing, but it has been a challenge to adjust to writing without a more clearly defined audience.

3.What’s the first thing you wrote that you still have?
This poem:
Which moon will it be tonight?
Round or bitten?
It’s mine tonight.
(Holly age 3)

4.Write poetry?
I do. Though not much lately.

5.Angsty poetry?
Squishy, angsty, star-filled poetry, with occasional tangents into sexual deviance.

6.Favorite genre of writing?
Personal journalism. I appreciate it because it employs voice and emotion. At its worst, personal journalism comes off as pretentious, silly, self indulgent, or mawkish. At its best it is passionate, clever, and about as bombastic as a Sunday afternoon nap.

Howard Owens, the publisher of the Batavian and former director of GateHouse Media describes it as such:

Personal Journalism is just as ethical as old-school public journalism. It still values facts, fairness, truth telling and good reporting. It’s just that personal journalism is written differently. It is written from one person, a person we can identify and identify with, for one person. The byline is more than a name under a headline in Personal Journalism. It is the persona and the personality. Personal journalists do more than report the story. They let us see at least a little about who they are, what they believe, what drives them and what they find important. If a personal journalist has a bias, we know it. That is part of the truth-telling tradition all journalists should endorse, but only personal journalists make it a practice.

7.Most fun character you’ve ever created?
I re-created an old neighborhood couple I knew for a short story about my first (devastatingly regrettable) theft. They were a fun mish-mash of some of the more eccentric people I had known while growing up.

8.Most annoying character you’ve ever created?
A woman who was “trapped in a dead-end relationship” by her crushing fear of commitment and her unwillingness to move on for fear of being the bad guy. Note to self: Diary entries do not = storytelling.

9.Best plot you’ve ever created?
Centers around a hamburger

10.Coolest plot twist you’ve ever created?
Um…the pickle?

11.How often do you get writer’s block?
Don't be fooled by the words that I got
I'm still, I'm still Holly from the block

12.How do you get through it?
Sometimes it takes perseverance. Sometimes I have to walk away. Sometimes it requires the sacrifice of my liver. Sometimes a writing exercise can knock something loose. There are as many cures for writer's block as there are types.

13.Do you type or write by hand?
Most of the time I type these days. I used to keep a notebook on hand for sudden moments of inspiration, but I never seem to be far enough away from the computer to make that worthwhile.

But as I write this, I recall my visceral love of handwritten words on a page. Perhaps the disconnectedness of typing my words is contributing to my lack of inspiration.

14.Do you save everything you write?
Yes. I have files on my computer that are named things like “This Poem Sucks,” “Pig Vomit” and “Must Have Been Drunk.” I can’t bear to toss it out because even if it sucks I think there might be a couple of words or phrases that can be repurposed into something else.

15.Do you ever go back to an idea after you’ve abandoned it?
All the time. I love to let a poem or story sit for days, weeks, or even years, and then dig my fingers back in to twiddle around with it. I am never so opposed to editing that I consider a piece thoroughly complete.

16.What’s your favorite thing you’ve written?
I have a couple of favorite poems that I never seem to tire of and a short story that I have been sitting on for 8 years. I still love it, but I have no idea what to do with it.

17.Do you ever show people your work?
Well, the Open Mic is very much an “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours” kind of scene, so I guess I do. Most of my poetry is posted on my blog as well, but my short stories (mostly auto-biographical) tend to stay hidden.

18.Did you ever write a novel?
The aforementioned story about the drama girl who couldn’t commit? Yeah, that was intended to be a novel. I wrote 13 chapters, most of which involved the main character hiding in the bathroom. *sigh*

19.Ever written romance or angsty teen drama?
See above.

20.What’s your favorite setting for your characters?
Bars, beds, and bygone days

21.How many writing projects are you working on right now?
About 14. I am playing the editorial equivalent of Whack-a-Mole right now.

22.Do you want to write for a living?
Ok, sure. Does it come with health benefits?

23.Have you ever won an award for your writing?
I have.

24.Ever written anything in script or play format?
Not well.

25.What are your five favorite words?
Bellicose, crematorium, tumultuous, allegorical, anachronistic

16.Do you ever write based on yourself?
That’s pretty much all I do. I took that whole “write what you know” thing and ran with it.

27.Where do you get your ideas?
Memories, writing exercises, literature, family, etc. Ideas come from pretty much anywhere. Oh, and dictionaries.

28.Do you ever write based on your dreams?
I used to, but I don’t remember my dreams much lately. Of course, I used to sleep more restlessly that I do now. So, it’s a toss-up which is better.

29.Do you favor happy endings, sad endings or cliff-hangers?
Depends on the story. I just don’t like to feel cheated at the end.

30.Have you ever written based on an artwork you’ve seen?
Yes, of course. I love writing poems or stories based on photographs, as a sort of backwards illustration.

I had a terrible 7th grade teacher who had a moment of brilliance when he gave us a writing assignment to tell the stories behind the pictures in Chris Van Allsburg’s The Mysteries of Harris Burdick. We only had to do one, but I was so inspired, I did the whole book.

31.Are you concerned with spelling and grammar as you write?
I am obsessively concerned with spelling. Grammar is usually right up there too, but I will occasionally allow a sentence fragment or other such sin to slip through.

32.Ever write anything in chatspeak (how r u?)
Only to be ironic or funny.

33.Does music help you write?
Only as inspiration. I can’t listen to anything when I am in the process of writing. The circuits overload.

34.What keeps you going?
Wonder.

35.Quote something you’ve written. Whatever pops into your head.
I’m thinking about family today, so it’s a short poem called “February”
My grandma never loved me more
than the day she died.
She was living in a requiem cloud and
I wanted to pull her out.
But she smiled and patted my hand and said
“You remind me of my granddaughter.”

Shiny Tin Boxes

I say I never meant to hide it from you, but we both know better
Boxed up babies and
Chronological change purses
shiny tin boxes, alphabetized,
Alkali bunnies, corroding dust
Empty fucks gone habitually, inappropriately
jawdroppingly knowable,
last minute nicknames
offered as payment for
quiet rapacious shower tableaus, but
Unraveling Winnie-the-Pooh verses
Won’t explain you
ziplining a pistol

Ave Maria came over the hill, and I
Tucked under the window pane
wanted to give it all to you
sensible. Never strange. Never
reeking of molecules that failed to rise
and evaporate into a fresh morning

shiny tin boxes left to rust
concealing decades of lost Scrabble games
Perfumed talc dusted hip bones,
Toothless nights spent whistling the
Idiot’s Guide to the String Theory
Dog-earing Robert Burns on
Sexual Healing, Doing
Odometer reads while gunning
the engine, bargaining the yard chickens
to coo a little longer


A poem for Read Write Poem, which I haven't contributed to in so very long. I tried to follow the prompt, but it went awry somewhere. I'm posting this anyway because they keep telling us we don't have to follow the rules. Had to use some trickery (i.e. challenge games) to pull this one out of me. See if you can spot the two I used.

Things I have learned while writing a book

Things I have learned while writing a book

1. Having “all day” to work on writing means you have about 2 good solid hours.

2. The cable bill will come due on your deadline and you won’t be able to pay it because you went out drinking last night.

3. There IS such a thing as too much ccafffeinne.

4. It takes you three times as long to write about a person, subject or thing that you actually care about.

5. Doubt is your biggest enemy. The minute you think you aren’t up to the task; you aren’t. Vodka won’t change that. Sex won’t change it either.

6. No one will be as excited about your goal as you.

7. The concept of “the muse” as most writers use it confuses and irritates me. “The muse is an angel” “The muse is a parasite.” “The muse is a whore.” “The muse is a fickle friend.” I think we need to maintain a safe distance from that so-called entity that inspires us to write. What do we do if the muse doesn't show up? Our job as writers is to show up and write. Sometimes, we write brilliantly, sometimes (often) we don’t. The more we grow anxious about engaging the muse or “allowing” her into our lives, the less capable we are of simply showing up.

8. On that same note: If you think about the whole book or even a whole chapter, you will freak the hell out. That thing that E.L.Doctorow, the author of the book/play Ragtime said holds true, “Writing a book is like driving at night. You can only see as far as the headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.” (Probably misquoted, but the general idea is there.)

9. Remember how everyone said they would help you? Edit when ever you want? Take you out for cocktails? Get photos for you? Yeah. They didn’t mean it. Don’t take it personally, they are busy, too. (See rule #6.)

10. Every now and then, you have to interact with real humans. In my case, I am actually writing about what real humans would presumably want to do, so it makes sense that I would understand what people might be interested in. But when I find myself sharing how excited I get about closing all my browser windows at the end of each task (seriously, so gratifying!) and look up to find everyone staring blankly back at me, I know it is time to turn off the computer and talk to someone who doesn’t limit me by 140 characters.

11. I am apparently a perfectionist. But I’ll elaborate more on that later. I don’t have enough time/head space right now to express everything I want to say on it right now. (Which, as I re-read this, is probably a testament to the fact, sheesh.)

12. Your editor is there for a reason. Don’t expect to be perfect. Try to spell correctly. Use the Oxford comma with grace and skill, but don’t spend an entire day looking up 14 alternatives to the word “good,” only to freak out and spend another day reading People magazine instead of writing because you are afraid you are a boring and amateurish writer who should never have gotten the job in the first place.

13. I’ll say it again. Your editor is there for a reason (and not because you are boring and amateurish. Stop it. Just stop it.) Your editor is there to make you better. When your editor does correct you, don’t beat yourself up for not thinking of it first. Embrace it.

14. Don’t make plans on the day of a deadline in hopes that you will be inspired to stay focused. Mistakes will be made.

15. Don’t forget why you’re doing it.

Time Management

It's been weeks now since I was given the task of announcing that PDX Magazine was folding. As I suspected, we didn't go out with a bang. It wasn't really a whisper either, more like a soft, unintentional fart.
But frankly, I am pleased with the way things ended. For a while I was worried that all our work would have been for naught. I was sad to see it end, but I think the timing was right.
We had our ups and downs over the years, sure. There were times when we weren't certain what to expect from the business side of things. But my colleagues and I stuck with it until the end because of a number of reasons:
1. We believed in the product. There were some that complained about the fact that we never wrote "anything negative." This is not because we were ruled by advertising, but because we had made a choice to only cover the places we liked. We billed ourselves as the "Where to go, what to do magazine" not the "what not to do" magazine. Plus, we figured the Willamette Week and The Mercury had that whole snarky thing down pat.
2. We felt that we had finally begun to separate ourselves from the others (The Mercury, Willamette Week, Portland Monthly, etc).
3. We (myself and my art director) had the distinct pleasure of having nearly-complete creative control.
4. We were getting paid. Sure, we were working long hours and wearing many, many hats, but we got paychecks (almost always before sundown on payday).
5. We love Portland. This city is so vibrant and enthusiastic. Writing about it for the last 3 and a half years was not only easy, it was fun.

On a more personal level, I am taking this opportunity to focus on finishing the Moon Travel Guide for the city of Portland. (The completed book is due in August.) I had set my mind on the fact that I would be able to soar through the rest of the chapters with ease now that my schedule had opened up, but that hasn't exactly been the case. Budgeting my time has been a challenge and some things have gotten in the way of my productivity.

This week, I am trying a new tactic. I get up early, make coffee, take a shower and "commute" back upstairs where I proceed to work on writing for at least 2 hours before I allow myself to get distracted or consumed by anything else. It's going well today, but hey, if any of you have tips for being more productive while working from home, I would welcome them!

The Red Shoes

Story time (around 8:30 Saturday through Tuesday) is always an advernture. We occasionally find ourselves dipping into the fantastical world of Coraline, the whimsy of Shel Silverstein or the milk-through-your-nose wit of Captain Underpants. Sometimes we simply read excerpts from a great big book about swords (It goes something like this “‘A polearm is a large two-handed edged weapon, usually in the form of a long metal or wood pole a bit taller than a person, with an axe-like head which allowed it’s user to stab his opponent or chop off his head without risking close combat.’ Ok, kids…sweet dreams.”) Every now and then, we grownups like to switch things up a bit. We throw in a little Rudyard Kipling’s Just So Stories (“O my Best Beloved!”) or some Lewis Carroll.
One night, I grabbed a copy of Hans Christian Andersen’s original fairy tales from the shelf. The copy once belonged to Jaime’s mother and had her inscription on the inside cover. Flipping through the book, I tried to find a story that hadn’t already been adapted by Disney or sung about by Elton John or Randy Newman.
Ah ha! The Red Shoes! Perfect. A story about art, passion and love, right? What could be better? Um…yeah.
Apparently, my memory of reading HCA’s original story has been romanticized over the years (and further bastardized by the 1948 movie). Does anyone remember the original?
Young Karen is orphaned and then adopted by a rich old woman. She covets a pair of red satin shoes and then tricks the old woman into buying them for her. Against her caretakers wishes, she wears them to church and basically causes a scandal, but somehow, she cannot bring herself to give up the harlot shoes. She tricks the old woman again and goes to a party in her red shoes where she dances gleefully all night. But wait…here comes the lesson like an ACME anvil out of the sky…Try as she might, poor Karen cannot take the shoes off, nor can she stop dancing. She dances day and night until she nearly dies of exhaustion. Desperate, she enlists the help of an executioner to chop her feet off. The end, right? NO!
Karen tries desperately find forgiveness by hobbling on her bloody stumps to church, but is thwarted each time by those pesky shoes (still dancing). Eventually she shows enough remorse and piousness that she is forgiven…I guess.
Upon finishing this story, I look up from the book to find all three boys staring at me with knitted brows. Parker pipes up, “What? That’s the story?” Trisha excused herself to get a cocktail.
The thing is, I haven’t been able to get the story out of my mind. My memories of the Michael Powell film were largely influenced by the fact that I saw it during the five minutes of my life in which I wanted to be a ballerina, but still the story resonated some where deep within me. The heroine, gazing lovingly between her crimson toe shoes and her lover cries out, “Oh, Julian, I love you!” To which he despondently replies, “But you love dance more!”
Ah yes! The classic struggle between art and life. Right brain and left. Passion and practicality. The story isn’t new, but it is particularly prickly now that the economy has many of us artists feeling like pursing our art “at all costs” isn’t simply impractical, it’s utterly perilous. “Keep your job! If you regret leaving, you’ll never find something else!” “Tough it out! At least you have a job!” “Quit you’re whining. We’re all struggling.”
The disillusionment feels all too familiar. If we chose to pursue our passions, are we choosing to chop ourselves off at the ankles? Will we be forsaken by the folks who tried to save us? Will we be supported by the community or will we find ourselves dancing in a dark, rainy forest at three a.m. crying over our aching feet?

Alarming

ReadWritePoem prompted us to share a “first line” with the group and then borrow from someone else to form a poem. Never one to follow a recipe, I have made what can only be referred to as a patchwork quilt of first lines. (Thanks to Alia, Deb, Sam, Wayne and Gautami Tripathy)







If I could wake before
Pacific winds tear

across star-spangled grass,
ripping dreams from plastic

stalks awakening fear
then reason, I would not

Before the drunks line
empty stomachs with coffee
and whiskey, fear

feels like yesterday’s cigarettes,
stale and familiar, knocking

at my skull, rattling
loose words, lost

in the folds of
sense and purpose

Old

(a ReadWritePoem prompt)

Old

Old used to live in jewelry boxes,
photographs of German ladies
curling at the edges

dizzy clouds of Artie Shaw and Chick Webb,
syncopated Sunday promises
still wet between the eyes

First my grandmother.
Skin like paper, pressed
translucent hands to fading lips

My mother, traced her
fluid-filled cheeks, carving
from memory the tracts she could

remember, and then set to work
on her own face, grasping for
lashes and absent kisses

until she forgot, and reached
for me, caressing brow bone,
cheek, anxious to recall where
it had all begun