Roger and Me (no, not the movie)

Maybe I should have written this blog entry yesterday, but reflecting for one day on the euphoria of the moment has given me more perspective on the matter, perspective that I lacked yesterday. After all, didn't Wordsworth describe poetry as "emotion recollected in tranquility" in his Preface to Lyrical Ballads (see paragraph 26)? I think the same can be said for other forms of literature, of art, as well.

Who knew that putting my novel aside for a week (as mentioned in my previous entry) would fire up my creative juices on my blog? Yet that was but one catalyst. The other was praise. Praise from none other than Roger Ebert.

I have followed Ebert's blog the longest of any of the blogs I read on a regular basis, though I've only commented on it a handful of times. I haven't commented more because I either have had nothing to say, or because other people's comments say all I have wanted to say, and then some. Since Ebert's comment about my blog, however, I've realized two things:

1.) I feel more like I'm part of an online community now. His blog on blogs (where he replies to my comment, nineteen down from the top, which I've posted under my real name) made me not only notice the names of people who scatter comments throughout his blogs, but feel CONNECTED to them, since they are indulging in their passions in a way similar to my own (and, of course, now I can check out and comment on their blogs, and vice versa). I have linked to two of the blogs he mentions since yesterday, one by a thirteen-year-old who writes better film reviews than some professional reviewers I've read (not Ebert, of course ;-)), and a Canadian woman who writes such gorgeous, giving prose that it makes my writing look like feeble attempts by a chimpanzee. Actually, that's going a bit too far, but she's very good.

2.) I feel like my blog matters. Of course, my friends have left comments from time to time, which also validate this blog, as have other people whom I don't know, but to have a Pulitzer-Prize winning critic tell me that, if only I had commented on one of the last few blogs he had posted, he would have included my blog IN HIS BLOG, well, that's a whole new level of validation. Wonderful, surreal, and just plain awesome. Suffice it to say, from now on, I will be commenting on his blog (and others) more often.

Here are the links to the two blogs I mentioned:

The Flick Pick Monster

Etheriel~Musings

And, of course:

Roger Ebert's Journal

Update on the Novel 3

Before I forget, I want to update all of you on my novel.

My novel is split into two parts. Last week, I printed out the final pages of Part Two, meaning that I have completed all rudimentary work on my second/third draft (click here to see why there's confusion on which draft it is I'm working on). I have set it aside for the week, but hope to go back to it next week, when I shall be reading through all of Part Two several times. The first time, I will underline parts that may need revision. The second time, I will make revisions as I read. Then, I will read all of Part Two again, with my revisions. After that, I shall incorporate those revisions into my hard drive copy, making further changes as I see fit. Once that is done, I will print out the entire novel....and set it aside for several months, during which time I hope to write a series of short stories, poems, and various other short works.

I do not know how many revisions my novel will end up going through before it's completed, but I do know that these revisions will not be the last ones I make. I also know that, with every round of revisions, I get closer and closer to finishing the novel. When that happens, when the novel has reached a form that I feel is complete, I shall set it aside once more, come back to it, and see if I feel the same. If I do, then I shall start sharing parts of it with my readers online, and the whole of it with several people I know. Based on my filtering of my acquaintances' feedback, the final round of revisions shall begin. Once those revisions have been incorporated into the book, the search begins for an agent. And soon after, hopefully, my dreams of literary grandeur start to become reality.

The Great Jang Geum, and the Collected Knowledge of Mankind

Having just seen the fantastic Korean historical drama "Dae Jang Geum" (subtitled in English, of course), I have become fascinated with Korean history, and with this historical figure, of which the show is a fictional representation. A great fictional representation, I should say, for I cannot remember seeing another show that left me feeling as entertained AND FULFILLED as this one. It is as if I just finished reading an epic masterpiece, such as Lord of the Rings. Being that the series consists of 54 one hour episodes, watching it is a bit like reading a large--and exceptionally well-written--book.

Which leads me to two points: 1.) were DVDs not in existence, and subtitles not available, I would have had no way of watching this show--ever; 2.) do a web search on "Dae Jang Geum," and the only pages that come back concern the show. So while popular entertainment has illuminated a culture unknown to me and a person unknown to people outside of Korea, actual historical knowledge proves harder to come by. Even though there are Korean history books in the English language, I have not found any books that deal exclusively with this figure in history, and while information on her may be scarce (and may be why the most well-known account of her life is a TV series), no novels have been written about her, either. Now, if I went to Korea and searched the Korean titles in a major bookstore, would that still be the case? If she is as revered a figure as the TV show makes her out to be, I doubt it.

I accept that neither I, nor anyone else, will ever be able to assimilate all the knowledge that mankind has accumulated up to this point in history, never mind the knowledge yet to be learned. What I do wish for, however, is for all or most of that knowledge to be readily available to those who wish to receive it. In this way, translators are some of the most useful people to society, for often what is hidden from one culture is revealed by another (case in point: "Dae Jang Geum"). And while it's always better to read something in its original language (as something is always lost in translation), when one is dealing with knowledge, better to reveal most of it that to reveal none of it. In fact, when it concerns history or culture, I feel the work cannot be translated into enough languages. We stand to gain more as a species if all of us can share in the tragedies and triumphs that make our planet's history so very interesting.

So, if any of you readers out there can shed some knowledge on this historical figure, feel free to comment.

Note: Since posting this blog, I have come across this article on King Jungjong, who appointed Jang Geum as his personal physician. While it does help to give a little background on the history of the period, this linking article on Jang Geum may explain why I can't find much on her: not much about her was written down. Even if more were known about her, however, I would prefer her portrayal in fiction to her portrayal in history, for I feel that the greater truths about a person and his or her times can sometimes only be reached in fiction, as nonfiction is limited by its scientific adherence to facts. Fiction, on the other hand, is only answerable to Truth, the facts be damned.

And the Winner Is....

I have decided to submit "Akiba Maid" in the Long River Run poetry journal. I only got two responses to my possible entries, one of which hated "Akiba Maid" (made the reader want to take a shower), one of which really liked it. Since, as a writer, my job is to exert a powerful reaction from my readers, whether it be negative or positive, I felt I had to go with this poem for inclusion in the journal. Besides, "Time is a Jealous Mistress" is a better poem for poetry contests. Not to say that "Akiba Maid" won't win any contests, but "Time is a Jealous Mistress" appeals more to the heartstrings than "Akiba Maid" does.

Anyway, I have revised the poem a little, and while it hasn't changed the meaning significantly, I think it has clarified the relationship between the patrons and the maids:

Akiba Maid

She walks through the streets

With its shouting hawkers,

Video game music,

And otaku stalkers.

She arrives for work

Dressed in white lace,

Frilly undergarments,

Black shoes, a cute face,

To cheer up customers

After a long day

Of work, or whatever

It is that they play.

Sometimes she performs,

Sometimes she serves drinks,

Sometimes she just talks

To faces turned pink,

Flushed with excitement

Interacting with a girl

Who's not on a screen,

In a book, or magazine.

Yet created by men

Out of 2-D girls,

These women exist

In a real fantasy world.

The original poem, as well as "Time is a Jealous Mistress," can be found in my previous blog, which should appear below this one.

A Bit of a Dilemma

I'm having trouble deciding on a poem to submit to Long River Run, a members-only journal of the Connecticut Poetry Society. Here's my first choice:

Akiba Maid

She walks through the streets

With its shouting hawkers,

Video game music,

And otaku stalkers.

She arrives for work

Dressed in white lace,

Frilly undergarments,

Black shoes, and a face

That cheers up customers

After long days

Of work, or whatever

It is that they play.

Sometimes she performs,

Sometimes she serves drinks,

Sometimes she just talks

To faces turned pink,

Flushed with excitement

At talking to a girl

Who's not on a screen,

In a book, or magazine,

Yet created by men

Out of similar girls.

These women exist

In a real fantasy world.

I can still edit this poem more, if need be, though that might make a case for sending in an earlier, more "finished" poem, instead. Recently, one of my high school classmates lost his mother to cancer, which made me think about submitting this poem, instead:

Time is a Jealous Mistress

Time is a jealous mistress

That always gets its way,

Whether it be tomorrow,

Or whether it be today.

It doesn't give without receiving,

And it receives far more than it gives,

Yet as it passes, wounds heal,

And Life continues to live.

In typing that to the computer, I actually found two verb tense mistakes, which I have corrected, and which, in fact, give the poem more punch. Since anything I send in will be accepted, however, should I be sending in my best poetry, or should I be sending in poetry that I may not be able to get published elsewhere (not that I've had any luck so far)?

My third option is to submit a poem that would be included in my college poetry collection, so as to create interest in the project when it's finished. In that case, I have a plethora of poems to choose from. My only limit is length (40 lines or less) and subject matter (can't be "offensive," though I'm not sure if that means it can't be racist or sexist, or it can't be "objectionable"--hopefully the former, but being that most of the Connecticut Poetry Society members are over forty and female, I probably won't be sending in any of my sexually-charged poetry, anyway, as innocuous as it is).

So really, I have three problems: 1.) Which of my poems are "finished" enough to be submitted? 2.) Should I submit a poem that would have less of a chance of winning a contest, or should I submit a poem of high quality? 3.) Should I use this opportunity to promote a collection that hasn't been published yet by submitting a poem that can only include a promotional plug if it's been included in a collection that's already been published?

All submissions are being accepted in electronic form, and while I have until the end of the month to send out my submission, I'd like to do so by Friday, if possible. So, what do all of you out in the blog-o-sphere think?

"No Man Can Write Who Is Not First a Humanist"

The title of this entry is a quote from William Faulkner. Like the statements Faulkner made when accepting his Nobel Prize, this statement has much truth to it. After all, Shakespeare is considered the world's greatest writer because his writing plumbed the depths of human experience better than any writer before or since.

But is this what Faulkner was referring to when he said the above quote? Clues come from the aforementioned Nobel Prize acceptance speech. In brief, remembering all that makes us human makes us humanists. And yet in the speech, Faulkner highlighted mankind's best attributes, saying it is not enough to write about mankind's worst attributes only. If mankind (and womankind) is to prevail, writers must remind their readers of all the good that is within them.

Think of the last great movie that you saw and see if any of the universal truths that Faulkner highlighted are found within. You should find at least one. If you don't, I'd recommend watching different movies. Great books, great movies, great paintings--they all include universal truths that speak to the better parts of our natures. That is not to say that one cannot write about or enjoy reading or seeing or hearing about the darker aspects of humanity, but it cannot be all dark, or we shall not care what the outcome is. Even in the dark Japanese movie Sansho the Bailiff, the struggles and hardships that the main family endures would mean nothing if none of the universal truths that Faulkner mentioned--"love and honor and pity and pride and compassion and sacrifice"--were not displayed by that long-suffering family, if they forgot their humanity in the face of their hardships. One of them almost does, but his sister--through her love and sacrifice--makes him remember.

One of the problems I find with much of the fiction written today is its dark view of humanity. The characters endure, but they do not prevail. The encroaching darkness has become darker, the struggles have become more pointless, and while these writers know that "the human heart in conflict with itself...alone can make good writing," too many of these conflicts seem to succumb to outside forces beyond the control of their characters. Is not one of the writer's jobs to shine some light in the darkness? Is it not to ignore the fear that may grip the real world, and detail how the world can once again find itself? I feel this is what Faulkner meant when he closed his speech with these words:

"The poet's voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail."

Distractions

The last two weeks have been filled with distractions for my writing and me. Some have been caused by circumstances beyond my control. Some have been caused by my own doings.

The former consisted of my dear nieces, who--up until last night--were staying at my parents' home, along with my sister, her husband, and their dog. The girls liked playing with some of the objects on my desk, but since they are boisterous girls (they are children, after all), any writing I did had to be done before they got home from preschool. Before my sister and brother-in-law went back to work (they work in school systems), I could do little work while they were home. Besides the girls, I also was helping my brother-in-law move items from our house to his new one almost every day after school. Friday I was given a reprieve, but I decided to spend it relaxing, since yesterday was THE BIG MOVE to their new house.

The latter consisted of my not writing during those aforementioned hours, when the house was quiet and nobody was home. I also went out a couple of times during the week, in order to get a break from the high energy level within this house, which has not been seen since my siblings and I were young children.

Despite both kinds of distractions, I did work much of Wednesday on my novel, though the time spent on it that day made up for sporadic work done on it throughout the week. I find that the closer one gets to the end of a draft, the harder it is to write, because now all of the loose ends must be tied up, and the whole must be brought to a satisfactory conclusion. Readers will not forgive a writer for a bad ending, even if the rest of the book is well-written. The hard part is surrendering myself to the ending that the book wants.

I decided when writing the current version of the story that I didn't want a conventional ending, and I still don't. I can't, however, force the ending to be unconventional, just because I wish it. I have certain parameters in which I can work, but the parameters seem to exist between awesome and unbelievable versus believable and boring.

At least now that I have time to write, unrestricted by bedtimes, play times, and such, I should be able to finish off this draft in two weeks or less. Then, I must print it out, revise it again, put the revisions on the computer, and revise it while putting in revisions. After that, I can print out the entire work, put it aside, and work on some short stories.