Finished revisions on "Deep with Sea" and sent it out today! (Well, I haven't dropped it in the mailbox yet, but I will). I know it seems as if I've been working on this story forever; that's 'cause I have. Sorry if hearing updates on it got a bit tedious, but that's what the job is like, I'm afraid...at least for me, I tend to do multiple revisions over a course of months, if not years.
I heard yesterday that Leah, co-Clarionite, just had a story accepted for the same anthology that I'm sending this one too. Which is utterly thrilling, of course, but also a bit nerve-wracking...have I left it too late? She *thought* they were still reading, but wasn't sure. Cross your fingers for me, guys...I'd really like to get into this one, as it's the last anthology in a really lovely series -- the Fairy Tale series, edited by Ellen Datlow.
I'm really sliding back into student habits in some ways; I've been so busy yesterday that I ordered a pizza for dinner and fully intend to eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner today. Appalling, no? Maybe I'll make a bit pot of curry next Sunday to carry me through the beginning of the week.
Anyway, back to work. Schedule for this morning: revise my CV, adding publishing dates. Put it on-line if I get motivated enough. Shower, dress, eat cold pizza, drink hot tea. Do journal homework that I'm getting painfully behind on. That should take me through until 8 at least, I think.
Have a lovely day, my sweets.
10:42. Got some nice e-mail; a new magazine, Whispers and Shouts has accepted three of my stories. Two (Fleeing Gods and Goddess Blessing) are on my pages, but the third (A Dream of Wolves) has only appeared in print (and I'm not even sure of that, since the magazine never appeared on my doorstep (they did pay me, though, so I was hesitant about reselling first rights). "A Dream of Wolves" is odd, since it's my only horror piece to date. You may want to check it out -- it'll be in issue #2.
They asked me for a bio, and I gave them half of the one from the back of my book, but then added my favorite ice cream. I don't know why. Here's a random list of some of my favorites:
I did one journal this morning -- only 6 more to go. :-) (That's to catch up, of course. I have to keep up with the ones each week.) I also have an appalling amount of practicing to do; I've been very bad. On the plus side, I'm caught up in Fiction class, and can start work on a new story, "Endings", that I've been playing around with in my head for a while. In the same series as "Interruptions"...these may end up being my next book. We'll see.
I'm back, tired and with piles of work, so you'll excuse me if I run away quickly to do it. In the meantime, you might want to check out a nice review of my book and some others at Paramour's webpage. They put out a nice magazine...
And a collaborative villanelle from this weekend, in the old style:
And yet if you should walk away,
The pleasure lost would not be slight...
Are there words that I could say,
To calm your soul, your doubts allay,
So reservations may take flight?
I know it's true you cannot stay
But what we could do... If I may?
Unveil this body to your sight...
Are there words that I could say?
We'd fly full-force into the fray
To drown among the sheets so white --
I know it's true you cannot stay.
Yet dearest, I would have you lay
Beside me... If I shape them right,
Are there words that I could say?
I know it's true; you cannot stay.
*****
Roshani T. Anandappa & M.A. Mohanraj
September 25, 1997
On Her Wedding Day
We stand, enclosed within a sanctifying circle, redwoods
extending. The white pole of the chuppah steady in my hands,
dark blue ribbons fluttering from the lace canopy. She a fairy
dream in wedding white, auburn curls cascading, facing away, drowning
in his eyes. The rabbi's voice rises and falls, and if
now and then a catch of breath interrupts, if salt water
gleams, we will forgive. She speaks, and weeps, for us all.
Do not think that this is grief. How could it be? For him, an
angel clearly walks the earth. He barely hears the rabbi's words, a
'yes' hovering on his lips. He has lost himself in her. The
rabbi speaks the solemn Hebrew, pauses for a silly tale or two;
everyone laughs. Yet even this laughter is but another note of
joy; a rising crest, a wave that will not spare flowered maiden aunts
or cousins in dark suits. Quarrels silenced, hands clasped, perceived
injustice forgotten, lost in the gathered blessing. That the pair and
their
children might live in love. Fervent wishes from rabbi and gathering,
in our best hearts. And if but a hundredth of the joy that shines
new-forged in his eyes survives this day, we need not worry; love so
grand will fill their lives, spilling out in a happy contagion.
*****
1:40 - Finished final (?) revision of "Deep with Sea". Thank the deity. Tired, satisfied. Mailed out to list of those of you wanted to read stories from me -- if you're not on that list and want to be, drop me a note.
Oh, I'd appreciate feedback/criticism on the poem above, btw. I'm vaguely considering doing it up pretty and giving it to Kira and Sean as a wedding present...
Karina's birthday is tomorrow, and I have once again not managed to find her anything spiffy in time. Ah well -- e-mail on her birthday and present following some time after, I suspect. I haven't even mailed Kevin's birthday present yet, and his birthday was weeks ago...
I have piles of work to do. At least it feels that way. I'm beginning to get a sneaking suspicion that if I just *do* some of the damned work it'll turn out to be not as hard or as much as I fear....but it's so much easier to clean my house instead. :-) But seriously. Goals for today:
Tomorrow should be better.
i will not say goodbye again
i have grown tired of breaking promises
he pulled me off balance and kissed me and we fell to the ground
want to fuck you to absolution or oblivion
shoulder meets neck in a delicate hollow begging
scent of crushed pine heavy
mantle of fire-leaf fragments in gold hair
On and on until you plead exhaustion
spend a guilty afternoon on pleasure
remembering tiramisu and raspberry liqueur
hope that this letter is not too much of an imposition
jamming them fused bending both out of shape
a double-sided mirror-reversed-90 degree turned-puzzle from hell
bodies on the mountain screaming in the wind
clammy grip of winding-sheet
your empty hands
Does it not seem late, my love?
This has been too long a day already
I wanted to write something lovely for you
stifled worries and silent patience
a cool hand on your fevered cheek
sweat once again proclaims
Last night I scrubbed the tub on hands and knees
listening for your muddy footsteps in the hall
the taste of him on your lips
broken leaves should emphasize dying
roll in our blood -- clenched in the skin-touching
swift combustion, destruction, regeneration
if only a moment in your arms
pleasure can subsume the ache for a sharper biting joy
stir a cup of chocolate in a grey morning
It is not a bad ending
*****
In other news, I've started writing the proposal for that Star Trek novel. I did tell you guys that I've decided I want to write a Star Trek novel, right? There's an idea that's been nibbling at the back of my head for a while, and I've decided to just pour it out on paper. So what if I never sell it -- it'll be fun to write, and right now I need something low-stress and fun.
Anyone know if there's a list somewhere of SF authors with web pages? I'd like to create one here, but no sense duplicating effort if it already exists. Of course, mine will be annotated (because a) I can't resist annotating and b) I think it makes for a more readable, interesting list of links).
Anyway, back to work. Hope the week is going well for you all...
I'm babbling all this at you because I'm avoiding work. I'm behind in one class already and need to try to catch up on that this evening. And I need to read some academic articles and write journal entries on them by 10:30....and it's 9:35 now, so I'd best go. Ick. Argh. Some mornings you just don't want to use your brain, y'know? If someone came up to me right now and offered to trade me an hour of heavy labor for doing this homework for me, I'd gladly accept. And just think, I'm paying the school for the privilege... (well, not anymore, since I have a TA-ship covering tuition. But I did last year. :-)
Have a good Monday, guys. Smile. I'll try to.
8:47. Well, I didn't get quite all my work done, but enough of it. I should be able to finish catching up tomorrow, if I'm good. One story to crit, one article to read, 3 1/2 journal entries to write, 2 reader responses to write. I've got about 5 hours to work in tomorrow, so I should be able to manage that. Eh -- I don't know why I dump all this stuff on you guys; it's hardly interesting.
I had some promising conversations today with a writer for a magazine in Italy, who is trying to persuade his editor to run an interview with me. That'd be fun. :-) He also wants me to get my book translated into Italian -- fine with me; now I just need a publisher in Italy to volunteer! :-)
Gosh, guys. I'd really like to be clever and witty here, but I'm just too tired. Well, when all fails in a journal, substitute gory personal details of your choice, right? You guys are sadly neglected in that regard, you know -- there are journals all over the web that'll not only tell you who the author is sleeping with, but how often and in what positions. And here I am, erotica writer, and you don't get any of that (except what you cleverly infer). I'll tell you something else personal instead, how's that?
Challah
1 pkg. yeast
1 1/2 c. warm water
1/4 c. sugar
3 c. flour
3 eggs, beaten
half an onion, diced
Dissolve yeast in water (remember, if it doesn't froth in a few minutes, it's dead, and you need to start over). Add to flour,e ggs, sugar and onion. Let rise to double. Then add:
1/2 c. oil
2 c. flour
1 T. salt
Knead for five minutes. Let rise 50 minutes. Punch down and let rise another 20 minutes. Divide dough into three portionsa nd braid. Place on a well-greased cookie sheet. Let rise another 1/2 hour. Wash with a mixture of egg yolk (1, beaten) and water and sprinkle with poppy seeds (I skipped this last bit, since I didn't have any). Bake in preheated 350 degree oven for 50 minutes. Bread is done when it sounds hollow when thumped.
Cliff tells me that there's no dairy in it so that it can be eaten either with milk products or meat products (in Jewish law, you're not supposed to mix milk and meat at the same meal.) Delicious bread that I've always loved (Manny Jacobowitz made it for me years ago, Manny of the wonderful Jewish jokes), and a lovely way to spend a Saturday morning.
Will write more later, promise.
4:40. So I'm back. Yesterday was a good day -- I finally got to meet Jordan Shelbourne, author of "Unwrap Party", one of my favorite ever on-line erotica stories. He was in town for a business meeting, and we managed to get together for dinner. Took him to Axum Cafe, which I repeat is the best cheap Ethiopian in the city. Afterwards was too tired to try to make it back across the Bay (the BART (subway) strike makes it harder), so called up Owen and Sherman and crashed at their place. They have new cats! Not kittens but sleek young adolescents and quite gorgeous; one black and white, one pure black. Miss my kitty. Petted them for a while, last night and this morning. Made me late for the bus (well, late is 6:30 instead of 6:00, but that still delayed me by a good hour, 'cause that sent me into rush hour and everything is appallingly slow because of the strike).
Great ensemble class, as usual. I'm practicing furiously, trying to catch up to these people who are *so* much more experienced than I am with recorder. If I can just memorize five more fingerings by next class, and get a couple sixteenth-note runs down, I ought to be okay.
When David moves out here, we're supposedly going to trade guitar lessons for piano lessons. That'd be cool. Hear that David? It's on public record now... :-) I really like the idea of coming home from class and practicing for an hour or two each day (my mother would *not* believe I said that. And meant it).
Spent some time this morning reading through some of the neat new sexuality-related webzines. I think I've mentioned some of these before, but I really do recommend you guys check out mouth organ, Hoot Island, and screech. I'd recommend Intersmut too, but they're on hiatus for a while. Links to them on my More Carnal Knowledge page.
I think a quiet evening tonight. I finished re-reading the Pierce Alanna books, and have started Nicola Griffith's Ammonite, which I'm enjoying. A trip to the grocery store, a long hot bath, a good book. It's not everyone's idea of an exciting Friday night, but after a tiring week, it sounds just right to me. I'm even eating leftovers (the groceries are for tomorrow, when Sherman's stopping by for dinner, and Sunday morning muffins to feed the people going to RenFaire who are gathering at my place).
I will tell you my leftover recipe. (Careful readers will note that this is a curry recipe much like many of my other curry recipes). Dice an onion (I would have used two, but I only had one. Sad.) and fry it in a little vegetable oil with a couple pinches of black mustard seed and cumin seed. While it's frying, peel and dice a big baking potato. Once the onions are golden, add 1/2 teaspoon yellow curry powder and 1/2 teaspoon chili powder (should be easy to find both of these in any decent grocery store, although they'll be cheaper at an Indian grocery store). Fry a minute or two, until the smoke makes you cough. Add 1 large cooking spoon of ketchup (yes, I said ketchup. What, it's not authentic enough for you? It's just tomato and vinegar and sugar...you want to add them all separately and take the time to cook them down? Fine, but you'll have to figure out the proportions yourself) and a 1/2 teaspoon salt. Add potatoes and 1/2 pound ground turkey and stir. Add some water if necessary to keep from burning. Bring to a boil, and then turn down to medium low, cover and cook until potatoes are soft. Don't let it burn. Yummy over rice or with bread (any bread. Naan is traditional, but pita works fine, and I must admit to a weakness for just plain white bread. Though a hearty white bread is better for this than Wonder. (Kevin couldn't believe that I actually ate Wonder bread with curry. I'm a philistine. What can I say?))
Revised my bio, one year after putting it up. Not much has changed. :-) Take a look, tell me what you think.
I may stop back in again, but if I don't, have a great weekend, everyone...
It's hopefully more interesting than my babbling. If nothing else, they'll point you to some good books.
Book Notes: Finished Maso (good, complex, overly sentimental for my tastes), rereading the Tamora Pierce Alanna books (excellent children's series) for relaxation. Reading tons of articles on pedagogy (which is only half as dull as it sounds). Fascinating article by Farber - "The Student As Nigger". Recommended highly. Fiction class going well. Working on a series of short stories focusing on immigrant/first generation themes. My parents will hate these. Probably more than they hate the erotica. This makes me highly uncomfortable...but I suppose Amy Tan's mother probably had some issues with The Joy Luck Club too. Sigh. Catholic guilt never truly leaves you, no matter how long ago you left the Church. (And you continue to capitalize the Church for the rest of your born days).
In other news, well, not much to report. Had some people over for potluck yesterday, which was fun, but meant that I ended up not getting much work done. Going to have to cut back on the socializing, I think.
Tonight Adam's coming by and taking me to dinner, though, which will be nice. And today, I *am* going to get a lot of work done. Determination, yes? Did practice recorder some this morning (oh, I've forgotten at least half the fingerings I learned last spring), which was good. Now off to do some reading (a hellacious amount of reading to do in the next three days)...
Have a good day, y'all. I'll try to write something more cheerful or at least more interesting soon.
Exciting news, if a bit late, is that I'll be on the radio tonight, in Connecticut. The station is at 89.5 FM, and I'll be on from around 8:00 - 8:45 East coast time. They have a web page at http://www.wpkn.org.
Not much else to report. Spent the day working on house stuff (cleaning, fixing things, etc.) and this evening Sherman's dragging me to a party on the peninsula. Oh, soc.sexuality.general is finally up and running -- going well! It's exciting...
9:35 - Carole Maso's Ghost Dance. A book with weight and texture. Novel or prose poem? This was difficult to read, for various reasons. Shaded with grief. Unfolding into layers and levels. At times I wanted to put it down, to walk away. It was worth staying with. I am overly sentimental, so remember that when I say this story made me cry. Oddly enough, it is the mother, Christine Wing, whom I think I will remember, not the narrator. I do not know if this is what the author intended.
2:15 - For the first time in perhaps a year, perhaps longer, all my mail boxes are empty. There are no letters waiting to be answered. The guilt is gone, gone I tell you!
There is, of course, more work to be done...but this is an accomplishment, no matter that it will likely not last more than ten minutes. I shall revel in it.
10:00. A poem dragged me from my bed. They didn't warn me about this when I applied to be a writer.
Do you know that some days
you rush through me,
the letters of your name
tumbling and flowing,
sunlight on the river,
appearing, disappearing, dancing.
A whisper in the back of my throat;
a lazy, warm caress.
Some days, you are not far away
at all.
*****
Too tired to write more, so I'll simply show you a poem I found (with a little help from Jed):
This was posted to talk.bizarre and rec.arts.poems, subject: love triangles.
Equilateral: this may be best --
points even-spaced and polyamorous --
but I know that is not the way for us.
In right triangles, one vertex is blessed
with direct lines, while the others are oblique;
that fits, I think -- you disagree? Well, now...
Acute isosceles. I'm looking down
A long and narrow angle, just to seek
a glimpse of you, while you -- no? That's wrong?
Then what do _you_ suggest?
Scalene, obtuse.
Irregular, untheoremed, wide and loose --
like the three of us, hopelessly unstrung.
'Euclid alone has looked on Beauty bare',
but love holds nothing equal, nothing fair.
-ed gaillard
--good night. Sleep well.
"...when you, in the midst of the holiday, are bearing your solitude more heavily than usual. But if then you notice that it is great, rejoice because of this; for what (ask yourself) would solitude be that had no greatness; there is but one solitude, and that is great, and not easy to bear, and to almost everybody come hours when they would gladly exchange it for any sort of intercourse, however banal and cheap, for the semblance of some slight accord with the first comer, with the unworthiest...But perhaps those are the very hours when solitude grows; for its growing is painful as the growing of boys and sad as the beginning of springtimes. But that must not mislead you. The necessary thing is after all but this: solitude, great inner solitude. Going-into-oneself and for hours meeting no one -- this one must be able to attain. To be solitary, the way one was solitary as a child..."
And on love...
"To love is good, too: love being difficult. For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation. For this reason young people, who are beginners in everything, cannot yet know love: they have to learn it....But learning-time is always a long, secluded time, and so loving, for a long while ahead and far on into life, is -- solitude, intensified and deepened loneness for him who loves. Love is at first not anything that means merging, giving over, and uniting with another (for what would a union be of something unclarified and unfinished, still subordinate --?), it is a high inducement to the individual to ripen, to become something in himself, to become world, to become world for himself for another's sake, it is a great exacting claim upon him, something that chooses him out and calls him to vast things..."
I will have to think on all of this, but there is certainly something here that speaks to me, and is even comforting, though I am not sure comfort is his aim.
Have a pleasant day, everyone.
1:35. Just finished reading the last week of Ceej's journal. If any of you enjoyed the 15 Worst Romance Novel Lines, you should probably check out her August 31st entry with samples of "It Came From the Slush Pile!" Another point from her journal -- she started a liquid fast diet a few days ago. I'm worried about her. I'm going to write to her and find out if a doctor has approved this thingie. Thirdly, she reminded me that I hadn't addressed the Princess Diana death.
Of course, I don't have to. I don't usually keep up with what's going in the real world, after all, and I certainly don't address it in this journal. I find that I do want to discuss it a little, because I think it's sad.
Note that I said sad, not tragic. Sad and almost pathetic, to be honest. She strikes me as a woman who despite all of her privilege, was placed in a very difficult situation. I wouldn't like to try to preserve a romantic relationship under such a fierce media eye. I doubt many marriages could have survived what she and Charles went through. I admire her attempts to maintain her dignity through all the squalor and shouting. I admire her humanitarian efforts. I don't hate the media -- I've been a journalist myself. But I think there's a line that shouldn't be crossed, a place where the public's right to know intersects with an individual's right to privacy. And I think her right to privacy, her right to live her own life, was infringed upon. That's sad, and unfair, and it makes me angry. It's emblematic of a greater problem, I think -- a disregard for individual liberties, a mob mentality. It worries me.
Also got new glasses today! I'm very rough on my glasses, even though I don't wear them very often, and the old pair was being held together mostly by hope. Very pleased with new pair. I think they're cute. :-)
Another mess on the mailing list. I don't know if I'm really a very good administrator; I'm not very good at disciplining people. I may actually have to kick some people off the list, which I've never done before. :( Will think about it.
Anyway, back to work, I'm afraid. A little more work, then sleep, then up early to finish the work.