When a cigar is not just a cigar

If you were an English major, as so many of us writers were and are, no doubt you spent more than your share of time pouring over Lit Journal articles for your papers. And no doubt you more than once stared at some critic's interpretation of something in a book and went, “Huh?” I mean, it is funny, right?

That cigar that Sally Seton smokes in Mrs. Dalloway is much more than a cigar. It's an appropriation of a male power symbol. What about those muddy drawers in The Sound and the Fury? Hawthorne's scarlet letter A? Or, as my friend Michael asserts, the lighthouse in To the Lighthouse is definitely phallic (no, I'm still not talking about the bloody lighthouse in my thesis, Michael!).

I could, of course, go on and on. Sometimes these things are illuminating. Sometimes they're mind-boggling. And sometimes they are downright amusing.

This article, found via Booksquare today, is a side-splitter for all you English majors out there.

In the latest issue of ELN, pride of place goes to an article by Jason Sellers entitled Dracula's Band of the Hand: Suppressed Male Onanism. “I argue,” Dr Sellers announces, “that the mediation of the unavailable lover and the subsequent urgent need for autosexual satisfaction is the sexual force that propels much of Dracula.

“I will explore both the physical and psychological autoerotic imagery with which the novel suppresses, in light of that taboo, the masturbatory endeavour pursued by Dracula's vampire-fighting crew of men – our, by way of physical allegory, manly Band of the Hand.”

The article gets even funnier after that, but I shan't spoil the fun by posting what he says about Sellers's theory. You'll have to go check it out for yourselves.

And speaking of academic blowhard stuff, my thesis bar down there keeps creeping upward. I passed the 10K word mark yesterday. I can't wait to be done with this thing! Goal for today is 4 pages, though I'll certainly take more if the muse is feeling inspired.

Reading at Kapolei Library

Okay, I'm trying out this Flickr thing, so not sure I'm going to get it right. Here's moi. The link for the other photos I've uploaded so far is here.

It was a good session. It was also my first time reading to an audience, and yeah, I was nervous. The first glitch for me came when I had to use a microphone (all the ladies did, though our one gentleman, an accomplished public reader, did not). I had planned to hold my excerpt up, podium style, and read from it while making good eye contact with the audience. With the microphone, I had to leave the binder flat on the table and look down (I'd printed my excerpt in big type and put it in a 3-ring binder for ease in reading). Now, I'm not too tall, so I couldn't hold the microphone directly beneath my mouth and look down because there wasn't enough room between my face and the table to comfortably do that for long. So, I had to hold it kind of sideways.

Secondly, my husband tells me after that he could barely hear me at points. I'm like, “Dude, I asked if everyone could hear me when I started and you said yes!” He said, “Yeah, but then you moved the microphone away. Not always, but sometimes.” He found the librarian to turn up the speaker AFTER I'd finished. *sigh*

I followed Michael Little, who is a great reader and hilarious too. My story is not hilarious, but I managed to get laughs in appropriate places. And I started off funny by introducing myself as Lynn Raye Harris, not to be confused with E. Lynn Harris, the bestselling author who is male, African-American, and writes about gay characters. That got a good laugh, which made me happy.

But, yes, I felt my hand shaking from time to time, and that made me conscious of it all the more. And, though they provided water for us, my mouth got really dry as I read. I'd failed to follow Michael's advice to suck on a cough drop right before the reading. 🙁

We had a couple of questions afterward, one by a young girl who wanted to know why we wrote books and what made us want to do it. I answered first. I tried to relate it to her by telling her it started when I was a little girl and I wanted to draw, but couldn't, so wrote instead. Then I told her about going into the bookstore and realizing they didn't have the story I wanted to read so I went home and wrote it. I think that's how a lot of writers get started is by writing what you want to read and can't find.

We spent some time after talking to the people who'd come for the reading, and we sold at least one book. Not a lot, I know, but it's a library reading, not a bookstore, so I was pleased with that. And, she asked each of us to sign our stories, so that was fun. I've signed this book a few times now, and each time is still a thrill.

Finally, we wrapped it up and the four of us, plus my husband, went to dinner. I resisted the temptation to have a margarita, but I sure wanted one (we're back on our workout diet, damn it).

I learned a lot by that one reading, let me tell you. I learned that I don't like it, but that I want to do it again. I learned that cough drops are probably a good thing. I learned that I need to practice with a microphone. I learned that I need to prepare some answers to hypothetical questions. I learned that it isn't a good idea to rattle on and on about yourself (no, I didn't do that). I learned that even if I think I'm loud, I'm not. I learned that people like to be told stories and they're there because they want to be. I learned that even when you don't think you've done anything very important, there's at least one person out there in the audience who looks up to you and wants to be where you are someday.

So, overall, it was a fun and educational experience. And it was kind of like being a princess for a couple of hours too. 🙂 I'll do it again, if I'm so fortunate, and hopefully I'll be more polished when I do.

Comfort versus pressure

So today is the big reading day. And since that's on my mind — the preparing, practicing, planning — I'm not getting as much done on the thesis as I wish. I've read one journal article. I've fiddled with my Works Cited page, because of course that always evolves as the paper gets written. I've reread the intro I've written on To the Lighthouse. It's time to analyze the book, so of course I'm here, writing this post instead. It'll gel soon, and I'll hammer out a page or two (hopefully more) before time to figure out what I'm wearing tonight.

The cats have been driving me to distraction this morning as well. First, Nimitz has been a typical kittenish young cat: climbing screens, racing around the house, attacking Thumper, getting onto my sideboard and rattling crystal, attempting to use the desktop computer in the other room to spam the universe, and all the shouting in the world hasn't helped.

And Thumper keeps coming over and begging for food. Soon as Nimitz calms down for two seconds, there's Thumper, sitting at my feet, pawing at my leg, and meowing. It's enough to make a girl want to go to the library!

But, this is a writing blog, so I thought I'd see if I could relate the process of thesis writing to fiction writing. I know I seem to be like any young college kid (oh, if only) who's cramming and writing at the very last second, but the truth is I've been reading these texts for the last two years. The info is in there, so I'm not truly writing a 60+ page master's thesis from scratch in three weeks. Apparently, I just don't work in nice, manageable stretches. I meet my deadlines, but I'm usually doing it all at the last minute. I've prepared for it, but I just can't seem to make it coalesce until I'm under pressure. Is this an indication of how my fiction-career is going to be?

When I write this fast, I don't do much changing. I edit, of course, but what comes out is pretty finalized. I think it's more natural, too. Fiction is somewhat different. I have no problem scrapping the execution of an idea and trying it another way. (Well, I don't like it, but I'll do it.) I'd throw a screaming fit if I had to do that with the thesis.

In the meantime, as I work at academic writing, ideas for stories keep popping up. I think it's a natural avoidance response. My brain wants to stop working and start playing. That said, do you think it's possible to trick your brain into working on your fiction when you feel blocked? What if you decided to write something really boring and technical, gave yourself an assignment and started researching and getting down to business? Do you think your brain would, assuming it works like mine, suddenly want to work on that story about Aunt Petunia that you've been stuck in for the last month?

Just a thought, and one I'm sure has been written about in various writer magazines. I do think, maybe, that for some people comfort equals diminished drive (hinging on the previous self-sabotage post). Don't you know people who have day jobs and want so badly to be full time writers? They write all the time, whenever they can get a scrap of time, and work hard to achieve the goal. Some of them get there, too.

But what happens when you get the free time? When you don't have to work or worry about the bills being paid or having health insurance? Is there a human tendency to slack when in comfort, or is it dependent on individuals? Do we need pressure to write?

I'd be interested in knowing how you feel about comfort versus pressure. (Speaking of pressure, I'm off to the land of the Woolf….)

Self-sabotage?

This post by Alison Kent should be required reading for all writers!

We talk about fear of failure, but I don’t think we consider fear of success as often. Think about authors you know whose success has meant losing friends, suffering excessive professional jealousy, sacrificing long lazy hours of family time and spending the same touring, signing, pimping. *g* Many authors are private people, hermits of the worst sort. Success puts us into the limelight, but if you believe all the publicity blogs out there, we give up that privacy the minute we sell a book, and we become promotional machines.

Sure, it's easy to say you'd have no problem, boy, if only that NY house would call you up and offer you a contract. But, as Alison discusses in her post (the Fortune quiz made my jaw hit the floor — so much of that I could say yes to), the fear of success isn't that simple. What if you get the call, but things don't turn out the way you thought they would? What if you sell the book, but lose the drive because you no longer have a goal to strive for? Sounds silly, but anything's possible. (No, I doubt I'd lose the motivation once I had the contract, but that was one of the examples.)

I am good at self-sabotage. I've sabotaged myself for the last two years with this Master's degree. I should have finished it a long time ago, and now the absolute deadline is staring me in the face and I'm sweating and straining and working my tail off to get it done. Oh, I will get it done, but at what cost to myself?

And what about writing? I've used the MA as an excuse for years now. I keep telling myself that when I finish the thesis, I'll have all this wonderful free time to work on my stories. But, you know what, I'm afraid I won't. I'm afraid that without an academic deadline, I'll piddle around with the stories, tinkering, tinkering, tinkering and never quite perfecting them (I'm a Virgo, and that's bad, bad, bad when you want to finish something).

Not that I haven't written in the last couple of years. Of course I have. I found my voice when I moved to Hawaii, for various reasons. I finished one novel, half of another, saw my work published in several local forums. I've designed a workshop and presented it at a conference. I'm slated to give another workshop, with two of my RWA chapter buddies, in October at a local conference.

But I've got some things I should have accomplished that I haven't. I'm not going into detail because it will only make me feel worse.

And that hermit thing — oh yeah, that's me. I'm not shy after spending many years married to an extrovert and learning how to mingle, but I so DON'T want to read my work aloud to strangers on Wednesday. I'll do it, and I'll live through it, but the suffering will come not from being in front of people (I can handle that) but from sharing something so personal (my work) with them. I'd rather they didn't like me and loved my story than the other way around. Is that weird?

Fear of success? Self-sabotage? Gone any rounds with these insidious beasts?

Writers in your own backyard!

In 2.5 years in Hawaii, I've never yet set up my scanner. So I had to take a photo of the flyer for my reading on Wednesday in order to share it here.

I'm reading with three other Aloha Chapter members. The only other person on here with a website is Michael Little (see sidebar). Michael is a fabulous reader, having appeared on the Aloha Shorts radio program and given readings at various other venues across the island. Go read his wonderful short story, “Walter! Walter!”, which won the Honolulu Magazine fiction writing contest a few years ago. Great story, told from a local angle. The Hawaii that tourists have no idea exists.

I'll be reading an excerpt from “Maddie's Marine,” which appears in Strong Currents 2 (see pic in sidebar). I'm working on a new submission for SC3, which should be out next spring.