Tag: Life

He said, she said

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

He would have said alert but she’d counter twitchy
He would have said observant but she’d counter oblivious

He would have said free-thinking but she’d counter too serious
He would have said independent but she’d counter aloof

He would have said sensitive but she’d counter nervous
He would have said inquisitive but she’d say he rarely asks questions

He would have said accepting but she’d counter indecisive
He would have said nurturing but she’d counter cold

He would have said serious but she’d counter silent
He would have said playful but she’d counter negative

He would have said witty but she’d counter legalistic

He would have said intelligent but she’d counter uptight

He would have said slightly bent but she’d counter insecure
He would have said self-sufficient but she’d counter evasive

He would have said caring but she’d counter mean
He would have said spiritual but she’d ask how that makes him a better person

He would have said spirited but she’d counter lazy
He would have said somewhat reserved but she’d counter socially deficient

He would have said somewhat shy but she’d counter loner
He would have said elitist in quest of excellence and quality but she’d counter self-centered

He would have said egalitarian in opportunity and expectation but she’d counter workaholic
He would have said outdoorsy but she’d counter escapist

He would have said rainbow chaser but she’d counter impractical
He would have said aging but she’d agree

He would have said youthful but she’d counter bald
He would have said honest, direct but she’d counter defensive

He would have said exploring but she’d counter unemotional
He would have said hedonist but she’d counter lazy

He would have said ascetic but she’d counter dull
He would have said a bit gallant but she’d counter straight-laced

He would have said organized but she’d notice he rarely dusts furniture
He would have said self-starter but she’d counter with a list of projects

He would have said visionary but she’d counter icy
He would have said original but she’d counter quirky

He would have said inventive but she’d counter weird
He would have said creative but she’d counter unrealistic

He would have said hopeful but she’d counter inexpressive
He would have said responsive but she’d counter boring

He would have said kind, gentle but she’d counter too serious
He would have said frugal but she’d counter tight-fisted or fiscally irresponsible

He would have said financially marginal
but she would have countered too willing to pay full price

Now, for her side of the dialogue?

Aspiring novelists, good luck

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

This is the month many aspiring writers sit down and try to complete a draft of a novel before December sets in. For perspective, here are ten points as inspiration

“If you have any young friends who aspire to become writers, the second greatest favor you can do them is to present them with copies of The Elements of Style. The first greatest, of course, is to shoot them now, while they’re happy.” ― Dorothy Parker

“If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it. Or, if proper usage gets in the way, it may have to go. I can’t allow what we learned in English composition to disrupt the sound and rhythm of the narrative.” – Elmore Leonard

“Your writing voice is the deepest possible reflection of who you are. The job of your voice is not to seduce or flatter or make well-shaped sentences. In your voice, your readers should be able to hear the contents of your mind, your heart, your soul.” – Meg Rosoff

“I just give myself permission to suck. I delete about 90 percent of my first drafts, so it doesn’t really matter much if on a particular day I write beautiful and brilliant prose that will stick in the minds of my readers forever, because there’s a 90 percent chance I’m just going to delete whatever I write anyway. I find this hugely liberating.” – John Green

“Anyone who says writing is easy isn’t doing it right.” – Amy Joy

“You fail only if you stop writing.” – Ray Bradbury

“Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now.” – Annie Dillard

“If my doctor told me I had only six minutes to live, I wouldn’t brood. I’d type a little faster.” – Isaac Asimov

“I taught my brother everything he needs to know about writing.” – Stan Asimov

“There is no real ending. It’s just the place where you stop the story.” – Frank Herbert

Sometimes a group helps

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

The role of a writers’ group will elicit a range of responses.

Some find value in having a core circle that intensely critiques each participant’s ongoing work, while others – I’ll include myself – see that as limiting if the others are clueless about your style and vision. It’s the unpublished version of blind leading the blind.

Still, I have been greatly assisted by opportunities for weekly or monthly open reading sessions, starting with the Stoney Lonesome poets in Bloomington, Indiana, and picking up with the Café Eclipse evenings in Concord, New Hampshire; young poets who met at Barnes & Nobel in Manchester, New Hampshire; Isabel van Merlin’s Merrimack Mic coffeehouse nights in Newburyport, Massachusetts. Somehow, I didn’t feel that kinship in the Poetry Society of New Hampshire.  Later, a monthly group known as Writers’ Night Out in Portsmouth, introduced a wide range of writers, both beginning amateurs and seasoned professionals, spanning fiction, non-fiction, poetry, advertising and public relations, script writing, and playwrighting. We never knew exactly what the mix would be, but it was always stimulating and we never felt a sense of competition, as far as I could tell. The tips and insights we shared could be quite useful. That’s where I first heard of Smashwords, for instance.

There were other stints where I was truly solo. I was never part of the Iron Pig group in the Mahoning Valley, for instance, though my artist then-wife had her gallery groups.

Baltimore had a large writers’ group that never quite jelled for me, though we did have a marvelous evening with Tom Clancy just before the release of his first movie. His honesty did offend some of those present, though I found it refreshing.

More recently, it’s come in the monthly open mics at the Eastport Arts Center, where spoken word usually alternates with music.

~*~

The arts center does offer inspiration on other fronts, too, including the Sunday afternoon presentations through winter, plus concerts, plays, the film society, and even contradancing.

The arts center is one reason our community stands apart from many others. We had nothing like it in Dover, nearly 30 times the size.

My original expectation of dilettantes and artist wannabes was quickly dispelled. A key post-Covid Stage East production, for instance, was two one-act plays – Beckett and Cocteau. And some of the best chamber music and jazz I’ve heard anywhere has been here. So we get a good dose of deep work.

But lately I’ve been hearing stories of some of its founders, some of whom have died since my arrival. One, for instance, had worked closely with theater great Tyron Guthrie. You get the picture.

The full history still needs to be written. Not that I’m stepping forward.

Show some sympathy for those poor, lowly paid beleaguered clerks

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

They’re probably not to blame. Look, they’re usually struggling figures who all too often have to face self-entitled a-holes at the checkout counter or their equally crushed managers overhead. Here are a few things they’d love to tell you or maybe the offender before you or even their bosses.

Yes, here’s what they’d really love to say.

  1. “Let’s trade places. I’ll be the rude one, and you try to stay patient.”
  2. “If only our coffee was as strong as your attitude!”
  3. “Your tone is getting a price tag.”
  4. “Customers like you really test our ‘service with a smile’ policy.”
  5. “Your points would be more valid if they were less veiled in rudeness.”
  6. “We’re here to serve, not to be served attitude.”
  7. “Your words are as sweet as a lemon. Sarcasm intended.”
  8. “We promise fast service, not a tolerance for fast insults.”
  9. “You’ve mistaken my patience for a dumping ground.”
  10. “Have a nice day, somewhere else.”

While we’re at it, let’s go for a second round.

  1. “I appreciate your perspective, but rudeness is an extra charge we didn’t agree upon.”
  2. “Your impatience is understandable. Is it as urgent as your need for a manners refresher?”
  3. “Don’t worry, we charge by the item, not by the attitude.”
  4. “The ‘customer is always right’ policy doesn’t cover personal attacks. Please read the fine print.”
  5. “Did you mistake this conversation for an auction? Because you’re really bidding high on rudeness.”
  6. “We provide services, not psychic readings. Kindly state your problem, not your tantrum.”
  7. “Our products come with a warranty, but our tolerance for rudeness does not.”
  8. “Patience is a virtue, but it seems your cart is empty.”
  9. “The complaint box is for suggestions, not character assassinations.”
  10. “In our store, ‘sale’ applies to items, not civility.”

Or even a third.

  1. “We value customer feedback, but your rudeness is more of a monologue than a dialogue.”
  2. “Our goal is customer satisfaction, not ego inflation.”
  3. “Let me put you back into the waiting line.” However many hours that means.
  4. “Our service may be fast, but ‘instant respect’ isn’t on our menu.”
  5. “Our prices are competitive, but our patience isn’t limitless.”
  6. “We accept all major credit cards, but we don’t accept rudeness.”
  7. “This is a business, not a battlefield. Let’s keep the conversation civil.”
  8. “This is a store, not a stage. Kindly lower the drama.”
  9. Merry Christmas to you, too. And a *** New Year.
  10. Expletives deleted.

As for any curiosity about a writer’s workspace?

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

It was a science fiction writer who suggested this as something the public gets nosy about. Like there’s something magical in where an author works.

Well, it can be personalized, including what’s on the wall or playing as music in the background.

Somehow, many people imagine that having an inspiring view helps, but Annie Dillard argues otherwise. In the newsrooms where I’ve worked, the executives had the windows. The workers had a sweat shop, rows of keyboards on cluttered desks, maybe even with cigarettes back in the day.

My own spaces have varied from a coffee table where I sat cross-legged at the typewriter to the upstairs bedroom I dedicated to the work when I lived at Yuppieville on the Hill before I remarried. There, I did have a commanding view over the parking lot and the water tower beyond as well as some fine sunsets. Usually, the arrangements were more of a make-do nature over the years, often in a second bedroom.

Once I remarried, I envisioned turning the top of the Red Barn into a year-round writing space, something that never materialized. Instead, it wound up being the north end of the attic, as you’ll find in many of the earlier posts here.

Now, as I’ve mentioned in reflecting on shifting from paper to digital, I’m able to work from a corner of my bedroom, where I do have a compact view of the ocean. Just enough.

~*~

Now, for a few related thoughts and reminders.

Note there’s a difference between an office and where you write.

An office may have a phone, filing cabinets, tabletops, checkbooks, mailing supplies, and so on. It’s probably where you pay your bills, too.

The writing space, as mine is at the moment, may be quite compact.

As for desktop maneuvers / chaos busters (by Jennifer Weisel, maybe from Elle, I have no idea how long ago):

The average person spends over four hours per week looking for misplaced papers, according to an Accountemps survey. Gloria Schaaf, a Manhattan-based organization consultant, offers advice on how to conquer chaos:

Make your desk command central (30 x 60 inches is the minimum size; large enough to spread out on.)

Add a “filing” folder to the front of each file drawer.

Avoid piles: Act on every piece of mail when you get to it and you won’t have to look back through mounds of paper later.

Use one planning tool for both personal and professional commitments (meetings, phone calls, errands, television programs …)

Leave time for a half-hour “recovery period” at the end of each day to organize your desk; it will be much more approachable the next morning.

TRAPS: the floor (that’s where piles begin), bulletin boards (if you must hang papers, use a one-inch cork strip, “Miscellaneous” folders, “To File” boxes.

Are you sensing how much this reflects the paper era? Like the size of that desk! Or wondering how to adapt the advice to today? The clutter hasn’t gone away, unless you left it on your last computer before the disk was wiped.

~*~

TOUCHSTONES: those items and reminders of what’s essential, the way home, the way ahead: emotional and spiritual energy points.

Does this mean I put up the cow skull I found on Rattlesnake Ridge in the Yakima Valley 45 years ago?

~*~

As for a routine that keeps you doing the work, as the artist Red Grooms insists, “It’s very bad for an artist to lay off. You get out of shape.” (Catherine Barnett interview, May 1991 on page 62 of a glossy mag. In the interim, I’ve lost the tearsheet. Maybe during one of those purges?)

~*~

So what kind of workspace do you have or aspire to for your own creative endeavors? Include the right kitchen, if you wish. A studio doesn’t have to be a private space, does it?

To see where you live, just listen to an artist

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

I very much feel the vibrations of particular places, to the point that they become unacknowledged characters in my fiction and poetry. I know I’m not alone, even among writers.

Visual artists are also engaged in observing closely and progressing beyond, if they may. Some are not shy about acknowledging their insights, either.

For a few examples, let’s start by turning to Jamie Wyeth’s commenting about Mohegan Island and then venture from there.

  1. “You look at most paintings of gulls and they look like doves. If you really look at a gull, it is a beautiful bird, but it is a scavenger. It’s a mean, tough bird. To me they’re the sea more than anything else. The eye of a gull, you could paint a million seascapes and you don’t get the same sense of those eyes looking at you. They’re reptilian really.” Where I live, gulls are inescapable, even when you’d rather they weren’t.
  2. As for living surrounded by water: “Houses on the island are of as much interest as the people. They’re hanging on as tenuously as the people are. Unlike buildings in Pennsylvania which almost grow out of the earth, I always feel that if a big wind comes, everything would be just swept away.” I’ve already posted on this, looking at the town’s gable-style Capes. No wonder I tremble under a heavy wind, as I did in March so long ago in Ohio!
  3. “The danger with Maine is that it is so anecdotal and emblematic in terms of pretty houses, pretty lobster traps — ‘quaint’ things. Maine is not that way. Maine has a lot of edge, a lot of angst.”
  4. On blue sea glass: “Maine people must have drunk an inordinate amount of Milk of Magnesia.” I don’t think we need to go there.
  5. Taos Pueblo/Dine illustrator and designer Margeaux Abeyta also delivers some specifics: “I can’t count the times my father and I would take the long drive from Santa Fe to Gallup just for mutton sandwiches. … Every now and then we’d come across a perfect sky – a deep cobalt blue with rays of cerulean and clouds growing ever toward us as we drove under their long-cast shadows. They moved with one another in an effort to graze the land. Months later, I would recall our drive, lined on the canvas walls of his messy studio. He had documented that very day, an immortalized memory. Looking at across the room at half-finished canvases filled with underbrush of color, I saw the manifestations of a life lived. In this way, it became his own, his way to have a discourse with the world. Tracing back each part of himself, conversations and feelings embedded into each stroke, his very world as he dreamed it.” I must admit getting goosebumps just transcribing that rich passage. But she has more:
  6. “When my grandmother would take me chokecherry picking deep in the shaded paths, we would lift the bottoms of our blouses to hold the berries, staining the cotton with maroon impressions. While hauling home our treasures, she told stories of her own childhood. When she and her friends would walk the same trails only to be met by an old brown bear, quickly they ran, as gems of red fell from their hands, rolling down the hill behind them. I would look back into that shaded path where berries grew and feel the immense power of this strange world. Falling back beside my grandmother, I knew I was safe in this place she called home.” I am awed by how much deep memories of color inflect emotions here. The red could as easily be blood.
  7. Now for Alex Katz on his work done in New York City and Maine: “My paintings take all kinds of light. I’ve done a lot of night paintings, and twilight, and morning paintings. I think when people paint the same light all the time, it gets a little monotonous.” Do you ever think about the light where you live? Or the ways it inflects the colors your life?
  8. British painter Clare Thatcher returns to that connection of color to emotion: “I select a palette I have felt when at the location. My line drawings in charcoal or pencil suggest color to me. I aim to capture the mood and sensation that transports me back there.” What are the colors of where you’re living?
  9. For a bit of historical dimension, we have French master of the au plein Jean-Baptist Camille Corot: “I am struck upon seeing a certain place. While I strive for conscientious imitation, I yet never for an instant lose the emotion that has taken hold of me.” That points us back to the vibe.
  10. Nick Bantock, meanwhile, looks at another kind of color: “Art is like therapy; what comes up is what comes up. It may be dark, but that’s what comes up. You may want to keep some of it in a drawer … but never judge it.

Well, I am trying to think of what would have been representative of my native Ohio or neighboring Indiana as well as what would have emotionally internalized as a result. I’ve been much more aware in my moves since, as a poet and as a novelist.

As Aristotle said, “The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.” And also, Edward Hopper’s, “If I could say it in words there would be no reason to paint.” Or, for me, to write.

Culture – yes, the word

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

When I was growing up, it meant something of a Mount Olympus quality.

Not some kind of norm but an aspiration – a better person and society in the end.

Back before the very culture clash between the two concepts.

Now we add to that the concept of supremacy, not just white but European. Or perhaps, grudgingly, Chinese.

The question remains: How do we encourage excellence?

And what do we name it?