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Thursday, March 15, 2012
Friday, November 20, 2009
Oprah is not dead
If I hadn't been paying attention the last few days to the important TV news programs, Entertainment Tonight, Access Hollywood, etc., I would have thought Oprah had succumbed to swine flu, singlehandedly passed the healthcare bill and closed Gitmo, starred in New Moon or joined Sarah Palin on her book tour, based on the number of times her name and likeness have appeared in the media today.
But Oprah isn't dead or undead, she hasn't saved the world and she's not hanging with Sarah in a midwestern mall. Why is she in the news today? Because she announced that her talk show will end its run 2 years from now. I feel sorry for the folks trying to make news in September 2011 when Oprah actually ends the show, unless Sarah Palin is one of them.
Because I flip between those entertainment shows each evening while eating or preparing dinner, I already knew Oprah was thinking about making some kind of announcement about her future and the future of her show, and we all knew it wasn't going to be a wedding announcement. People have been speculating for days about her next move and how we'll survive without her. I think we'll just have to change our DVR settings from ABC at 4 p.m. to OWN at whenever (probably 6 times a day) to catch Her Oprahness.
How should we each respond to this earthshaking news? It depends. I, for one, am going to work even harder to get my novel sold and published in time to pitch it to Oprah. With any luck, she'll feature it during her farewell week/month/year and I'll be rich enough to buy the Italian villa next to Clooney's.
Others of us (my plan B) will be Botoxing and Pilatesing ourselves into TV talk show host shape (imagine the high-def quality in 2011) so we can compete for the coveted spot that Oprah's move will create. They're already talking about the daytime TV vacuum that will be left in her wake, and I certainly abhor a vacuum.
Here we go.
But Oprah isn't dead or undead, she hasn't saved the world and she's not hanging with Sarah in a midwestern mall. Why is she in the news today? Because she announced that her talk show will end its run 2 years from now. I feel sorry for the folks trying to make news in September 2011 when Oprah actually ends the show, unless Sarah Palin is one of them.
Because I flip between those entertainment shows each evening while eating or preparing dinner, I already knew Oprah was thinking about making some kind of announcement about her future and the future of her show, and we all knew it wasn't going to be a wedding announcement. People have been speculating for days about her next move and how we'll survive without her. I think we'll just have to change our DVR settings from ABC at 4 p.m. to OWN at whenever (probably 6 times a day) to catch Her Oprahness.
How should we each respond to this earthshaking news? It depends. I, for one, am going to work even harder to get my novel sold and published in time to pitch it to Oprah. With any luck, she'll feature it during her farewell week/month/year and I'll be rich enough to buy the Italian villa next to Clooney's.
Others of us (my plan B) will be Botoxing and Pilatesing ourselves into TV talk show host shape (imagine the high-def quality in 2011) so we can compete for the coveted spot that Oprah's move will create. They're already talking about the daytime TV vacuum that will be left in her wake, and I certainly abhor a vacuum.
Here we go.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Book Review: The Blue Notebook
It is certainly admirable that James A. Levine, a professor of medicine at the Mayo Clinic, will donate the proceeds of his first novel, The Blue Notebook, to organizations that work for missing and exploited children. Because of that, I hope his novel does well in the marketplace, but I have mixed feelings about the book itself, which comes out tomorrow.
The story of an Indian girl named Batuk whose parents sell her into prostitution on the streets of Mumbai does not provide distant glimpses into such a horrible life. Instead, it sends the reader crashing headlong into a world most folks would rather not know exists.
This is no heartwarming tale of street kids who survive against all odds, with a little help from a game show or a hit movie. The Blue Notebook is a graphic tale of brutal rape, sex for money, heartless adults who use children to make a buck and the sexual initiation of a child, all described in harrowing first-person detail by Batuk herself from ages nine to fifteen.
Levine based his story on his interviews with young prostitutes in Mumbai, particularly one he saw writing in a notebook in front of the cage in which she lived and serviced customers.
In the novel, Batuk finds some solace and escape in the stories and poems she writes in her notebook. She learned to read and write while hospitalized, before her father abandoned her in the city. Her written expressions are meant to symbolize hope, but Batuk’s blunt descriptions of sexual activity and violence against women and children—including some sex acts she seemed to enjoy—belie the publisher’s premise that the novel is hopeful.
Levine’s novel focuses more attention on the sexual slavery and abuse of homeless Indian children, which the celebrated film Slumdog Millionaire merely hinted at. If the book increases awareness and concern for these children as the movie did, at least for a while, then perhaps some children will be saved.
My concerns about the book, however, center on the graphic portrayal of sexuality from the eyes and mind of a prepubescent child and young teen. Batuk seems to adjust to her situation too quickly. She doesn’t have a choice, if she wants to survive, of course, and Levine doesn’t try to sugarcoat her experiences. But the frank portrayal of a child performing sex acts on adult males seems too voyeuristic here and will likely titillate a certain element. I think Levine could have told his story without sinking into pornographic descriptions of genitalia and bodily fluids.
Still, if controversy sells books, Levine is likely to make money for the International Center for Missing and Exploited Children and the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. However, I’m not sure the ends justify the means. I couldn’t get past the “ick” factor and the nagging thought that I shouldn’t be reading this. Proceed with caution.
This review is based on an advanced reading copy from Spiegel and Grau.
The story of an Indian girl named Batuk whose parents sell her into prostitution on the streets of Mumbai does not provide distant glimpses into such a horrible life. Instead, it sends the reader crashing headlong into a world most folks would rather not know exists.
This is no heartwarming tale of street kids who survive against all odds, with a little help from a game show or a hit movie. The Blue Notebook is a graphic tale of brutal rape, sex for money, heartless adults who use children to make a buck and the sexual initiation of a child, all described in harrowing first-person detail by Batuk herself from ages nine to fifteen.
Levine based his story on his interviews with young prostitutes in Mumbai, particularly one he saw writing in a notebook in front of the cage in which she lived and serviced customers.
In the novel, Batuk finds some solace and escape in the stories and poems she writes in her notebook. She learned to read and write while hospitalized, before her father abandoned her in the city. Her written expressions are meant to symbolize hope, but Batuk’s blunt descriptions of sexual activity and violence against women and children—including some sex acts she seemed to enjoy—belie the publisher’s premise that the novel is hopeful.
Levine’s novel focuses more attention on the sexual slavery and abuse of homeless Indian children, which the celebrated film Slumdog Millionaire merely hinted at. If the book increases awareness and concern for these children as the movie did, at least for a while, then perhaps some children will be saved.
My concerns about the book, however, center on the graphic portrayal of sexuality from the eyes and mind of a prepubescent child and young teen. Batuk seems to adjust to her situation too quickly. She doesn’t have a choice, if she wants to survive, of course, and Levine doesn’t try to sugarcoat her experiences. But the frank portrayal of a child performing sex acts on adult males seems too voyeuristic here and will likely titillate a certain element. I think Levine could have told his story without sinking into pornographic descriptions of genitalia and bodily fluids.
Still, if controversy sells books, Levine is likely to make money for the International Center for Missing and Exploited Children and the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. However, I’m not sure the ends justify the means. I couldn’t get past the “ick” factor and the nagging thought that I shouldn’t be reading this. Proceed with caution.
This review is based on an advanced reading copy from Spiegel and Grau.
If Blogs Were Children...
I'd be guilty of criminal neglect. I promise to fatten mine up soon.
Thank you, Brett, for visiting my starving offspring and leaving a comment.
I'm heading out to buy milk now. Care and feeding will resume this evening.
Thank you, Brett, for visiting my starving offspring and leaving a comment.
I'm heading out to buy milk now. Care and feeding will resume this evening.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Writing for Money
My day job took up a lot of my time and energy last week because we were on deadline, and I had to get the magazine out so I could get back to writing articles for the next issue. But I am always thinking about the novel I've been working on for a while. After some false starts and delays, I am getting back on track with the story I want to write, and I'm trying to focus on producing some solid pages. I'm also working on a logline and a query letter to help me focus on the big question: What is this book about?
I envy people who can write full time, but I'm a long way from that, especially with the current economic fallout. I'm afraid to look at my 401(k) statement. I'm going to have to work until I'm 90 or until I drop dead, unless I sell a novel for bazillions of dollars, which we all know ain't likely.
So my challenge now is balancing the time and energy I spend on the day job that pays the bills with the creative work that feeds my soul. It's getting tougher, because in my current day job I wear multiple hats, and there's not a lot of down time. I'm always on deadline, and I never feel like I'm finished with my work. It's a continuous loop. But it does pay the bills, fund the retirement account and provide health insurance. And I have always enjoyed my career, producing publications that other people enjoy reading, and like developing new skills and feeling like I'm a part of the business world.
But I need to focus on writing the novel(s) without regard to making any money, because you're always writing fiction on spec. There are no guarantees that you will get your fiction published or that you will make money if you do get it published. Because I'm single and self-supporting, I do have to pay more attention to income-generating pursuits. That is frustrating. I have to figure out how to squeeze out some energy and enthusiasm for something that may or may not get me anywhere financially.
I envy people who can write full time, but I'm a long way from that, especially with the current economic fallout. I'm afraid to look at my 401(k) statement. I'm going to have to work until I'm 90 or until I drop dead, unless I sell a novel for bazillions of dollars, which we all know ain't likely.
So my challenge now is balancing the time and energy I spend on the day job that pays the bills with the creative work that feeds my soul. It's getting tougher, because in my current day job I wear multiple hats, and there's not a lot of down time. I'm always on deadline, and I never feel like I'm finished with my work. It's a continuous loop. But it does pay the bills, fund the retirement account and provide health insurance. And I have always enjoyed my career, producing publications that other people enjoy reading, and like developing new skills and feeling like I'm a part of the business world.
But I need to focus on writing the novel(s) without regard to making any money, because you're always writing fiction on spec. There are no guarantees that you will get your fiction published or that you will make money if you do get it published. Because I'm single and self-supporting, I do have to pay more attention to income-generating pursuits. That is frustrating. I have to figure out how to squeeze out some energy and enthusiasm for something that may or may not get me anywhere financially.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Do writing prompts work?
I just signed up for Southeast Review's 30-day writing regimen. It costs $15, but you also get an issue of the magazine.
http://southeastreview.org/regimen.php#regimen
I've seen other websites and blogs that offer daily prompts for writers, such as these on C.M. Mayo's site. http://www.cmmayo.com/d5mwe.html
Do they work? I wonder how people are using these? Do they help you jumpstart your writing on a slow day? Do they help you flesh out a character or complete a scene? Do they inspire totally new stories, characters or novels? I'm just curious about whether these have helped you with your writing. Any inspiration is good, and a daily reminder that you're supposed to be writing can't hurt. (I guess I just paid someone $15 to nag me.)
Writing is weird. (Some writers are weird.) What other profession needs prompts? Do surgeons sign up for an incision-a-day program to motivate them or help them improve their skills? Do plumbers check their clog-a-day email before heading out to the truck in the morning?
Most writers, especially fiction writers, are dependent on our imaginations for ideas. I'm always amused at readings and book signings when people in the audience ask, "Where do you get your ideas?" Do "regular" people not tap into their imaginations?
I started making up stories in my head when I was a kid. Many of them, I confess, starred The Black Stallion, so I suppose my daydreams could be considered derivative. Sometimes I would get carried away and make up stories in my mind while I was in school or church, so I suppose I missed some educational or spiritual nuggets while I was riding The Black over a desert with Alec, whom I pictured as a young hunk, way unlike the kid who played him in the beautiful movie. I remember one story, which I never wrote down, that involved winning the Kentucky Derby and getting a trophy from President Johnson. So long ago.
Later, as I started to think about writing stories down, I moved from sheer fantasy that starred me, a horse and some hottie, to stories that were more reflective of my life. I didn't get a horse until I was in my late 20s, so for years I tied jump rope reins to my bike's handlebars, ran around my backyard neighing like an idiot and jumping over my mother's camellia bushes. (Don't try that with gladioluses.) When I started writing, however, I didn't include horses. When I started riding, I realized how ignorant I had been about horses, riding and racing (not Walter Farley's fault), and I wanted to write realistically about horses. But when I had to sell my horse, I was too sad to think about them much. I nearly burst into tears at an outdoor concert when I saw a mounted policeman riding a chestnut that looked a lot like my last horse. So I decided to put off the horse stories for a while, but there's one brewing in my imagination now.
My imagination is filled with horses, church, family, Jesus and romance. The first four things were always part of my life; the final one was a wish. When that wish came true, it nearly destroyed me, so I think I should stick to other subjects. I do recall bargaining with God once that if it was his will to give me a pony, I would ride that pony around town telling people about Jesus. I never got the pony. (That scene might work in my WIP.) By the time I got my first horse, my evangelical fervor had dimmed somewhat, so I never tried to use Bandit for the Lord. I did once ride him up to a drive-through window at Bojangles. That was a fun day.
My challenge now is to deal with the stress from work and life that are stealing my energy and blocking my imagination. Let's see if the daily prompts help.
http://southeastreview.org/regimen.php#regimen
I've seen other websites and blogs that offer daily prompts for writers, such as these on C.M. Mayo's site. http://www.cmmayo.com/d5mwe.html
Do they work? I wonder how people are using these? Do they help you jumpstart your writing on a slow day? Do they help you flesh out a character or complete a scene? Do they inspire totally new stories, characters or novels? I'm just curious about whether these have helped you with your writing. Any inspiration is good, and a daily reminder that you're supposed to be writing can't hurt. (I guess I just paid someone $15 to nag me.)
Writing is weird. (Some writers are weird.) What other profession needs prompts? Do surgeons sign up for an incision-a-day program to motivate them or help them improve their skills? Do plumbers check their clog-a-day email before heading out to the truck in the morning?
Most writers, especially fiction writers, are dependent on our imaginations for ideas. I'm always amused at readings and book signings when people in the audience ask, "Where do you get your ideas?" Do "regular" people not tap into their imaginations?
I started making up stories in my head when I was a kid. Many of them, I confess, starred The Black Stallion, so I suppose my daydreams could be considered derivative. Sometimes I would get carried away and make up stories in my mind while I was in school or church, so I suppose I missed some educational or spiritual nuggets while I was riding The Black over a desert with Alec, whom I pictured as a young hunk, way unlike the kid who played him in the beautiful movie. I remember one story, which I never wrote down, that involved winning the Kentucky Derby and getting a trophy from President Johnson. So long ago.
Later, as I started to think about writing stories down, I moved from sheer fantasy that starred me, a horse and some hottie, to stories that were more reflective of my life. I didn't get a horse until I was in my late 20s, so for years I tied jump rope reins to my bike's handlebars, ran around my backyard neighing like an idiot and jumping over my mother's camellia bushes. (Don't try that with gladioluses.) When I started writing, however, I didn't include horses. When I started riding, I realized how ignorant I had been about horses, riding and racing (not Walter Farley's fault), and I wanted to write realistically about horses. But when I had to sell my horse, I was too sad to think about them much. I nearly burst into tears at an outdoor concert when I saw a mounted policeman riding a chestnut that looked a lot like my last horse. So I decided to put off the horse stories for a while, but there's one brewing in my imagination now.
My imagination is filled with horses, church, family, Jesus and romance. The first four things were always part of my life; the final one was a wish. When that wish came true, it nearly destroyed me, so I think I should stick to other subjects. I do recall bargaining with God once that if it was his will to give me a pony, I would ride that pony around town telling people about Jesus. I never got the pony. (That scene might work in my WIP.) By the time I got my first horse, my evangelical fervor had dimmed somewhat, so I never tried to use Bandit for the Lord. I did once ride him up to a drive-through window at Bojangles. That was a fun day.
My challenge now is to deal with the stress from work and life that are stealing my energy and blocking my imagination. Let's see if the daily prompts help.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Finishing a novel
No, I haven't finished mine yet, but I am desperately trying to do so. I have a self-imposed deadline for getting a draft finished. I had stopped working on it regularly because of distractions at work and some family crises that left me feeling a little tired most of the time. I didn't have any energy to work on the novel. Life was enough.
But I'm getting a new perspective on it now. Recently I came up with a scene that I think will end the book. That's quite a breakthrough for me, because I have been uncertain about how it will end: will it be happy, hopeful, tragic, etc. Now that I know where I'm heading the much-dreaded middle might be easier to write. But the middle is kind of the whole point of writing the book, and I've been avoiding it. In an MFA class at George Mason, Dick Bausch said sometimes you can't write about something right after it happens. You have to let it go for a while until you're ready to revisit it. I think that has been my situation. There are some things I don't want to think about, much less write about it, but I have to write about it or give up on this book, which I'm not ready to do.
A while back at the Tin House Summer Workshop in Portland, Ore., Dorothy Allison, my workshop leader, offered some feedback on one of my chapters. She said she liked it, but after the workshop she asked me if I had written the hard part. I wondered how she knew there was a hard part. But I had to admit that I hadn't written that part yet. Still haven't, and that's one reason I've been stuck. Now that I know how I expect the book to end, I think I should just forget about the beginning, middle and end and just write that part, the part that made me think about writing a novel in the first place. Otherwise I'm going to have to write something else, but I don't think I can until I finish this book.
I get anxious when I get to that tricky part, and then I either write around it or I don't write at all. Maybe I picked a subject that is too difficult and too close to home. But I think that could make it a better story, if I can capture those emotions in words.
One of the reasons I've been thinking about it recently is the flap over Sarah Palin's daughter's pregnancy and their proud stance against abortion. I'm pro-choice, but I think people should be responsible for their sexual activity and not use abortion as a birth control method. But I don't think some old white guys in D.C. should have any control over any woman's uterus.
My book isn't about abortion, so far. But it does include some teen-age pregnancies among evangelical Christians whose parents wouldn't dare tell them about birth control or offer sex education because they think that would be condoning premarital sex. But these girls, like "unchurched" girls, are having sex, and many of them get pregnant. I think it's ironic that the same people who are so against abortion are also against sex education and birth control education. Christian teens have sex, folks.
My book takes place way before present time, so it's not going to get into the political flap around abortion and teen sex that the current climate has stirred up. But I do think it's interesting that many Christians become ostriches when sexuality is discussed. Now even the most conservative are overlooking Bristol Palin's unwed sex act in favor of embracing the family's anti-abortion stance. "I'm just glad she didn't kill her baby," one GOP convention attendee exclaimed on camera.
I suppose some people will think my book is a little irreverent, because you're not supposed to talk about sex and Jesus in the same breath, but I want to tell the truth in it. That's why it's taking so long to write.
But I'm getting a new perspective on it now. Recently I came up with a scene that I think will end the book. That's quite a breakthrough for me, because I have been uncertain about how it will end: will it be happy, hopeful, tragic, etc. Now that I know where I'm heading the much-dreaded middle might be easier to write. But the middle is kind of the whole point of writing the book, and I've been avoiding it. In an MFA class at George Mason, Dick Bausch said sometimes you can't write about something right after it happens. You have to let it go for a while until you're ready to revisit it. I think that has been my situation. There are some things I don't want to think about, much less write about it, but I have to write about it or give up on this book, which I'm not ready to do.
A while back at the Tin House Summer Workshop in Portland, Ore., Dorothy Allison, my workshop leader, offered some feedback on one of my chapters. She said she liked it, but after the workshop she asked me if I had written the hard part. I wondered how she knew there was a hard part. But I had to admit that I hadn't written that part yet. Still haven't, and that's one reason I've been stuck. Now that I know how I expect the book to end, I think I should just forget about the beginning, middle and end and just write that part, the part that made me think about writing a novel in the first place. Otherwise I'm going to have to write something else, but I don't think I can until I finish this book.
I get anxious when I get to that tricky part, and then I either write around it or I don't write at all. Maybe I picked a subject that is too difficult and too close to home. But I think that could make it a better story, if I can capture those emotions in words.
One of the reasons I've been thinking about it recently is the flap over Sarah Palin's daughter's pregnancy and their proud stance against abortion. I'm pro-choice, but I think people should be responsible for their sexual activity and not use abortion as a birth control method. But I don't think some old white guys in D.C. should have any control over any woman's uterus.
My book isn't about abortion, so far. But it does include some teen-age pregnancies among evangelical Christians whose parents wouldn't dare tell them about birth control or offer sex education because they think that would be condoning premarital sex. But these girls, like "unchurched" girls, are having sex, and many of them get pregnant. I think it's ironic that the same people who are so against abortion are also against sex education and birth control education. Christian teens have sex, folks.
My book takes place way before present time, so it's not going to get into the political flap around abortion and teen sex that the current climate has stirred up. But I do think it's interesting that many Christians become ostriches when sexuality is discussed. Now even the most conservative are overlooking Bristol Palin's unwed sex act in favor of embracing the family's anti-abortion stance. "I'm just glad she didn't kill her baby," one GOP convention attendee exclaimed on camera.
I suppose some people will think my book is a little irreverent, because you're not supposed to talk about sex and Jesus in the same breath, but I want to tell the truth in it. That's why it's taking so long to write.
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