Skies so blue they should be a postcard and it’s supposed to be 94 today. My new book, Thanks But This Isn’t for Us, (A Sort of) Compassionate Guide to Why Your Writing is Being Rejected arrived by Fed Ex yesterday. Still love the cover and read through it looking for major errors, and, sigh of relief, didn’t find any. Another big thanks to my editor at Tarcher Gabrielle Moss. It will be on sale August 24th and I’ll start posting the dates of my appearances here.

Meanwhile, herein lies a cautionary tale. Within weeks of moving to the Northwest in 1991 I invested in a tent and camping equipment, hiking boots, and outdoorsy clothes to replace my office wear. (I had been a Director of Communications at a computer company before moving out here). I also couldn’t find a job when I first moved here and was collecting unemployment checks, so with no pesky work schedule to hinder me, I was soon hiking in the Columbia River Gorge, camping on Mt. Adams and throughout Washington from Mt. Rainier to the Olympics and was generally spent a lot of time in the woods. Over the past five years or so this outdoorsy life was replaced with a more indoorsy life. As in I’ve written five books in five years which requires a lot of time sitting on my ever-spreading butt in front of my computer. Now, I still regularly went for walks around town, loved nature, and vacationed at the Oregon coast, but I was no longer camper gal.

Then about a year ago I was injured in a car accident and incurred a lot of head injuries. After a few months of almost no writing, I was able to write in short spurts because using my computer brought on headaches, nausea, vertigo, and fatigue. So instead of spending a lot of time sitting, I spent most of my time in bed. Did I mention I was also too ill to read and my eyes were damaged in the accident? So my time in bed was mostly spent listening to the radio (thank god for the election to keep me interested) Gradually, I started watching television to keep from going mad—CSPAN, Food Network, Travel Channel mostly. My life became about ant-sized between my many medical appointments and I was too often miserable. Somehow I managed to write a book during this period, which required more will power and stamina than I knew I possessed because I mostly wrote it in 20 minute segments then went back to bed, often with the world spinning and stomach churning. I’m doing much better these days, but am not recovered completely from my injuries.

But I digress. As I was finishing up my book for Tarcher I started thinking about what I wanted to write next. I ran an idea past my agent and found out my concept was about to be published by other people. And then I started mulling over an idea for a book that’s been long brewing inside, but is a big departure from what I’ve been writing lately. I don't want to spill the beans, but to write this book involves becoming camper gal again because I want to be inspired by nature. So a few weeks ago, I dusted off my camping equipment and went camping with my daughter’s family—and discovered that my tent needed replacing and I broke the zipper on the new sleeping bag bought from a store that went out of business. During this trip there was a night when I wanted to lie in an open meadow and gaze at the night sky, but the area was overrun with drunk and unnecessarily loud teenagers. (“Dude, we’re going to like be in so much trouble.”) Still it was a lovely time in the woods and some part of me that has been coiled and unhappy these long months of recovery starting easing.

After looking at slick and fabulous tents at REI decided I didn’t want to spend $300 on a canvas-nylon dwelling and bought a small tent on sale at another store. For my second camping trip you need to picture a mountain range, a mountain lake, a campground of firs and cedars at about 3200 feet, and drizzle. We set up camp in this drizzle, which never let up, created a roaring fire, cooked a fabulous dinner, walked around the campgrounds, celebrated a birthday, and generally had a grand old time despite the rain. By about 10 p.m. sitting around the fire in three layers of clothes, it was simply too cold so I retired in my new tent, glad that I had bought another sleeping bag guaranteed to 25 degrees.

During the night I woke often aware that my feet seemed to be touching the end of the tent and that rain was a steady, but somehow comforting drumbeat against the tent roof. When I woke it was about 40 degrees, my tent contained an impressive puddle, my sleeping bag was wet, my raincoat on the tent floor was soaked, and my back felt like giant lizards had been chewing on it all night. I stepped out into a world of puddles and drizzle, gloom, and skies almost nighttime dark. The tarp that had been erected to keep the chairs dry contained about 30 gallons of water. For the first time since I’ve ever been in the woods, I just wanted to go home. But the day got better, especially after I got a fire going, and we hiked around the lake, and the sun appeared the next day. I figured out why the tent leaked—a design flaw. But what I really discovered is that you cannot chase enlightenment, enchantment, or transformation. You need to let it find you and not orchestrate how this happens.

Oh, and on the way down the mountain, grubby as only someone who has been hanging around a campfire and not showering in three days can be, I stopped and bought a better, larger tent. I know this book will come together somehow, but I also know I’m going to stay dry while writing it.

In spite of illness, in spite even of the arch-enemy sorrow, one can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in big things, and happy in small ways. ~Edith Wharton

Overcast skies again and I'm heading up to the mountain despite a forecast of rain. It's Henry David Thoreau's birthday. In the conclusion to Walden, Thoreau wrote, "I learned this, at least, by my experiment; that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours."

And here's a link to an interesting article--especially with plagiarism in the news lately. You Didn’t Plagiarize, Your Unconscious Did by Russ Juskalian. Is cryptomnesia—copying the work of others without being aware of it—to blame for journalism's ultimate sin? Um, maybe not.

Be well. Keep writing, keep dreaming.

Sky still overcast but it's supposed to be about 90 here today. I've been adding to my Word List again with these entries: fandango, yawp, upswelling, recant, triage, windbag, gawp, slooshbag.

And I've borrowed this from The Writer's Almanac today because it's the birthday of one of my favorite writers and she's dispensing such great insights:

It's the birthday of the short-story writer Alice Munro, born in Wingham, Ontario (1931). She grew up on a farm, and she said, "Reading was an indulgence that you didn't go in for if there was physical work to be done." Women were only supposed to read on Sundays, because on every other day of the week they had no excuse to be reading when they could be knitting instead. So as a kid, she was always telling herself stories, and when she didn't like the endings — like in Hans Christian Andersen's "The Little Mermaid" — she would make up new ones.

She went to college, hoping to become a writer, but she dropped out to get married and have three children. She got divorced and went back to her hometown to take care of her sick father, and she was amazed at how much material there was there. She said, "What I wanted was every last thing, every layer of speech and thought, stroke of light on bark or walls, every smell, pothole, pain, crack, delusion, held still and held together — radiant, everlasting." And she took those things, and turned them into short stories.

She has written 11 books of short stories, and a new collection, Too Much Happiness, which comes out later this year. In May, Alice Munro won the Man Booker International Prize.

She said: "It's not possible to advise a young writer because every young writer is so different. You might say, 'Read,' but a writer can read too much and be paralyzed. Or, 'Don't read, don't think, just write,' and the result could be a mountain of drivel. If you're going to be a writer you'll probably take a lot of wrong turns and then one day just end up writing something you have to write, then getting it better and better just because you want it to be better, and even when you get old and think 'There must be something else people do,' you won't quite be able to quit."

Like fiction, music is an art that exists in time. Like fiction, music is always promising an imminent conclusion and then introducing complications. Like fiction, music can be plain to the point of plainsong or intricate as counterpoint, and both extremes can be satisfying. ~ Edmund White

Skies are overcast and the morning is deliciously cool. I’m working on my July newsletter which I’m behind in mailing out. The reason it’s late is that I didn’t have a clear enough idea of what I wanted to say in my column and I haven’t been out walking much lately because I’ve had back problems. I swear writing requires walking in order for ideas to simmer to the surface, for the senses to be stirred. In fact, I get my best ideas while walking and often recommend that all writers walk daily. Of course I’m not alone in dispensing this advice. I’ve learned that Beethoven came up with his inspirations while walking around Vienna—a daily practice no matter the weather. So I’m getting back into my routine…and I confess miss spying on my neighbor’s gardens and daydreaming about lives I encounter along the way.

Mike Klassen is a writer who contributes to Helium.com and Wikipedia. He recently posted three new articles to Helium.com and quoted info from Between the Lines.
The article addresses are:
http://www.helium.com/items/1458731-transition-transitions-fiction-fiction-writing-fiction-writing-mode-fiction-writing-mode
http://www.helium.com/items/1460904-transition-transitions-punctuation-fiction-writing-fiction-writing-fiction-writing
http://www.helium.com/items/1460910-transition-transitions-mechanics-how-to-fiction-writing-fiction-writing-fiction-writing

This just arrived in my in-box so I thought I'd pass it along.
ANNOUNCING CALYX BOOKS FIRST POETRY BOOK CONTEST

FOR OREGON WOMEN POETS!

THE SARAH LANTZ MEMORIAL POETRY BOOK PRIZE

The first CALYX Books Poetry Book Prize in memory of Oregon poet Sarah Lantz will accept unpublished book length poetry manuscripts (75-125 pages) for consideration from Oregon women poets.

Submission period is September 1-31, 2009.

Send a complete unpublished book manuscript (75-125 pages) with biographical data and a $25 entry fee (payable in check or money order) to CALYX Poetry Book Prize, PO Box B, Corvallis, OR 97339.

Manuscripts will be read blind—do not put your name and address on any pages, only on a separate cover letter. Final judge for the poetry book contest will be announced in July 2009. CALYX editors will read and select up to 10-15 finalists to send to the final judge who will select the prize winning manuscript. It is possible the judge could decide not to select a winner. The winning manuscript will be announced in February 2010.

Prize: The winner will receive a CALYX Books contract for publication of the manuscript in Fall 2010 and a $500 award.

Sarah Lantz was an Oregon poet whose first book, Far Beyond Triage, was published in October 2007 by CALYX Books. Sadly Sarah died from a brain tumor one month before its publication. CALYX editors worked closely with her through her illness to ensure her happiness with the final design of her book. Sarah was published by CALYX Journal, The Denver Quarterly, The Marlboro Review, Paris Atlantic, Manzanita Quarterly, Margie, and Sister Stew, among others. A secondary school teacher she also taught Poetry in the Schools in Oregon (through Literary Arts) and in Hawaii (through an NEA grant). She received her MFA from Warren Wilson College and was a member of the Pearl Poets (Portland, OR).

See website—www.calyxpress.org—for complete guidelines

The sky is gloomy as a graveyard this morning. July has been ushered in with a blaze of heat, so last night as I was heading out to my book group, was grateful to see clouds moving in. The temperatures are supposed to be in the high 60s today and I cannot express how relieved I am that the latest heat wave is over.

I hope you all had a lovely Fourth— I’ve heard that the winner of the Nathan’s Famous International July Fourth Hotdog Eating Contest was Joey Chestnut, the defending champion. He won by eating 68 hot dogs and buns in 10 minutes, 3 1/2 more than Takeru Kobayashi of Japan, his arch-rival. It was a new world record. Do you ever wonder how people first become interested in these eating contests? I mean, Coney Island seems the perfect venue (and there 40,000 people gathered to watch the contest), but Chesnut is described as a “professional eater” so does a disposition toward this occupation begin in childhood? I wonder too did the dogs come with mustard and ketchup?

By the way, our book club read The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga a novel I highly recommend, especially if you’re interested in a glimpse of the changing values and economy of India. It won the Man Booker prize and is a confession by the narrator, anti-hero Balram Halwai, the son of a rickshaw driver. The format is a series of letters to the Chinese premier Wen Jiabao because he wants to introduce the entrepreneurial spirit of the new India to the premier.

According to the author: “The narrator is lying in his small room in Bangalore in the middle of the night, talking out aloud about the story of his life. It's a story he can never tell anyone-because it involves murder-in real life; now he tells it when no one is around. Like all Indians, who are obsessed (a colonial legacy, probably) with the outsider's gaze, he is stimulated to think about his country and society by the imminent arrival of a foreigner, and an important one. So he talks about himself and his country in the solitude of his room.”

The tale he spins of his rise from tea house employee to business owner is woven with barbed wit, irony, and insight into the realities of poverty. In fact, it’s about the opposite of the sentimental, romanticized version of poverty that captivated Westerners in Slumdog Millionaire. Instead the story depicts how a rise out of poverty is possible in modern India by means of patronage and corruption. And it has the most unusual use of ‘beak’ that I have ever read—trying to figure out how to use it in my writing……

Dusk is approaching and I’ve just come in from my patio because the light is fading. For the past few hours a strong west wind has been whipping through here and tomorrow a heat wave is coming and I’m trying to ignore this horror about to descend. For years now I’ve been advising writers to use J. I. Rodale's Synonym Finder—a marvelous writing tool. This is my third copy and it’s battered, nearly ready for replacement. I’ve been working on a manuscript on and off these past few days, trying to find language that is more suited to an author’s story (it’s set in 1901). The Synonym Finder contains more words than any of it’s kind—more than 1,500,000 and I cannot work without it.

But today for the first time I read the introduction that Laurence Urdang, wrote in 1978.
Introduction: "Those who work with language know that there is no such thing as a true "synonym." Even though the meanings of the two words may be the same--or nearly so--there are three characteristics of words that almost never coincide: frequency, distribution, and connotation. Pathnera leo and lion, cucubit and squash, sodium carbonate and washing soda have quite different frequencies in English. We all know that a house is not a home, that not all women are ladies, that not all men are gentlemen; at a more subtle level, we soon learn the differences between motherly and maternal, fatherly and paternal, brotherly and fraternal. These are connotative differences.

It is a curiosity of English that it continuously acquires words from other languages to expand its lexicon. Observers have often noted that even if a new coinage or a loanword from another language starts out with "exactly" the same meaning as an existing word in English, the meanings begin to drift apart before very long, one acquiring quite different frequency, distribution, and connotation from the other. An incredible fact about English is that it retains many of the words developed in its lexicon. Some word do become obsolete and are dropped forever. Most, however, remain and develop nuances that expand for the writer and speaker the opportunities for expression and expressiveness."

Put it before them briefly so they will read it, clearly so they will appreciate it, picturesquely so they will remember it, and above all, accurately so they will be guided by its light. Joseph Pulitzer

It was in the 80s here today and I don't want to sound like a sissy-pants but it felt like the Sahara. Need to adapt I told myself as I wrung sweat from my hair, or maybe cut my hair off.....

What are you reading these days? FROM National Public Radio
Vote For The Best Beach Books Of All Time

NPR.org, June 18, 2009 · NPR is drawing up a list of the best beach books ever — and we need you to help by nominating your favorites.

What do we mean by "beach books"? When you read one, your surroundings recede, time bends and you're transported, mesmerized, enthralled. These are page turners to be sure, but that doesn't mean they're brainless. This year's list will be fiction only; any genre, any period.

To send us your summer suggestions, log in and use the comments field below. Limit yourself to three titles per post. If you like, give a sentence or two telling us about the experience of reading your best beach books.

Later, we'll post the most popular and interesting nominees and let the NPR audience vote on the ultimate list — because, like novels passing hand-to-hand in a summer house, great summer books should be shared with friends.

Summer is here……Back from my Summer in Words conference in Manzanita and still catching up on my sleep. Thanks so much to Kari Luna, who was the most wonderful of assistants-- good humored, intelligent, competent, and fun. Thanks to Gloria Kempton, Bill Johnson, and Jennie Shortridge for ably dispensing knowledge to the writers gathered and to the attendees for their passion for writing, attentiveness, and friendship. Finally thanks to Lola Sacks of The Center for Contemplative Arts in Manzanita for her help and goodness.

Here’s a quote for you: “The best memoirs seem to be not about a remarkable life, but about a life that is remarkably seen. So much so that readers are able to find the emotional and intellectual strands of their own life in the writer’s.” Thomas Montgomery Fate

And from National Public Radio: “At NPR, we love to hear, and tell, your real-life stories every day. Now, we want to hear your fiction as well. This summer, we're beginning a contest called "Three-Minute Fiction." The premise is simple: Listeners send in original short stories that can be read in three minutes or less — that's usually about 500-600 words long.

James Wood, literary critic for The New Yorker and author of the book How Fiction Works, will serve as NPR's "Three-Minute Fiction" guide. Wood will appear on-air throughout the summer to read his favorite submissions, and we'll also post them here on NPR.org.

Wood tells NPR's Guy Raz that writing a 500-word story "strikes at the very heart of the short story as a project, which is to get something going rapidly." Writing three-minute fiction is good practice. Think, he says, of the masters of the short story, like Anton Chekhov, who began his career writing comic squibs for newspapers.
"This is something that interests all writers, not just short-story writers, but novelists, too," Wood says. "How do you get a character, as it were, into a room and up and going within a sentence or two?"

"One of the most effective ways to get a very short story vivid," he says, "is to think in terms of voice." Maybe the character narrates the story, for example, or perhaps the story is told within the consciousness of the character. "In other words," Wood says, "thinking in terms of the story as a dramatic monologue."
Wood offers a piece by Lydia Davis to show how powerful a very brief short story can be. "For Sixty Cents" is a terse story, just over 200 words, that brings a moment in a Brooklyn coffee shop to life. It's fragmentary and suggestive, like the pieces Wood expects to hear from listeners.

"I'm going to be looking at a writer's ability to suggest a world, rather than to fill it in and dot every i."

Wood's reading of "For Sixty Cents" clocks in at 1 minute, 3 seconds — proof that a good story can be told in three minutes or less.

Now, lend us your imagination. For official rules and to read Davis’ story go to: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=105685925

Here is info sent to me by Valerie Brooks of Oregon Writers Colony:
The Bite Submission

Oregon Writers Colony MEMBERS AND WRITERS!

Opportunity to promote your work at OWC Founder’s Day weekend, August 15 & 16, 2009.

“Take a Bite of Literature!”

OWC is working together with Jeff Goodwin at The Beach Bite in Rockaway Beach to promote writers over OWC Founder’s Day weekend. You don’t have to be present to take part. At his restaurant over the weekend, his staff will distribute to his customers “A Bite of Literature,” a 5 ½ x 11” page with your poem, a first novel paragraph, a short story beginning, or any piece of humor, memoir or non-fiction. These pages will also be distributed at the library reading on Sunday and at Founder’s Day on Sunday.

Send us up to 150 words of your work. Work does not need to be published, but should be examples of your best work. If it has been published, include publication info and copyright permission to reproduce. Don’t forget your name, website and contact info! The Founder’s Day “Take a Bite of Literature” committee will make final selections for distribution.

“The Bite of Literature” page will include your information, OWC info and a sponsorship line and logo from The Beach Bite.

Send your submission to or for further information email Valerie Brooks at
vjbrooks51 (at sign) earthlink dot net.

I write to discover what I know.~ Flannery O'Connor

I read and walked for miles at night along the beach, writing bad blank verse and searching endlessly for someone wonderful who would step out of the darkness and change my life. It never crossed my mind that the person could be me. Anna Quinlen

"Not one day in anyone’s life is an uneventful day, no day without profound meaning, no matter how dull and boring it might seem, no matter whether you are a seamstress or a queen, a shoeshine boy, or a movie star, a renowned philosopher or a Down’s-syndrome child. Because in every day of your life, there are opportunities to perform little kindnesses for others, both by conscious acts of will and unconscious example. Each smallest act of kindness—even just words of hope when they are needed, the remembrance of a birthday, a compliment that engenders a smile—reverberates across great distances and spans of time, affecting lives unknown to the one whose generous spirit was the source of this good echo, because kindness is passed on and grows each time it’s passed, until a simple courtesy becomes an act of selfless courage years later and far away. Likewise, each small meanness, each thoughtless expression of hatred, each envious and bitter act, regardless of how petty, can inspire others, and is therefore the seed that ultimately produces evil fruit, poisoning people whom you have never met and never will. All human lives are so profoundly and intricately entwined—those dead, those living, those generations yet to come—that the fate of all is the fate of each, and the hope of humanity rests in every heart and in every pair of hands. Therefore, after every failure, we are obliged to strive again for success, and when faced with the end of one thing, we must build something new and better in the ashes, just as from pain and grief, we must weave hope, for each of us is a thread critical to the strength—to the very survival of the human tapestry. Every hour in every life contains such often-unrecognized potential to affect the world that the great days and thrilling possibilities are combined always in this momentous day."
— Dean Koontz (From the Corner of His Eye)

Glorious evening here in Portland. File this under people who drive me crazy; or a day in the life; or how not to behave if you're an unpublished/unknown writer. I quote his email below. (And yes, I googled him and he has no writing credits.)

Dear Jessica,
I am pleased to have read your book. It is a very content heavy dissertation on villians, etc. I am an aspiring screenwriter, and yours is the first book I've seen that deals with this subject to any great depth. The only criticism that I have with the text is that there is entirely too much repitition. A number of times you used 3 even 4 adjectives instead of using one or at most 2 to describe your sentence's subject. And I lost count the number of paragraphs that were also unnecessary. I estimate that the book could have been 25% shorter without losing any power at all. Well, I hope you don't think of me as being too harsh. I hope that my critique may be of some value. I do repeat my enjoyment reading this book which covers a very interesting subject quite well.
Best regards,
Phil Klassen

Early here with clouds still blanketing the dawn and a single bird squawking, not singing. I've refrained from writing about politics here for awhile, not because I've stopped caring, but because the same people are up to same crazy actions. Dick Cheney and his family appearing non-stop on every media outlet that will have them --it's all about tainting the jury (the crow bar hotel would loom in his future if the administration and Senate had the stones to prosecute him for war crimes), burnishing his legacy, and because he genuinely dislikes Obama. Then Sarah Palin is as usual vindictive and crazed--her latest dust up with David Letterman proves it. It also proves Letterman suffers from poor taste at times, but I'm sure if he was the governor of say, Alaska, that he wouldn't spout pro-women feminist nonsense while charging rape victims for their rape kits. I've been especially pissed off by the latest wave of domestic violence, exemplified by the murder of Dr. Tiller in Kansas and the nutroll who starting shooting in the Holocaust Museum.

Here's the opening on the subject from Joe Conason's Salon column: "Acts of madness like the killing of George Tiller and Stephen T. Johns can be too easily dismissed as the work of disturbed individuals and then subsumed in the usual rumble of recrimination between left and right. But if we are to understand the deeper implications of those acts of murder, what must be examined is their origin in the shadow world of white nationalism.

Nobody knows more about the movements that spawned the alleged gunmen than Leonard Zeskind, who has spent most of a lifetime observing, analyzing and opposing racism and anti-Semitism in America and abroad. Now he has distilled those hard and dangerous decades of work into "Blood and Politics: The History of the White Nationalist Movement From the Margins to the Mainstream," a magisterial new book that explains how and why racial hatred became and remains a significant political force in American society."

In the column and in the book Zeskind describes how this movement was actually more active during the Reagan era than it is today and the steps that were taken to stop it. Interesting reading since domestic terrorism, including those aimed at women's health clinics and abortion providers is as big a threat as foreign terrorism.

Back to the writing life--hang on to your dreams.

Blue is being leeched from the skies and my neighbors are barbecuing, smoke and meaty smells wafting in from several directions.

I’ve been meaning to post this from Gawker.com: “Last month, San Franciscan literary figure Dave Eggers promised to personally email anyone who feared that print is dead, and cheer them up. He's done it! Here's your full Dave Eggers 'Print Lives' Reassurance Email:

Dear Person Needing Bucking Up,
Hello and thank you so much for writing. I feel honored that you would take the time to reach out and in many cases tell me your very real struggles with writing and work and the future of the printed word.

I have a few thoughts to share, though unfortunately in this space I can't detail all the reasons I think we have a fighting chance at keeping newspapers and books alive in physical form. But before I do blather for a few paragraphs, I should apologize for sending you a mass email.

We’re convinced that the best way to ensure the future of journalism is to create a workable model where journalists are paid well for reporting here and abroad. And that starts with paying for the physical paper. And paying for the physical paper begins with creating a physical object that doesn’t retreat, but instead luxuriates in the beauties of print. We believe that if you use the hell out of the medium, if you give investigative journalism space, if you give photojournalists space, if you give graphic artists and cartoonists space— if you really truly give readers an experience that can’t be duplicated on the web— then they will spend $1 for a copy. And that $1 per copy, plus the revenue from some (but not all that many) ads, will keep the enterprise afloat. Anyway. I would like to say to you good print-loving people that for every dire bit of news there is out there, there is also some good news, too. The main gist of my (rambling) speech at the Author’s Guild was that because I work with kids in San Francisco, I see every day that their enthusiasm for the printed word is no different from that of kids from any other era. Reports that no one reads anymore, especially young people, are greatly overstated and almost always factually lacking. I've written about youth readership elsewhere, but to reiterate: sales of young adult books are actually up. Total volume of all book sales is actually up. Kids get the same things out of books that they have before. Reading in elementary schools and middle schools is no different than any other time. We have work to do with keeping high schoolers reading, but then again, I meet every week with 15 high schoolers in San Francisco, and all we do is read (literary magazines, books, journals, websites, everything) in the process of putting together the Best American Nonrequired Reading. And I have to say these students, 14 to 18 years old, are far better read and more astute than I was at their age, and there are a million other kids around the country just like them.

These kids meet every week at McSweeney's, and things at our small publishing company are stable. We’re a hand-to-mouth operation to be sure, but we haven't had to lay anyone off. To some extent, that's because we're small and independent and have always insisted on staying small and independent. We take on very little risk, and we grow very cautiously. It's our humble opinion that the world will support many more publishers of our size and focus. If you can stay small, stay independent, readers will be loyal, and you'll be able to get by publishing work of merit. Publishing has, for most of its life, been a place of small but somewhat profit margins, and the people involved in publishing were happy to be doing what they loved. It's only recently, when large conglomerates bought so many publishing companies and newspapers, that demands for certain margins squeezed some of the joy out of the business….”

Read the whole piece at http://gawker.com/5277281/dave-eggers-reassures-us-that-print-lives-via-email

Time to light the grill.

NEWS FLASH: I was just out walking a bit. It's almost twilight here with a bank of low-hanging clouds pulling into town overtaking the sky, everything sort of hazy with deep greens bleeding into each other and roses blooming everywhere. Things sort of still and mysterious, yet people still gardening, kids skateboarding, birds twittering. The ballgame at the middle school was ending and a coach took the time to walk a kid to his mom's car and tell her what a great game he played. Went into detail about his moves in the outfield, his times at bat. It was one of the sweetest conversations I've eavesdropped on lately.(I was forced to slow down a smidge.) You hear so much about kids' sports being ruined by adults...this guy was stellar.

But anyway, with one thing or other, I forgot to pick up my mail today and when I returned home found a letter from Zachary Petit the managing editor of Writer's Digest magazine and a copy of the July/August issue. They're running an excerpt from Between the Lines in it about pacing (page 73). Earlier today I was at the Willamette Writers office to have lunch with Bill Johnson, writer and office manager. They're getting ready for their annual conference and the place was humming with the business of helping writers. The conference is from August 7-9 and I'll be teaching 2 workshops there. As I was waiting for Bill to get off the phone I was thumbing through the previous issue of WD, noticing how they've revamped the format and that it is again filled with meaty and helpful articles for writers. So thanks and kudos to Writer's Digest magazine. Besides my article, I'd suggest you check out Your Publishing Survival Guide by Patricia Holt and Hindsight's 20/20 where published authors talk about what they wish they'd known about the publishing process.

Rain is coming down from a sky the color of alabaster. The New York Times is running a Summer Thriller feature on their Opinion page. Here are the opening paragraphs to a story by Lee Childs, A Guy Walks Into a Bar...published on June 7.

"SHE was about 19. No older. Maybe younger. An insurance company would have given her 60 more years to live. I figured a more accurate projection was 36 hours, or 36 minutes if things went wrong from the get-go.

She was blond and blue-eyed, but not American. American girls have a glow, a smoothness, from many generations of plenty. This girl was different. Her ancestors had known hardship and fear. That inheritance was in her face and her movements. Her eyes were wary. Her body was lean. Not the kind of lean you get from a diet, but the Darwinian kind of lean you get when your grandparents had no food — and either starved or didn’t. Her movements were fragile and tense, a little alert, a little nervous, though on the face of it she was having as good a time as a girl could get."


This news arrived from Media Bistro: As the publishing recession continues, the number of self-published books will undoubtedly rise. While these books lack traditional editorial support, a new generation of gatekeepers may help curate this vast sea of content.

This month Amy Edelman will launch IndieReader, a selective marketplace for self-published books. The site will accept submissions from self-published authors, curating a selected amount of titles--accepted members will pay an annual fee to sell books on the site.

Here's more from the site: "Books will be chosen for inclusion on the IndieReader site by a panel of editors, literary agents, and marketing professionals, and all categories of books (except for porn) will be represented. There will be a charge for membership; in exchange, authors will get a sales venue and a web page with its own URL. Authors will set their book's retail price and receive 75% of the sales (the buyer will pay for shipping). Authors will have complete control over the editorial content of their sites with no general restrictions on reviews, interviews, video, and audio."

Keep writing, keep dreaming.

Heading for dusk sky is pearly pale blue. I know I look like a blogging slacker these days with scant entries but I ripped up one of my lower discs last week and at the same time am getting ready for (drumroll please) my SUMMER IN WORDS writing conference. If you haven't spent time at the Oregon coast lately, you should. (especially with me, and my cool comrades, Jennie Shortridge, Bill Johnson, Gloria Kempton, and Kari Luna June 19-21). Now I know if you're reading this you probably live on the other side of the country and cannot hop a plane and join us. But still, come to the Oregon coast. This is advice like if you've never eaten a fresh artichoke, or grown basil, or drank champagne or kissed the dawn, you need to. Soon. And if you haven't been writing lately, bury your excuses and start. I mean, what else brings more meaning to life? (After all, you're too old or not pop enough for American Idol)

But back to my back-aching, not spending enough time at my computer ways. This comes from today's Writer's Almanac: "It was on this day in 1909 that the first woman to drive across the United States, Alice Huyler Ramsey, left New York City for San Francisco. She was 22 years old, a housewife from Hackensack, New Jersey. Her trip got a lot of media attention. In 1909, not many women drove cars, and some doctors thought that it was dangerous for women to even ride in cars because they would get too worked up at more than 20 miles an hour. Alice Huyler Ramsey drove 3,800 miles across the country in a Maxwell 30 with three other women, but she was the only one who knew how to drive. They drove for 41 days and used 11 spare tires. She wrote a book about the trip called Veil, Duster, and Tire Iron (1961). In 2000, she was the first woman inducted into the Automotive Hall of Fame."

To road trips and chicks behind the wheel everywhere. Now.....after the almost summer, soft as silk air starts to change and dusk descends spend a little time with words.....

Clouds, thank God---enough with the heat already! Here a terrific link to a list for writers that I've been meaning to post for awhile--read it and weep, or, fix your writing so you look competent.

The Ten Mistakes
Ten Mistakes Writers Don’t See (But Can Easily Fix When They Do) "Like many editorial consultants, I’ve been concerned about the amount of time I’ve been spending on easy fixes that the author shouldn’t have to pay for.
Sometimes the question of where to put a comma, how to use a verb or why not to repeat a word can be important, even strategic. But most of the time the author either missed that day’s grammar lesson in elementary school or is too close to the manuscript to make corrections before I see it.

So the following is a list I’ll be referring to people *before* they submit anything in writing to anybody (me, agent, publisher, your mom, your boss). From email messages and front-page news in the New York Times to published books and magazine articles, the 10 ouchies listed here crop up everywhere. They’re so pernicious that even respected Internet columnists are not immune.
The list also could be called, “10 COMMON PROBLEMS THAT DISMISS YOU AS AN AMATEUR,” because these mistakes are obvious to literary agents and editors, who may start wording their decline letter by page 5. What a tragedy that would be."

Brief News flash: Just heard from Sarah Lange, associate editor of The Writer magazine and they’re running a review and brief excerpt from Thanks, But This Isn’t For Us in their September issue. On newsstands in early August. I'm serious as a heart attack here: if you write, you should read (and study) The Writer—chock full of gems and useful techniques.

Clouds tinged in purple are brushed against the morning sky and temperatures are going to hit the high 80s again today. Every Tuesday Garrison Keillor has a new essay or opinion piece in salon.com. This week he's written about attending a party and the transcendence that can happen from art:

"And an intensely quiet blond girl, a math whiz, who, with no reluctance, sat down at the piano when I asked her if she played piano, squared her shoulders and played the exquisite Chopin Prelude No. 2 in A minor, the notes of the slow movement like raindrops on birch leaves, smoke drifting by, an anguished old man pacing in the grass, and played it so beautifully it transformed the entire evening.

Transformation is no easy trick: It's what art promises and usually doesn't deliver. But she did. It was a difficult piece, and what she showed us was the intense poetry underneath her calm Lutheran exterior. She borrowed Chopin's passion and made it her own, an astonishment, and then she stood up awkwardly and we all clapped and whooped. It was so much more than what we deserved to hear, which is true of art, a lavish gift of the heart that shames pretense by its outrageous generosity." The Heart of Saturday Night

(Manzanita at sunset) Can you believe it’s already June? Clouds have finally rolled in here after a long spell of heat and sunshine and thunder is rolling off in the distance. A few sprinkles have fallen and the world has that delicious wet rain smell after a dry spell. I’m hoping for more rain since I’ve had enough heat. Did you watch the BEA coverage on CSPAN? I especially enjoyed the talks from Richard Russo, John Irving, Mary Karr and Jeanette Wells. And I realize I’ve been a lazy blogger lately and promise to pay penance in the future with juicier posts.

In the meantime, to borrow a phrase, from the annals of Shameless Commerce—there is still time to attend Summer in Words at the Oregon coast the weekend of June 19-21.
Here’s the skinny: Can you believe it’s already June? Clouds have finally rolled in here after a long spell of heat and sunshine and thunder is rolling off in the distance. A few sprinkles have fallen and the world has that delicious wet rain smell after a dry spell. It’s like the earth is I’m hoping for more rain. I’ve had enough heat. Did you watch the BEA coverage on CSPAN? I especially enjoyed the talks from Richard Russo, John Irving, Mary Karr and Jeanette Wells. And I realize I’ve been a lazy blogger lately and promise to pay penance in the future with juicier posts.

In the meantime, to borrow a phrase, from the annals of Shameless Commerce—there is still time to attend Summer in Words at the Oregon coast the weekend of June 19-21.
Here’s the skinny:


This year's conference kicks off Friday, June 19th with Jessica Morrell’s workshop Writing a Book That Makes a Difference followed by best-selling author Jennie Shortridge’s workshop Writing With and From Your Passions. Friday’s workshops will be followed by an open forum for writers –Out Loud—which gives writers a chance to read their latest works to an audience. It will also feature a raffle with proceeds going to Write Around Portland, an organization that helps people transform their lives through writing.

On Saturday, attendees can look forward to a Question and Answer session with Jessica Morrell and Jennie Shortridge on Getting Published and Staying Published. This session will be followed by Unforgettable Characters workshop taught by Jessica Morrell. Saturday afternoon will feature a luncheon with keynote speaker Gloria Kempton, Chasing the Shadow: Finding the courage to stare down your writing demons. This will be followed by Creating Narrative Tension taught by Bill Johnson and Shadow Writing, part 1 taught by Gloria Kempton.
Sunday will feature part 2 of Gloria Kempton’s Shadow Writing workshop and wrap up with Revising Without Losing It taught by Jessica Morrell.

Manzanita, Oregon is vibrant community on Oregon’s coast also known for its love of the arts and books. The Center for Contemplative Arts serves the region with a variety of arts offerings and personal and spiritual development courses.

Visit any of the instructors websites Bill Johnson www.storyispromise.com,Gloria Kempton www.writersrecharge.com, Jessica Morrell www.writing-life.com, Jennie Shortridge www.jennieshortridge.com.

The registration fee of $180 covers tuition for the three-day conference, Friday Continental breakfast, Saturday lunch and keynote. The cost for the Saturday lunch and keynote is $20. Out Loud, $10.

"Art, it seems to me, should simplify finding what conventions of form and what detail one can do without and yet preserve the spirit of the whole - so that all that one has suppressed and cut away is there to the reader's consciousness as much as if it were in type on the page." Willa Cather

Dawn is breaking in shades of apricot. A few weeks ago I watched Elizabeth Edwards being interviewed on Larry King. Now, I’m not a Larry King fan, but was curious about how he would handle the interview. It was salacious, creepy, garbage-digging, and sad. I know she’s got a book to sell, but yikes, I’m weary of everyone in this country living their lives in public. And was thus thankful when I read the article Join the shame parade in Salon.com by Carino Chocano and agreed with every word.

In part it reads: "Until recently, standard protocol for handling a humiliating personal betrayal in public was to tough it out. This rule applied mainly to public figures who had no choice but to handle such challenges with all eyes on them, like political wives, who were required to stand by their men in purse-lipped silence, hands folded, eyes cast hellward, or celebrities, who were obliged to pretend to work through their painful feelings in public while carefully drawing the line at revealing anything that might jeopardize future career prospects. In both cases, the same general rule held true: The more painful the humiliation, the greater the need to maintain dignity by refusing to stoop to the humiliator's level.

But those days are over. Thanks to the increasingly public nature of our lives, the ranks of people who might find themselves having to deal with private humiliations in public have now expanded to include basically everybody. And a surprising number of people recently have trumpeted their private grievances against the bastards who done them wrong, using whatever means are readily available to them. Ailing wife of the former presidential candidate Elizabeth Edwards, most prominently, used "Oprah," the "Today" show and "The Daily Show" to get back at the tramp who seduced her husband. In January, Prince Harry's ex-girlfriend broke up with him on Facebook. Tony Blair's sister-in-law Facebook-divorced her husband after a fight. A couple of weeks ago, former New Yorker staffer Dan Baum breached the Kremlinesque secrecy of his erstwhile employer when, in the name of transparency, he tweeted the details of his firing while painting a less-than-flattering portrait. And Veronica Lario, the long-suffering wife of Italian Premier Silvio Berlusconi, let her priapic husband have it (predictably with a lot more panache than Edwards) when she publicly accused him of consorting with an 18-year-old and supporting the political ambitions of models and starlets. "The impudence and shamelessness of power offends the credibility of all (women), damages women in general and especially those who have always struggled to defend their rights," Lario said to the Italian news agency ANSA. Sisterhood is powerful, but revenge is pretty sweet, too.”

What do you think?

Blue skies as far as the eye can see....I want to wish everyone a lovely Memorial Day and extend thanks to the members of the military and their families for their service and sacrifices. Also want to send good wishes to veterans recovering from battle or any type of injury.

No clouds in sight this morning. Tricia Clark-McDowell, a writer from Eugene sent me a message a few days ago about the Rhythm of Peace project. Tricia and her husband wrote The Garden Sanctuary and have a lovely place, Cortesia, in the foothills near Eugene, that certainly deserves the name sanctuary. They also write other books about gardening, including how to grow your own victory garden.

Back to the peace project. From the website: We're an informal network of individuals, groups, and organizations that cares about peace and strives to make peace a priority in our busy lives. We use the daily themes (one for each day of the month) to cultivate peace in our homes, families, and workplaces. We invite you to join us. Invitation to new visitors.

It’s almost nightfall here and I was just out walking, and things are settling into a soft, almost-summer feeling and as I walked along I was dwelling on conversations and scenes from the day, thinking about politics and life and writing and a few things I should deal with, but since this hasn’t been an easy week, wanting to avoid. So I was swimming through the neighborhood, simmering in emotions, yet trying to notice the almost-sunset world around me. The sky was an unusual shade of pale blue—unusual here in the spring at dusk when typically clouds are pushed through by the Pacific. People not familiar with this region might not know that the oceanic influences are enormous, that often they arrive with a bluster and amazing cloudscapes as the sun sets in shades of lavender and orange. That is, when the sun is not obscured…..

As I was walking I saw the usual neighbors and dogs and kids and blooms. My neighborhood is a charming mix of bungalows and expensive condos and townhouses, vintage storefronts, historic sites, and yuppie newbie businesses, coffeehouses and bars and pizza places, trendy restaurants, hiking trails, and parks. Lots of trees, lots of flowers and gardens. It feels like a small town in the midst of Portland, and I love that.

So as I was nearing home after spotting the kids in the creek, the dog walkers and joggers, a car abruptly pulled up near me and a woman about 60 jumped out. She then dumped a skateboard on the grass with a flourish and started back for her car. Seeing me she said, “I should apologize.”

I replied, “No apologies necessary, but I must confess, your actions looked sort of like a short story.”

She said, “I’ve raised two generations and this is a thirteen year old’s and I’m tired.” She had gray hair twisted into a topknot and wore glasses and a lifetime of tired came through her words and I said, “I understand.”

And kept walking and was thinking that she must have been at home, comfortable in her recliner in front of the television, when a call came demanding that she drop off the skateboard so her grandson could take it to school.

Earlier I was at a salon getting a pedicure with a friend. Across from us in the oh-too-glittery place were four women chatting and can I just say, way too loudly and expressively. At one point a woman with the worst platinum-blond look I’ve seen in years (think dive strip joint) declared "I told my husband if my face gets as ugly as my feet, just shoot me." She really shouldn’t have said that.

I fear I’m growing catty and I haven’t even started talking about politics. More to come.

From Adrienne Rich: "Poetry is the liquid voice that can wear through stone."

Clouds are moving in, crowding out the sky and the temperature has dropped about 20 degrees in the past hour. Last night I went to Powells (another reason for living in Portland) to hear George Pelecanos talk about his career and read from his latest book, The Way Home. The segment that he read was so gritty and realistic you felt like you were in the joint (since it was a juvenile prison) with the characters. Pelecanos is the author of fifteen crime novels set in and around Washington D.C. and his stories burn with the life and pain of his characters. And his dialogue…yikes, it’s just amazing. About half the audience were mystery readers; about half were there to ask questions about his writing for the HBO series The Wire. And good news, he’s writing now for a new HBO series set in New Orleans and based on the lives of musicians knitting their lives back together after Hurricane Katrina.

“I always wanted to tell stories in some form. I thought I would be a filmmaker but I got sidetracked by a professor in college who turned me on to books. It wasn't until my first novel was published that I actually thought of myself as a writer. But your point about being a writer-in-training is well taken. I learned my craft while on the job, and I continue to do so.

My subject matter and the attendant language is indeed unvarnished. With the world I'm trying to explore, it has to be or the novel fails; in effect, to back away from it would be akin to a lie. The aim is to make it reportorial without trying to be dark or "street."

Pop culture—music and movies—plays a large role in our everyday lives. You're going to see it creep into the fiction of younger writers with more frequency because it's a natural element of our generation's psyche. Again, it has to be done organically or it doesn't work.”

Clouds have moved in, obscuring the blue, but summer weather is on the way. Here’s a lovely quote that to me sounds like an outline for a novel:

"In life we all have an unspeakable secret, an irreversible regret, an “unreachable dream, and an unforgettable love." Diego Marchi

And here is information that was sent to me by Dennis Stovall at Portland State:
Friday, May 29, 2009
Portland State University
Smith Memorial Student Union Hall
Portland, OR 97201

Join Ooligan Press on Friday, May 29th for a full day of education on publishing for writers and a free informational open house. Seminars will be offered on subjects including copyright, finding a publisher, polishing your manuscript, self publishing, and graphic novel publishing.

In addition, Ooligan Press acquisitions will be hosting a pitch table.

More details: www.ooliganpress.pdx.edu

Cost Varies- student discount available

Ticket Phone 503.725.3307
Ticket Web Link www.boxoffice.pdx.edu

Or register on the day, at the door. If you have further questions, email: ooligan@pdx.edu.

In case you haven't read Frank Rich's op-ed in yesterday's New York Times, you might want to check it out:The American Press on Suicide Watch
By FRANK RICH
Published: May 9, 2009

"IF you wanted to pick the moment when the American news business went on suicide watch, it was almost exactly three years ago. That’s when Stephen Colbert, appearing at the annual White House Correspondents’ Association dinner, delivered a monologue accusing his hosts of being stenographers who had, in essence, let the Bush White House get away with murder (or at least the war in Iraq). To prove the point, the partying journalists in the Washington Hilton ballroom could be seen (courtesy of C-Span) fawning over government potentates — in some cases the very “sources” who had fed all those fictional sightings of Saddam Hussein’s W.M.D."

Rich assures us that “not all is bleak on the Titanic” and concludes with "The real question is for the public, not journalists: Does it want to pony up for news, whatever the media that prevail?

It’s all a matter of priorities. Not long ago, we laughed at the idea of pay TV. Free television was considered an inalienable American right (as long as it was paid for by advertisers). Then cable and satellite became the national standard.
By all means let’s mock the old mainstream media as they preen and party on in a Washington ballroom. Let’s deplore the tabloid journalism that, like the cockroach, will always be with us. But if a comprehensive array of real news is to be part of the picture as well, the time will soon arrive for us to put up or shut up. Whatever shape journalism ultimately takes in America, make no mistake that in the end we will get what we pay for.”

Blue sky peeking out from behind the clouds and rain is in the forecast.

Calling all Writers: Saturday, May 16 is Write Your A** Off Day
John Simpson has posted a blog entry about Saturday, May 16--or Write Your A** Off Day. Here’s part of his post: The blogosphere — or maybe it’s just the corner I’ve been mostly visiting, the one with the writers and other assorted wordsmiths — seems to have been overtaken by despair recently. Or maybe it’s not despair, exactly. Maybe more like anomie, a sort of formless uncertainty about the whole enterprise of getting language onto paper or screen, into lyrics and scripts.

Many people mutter, darkly, about the prospect of ever getting published — traditionally, or even at all. Others just want to take a break. Go on hiatus. Explore other creative avenues. Bug out.

Hmm.

I think we could all use a shot in the arm. Maybe we need to take a page from the New York Writers Coalition, which has designated next Saturday, May 16th, as their 4th Annual Write Your A** Off Day (or, less in-your-face, the Write-a-Thon).”

Sky mostly blue this morning. I'm heading off to Marylhurst University in a few hours because my friend Marian Pierce is teaching a course on how to get published and I'm one of her guest speakers.

From the Writer's Almananc: Today is the birthday of poet Mona Van Duyn who said,
"I believe that good poetry can be as ornate as a cathedral or as bare as a pottingshed, as long as it confronts the self with honesty and fullness. Nobody is born with the capacity to perform this act of confrontation, in poetry or anywhere else; one's writing career is simply a continuing effort to increase one's skill at it."

Pale clouds are brushed across the sky, but I'm giving up on describing the weather here because it's likely to change every ten minutes. Like yesterday when there was a downpour, followed by a sun break, then rain, sun, rain, sun, clouds breaking up, sun, rain, more sun, etc.

Portland is a town of political activists, optimists, and arty types. As I'm driving along I like to spot new bumper stickers, since there seems to be more on cars here than in other places. Yesterday I saw: People who give up their dreams will try to discourage yours.

And Jennie Shortridge sent out an email yesterday that talked about optimism in hard times. It included a quote from Louisa May Alcott: "Far away there in the sunshine are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to follow them." Jennie's upcoming book When She Flew will be published November 3.

Here's a writing opportunity for writers:
Ink-Filled Page quarterly literary journal is seeking submissions of fiction, nonfiction, and artwork.
Literary Submissions

Fiction submissions can be short stories or novel excerpts, and the nonfiction section is open to personal narratives and essays. While all genres are welcome, special interests include:
• travel
• multicultural themes
• feminism
• magical realism
• flash fiction
We are specifically looking for fresh, untold stories and unique voices that draw us into the world of the story. While we know and love many Jo(h)ns, we are inundated by character Jo(h)ns. We ask that you only submit characters by that name if it is necessary for the story.

Limit submissions to 5,000 words, one submission per candidate. Authors who submit more than one piece will not be considered. Electronic submissions only.

All literary submissions must be written for an English-reading audience. By submitting a story to Ink-Filled Page, you confirm that you are the sole creator of the story and that you hold all rights to your piece.

Artwork Submissions

Artwork submissions are open to all mediums, but pieces must be submitted electronically. Winning pieces are selected based on composition and originality. Pieces will be published in color in the online quarterly issue and in black and white in the print anthology. Please submit pieces that will translate well in both contexts. We are looking for pieces that highlight the human experience—show us the good or the bad, be surreal or real, but make sure that whatever you submit connects us, human to human.Limit three submissions per candidate. Artists who submit more than three pieces will not be considered. Submit print-ready digital artwork at 300 dpi or higher. By submitting your artwork to Ink-Filled Page, you confirm that you are the sole creator of said artwork and that you hold all rights to your piece.

****

Selected authors and artists earn publication and will receive a complimentary subscription to all four quarterly issues in the volume in which they are published, as well as a complimentary copy of the annual anthology when it is released in October 2009. Contributors may buy additional copies of the anthology for 10% off. Authors will also receive professional editing services on the selected story. All contributors will have the opportunity to participate in readings and art shows to feature Ink-Filled Page work.

Submission deadline for the summer issue is May 31.

Winning submissions are chosen by a guest acquisitions editor, who is different with each issue. Authors and artists who submit pieces that are not selected are welcome to resubmit during later open submission periods.

All work must be original and unpublished by any other literary publication. Simultaneous submissions are accepted on the condition that you notify us immediately upon acceptance by another publication. By submitting your work to Ink-Filled Page, you agree to the Terms and Conditions.

For best results, read our publication by downloading the most recent issue and buying an anthology before you submit.

http://www.indigoediting.com/ifp

Yes sir, that's my baby--my almost-born baby that is. When I figure out how to make the cover bigger I'll post it because the design is a hoot.

“To publish one story, encouraging and pleasant as that may be, is not the key. The key is to find the place in you where the stories you can write – want to write, even need to write – are. The thing is not merely to get there and bring back a single story, not to find a single piece of glowing amber, but then learn to recognize the glow, to study the route to the place of the stories, so that you can find your way back there again, even if the walls of the tunnel have caved in behind you on your way out.” ~Thomas E. Kennedy

Blue skies and mild temperatures again. For the memoirists who are there out there a new book edited by Jennifer Traig, The Autobiographer’s Handbook sounds useful. It contains the wisdom of 41 memoirists including David Eggers, Firoozeh Dumas, and Nick Hornby.

Quoting The Wall Street Journal review: Esmeralda Santiago, author of "When I Was Puerto Rican," tells us: "My only policies in writing about other people is never to be mean, even if they were, and to resist the urge to get even with all the jerks and ignoramuses that have crossed my path…..
To be fair, The Autobiographer's Handbook does contain some less elevated advice, most of it from hardheaded veterans of the genre. For instance, Anthony Swofford, the author of "Jarhead: A Marine's Chronicle of the Gulf War and Other Battles," has this to say about the tricky business of actually sitting down to write: "Wake up. Drink coffee.

Write. Ignore phone, ignore email, ignore world. It will all be there when you are done.

Just don't ignore your lovers for too long. They might not stick around." Nick Hornby, whose reputation was made by "Fever Pitch," his memoir of being a soccer fan, warns against being too indiscreet about family members: "So when you're writing your memoir, imagine this: your next door neighbors will read it. Your dad's boss will read it. Your mother's book group will read it. You still think that joke about your sister's acne is worth it?"

Yet even these old hands are reluctant to admit that a memoirist may be driven by less than honorable motives, such as the desire to settle scores, become famous or get on the best-seller list. I've written two memoirs and those three goals were certainly uppermost in my mind. According to the pen-pushing idealists of "The Autobiographer's Handbook," the only personal gain to be had from writing a memoir is the money you'll save on therapy bills. "And when I got it all down, and didn't have a mental breakdown, I knew I could handle anything -- it was so freeing," says Rachel Howard, the author of a memoir about the murder of her father.

Skies the color of pale pewter although the sun is supposed to break through later. I have lilacs sitting next to my computer screen perfuming the whole room. When I went out walking last night I chanced on a bush bent over from rain, kissing the sidewalk. Clearly the blossoms needed liberating.

As I mentioned, Portland is a writer’s town. Last night I had dinner with four local writer/s authors and we heard from April Henry that her latest book has hit The New York Times bestseller’s list. Which means, she said, that this fact will appear in her obituary. Which brought on a laugh from all of us, about how what is written in your obituary is what counts….April is a mystery writer and the best seller is Face of Betrayal (A Triple Threat Novel) co-written with Fox News Legal Analyst Lis Wiel. After I returned home last night I checked out April’s blog

And if you read down her blog page you’ll learn that Dennis Lehane (author best known for Mystic River) is bringing back his series characters Angie Gennaro and Patrick Kenzie in his next book—yee hah. Meanwhile Lehane’s latest book is The Given Day—a historical. Haven’t read it yet, but it’s on my list.

Another writer in the group is Cathy Lamb. I first met Cathy in the mid-90s when she was trying to break in at Harelquin and was attending my classes. I noticed right away that she was smart, funny, talented, and most important for a writer, persistent. She explained last night why writing romance didn’t work out, how at one point she waited two years for a response to a manuscript that she sent them. She now writes women’s fiction and her first book Julia’s Chocolates did well and her fourth novel is Henry’s Sisters will be available July 29.

At her site she describes her upcoming book: “Each of the sisters in the book has, let’s see… what’s a kind way of putting it? They have ISSUES. Major issues. The brother is gentle and dear and has special abilities.

This is a story about a family that’s fallen apart and ends up being put back together again. It’s about a Queen Anne house, a bakery, a motorcycle, a mid life crisis Corvette, flowery smelling pink letters, an amusing divorce, burning bras, a crime writer, love, a kid who studies different religions each week, fear, giant cupcakes, a lost father, and a disastrous childhood partially spent living in a car.”

We also chatted about marketing strategies—the question is how much time do you spend promoting your books when you need to be writing the next one? Plugging books takes a huge commitment of time, money, and energy. Our group was divided on the value of it. I’m still thinking about it all…..The bottom line is that if you’re going to promote your work you need to choose your methods carefully. Some writers I know spend all their time on the road promoting and seem to me more hucksters than authors. Some don’t do a darn thing. The best advice I can give at this stage is write a book that you want to read and then reserve at least 10 percent of your advance for marketing. That way you can at least mail out review copies and have a professional head shot taken.

And I’m happy Allison made it to the top 4 on American Idol—she’s got star splashed all over her raspy-as-whiskey-oh-so-cool voice.

Cloud cover. That’s all I’m going to say. Since I started working on my latest book, I’ve been thinking about my clients’ manuscripts that I’ve read over the years and the most common problems that occur. When writing fiction and memoir, it can be particularly tricky to depict emotions accurately and with enough nuance. For example, a writer will depict a character’s unease by his stammer, or blush, or hands trembling. Usually again and again. And usually to the exclusion of other emotions.

What seems important to remember is that emotions come in many shades and gradations. Most of us don’t immediately explode in fury without provocation—there are steps leading up to it. (now if you do, that’s a problem for a mental health professional, not a writing coach) Neither does everyone react the same way to loss, stress, infidelity, betrayal, or free plane tickets to Paris.

Go through life noticing how emotions flicker across people’s faces: anger, angst, arousal, bitter, boredom, confidence, confusion, contempt, determination, disappointment, disgust, distrust, embarrassment, envy, fear, hostility, irritation, melancholy, paralyzed, passivity, perplexed, playful, relaxed, reproach, restlessness, sadness, shy, serene, sorrow, stupefied, surprise, suspicion, thrilled, uncertain, vulnerable….

How can you put this into words or express in dialogue or action?

Then too make sure that you’re not using clichéd reactions such as a lump in the throat, heart pounding or racing,or a single tear glistening on a heroine’s cheek.

Know how far your character will go when pushed, angry, desperate, aroused, frightened.
Mix it up, make it real, make it in sync with each individual.

Praying

It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

~ Mary Oliver ~

Dawn is cracking open the sky and spring still is enchanting here—flowers and flowering trees blooming everywhere, the air sweet smelling and soft and new. Even if you don’t live in Portland, you probably know that Portland is this ultra-cool place, this place of beauty, green and hopes like no other on the West coast. Minus the Hollywood scrabbling attitude and Botox stretching every other face. Portland is a place of gardens, parks, and more coffee shops and fabulous restaurants that you could shake a stick at, as my grandmother used to say. I’m so happy I live here, especially in the spring when the whole world is a gigantic, perfumed garden, so magical that I can hardly express it.

But back to Portland cool. This is also a writer’s town and it’s got Willamette Writers, The Oregon Writer’s Colony, Wordstock, Glimmertrain, Powells and a slew of other independent book stores, Portland Arts and Lecture series, famous cool writers like Chuck Palahniuk and Chelsea Cain and Ursula LeGuin. You cannot visit a coffee shop without tripping over writers huddled in corners tapping away on their laptops or swing a dead cat without hitting someone writing a memoir or publishing a chapbook. There’s a place in Portland called the Writers Dojo. It’s in a neighborhood called St. Johns in the northeast area of the city. St. Johns formerly a separate town and then a divey neighborhood, now a new venue of hipdom and arty types. There’s a magnificent bridge there spanning the Willamette River and a writer’s dojo located there now and they’ve started an online magazine called Write. Here’s the latest lead story from author Karen Karbo, Portland, resident called The Dining Room:

“You live with your parents in an apartment building called The Something Arms in Sherman Oaks, a sun-blasted suburb of Los Angeles. The building is standard Sun Belt issues, white stucco flecked with gold, a rectangular swimming pool with no diving board, a panel of mailboxes just inside the front gate. You live in an upstairs apartment overlooking the Dumpsters. Your dining room table is a card table, your dining room is the kitchen side of the living room. They are just starting out, your parents. It is 1962.

Every stuffy apartment has a kid or two in it. All you need to go swimming is one adult sitting poolside. It is usually a mother. It is usually your mother, who can’t swim herself, who is allergic to the sun but has an itch, always, to be out of the apartment. She is a woman with itches, your mother. Days before she dies she will admit as much. She will tell you she was born in the wrong time. She will tell you she should have been you.” The Dining Room” originally appeared in the anthology Home: American Writers Remember Rooms of Their Own published by Pantheon in 1995 and is reprinted here by permission of the author.

Clouds smeared across the morning sky.
When I talk with writers about the reality of writing I explain that in the beginning the words and scenes that exist in our imaginations often don’t translate onto the page. In fact there can be a gigantic gap between what we dream and what we write. The only way to shrink that gap is to keep writing, keep practicing. But most of all, we cannot postpone writing for that elusive some day.

Our fantasies about writing will never equal reality. It’s more tedium than glamour, more diligence than inspiration. Avoidance is a natural response to hard work, like Tom Sawyer conning his pals into painting Aunt Polly’s fence. But avoidance only brings immediate relief, not lasting satisfaction. Procrastination keeps us standing on the outside looking in at our work, our dreams. This is a painful stance. It is just a delaying tactic; imagining yourself writing, dreaming elaborate visions of success, but not doing the work. Once you begin you enter a whole new world. A world that is less glamorous than your fantasies, but much more satisfying.

Summer has left the building and large, low-hanging clouds have obliterated the formerly blue skies. Happy Earth Day to all.

A big congratulations to W.S. Merwin for winning his second Pulitzer for his latest poetry collection, The Shadow of Sirius. I was running errands yesterday—I’m looking for a balance board for my rehab program—when I heard Terry Gross replay her interview with Merwin, first taped in December. To close the program he read his poem Rain Light and I was mesmerized. This is my favorite first line of a poem. To hear the interview visit Fresh Air.

Rain Light ©W. S. Merwin
All day the stars watch from long ago
my mother said I am going now
when you are alone you will be all right
whether or not you know you will know
look at the old house in the dawn rain
all the flowers are forms of water
the sun reminds them through a white cloud
touches the patchwork spread on the hill
the washed colors of the afterlife
that lived there long before you were born
see how they wake without a question
even though the whole world is burning

And if Merwin comes to your town to speak, don’t miss the opportunity to see and hear him in person. He’s in his eighties now and a national treasure.

This year's winners also included Elizabeth Strout in the Fiction category for her short story collection Olive Kitteridge . Lynn Nottage carried away the prize in the Drama category for her play Ruined, set in the Democratic Republic of Congo.

The Las Vegas Sun and The New York Times staff were rewarded for Public Service and Breaking News Reporting respectively, while Lane DeGregory of the St. Petersburg Times won the Feature Writing award, and Eugene Robinson of The Washington Post walked away with the Commentary prize. For a complete list of winners, you can visit Pulitzer.org. A fleshed-out list of finalists is also included.

Also, folks the government does listen some times. If you want those crafty folks in the Bush administration who approved torture techniques as were outlined in the “torture memos” that have come to light, you can contact Attorney General Eric Holder’s office at 202-514-2001. I see Cheney’s fingerprints all over this policy don’t you? Is that why he’s flapping his jaws on Fox News and other conservative media outlets these days?

Morning sky is pale blue and we’re expecting temperatures in the 80s again. A few summers ago a bird took up residence on the phone wires near my place and sang all day, all night. With only a few pauses for breath, or whatever birds pause for. I swear he didn’t eat. Last summer he wasn’t around. This summer the same birdsong is coming from nearby treetops. I’m so amazed at the capacity of these tiny creatures to sing all day. I wonder what the human equivalent would be? Perhaps writing War and Peace longhand?

I’ve been falling behind in blogging lately—but have edited the copyedited draft of my manuscript from Tarcher. A few more steps and that baby is going to press.

So in the midst of my editing I forgot to post several notes. First, I read a review of Slang: The People's Poetry. by Michael Adam. According to the reviewer: “That "Slang" is so slim, concise and lively is proof of Adams' commitment to the idea of language as something that's living, breathing and constantly changing. If you've even been trapped at a dinner party or a lecture (depending on the guests, sometimes they're indistinguishable), listening to an alleged person of letters use as many of them as possible to express how much he or she "loves words," you'll be grateful for Adams' concision. "Slang" is a gem that Adams has taken great care in cutting and polishing. Unlike so many academics -- Adams is an assistant professor of English at Indiana University -- he doesn't feel the need to give us the whole damn diamond mine.”

Then there were two author’s birthdays last week: Novelist and essayist Cynthia Ozick, She is the author of The Messiah of Stockholm (1987) and The Puttermesser Papers (1997). She said: "The sentence is my primary element, my tool, goal, bliss. Each new sentence is a heart-in-the mouth experiment."

Another birthday person is Irish poet Brendan Kennelly, born in Ballylongford, County Kerry (1936). He's a literature professor at Trinity College in Dublin, and a very popular poet — he has published more than 20 books of poems. He said, "To be born in Ireland is to inherit not only one of the most beautiful little countries in the world, but also an entire legacy of prejudices, hatreds, clichés, and an impressive supply of apparently invincible ignorance." One of his best-known works is Cromwell (1983), a book-length poem about the English leader who invaded Ireland in the mid-1700s and sought to wipe-out Catholicism. Another of his books is The Book of Judas (1991), a 400-page epic poem from Judas's point of view. He said: "Poetry is, above all, a singing art of natural and magical connection because, though it is born out of one's person's solitude, it has the ability to reach out and touch in a humane and warmly illuminating way the solitude, even the loneliness, of others. That is why, to me, poetry is one of the most vital treasures that humanity possesses; it is a bridge between separated souls." (from the Writer’s Almanac)

Oh yes, and Charlie Huston's latest book, The Mystic Arts of Erasing All Signs of Death is combustible, nonstop, blistering, cannot put it down thrill ride. That is if you can describe a story about cleaning up after dead people fun. I felt jacked up on life while reading it--as if I was living and cringing amid the story events. He writes the sassiest, wickedest, most true-life, damn-I-wish-I- would-have-said-that dialogue in the business. And if you're writing an anti-hero with a traumatic past, he's the boy to read.
Keep writing!

Happy Tax Day to all. I'm not part of tea bag protests, and I'm not so sure that anything sponsored by Fox News could be called "grassroots." But if you read this blog you know I protest here in my own way, especially about political stupidity and corruption. And then I write about writing, because that's what I do with my life.

Elie Wiesel, was freed from Buchenwald concentration camp and went on to write more than 50 books, including his memoir, Night (1958). In 1986, he won the Nobel Peace Prize. He said: "The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference." (from The Writer's Almanac)

Just wanted to note that it's the birthday of one of my writing heroes, investigative journalist Seymour Hersh, born in Chicago, Illinois (1937). He has written for The New Yorker for many years. He said, "I don't make deals, I don't party and drink with sources, and I don't play a game of leaks. I read, I listen, I squirrel information. It's fun." (from The Writer's Almanac}

Skies are a promising shade of blue and temperatures are going to be in the 70s again today. Woohoo!
Here's the information on Summer In Words Conference at Manzanita, Oregon, June 19-21
Center for Contemplative Arts, Manzanita, Oregon
Passion for Words: Instruction, enlightenment, and a passion infusion.

Friday, June 19
9:00-9:30 Registration/Continental Breakfast
9:30-12 Writing a Book that Makes a Difference, Jessica Morrell
Write an important book that expresses the music of your heart or your deepest concerns or interests. We’ll discuss how your book can touch a reader’s imagination and life; how to choose a format, focus on themes, develop your voice, and leave a creative legacy.
12:30-2 Free Time
2-5:00 Writing With and From Your Passions, Jennie Shortridge
Forget the old adage, "Write what you know." Write what you are passionate about to enliven your prose, your characters, and your story. Session includes brainstorming, story modeling, and writing exercises to bring forth a breakthrough essay, novel or story.
6:30-9 p.m. Out Loud—an open forum for writers.

Saturday, June 20
9:00-10:00 Q & A: Getting Published and Staying Published, Jessica Morrell, Jennie Shortridge
10:15- 11:45 Unforgettable Characters, Jessica Morrell
After a fiction plot fades from a reader’s memory, the characters linger with a physical presence, a twinkle of personality, unforgettable actions, and their happy or sad fates. We’ll cover character roles, dominant traits, emotional needs, and character arc.
12-1 Lunch and Keynote by Gloria Kempton Chasing the Shadow: Finding the courage to stare down your writing demons
1:15-3:15 Creating Narrative Tension, Bill Johnson
When readers feel tension they’ll keep turning pages to experience the relief offered by a story's resolution. To create this tension, a crucial ingredient must be set in motion. This workshop will teach how to recognize how narrative tension is created in popular fiction.
3:30-5:00 Shadow Writing, Part 1, Gloria Kempton
Writing is so hard at times because we’re often only skimming the surface of the truth that lies beneath. We all have a shadow where the richest of writing material resides; our most authentic passions, obsessions, longings, desires, intentions, and dreams. Learn to unlock the most creative and honest part of your writing self and bring it into the open.

Sunday, June 21
9:45-11 Shadow Writing, Part 2, Gloria Kempton
11:15-12:15 Revising Without Losing It, Jessica Morrell
First comes the blank page and how to fill it, then comes the rough draft and how to fix it. Most often it is in the revision process that the real writing is accomplished. Learn how to whip a manuscript into shape so that it’s polished and ready for submission.
12:15 Closing remarks and raffle
Summer With Words: Details for Registration
Pricing: Friday workshops only: $70 / Out Loud only: $10
Saturday workshops only: $70 / Saturday sessions, lunch& keynote: $80
Saturday Lunch & Keynote Only: $20
Sunday workshops: $40
Cost for all 3 days, including keynote speaker, lunch, and Out Loud: $180
Manuscript evaluations are available.

Space is limited so we recommend that you sign up early. To reserve your space contact Summer in Words at jessicapage at spiritone.com to be sent a registration form. Please note a deposit is required to hold your place. A confirmation e-mail as well as a follow-up emails on lodging and other information including merchant discounts will be sent via email or snail mail. Manzanita, Oregon, is charming village located in Tillamook County on the Northern Oregon coast. Traveling to Manzanita from Portland takes about two hours, traveling west via Highway 26, then south on Hwy 101. It is located 13 miles south of Cannon Beach and 25 miles north of Tillamook.

Instructor Biographies
Bill Johnson is author of A Story is a Promise and Deep Characterization, a workbook; web master of Essays on the Craft of Dramatic Writing, (www.storyispromise.com); and host of Oregon Writers Speak, a site on YouTube with video clips of Oregon authors. Bill teaches writing workshops around the U.S., including the Southern California Writing Conference, Surrey Writing Conference, and the Expo Screenwriting Conference in L.A. Bill is a produced playwright, optioned screenwriter, and has read manuscript submissions for a literary agent.

Gloria Kempton is an author, writing coach and former magazine and book editor. She is the author of Love One Another, Forgive One Another, and The Passionate Edge, and two young adult novels, Jocelyn and Andrea. Write Great Fiction: Dialogue was published by Writer’s Digest Books in 2004. She’s a contributing editor to Writer’s Digest and an instructor with www.WritersOnlineWorkshops.com and www.writers.com. Kempton also conducts workshops at writer’s conferences across the country including the National Writer’s Association Conference, the Pacific Northwest Writer’s Conference, and the Maui Writer’s Conference. Contact her at www.writersrecharge.com

Jessica Page Morrell is the author of the upcoming Thanks, But This Isn’t For Us and Bullies, Bastards & Bitches: How to Write the Bad Guys in Fiction, The Writer’s I Ching: Wisdom for the Creative Life, Voices from the Street, Between the Lines: Master The Subtle Elements Of Fiction Writing, and Writing Out the Storm. She works as a developmental editor and teaches workshops in the Northwest, at writing conferences throughout North America, and at Evergreen College in Olympia, Washington. She was formerly the writing expert at iVillage.com, has contributed to The Writer and Writer’s Digest magazines, and hosts a Web site at www.writing-life.com.

Jennie Shortridge Bestselling author Jennie Shortridge has three published novels: Riding with the Queen, Eating Heaven, and Love and Biology at the Center of the Universe. Her fourth book, When She Flew, will be published November. 2009. Prior to writing novels, her nonfiction work appeared regularly in magazines and newspapers, including Glamour, Mademoiselle, Natural Home, and others.

When I speak of writing, the image that comes first to my mind is not a novel, a poem, or a literary tradition; it is the person who shuts himself up in a room, sits down at a table, and alone, turns inward. Amid his shadows, he builds a new world with words. ~ Orhan Pamuk

There are pale lavender bands streaming across the sky this morning and the temperature is supposed to reach the 70s today. This blog is a mishmash of tidbits. I try not to bitch about politics too much here, but the Obama finance team is driving me crazy. Talk about the foxes watching the henhouse! Sometimes don’t you get the impression that many politicians think the American people are idiots. We need to speak up. For example, here is tidbit from Glen Greenwald’s column: Lawrence H. Summers, one of President Obama's top economic advisers, collected roughly $5.2 million in compensation from hedge fund D.E. Shaw over the past year and was paid more than $2.7 million in speaking fees by several troubled Wall Street firms and other organizations. . . .

Financial institutions including JP Morgan Chase, Citigroup, Goldman Sachs, Lehman Brothers and Merrill Lynch paid Summers for speaking appearances in 2008. Fees ranged from $45,000 for a Nov. 12 Merrill Lynch appearance to $135,000 for an April 16 visit to Goldman Sachs, according to his disclosure form.

$135,000 is not onlya hefty pay check for a single visit, but what’s really disturbing is that in April either Clinton or Obama were likely winners in the election so Summers current position as a government big wig. Or, as Greenwald writes, “It’s basically an advanced bribe. And it’s paying off in spades.”

But if you don’t believe me, take a look at the transcript from Bill Moyer’s most recent show when Professor William Black outlined how Tim Geithner was involved in a massive fraud and how he and Summers were involved in blocking regulation. It’s positively chilling. Didn’t we have enough of this sort of corruption under the Bush administration? The interview can be seen here and the transcript is here. Read it or watch it and weep.

And speaking of Bill Moyers—he interviewed both Glen Greenwald and Amy Goodman for recently winning the I.F. Stone Award. Congratulations to both of these fine journalists. They were on the show to discuss the media’s role in this on-going corruption. It’s been a long time since I thought of I.F. Stone and it was lovely to remember a writer of such passion and integrity.

Here’s another tidbit from Jim Hightower explaining how to “too big to fail” really means too big to regulate: “A new report by Wallstreetwatch.org reveals that from 1998 to 2008, the finance industry made $1.7 billion in contributions to Washington politicians (55 percent to Repubs, 45 percent to Dems), spent $3.4 billion on lobbyists (3,000 of them on the industry payroll in 2007 alone) and won a dozen key deregulatory victories that led directly to today's financial meltdown.”

Grey, grey skies here and this morning I woke at 6 and switched on CNN to check out the protestors at the G20 Summit in London. And was surprised to see the tens of thousands and their tents parked in the midst of busy London as bankers are camouflaged for the day in jeans and t-shirts. The people are shouting “shame on you” and calling today “Financial Fool’s Day”, smashing windows at the Royal Bank of Scotland which awarded a $1 million lifetime pension to its CEO. Meanwhile, in France workers at the Caterpillar plant have taken their bosses hostage after it was announced that 700 jobs were going to be cut. I wonder where all this populist outrage will lead us—in the 60s it led to better things. Is anyone listening?

I was talking to members of Oregon Press Women on Saturday on the demise of the newspapers. Many of the members are free lance journalists and their gigs have dried up or are dwindling. I posed the question--what will a democracy be like without a press—after all, the Founding Fathers thought freedom of speech so important that they rolled it into the First Amendment. We talked about Rupert Murdock's influence on the news and the death of the Rocky Mountain News and the Seattle Post-Intelligencer. But now the Chicago Sun-Times has filed for bankruptcy protection, the San Francisco Chronicle is likely going down, and even the venerable The New York Times is on life support. What this world needs is more investigative reporters not more bloggers (myself included.)

And the corruption charges against former senator Ted Stevens have been dismissed. Sigh.

On to better news--it’s National Poetry Month, inaugurated in 1996—so happy April to all and you can visit poets.org to find a calendar about worldwide celebrations. Also, if like me you like poems arriving in your in box, beginning today, Poets.org sends one new poem to each day to celebrate National Poetry Month. The poems have been selected from new books published in the spring.