I like Ike!

They’re doing something right in that country, eh?  This past week, I finished a piece for The Writer on magazines that specialize in articles on current events and cultural issues, and I discovered one exciting Canadian publication, and renewed my relationship with another that published some of my essays a few years back.

Broken Pencil

Zines are alive and well, according to the editors at Broken Pencil.  Researching their publication, I recalled my teenage stint as a freelance writer for The Loon News, a long-running comic zine published out of Phoenix, Arizona.  (God forbid any of the articles I wrote actually surface—I do believe they were fairly naughty.)  Zines, for those not in the know, are independently published magazines that attract attention for their innovative, edgy content and design.  Powell’s Books in Portland has a shelf devoted to them (back of the magazine stacks, bottom shelves, last time I looked).  Editors at Broken Pencil publish news, reviews, and retrospectives on alternative and zine culture.  Check them out!

Adbusters

What a privilege to talk with Kalle Lasn, editor at Adbusters Magazine (published out of Vancouver, B.C.), about his plans for an upcoming double issue that supports the Occupy Movement—which he and his staff helped to found–with social and political commentary on economic issues.  Kalle’s the kind of person who, in a 20-minute conversation, leaves you feeling a little more hopeful, a little more energized than you were before you phoned.

I hung up and thought about what type of essay I might contribute to his next issue.  In the past, Adbusters published my humorous critique of the University of Oregon’s MFA in Photography program, and one of my short essays, “Art and Insanity,” inspired after I watched the Andy Goldsworthy documentary, Rivers and Tides, and then walked past some pretty incredible stone towers created by a homeless man on Ventura Beach . . . art which the city bulldozed the next day.

The pieces aren’t on the web anymore, but here are a couple of my lines from “Art and Insanity”:

“There’s a fine line between art and insanity. Could it be that the difference between divine inspiration and toppled rock towers on an abandoned beach lies in who can afford to have his teeth fixed? Perhaps the distinction between a person who inspires public support and one who crumbles under public condemnation is even simpler. One is an artist who makes transient images. The other is a transient who makes art.”

Great health care?  Little college debt?  Zines?  Economic revolution?  Kind-hearted babysitters?

O, Canada!

Back in Oregon, I would’ve shut myself in our backyard studio for a couple of hours, read and revised the piece, then sent it off to editors.  But we’re still in Costa Rica, sharing a one-bedroom condo in a complex full of neighbors who potluck on the central patio and have long loud political conversations as their cigarette smoke drifts upward to where I hunch over my laptop with the sun beating down, trying to concentrate on a sentence at a time while my husband generously makes movies of Wizard of Oz action figures with our daughter down in the living room.

How is it possible to write in the midst of chaos?  Some people simply can’t do it.  I have a friend who waits for that magic moment when her house is empty, and then she puts the cat out, turns off the radio and TV, sits down at the desk and invokes her muse.  As a travel writer and the mother of a young child, I seldom enjoy such a luxury.  Like other professional parent-writers, I write at odd hours–five AM, 11 PM–and in weird places, scribbling in a notebook outside the preschool, or keyboarding frantically during a couple of “Tumblebooks“.

To avoid "Monkey-Mind," write in a public place.

Though the previous paragraphs may sound like it, I’m not really complaining.  In her book, Writing Down the Bones, Natalie Goldberg inspired a whole generation of emerging wordsmiths to write in coffeehouses and bakeries, suggesting that background noise gives one part of the mind (the “monkey-mind” part) something to focus on so that the  creative part can get to work.  Though I used to be a solitary writer who needed absolute silence to work, I find now that I’m less lonely, and less tempted to surf the Web and check Facebook, when there’s a lot going on around me as I’m writing.

These days, I tell my coaching clients who feel daunted by the task of writing a short essay or article to take themselves to their favorite coffeehouse with a notebook and pen (I know, old school).  I ask them to order their signature drink, and–in homage to Natalie–a chocolate chip cookie, then to sit down in a booth and stay there until the rough draft of the piece is done.  More likely than not, the cappuccino machine’s whine begins to fade, the singular chatter of customers blends into a quiet rumble, and the music over the loudspeakers disappears.  The writing takes over.

On those days full of grace, I stumble out of the coffee house, just as I emerged yesterday from the Costa Rican terrace, blinking and rubbing my eyes and murmuring–like Fred Willard in A Mighty Wind–”Wha’ happened?”

Dude, you just wrote a rough draft in an hour.

What happens is that you honor what is, be it children or dogs or a business meeting at the table next to you or a parrot singing Spanish opera from its cage (no kidding) and you never let it stop you from writing.

And something else–internal chaos isn’t a reason to throw down the pen, either.  I penned some of my funniest essays in the midst of my beloved grandmother’s illness and death of cancer.  I wrote my memoir, Gringa, while I despaired over the two and a half year wait to adopt my daughter.  Regardless of what misfortune has befallen us, we find solace in opening the notebook and getting to work.

Readers, what does your particular chaos look like and sound like? How do you write in the midst of it?  Feel free to comment below.

I hope this finds you well!  As I’m still in Costa Rica, and dividing my time between writing, coaching other writers from a distance, and homeschooling Maia, in lieu of a new post I’m offering you a holiday excerpt from my memoir, Gringa: A Contradictory Girlhood, along with a link to a wonderful recipe for holiday tamales. 

Happy holidays, and best wishes for an eloquent and productive new year!

–Melissa

Gringa for the Kindle? Hey, makes a great holiday gift!

From the chapter “O, Christmas Tree,” from Gringa

Red-and-green streamers twisted across the vast room. At one end stood a 20-foot buffet table, its red plastic tablecloth crowded with platters and Crock-Pots and bowls. At the other end, dozens of people circled a man who strummed a nylon-stringed guitar.

“Oh, Jesus,” Tony muttered. “Cousin Chico’s playing ‘De Colores.’”

“What’s ‘De Colores’?” I whispered.

“Some Mexican traditional crap.”

“I’ve gotta learn it!” From where I stood, I saw sheet music making the rounds. But my platter stymied me. The cheddar cheese, which had previously oozed from golden flour tortillas, now congealed into shiny orange rubber.

“Tony!” A flock of middle-aged women caught sight of my boyfriend and rushed over. “We haven’t seen you in years. Who’s this?”

Their eyes widened at me. I looked back at the women in their knitted reindeer and snowman sweaters, their brightly colored earrings shaped like Christmas-tree light bulbs, and shook hands all around.

“¡Hola!” I cried. “¡Buenos días! ¡Con mucho gusto!”

“It’s nice to meet you too, honey.” Tony’s four-foot-nine mother patted my hand and peered up into my face. “I don’t know why you put up with my son, but we’re glad you could be here.”

“Nice to see you too, Mom.” Tony stalked across the hall to join a group of men gathered like elk around the watering hole of a giant silver keg.

The other women regarded me warily. “So how long have you been dating Tony?” one asked.

“Where’s your family?” questioned another.

“A year,” I replied to the first woman. The second question I let go, unsure of the reception my mother and her girlfriend, my disabled brother, and my oversexed great-grandmother might receive from this crowd.

“So you’re Tony’s homegirl.” A man walked up to me, looking like an older version of my boyfriend with his red eyes and lopsided smile. I recognized him from the framed photo in his parents’ trailer. He shook my hand and grinned down at my wrist peeking out from under my buttoned black sleeve. “Damn, chica. You’re white.”

The men trailing him erupted with laughter. The women hid smiles behind genteel hands. Red-faced, I focused on the man’s T-shirt. It read, I’M THE REASON SANTA HAS A NAUGHTY LIST.

“No offense.” The guy socked me in the shoulder. “I’m Tony’s big brother.”

The laughter trickled off as a tall young woman walked up. “I’m Laura.” She shoved the man out of the way. “It’s good to meet you.” She took the platter from my hands. “These look delicious. Let’s put them on the buffet.”

I followed her through a throng of family members, who parted respectfully. Laura wore snug Gloria Vanderbilt jeans and a knit sweater in a blue-and-white snowflake pattern. Her light-brown hair fell across her shoulders in a gentle, perfumed perm. None of this by itself struck me as remarkable. But as she set my platter between dishes of homemade enchiladas and tamales, I stared at her.

Laura was white.

“Are you . . . are you a member of the family?” I stammered.

She rolled her eyes and nodded at Tony’s brother across the room. “That tonto’s my boyfriend for the last 10 years.”

She lifted a framed photo of a sober, fat-faced woman from an overturned ramekin in the center of a 9-by-13-inch pan of tamales. “Welcome to the Nana Canché clan. Nana died five years ago, but ay dios, her spirit lives on. Her favorite food was tamales.” Laura lowered her voice. “Better learn to make ’em in a hurry.”

Yeah, mine are never that neat, either.

I peered into Nana Canché’s grim eyes and vowed to be worthy of her family. All that afternoon, I watched Laura as an anthropologist might study a particularly self-assured native. Her skin was as pale as mine, her foundation at least a shade lighter, and yet she chatted with Tony’s elderly uncle in flawless Spanish and copied a recipe for what I learned was her famed chicken mole onto a napkin for one of the aunts. She leaned in close to the woman, who listened intently. “The secret’s in buying the best dark chocolate you can afford,” she revealed.

“Do Laura and your son have children?” I asked Tony’s mother as she heaped food onto my plate.

“They’ve got two little boys.” She pointed at a couple of youngsters who’d shed their coats and were busy covering mouths and starched white shirts with taquitos in red sauce.

No more information forthcoming from Tony’s mother, I plied his aunts and girl cousins with questions about Laura. I learned that the women gathered at her house each Christmas Eve to make roast-beef tamales because she knew which panaderías sold the fluffiest masa and where to find the widest corn husks.

“She can down a Tecate in less than a minute.” Tony’s sister gazed at Laura with admiration. “And she knows the words to every Santana song.”

That afternoon, Laura became my role model and my nemesis. She’d bushwhacked her way through the jungle of her own unfortunate ethnicity and emerged into cultural clarity. I wanted to be just like her.

After the reunion, we washed dishes in the kitchen and put away leftovers. My Tortilla Flats had plastered themselves to my platter. Laura chipped them off with a spatula and moved toward the garbage can, then caught my eye. “Hey, mind if I wrap these up for my boys?” she asked. “They’ll love them for lunch with guacamole.”

Related recipe: Roast-Beef Tamales–note that vegetarians can make these with green chilies and cheese!

And so I’ve packed up and moved to Costa Rica for several months.  Lest that sound cavalier, Jonathan and I have been working toward this leave of absence from our regular lives since last March.  We’re continuing our work remotely while we’re here, and living on a pretty tight budget with our daughter, but the change of scenery after only a week is invigorating . . . and terrifying.

Horse and Razor Wire

One of my heroes, Ralph Waldo Emerson, wrote, “Always do what you’re afraid to do.”  Easier said than done in my sweet little suburban town, but here in Costa Rica, even a trip to the bank or roadside fruit stand becomes unnerving.  How, in my limited Spanish, do I deposit the rent into our landlord’s account when I’m still struggling to convert dollars into colones beside a uniformed guard toting a gun?  And how do I juggle ten pounds of fresh produce in a tiny dirt-floor market, navigating a couple of dogs and a couple of toddlers while I attempt to pay and bag the stuff and not spear myself with my pineapple?  What do I do if I run across the tarantulas that apparently live in the condo complex with us, and what if the ancient Ford Bronco loaned to us by our landlord breaks down on the side of a country road stranding my brave little family under a monkey-filled tree?

Emerson would likely tell me to immerse myself in each experience, soaking up sensory details, and then get the stories down on paper.  And he’s right.  Getting out of our comfort zone forces creativity, and demands that we live in the present, engaged with the world.

It’s the holiday season, and most of us will be traveling somewhere which provides us with rich opportunities to vacate our comfort zone.  Looking for something bizarre to see and do while you’re back in your childhood town?  Check out Atlas Obscura, where I once found a museum devoted to a collection of sticks–each shaped like a letter of the alphabet.  (Okay, so the sticks weren’t scary, but just plain weird.)  Search on A Day’s Outing, which clues you in to festivals and hikes and historical places.  And for heaven’s sake, look at the “Activities” section of Craigslist, where you’ll find all sorts of weird events.

Staying home this year?   Go to your local mall and visit Santa Claus.  Immerse yourself in observation.  Eat a candy cane.  Sing along with “Jingle Bells.”  (Okay, maybe don’t sit on the big guy’s lap, but you get the idea.)  Remember that David Sedaris launched his career with his story of working the Santa line, in “SantaLand Diaries,” and discover what personal spin you can put the experience.

Costa Rican House

Far away from your schedule and your comfort zone, what happens to your writing?  If you let it, it pirouettes off the page, gathering energy from fear and excitement and offering the gift of a fresh new perspective to readers.  Where do you go to get out of your comfort zone, and how does it affect your writing?  Feel free to comment below!

Her newest book is The Writer’s Workout, 366 Tips, Tasks & Techniques From Your Writing Career Coach (Writer’s Digest, 2011).  For years, I searched for one book to offer my students—a book that would walk them with kindness and respect through the maze of learning to live as a working writer.  The Writer’s Workout is that book.

Christina kindly agreed to write a guest post for my blog.  Enjoy!

Embrace The Reasons You Write

There are hundreds—maybe thousands—of reasons to write. Therefore this list only scratches the surface.

Whatever motivates you to write is important on good writing days and bad writing days.

I used to think I wrote for only one reason on this list. Come to find out, I write for almost every reason on this list and probably more I have yet to uncover.

So don’t feel like you have to wax poetic about why you write, or make it sound really noble, or try to justify why you write. Some people like to write. This is just the way it is, like some people like to paint or sing or act.

But it’s a good idea to know why you write, for your own benefit. Understanding your motivations can be powerful. If you know why you write, you can call on that power if you hit a snag or stall out.

Check off all the reasons that suit you. Expand on the list, if you like.

Why do you write? The truth. Mark the ways:

__ To express

__ To tell

Christina Katz

__ To heal

__ To listen

__ To share

__ To connect

__ To respond

__ To participate

__ To inspire

__ To explore

__ To grow

__ To discover

__ To transcend

__ To play

__ To report

__ To inform

__ To persuade

__ To rant

__ To ramble

__ To advocate

__ To individuate

__ To leave a legacy

__ To become known

__ For love

__ Because you can’t not write

__ For pleasure

__ For revenge

__ To avoid housework

__ To make money

__ To create tax write-offs

__ To establish a career

__ To remember

__ To meditate

__ To process

__ To stop the voices in your head

__ To channel your ideas

__ More:

__ More:

__ More:

Cultivate A Body of Work

You won’t get a big payoff as a writer until you accumulate a body of work. So instead of imagining some future greatness, imagine the kinds of results that are going to get you there: the books read, the piles of paper collected, the journals filled up, the boxes of notes poured over, the tax forms you submitted to report the money you made, the ephemera, the personal notes from people you met, the photographs of happy meetings, the conference lanyards dangling from a hook.

A writer’s progress is measured in the completion of project after project. If you are experiencing serial rejection, are you sure you are not aiming for targets that are over your head?

Embarking on a short-term goal and taking care of the next steps is the best way to nurture your brightest future. Writers sometimes think if they are not entertaining some larger-than-life vision of their writing career they are not doing something right.

But you have no idea what you are going to be writing in twelve years, so how are you supposed to get started on it? Don’t obsess so much about some huge future fantasy and miss the power of this moment. A writer’s day-to-day existence is composed of a million right-now moments.

When we focus too much on an image of where we think we are going, we miss out on the opportunities right in front of us. We don’t learn what we need to learn to get from where we are to the next level. We cut off the legs that are going to walk us to where we could be in twelve years when we try to leap there prematurely.

Embrace the idea that what writers do over the course of a lifetime is cultivate a body of work one project at a time. Writers write, one day at a time, toward a destination that will eventually become something that can be viewed retrospectively but typically cannot be perceived in advance.

Create the artifacts of a well-written life. Set one short-term goal you can accomplish this week, and start walking bravely toward it. Forget the future; leave behind evidence that you hit your short-term goal this week instead.

Create Results

Creativity is powerful. It can grow from something small into something very big. But don’t be in a big rush to get there. Don’t try to skip steps. Don’t constantly try to be ahead of wherever you actually are.

If you get in your writing process and stay in your writing process, you will grow creatively. If you are willing to learn from your mistakes, you can become a more empowered person by learning from the ways you fail or flail.

But if you are constantly off and running, chasing down the latest “how to get rich writing info product,” your head is going to constantly swim and your creativity is going to become tainted by other people’s desire to turn you into sheep for their flock.

Focus on your writing, not on the ego benefits of writing. Create a body of work that others can appreciate. Get published as you go along so that your growing body of work will gain exposure to potential readers. If you want fans, act like a writer with a high quality of work and a strong work ethic who deserves fans.

As Tim O’Reilly from O’Reilly Media says, “Make good things happen.” This simple phrase can apply to life in so many ways. You can make good things happen in your writing, or even when you are not writing. Try it out and see.

Make good things happen in your career, certainly make good things happen in the lives of those who are closest to you, and make good things happen to help others you meet.

Hopefully your work will also make good things happen in the world.

Will my work make good things happen? is a good touchstone question for writers.

If whatever you are devoted to will make good things happen, go forward and prosper with it as best you can.

If your work does not make good things happen in a win-win-win kind of way, you may wish to choose a different course.

Christina Katz is the author of three books from Writer’s Digest: The Writer’s Workout, Get Known Before the Book Deal, and Writer Mama. Her writing career tips and parenting advice appear regularly in national, regional, and online publications. A “gentle taskmaster” over the past decade to hundreds of writers, Christina’s students go from unpublished to published, build professional writing career skills, and increase their creative confidence over time. She holds an MFA in creative writing from Columbia College Chicago and a BA in English from Dartmouth College. A popular speaker on creative career growth, Christina presents for writing conferences, literary events, MFA writing programs, and libraries. She is the creator and host of the Northwest Author Series in Wilsonville, Oregon, where she lives with her husband, her daughter, and far too many pets. Learn more at ChristinaKatz.com.

Last month, a friend gave me a copy of Linda Cohen’s new book, 1,000 Mitzvahs: How Small Acts of Kindness Can Heal, Inspire, and Change Your Life (Seal Press, 2011).  I adore books like hers, full of pithy and creative advice for how to extend gratitude and goodwill to family, friends, colleagues, the patient dentist who takes time to explain to a young child all the details of the procedure she’s about to receive.

Cohen’s e-mail tagline reads, “Helping the world one mitzvah at a time.”  And so she does, with personal anecdotes and suggestions that range from letting a driver cut in front of you and taking your well-behaved dog on a visit to a retirement community or special education school, to collecting–with your kids in tow–donations for a food bank.  Cohen, in the midst of a busy book tour, kindly agreed to answer questions about 1,000 Mitzvahs via e-mail:

MH:  What is your favorite mitzvah from the book, and why?

LC: That’s such a tough question. So many of the mitzvahs were really simple opportunities that just arose organically as I went through my days. Some were even situations that might not have even hit my radar screen if I wasn’t actually tracking them. Others are stories that I have loved and continue to think about and share now long after the project has been finished. I guess if I had to choose my favorite mitzvah from the book though it wasn’t just a single mitzvah but rather a continual one that brought me immense joy each week.

The year after my father died, I attended services on a regular basis to participate in the mourner’s prayer. I began to visit my Rabbi and his wife and join them for breakfast in their kitchen every Wednesday after attending the morning service. The rabbi and his wife were not only my clergy, they were also dear friends. Though there was a fifty-year age difference between us, my husband and I felt a kinship with the rabbi and rebbetzin from the first day we arrived in Portland nearly fourteen years earlier. They had come to visit us in the hospital after each of our children were born and had joined us for many dinners over the years. Those visits became sacred and I loved the intimacy we shared each week. We talked about everything and I was very grateful for those mornings. My Rabbi took a fall in November 2007 and mitzvah 500 was the story I shared about visiting him in the hospital before he died the next day. That experience and the year of breakfasts solidified for me the value of being connected with another as really one of the most important tenets of life. It’s been almost 4 years now since the Rabbi is gone and the Rebbetzin has shared every part of the books progression with me, including the book launch recently. She continues to be a dear and very special friend.

MH:  How has practicing these mitzvahs on a daily basis affected your life?

LC: I have become more aware of the easy opportunities that surround us to give. I didn’t notice as many of those before and now it just seems like the days are filled with them. I have also discovered the benefits I receive when I give. Sometimes there will be an unexpected joy or delight or a fun story that comes from one of these simple mitzvahs and that seems to be the best benefit of all.

MH: Will you elaborate on how you found Seal and your editor, and on the editing/publishing process?

LC: I met my publisher from Seal Press at a writers’ conference and have thoroughly loved the process of editing and publishing. Since I was new to the business I felt very naive  but was an eager learner. I didn’t know what to expect during many parts of the writing/editing process so I asked a lot of questions, and always found that my editors at Seal took time to help me through the process. They helped me further define the idea of the book, the look of the cover, title, helped me see the benefits in certain editing changes that made the work stronger and the process has always felt inclusive and yet well conceived. They even provided comfort when I first saw my writing in print and felt disappointed in it (I learned that this is very normal for writers/authors) . By not being so attached and all knowing, the process felt very positive and continues to provide a wonderful learning curve. Honestly, I have enjoyed it so much I am already planning on a second book and this time I will have more idea what to expect.

For more on Linda Cohen, visit her website, and find her on Facebook and Twitter.

“Hey, buddy, why do you get to smoke?” the one denied asked his comrade.  “I asked if I could smoke while I meditate, and the senior monk said no.”

“Ah,” said the other monk, “I asked if I could meditate while I smoke.”

See the difference?  (I know—it took me a while.)  The second monk promised to meditate on smoking—inhaling and exhaling mindfully, taking full notice of the taste and smell and feel and sound of his Camel Light.  (Whether or not he mindfully contemplated lung cancer never makes it into the story.)

My point for writers is this: You don’t always have to write to be writing.  Less esoterically, sometimes it’s okay to take a break from the notebook and completely give yourself over to another activity such as raking the sycamore leaves out of the street or petting the cat or—in my case—baking a couple of pies for a neighborhood potluck this evening.

Meditation always deepens our writing, and it doesn’t have to be done cross-legged on a cushion.  You can meditate on whatever activity feeds your creative life, and the deep attention you pay to your game of pick-up basketball or mushroom gathering or your solo trip to the Bijou Cinemas feeds your stories and poems once you sit back down at the computer.

Meditation on an activity equals immersion into sensory details, and sensory details engage your reader.  As I make these pies—one Dutch apple, one cranberry-apple—I pay close attention to how it feels to roll squares of cold butter into flour until the mixture looks (as described in the excellent cookbook, The Clueless Gourmet), like peeling paint.  I’m inspired to try a small bite, to note the silky feel of the dough as I give it a quick kneed, to inhale the cinnamon-spiced apples simmering on the stove.

And I’m painfully aware that it’s mid-morning on a workday.  I should be at the computer; instead, I’m messing around with pastry.  The rigid part of my personality, the one that threatens to slap me upside the head with a bullwhip should I not write a little every day, says, “My friend, you need to get back to work.”

But the other, more generous part, holds up a flour-covered hand.  “My friend,” she says, just a little sarcastic from over-caffeination, “I’m researching.”

No wordsmith should be a slave to the chair.  If you’re not having a good writing day, give your butt permission to get up and do something else.  If you promise to meditate while you’re doing whatever that is, you have my permission to call it research.

Another Buddhist story to close—a young monk and an old monk went for a hike up a mountain.  As they walked, the younger monk expounded on the virtues of their surroundings.  “Aren’t the trees beautiful?  Isn’t the sky lovely?  Have you ever smelled such clean, fresh air?”

The older monk remained silent, scowling slightly as he hiked.

The two went on in this manner until they reached the summit.  Finally, dismayed, the younger monk waved his arms as if to embrace all of nature.  “Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”

The older monk regarded him solemnly.  Finally, he spoke.  “Yes,” he said, “but what a pity to say so.”

Writers say so.  That’s why I love us.

What’s your favorite activity to meditate upon when you’re not writing?  Feel free to comment below.

Memoir of my Memoir Blog–reprinted from “The Literary Duck Blog” at The Duck Store at http://www.literaryduckblog.org/2011/10/memoir-of-my-memoir-blog/

LW: Okay, so this is what happened.  Over the summer I read two amazing memoirs. I was hoping to schedule the authors for events in the fall (I did, details below; pass it on, please come!).  So then I decided that I should write a blog about how much I love memoir.  It really is my favorite genre, specifically books about people with crazy childhoods who grow up to be okay (note to parents: isn’t that funny, since our family is so totally normal???) (note to brother: ha!).  I soon realized that I don’t have much to say about memoir, really. Then one day I was sitting in the park with a friend, watching our daughters play, fretting about my overdue blog piece, when it hit me; the friend sitting next to me actually wrote a real live memoir! And she teaches writing! And she is super kind and generous! She can help me! Oh happy day!

My wise memoirist friend happens to be Melissa Hart, author of Gringa: A Contradictory Girlhood. If you have not already, you should really read this book. You should also probably buy extra copies as they make excellent gifts for your smart friends and possibly some of your family members.

Me:  So, Melissa Hart, sage memoir writer, can you tell me why a person with living family members opts for writing a memoir, verses “fiction”?

Melissa:  Thanks, Laura—this is an important question with a complex answer.  I applied to M.F.A. programs years ago with a piece of short fiction based on my adolescence.  When I began working with YA author Jacqueline Woodson at Goddard College, she asked me about the piece I’d written, and I explained to her that my mother did indeed lose custody of my siblings and me when she divorced my dad and came out.  At the time, there was maybe one book on the subject—Christina Salat’s middle-grade fiction novel, Living in Secret—but thousands of lesbian mothers lost custody of their children in the 1970s and early 1980s.  Woodson, as well as other faculty, let me know that owning our story is critical, especially when writing about social issues.  I knew that parts of my memoir would anger family members and sadden others, and I had to make a difficult decision about letting the manuscript sit in a drawer or sending it out into the world.  In the end, I chose to publish for the greater good, and I’ve been pleased by the dialogue that Gringa has inspired—dialogue not just about homophobia and about same-sex parenting, but about race and culture and who has the right to tell her own story . . . and when.

I know that as a reader, I would feel cheated if I read a piece of fiction and found out later it was memoir.  Authors worry about hurting family members and friends, but these people will likely recognize themselves in fiction, just as they will in memoir.  I’m a big believer in owning our stories, and not being afraid to tell them.  Don’t assume you can predict the repercussions; my mother and sister and I are actually closer because of my memoir, and my mother has lately begun writing memoir in which I play a part.  Scary, as my role appears to be the comic relief.

Me:  Although, your book is hilarious, it is also filled with many sensitive issues; moms who are torn between family and their need to follow their own pursuits (like night school!), dads who would prefer a Stepford wife (can I say that about your Dad??), brothers with down syndrome, race, sexuality, politics, insane laws, growing up, homophobia, and plenty of the scandalous racy memories of youth I used to enjoy reading about a lot more before I had a daughter of my own. Is there anything you regret putting in the book?

Melissa:  Oh yes.  Here’s my advice to memoirists: When your agent or editor suggests that you write the details of losing your virginity, say no.  While my particular story has unusual details which support the overall theme of Gringa, now I can’t send the book to my grandfather or mother-in-law.  That’s the one scene I regret putting in the book.  I’m not a huge fan of sex scenes in books or in movies unless they’re really subtle and artistic.  I’d like to think that the later sex scene in Gringa meets those requirements, but both anecdotes will certainly open up a dialogue with my young daughter when the time comes!

Me:  What are you most proud of as the author of Gringa?

Melissa:  I’m proud of the balance I struck between humor and poignancy.  My great-grandparents were vaudevillian comics, and their sense of humor trickled down to my siblings and me.  In the midst of losing our mother and only getting to see her four days a month throughout our adolescence, we still found a lot to laugh about—weird stuff, like pink stuffed moles and cruising in our VW bus and swimming in our Wonderwoman Underoos.  I prefer a blend of comedy and pathos rather than a memoir that leaves the reader wanting a stiff drink and a good cry.

Me: Is it weird when your mom is visiting and you have a dinner party and all of your friends treat her like a rock star?

Melissa:  They don’t exactly treat her like a rock star—okay, they did once, when I took my family to Cornucopia for the holidays, and everyone turned and stared and tried to figure out who was who in Gringa—but usually, my friends just include her in whatever we’re talking about at the moment.  They seldom ask what it’s like to be in the book; this only happens when we attend writing conferences together, or she comes to one of my readings. She’s a lot more charming and witty than I am, and she inevitably upstages me.

Me: What advise do you have for budding memoirists?

Melissa:  Learn to identify a memoir-worthy portion of your life, or a theme, and start taking extensive notes.  Maybe you’ve gone back to school to be a French film translator (I just met a wonderful woman who did this in her late 50s) in Paris; journal extensively every night.  Don’t try to write the book when you’re in the midst of some noteworthy experience, but just get down all the details and conversations and relevant news articles and setting and clothing and all that good stuff so that when you’ve got some distance and perspective on your subject matter, you won’t have to recreate scenes from memory.

I also urge memoirists, whether they’re crafting short or long pieces, to think of each story or chapter with an eye for narrative arc.  Build up the tension to a climax.  Don’t forget to let readers know what’s at stake for every single character, on every single page.  Ask yourself who you are at the beginning of the story or chapter, and who you are by the end.  And finally, ask yourself what question guides the story or chapter, and how you answer it by the end of that particular piece.  Exhausting?  You bet.

Me:  I know you have been hard at work on your newest book (also a memoir).  Tell the people about it please.

Melissa:  I’m finishing up a manuscript about the people who dedicate their lives to helping injured and orphaned children and birds of prey.  Seems like a tenuous connection, yes?  The two demographics have a lot more in common than one might think.  The memoir’s based on the three years my husband and I worked to adopt a child; during the same time, I learned to train owls for educational presentations at the Cascade Raptor Center in Eugene.  It’s a strange, funny book, and I’m hoping it inspires dialogue about issues surrounding international and local adoption, as well as teaching people (in a fun, non-didactic manner) about birds of prey and why it’s important to preserve their habitat and their well-being.

Me: How many writing and interviewing rules did I break in this interview?

Melissa:  Ah . . . well, you’re not really supposed to interview your friends, but I’ll confess to that particular transgression myself.

Me:  Will you still come to the UO Bookstore/Duck Store to read from your new book?

Why, yes!  And I hope to bring live raptors with me.  We did this several years ago at the Eugene Public library, right after it opened, and the Great-horned owl pooped on the new carpet.  People still talk about it as being one of the oddest literary readings they’ve ever witnessed.

Me: Perfect! We strive for memorable, if not odd at the Duck Store.  We cannot wait for your book release and in the meantime, please join us for Memoir Night featuring Peter Hoffmeister and Lidia Yuknavitch.

Memoir Night, featuring Peter Hoffmeister (End of Boys) and Lidia Yuknavitch (A Chronology of Water) will be reading from their memoirs and signing books at the UO Campus Knight Library Browsing Room at 7:00 p.m. on Wednesday, November 9, 2011.

Camping on the Alaska Marine Highway Ferry

• How to use your own passions to identify story ideas that make editors salivate
• Travel essays and articles–how to craft them, and why to write both
• Tips and tricks from the most successful travel writers working today
• Best websites for travel writers looking for new and interesting stories
  
• Sidebars–how to research and write them to entice editors and empower readers
  
• How to submit your travel pieces to editors at magazines and newspapers
• How to document your travels through snapshots and publication-quality photography
• How to turn your travel writing into a tax write-off and a platform for your book-length travel memoir or guidebook
  

Swimming, fully-clothed, in Maui

Questions?  Don’t hesitate to contact me!  Want to see something else on the syllabus?  Just let me know.  Looking forward to seeing you!  Still not convinced that this genre’s for you?  Here–take a look at a few of the travel pieces I’ve written over the past few years:

I'll teach you to spot what's new, what's relevant, and what's downright weird.

If you want to sing out, sing out!

Last Christmas, Santa brought my kid a karaoke machine which I immediately swiped for my own literary purposes.  It’s got a microphone and an amplifier, perfect for reading my rough drafts out loud to one or more of the cats in my office on any given morning.  Alone except for Alger Hiss and Eeyore, I pretend I’m reading on This American Life, rehearsing word choices and sentences and characters’ emotions.

I’ve always suggested that my writing students read their work aloud before submitting it to editors.  At its most basic, performing a piece allows you to catch typos and problems with verb tense and awkward syntax.  But if you envision yourself on the radio or on stage, and treat your reading like a performance, you’ll get a solid feeling of the manuscript’s narrative arc and characterization and theme.  Trust me—reading out loud is not just for former high school thespians—and it’ll prep you for going on book tour once your manuscript’s in print.

Fellow Eugenean, JoJo Jensen, understands the value of reading aloud.  I’ve just finished writing a short profile of her new business for The Writer Magazine.  Jensen, who works as a voice talent, launched Chapter & Voice earlier this year—it’s a service for writers in any genre, matching a short segment of their manuscript with a professional voice talent to produce a high-quality digital audio clip which writers can then send to agents and editors, attach to their e-mail signature, and put on their website as one more way to reach out to readers. 

Writing can be an awfully silent endeavor.  If you work like I do, you prefer no music, no television, not even a rousing cat-fight to interrupt the creative process.  But once you’ve finished your rough draft, why not grab the nearest karaoke machine and have at it?  Better yet, gather an audience of friends and family members and perform your piece.  Once you’re comfortable reading your work aloud, you can craft 300-word commentaries in your spare time and read them on various radio stations.  Here are a few websites to get you started:

• This I Believe–Share an essay that explores one of the values informing your daily life.

• Minnesota Public Radio–Share your insights into contemporary political and social topics.

• Youth Radio–For young adults, offer your perspective on the issues shaping your world.

I’d love to know readers’ methods for reading your work aloud.  Feel free to comment below!