Groop tonight was very filled with advice. For example, Rotta has this advice to Ben on dating a married woman: "She's going to suck you in and spit you out like a ... like a vacuum cleaner ... in a power outage." Fortunately, her story, which was the subject of critique, was gentler on its metaphors.
In the context of the critique, we learned that a flasher is what you call a man who takes his clothes off in public. A woman who takes her clothes off in public is called a stripper.
We also learned that these things are good: figs, Italian coffee with a cube of sugar, and Rotta's novel, which everyone agreed is improving as a result of the ministrations of groop.
Now, about Nick. First of all, the police force in Alameda should be roundly slapped for being rude to the parents and children on the street outside Books, Inc. at midnight on the night that Harry Potter went on sale. Crowds of readers should be accommodated and cherished.
More Nick: So, you're sitting in a bar and you've had a bad day and someone has put MacArthur Park on the jukebox and then Deitz and Rotta walk in and you're thinking... (no, you just can't quite capture the moment--the way Nick rocks his hand against the table and his voice rises a couple octaves and he gets that look, that preacher Nick look...you know the one I mean...)
Even More Nick: "Six years after groop formed, my mother asked me where it was that we rode when I met with my riding group."
Ride on.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
Lettuce and other distractions of the moment
Last night, I dreamt that I bought lettuce, and a moment ago I was going to make lunch with it, but the making of lunch is happening in the realish world while the lettuce buying happened in the dreamish world. Perhaps I am sleeping too much.
In the dreamish world, I also finished the piece I am due to turn in for our meeting on Monday. In the realish world, it is a pathetic thing. My to do list is full of ephemera: catch up on work email, clean the toilet (which is analogous to writing), watch three hours of reality television, cry over ex-boyfriend, read backlogged New York Times magazine, make steak salad, write blog entry.
But the question is: how can you create David Lynch-like noise in 2D black on white? What does Florence smell like at dusk? How does your female narrator describe the chalk line between a man's welcome attention and the aggression that sets her overactive imagination toward the irrational?
Any help would be welcome.
In the dreamish world, I also finished the piece I am due to turn in for our meeting on Monday. In the realish world, it is a pathetic thing. My to do list is full of ephemera: catch up on work email, clean the toilet (which is analogous to writing), watch three hours of reality television, cry over ex-boyfriend, read backlogged New York Times magazine, make steak salad, write blog entry.
But the question is: how can you create David Lynch-like noise in 2D black on white? What does Florence smell like at dusk? How does your female narrator describe the chalk line between a man's welcome attention and the aggression that sets her overactive imagination toward the irrational?
Any help would be welcome.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Ranting in the Electric Church
A couple things to keep in mind if you’re lucky enough to get published. Ready?
1. Author photos: in your author photo, don’t touch your face. This is stupid and affected. Also, no pictures with your pets. I don’t care about them. So don’t tell me you live with three llamas and a Peruvian Parrot – I won’t read your book, you freak.
2. Acknowledgments: yes, please, if you get published, thank those that helped along the way – just remember that acknowledgments go in the back, not the front. And tone down the self-congratulatory bs. If your book is a work of genius, let other people tell me that. If you tell me, I won’t read your book, you freak.
Speaking of freaks – Jeff Somers has a new book coming out in the fall, a little rehashed cyberpunk tome called The Electric Church. The acknowledgments (which begin the book – steeeeriiike one!) start like this:
“When I handed my gorgeous wife, Danette, this manuscript….”
Ok. If this is how you begin your acknowledgments, if this is how you begin your book – if the first words that I ever see are the words “When I handed my gorgeous wife, Danette, this manuscript” I’m thinking to myself, why do you have the qualifier "gorgeous" before the word "wife"? Is your marriage in so much trouble that you have to suck up to her, using the first words in your book to do so? Because it's not cute, or sweet, it's off-putting.
(If your wife is gorgeous, let other people tell me that, ok? Please see Rule #2, above.)
And – if you think it’s not fair that I’m trashing the gorgeous wife, please wait. I’ll come back around to it. Trust me.
Anyway, that all amounts to steeriiike two!
Now, if you read past that first bit of Mr. Somers acknowledgments (most people won’t), then you’ll read that the gorgeous wife pronounces, “This is the one that’ll make you famous!” And while we can be agreed that it’s ok for spouses to enthuse, overly so, about the things we do and write, it’s unseemly if you have the hubris to agree with the spouse. Which, of course, is exactly what Mr. Somers does, for he concludes, “as always, my beloved and cherished wife was right.”
Have you heard of Mr. Somers or The Electric Church? Neither have I. So I’m just scratching my head, thinking, what was she right about? She said The Church was going to make Mr. Somers famous, but if that’s the case, where’s the prepublicity buzz? The snap, crackle and pop? I’m cupping my hand behind my ear and I’m hearing…crickets.
It’s at this point that the acknowledgements take an even more obnoxious turn. Mr. Somers thanks his agent. That’s all well and good. But then Mr. Somers informs us that his agent had the tools “to raise the book from a mere work of genius to a work of immense genius.” The italics are the author’s own, not mine. Makes you want to read the book, doesn’t it?
Oh wait, I forgot – you’re supposed to let other people tell me you’re a genius.
You freak.
And then, towards the end, Mr. Somers writes, “When, from time to time, I have suffered the cold sweat of self-doubt and thought, momentarily, that perhaps everything I write is not instantly a classic of literature that will be celebrated by future generations.…”
That’s a terrific line, no? I especially love the “momentarily.” Without it, you might not appreciate the fact that Mr. Somers is indeed asserting that, fleeting self-doubt notwithstanding, his words will be celebrated by my children’s children.
Steeeriike three!
Of course, I could just not be getting the joke. Perhaps Mr. Somers is trying to be wry. If that’s the case, Mr. Somers fails. Fails in his attempt, and thus fails in his writing, for I didn’t get the joke, nor did my immediate circle of friends.
But then perhaps we are all stupid. Perhaps this is an example of droll, New Jersey wit that we are unaccustomed to reading.
If you believe that, then consider this: the first words on the page were “When I handed my gorgeous wife, Danette, this manuscript....” Even though I’m not supposed to assume anything, ever, I will assume that Mr. Somers was not being wry here. But if the voice was attempting to be funny, if he was kidding later – just joshing you, folks! C’mon, lighten up! – then I would have to read the voice as funny at the beginning, also, because there’s never a change in tone, no neat writerly device tipping me to the fact that the frivolity has started. And that can’t be right, Mr. Somers must want/need us to believe that his wife is gorgeous – unless, again, he was joking, but then Mr. Somers would have to be involved in divorce proceedings, which I doubt.
And here's the important bit. If it didn't look like shouting, I'd put this all in caps. But that'd be shouting. So, understated, and not in all caps: if the first words I read are joking and droll, if they make me imagine a hipster sipping dirty martinis with a fedora rakishly tilted, swaying side-to-side as Frank croons in the background, if that's what I see, right out of the gates - then that's going to color what I expect out of the book. What I envision the words inside the Electric Church to be. But the Church ain't funny and sarcastic, not overall - its tone is dark, often electric, yes! But not cutesy. Sharp yes, cutesy no. Yet the acknowledgments read almost like a first chapter, and it reads cutesy. So don't - please - give me one tone and then rack off a bunch of words in another. Tone.
And so, again, please, stick the acknowledgments in the back. By that time, I'll have decided how electric the real words are. Before I ever see those other words.
To sum up – don’t touch your face in author photographs. If you're trying to be funny in your acknowledgments, then be funny. Finally, if you believe your own press, you have more trouble than I can hope to correct here.
Happy reading.
1. Author photos: in your author photo, don’t touch your face. This is stupid and affected. Also, no pictures with your pets. I don’t care about them. So don’t tell me you live with three llamas and a Peruvian Parrot – I won’t read your book, you freak.
2. Acknowledgments: yes, please, if you get published, thank those that helped along the way – just remember that acknowledgments go in the back, not the front. And tone down the self-congratulatory bs. If your book is a work of genius, let other people tell me that. If you tell me, I won’t read your book, you freak.
Speaking of freaks – Jeff Somers has a new book coming out in the fall, a little rehashed cyberpunk tome called The Electric Church. The acknowledgments (which begin the book – steeeeriiike one!) start like this:
“When I handed my gorgeous wife, Danette, this manuscript….”
Ok. If this is how you begin your acknowledgments, if this is how you begin your book – if the first words that I ever see are the words “When I handed my gorgeous wife, Danette, this manuscript” I’m thinking to myself, why do you have the qualifier "gorgeous" before the word "wife"? Is your marriage in so much trouble that you have to suck up to her, using the first words in your book to do so? Because it's not cute, or sweet, it's off-putting.
(If your wife is gorgeous, let other people tell me that, ok? Please see Rule #2, above.)
And – if you think it’s not fair that I’m trashing the gorgeous wife, please wait. I’ll come back around to it. Trust me.
Anyway, that all amounts to steeriiike two!
Now, if you read past that first bit of Mr. Somers acknowledgments (most people won’t), then you’ll read that the gorgeous wife pronounces, “This is the one that’ll make you famous!” And while we can be agreed that it’s ok for spouses to enthuse, overly so, about the things we do and write, it’s unseemly if you have the hubris to agree with the spouse. Which, of course, is exactly what Mr. Somers does, for he concludes, “as always, my beloved and cherished wife was right.”
Have you heard of Mr. Somers or The Electric Church? Neither have I. So I’m just scratching my head, thinking, what was she right about? She said The Church was going to make Mr. Somers famous, but if that’s the case, where’s the prepublicity buzz? The snap, crackle and pop? I’m cupping my hand behind my ear and I’m hearing…crickets.
It’s at this point that the acknowledgements take an even more obnoxious turn. Mr. Somers thanks his agent. That’s all well and good. But then Mr. Somers informs us that his agent had the tools “to raise the book from a mere work of genius to a work of immense genius.” The italics are the author’s own, not mine. Makes you want to read the book, doesn’t it?
Oh wait, I forgot – you’re supposed to let other people tell me you’re a genius.
You freak.
And then, towards the end, Mr. Somers writes, “When, from time to time, I have suffered the cold sweat of self-doubt and thought, momentarily, that perhaps everything I write is not instantly a classic of literature that will be celebrated by future generations.…”
That’s a terrific line, no? I especially love the “momentarily.” Without it, you might not appreciate the fact that Mr. Somers is indeed asserting that, fleeting self-doubt notwithstanding, his words will be celebrated by my children’s children.
Steeeriike three!
Of course, I could just not be getting the joke. Perhaps Mr. Somers is trying to be wry. If that’s the case, Mr. Somers fails. Fails in his attempt, and thus fails in his writing, for I didn’t get the joke, nor did my immediate circle of friends.
But then perhaps we are all stupid. Perhaps this is an example of droll, New Jersey wit that we are unaccustomed to reading.
If you believe that, then consider this: the first words on the page were “When I handed my gorgeous wife, Danette, this manuscript....” Even though I’m not supposed to assume anything, ever, I will assume that Mr. Somers was not being wry here. But if the voice was attempting to be funny, if he was kidding later – just joshing you, folks! C’mon, lighten up! – then I would have to read the voice as funny at the beginning, also, because there’s never a change in tone, no neat writerly device tipping me to the fact that the frivolity has started. And that can’t be right, Mr. Somers must want/need us to believe that his wife is gorgeous – unless, again, he was joking, but then Mr. Somers would have to be involved in divorce proceedings, which I doubt.
And here's the important bit. If it didn't look like shouting, I'd put this all in caps. But that'd be shouting. So, understated, and not in all caps: if the first words I read are joking and droll, if they make me imagine a hipster sipping dirty martinis with a fedora rakishly tilted, swaying side-to-side as Frank croons in the background, if that's what I see, right out of the gates - then that's going to color what I expect out of the book. What I envision the words inside the Electric Church to be. But the Church ain't funny and sarcastic, not overall - its tone is dark, often electric, yes! But not cutesy. Sharp yes, cutesy no. Yet the acknowledgments read almost like a first chapter, and it reads cutesy. So don't - please - give me one tone and then rack off a bunch of words in another. Tone.
And so, again, please, stick the acknowledgments in the back. By that time, I'll have decided how electric the real words are. Before I ever see those other words.
To sum up – don’t touch your face in author photographs. If you're trying to be funny in your acknowledgments, then be funny. Finally, if you believe your own press, you have more trouble than I can hope to correct here.
Happy reading.
Kitchen Sink Magazine ... farewell
Some of you know I've been a staff film critic for Kitchen Sink Magazine for a couple of years.
The good news is that the sixteenth issue is now on newsstands and includes an article I wrote about a pair of Russian scifi action flicks called Night Watch and Day Watch. The bad news is that this will be the final issue. They were doing well (for an indy mag), but their distributor declared bankruptcy and refused to pay them so ... that was that.
The Buzz Gallery/Mama Buzz Café (2318 Telegraph Ave., Berkeley) is hosting a closing show for the magazine for the entire month of July. It includes a collection of covers, illustrations, and other KS-related paraphernalia. It's small, but the art is cool.
More info is available online at the website.
The good news is that the sixteenth issue is now on newsstands and includes an article I wrote about a pair of Russian scifi action flicks called Night Watch and Day Watch. The bad news is that this will be the final issue. They were doing well (for an indy mag), but their distributor declared bankruptcy and refused to pay them so ... that was that.
The Buzz Gallery/Mama Buzz Café (2318 Telegraph Ave., Berkeley) is hosting a closing show for the magazine for the entire month of July. It includes a collection of covers, illustrations, and other KS-related paraphernalia. It's small, but the art is cool.
More info is available online at the website.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
What are you Reading? THEN WE CAME TO THE END by Joshua Ferris
Just finished Then We Came to the End by Joshua Ferris (Little, Brown and Company). Ferris's novel is set in a once-successful advertising agency experiencing decline and layoffs.
I picked it out of a pile of novels because Ferris graduated from the UC Irvine MFA program and because I loved the first page: "We were fractious and overpaid. Our mornings lacked promise. At least those of us who smoked had something to look forward to at ten-fifteen. Most of us liked most everyone, a few of us hated specific individuals, one or two people loved everyone and everything. Those who loved everyone were unanimously reviled." I wondered if he could keep up the first person plural. Turned out he could, brilliantly.
Ferris is a writer's writer. He switches away from the "we" narration for a section in the middle of the book, which builds a suspense based not on events but on the device. A writer can't help but applaud the cleverness at the end of the book when he brings around the explanation. I use the word device, but the "we" is not divisive. It could have been if the characters around the narrator were not so acutely drawn. I had great sympathy for the character, Lynn; in fact, there's a character for everyone.
Finally, Ferris knows how to work the humor and has a great and distinctive voice. For all these and other reasons it's a great book for studying craft. I recommend.
So... what are you all reading?
I picked it out of a pile of novels because Ferris graduated from the UC Irvine MFA program and because I loved the first page: "We were fractious and overpaid. Our mornings lacked promise. At least those of us who smoked had something to look forward to at ten-fifteen. Most of us liked most everyone, a few of us hated specific individuals, one or two people loved everyone and everything. Those who loved everyone were unanimously reviled." I wondered if he could keep up the first person plural. Turned out he could, brilliantly.
Ferris is a writer's writer. He switches away from the "we" narration for a section in the middle of the book, which builds a suspense based not on events but on the device. A writer can't help but applaud the cleverness at the end of the book when he brings around the explanation. I use the word device, but the "we" is not divisive. It could have been if the characters around the narrator were not so acutely drawn. I had great sympathy for the character, Lynn; in fact, there's a character for everyone.
Finally, Ferris knows how to work the humor and has a great and distinctive voice. For all these and other reasons it's a great book for studying craft. I recommend.
So... what are you all reading?
Friday, July 20, 2007
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Thursday, July 19, 2007
Groop members: please comment!
If you have recommendations for additions or changes to the blog, including links to add to the link lists, advertisements for groop publications that I may not know about, or other suggestions for peripheral material to add to the site, please add a comment to this message. I will check this post on a regular basis.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Groop Speaks Out
So, we're sitting here in the actual writing group. Yes, some of us actually meet in the real world still and discuss each other's fiction. Imagine. And we thought we would post. We're thinking of all of you who couldn't make it tonight. Hope you're doing well. Tonight we (Nick, Jen, Jeremy, Ben) workshopped Ben's story, The Purple Witch, and we made it better. Of course.
We also ate Zachary's pizza and drank Cabernet Sauvignon ... and gossiped. Because that's what groop is all about.
By the way, Roxy looks like a hound dog. She is our mascot.
We also ate Zachary's pizza and drank Cabernet Sauvignon ... and gossiped. Because that's what groop is all about.
By the way, Roxy looks like a hound dog. She is our mascot.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Much Ado about Skidoo
Christian Divine and Skidoo appear in the Huffington Post... twice.
It's not too late to catch the show.
Go Christian!
It's not too late to catch the show.
Go Christian!
Germ of an idea for a blog
Yesterday I wrote this message to current members of groop:
"All of this is both gross and entertaining. I think we should share it with the public. I think we should start a groop blog called groop in which we all contribute entries about our writing process, weird dreams, groop critique summaries, ideas for writing, psychological break-thrus etc. We can engage our farflung correspondents. We can list books by groop members on the side and make money for our next publishing ventures. We can promote our work and ourselves and get ourselves exposed, 2.0 style. We can self-publish our flash fiction and short stories and poems using creative commons licenses so that they get spread far and wide. Christian can promote Skidoo. We can link to our author tours using www.booktour.com. We can promote Books, inc. in Alameda on a regular basis. We can hold a contest to pick the title of Bridget's book (thereby attracting her the big publisher her book deserves). We can do capsule reviews of the last favorite book that we read.
"Discuss."
Now here we are.
"All of this is both gross and entertaining. I think we should share it with the public. I think we should start a groop blog called groop in which we all contribute entries about our writing process, weird dreams, groop critique summaries, ideas for writing, psychological break-thrus etc. We can engage our farflung correspondents. We can list books by groop members on the side and make money for our next publishing ventures. We can promote our work and ourselves and get ourselves exposed, 2.0 style. We can self-publish our flash fiction and short stories and poems using creative commons licenses so that they get spread far and wide. Christian can promote Skidoo. We can link to our author tours using www.booktour.com. We can promote Books, inc. in Alameda on a regular basis. We can hold a contest to pick the title of Bridget's book (thereby attracting her the big publisher her book deserves). We can do capsule reviews of the last favorite book that we read.
"Discuss."
Now here we are.
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