Movies & books

Saw two movies this weekend: Mamma Mia and Vicky, Christina, Barcelona, the new Woody Allen flick. My favorite Woody Allen movies are Annie Hall and Hannah & Her Sisters...and now I can add to that list Vicky, Christina, Barcelona. At first I wasn't sure what to make of that odd narrative voice that summarizes and comments on the action, but I ended up liking it. It was dry, humorous, different.And oh my gawd, Javier Bardem and Penelope Cruz! I usually don't care too much about beautiful, but JHC, they both bring out the bi in my sexual. And how lucky was Scarlett Johansson to get to ... well, no plot spoilers.

Speaking of Miss Scarlett, I thought she actually did a good job in this movie. Usually she's so wooden, acting only with her pouty lips. Woody Allen is finally bringing out the something special in her that apparently he sees (beyond the bod).

Mamma Mia was manic but fun. I actually liked it better than the local stage version we saw a few years back. My favorite parts were the all the women running together singing "Dancing Queen" (that's such a great, nostalgic song for me)--and the incredible, amazing, can-do-anything Meryl Streep with her red shawl in the wind singing "The Winner Takes It All."

(Is it just me, or is the Abba "Money Money Money" song a rip-off of "Money Makes the World Go Around from Cabaret?)

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More news on the For the May Queen front:

And yet another new blurb! Look left. This one's from Jayne Pupek, the author of a wonderful new novel Tomato Girl (more on that in a September post). Just got the next version of the galleys from my publisher. I'm thrilled with the fonts they chose.

A page turner

Another new blurb! Look left, below the image of the novel cover.

Or you can just read the novel and never talk about it.

My publisher, VHP, asked me to write some book group questions for my novel. I was nervous at first, but after re-reading the novel, they just came pouring out. Here they are:

1. This is a “fish out of water” story in that Norma steps from a familiar world into a new one. In what ways do Norma’s home life and college life contrast?

2. Upon moving into the dorms, Norma is immersed in a culture of “partying.” Is this a culture that’s familiar to you? Are all college dorms essentially similar? Do you see this culture as a “normal” coming-of-age experience or as a dangerous problem?

3. Given that Norma realizes Jack is probably seeing other women—and that he doesn’t spend a lot of time with her—why is she so attached to him? Why does she become attached to Chuck? In what ways are Jack and Chuck similar and different?

4. This novel, in part, is about the challenges and allure of freedom. What is your definition of freedom? In what ways is Norma free and not free? What are the benefits and drawbacks of freedom?

5. In what ways do Norma and her mother connect? In what ways do they conflict? Does Norma’s relationship with her mother seem familiar or unfamiliar to you?

6. Several novels are mentioned in this one, such as Fear of Flying and Go Ask Alice. What role do novels and reading play in this novel?

7. Norma often reflects upon society’s portrayal of, judgments about and expectations of women in terms of sex, sexuality, appearance, behavior, and relationships. What are some examples in the novel? What is Norma grappling with in terms of gender roles?

8. There are many distinctive characters in For the May Queen. Who’s your favorite character in the novel, and why?

9. At the novel’s opening, Norma and Billy sing “Stairway to Heaven,” which includes the lyric, “It’s just a spring clean for the May Queen.” Look up the complete lyrics for this Led Zepplin song. Why do you think the novel is titled For the May Queen?

10. Weddings and marriage are a recurring motif in this novel, such as Suzy’s wedding plans, the marriage of Diana to Prince Charles, and the soap opera wedding of Luke and Laura. What role does this theme play in the book? What is Norma grappling with when she thinks about marriage?

11. Did you figure out before Norma did the secrets of Stacy and Chuck—or were the revelations a surprise to you? When you look back on the novel, what clues might foreshadow these revelations?

12. Did you like the last chapter of the novel? Why or why not?

"There are three rules to writing a novel. Unfortunately no one knows what they are."

Literary Rejections on Display quoted this famous saying by Somerset Maugham and asked us if we DO know what they are. Here's my closest guess:

1. Put your butt in the chair every day.

2. Write on a laptop that doesn't connect to the internet.

3. "You are freer than you think." (Foucault).

What think you?

Exciting publishing news!

I just found out that I'm getting a contract offer next week on my novel, For the May Queen! It's the first novel I wrote, and I've been through a lot with it--many near-misses. So I'm thrilled!

Here's what it's about:

In the opening to For the May Queen, it’s 1981 and 17-year-old Norma Rogers' parents drop her off at the college dorms. Soon, Norma finds herself drunk and nearly naked with three strangers. The strip poker event is the first of many experiences that prompt Norma to question who she is—and who she wants to be.

Norma's relationships with an array of characters induce her to grapple with society's messages about women, sex, and freedom. These characters include Jack, her aloof on-again, off-again boyfriend; Goat, her antsy dorm neighbor; Liz Chan, a pot-smoking sorority girl; Benny Moss, a nerdy guy who has a thing for Liz; and Paul Fellows, Benny's roommate, whom Norma calls “Chuck” because he reminds her of Charlie Brown. Chuck, a witty aficionado of old films, plays a pivotal role in Norma's discoveries about life's possibilities, as does Norma's roommate Stacy—a beautiful, kind, and somewhat mysterious blonde.

Many tumultuous events take Norma (and the reader) through an array of troubles, pleasures, and thrills: from drug use and ominous encounters with strangers, to rowdy parties and road trips, to queer coming-out surprises.

In the midst of these incidents—which are peppered with 1970's and 1980's pop cultural references—Norma reflects on her desire for freedom (sexual and otherwise). Reinforcing these themes are the intermittent appearances of her middle-class parents and her sister, as well as her best friend from high school whose life in a small town—as she prepares for her upcoming wedding—is poles apart from Norma’s.

Ultimately Norma comes to see that there are many ways to live and love.

I can hardly wait!

Had a great time with Mom. She spent three nights here, and we did a lot together, including a drive through the redwoods, a walk along the beach, the farmers' market, and a matinee of Sex and the City.

On our way to the movie, we told Mom it would probably be kind of "nasty." She said, "I can hardly wait!"

Mom and Annie enjoyed the movie. For me, though, the movie had gotten such great reviews that I was expecting more. It was just okay for me (to quote Randy Jackson). If I had never seen the TV show, I don't think I would have liked it at all. The most pleasure I got out of the movie was the nostalgia of seeing all the women together again. I was drawing on the complexities of their characters from the TV show to fill in the blanks of the movie. The movie somehow felt less edgy and more surfacy than the TV show, with more focus on fashion. Even when the TV show highlighted fashion, those scenes were imbued with more ironic meaning.

This week I plan to plow forward on the novel. I feel like the research has been building up inside of me, and I'm ready to explore some living time with my characters.

In the back of my mind are the fact that an agent is looking at my memoir, a small press is considering one of my novels, and another small press is considering another one of my novels. ("I can hardly wait!" to hear . . . ) But I want to put all of this out of my mind as much as possible and focus on my art. It's too easy to let the business side derail me. The business side is ephemeral. The art is forever.

Inhabiting other worlds

Ana Castillo is coming to our campus in the fall, and I'll be teaching her new novel The Guardians.

So that means I need to read it in advance, which I'm doing right now. (I guess I need to read it in advance; I used to have a professor who liked to assign one book she'd never read so that she could "discover" it along with the students.)


I'm loving it. The voices are lively, powerful. The novel is told from four points of view: Regina (a teacher's aide in her 50's who is taking care of her nephew while trying to find her missing brother); Gabo (the nephew, who wants to become a priest but is hanging out with a gang-banger); Miguel (a teacher and acivitist and Lothario at the school where Regina works); and Milton (Miguel's crusty old grandfather).

The novel takes place in El Paso and grapples with things that happen at the U.S./Mexico border.

I love that the characters have opinions and social issues, politics, life. Of course are those who say Castillo's being didactic or political. But the multitude of voices and the art of her writing make it a rich read.

Besides, when John Updike's white male characters speak they are being "universal." But when Ana Castillo's Chicanas and Chicanos speak, they are being "didactic." Sorry, I don't buy the straight white male point of view as automatically universal. I relish inhabiting Rabbit's world; and I relish inhabiting Regina's.

Best firsts and a minimalist musical cat

Pantagraph.com posted the American Book Review's list of the "100 best first lines from novels." I chose my top ten from their list. (The numbers indicate where these fell on their list):

1. Call me Ishmael. -- Herman Melville, Moby-Dick (1851)

8. It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. -- George Orwell, 1984 (1949)

10. I am an invisible man. --Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man (1952)

12. You don't know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain't no matter. --Mark Twain, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (1885)

26. 124 was spiteful. --Toni Morrison, Beloved (1987)

37. Mrs. Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself. --Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway (1925)

50. I was born twice: first, as a baby girl, on a remarkably smogless Detroit day in January of 1960; and then again, as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of 1974. --Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex (2002)

64. In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since. -- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (1925)

65. You better not never tell nobody but God. --Alice Walker, The Color Purple (1982)

97. He -- for there could be no doubt of his sex, though the fashion of the time did something to disguise it --was in the act of slicing at the head of a Moor which swung from the rafters. --Virginia Woolf, Orlando (1928)

For the other 90, click here.

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And something that has nothing at all to do with this blog: How can you resist a cat that plays Philip Glass?

Them

I'm reading them, the National Award-winning early novel by Joyce Carol Oates. It's oddly melodramatic (get a load of the cornball paperback cover), yet it's also mesmerizing.

In style and substance, it has a naturalist quality like novels by Zola and Frank Norris.

Since reading Oates' journal, I decided to tackle more of her fiction. I'm going to read probably about six or seven of her novels in chronological order to get a sense of her growth as a writer.

Here's a clip of JCO talking about novel writing. I like what she says about characters--as well as about perseverance.

Shall I Practice What I Preach?

I'm always talking to my students about opening their stories in a way that intrigues the reader. The opening needs to reflect something about the story's main conflict and issues--which means you'll probably need to revise your opening after you've written the story and discovered what it's about. One good way to do this is to drop us right into meaningful action.

And, ahem, that's the exact advice I received from an editor of a publisher who is interested in my novel Complementary Colors. The opening was too slow, too focused on setting things up--things that didn't necessarily resonate with the heart of the novel.

I revised the opening, thinking I'd fixed it. A participant in my manuscript group (there are four of us who exchange full manuscript edits, a kind of bartering system) said it still didn't start at the heart of the story. I looked at it again and realized there was still too much "throat clearing." And the first line was boring! It had nothing to do with the true struggles the narrator faces.

So I rewrote it again. The first sentence now has more depth. It carries multiple meanings. And there, on the first page, is a key action that plunges the reader right into the story's "trouble." The "trouble" that leads to transformation.

I've now sent it back to the editor. I'll let you know if she thinks I was successful.

Novelistic

A small press is showing interest in one of my novels. An editor has asked me for some revisions, which I've been working on all day--and last night since I couldn't fall asleep (for reasons to be discussed in another entry, once I can share them).

On the reading front, I've been luxuriating in Joyce Carol Oates' journal. Here's an excerpt written in March 1975:

"The novelist is an empiricist, an observer of facts . . . objective and subjective 'reality' . . . he must guard against the demonic idea of imagining that he possesses or even can possess ultimate truth. . . . The person who completes a novel is not the person who began it. Hence the joy of creation, the unpredictable changes, transformations, some minute and some major. As soon as the novelist stops observing, however, he becomes something else--an evangelist, a politician. . . . When one believes he has the Truth, he is no longer an artist."

She often mentions in the journal her husband, Raymond Smith, founder of the Ontario Review. I just googled him and was stunned to find out he died two weeks ago. They had been married more than 45 years.

Poetry Tuesday--and Your Advice

Not until I came onto blog did I notice: It's Tuesday!

I'd thought it was Monday.

It's so easy to lose track of the days when I have the summer off.

And also when I'm absorbed in working on my novel, as I have been. My head's in that world more than this one.

Needless to say, I missed Poetry Monday. I will be back at it again next week.

In the meantime, in the past seven weeks, I have featured seven poets on my Poetry Monday feature. If you missed any of them, click below and check them out:

Collin Kelley
Susan Rich
Larissa Shmailo
Lorna Dee Cervantes
Ellen Bass
C. Dale Young
Joan McMillan

AND I SOLICIT YOUR ADVICE: I have a few more poets in line to feature...but if you have any poets (who have a blog presence) you'd like to nominate to be featured in a future Poetry Monday, please let me know by email or a comment on this blog.

Poets and Rushdie

See: Five Poets You Should Be Reading . . . I'm honored to be on this list!

(Another poet you should be reading: the guy who wrote the list, Collin Kelley.)

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Last night at Bookshop Santa Cruz I saw Ellen Bass and Phyllis Koestenbaum read. As you know from a previous post, I'm a big fan of Ellen's, and last night she did not disappoint. Her new book is brilliant, funny, and deeply moving. And her delivery makes the poems pop in the air.

I'd never before heard Phyllis. She's fascinating. It seems like she's relentless in pushing herself to try new things. She read some fragments and some very long poems.

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I'm reading The Satanic Verses. So far? Pretty damn funny, a romp. I keep thinking, someone wanted to kill him for this? Generally, I'm not big on satire (since I like my literature a bit more character-driven and sincere), but I am carried away by the sheer exuberance of Rushdie's writing.

Besides, Rushdie is visiting our campus in the fall, so I figured I better catch up . . . this novel has been gathering dust in my "published in 1988" pile.

7Up, Ellen, Surprise Money, Sushi and Soulmates

Usually this time of year, summer is beaming down its promise on me. The promise of so much time to write and to follow my rhythms. Not this year, though. Everything feels askew, with my father gone two months and my mom suffering in the hospital. Today I brought her 7-Up and slip-on shoes and magazines. When I walked in the door she said, "It's sure good to see you." (Funny, she never said that when I was a teenager!)

We walked together up and down the hallways, her holding onto her IV pole for security. I know she's afraid of falling again. Who can blame her. We watched Ellen together. Ellen makes her laugh. Ellen, I love you for that.

When I got home, I had a surprise email from the Bellevue Literary Review telling me they received a grant and so are paying all the contributors to the Spring Issue a retroactive $100 stipend. I feel like I put on an old jacket and discovered cash in the pocket.

I also heard from my friend Janelle who's been at Cannes (because) -- and she said it's a magical place. She's already scheming of ways to move there.

Annie whisked me off to sushi. California Rolls and Sapporo are great comfort food.

I'm continuing to try to slip in research for my novel, reading Jane Bowles' letters. I'm struck by how she and Paul were married for many years but didn't live together much and had lots of (same-sex) relationships with others. And yet they were clearly very connected. Kind of like Auden and Chester Kallman. Chester, who was 14 years younger than Auden, broke Auden's heart by not being monogamous. But over the years they remained soulmates of a sort; Auden died at age 66, and Chester soon followed.

Yesterday Was . . .

. . . 12 hours with my mom, getting her transferred from the care facility back into the hospital since she she's been having more health problems.

Today was fielding phone calls about her care and a transfer to another hospital since there's no room in the one she was taken to yesterday.

The day before yesterday was a glorious 22-mile bike ride with Annie, here,

along the Coyote Creek Trail. Hawks with wingspans like open-doored cars swooped over our heads, and we swerved around two magnificent rattlesnakes who were grabbing some rays on the trail.

In the midst of it all, I've been continuing research for my novel. I've mostly been reading about Auden's and Britten's creation of the operetta Paul Bunyan. In the lyrics, Paul Bunyan expresses the hope that Americans will be saved from the

Pressure Group that says I am the Constitution,
From those who say Patriotism and mean Persecution,
From entertainments neither true nor beautiful nor witty . . .
From the dirty-mindedness of a Watch Committee.

Auden witnessed the devastating rise of facism in Europe. And yet he was not a blind patriot for Democracy. He recognized that all systems have their pitfalls and need their critics.

Speaking of critics, GO JIMMY. And swallow any possible apologies. I don't know why it's considered such an anathema for one President to speak his truth about another. Patriotism serves to silence.

February House

Did you know that W.H. Auden, Carson McCullers, Jane and Paul Bowles, Benjamin Britten, and Gypsy Rose Lee all lived together for a few years under the same roof?

Their fixer-up Brooklyn brownstone was "host to an explosion of creativity, an extraordinary experiment in communal living, and a nonstop yearlong party" as the book jacket of Sherill Tippins' February House reads.

Many of these people will make appearances in my new novel. I'm reading Tippins' book as part of my research. This is the best kind of research, where you lose yourself in great reading that evokes the complexities of people and their time.

Carson McCullers and Jane Bowles--both of whom were married to men but had passionate affairs with women--will figure prominently in my as yet unnamed novel. I'm discovering so many interconnections among the (mainly queer) literary figures of the era that I'm gloriously drenched in the chaos of discovery.

The more I read about Auden and his lover Chester Kalman, the more I think that perhaps I have two or three novels coming out of this research.

I wish I could say more, but I've got to run off to the university to take part in a departmental reading of student essays. It's an all-day affair of reading anonymous paper after paper, scoring them based on a 1-6 rubric. A weird tradition, a bit like self-flagellation. It requires a lot of caffeine to stay on task.

Cover, Continued

Can you see this image on the cover of For the May Queen?

Or what about this one:
As I talked about here, here and here--oh, and here, too--Merge Press has asked if I'd like to have any input on the cover of my novel, so I've been searching high and low.

My friend Nancy has been playing around with the image I like best to try to make it more colorful, more noticeable.

I like this image because it's both playful and nuanced. It feels a little happy, a little sad--and a bunch quirky. In its original manifestation, the colors and placement were nothing eye-catching. Now, Nancy's magic has made it come alive.

I also love the image because the novel's narrator, Norma, is a redhead who does not have a "perfect" body. And because we can't see the face in the image, it allows us to imagine Norma for ourselves as we read. Finally, the flower evokes the "May" of the title--as well as girl/womanhood and sexuality.

I think it's got it all.

Do you?

Would You Buy a Book With This Cover?

As I wrote about here and here, I'm helping my publisher seek image ideas for my novel, For the May Queen (for a synopsis, go here). Here's another one I just found. I like it best, I think, so far because it's the most nuanced.

To me, this image says sexuality, girl/woman, May, darkness and light. I like the colors and the composition.

What think you?

Not a Typical Tuesday

I was at the hospital all day today with my mom. She has fallen twice in the five weeks since my father died. It's been a rough, rough time to say the least.

When I got home tonight, our neighbors invited us over for a glass of wine--and sent us home with a casserole dish full of the best pasta dish I've ever eaten. I'm filled with the buzz of good wine and gratitude for friends.

And more good stuff in the midst of it all: Merge Press has announced on their website that they're working on the release of my novel.

And as requested by Merge Press, I've still been seeking out suggestions for a good cover image for my novel, For the May Queen (as I wrote about here). Below is one that appeals to me--it's very different from the "album cover" feel of the other one I was considering--but I'd want to crop out the wine glass since it looks too swanky for a dorm novel.

Would you buy a novel with this image on the cover?

Judging A Book By Its Cover

What does the image above make you think about? How's it make you feel? Would you buy a book with this image on the cover?

The Merge Press people have asked me to search around on Istockphoto.com for images I think might be good to incorporate on my novel's cover. This is one of the cool things about working with an indepedent press: they solicit your input.

If you have image ideas that you think might be good, I'd love it if you'd send them my way. For guidance, here's the official lowdown on my novel:

Only hours after 17-year-old Norma Rogers' parents drop her off at the college dorms, Norma finds herself drunk and nearly naked with three strangers. This is the opening to FOR THE MAY QUEEN, an edgy romp of a novel about a young woman’s sexual misadventures her first year away from home in the early 1980’s. The strip poker event is the first of many experiences that prompt Norma to question who she is—and who she wants to be.

Norma's relationships with an array of characters induce her to grapple with society's messages about women, sex, and freedom. These characters include Jack, her aloof on-again, off-again boyfriend; Goat, her antsy dorm neighbor; Liz Chan, a pot-smoking sorority girl; Benny Moss, a nerdy guy who has a thing for Liz; and Paul Fellows, Benny's roommate, whom Norma calls “Chuck” because he reminds her of Charlie Brown. Chuck, a witty aficionado of old films, dubs her “Norma Jean.” Chuck plays a pivotal role in Norma's discoveries about life's possibilities, as does Norma's roommate Stacy—a beautiful, kind, and somewhat mysterious blonde.

Many tumultuous events take Norma (and the reader) through an array of troubles, pleasures, and thrills: from drug use and ominous encounters with strangers, to rowdy parties and road trips. In the midst of these incidents—which are peppered with 1970's and 1980's pop cultural references—Norma reflects on her desire for freedom (sexual and otherwise). Reinforcing these themes are the intermittent appearances of her middle-class parents and her sister, as well as her best friend from high school whose life in a small town—as she prepares for her upcoming wedding—is poles apart from Norma’s. Ultimately Norma comes to see that there are many ways to live and love.

FOR THE MAY QUEEN is a lively look at college sex, the double standards of promiscuity, and the fact that sex and sexuality are always so much more complex than they seem. A smart yet highly readable, madcap yet tender novel, FOR THE MAY QUEEN is packed with surprising plot twists and unforgettable characters.