06 December 2018

Prizes



In the world of literature, winning a prize can propel that masterpiece into a flurry of activity and recognition. Books that may have been overlooked entirely, are now jumping hot off the shelves. I was looking at the short listed books on the Man Booker Prize list over the years since 1969 when it was first instituted. I was astounded by how few of the names of winners I recognized: Hilary Mantel, who won twice, John Banville, Yann Martel, Margaret Atwood, Roddy Doyle, Kazuo Ishiguro, and Salmon Rushdie who went on to win the Booker of Bookers for the best of the best awarded in an anniversary year.

I was astounded when I first learned that publishers pay to get their books on the lists of prize contenders. I had thought the process was pure. But nothing is ever that pure, is it? Someone has to run the prize process and so there are costs involved. But to have to pay to be considered is somehow distasteful. Like bribery.

04 December 2018

Cats, books, reality and Edward Gorey


Fascinating read in this week's New Yorker magazine about Edward Gorey whose books I loved when I lived in NY.  I was truly amazed to learn how much I had in common with him. Books and cats are both really important to me. I have five cats at the moment and thousands of books with which I cannot part. I also often wonder if this world we live in is real or sort of a rendition of Twilight Zone. Are we mechanical beings created for the enjoyment of some extraterrestrial being? I have often thought about how strange humans are in construction. To learn that someone else seems to think similarly is alarming, as it might be true after all.

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2018/12/10/edward-goreys-enigmatic-world

16 October 2018

My muse was a feminist


I just recently came across this quote from Joseph Conrad, possibly my great great uncle, whose work I adore and whose style I am studying in earnest as I take on a literary challenge. Thanks dear Uncle Joe. Your family considered itself Polish living in Ukraine. Mine lived in the next village over and considered itself Ukrainian living in Poland. In either case, I am happy to adopt you as my muse as I embark on this new challenge, a historical fiction story about my family's migration during WWII. I hope I can live up to your example.

Being a woman is a terribly difficult task, since it consists principally in dealing with men.

- Joseph Conrad


12 October 2018

Historical fiction

fig. 1
Vic O’Connor
Human art
Yesterday, out of the gloomy grayness, I started writing my mother's story again. Called 'The Unwilling Immigrant', it's the story of wartime migration. This time, I am writing it from scratch as a historical fiction piece. I didn't know I was going to start writing. I just did. Surprise, surprise. And Joseph Conrad is declared my muse.

'All roads are long which lead to one's heart's desire.'

- Joseph Conrad


Meanwhile, tomorrow morning I will attend a workshop supported by the Arts Council called A Poem in a Morning with Alice Kinsella at the Linenhall in Castlebar. I will perhaps finally learn what poetry is and whether some of what I've been writing is indeed considered poetry. 

19 August 2018

Writer's block


I can't believe I haven't written since May. I've written articles for publication and my blog about sailing, but I haven't had much to say about being a writer. I must have writer's block.

19 May 2018

MTV's Daria

She sounds an awful lot like me in high school. I loved that show. My husband thinks it was modeled after me. 



I don't have low self esteem ... I have low esteem for everyone else.

18 May 2018

Proofreader's marks

I love this. Borrowed from Facebook. I love Grant Snider and his Incidental Comics FB page. 



12 May 2018

A note about semicolons...

QUOTATION OF THE DAY

"I’m pretty sure when I need a comma; I’m not so sure about a semicolon."
KEITH HERNANDEZ, a former Mets first baseman who has built a devoted following on social media and written a memoir.


From the New York Times 11/05/18

01 May 2018

Ukrainian Scouting

Vodnyj Tabir c1971 Stillwater Reservoir (I'm on the bottom right.)

In reading an interview with Sylvia Acevedo, the new CEO of Girl Scouts in America, I was reminded of the conundrum of growing up Ukrainian in America. We did not sell cookies. We had wilderness training.

15 April 2018

Blocked

I have never experienced writer's block before, but I have now. I have not been able to write for three weeks. On the 26th of March, our nephew took his own life. Aged only 26, he had been tormented by bipolar disorder of the most severe type for several years. We can only hope he is at peace. I have now written this in his memory.

A boy no more

A little boy brimming with hope
Exuding joy from every pore.
Giggling with puppies, swimming with fish,
Bouncing balls with supernatural skill.
A young boy who wanted nothing but
To make the world a better place for all.
A young man who wanted love
For everyone and everything
And gave his freely to all he beheld.
He loved people, trees and dogs.
He loved to walk in the woods
And swim in the oceans, rivers and lakes.
A spiritual man who believed that
We are here for a higher purpose –
one we have yet to discover.
A kind and gentle spirit who
Took good care of his wellbeing
With natural sustenance and hearty lifestyle
Studied nutrition to discover how
to make the most of this body
that hosts us on our earthly journey.
He cared about all beings with a
Sensitivity that may have overwhelmed
A lesser man than our brave lad.

But the gods are cruel in their own
Cruel way. They shrouded his mind in a
Unnatural sheath that had no adjustments
And came with no instructions.
This semipermeable mem-brain, once light and happy,
Sometimes let much too much pass through,
Other times closed to let nothing in.
From on high, everything was possible.
But nothing begot nothing from below.
Doctors had no answers, only pills and potions.
But medicine didn’t fix things, only plastered over it.
On an even keel was not living.
He tried to deal with it, as only he could.
Searching for answers among those who knew.
And coming back to us from time to time
To give us a momentary glimpse
Of the young lad we knew and loved so dearly.

Yet, life grew more burdensome and
the battle proved too onerous.
Powerful demons devoured his spirit.
Drove him to the cliff’s edge in search
Of a better place, a refuge from the mind
That started out so beautiful and kind
And now was relentless in its daily assault.
What was on the other side, he reckoned,
Must be better than what he suffered here.
One attempt, then two, despite denying all, 
three was the day that we got the call
that our little boy was no more.
His soul took flight into the universe
Unbound by this earth’s crushing weight.

Fly, free spirit, fly, find peace at last. 


bipolar affective disorder

07 March 2018

Lost in Space

I have been trying to settle down to write. All I've been able to manage is short stuff. Articles, my will, blog posts. I am avoiding the big projects. Don't know why. I am spending way too much time on social media. Small wonder given this set of statistics from Statista. What did 60 seconds look like on the Internet? Overwhelming. If I blink, I'll be lost in space forever. How will I ever break away?


31 January 2018

Refugees


Being a child of immigrant refugees, I am perhaps particularly acutely concerned with the issues around immigration reform. Being an immigrant myself, having moved from the US to Ireland, I have a degree of understanding of what it takes to pick up and leave. I did not listen to Trump's State of the Union address but read highlights of the 80 minutes of speech making. I also read Kennedy's response. Kennedy's was so much more uniting and idealistic and hopeful. And then someone posted this poem by Brian Bilston called Refugees. It hit on something I've always said. There's no truth, only a point of view.

22 January 2018

Great review of my novel!

Oh my, a reader has given me the greatest compliment - a 5 star review on Goodreads. I am so honored that Ellen took the time to read and review my book, The Naked Truth. She clearly read every word. Today, I am an author. I am so chuffed, over the moon. Thank you so much, Ellen.


https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2267302785 

"The Naked Truth reads like a fictional travel memoir with a “murderous” twist." 

21 January 2018

Generation-D


Generation  D

I think Boomers should be renamed Generation-D, otherwise known as D-Generation.

  • Our minds and bodies are degenerating
  • Our political, religious and business leaders are being exposed as degenerates
  • Our actions are causing degeneration of the climate and the earth
If that isn't enough... aren't we the earth's most degenerative invasive species with trigger-happy little fingers on the destruct button? Yep, Gen-D. 

Oh yeah, and they're also talking about Gen-D(igital) which transcends age and humanity. Do you get the sense that I'm feeling a little SAD?

12 January 2018

Genius

I am not a genius.
- Albert Einstein

I am not a genius.
- R. Buckminster Fuller

I am not a genius.
- Steve Jobs

I am a very stable genius.
- Donald J. Trump