Joel Arnold's Blog, page 15

Get out your unpubbed disaster stories!

Here's an environmental writing contest that is looking for either a science fiction story or non-fiction piece about an environmental disaster. The deadline is Dec. 11th, so it's coming up FAST! But the prize in each category is $2000. No entry fee.

So if you have something in the hopper that fits their guidelines, why not give it a shot?

Detail here.

Flies, Flies, Spam, and Flies

I went on a 7 day, 120-mile canoe trip down the  

"Tickle Me!"

I've noticed that my son Zachary has been much more interactive with me lately. I'm very thankful and excited about this. In case this is one of your first visits here, Zach is eight-years old and has autism, and he doesn't communicate a whole lot. He hasn't gotten to the point where he'll have a conversation - the times he talks are when he wants something ('Can I play on the computer?') or if he's prompted to say something ('Zach, say goodbye to Grandpa,' etc.) and he's mostly just been happy in his own little world. But lately he's been seeking me (or Melissa or even sometimes his sister Paige) to play with him.  He likes me to tickle him, and he'll come up to me and look me in the eye with anticipation and say, "Tickle me!" and I will, and he'll laugh, and we keep doing this for about 20 minutes before he's had enough and goes on to something else. He does this with Melissa, too, and with Paige, he'll sometimes get her to play chase with him (he likes her to chase him and catch him.) The amount he does this has increased throughout this last year, and damn, am I happy about that.

On Naivete and the Young Writer

I was planning to write an entry on the naivete of younger writers - about how it's important to experience experience experience life to bring wisdom and truth to their writing. I do think that's true to a point.

But...

But as I thought about it, I realized that not all young writers are necessarily naive. I'm guilty of gauging their naivete on my own naivete at those early stages (and boy, was I ever naive - blissfully so!) but -

But...

I was also raised in white middle class suburbia by a loving family. There was no alcoholism, no physical or mental abuse, there was always good food to be eaten, we took our yearly family vacations in whatever model station wagon we had at the time; by the time I was born, my parents were in their early 30's and already fairly well established in their teaching careers. We always had plenty of Christmas presents under the tree. I was never the victim of any significant bullying. I went to middle class public schools, had a middle class girlfriend in high school, with whom I had lots of middle class sex. So in other words, I got nothing to complain about. (although, funny thing, when I look through the journals I kept back then, they are chock-full of 'woe-is-me' -type entries - I did suffer from incredible shyness and social anxiety, but still...)

But still...

There is something vital that young writers bring to the table. Maybe they haven't experienced what it's like to be a parent, or realized that not everyone's dreams come true even if they're really really trying, or how time speeds up exponentially with age, but...

But...

To them the world is still full of possibilities. Maybe they know intellectually they're mortal, but their heart tells them differently. And that can lead to some great writing, just as much as being a world weary and self-perceived wise old geezer can.

John Lennon Tribute at First Avenue

I have rather eclectic musical tastes. I like many types of music, and can find things to like in pretty much any music genre. Although I usually lean toward 'alternative' music, the closest I've come to hero worship of any musician is John Lennon. I've been a fan of The Beatles since the age of 9 (thanks to one of my older brothers) and my favorite of them has always been John. And the older I've gotten, the more I appreciate him and his music. He's had more of an impact on my outlook on life than anyone I can think of (except perhaps my parents.) I was 12 when he was shot, and that affected me for years afterward. Anyway, 1st Avenue - a famous Minneapolis music venue - puts on an annual musical tribute to John Lennon, and I've always heard good things about it. Here's a link to the info:

http://www.first-avenue.com/blog/2010/12/tribute-john-lennon

Hope to see some of you there!

For Writers Looking for some Adventure!

For those writers out there who'd like to try something a little different, here are a couple possibilities:

Are you a fan of National Parks? Why not apply for a writing residency at one of them? (They also look for photographers, sculptors, composers, etc, depending on the park.) This sounds like neat opportunity to stay for free in a National Park, and work on your craft (while also giving a few workshops to the tourists, I'm guessing.) Looks like the residencies vary in length, also depending on the park. Check 'em out here:

http://www.nps.gov/archive/volunteer/air.htm

Then there's this cool contest - a chance to be the official blogger for an expedition to the North pole. It's one of those things where you submit an entry and try to encourage people to vote on yours, and then the one with the most votes get to go with Quark Expeditions on a 2-week expedition to the North Pole. Prize includes ship accommodations for 2, as well as airfare and a couple hotel nights in Finland bookending the trip:

http://www.blogyourwaytothenorthpole.com/

Check 'em out!

Reading/Watching

I'm currently reading Ken Follett's The Pillars of the Earth and am enjoying the heck out of it. Full of lots of rich historical detail, yet it doesn't bog the story down.

I watched the original Godzilla with Paige - well, the original version that appeared in American theaters in 1956 - the version that added in Raymond Burr. Paige and I also watched 1964's Mothra vs. Godzilla (aka Godzilla vs. the Thing). My favorite parts of this second movie were the scenes with the singing twin fairies! Paige enjoyed them. So did I.

I also watched The Decent 2. I really loved the first one, and this one was okay. The thing that is really frightening to me in these movies isn't the creatures so much as the sense of claustrophobia which is portrayed very well.

First Draft Woes

I've been working on a novel for a while now, and I'm still amazed at how every time I write one, it seems like I've forgotten all that I've learned on the previous ones - like I'm starting all over again, full of the same doubts and feelings of being completely overwhelmed. I was about to add that at least since I've written a half-dozen novels before, I know I can do it - but even that's not necessarily true. Can I do it? Am I wasting my time? What if I've already written my best stuff, and all the ingredients that let that happen have since vanished?

In other words, I'm well into my first draft.

I have to constantly remind myself to get the words on paper and not worry about all that other stuff. For me, the magic has always happened in the rewriting. Or maybe when I let it sit, the writing ferments, or ages, and there are little elves who sneak into the pages while I sleep and spruce it up a bit. I don't know. But what I do know is that it's okay to write crap for the first draft. I have to allow myself to write crap and think it's crap (because let's face it, it probably is) and know that the first draft is merely throwing the clay on the wheel. The rewriting is the shaping of it and the smoothing of it and the firing of it and any other turning-clay-into-pottery metaphors you can think of.

But still - it's hard. Oh, wait - if it's clay, then it's fairly soft - hasn't been fired in the kiln, yet. So - um - what was I talking about???

Oh yeah - the first draft. I'm doing my best to make it my bitch.

My usual rider for family and friend party appearances

'As an invited guest to your annual __________ party, here are a few courtesies from my host that I expect - nay, DEMAND! I shall be greeted with a firm handshake, one pump only. If you must look me in the eye, do it with the utmost discretion. Your dogs may sniff me once, twice, thrice, and then begone! Remember, I will only used the finest hand-polished silver, and your china must be of the thinnest bone. When I tap my spoon to my wine glass, it shall make a satisfying ring, only - I repeat ONLY - in the note of G major! Napkin holders must be of crystal and grip the linen napkin firmly, yet not suggestively. Place-card holders should be inscribed in blue ink from the quill of a bird of prey. The exact species of bird is up to you, but the more endangered, the more respect you shall earn. And last but not least,the use of the F-word shall be limited to only two times per sentence; any more than that would be considered rude.'

That's not asking too much is it? Although for some reason, I hardly get asked to parties any more. What the hell???

A couple nice reviews for 'Bedtime Stories...'

Isabel Morales over at The Scattering wrote two very nice reviews for my Bedtime Stories for the Apocalypse. They can be seen HERE and also this spot!