Sappy Endings

Once again, I have disappeared from my blog for an extended period of time. Since the last time I wrote, I have completed my MFA program and will walk in graduation at the end of the month. My final residency was at the beginning of June. It was so much fun, but also a little bittersweet. Here's the quick wrap-up of the culmination of two insanely busy and wonderful years.

On the first day of the residency (for the 5th semester students, everyone else had been there for several days already), I gave my reading. I wasn't really nervous about it, but still, it's never easy to follow the super-talented poet, Philip Belcher. Mostly, it was just a fun time, though. I got to share a selection from my thesis and listen to two of my ridiculously talented classmates read from theirs. Steve and Lucy Addison came, though Lucy Addison spent the reading hanging out in the lobby with Rick, the program director/founder.

After the student readings and dinner, I stayed for the faculty reading - Susan Tekulve and Robert Olmstead - both of whom were wonderful. Despite my determination to leave as soon as the reading was over, I ended up staying and chatting until much later than I should. As I drove home, the unsettling feeling that I had been trying to shake all day completely took over. The first student craft lectures (ever) were in the morning, and I was up first. Though I had been working on my craft lecture for ages, I still felt unprepared and unhappy with my lecture. I decided to rewrite/restructure my lecture no matter how long it took. (My lecture was scheduled for 9 in the morning!)

Sometime after 2 am, I declared my craft lecture done, and I felt about fifty pounds lighter. I may not have slept long, but at least it was untroubled sleep. I won't say I was nervous as I got up to give my lecture, but it was a weird feeling being first. Sure, there are fewer expectations if you're first, but still, if you're spectacularly bad and first, people are probably going to remember that.

Overall, I was pleased with how my lecture turned out. Certainly there were things that I wished I had said better or points I wish I had made (as soon as I sat down, they all flooded my brain.) But it could have been worse. I even held my own against a particularly persistent questioner, and at one point, one of my previous faculty mentors came to my rescue. The best part of going first, however, was that I then got to just sit back and enjoy the rest of the residency. I was done. I floated from event to event.

The remaining time was a blur of readings, lectures, and spending time with friends. The final night, we had a dinner to celebrate graduation followed by a party with the band, The Wheresville Project. There was much dancing (though not by me - I spared them that.) It was all fun and sad at the same time. There is something about the low-residency program that fosters relationships that are far closer than would be expected from such a short amount of time together. Maybe it's due to the intensity of the 9-day residencies. Whatever the cause of the closeness, it was sad to think that we won't be seeing each other anymore.

Since the end of the residency, my life has been a crazy blur. I've barely had time to process the end of six consecutive years of school. It all still seems a little unreal. Vacation Bible School began almost immediately after the residency and was followed closely by our annual pilgrimage to visit family in Maryland. Upon returning home, I received a package in the mail - my bound copy of my thesis. I didn't expect to be so excited to see my thesis bound, but there was something powerful about holding that book. I can't explain it, so I won't try.

Now begins the really hard part: keeping up with the writing life after school. It's easier to write regularly when you have deadlines that you have to meet. There are no deadlines anymore. Wait a minute. That's not true. My faculty mentor, Leslie Pietrzyk, has said that she expects me to finish my novel this year. So, I guess that's my deadline. Better get writing.

Catching Up Is Hard To Do

So it's time for a monster mega catch up blog. This marks the first residency (January 2011) that I didn't dedicate at least one entry to all the great things that happened there. Of course, that is not a reflection on the quality of the residency. There were so many wonderful readings and lectures and so much fun time with friends, but life has just been a little crazy since then, and it just never happened. So, here's my life in summary since my last blog entry from a date too distant to mention.

Third Semester of my MFA? Check! I have completed my critical paper ("The Voice in the Walls: The Femininity of Alternative Narrative Structure in the Work of Lorrie Moore", and no the title's NOT longer than the paper.) I have also cranked out more than 100 pages toward my thesis. Yes, there was much panicking, crying, and more than a few late nights, but I am three quarters of the way through my Masters!

The first Christmas with The Queen of Everything was everything I'd hoped (and a little more.) There was present unwrapping and macaroni and cheese eating and lots of pictures and video. Christmas just got a whole lot more fun with the addition of Lucy Addison, and I can only imagine how big of a blast we'll have next year.

Residency #4? Survived. Yes, I have completed my final full-length residency. I can hardly believe it myself, and I was there. There are so many wonderful things I could say about this residency, but I'll limit myself to these. Workshop gets better every semester as the program adds more and more talented students, and I learn so much from my fellow students. It's always encouraging and humbling to see how talented your classmates are. Also I found out I get to work with the always amazing, Leslie Pietrzyk, for my final semester, and I am so excited. I know I'm good hands as I revise and rethink my thesis.

January Madness and the 1st birthday. Despite my hopes to the contrary, things have not exactly slowed down since the holidays and residency ended. My life has been a series of appointments, visiting relatives, party planning, and a blizzard (well, by Southern terms, anyway.) The Queen's first birthday was a smashing success, with a houseful of 30+ people wedged into our 1700 sq ft house, and I'm still managing to squeeze my writing and reading into my schedule (somewhere.)

Now that you're dizzied by my seriously abbreviated version of the last two months, I'll share some words of wisdom...okay, just words. I've learned a few things about myself over the past few months. They are as follows:

1. One year olds are far more fun and entertaining than little babies. They also serve as greater distractions from things like schoolwork.

2. After months of research for my critical paper, I've discovered that I LOVE reading articles on literary criticism (and feminist criticism, in particular.) I just can't get enough of it .

3. I'm always going to dress like a school librarian, so I need to give up wishing I could look like my friends who've mastered Bohemian chic. I got rid of masses of clothing and purchased quite a few new things. Here's a surprise, they look like my old stuff, just newer.

Okay, so enough with this disjointed mess of a blog entry. You've been officially caught up. Here's keeping our fingers crossed for a more consistent blogging schedule in 2011! Want a sneak peek at future blog topics (tentative)? Well, how about zombie theory, more movie reviews, and a progress update on my thesis? I know right now you're positively panting with excitement, right? Or not.

Moore Work (Pardon My Pun)

The work continues. I have had to give up on the whole writing-during-the day thing for a while. I've always worked better at night, but before the baby got here, I could make myself eek out a little work during the day. Now that Lucy Addison is here and demanding more and more of my daylight hours, I find that whatever daytime concentration I'd been able to muster in the past has now completely disappeared. After two weeks of trying to be the disciplined, dedicated writer who gets up and writes before her child is awake, I've had to resort to writing at night while she is asleep. The downside is that evenings are also the time when Steve is home. Oh well, I suppose we're must suffer for our art, right? And besides, it gives Steve a chance to play Red Dead Redemption, and, after all, we must have priorities. Video game banditos need love, too.

In addition to my creative work (I'm still plugging away on the old novella), I am also trying to finish up the books I'm reading for my critical paper this term. I believe I mentioned this before, but in case you're just tuning in, I am [planning on] writing my critical paper on non-linear narratives in twentieth century lit with female authors, and more specifically, Lorrie Moore. So far I have read, Self-Help, Anagrams, Like Life, Who Will Run the Frog Hospital, and I'm about half-way through Birds of America. After I finish it up, I will only have A Gate at the Stairs left to go.

So far, I am loving her work. Like Life was probably my least favorite thus far (and also the least related to my critical project), but I am IN LOVE with Self-Help and Anagrams. It is almost unfortunate that I am not writing my paper on her use of word play because, quite frankly, her word play is AMAZING! Not only does she do really subtle stuff in the narration, but her characters are very intelligent and witty, and they make hilarious puns and turns of phrase that resonate with so many layers of meaning. Wait a minute. Can layers resonate? So maybe the cold medicine is kicking in a bit...never mind me. Lorrie Moore's words, metaphors, connotations, and references are brilliant. I swear that if I went through her stuff with a flourescent highlighter marking every time she blew me away with her mastery of the English language, the books would glow in the dark.

Besides her word play, an aspect most impressive to me is her use of the second person in Self-Help. She manages to write successful second person stories that are also entertaining and moving - not just exercises in edginess. This is a feat I've rarely seen accomplished so elegantly - though Leslie Pietrzyk's "Ten Things" would also fall in that amazing second person story category.

Of course, all of these aspects, though very intriguing, have little to do with my paper, which is about non-linear narratives. She does do some pretty impressive things with her handling of time in her stories, and I look forward to exploring that in more depth. So thanks to Bob Olmstead for nudging me toward such an amazing writer.

Wibbly Wobbly Time-y Wimey - MFA Summer Residency 2010

I logged onto my blog today to do my MFA Summer Residency entry and discovered that I haven't posted since April. While I knew I'd been laying low in blogland while I finished up my second semester work, I had no idea I'd been so negligent. I really must try to do better...especially since I met several people over the past month or two who actually read my blog....people I'd never met. At this residency, I got to have the completely unnerving experience of meeting someone and having them say, "Oh, I know you. I've read your blog." Talk about inequity. This total stranger knows all kinds of stuff about you, and you know absolutely nothing about them. I got over the weirdness, though, and it was pretty cool to know somebody reads this.

Back to the residency. For all those interested (and even if you're not), I am officially halfway through my Master's. Of course, the biggest chunk of work remains, but if I can get through a semester that included a newborn baby, I can survive anything. This term, in addition to my creative work, I will be completing a 25-page critical paper which will serve as the basis for the craft lecture I'll present at the fifth and final residency. After a lot of thinking and some consulting with my faculty mentor (more about him later), I have narrowed the subject matter of my paper (a bit) to an exploration of time and non-linear narratives in the work of fiction writer Lorrie Moore. I'm really excited about my topic since it's something I've been exploring in my smaller critical papers over the last two semesters.

With each semester, I am assigned a new faculty mentor. The first semester it was the amazing Leslie Pietrzyk, and last semester, I had RT Smith (also amazing.) This term I will be working with Robert Olmstead. In addition to meeting with him regarding our semester plans, he also ran the workshop for our half of the fiction group. Allow me to describe the Bob Olmstead fiction workshop experience...no wait, I can't. The man is, for lack of a better word, intense. His insights and advice were spot on, but you'd be hard pressed to find a more deep discussion of the ethics, morals, and philosphies of the characters, stories, etc. Between the laser precision of his story dissection and the hours-long novella (out loud!) readings we did, we all (Bob included) were wiped out every day at the end of our sessions. I feel like I learned so much that I need a little rest before I can really understand how much I learned. And yes, I realize that sentence doesn't make much sense...except maybe to the three other people from my workshop.

Residency isn't all work, however. We had readings every night, both faculty and student. Of particular note were Leslie's next installment of her novel in progress (hurry up and finish it so we can READ IT!), Dan Wakefield's touching reading of a chapter from his book-in-progress, and fellow student Kate's AMAZING reading the last night of residency. The great and powerful LUCY ADDISON also made her Converse College MFA program debut on the final night. Alas, she didn't give a reading.

The best part of residency is getting to see all my writing friends. As a writer, you are often isolated from others of similar interests, and so when we get together we all talk like mad to get all the literary fellowship stored up until next time. The process of workshop is intensely personal, and a special bond forms between fellow students as we dissect each other's creations, trying to be helpful while treading lightly on each other's feelings.

Now, it's the hard part - buckling down and doing the work....and maybe remembering to do a blog entry or two.

Tight Schedules and Tighter Shoes: MFA Winter Residency Part One

I realized this morning that I have been missing from blogland for nearly a month, and what a month it has been. I went to Maryland for a week to visit family and just missed their record-breaking Christmas blizzard. I celebrated Christmas with Steve in a very quiet, laid-back way, and that was followed by a less than stellar new year as we lost our precious cat, Hobson to cancer and congestive heart failure. So while champagne was already off the menu for the New Year celebrations this year, it wasn't exactly with sparkling grape juice and noisemakers that we welcomed in 2010.

On a happier note, January 2nd meant the return to school as the Winter Residency began. Since Saturday (Jan 2), I haven't stopped. My life has been a whirlwind of lectures, readings, workshops, and traipsing across campus in the coldest weather Spartanburg has seen in a decade. A fine time to have ridiculously cold weather - when I'm too big to button my coat! The good news is that the program director has worked in a nice little break into the middle of all this craziness, so today I can (quite literally) put my feet up for a few hours, do some writing assignments, and just enjoy my home furnace and humidifier. I even have a nice, warm cat (Abby Tabby) cuddled beside me to keep me warm. Of course, I'll be back at school tonight for a showing of the film adaptation of Dan Wakefield's New York in the Fifties, but I'll be refreshed and ready to go by then. Besides, I'm really looking forward to the film, and Steve has promised to go with me.

Being pregnant during the residency has certainly made it more challenging, but I don't mean to imply that it's been 5 days of torture. The lectures have been great, and the faculty and fellow students are amazing. There have been plenty of highlights (or hi-lites, as I saw on a beauty shop sign near my house yesterday) to celebrate.

• RT Smith, editor of Shenandoah (and my mentor this semester!) gave a reading of his new fiction on Saturday night, including a Southern re-telling of Rumplestiltskin.


• Sarah Kennedy's lecture on the prosy poem. I will now think of her at every poetry reading I attend, wondering if the next poem will "outstrip" me or simply take me along for the ride. Here's hoping for the former rather than the latter.


• Leslie Pietrzyk's (my fantastic former mentor) lecture on finding the story in your novel or short story. I love the practical way in which Leslie approaches writing. She always has such amazing tips and tricks to suggest, and it's so comforting to know that a writer of her caliber has to work hard and use tips and tricks, too.


• Having a 3 hour gab session with my favorite fellow student at Jason's Deli. I think we solved the problems of the world and completely dissembled each other's workshop pieces. Good times!


• Peter Meinke's reading of his poem about the undercover poetry reader.


• Tim McKee's (editor of Sun Magazine) lecture on "Surfacing Pearls" where he actually gave us lists of what he looks for as an editor and what not to do in your stories. Way to be the first editor/speaker we've had that was willing to be that specific!


• C. Michael Curtis' reading of some of the crazy cover letters he's received as editor of the Atlantic Monthly.


• Looking at really, really old issues of Concept while taking a workshop break in the Coker Room.

Today, I enjoyed a bit of a lie-in and a little blogging time, and this afternoon I have lots of writing to do after my weekly doctor's appointment. Here's hoping I'm able to write my re-imagining of "Hills Like White Elephants" and my point-of-view switch exercises before heading to the movie. Tomorrow it's back to the insanity, and Friday I get workshopped. I better start psyching myself up now.

Critical Condition

For the past four years, I have been the thick-skinned, tough who could take anything in workshop. You don't like my story? No problem. Hate the language or structure of my poem? Water off a duck's back. I could take the helpful advice and shrug off the dross. I was made of steel (for the most part, anyway.) I even held my own in the blood bath that was my first MFA residency workshop. I survived being told by a professor that there's no such thing as a successful child narrator. (Poor Laura and her pastoral musings.)

So what happened to that person? When did I change into this puddle of needy goo? I've already written about my struggle with the voices in my head (critics, not crazy voices) that were slowing down my writing. Unfortunately, the craziness doesn't stop there. After receiving the critiques of my first two packets from my professor, I completely melted down. Both times.

So what changed? I've decided it's a medical condition. To quote one of my favorite tv shows, I'm in the Jon Voight way (think Alien,) and it's starting to affect my brain. I've heard of women complaining of pregnancy brain, forgetting everything from their keys to the names of their children. I haven't forgotten anything (yet, don't worry, I'm not being smug), but I have morphed into an overly-sensitive, emotional wreck. To those considering an MFA program, may I suggest that pregnancy hormones and professor critiques are a lethal combination.

After packet #2 came back, I ended up on the phone with the long-suffering Steve crying because there was nothing in the house that I wanted to eat and Leslie hated my story. Sure this was an overstatement. Yes, I knew it was crazy and irrational while I saying it. Didn't matter. It took me a good two days to recover from that little episode. Then I had to psyche myself up for packet #3.

Fast forward to today. I got my email from my professor regarding my third packet, which contained a rewrite of the story from packet #2. I did better this time. I was actually able to focus mostly on the good stuff she said in the opening paragraph of her critique, rather than the two pages of suggestions. Maybe I'm growing. No wait, that's just my waistline.

Hello Goodbye

I am wondering where September is going. Things are going crazy fast, and this is a short month. I feel like I just turned in MFA packet #2, and I'm already worrying about the next one due September 25th! The scariest thing about time flying is that the faster it goes, the more pregnant I get. I'll be 16 weeks on Friday! That's freaking me out just a bit. At this rate, February will be here in the blink of an eye (pardon my cliche.) Lots of schoolwork to do between now and then, so it's a little scary.

On the upside, I finally finished all my Flannery O'Connor reading today (FINALLY!) Don't get me wrong...I love her. I was just in O'Connor overload. Now, I'm finally getting to the part of my reading list that I've been waiting to read. First on the agenda? Amy Tan's Joy Luck Club. I love Amy Tan, so I'm very excited about this book. I started today after I finished with O'Connor, and I've already soared through a big chunk of the book. After that it's Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried and Jhumpa Lahiri's Unaccustomed Earth (thanks to Leslie for letting me put that one on my reading list.) I'm so excited about all three, so knocking them out before the October deadline should be a breeze.

On a completely unrelated note, today (technically yesterday according to the clock) marks the release of all things Beatles. Beatles Rock Band is being released, and in conjunction with that, they are also releasing remastered versions of all their albums. Being Rock Band junkies, we already had our copy of Beatles Rock Band on reserve, and Steve picked it up on his way home from work. He then proceeded to play like a man possessed. He didn't even stop for dinner. Now that's devotion. The game was great, though. The songs are divided up into the years in which they were released, and the venues coincide with the years. For example, the early songs are performed in The Cavern, and the two American venues are Shea Stadium and the Ed Sullivan Show. We played drums, we sang, and we strummed on our fake plastic guitars. John Lennon is probably rolling over in his grave after my performance of "Twist and Shout," but hey, it was fun.

As with all our previous Rock Band fests, the cats remained unmoved as the music blared through the living room, rattling both furniture and bones. It doesn't faze them anymore. I'd like to think they were just chilling out to the mellow notes of "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," but I think it's more likely that they've just grown numb. Good thing. We've got a Beatles party coming up, and they need to be ready.

Bittersweet Chocolate

I take it all back. For the past week, I've been complaining about our homework in Fiction Tutorial. Our professor assigned us one of those eavesdropping dialogue exercises, and I HATE those. I don't like eavesdropping, and I never hear anything good (dialogue-wise, not good as in juicy.) Consequently, I've been putting it off. So today (the day before it's due), I had to buckle down and get it done. I treated myself to lunch at Monsoon Noodle House and set to eavesdropping. Once again, I didn't hear much, but I did hear one or two phrases that triggered something in my mind. I threw in a few phrases/sentences I heard people say over the weekend, and then I got to work on the scene we were assigned to write using the at least 4 of the collected phrases. I can't believe it, but I actually got a useful scene to go in my linked sequence of stories! I'm so excited. What's really great is that the scene is not from one of the four stories I'm working on for Senior Seminar. It's actually from later in the sequence...stuff I'll need in order to continue working on this sequence once I graduate.


Speaking of graduation, it's getting to be that time...time to think about life after I graduate. On the surface, I'm too excited for words. I'm doing all the graduation things that all the "traditional" graduates do. I got my Senior pictures taken. I even got a class ring. Senior trappings aside, however, there is a lot to take in. First, there is graduate school to think about...where to apply, hoping I'll get in, hoping I'll be able to produce high quality work once I get in...will I be uncovered as a fraud who actually shouldn't be allowed to write an email, let alone a work of fiction? Then there's life after Converse. I've gotten really spoiled by my time there. Every day, I get to go to a place where all the professors are there to help and support you, and I am surrounded by other women with the same interests and drives as mine. We can talk about one short story for three times longer than it took to read it, and rip apart each other's work and still be friends. Most of the other creative writing majors are traditional aged students, and they don't seem to realize what they have there. I've been out in the work world, the real world, for lack of a better term, and it's nothing like the cozy, cocoon that is college. There may not be much time left in my final year, but I'm going to soak up every last minute of it.


Tomorrow night is our final Fiction Tutorial class, and I am so sad. Leslie Pietrzyk has been wonderful, and I have learned so much in one short month. I know I have some awesome classes waiting for me in Spring Term, but I really hate to see this month end. (Okay, it probably has a little to do with the fact that I only have class once a week right now, but it's the quality of the class, too.) I'm just hoping that Senior Seminar will be a kind of continuation of this past month - great discussions, amazing one-on-one time with my professor, and crazy progress on my stories. In the meantime, we'll celebrate tomorrow night with fiction and brownie bars.