Who Owns Your Stuff?

 

On October 29, the U.S. Supreme Court will hear an extremely important case.

If you ever buy or sell used items on eBay, craigslist, half.com, amazon.com or anywhere, this case affects you. Buying used is one of the main tenets of my life. It’s what makes life affordable. And I resell sometimes, especially books. If I’ve read it and know I’m not going to read it again, why not get back a couple of bucks, while giving someone else a bargain and the joy of reading?

This is not only an ownership issue. It’s an environmental issue. It’s the “reuse” part of “Reduce, reuse, recycle.” If you can’t pass on things you no longer need, what happens to them? Landfill?

It’s an equality issue. It would hurt lower-income folks disproportionately. Think of kids who have a computer at home for their homework, only because their parents found one used.

I keep re-reading information on this, and it never becomes more believable, even though it’s true. Thriftiness, financial responsibility and environmental stewardship could be criminalized. Crazy.

Spread the word, sign the petition, and don’t let it happen.

DIY Obituary

Sorry I haven’t posted anything in a while. I’ve been busy writing my obituary. Okay, that’s an inappropriate joke – as referenced in the poem below. But really, I was writing my own obituary recently. I hope to have many more decades to polish and edit it before it needs a final version.

It’s one of those self-discovery writing exercises. Write your own obituary. So, here’s the first draft of my response to the prompt.

At My Grave

At my grave, remember me
for my morning grumpiness.
Think about how socially awkward
I could be in crowds, sometimes fleeing
to hide in a restroom stall
when the pressure to make small talk
became too much .
Don’t forget my problem skin
or the perpetual spilling of food on my clothing.
I’ve heard tell I was a toddler who bit –
may as well include that, too.
Remember my poems and stories.
Remember I loved my children more
than was fathomable.
Remind them how I stayed up all night
caretaking when one of them was sick.
Then recall the time I threatened
to return my kids’ Christmas presents
to the store and spend the money on myself.
Remember when I shared my picnic lunch
with the hungry man in the park.
Remember I always mislaid my glasses.
I got lost on every road trip.
I strove to be kind.
But I cared a little too much about being liked.
I kept my word when at all possible
and didn’t give it if I thought I couldn’t follow through.
Don’t recall my endless patience; I didn’t have it.
Repeat some of my witticisms,
while keeping in mind I had a hard time knowing
when the situation made joking inappropriate.
Look back and notice I accomplished a lot
by flying under the radar of naysayers.
Speak of how I was complicated
and some days that was lovely
and some days infuriating.
Don’t airbrush my life.
Remember all of me.

Characters Who Don’t Look Like Me

In case you missed it, NPR recently conducted a reader survey about the best young adult novels of all time. After the votes were tabulated, they published a list of the top 100. Now, they’re discussing why they ended up with what may also be the “whitest ever” list of teen books. I hate to admit, this never occurred to me as I voted nor as I eagerly scanned the final list.

I will mention, in the second article they miss two main characters who are not white in the books. Katniss Everdeen of “Hunger Games” is described as having olive skin and black hair. And Ged (aka Sparrowhawk) of the “Earthsea” trilogy, also has dark skin and hair.

Still, the representation is pretty slim. And this set me to thinking about my own writing. I’m white and I tend to write main characters who look like me. I can think of only one exception. Of course, I haven’t written prolific amounts of fiction (yet.) Part of this is that I’m not sure I would be able accurately to “get” the experiences of people who haven’t lived as a white person in the U.S. I do have some characters who are other races, however. So is this diversity on my part, or tokenism? And how can I tell the difference? I struggle with this question. The few stories I have written take place in my country and I want the population to look realistic, including the variety of people you’d meet.

Ursula K.  Le Guin, I’ve noticed, is a white author who often has characters with darker skin (I’ve already mentioned Ged.) And she manages to pull it off. But then again, she’s writing science fiction, so her characters’ cultures are of her own invention. For the most part, I think it’s important to make a place for a diversity of authors if we want a diversity of characters.

I work in a public library, and I try to be aware of the entire population we serve – baby to elderly, different cultures, different genders, different sexual orientations, different abilities. One small example is the New Biography section. In our “New Books” area, we try to put as many books as possible face out, so patrons can see the cover. We have hangers for a few face-out books on each end of the shelving unit, and sometimes we can fit a few face out on the shelves, as well. I can’t help noticing that most biographies – still, here in the 21st century – are about white men. Really, a large, large percentage of the new biographies we have. I don’t want to short-change anyone, including white men, but I think having a variety of faces show up on our shelves is one small way to make sure different groups of people feel comfortable and welcome using the library. We’re always pushed for time and it’s easy, hurriedly grabbing a handful of new biographies for display, to end up with a wall of white and male. When I see this happen, I try to take a minute to find at least a couple that are female and have other skin tones. I know many of my co-workers do, too.

Now, I’m going to feel compelled to go back through my own book lists I’ve published here and see if I’ve been as inclusive as I could be.

 

Who’s Killing Elvis Now?

Here’s a link to some of the writing I get paid to do. Yes, I am that incredibly fortunate. Blogging is indeed part of my day job.

As we near the 35th anniversary of Elvis Presley’s death, I knew one question would be on everyone’s mind: Who’s killing Elvis now? I attempt to address this in

The Mystery of the Elvis Impersonators

What I Learned From Judging a Writing Contest

The night was dark. Remind me never to include the preceding sentence in a story.

As part of the summer reading program at the library where I work, I recently had the privilege of judging a flash fiction contest. When I say privilege, I mean it, absolutely. I admire anyone who works up the nerve to put her writing out there.  I experienced a little thrill of discovery from getting to see all of the entries. I read some great pieces. And I learned some lessons I hope to remember in my own writing.

My advice for contest entries, based on my limited judging experience:

First, stay away from the obvious. Since the summer reading theme centered around night-time, one of our contest rules stated that the word “night” must be used in the opening line. I saw the same thing over and over. “The night was dark.” Okay. “The night was dark.” Nights generally are. “It was a dark night.” Okay, I get it. When I read an opening line about a protagonist who never allowed a hint of night to show itself in her house, it caught my attention. The story immediately stood out from the preceding few.

Second, pay attention to the rules. As I mentioned above, we required the word “night” in the opening line. One writer didn’t include the word anywhere in the submission. It didn’t matter how good the story was, it didn’t qualify for the contest. It was flash fiction. We gave our writers 250 words to tell a story, and many of them fit an entire arc into this small framework. If you’re given a word limit, stick to it. The 1,000-word masterpiece of yours won’t fly in a 250-word limit flash fiction contest. No matter how good it is, it’s not so good that the judges will suspend the rules and declare it the winner. In my case, I wanted to devote my limited time to paying close attention to the writers who followed our guidelines. I didn’t even read the 1,000-word story, because I felt it would waste time I didn’t have.

Third, and closely related to following guidelines, pay attention to genre. We received one proselytizing religious essay. It would have been appropriate for an essay contest, but not a fiction one. We received two poems. I wasn’t averse to narrative verse,  but for me to consider it as a possible winner in a fiction contest, it needed the narrative part.

Fourth, proofread. Especially in short works, errors announce themselves. (I know I’ll see mistakes in the this blog post ten seconds after I click “publish.” As I said, I’m trying to learn here, too.) On my first read-through of the entries, I eliminated a couple of pieces I liked story-wise because they were full of typos and grammatical errors.

Fifth, don’t take it personally. I’ve heard this again and again, but it hit home when I was the one evaluating the work of others. I was collaborating with a co-worker on the judging, and as we discussed the merits of different pieces, we didn’t always agree. Both of us also stayed open to the ideas of the other, and I was able to see some of her points. We eventually settled on a winner we both felt deserved an award. But I can now verify that a different judge will see things differently. Just because you didn’t win one contest doesn’t mean you won’t do well in another. Heck, I was so happy to see how many people were making the effort to write and taking the risk of sharing their creative work, I wanted to give awards to everyone. But we only had a limited number to give out. Some good stories didn’t win, and I hope their authors keep trying. This leads to…

Sixth, “honorable mention” means something. It’s not a participation ribbon. I gained a whole new insight into how honorable mentions are awarded. After my co-judge and I agreed on the first-place winner, each one of us had grown attached to a story from the stack that we couldn’t stand to let go unmentioned, because they were so good. The contest was close and we agonized over a winner. So we each named one honorable mention.

To sum up, I’d have to say you can improve your odds in a writing contest considerably by paying attention to some basic principles. Out of a stack of a few dozen entries, I was able to narrow it down to ten or so finalists pretty quickly. Those ten finalists made sure they followed the guidelines, proofread their work, and included the elements of a story. These simple things put them ahead of most of the field.

Nothing New Under the Sun

A few years ago a thought occurred to me that I believed was an original and clever insight on my part. I was discussing standardized testing (one of my pet subjects) and I said something to the effect that I cared more about what questions kids ask than what answers they give. I’ve repeated this a few times over the years with modifications. “Your questions say more about you than your answers.” “We need to teach students to ask questions more than to give answers.” Always attributing the quote to myself. That all ended yesterday, when I was reading up on Voltaire and came across this:

“Judge of a man by his questions rather than by his answers.”

Oh. I suppose a few billion people before me did have the opportunity to stumble across this bit of wisdom. What makes it even richer is that within an hour of reading the above sentence from Voltaire, I chanced on the following quotation from Alfred North Whitehead:

“Everything of importance has been said before by somebody who did not
discover it.”

Indeed.

Do You Have Something to Read?

“Oh no. I forgot my book!” That was me, in the salon where I had taken my son for a haircut. Imagine it said in a tone of real panic, because it was. I was reduced to reading a fashion magazine while I waited. Not reading didn’t seem like an option. There was printed matter in front of me, after all, even if it wasn’t my first choice of material.

“Do you have something to read?” This is me any time I’m taking a road trip with my kids.I ask this the way other moms ask “Did you pack your toothbrush?”  I try to remind them, as well, if we’re going some place with a waiting room – doctor, dentist, etc. “Bring a book; we might have to wait.” My kids and I have serious discussions about what they’re going to read next when one of them has just finished a book. These are the among the most joyous conversations of my life.

I found the greatest purse at a yard sale. It’s big enough to fit my wallet and a book. I try to keep a book with me most of the time. I know people who claim they don’t have time to read. But I’ve finished many a chapter while sitting outside a school, waiting for a kid to come out the door. Also, I read while I eat breakfast. And on my break at work. I’ve even been seen cooking dinner with a spatula in one hand and a book in the other. I don’t burn too many things. Thank goodness I’ve never caught a book on fire. Yet.

Ursula K. Le Guin on Literature Vs. Genre

I don’t usually use a blog post only for a link, but I believe everyone needs to read this brilliant essay by Ursula K. Le Guin. And then, if you haven’t already, read some of her books. My favorite is “The Left Hand of Darkness.”

An excerpt from the essay: “If we thought of all fictional genres as literature, we’d be done with the time-wasting, ill-natured diatribes and sneers against popular novelists who don’t write by the rules of realism, the banning of imaginative writing from MFA writing courses, the failure of so many English teachers to teach what people actually read, and the endless, silly apologising for actually reading it.”

Read the whole thing here:

Le Guin’s Hypothesis

Fathers in Memoir and Fiction

I meant to have this done and posted yesterday, but life had other plans for me. Squeaking in just before Father’s Day is over, I present you with a list of books featuring dads.

Beautiful Boy by David Sheff. In this memoir, Sheff speaks about the pain of having meth as a rival for his son’s devotion. He questions his parenting. He sees his hopes raised and dashed repeatedly. And then there’s the effect on his other kids. As any parent of more than one child can tell you, any decision you make for one has ramifications for the others.

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers. Eggers is a brother who filled a father’s role. He was only 21 when his father and mother both succumbed to cancer within a few weeks of each other, leaving Dave in charge of his 8-year-old brother. This memoir had me laughing and crying, often at the same time.

Love in the Driest Season by Neely Tucker. Neely Tucker, a white American journalist, recounts the story of how he and his black wife, Vita, relocated to Zimbabwe, where they volunteered at an orphanage and fell in love with a little girl who they believed might have AIDS.

Plainsong by Kent Haruf. Written in spare, but beautiful prose, this novel introduces us to small town high school teacher, Tom Guthrie, who is raising his two sons by himself. Meanwhile, he’s dealing with a student who bullies, a student who is pregnant, fellow teacher Maggie Jones, and wait – how do two bachelor farmer brothers come into this picture? Read and find out.

Shit My Dad Says by Justin Halpern. What started as a Twitter account turned into one of the funniest memoirs I have ever read. At 28, Halpern lost his job and moved back in with his 73-year-old dad.  “Remember when you used to make fun of me for being bald?…No, I’m not gonna make a joke. I’ll let the mirror do that.” People who get the vapors over cursing should avoid it. Despite being extremely salty, Halpern’s dad does seem to have his son’s best interests at heart, in the end.

Silas Marner by George Eliot. In today’s world, Silas Marner would never be approved to adopt a child. But in Eliot’s novel, the reclusive miser turns out to be a pretty good father to the little girl who wanders into his life. Father and daughter both learn love really is more important than money.

A Thousand Acres by Jane Smiley. In this novel, the setting is a Midwest family farm in the 1970s. But the seemingly average Cook family is living out a 20th-century version of Shakespeare’s King Lear, complete with the division of the estate, the exile of one daughter, the love triangles and the onset of patriarchal madness.

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. Atticus Finch is one of the greatest literary fathers of all time. He is wise and kind and understanding of his children, while holding expectations of the same behavior from them. Then there’s his courage in standing up for the underdog. “Truth, justice and the American Way” – Superman, or Superdad Atticus Finch?

The Whistling Season by Ivan Doig. This novel, set in 1909 Montana, is narrated by the oldest of widower Oliver Milliron’s three boys. Their father hires a housekeeper through a newspaper ad, a housekeeper who brings along a character of a brother, and a mystery.

Winter’s Bone by Daniel Woodrell. Though Ree Dolly’s father is more talked about than shown, the reader certainly comes to know a lot about him. The things we find out right way are: he has drug charges pending against him, he has put up the family home as bond, and he can’t be found. It’s up to 16-year-old Ree to find him and thus save the home.