Jennifer R. Hubbard's Blog, page 36
December 18, 2014
A new story
The excitement of putting a story out into the world never gets old.
My latest arrival is a short-story chapbook, part of The Head & The Hand Press's project to put chapbooks into a school (specifically, the Science Leadership Academy). CBS Philly did a story on the chapbook project.
"In Memory of Lester" is the sometimes humorous, sometimes serious, story of a very unusual memorial.
I'm honored to be part of a series that also features Tara Altebrando, Melissa Sarno, Autumn Konopka, Robert Marx, Eliza Martins, Ruby Jane Anderson, and Lilliam Rivera.
If you're interested, my chapbook and the rest in the series are available here, along with the rest of the offerings from The Head & The Hand Press.
My latest arrival is a short-story chapbook, part of The Head & The Hand Press's project to put chapbooks into a school (specifically, the Science Leadership Academy). CBS Philly did a story on the chapbook project.
"In Memory of Lester" is the sometimes humorous, sometimes serious, story of a very unusual memorial.
I'm honored to be part of a series that also features Tara Altebrando, Melissa Sarno, Autumn Konopka, Robert Marx, Eliza Martins, Ruby Jane Anderson, and Lilliam Rivera.
If you're interested, my chapbook and the rest in the series are available here, along with the rest of the offerings from The Head & The Hand Press.
December 15, 2014
Older books worth another look
These books were all published quite a while ago, but they say that what goes around comes around. Or everything old is new again. Or something.
I think these could serve as interesting springboards to discussions of current events:
1984, by George Orwell. This novel, considered a futuristic dystopian when it was written, is newly relevant. Orwell paints a picture of a society with constant surveillance, political doublespeak, revisionist history, and the end of privacy.
Main Street, by Sinclair Lewis. This story takes place in the World War I era, yet the divide that we would now call red-state/blue-state is exemplified in this story of a marriage in a small town. Are we too polarized to ever get along?
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, by Betty Smith. I've been considering doing a blog read-along of this one. It also takes place in the World War I era, yet the economic struggles of its main characters are part of many families' stories nowadays. This is also a book with the "strong female characters" readers look for today.
David Copperfield, Oliver Twist, or A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens. News reports can go on and on about wealth inequality, the rise of homelessness, and the burden of debt, but I wonder if any of that has the same impact as the classic scene of Oliver Twist begging for more gruel in the orphanage. I could have put almost any Dickens book on this list; he continually brought readers unflinchingly to the workhouses, the debtor's prisons, the factories that used child labor, and the street corners and haystacks where the homeless sleep. Oliver Twist is probably the most muddled of these books; having created sympathy for his gangs of young characters driven to thievery and prostitution, Dickens seemed troubled by the morality of having a thief as a hero. Therefore, Oliver improbably reforms by falling into prayer in the middle of a burglary, and the novel eventually veers away from him altogether, as Dickens became more fascinated by the fatal relationship between Sikes and Nancy. (However, Dickens did give the Artful Dodger some eloquent parting words on the brutality of the criminal justice system.) A Christmas Carol probably hammers home most directly the hazards of trying to live without a living wage, and the need for compassion.
What other classics do you think can speak anew to us today?
I think these could serve as interesting springboards to discussions of current events:
1984, by George Orwell. This novel, considered a futuristic dystopian when it was written, is newly relevant. Orwell paints a picture of a society with constant surveillance, political doublespeak, revisionist history, and the end of privacy.
Main Street, by Sinclair Lewis. This story takes place in the World War I era, yet the divide that we would now call red-state/blue-state is exemplified in this story of a marriage in a small town. Are we too polarized to ever get along?
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, by Betty Smith. I've been considering doing a blog read-along of this one. It also takes place in the World War I era, yet the economic struggles of its main characters are part of many families' stories nowadays. This is also a book with the "strong female characters" readers look for today.
David Copperfield, Oliver Twist, or A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens. News reports can go on and on about wealth inequality, the rise of homelessness, and the burden of debt, but I wonder if any of that has the same impact as the classic scene of Oliver Twist begging for more gruel in the orphanage. I could have put almost any Dickens book on this list; he continually brought readers unflinchingly to the workhouses, the debtor's prisons, the factories that used child labor, and the street corners and haystacks where the homeless sleep. Oliver Twist is probably the most muddled of these books; having created sympathy for his gangs of young characters driven to thievery and prostitution, Dickens seemed troubled by the morality of having a thief as a hero. Therefore, Oliver improbably reforms by falling into prayer in the middle of a burglary, and the novel eventually veers away from him altogether, as Dickens became more fascinated by the fatal relationship between Sikes and Nancy. (However, Dickens did give the Artful Dodger some eloquent parting words on the brutality of the criminal justice system.) A Christmas Carol probably hammers home most directly the hazards of trying to live without a living wage, and the need for compassion.
What other classics do you think can speak anew to us today?
December 13, 2014
Winter walks
Winter is a turning-inward time; the sun rises late and sets early; the air chills; the sky spits nasty bits of ice. Yet I enjoy a daily walk out there, among the bare trees, through the quiet brown landscape.
The land is only asleep. And who couldn't use a bit of rest?
The land is only asleep. And who couldn't use a bit of rest?
December 11, 2014
The writing space
Jenny Gordon writes of redecorating her writing room to make it more conducive to writing. "Our writing spaces are precious. ... We are invoking magic when we tap into our well of creativity, and we need to create our sacred space in which to do that."
I can write almost anywhere when I have to, but my favorite place to write is in my home office. These are the comforts that make it welcoming:
--Stereo next to me, for music. Or I can click open iTunes on my computer.
--Chocolate supply in desk drawer.
--Bookcases full of books.
--A window right in front of my desk. Some people advise against such a setup, saying that the window is too distracting. I love having the window here. I can see the weather, the change of the seasons, some birds and squirrels. (Once a bat even roosted on my window screen.) When I have to look away from my computer to think for a minute, I have something to look at. Yet it's not overly distracting, since the view is mostly of tree branches.
--A bed. Handy for putting stuff on top of, and for lounging with a book when the day's writing is done.
--Posters. I have several and can change them around. Right now I have a mountain view on one wall and a vase of flowers on the other.
This is the room where I've written all three of my published books. When my husband and I first started house-shopping, I told him that one of my requirements was to have a writing space of my own. This is one of my favorite places.
I can write almost anywhere when I have to, but my favorite place to write is in my home office. These are the comforts that make it welcoming:
--Stereo next to me, for music. Or I can click open iTunes on my computer.
--Chocolate supply in desk drawer.
--Bookcases full of books.
--A window right in front of my desk. Some people advise against such a setup, saying that the window is too distracting. I love having the window here. I can see the weather, the change of the seasons, some birds and squirrels. (Once a bat even roosted on my window screen.) When I have to look away from my computer to think for a minute, I have something to look at. Yet it's not overly distracting, since the view is mostly of tree branches.
--A bed. Handy for putting stuff on top of, and for lounging with a book when the day's writing is done.
--Posters. I have several and can change them around. Right now I have a mountain view on one wall and a vase of flowers on the other.
This is the room where I've written all three of my published books. When my husband and I first started house-shopping, I told him that one of my requirements was to have a writing space of my own. This is one of my favorite places.
December 7, 2014
Mystical grape
I could probably write at length about color names in catalogs, and how they can be little poems in themselves.
For now, I'll just note that Lands' End has a color called "mystical grape." And that I envisioned a children's picture book titled, The Adventures of the Mystical Grape.
For now, I'll just note that Lands' End has a color called "mystical grape." And that I envisioned a children's picture book titled, The Adventures of the Mystical Grape.
December 5, 2014
Short and sweet
Jenny Gordon has been hosting a weekly writing exercise, 50-word vignettes, on her blog. She posts a topic (usually it's one word), and we write on that. I've enjoyed it because of my passion for very short fiction (and nonfiction). Also because I like the quickness, the doesn't-have-to-be-perfect, aspect of writing exercises. Here are a few of the prompts and the way I responded to them:
Prompt: Toolbox
I made the wooden toolbox for my dad but it sat, unused, on the shelf in his workshop. He kept using this old tackle box instead. Finally I said, "How come you hate the toolbox I made you?" His face wrinkled. He rubbed the side of the box, which I'd sweated over, sanding it to silk. "It's too good to use," he said.
Prompt: Circus
We juggle staplers, mouse pads, pens. We hold paper clips in our mouths. We slide under the desks to jiggle the power cords back to life. Cutbacks, they say; more layoffs are coming. They pile more work on our desks. Don't expect a safety net either, they tell us.
Prompt: Second chance
The next flip of the coin
Erases the first; heads
Turning tails, the do-over,
The rewrite, the mulligan.
Nobody's looking. Flip
Until you get the answer
You want.
Prompt: Safe
You said it would be safe, the branch was sturdy. "Look," you said, your heels planted on the wood, flexing your knees. The branch trembled but held. You extended your hand. I laced my fingers in yours and stepped out. With a crack, the wood splintered.
If you want to read more, check out the vignettes on Jenny's blog. If you want to play along, join in on Fridays.
Prompt: Toolbox
I made the wooden toolbox for my dad but it sat, unused, on the shelf in his workshop. He kept using this old tackle box instead. Finally I said, "How come you hate the toolbox I made you?" His face wrinkled. He rubbed the side of the box, which I'd sweated over, sanding it to silk. "It's too good to use," he said.
Prompt: Circus
We juggle staplers, mouse pads, pens. We hold paper clips in our mouths. We slide under the desks to jiggle the power cords back to life. Cutbacks, they say; more layoffs are coming. They pile more work on our desks. Don't expect a safety net either, they tell us.
Prompt: Second chance
The next flip of the coin
Erases the first; heads
Turning tails, the do-over,
The rewrite, the mulligan.
Nobody's looking. Flip
Until you get the answer
You want.
Prompt: Safe
You said it would be safe, the branch was sturdy. "Look," you said, your heels planted on the wood, flexing your knees. The branch trembled but held. You extended your hand. I laced my fingers in yours and stepped out. With a crack, the wood splintered.
If you want to read more, check out the vignettes on Jenny's blog. If you want to play along, join in on Fridays.
November 30, 2014
Keep or let go?
In weeding my (overabundant) possessions, I've had to make decisions about reading material. For most of my life, I held on to almost any book or magazine that came my way. I've always been a big re-reader, so this made sense. It wasn't until I was an adult with means that my ability to acquire books outpaced my ability to store them.
For the past few years, I have been donating or trading books, and discarding magazines. I didn't have many books that were easy to let go of; chances are, if I disliked a book that much, I never brought it into my house to begin with. Most of the books that are here, I deliberately chose to bring in.
At this point, reverting to an electronic library isn't an option for me. I own a few ebooks, but I've discovered that I vastly prefer reading print on paper. Maybe that will change someday, but I must deal with the reality of the moment.
It's getting easier to let go of things in general. And as my friend Kelly Fineman points out, if you pass along something you don't really need, you enable someone who really wants or needs it to find it. Still, I hang on to a lot.
Today, I realized that perhaps I can simplify book weeding with this question: Do I ever want to read this again?
It seems rather self-evident, but I haven't been quite so simple and direct with my weeding criteria before. I would look at a book, thinking how much I liked it, how much I learned from it, who gave it to me or when/where I bought it, etc., and then I would try to summon a gut feeling for "keep or give away." I would try to anticipate how regretful I might be if I let it go. I never identified a specific rule for what would make me keep something.
There are a few books I hold onto for sentimental reasons (special gifts, mostly). But my new goal is for almost every book or magazine in my house to meet this criterion: I want to read it again.
That question has already helped me pack up a donation box today.
For the past few years, I have been donating or trading books, and discarding magazines. I didn't have many books that were easy to let go of; chances are, if I disliked a book that much, I never brought it into my house to begin with. Most of the books that are here, I deliberately chose to bring in.
At this point, reverting to an electronic library isn't an option for me. I own a few ebooks, but I've discovered that I vastly prefer reading print on paper. Maybe that will change someday, but I must deal with the reality of the moment.
It's getting easier to let go of things in general. And as my friend Kelly Fineman points out, if you pass along something you don't really need, you enable someone who really wants or needs it to find it. Still, I hang on to a lot.
Today, I realized that perhaps I can simplify book weeding with this question: Do I ever want to read this again?
It seems rather self-evident, but I haven't been quite so simple and direct with my weeding criteria before. I would look at a book, thinking how much I liked it, how much I learned from it, who gave it to me or when/where I bought it, etc., and then I would try to summon a gut feeling for "keep or give away." I would try to anticipate how regretful I might be if I let it go. I never identified a specific rule for what would make me keep something.
There are a few books I hold onto for sentimental reasons (special gifts, mostly). But my new goal is for almost every book or magazine in my house to meet this criterion: I want to read it again.
That question has already helped me pack up a donation box today.
November 28, 2014
Peaceful times
Thanksgiving is a time when I like to be contemplative, to slow down and think.
A few things that aid me in this:
1. The cat. There's something about the pace with which he moves when he is grooming himself that seems to slow down time. He gives full attention to each paw, each ear. He never hurries. He is completely calm.
2. The woods. I've always found trees to be wonderful companions. They are silent, or maybe their leaves rustle a bit; they provide shade. They filter light. The provide carpets of leaves or needles. Some of them flower or fruit. They have a sturdiness, a solidity.
3. The ocean. Immense, salty, with waves as regular as breathing. I never tire of watching it or listening to it.
4. Waking up slowly. It's such a blessing not to have to jump out of bed at the blare of the alarm clock. To come out of sleep gradually, to file away the night's dreams and set my waking thoughts in order.
5. Walking. My general practice is to walk at least a mile a day, farther on weekends and other days when I don't have to work my day job. Walking is meditative. I don't bring cell phones, music, or any gadgets with me, so that I can fully engage with my own thoughts or the world around me.
What helps you slow down, relax, be fully present?
A few things that aid me in this:
1. The cat. There's something about the pace with which he moves when he is grooming himself that seems to slow down time. He gives full attention to each paw, each ear. He never hurries. He is completely calm.
2. The woods. I've always found trees to be wonderful companions. They are silent, or maybe their leaves rustle a bit; they provide shade. They filter light. The provide carpets of leaves or needles. Some of them flower or fruit. They have a sturdiness, a solidity.
3. The ocean. Immense, salty, with waves as regular as breathing. I never tire of watching it or listening to it.
4. Waking up slowly. It's such a blessing not to have to jump out of bed at the blare of the alarm clock. To come out of sleep gradually, to file away the night's dreams and set my waking thoughts in order.
5. Walking. My general practice is to walk at least a mile a day, farther on weekends and other days when I don't have to work my day job. Walking is meditative. I don't bring cell phones, music, or any gadgets with me, so that I can fully engage with my own thoughts or the world around me.
What helps you slow down, relax, be fully present?
November 26, 2014
Out of order
Writing is, among other things, an attempt to make sense of the world. To find meaning, or at least patterns.
Our storytelling may be less about what happened, or when, than about why and how. How did we get here? What does it mean?
On chronology, Beth Kephart says this:
"How many times, in class, to students, to writers, have I said: Don't tell me the story in a straight line. Break the grid. Steer your way toward wisdom by scrambling the sequence of facts."
She goes on to quote Abigail Thomas on the pitfalls of chronology, in a blog post worth reading.
Our storytelling may be less about what happened, or when, than about why and how. How did we get here? What does it mean?
On chronology, Beth Kephart says this:
"How many times, in class, to students, to writers, have I said: Don't tell me the story in a straight line. Break the grid. Steer your way toward wisdom by scrambling the sequence of facts."
She goes on to quote Abigail Thomas on the pitfalls of chronology, in a blog post worth reading.
November 23, 2014
Getting to know characters
Today I wrote more than a thousand words for a work in progress. None of which will appear in the manuscript itself.
I was working on a draft and realized that I was having a hard time getting a grip on an important character. I had trouble writing her end of the dialogue because I wasn't sure what she was thinking and feeling. I also didn't know much about her talents, goals, and fears.
I could keep plunging forward with the point-of-view character, could keep running with the plot, but this secondary character influences the story so strongly that that just seemed like a waste of time. Everything I learn about this character could provide new opportunities to send the story in different directions. Not to mention deepening every scene she's in, and giving my main character more to work with in relating to her.
It was time to break away from the main manuscript and do a side exercise, one I've used before. I did a character sketch of her, in her first-person POV. And as I did, she became more likeable. Her feelings about the main character became clearer. She now has more of a personality.
I still have more work to do on her, but it was a good start. And a reminder that not every word I need to write ends up going directly into the book.
I was working on a draft and realized that I was having a hard time getting a grip on an important character. I had trouble writing her end of the dialogue because I wasn't sure what she was thinking and feeling. I also didn't know much about her talents, goals, and fears.
I could keep plunging forward with the point-of-view character, could keep running with the plot, but this secondary character influences the story so strongly that that just seemed like a waste of time. Everything I learn about this character could provide new opportunities to send the story in different directions. Not to mention deepening every scene she's in, and giving my main character more to work with in relating to her.
It was time to break away from the main manuscript and do a side exercise, one I've used before. I did a character sketch of her, in her first-person POV. And as I did, she became more likeable. Her feelings about the main character became clearer. She now has more of a personality.
I still have more work to do on her, but it was a good start. And a reminder that not every word I need to write ends up going directly into the book.
