Wow--I got a chance to see David Mills read some of his work yesterday at events in Philadelphia. It was a blast. Mills's work is engaging, full of energy, honest directness, compassion, and stunning imagery. One of his short poems even had a story that was mythical in its dimensions--amazing stuff. And, it's time to be honest with ourselves, it's not every writer who knows how to hold a live audience. Mills has extensive training as an actor, and he understands the difference between performance poetry and being able to perform poetry. His latest book is The Dream Detective. Fun stuff.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Messages from the Future!
Many of us have this feeling that the way we experience time is not the way time actually exists. And now here's an experiment--two actually--that have produced some almost sci-fi (or is that psy-fi?) results about time-traveling information. Here's more from Radiolab's Robert Krulwich.
Weird, huh? Well, I can't let this go untested, can I?
Every morning I talk to myself about the previous day, or I should say that I talk to my yesterday morning-self. My past self has a heads-up and an encouraging message about the day ahead. My present self is upbeat and, at some level, prepared for what will happen during the day about to unfold. And, my future self is getting out of bed and leaving me a message.
I do not believe that I am crazy.
Weird, huh? Well, I can't let this go untested, can I?
Every morning I talk to myself about the previous day, or I should say that I talk to my yesterday morning-self. My past self has a heads-up and an encouraging message about the day ahead. My present self is upbeat and, at some level, prepared for what will happen during the day about to unfold. And, my future self is getting out of bed and leaving me a message.
I do not believe that I am crazy.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Things You Need to Write
Freeman tells you what you need to write a play. It has an uncanny resemblance to what one needs to write poetry.
The Eagles 2010 Season Comes to a Close
Yes, I care. Sue me. This season--where, back in September everyone called this season a "rebuilding year," where the fans believed that the team wouldn't do more than have a few more wins than losses, where (in the pre-season) the team saw its best quarterback move to a rival team and then lost to that rival and then whupped that rival, where the team relied on a third string ex-con quarterback who took more punishment week after week than a boy at a British boarding school to keep winning game after game and place the team as NFC East Champs--was one of the greatest narratives in Eagles season history. Now it's over. My dreams of an all-Pennsylvania Superbowl fade yet again.
And yes, it ended in a familiar way. The team wasn't crushed by a superior defense. A superior opponent didn't take the team down. In the last minute of the game, our quarterback threw an interception instead of a game-winning touchdown. It's called choking. Like sometimes happens at wedding receptions--you know, weddings. Where there are bridesmaids. Bridesmaids who feel like they will always be bridesmaids, never...
And yes, it ended in a familiar way. The team wasn't crushed by a superior defense. A superior opponent didn't take the team down. In the last minute of the game, our quarterback threw an interception instead of a game-winning touchdown. It's called choking. Like sometimes happens at wedding receptions--you know, weddings. Where there are bridesmaids. Bridesmaids who feel like they will always be bridesmaids, never...
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
My Phone Company Rocks
I've been with a phone company known as Working Assets for about 10 years now. I love them and I want to praise them. Working Assets is a phone company with progressive values. Back in 2000, when many companies were still on the fence about same-sex domestic partner benefits, Working Assets was fully committed to the practice. Fast forward to this past year: Working Assets donated over two million dollars to progressive charities.
It boils down to this: I love the fact that my phone company takes an active role in fighting for what I believe in. Unlike AT&T and Verizon, Working Assets does not donate money to politicians who are pro-war, anti-environment, anti-pro-choice, anti-universal health care. Working Assets prints their bills on recycled paper using soy-based ink. Yes.
Some details about the structure: Working Assets does long distance, but the mobile phone service part of its business is known as CREDO. There's also a credit card arm, and there's an arm known as the action network (a blog, facebook page, etc.).
Some details about the charitable giving: In addition to the money regularly donated by this corporation, whenever one pays a bill from Working Asetts or CREDO he or she can choose to round-up the payment to the nearest dollar, five-dollar, or ten dollar mark. That portion will be donated to a charity pool. At the end of the year, all working Assets customers vote on where the money in that pool goes. It's fun.
It feels good to crow about this company. Working Assets is not afraid to inform, write letters, and organize petition drives. The company has a commitment to democracy that's invigorating. If corporations have even more power these days, this is a corporation using its power for good causes. This is a corporation I can do business with.
It boils down to this: I love the fact that my phone company takes an active role in fighting for what I believe in. Unlike AT&T and Verizon, Working Assets does not donate money to politicians who are pro-war, anti-environment, anti-pro-choice, anti-universal health care. Working Assets prints their bills on recycled paper using soy-based ink. Yes.
Some details about the structure: Working Assets does long distance, but the mobile phone service part of its business is known as CREDO. There's also a credit card arm, and there's an arm known as the action network (a blog, facebook page, etc.).
Some details about the charitable giving: In addition to the money regularly donated by this corporation, whenever one pays a bill from Working Asetts or CREDO he or she can choose to round-up the payment to the nearest dollar, five-dollar, or ten dollar mark. That portion will be donated to a charity pool. At the end of the year, all working Assets customers vote on where the money in that pool goes. It's fun.
It feels good to crow about this company. Working Assets is not afraid to inform, write letters, and organize petition drives. The company has a commitment to democracy that's invigorating. If corporations have even more power these days, this is a corporation using its power for good causes. This is a corporation I can do business with.
Borders
Yes, I'm discussing the store that sells books. In 2009, when the company was going through a quite a bit of re-organizing, there was also a change in the atmosphere of selling at the store. I can only speak of the three Borders that I frequented, but it honestly seemed more important for booksellers to be friendly and pushy than to be knowledgeable. New faces appeared to sell me things, but their knowledge of genres and authors wasn't so hot. It was sad. Book retailing is just a difficult business, and it seemed like these were the death throws of a company--and a way of buying books.
2010, I am happy to say, brought a different atmosphere. The stores I frequent are no longer just pushing merchandise. There are booksellers, and they are selling books. It reminds me of a story heard on Marketplace a few weeks back that reported on businesses returning to old-fashioned customer service. While retail has had, and (with the death of wages tied to commission) will continue to have, those who are simply "point of sale transaction administrators," many businesses are returning to old-fashioned sales techniques to retain (and gain) customers. That is, knowing your wares, knowing your customers, and connecting your customers to what they want (or didn't know they wanted). Kudos to Borders for recognizing that the store had lost its way, and for returning to what matters.
I still purchase many books online, but if I'm just browsing, my local Borders stores have returned to a way of selling books that I thought was going to disappear.
2010, I am happy to say, brought a different atmosphere. The stores I frequent are no longer just pushing merchandise. There are booksellers, and they are selling books. It reminds me of a story heard on Marketplace a few weeks back that reported on businesses returning to old-fashioned customer service. While retail has had, and (with the death of wages tied to commission) will continue to have, those who are simply "point of sale transaction administrators," many businesses are returning to old-fashioned sales techniques to retain (and gain) customers. That is, knowing your wares, knowing your customers, and connecting your customers to what they want (or didn't know they wanted). Kudos to Borders for recognizing that the store had lost its way, and for returning to what matters.
I still purchase many books online, but if I'm just browsing, my local Borders stores have returned to a way of selling books that I thought was going to disappear.
Thinking About Corporations
With the new 2011 congress chocked full of of Republicans determined to slash spending on government programs that control, to some degree, the massive amount of power corporations already possess, and with year-end retrospectives focusing on the Supreme Court's decision to allow corporations the right to donate to politicians as human beings might, I thought it time to get around to two posts on corporations that I've been meaning to write for a while. Stay tuned.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Writing with Another Writer
I was about to title this "workshopping vs. writing," but I felt the dichotomy rang false. These aren't two activities pitted against one another. They are both important--even to the seasoned writer. Established writers maintain long-distance correspondence with trusted readers for years. Perhaps what I actually want to discuss here is this: the benefit of writers getting together simply to be writing in the same space.
I have a short attention span, well, short-ish. I can be intensely focused, but I am easily distracted. However, when I write in the presence of someone else who is writing, I can focus for the better part of an hour (if not two or more). I have a few fond memories of this. The first, in high school: my friend and I used to sequester ourselves in his bedroom for hours to listen to music and write plays, poems, and whatever else interested us. In college (and I may be mis-remembering this a bit) I wrote once or twice with a girlfriend in the living room of her ground-floor apartment. In grad school I spent a whole evening in the sitting room of my fancy, turn-of-the-century apartment (a story for some other post) scribbling away with my roommate and a classmate. And, during the past year, on several afternoons, my workshopping buddies and I met at the Bean Exchange in Philly--not to discuss work--just to churn it out. So, please forgive the nostalgia. As I arrange a collaborative writing session with some writers I know, I have been thinking a lot about "writing with others."
Have you--oh my often ignored, but dedicated readers--written in the presence of others who are writing? Would you share an anecdote or two? Or, have you worked on a piece, collaboratively--in the same space--one writer's hands on the keyboard/paper, the other writer speaking? I don't think I'm romanticizing the value of this practice. While this practice may be more helpful for extroverted writers like myself, there must be benefits to any writer. No?
I have a short attention span, well, short-ish. I can be intensely focused, but I am easily distracted. However, when I write in the presence of someone else who is writing, I can focus for the better part of an hour (if not two or more). I have a few fond memories of this. The first, in high school: my friend and I used to sequester ourselves in his bedroom for hours to listen to music and write plays, poems, and whatever else interested us. In college (and I may be mis-remembering this a bit) I wrote once or twice with a girlfriend in the living room of her ground-floor apartment. In grad school I spent a whole evening in the sitting room of my fancy, turn-of-the-century apartment (a story for some other post) scribbling away with my roommate and a classmate. And, during the past year, on several afternoons, my workshopping buddies and I met at the Bean Exchange in Philly--not to discuss work--just to churn it out. So, please forgive the nostalgia. As I arrange a collaborative writing session with some writers I know, I have been thinking a lot about "writing with others."
Have you--oh my often ignored, but dedicated readers--written in the presence of others who are writing? Would you share an anecdote or two? Or, have you worked on a piece, collaboratively--in the same space--one writer's hands on the keyboard/paper, the other writer speaking? I don't think I'm romanticizing the value of this practice. While this practice may be more helpful for extroverted writers like myself, there must be benefits to any writer. No?
Monday, December 6, 2010
Custom made furniture by Craftwork in Philadelphia
I am using this post to celebrate Jayme Goukas and his woodworking abilities. Here's the story.
When my wife and I moved into our house a few months back we had a difficult time finding a simple corner television stand for our living room. Our place was built in the 40s, and although it's a three bedroom place, all of the rooms are sized for a simpler time--a time when we knew what was enough. Today's furniture is designed for humongous rooms. We searched and searched. In those rare cases when we did find a piece that was sized right, it was usually made of cancer-causing mdf, or it just looked like hell. I knew we had to get something custom-made.
At the recommendation of my brilliant brother, I contacted Jayme Goukas of Craftwork. A few emails went back-and-forth, and five weeks later a custom television cabinet was delivered. Yes, it was slightly more expensive than most (but not all) pieces we saw online or in-store, but it was worth it. I paid what I thought was a very fair price for expert craftsmanship, good materials, timely service, and a piece that exceeded my expectations for that pesky corner of my living room. In short, thanks to Goukas, I'm not sure I will ever buy a piece of store bought furniture again.
Okay, I'm afraid I might start sounding like a bourgeois prick. In short:
Custom-made stuff rocks.
Support local or regional artisans.
And when it comes to furniture or kitchens, make that artisan Jayme Goukas.
Oh, and yes, thanks for asking, the Superbowl and Oscars are at my house this year.
When my wife and I moved into our house a few months back we had a difficult time finding a simple corner television stand for our living room. Our place was built in the 40s, and although it's a three bedroom place, all of the rooms are sized for a simpler time--a time when we knew what was enough. Today's furniture is designed for humongous rooms. We searched and searched. In those rare cases when we did find a piece that was sized right, it was usually made of cancer-causing mdf, or it just looked like hell. I knew we had to get something custom-made.
At the recommendation of my brilliant brother, I contacted Jayme Goukas of Craftwork. A few emails went back-and-forth, and five weeks later a custom television cabinet was delivered. Yes, it was slightly more expensive than most (but not all) pieces we saw online or in-store, but it was worth it. I paid what I thought was a very fair price for expert craftsmanship, good materials, timely service, and a piece that exceeded my expectations for that pesky corner of my living room. In short, thanks to Goukas, I'm not sure I will ever buy a piece of store bought furniture again.
Okay, I'm afraid I might start sounding like a bourgeois prick. In short:
Custom-made stuff rocks.
Support local or regional artisans.
And when it comes to furniture or kitchens, make that artisan Jayme Goukas.
Oh, and yes, thanks for asking, the Superbowl and Oscars are at my house this year.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Lewis Lapham Explains the Essay
God, I love this man. Last month, Harper's said goodbye to the "Notebook" section of the magazine. Lapham wrote a farewell to the section and used that farewell to explain the power, and the beauty, and the importance of the essay as a form. "Figures of Speech" is a magnificent essay, and I thought I would share these insightful words that appear just after Lapham's opening paragraphs.
The names [of great essayists listed in a preceding paragraph] are representative, meant to suggest the range of expression and the wealth of possibility that I rope into a notion of the essay borrowed from Michel de Montaigne. The sixteenth-century French autobiographer, a contemporary of Shakespeare and Cervantes, derived the approach to his topics from the meaning of the word essai, from essayer (to try, to embark upon, to attempt), asking himself at the outset of his reflections, whether on cannibals or the custom of wearing clothes, “What do I know?” The question distinguishes the essay from the less adventurous forms of expository prose—the dissertation, the polemic, the article, the campaign speech, the tract, the op-ed, the arrest warrant, the hotel bill. Writers determined to render a judgment or swing an election, to cast a moneylender out of a temple or deliver a message to Garcia, begin the first paragraph knowing how, when, where, and why they intend to claim the privilege of the last word. Not so the essayist, even if what he or she is writing purports to be a history or a field report. Like Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, the essayist lights out for the territories, never sure of the next sentence until the words show up on the page. (Lewis Lapham. Harpers. Nov. 2010. Page 9.)
This is just one of several beautiful insights Lapham has into essay writing. The problem is folks, I just can't simply copy the whole article in here. To read the rest of this online--to see what I mean by beautiful insights--go to Harper's website and subscribe. Seriously. Do it. I continue to believe that the best nonfiction writing in America is published in this magazine. God bless you, New Yorker and Atlantic Monthly, for doing what you do, but I need Harper's for its investigative journalism and its wisdom on the the intersection of America and the English language. One last note: I would like to think that Lapham's claims are the mark of all great writing. Need it be said? Yes. Great writing "lights out for the territories." Great writing seeks to discover.
The names [of great essayists listed in a preceding paragraph] are representative, meant to suggest the range of expression and the wealth of possibility that I rope into a notion of the essay borrowed from Michel de Montaigne. The sixteenth-century French autobiographer, a contemporary of Shakespeare and Cervantes, derived the approach to his topics from the meaning of the word essai, from essayer (to try, to embark upon, to attempt), asking himself at the outset of his reflections, whether on cannibals or the custom of wearing clothes, “What do I know?” The question distinguishes the essay from the less adventurous forms of expository prose—the dissertation, the polemic, the article, the campaign speech, the tract, the op-ed, the arrest warrant, the hotel bill. Writers determined to render a judgment or swing an election, to cast a moneylender out of a temple or deliver a message to Garcia, begin the first paragraph knowing how, when, where, and why they intend to claim the privilege of the last word. Not so the essayist, even if what he or she is writing purports to be a history or a field report. Like Twain’s Huckleberry Finn, the essayist lights out for the territories, never sure of the next sentence until the words show up on the page. (Lewis Lapham. Harpers. Nov. 2010. Page 9.)
This is just one of several beautiful insights Lapham has into essay writing. The problem is folks, I just can't simply copy the whole article in here. To read the rest of this online--to see what I mean by beautiful insights--go to Harper's website and subscribe. Seriously. Do it. I continue to believe that the best nonfiction writing in America is published in this magazine. God bless you, New Yorker and Atlantic Monthly, for doing what you do, but I need Harper's for its investigative journalism and its wisdom on the the intersection of America and the English language. One last note: I would like to think that Lapham's claims are the mark of all great writing. Need it be said? Yes. Great writing "lights out for the territories." Great writing seeks to discover.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Not Dead Yet
As the six or seven of you who read my blog know already, I am still alive. I am reading, watching, writing, and thinking--I just haven't really had the time to post like I used to. One thing, though: Tina Fey won the Mark Twain prize for American Humor. PBS broadcast the award show on Sunday night. I've been watching this award show almost since it began, and this year is tied with Carlin's year for my favorite. Fey is stellar. The show featured my favorite work of hers over the years--the sketches I never forgot. And, while not technically a roast, her friends delivered some good laughs. Betty White had some decent zingers. Carell and Baldwin had the funniest segments (although, it was funny to see the audience shocked and confused by Krakowski's "Muffin Top" number). Cheers to Fey. The whole episode is here. Baldwin's Twain is here. Fey's magnificent, sharp, and funny acceptance speech is here--Palin jokes and all.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
A recommendation...
The Radioactive Boy Scout. Damn, Ken Silverstein can craft narrative incredibly well. He's been writing for Harper's Magazine for a while, and this 2005 paperback shows why. In fact, my first encounter with this story was in one of the first issues of Harper's Magazine that I ever read--he expanded a 1998 article on boy scout David Hahn's misguided nuclear pursuits (peaceful ones) into an enthralling book. What I like about Silverstein's narratives (the ones that have appeared in Harper's over the years) is how clever they are at maintaining speed (even suspense) as he weaves in larger social, cultural, economic, and psychological forces affecting his subjects (and us). The same holds true for The Radioactive Boy Scout: as we are engrossed in the story of David Hahn's pursuit of a scaled-down model of a nuclear reactor in his shed (by the way, he got so close the EPA showed up to remove the radioactive materials), we see how there weren't enough forces to steer David in the right direction, and too many forces encouraging him in the wrong direction.
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