What can you read over and over again?

Every short story in each of Joy Williams' three collections.

Martin Amis' Time's Arrow and Einstein's Monsters.

Padgett Powell's short stories (most of them but not all of them).

G.K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy.

Some things I have never heard but would like to hear before I leave college forever

"Please rewrite this paper in the future tense. I can't make heads or tails out of it as it is."

"I agree with you completely. T.S. Eliot was a goddamn lunatic for writing that nonsense."

"We in the administration value you as a student, not just as a dollar-figure."

"Please put your pants back on."

"Yes, your student health insurance will cover that."

"We don't know how they escaped. But you'll need tomato sauce, believe us."

"The university has decided to play 'opposite fiscal year.' This year the English department gets the athletic department's budget, and the athletic department gets the English department's budget."

Process II

From a Joy Williams story: "Once I dreamed of baking a bat in the oven."

(The rest is not from Joy Williams stories.)

(!) He made a throne. His friend said it was supposed to be uncomfortable. They argued. They cited historical examples. (!) He wanted to be a brigand when he grew up. (!) Point of order. Restraint! Restraint! Handcuffs!
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Dare, chance, gamble, risk. . . . . How do we ARC? What is arc? Trajectory? Something -- someone -- must set an arc/trajectory in motion. Up & away OR down & away. What sets trajectory moving backward? How would this happen/work: UNDERTRAJECTORY? . . . . fire into the ground? Digging? Underground. Diving? Underwater. Descending movement. Descending but moving forward. Underway. Unterweg. Back and forth? Hin und her? How much is hidden among what is shown? How much is presented and how much is overlooked?
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Considered thus far or soon-to-be considered:
Process.
Revision.
Rewrite.
Heart.
Spine.
Truth.
Tension.
Arc.
Trajectory.
Pace: of narrative, of writing.
Pace: of emotion, of logic.
Can we know the process of another?
Limits.
Limitations.

Update (11/18/08):
I apologize for this post. It makes no sense. I don't know what I was thinking but I wrote it during a class. That was wrong of me. Perhaps I was distracted or off fighting evil in another universe. I don't rightly remember. Sorry.

No, I take it back. Some of it makes sense, with tweaking:
He made a throne. The throne was made of scrap lumber and carpet samples. His friend said it was supposed to be uncomfortable. "It's plenty uncomfortable," he said. They argued. They cited historical examples. The friend said, "Genghis Khan rode a horse all day. That gets uncomfortable." His rebuttal was, "This isn't a horse. What the hell are you talking about?" The friend stared at him in disbelief that they were arguing about this in the first place. Then the friend said, "I can't believe you made a throne. You're no king. How presumptious." He said, "Get the hell out of my garage."

Close-Read Tension

A bad haircut. A cricket pushes a button. A bake sale gone bad. An enterprise consisting of boing. A farmer has a lizard problem. We recycled our housekeys on accident. Research indicates gibberish raises blood pressure. The mayor claims to have made water flow uphill. A flea infestation leads to hangings. A bad instinct. None of the dolls wear pants. The dolls wear shirts and boots but not pants. Her pirate rides a pteradactyl to the fire station. Her pirate. The pirate wench conceals a flintlock pistol behind her back.

Something for later. An unknown at death. A will. A snack to preempt hunger. An extra $20 from the ATM. Something for later.

Tension. We understand 1st drafts (garbage). We understand revision. The question now becomes How do we create and effect tension among characters and reader? The nuances have yet been lost on me. Certainly tension works differently in every story. What is the tension-organ? Nerves?

[Not that one, this one.] With tension the comfortable are disturbed. (With truth the disturbed are comforted.) I have never murdered a characer. I have never characterized a murder. I don’t think especially about killing. To kill would change a story, its dynamics. Imagine the effect of killing a character, of murdering a character mid-story. That would create tension. [Tension with a subtle-B.]

If I know where I’m going when I set out, then I’m not lost; I’m on vacation.

A tunnel in the sand. An overwhelming selection of pens. Discarded helmets. Why are there golf clubs in the storage freezer? Night of the toads. A police cruiser, an ambulance, and a fire truck at a suburban house at the climax of rush-hour, a case of domestic violence, spousal abuse, jealousy, all of it seen through the front window and reported by many dozens of motorists.

Hidden Heart

It's amazing how easy the act of revision comes now. "Revise" used to be the most difficult part of the work. It never went anywhere.

This story I wrote almost two years ago has been evading me. Today I captured it's hidden heart. Or at least a ventricle, perhaps an aorta. But I would guess that about 75% of the story was a narcissistic celebration of youthful whining. The 25% that wasn't all about me showed enormous potential. And yet again the character with whom the heart of the story lies is a woman.

In many of the stories I write the focal character is female. I set this as a personal challenge a long time ago, to write a female perspective. I did, and then I wrote more. They keep coming back. They are more interesting than just about every male character I've written (a juvenile bunch of ne'er-do-wells, with the occasional highly isolated neurotic thrown in). The female characters have more personality too. They are more complex, more complicated, more vulnerable to every possible extreme I can imagine. They are also more resiliant. They seem in many ways more human. I wonder why this is. (No reason for me to think too much about it, or I'll just end up confusing myself.)

Perhaps through them I can say all the things that I cannot say through male characters. I don't know. This requires more process.

The Spine and Cowardice

In order to stand up to you, I have to turn around and show you my backbone. I have to be at your mercy. I have to turn my back on you, I have to risk my life on your honor not to strike me from behind. I have to accept that you might stab me in the back and I would not be able to stop you.

Process

Have you ever put your ear to a cat?

This is an ongoing question.

"Ongoing" is self-contained. One cannot "ongo" and a group cannot "have ongone." Nor: he/she/it "onwent" but it "went on" for some time. Things happen; they "go on" every day.

"Fiction should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable." -David Foster Wallace

Part of my process sums up as a lot of rolling around not writing much of anything, but holding the story on the edge of a knife: I don't think about the story too much but I think about it.

The process functions in fragmentary fits. There is no quota. There is no product. The process is ongoing. Everworking. Phenomenal. There is no blame. (Like SUBTLETY: it's not SUBTLE without a B.) When the pen is not in motion, the mind is. The eye is. The nose and ears. The tongue. The skin, the heart, the lungs, the entire nervous energy, the demand for food, the bursts of lust, the need to fuck, it's all the process.

I think I'd rather have my masculinity questioned than be called spineless. I could get by without my balls, but not without my spine.

Of course your characters will evade your attempts to invade their lives. You're God to them. They hate you for it. They're real. But they're not actual people. You won't hurt their feelings by writing out their secrets in detail for the whole world. It's only human to want to witness the misery and suffering of others, and be able to say, "I'm glad that's not me."

The process is very slow. This is because I don't know where the fuck I'm going.

We Want to Live!

November now. Someone has been thinking over the past few weeks about the Heart of a story. What is it? How does it work? What does it do? Why is it there? How does one bring it to life? Then this same someone was reading through his writing journal (and marveling at the inanity of some of the entries therein) when he encountered a question: "What is the spine of the story?" Unanswerable at the time of writing, now the question gained a new facet of perspective. The Spine of a story is its logical straight-and-true, the literal truth of a story. The Heart of a story is its emotional straight-and-true, its flows and lifeblood, what sustains the story.

In other uninteresting news, I can't think of any. Except this: If you're the kind of person who gets lonely in the winter, go to Pet Expo and buy yourself a plastic container and a bag of bigass crickets. Crickets in winter.

Ein Laterne, ein Lausejunge, der Lautsprecher: lautlos

Don't read this. This isn't worth reading. This will tell you nothing you don't already know. This might land you in court, in jail, in detention, in solitary confinement. This is the hard way to update your computer. This is the 25% more, free, without purchase of the rest of the product. This is a test flight. This is a sparrow or a bat carcass stuck in the grill of your truck. This is a lanky cat showing you its asshole. This is moldy bread. This could lend you money or take money away from you. This theory makes no sense. This guy's acid trip went splat after twelve stories. This means don't drop acid in a high-rise dormitory. This will understandably lead to rhetorical grammar. This is the fourth edition. This smells like teriyaki chicken. This check will not clear without personal sacrifice. This commendation to the First Marine Division, Reinforced, at one time will have been rendered pointless to anyone who isn't a Marine. This is a laxative. This is a doohickey or dowackle or skeezix or gobbledygook or twiseasess or zusammenpassen or Nasenbluten or nichtsdestoweniger or Verbindlichkeit. This box contains monkeys. This loudspeaker doesn't work. This fucker has only one eye. This louse lives in his skin. This hope is unconscious. This fortune will be squandered. This time around we have ways of making you talk. This deodorant is unscented. This much is true: the Chinese eat no cheese. This sugar cookie has a toenail in it. This year we try harder. This wanderer knew where to go but not from where. This finger smells funny. This state park toilet facility is home to twelve species of spider. This news does not bode well. This distant relative wrung his hands. This is an attempt to collect a debt. This is your mother. This rash should clear up before Thanksgiving. This coming January shows promise. This time let the clutch out slowly while giving it some gas and don't worry if it hops. This war will get worse before it gets better. This never happened.

WEBLOG: a log with a spider's web on it

First new post in nearly a month. Why are we so goddamn busy? How come each semester has its own bizarre theme? I still don't care one bit for T.S. Eliot or Ezra Pound. I still haven't read "Moby Dick." I would still like to have a standing table constructed. I've blazed through three pads of yellow paper since August and each draft I've written feels incomplete, flawed, gangly, or sideways. I now enjoy W.S. Merwin's poetry. And Charles Baxter's novel "First Light" (it moves backward). I need a secretary.

Liz and I celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary on the 19th.

Things We Never Cease to Wonder at

Two elephants at the Renaissance Fair walked in circles. Children were piled on top, $5 a ride, once around the circuit. The elephants' eyes were deep brown like polished agate, the dense black lashes like shy parasols. The wind had brought autumn. People huddled together, costumes or not. The dandies, a tight group of six or seven, seemed to tolerate the chill. But what did the elephants think of Minnesota? Why would anyone bring elephants here at the end of September. We had bananas in our bag, and an apple that our daughter wouldn't finish. The elephants moved past without much sound aside from their enormous breath. They walked with the patience to be quiet. We gave each of them fruit at the first pass. At the next pass, and the one after, they remembered us with grasping two-fingered trunks, slowing to test the trainer's patience because they can.

Hauslos. Homeless. Without Home. Noplace to Go.

If you stare long enough at someone or something, you begin to sense aspects of that someone or something never before apparent. The homeless. Look past the obvious. Look beyond the stereotypes. Beyond the violence, despair, feelings of intolerance and rejection. Smell them. Smell them as they smell themselves and each other. You are not one of them, but nor are you one of those people who looks down at them, condescends. You are not one of those people who fears the homeless. Why fear them? Have they nothing to lose? Perhaps nothing is all they have. Imagine the things homeless people fear! Each other. Police. Dogs. Rabies. Sickness. The heat, the cold. A freezing night. Being unable to find someplace to sleep. What if one fears to fall asleep because he may not wake up? Do they fear waking up? They must fear each other. A group of them together like any other group divides itself along leadership and subservience lines. Would they fear to accept handouts? Would they be too proud to accept charity? Vain? Are there vain homeless? Selfish or selfless, certainly, but vain? Is vanity ever an effect of homelessness? Who are their folk heroes? Who do they admire? How does American culture influence the homeless and vice versa? How does one earn their respect? How many use drugs, methamphetamine, heroin, crack, pills? How many are drunks? How many pretend for our benefit? How many aren’t homeless, but panhandle professionally?

ecneicsinmO

I've been trying not to think too hard about this lately. Omniscient narration and how it's so difficult to write it. A narrator who knows all seems excessive. Too much information is at my disposal.

An omniscient narrator knows not everything; an omniscient narrator knows from the onset what is not necessary to the narrative. That helps no one, I know. But my approach lately has been to abandon things I don't need for a given story. This is old advice: "Any one setting out to dispute anything ought always to begin by saying what he does not dispute. Beyond stating what he proposes to prove he should always state what he does not propose to prove." (G.K. Chesterton)

In a way I'm working backward. I find it helpful to work backward. Narrative in reverse cannot move without going forward at the same time, otherwise it makes no sense. (See Martin Amis's novel Time's Arrow.) So I begin with an idea for a story, a vague idea that I imagine will move forward in X, Y, or Z manner. At the same time I establish what the story does not need, and the story now cannot move forward in Y or Z manner. The omniscient narrator knows now of something that the story does not need. I feel as though I'm running in a circle with this. Goddammit, I'll make it clear one of these days. It's a bit humbling to lay out my thought process for anyone to read. Oh well. I can see every possible beginning from the single end.

die Liste des Kinos (the List of Movies)

DVD Movie List
the Abyss
the Addams Family
an American Haunting
American History X
the Animal
Army of Darkness
Beavis and Butthead Do America
Big Money Hustlers (Insane Clown Posse)
the Birdcage
Blade I
Blade II
Blade III
Blood In, Blood Out
Borat
Cape Fear
Conan the Barbarian
Conan the Destroyer
the Count of Monte Cristo
the Craft
Creepshow I
Creepshow II
Crybaby
Darkness Falls
Dawn of the Dead
Dazed and Confused
Dead Alive (unrated)
Deuce Bigalow I
Deuce Bigalow II
Doomsday
Eraserhead
Evil Dead
the Exorcism of Emily Rose
the Exorcist
the Exorcist II
the Exorcist III
Fearless Hyena
Final Destination I
Final Destination II
Freeway
From Dusk Till Dawn
From Hell
Gangs of New York
Grandma’s Boy
Great Expectations
Green Street Hooligans
Hairspray (original John Waters version)
Half Baked
Heavy Metal
Heavy Metal 2000
Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
the Hot Chick
House on Haunted Hill (2000)
How High
Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark
Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
Killer Klowns from Outer Space
King Arthur
a Knight’s Tale
the Last Samurai
the Libertine
the Longest Yard
the Lord of the Rings: the Fellowship of the Ring
the Lord of the Rings: the Two Towers
the Lord of the Rings: the Return of the King
Lust in the Dust
Memoirs of a Geisha
Misery
My Crazy Life [Mi Vida Loca]
National Lampoon’s Van Wilder
Natural Born Killers
Night of the Comet
Night of Demons I
Night of Demons III
the Ninth Gate
Pan’s Labyrinth (Spanish w/English Subtitles)
the Phantom of the Opera
Phantoms
the Pick of Destiny (Tenacious D)
Pirates of the Caribbean
Pirates of the Caribbean II
Queen of the Damned
Radio
Red Sonja
Reform School Girls
Resident Evil
Resident Evil: Apocalypse
Resident Evil: Extinction
the Ring (American Version)
the Rules of Attraction
Rundown
Saw
Schindler’s List
School of Rock
Shag
Signs
Silent Hill
Sin City
South Park: the Movie
Star Wars: A New Hope
Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back
Star Wars: Return of the Jedi
Starry Night (Documentary)
Stigmata
Tank Girl
Teen Witch
Thirteen Ghosts
13th Warrior
Troy
28 Days Later
War of the Worlds (2006)
Witchboard

VHS Movie List
a Clockwork Orange
Clueless
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
the Fifth Element
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone
the Mambo Kings
Mysteries of Deep Space (documentary)
Night of Demons II
Pearl Harbor
Shrek I
Shrek II
the Scorpion King
Sorority Boys
Speed
Tears of the Sun
Ticks
Tombstone
Trilogy of Terror II
We Were Soldiers
X-Men II

Children's Movie List
Alice in Wonderland
Cars
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (Tim Burton)
Corpse Bride
Dumbo
Elf
Ever After
Fantasia
Finding Nemo
Flushed Away
James and the Giant Peach
Monster House
the Neverending Story I
the Neverending Story II
the Nightmare Before Christmas

TV and Miscellaneous Collections List
Dollman / Demonic Toys box set
Extra Weird Sampler
Garden of the Dead Zombie collection
Hercules: the Legendary Journeys season I
Hercules: the Legendary Journeys season II
Horror Classics
MXC: Most Extreme Elimination Challenge season I
MXC: Most Extreme Elimination Challenge season II
MXC: Most Extreme Elimination Challenge season III
Scared Stiff: 10 horror movies
South Park: Christmas Time in South Park
South Park season I
South Park season II
South Park season III
South Park: Timmy!
Xena: Warrior Princess season I
Xena: Warrior Princess season II

Concert and Music Videos List
Black Label Society: Boozed, Broozed, & Broken Boned
Cannibal Corpse: Monolith of Death Tour
Creed
Cypress Hill: Still Smokin’
Disturbed: M.O.L.
Fear Factory: Digital Connectivity (VHS)
In Flames: Used and Abused
Insane Clown Posse: Bootlegged in L.A.
Insnae Clown Posse: Shockumentary (VHS)
Insane Clown Posse: Wicked Wonka Tour
Korn Live
Motorhead: 25 & Alive
Nailbomb: Live at Dynamo
Pink Floyd: The Wall
Rammstein: Lichtspielhaus
Rammstein: Völkerball (Live in Paris)
Sepultura: Third World Chaos (VHS)
Slipknot: Disasterpieces
Soulfly: Conquer
Strapping Young Lad: For Those About to Rock

There's a Reason for Everything

Around 2:15 last night, a pair of low-grade fucknuggets walked up and down our street smashing windows out of certain cars that had the ill fortune of being parked along the curb. As I suggest in the title . . . but wait, what reasons are there behind this act? What reasons that the neighbors can understand and perhaps sympathize with? Who--besides maybe a 19th-century lawyer trained in rhetoric and public address--could narrate this tale of hooliganism with enough empathy and caring and respect to make us, the startled neighbors, understand the hooligans' motives?

I'm not up to that challenge. The bastards woke me up.

Boomerang Books

After a long wait, I have confirmed the validity of Richard Ford's autograph in my copy of Rock Springs. He seemed quite pleased that his autograph boomerang back to him. Next I'll have to get Roger to re-autograph my copy of Lost River. Then I'll track down Tim O'Brien and have him re-autograph my copy of The Things They Carried. After that, Barry Hannah can re-autograph Geronimo Rex, if he's not too crabby.

Liz said that it must be one of the most satisfying feelings an author can have, seeing one's own book many years later. To know that individual people are still reading your work. I agree. Sure, sales numbers or Amazon rankings can tell a writer that people are buying his books, but in a detached way, a commodified way, an impersonal and distant way. Mr. Ford asked me where I found Rock Springs. I said, "At a thrift shop in North Mankato. I paid a dollar for it." He smiled and chuckled at that, and said, "Well, I'm glad the book's not languishing somewhere."

Morning Unliveliness and a Chance Encounter with an Arachnid

Why does getting older come with diminished capacity to wake up in the morning? I don't suffer from "bright-eyed bushy-tailed" syndrome like I once did. A good shower will take care of this problem. Yesterday I saw Al Franken walk through the Student Union. In person, he looks like . . . Al Franken. He's that guy I watched on "Saturday Night Live" when I was a kid: "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me." That guy. Richard Ford today. I plan to have autograph the copy of Rock Springs that he already autographed some time in the distant past. As soon as events set in motion that cannot be undone (shower, take a shot, eat). Yes that was a sentence fragment. A few minutes ago a wolf spider got tangled in the hair on my back. The legs tickled. Was the spider mountaineering on my office chair? Or did the spider fall from the ceiling with the misfortune of landing in the jungle? I have no problem with wolf spiders living in my office. I'm rather fond of them. But if it had been one of those goddamn Minnesota centipedes that look like a mustache, I would be wide awake at this point.

Alcohol Swabs and AAA Batteries

Who has ever noticed how STRESS and STRETCH are etymologically interchangeable? Time for breakfast. Dark bread PB&J with coffee. Furthermore, something unrelated to each previous sentence: Everyone should read William Maxwell's 1948 novel Time Will Darken It. If I didn't know any better I'd say the book is alive. Last night I read the first 108 pages in one sitting and had to force myself to go to bed. Time Will Darken It is going on my list of books that I cannot even begin to describe in a way that does justice to their beauty.

I will attempt to subject everyone I know to this movie

If you have never seen this movie, see this movie. If gory, gory movies make you queasy, maybe you should not see this movie. If you love comedies, you should see this movie. If you like stories wherein repressed family psychodrama explodes all over the screen, definitely see this movie. If you don't want to take my word for it, ask Matt Weertz. He has seen this movie. I have seen this movie about 50 times and I never get tired of it. It is one of Peter Jackson's finest works.

What the hell are you reading?

I am currently reading:

John McPhee's Irons in the Fire.
Vladimir Nabokov's Transparent Things.
William Maxwell's So Long, See You Tomorrow.

A few days ago I started and finished Martin Amis' House of Meetings.

I had better do the reading for contemporary poetry, too.