Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts

April 23, 2009

Finally, someone who understands...

I first read Dorothy Allison as a freshman in college. My Interpreting Literature professor, Dr. Covey, had "Bastard Out of Carolina" on his syllabus. I'd never heard of her prior to this class, but it was one of the first books we read that semester and I literally could not put that book down. It took me two days to finish it because every spare moment I had I devoted to losing myself in the story.

Then, in 2005, I discovered "Cavedweller." You'll note that my Blogger address includes that moniker. I so loved this book, too. This woman is an unbelievable storyteller. Until today, however, I had no idea she had other literature. I thought she was just kind of a flash in the pan. Nope. My next read will be "Trash." Check out her bibliography:

She Who. A novel, forthcoming (Penguin Putnam)

Trash, A Collection of Short Stories, 2002, Plume.

Cavedweller. Dutton, 1998.

Two or Three Things I know for Sure. Dutton, Fall, 1995.

Skin—Talking about Sex, Class & Literature. Firebrand Books, 1994. A collection of narrative essays.

Bastard out of Carolina, Dutton, 1992. A finalist for the National Book Award, a selection of the B. Dalton Discovery program, and winner of both the Ferro Grumley and Bay Area Book Reviewers Awards for fiction, Bastard Out of Carolina has been translated into more than a dozen languages and published in more than a dozen countries. In 1995, it was made into a movie directed by Angelica Huston and premiered on Showtime.

The Women Who Hate Me, Poetry 1980-1990. A chapbook. Firebrand Books, Ithaca, New York, 1991.

Trash, Short Stories by Dorothy Allison, Firebrand Books, Ithaca, NY, 1988.

The Women Who Hate Me, Poems by Dorothy Allison, Long Haul Press, 1983

I was so excited to learn how much more of hers there is to read. Yay! Anyway, this page, found on her website, speaks volumes about where I'm at in life right now.

July 11, 2008

The Writing Pressure Cooker

I've heard, throughout the years since I was 17 or so, that I'm a good writer. When I majored in psychology in college my College Writing 101 professor, Dr. DiMarco, kept asking me to change my major to English or to at least minor in it. She was convinced that's the department I belonged in. After three semesters, I did just that - and was SO RELIEVED to be out of the psych department. My advisor was mean and uninterested, my classes put me to sleep; clearly, I was in the wrong major.

But now that I was an English major, I more or less paid attention in class, was actually interested in what I was learning, and got A's and B's consistently. My GPA never dropped below 3.0 and in my junior year, my American Literature II professor asked me to join Sigma Tau Delta, which I politely declined a few times, but when she wouldn't let it go, I joined. It is Greek, but it's not a social fraternity/sorority, it's basically an honor society for English students. In all honesty, I wasn't involved at all save for the induction ceremony, but it's a nice thing to stick on a resume should I ever seek gainful employment again!

So I graduated in May 2002 (okay, technically I was an August graduate, pending my internship), precisely four years into my college career. I was so proud to have done it in the standard four years! I did my internship at the Meadville Chamber of Commerce for about three months and I absolutely loved it there. I got to be around office supplies all the time - that's a blog for another time - and I got to wear office apparel. I had a reason to look good every day because I dealt with the public all the time! I don't have a reason to look good anymore. :-(

Seriously that job, although unpaid, was freakin' awesome. I felt important. I answered the phone, organized a golf scramble, created, organized and conducted my own survey of the tri-state area chambers and their methods of creating income (since chambers are not government organizations and have no funding other than what they create), and I wrote for their newsletter, created business letters, etc. It sounds like a glorified administrative assistant position, and it was, but I really enjoyed it. I applied for a permanent position because the girl that ran the office was leaving in the fall, but they gave the job to someone else. Boohiss.

When we moved out here, I looked for a technical writing job but came up with nothing. See, when I entered college, the dotcom business was booming and my major - Professional/Technical Writing, which is not creative writing, folks - was in high demand. But by 2003, that had come to a high-pitched screeching halt. So I worked as a receptionist, off and on, for about six months and then got fired (for reasons that were never explained to me). I tried to find a job for a few months and then found out I was pregnant. We had a long talk and decided that I would be a stay-at-home mom until our kid(s) were in school full time. This of course meant tightening the bootstraps but that was okay with us; it was more important for our kids to have me at home than having all sorts of extra money.

Ahh, how quickly that idea turns sour! Especially when your husband buys a motorcycle two months into your 2nd pregnancy. Now don't get the wrong idea, I was all for it too, under the condition that he get a second job to finance it. HA! Thirteen months later, I'm posting an ad on Craigslist to find a kid to babysit. That's when Boy came in.

Now, in addition to babysitting, husband's on my ass to write a book. Like I could just sit down one afternoon and by bedtime have cranked out a bestseller. Like I have even an inkling of how to start writing a book let alone create a whole book. Like I would even know what to write about, what people would be interested in. I'm no good at fiction. I took a creative writing course in college as a requirement and all I wrote were stories from my life with the names changed. So a fiction novel is out. I could do a memoir, but who wants to hear about my boring life? (Okay, so maybe all 30-some of my daily readers do, but I seriously doubt you'd all buy a book from me!)

He's always on me to do this. He thinks I could really do well at it. I, however, have much self-doubt. Self-doubt in my talent, in my ability to finish the project and see it through to publication, my ability to find a publisher dumb enough brave enough to take a chance on an unknown writer whose only writing samples are her blog posts. Lots of doubt.

That doesn't mean I'm opposed to the idea. Hell, royalties from a book?! NICE. Being well-known for something I'm actually good at? I could deal with that. Not gracefully, I don't think, as I'm very self-conscious and HATE standing out in a crowd. But I could deal.

But then who would I ask to write the foreword? Actually, I have that person all picked out. She, too, hopes to one day write her bestselling novel. ;-)

 
template by suckmylolly.com : background by Tayler : dingbat font TackODing