On hits and misses as a writer

Here are ten more confessions on being a published author.

  1. “The difference between the almost right word and the right word is the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning.” – Mark Twain
  2. “Any word you have to hunt for in a thesaurus is the wrong word. There are no exceptions to this rule.” ― Stephen King
  3. “Style means the right word. The rest matters little.” – Jules Renard
  4. “My aim in constructing sentences is to make the sentence utterly easy to understand, writing what I call transparent prose. I’ve failed dreadfully if you have to read a sentence twice to figure out what I meant.” – Ken Follett
  5. “I would advise anyone who aspires to a writing career that before developing his talent, he would be wise to develop a thick hide.” – Harper Lee
  6. “One of [the things you learn as you get older] is, you really need less … My model for this is late Beethoven. He moves so strangely and quite suddenly sometimes from place to place in his music, in the late quartets. He knows where he’s going and he just doesn’t want to waste all that time getting there … One is aware of this as one gets older. You can’t waste time.” – Ursula K. Le Guin
  7. “Rejection slips, or form letters, however tactfully phrased, are lacerations of the soul, if not quite inventions of the devil – but there is no way around them.” – Isaac Asimov
  8. “Was I bitter? Absolutely. Hurt? You bet your sweet ass I was hurt. Who doesn’t feel a part of their heart break at rejection. You ask yourself every question you can think of, what, why, how come, and then your sadness turns to anger. That’s my favorite part. It drives me, feeds me, and makes one hell of a story.” – Jennifer Salaiz
  9. “I love my rejection slips. They show me I try.” – Sylvia Plath
  10. “I used to save all my rejection slips because I told myself, one day I’m going to autograph these and auction them. And then I lost the box.” – James Lee Burke

 

What do you know about jellyfish?

With their many different species, jellyfish are found in every ocean in the world, including very cold waters of the Arctic and Antarctic. Some are even found in freshwater. Some species live in shallow, sunlit waters near the surface, while others live in the deep, dark, cold or somewhere in-between. Here are a few other points.

  1. They predate dinosaurs, bobbing along in the currents for at least 500 million years and possibly 700 million years, roughly three times the age of the first dinosaurs.
  2. They aren’t fish. They don’t have a backbone or spine, nor do they have brains, hearts, eyes, scales, gills, or fins. Instead, they swim by opening and closing their “bells.” Many scientists simply group them as “gelatinous zooplankton.”
  3. A few species have surprisingly complex vision. For instance, the box jellyfish has 24 “eyes,” two of which can see in color. It’s also believed this animal’s complicated array of visual sensors makes it one of the few creatures to have a full 360-degree view of its environment.
  4. Its lifespan depends on the species in question. Some live for just a few days or weeks, while others can live for several decades or more. One species, called the immortal jellyfish (Turritopsis dohrnii), is capable of reversing its life cycle and returning to a younger stage of development after it reaches sexual maturity. This means that it can essentially live forever as long as it is not killed by predators or other external factors.
  5. This ability is a major subject of research, as it could help the medical field understand how to turn cancerous cells into noncancerous cells like muscles, nerves, or skin.
  6. Jellyfish use tentacles to catch their food. These long, thin appendages on the sides and bottom of the jellyfish’s body are covered in tiny stinging cells that contain a venom to stun and capture prey. When they encounter something edible, they use their tentacles to bring it closer to their mouth, located in the center of their body.
  7. They are carnivores, meaning they eat other animals. Since they’re unable to chew their food, they usually eat small marine animals they can swallow whole, such as
  8. plankton, small fish, and crustaceans like shrimp and lobsters. They’ll also eat smaller jellyfish.
  9. The power of their stings can vary widely depending on the species. The most venomous is probably the box jellyfish, capable of killing an adult human in just a few minutes with a single sting. Each box jellyfish reportedly carries enough venom to kill more than 60 humans. To make matters worse, their stings are excruciatingly painful — it’s said the pain could kill you before the venom does.
  10. Jellyfish are eaten by larger predators, such as tuna, sea turtles, and whales. They’re even a delicacy in some places, such as in Japan and Korea. The Japanese have transformed jellyfish into candy. More often, they find their way into salads, fried into crunchy noodles, or are eaten with soy sauce like sushi.

 

A fresh perspective on the craft of poetry

Lew Welch (1926-1971) was a Beat-era poet I’ve enjoyed very much. He was influenced by Gertrude Stein early on. At Reed College, he was a roommate of Gary Snyder and a friend of Philip Whalen – what a Trinity of fine poets! William Carlos Williams certainly thought so after meeting them in Oregon.

Here are ten insights gleaned from Welch’s take, “How I work as a poet.”

  1. All poems are translations.
  2. Language is speech. The din of a tribe, doing its business. You can’t control it, you can’t correct it, you can only listen to it and use it as it is.
  3. Speech is the most powerful single thing we human beings have.
  4. Whose kid is that? (With force!)
  5. All poetry should be that intense.
  6. It very seldom is. The few poems we praise over the centuries and across all cultures and times are more intense than this.
  7. (Discussing a copywriter, Do Not Disturb): He is in a trance. All he is trying to do is make his living writing baby-talk ads for a mail-order house. But Li Po, while extemporizing intricate lines on whatever subject the Emperor happened to throw at him, dropped, I am sure, into the same glaze-eyed state. His eyes would widen then clear, and he’d wittily speck his lines. I saw William Carlos Williams do this on a challenge from Snyder and Whalen and me back in the 1950s.
  8. Usually, of course, we don’t speak with any exactness at all. It is mostly ceremony and blather. … Exactness to what?
  9. All that trochee, iamb crap, it’s British. Forget it. It doesn’t have anything to do with us.
  10. The poet doesn’t want to be understood. He wants to be believed!

Welch left a suicide note, but his body has never been found.

 

‘Nature lover’ doesn’t begin to cover it

Do you require getting out in nature when it comes to maintaining your sanity and soul? I certainly do. In fact, one of my struggles living in Fostoria was the relative lack of that exposure, even though the small city was surrounded by some very productive farmland. I wanted something a little wilder and freer.

Here are ten perspectives:

  1. “In nature, nothing is perfect and everything is perfect. Trees can be contorted, bent in weird ways, and they’re still beautiful.” — Alice Walker
  2. “I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.” — John Burroughs
  3. “Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.” — Lao Tzu
  4. “Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson
  5. “In all things of nature there is something of the marvelous.” — Aristotle
  6. “Nature is the art of God.” — Dante Alighieri
  7. “There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature — the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.” — Rachel Carson
  8. “If you can’t be in awe of Mother Nature, there’s something wrong with you.” — Alex Trebek
  9. “Nature is not a place to visit. It is home.” — Gary Snyder
  10. “You are a guest of nature — behave.” — Friedensreich Hundertwasser

 

A few things that have bugged me about open readings

  1. Poets who expect to read as soon as they arrive and then depart when they’re done.
  2. Those who have not revised their work.
  3. Those who hold the stand too long.
  4. People who don’t laugh at my funniest lines.
  5. Readers who arrive when I’ve just ended.
  6. Folks I’ve heard who won’t hear me.
  7. Nights there’s no sharing, no worship of the muse. Too much competition.
  8. Dishonesty. Pretense. Would-be actors.
  9. Poets led astray by bad models. Wrong breathing. Lines that don’t fit the poet’s mouth.
  10. Erroneous observations, fallacious reasoning. The facts must be correct.

You could add listeners who try to categorize each reader. or overly critical folks like me.

Regarding Nosmo, our King cat

He got his name from signs I saw all over campus. NO SMOKING. Just move the space and it became Nosmo King. He was a solidly black cat with Siamese lines and smarts. As I noted when he was a kitten:

  1. He’s been here two weeks. Or is it three?
  2. Gained a pound.
  3. Approaching adolescence, he’s learning the ropes.
  4. Out of control.
  5. Banging the walls.
  6. Losing his balls.
  7. Jumping to the table top.
  8. Forgetting to wipe behind.
  9. Staying up all night.
  10. Adding chaos to our lives, not that he cares.

 

Why were those rocks adorned?

I became fascinated with Native petroglyphs, or carvings in stone,  largely through reading scholarly reports when I was a social sciences research associate at Indiana University. The readings had nothing to bear on my paid work, but they did touch on some of the poetry I was engaging. I had no idea I would actually be viewing these in the wild barely two years later.

And here I am, 50 years later, living in a landscape at the other edge of the continent and aware that Native petroglyphs and petrographs, or painted images,  are found hereabouts, though their precise location is kept secret.

Here are ten points I noted from the field notes.

  1. Were the drawings (petroglyphs) made during ceremonies before an important hunt? Did the hunting leader draw them? Or were they done by the young, during puberty rites?
  2. A given rock surface had “power” to bring good luck. If it worked, he drew again on the same rock. Others, seeing this, added their own pictures.
  3. Dummy hunters were erected as piled rocks.
  4. Pictures were used only when food, or the particular animal, was hard to obtain.
  5. In the sheep cult, the immortal sheep had certain supernatural powers.
  6. Salmon ascended the streams to benefit mankind, died, and then returned to life as a race of supernatural beings who lived in a great house under the sea. When the time came for the run, they would assume the form of fish to sacrifice themselves. (Sounds to me like prototype Jesus.)
  7. Eskimo keep the bladder of a whale, seal, or walrus they have killed and kept that in a jar of water all winter. Come springtime, it is taken to the edge of the sea, poured back in, and its soul is told to swim far out where it will find one of its own kind about to be born.
  8. The cult priests, or shamans, talked to these animal spirits.
  9. Did the advent of the bow allow excessive hunting?
  10. Appearance includes desert varnish, a patina where high summer temperatures and thunderstorms were found together. Lichen will grow in the drawings but not the surrounding rock.

 

Oh, hail, Indiana University

Or “heh-ell,” as the dialect might say. It’s been a half-century now since I left Bloomington as a research associate, and a few years before, when I graduated.

Rather than rave about the graduate library or the celebrated rare-books temple or the music or business schools, let me take a different tack, as viewed from now.

  1. We’re still in disbelief that the football team could have a winning season, much less be ranked in the nation’s top 25 teams. Basketball’s a different matter.
  2. Considering the conservative nature of the state, it’s a bit shocking that the Kinsey Institute for Research in Sex, Gender, and Reproduction is located on the campus. Its extensive archives and research initiatives are discreetly housed, though, in the ivy-covered former Women’s Residence Center – or was, back then.
  3. Its collegiate gothic-style buildings are clad in locally quarried limestone. As are some more contemporary ones.
  4. The stream that meanders through wooded parts of the campus is called the Jordan River, not as a Biblical reference but rather in honor of David Starr Jordan, the school’s first non-ordained minister to serve as president – he was a scientist who believed in Darwinian evolution and left Bloomington after six years to launch Stanford University in California.
  5. Founded as a seminary in 1820, the school is one of the oldest public universities in America.
  6. The alma mater, “Hail to Old IU,” was set to “Annie Lisle.” a Scottish melody, as was Cornell University’s, and perhaps brought to Bloomington from Ithaca, New York, by Cornell alumni Jordan.
  7. A practical joke is spelled “boress” but pronounced a bit differently.
  8. The dining hall service continues to suck, as I’m finding in online comments. It was a major factor in the upheavals in my novel, Daffodil Uprising.
  9. On-campus parking is limited and expensive.
  10. Nobody’s ever figured out what “Hoosier” means, as far as I can tell.

 

For me, walking has often been therapy

Let’s clarify.

  1. Not in hallways, parking lots, malls, or many suburban housing developments.
  2. Not purely for exercise, especially walking in circles.
  3. Often, I’ve found downtowns invigorating.
  4. Neighborhoods with homes that reflect individuality and care. Craftsmanship, detail. Gardening, shrubbery, and trees, too. Ivy can be magical.
  5. To get from one point to another. Think of exploring.
  6. On trails. (Going back to Boy Scouts.)
  7. Forests.
  8. Riversides and beaches.
  9. Up and down a hill or a mountain.
  10. As a break in the practice of writing or revising. I’m recalling the orchard and irrigation canal banks, especially.

 

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