Jamie Patterson's Blog, page 17
October 17, 2011
Bus Rides
I don't think you can ever really know a city if you don't use the public transportation system every now and then. I took the city bus downtown today and, just like every time I take the bus, I saw a little different piece of the city than I usually do.
Today I had the bonus of amazing people watching. An 18-year-old girl with a voice that could pass for Ellen Page (Juno) and could have been reading from another script by Diablo Cody kind of stole the stage, though. She chatted all the way from downtown to the Lake street station (thus, how I know her age). I absolutely loved her confidence. Her ongoing monologue was only interrupted to shout "bless you" toward the back of the bus after someone sneezed. Quotes:
"Now, bartending. That'd be an awesome job and come on, I'm so cute!"
"The only other alternative would be that they don't like me and that just wouldn't make sense because I'm awesome."
"My parents raised a pretty hilarious kid."
And my favorite:
"I mean I'm a pretty decent catch. If I caught me, I wouldn't throw me back, you know what I mean?"
I've always thought I was pretty great myself but if I had been able to vocalize that like this gal I might have been able to save myself some heartache along the way. Then again, I got a book out of the heartache so one way or the other, I found my voice.
Today I had the bonus of amazing people watching. An 18-year-old girl with a voice that could pass for Ellen Page (Juno) and could have been reading from another script by Diablo Cody kind of stole the stage, though. She chatted all the way from downtown to the Lake street station (thus, how I know her age). I absolutely loved her confidence. Her ongoing monologue was only interrupted to shout "bless you" toward the back of the bus after someone sneezed. Quotes:
"Now, bartending. That'd be an awesome job and come on, I'm so cute!"
"The only other alternative would be that they don't like me and that just wouldn't make sense because I'm awesome."
"My parents raised a pretty hilarious kid."
And my favorite:
"I mean I'm a pretty decent catch. If I caught me, I wouldn't throw me back, you know what I mean?"
I've always thought I was pretty great myself but if I had been able to vocalize that like this gal I might have been able to save myself some heartache along the way. Then again, I got a book out of the heartache so one way or the other, I found my voice.
Is there a baby in there?
We took my 2-month-old niece for a walk this weekend and my sister bundled her up against the chill. There was easily 5 times more blanket than there was baby!
October 16, 2011
Book Fairs and Freezing Temps
My sister and I swung through the Twin Cities Book Festival yesterday and had a surprisingly good time. I'm not sure why not, but I didn't expect Beaver's Pond Press to be there, but there they were, along with Lost Edens. I've been to a lot of book fairs this last year from London to New York and each time I find myself wandering tables of publishers, authors, distributors, and the like I learn something new about this whole crazy process. I always knew Minneapolis was a good town for small presses but yesterday it was nice to really see and feel that through the community that gathered.
I went into this project with the desire to be an indie author and although I think I'd be very well-supported by the Minneapolis community I'm starting to think it'd be really pretty great to have stronger muscles behind the distribution. Maybe something to think about for the spring. On Wednesday of this coming week we'll dip below freezing in Minneapolis, which marks the beginning of what people keep saying will be one really, really cold winter.
I went into this project with the desire to be an indie author and although I think I'd be very well-supported by the Minneapolis community I'm starting to think it'd be really pretty great to have stronger muscles behind the distribution. Maybe something to think about for the spring. On Wednesday of this coming week we'll dip below freezing in Minneapolis, which marks the beginning of what people keep saying will be one really, really cold winter.
October 14, 2011
Stubborn Old Man
Today I took Huey for a nice run around the lake and at about two miles into the run he stopped. Wouldn't move. Went down to the water's edge and flopped to the sand. I let him chill for a bit and then once I got him going again he made for the nearest bench and crawled under it. I let him chill again and then tried to get him going. Eventually, I just carried him a little ways, then set him down in the sun on the grass and we sat there, watching the water.
Huey took in the breeze and the sun and I tried not to cry because it was the first time he was showing his age and I was so sad to be losing a running partner. I decided it was time to get moving again and when we stood up, Huey again refused to move. Then he looked at me, looked to his left, and pulled. I figured, heck, I'll go where he wants to go as long as he's moving. Once he figured out I would follow he broke into a trot in exactly the direction he wanted to go. No troubles. No refusing to move. Just happy, running, sniffing, doing what he wanted to do.
I wasn't willing to believe he was just being stubborn and worried about him all night. Thought I might come home to a fragile old man waiting to be lifted into bed. No such thing. He was up for a jog around the block, a game of tug-of-war (he won), and a bout with his kong.
I might still have lost a running partner but at least it's because he's lost interest and not because he's winding down his active days. I think Huey's still got a lot of life left in him, he'll just use it his way.
Huey took in the breeze and the sun and I tried not to cry because it was the first time he was showing his age and I was so sad to be losing a running partner. I decided it was time to get moving again and when we stood up, Huey again refused to move. Then he looked at me, looked to his left, and pulled. I figured, heck, I'll go where he wants to go as long as he's moving. Once he figured out I would follow he broke into a trot in exactly the direction he wanted to go. No troubles. No refusing to move. Just happy, running, sniffing, doing what he wanted to do.
I wasn't willing to believe he was just being stubborn and worried about him all night. Thought I might come home to a fragile old man waiting to be lifted into bed. No such thing. He was up for a jog around the block, a game of tug-of-war (he won), and a bout with his kong.
I might still have lost a running partner but at least it's because he's lost interest and not because he's winding down his active days. I think Huey's still got a lot of life left in him, he'll just use it his way.
Online Book Clubs
One really cool thing I've learned since Lost Edens published is that there are online book clubs. Who knew? I suppose I should have guessed! One, From Left to Write, is reading Lost Edens for the month of October. The Left to Write group is a really interesting, diverse group of women who blog about everything from motherhood to books and I've had a really fun time the last couple of weeks getting to know their writing and their blogs. If you're cruising the web and come across a button like the one below then you've stumbled upon one of the many members of the club.
I've been inspired to make my blog over after seeing some of the fabulous designs these ladies have. Perhaps another thing for the new year...
I've been inspired to make my blog over after seeing some of the fabulous designs these ladies have. Perhaps another thing for the new year...
October 13, 2011
Being a Writer
I don't remember the grade exactly but I know I was writing with a pencil and on large ruled paper (below) meant to teach penmanship. The assignment was to write a story and I wrote and I wrote and I wrote. I drew a crowd. I can seriously still hear one my classmates saying behind me "get more paper! She needs more paper!"
Pretty much for as long as I can remember I've loved words and have wanted to be a writer. My heroes growing up were Erma Bombeck and Nora Ephron. I never really considered writing as a profession, though, in a way I've heard people like Elizabeth Gilbert say that they did. I heard Gilbert speak last winter and she said she took a vow, like nuns or priests do, to be a writer. And that's been her singular endeavor.
Even now, as I have a book available for purchase, I'm an editor, student, and IROP agent before I even come close to touching a semblance of being a "writer." Something's gotta' give but then that's where the kicker comes: writing sure doesn't pay the bills (unless you're Elizabeth Gilbert). I was reading a bio on Stephen King, here's a quote about his struggle to become a Writer: "But due to his lack of income he was unable to further pursue the novel at great length and it too was filed away. King took a measly job of pumping gas earning $1.25 an hour."
I know I'm four or five books from being a Writer who gets to wake up in the morning and sit down at the writing desk to see where the words take me, and that's just fine. In the meantime I get to travel, help people with their writing, and earn my doctorate, which is all a heckuva lot better than pumping gas.
So I'm working toward the dream of waking up and having nothing to do but write, which is the life I had when I wrote Lost Edens. Isn't that funny? If you've read Lost Edens you know it's not exactly a light and lighthearted read but the very fact the book exists is proof enough that my life since the events in the book has been pretty darn great--I've lived the dream.
Pretty much for as long as I can remember I've loved words and have wanted to be a writer. My heroes growing up were Erma Bombeck and Nora Ephron. I never really considered writing as a profession, though, in a way I've heard people like Elizabeth Gilbert say that they did. I heard Gilbert speak last winter and she said she took a vow, like nuns or priests do, to be a writer. And that's been her singular endeavor.
Even now, as I have a book available for purchase, I'm an editor, student, and IROP agent before I even come close to touching a semblance of being a "writer." Something's gotta' give but then that's where the kicker comes: writing sure doesn't pay the bills (unless you're Elizabeth Gilbert). I was reading a bio on Stephen King, here's a quote about his struggle to become a Writer: "But due to his lack of income he was unable to further pursue the novel at great length and it too was filed away. King took a measly job of pumping gas earning $1.25 an hour."
I know I'm four or five books from being a Writer who gets to wake up in the morning and sit down at the writing desk to see where the words take me, and that's just fine. In the meantime I get to travel, help people with their writing, and earn my doctorate, which is all a heckuva lot better than pumping gas.
So I'm working toward the dream of waking up and having nothing to do but write, which is the life I had when I wrote Lost Edens. Isn't that funny? If you've read Lost Edens you know it's not exactly a light and lighthearted read but the very fact the book exists is proof enough that my life since the events in the book has been pretty darn great--I've lived the dream.
Dog Buddies
Huey and Jarvis, protecting the homestead.
As Soon As
I keep telling people Lost Edens will be in stores in January, which is true, but I realized that I need to be a bit more specific on "stores." If you have any suggestions for book stores in your neighborhood either let me know or let them know you want them to carry Lost Edens. We're working on a list now of small indie stores in the U.S. that might be interested in taking on a small book and a first time author.
I'm moving at a turtle's pace but maybe once this semester is over....or after I run the next marathon...or after I graduate...
Wish I didn't overextend like I do. Wonder what it's like to have two days off in a row? Hm. Or I wonder what it's like just to have a day off?
I'm moving at a turtle's pace but maybe once this semester is over....or after I run the next marathon...or after I graduate...
Wish I didn't overextend like I do. Wonder what it's like to have two days off in a row? Hm. Or I wonder what it's like just to have a day off?
October 12, 2011
IROP at the Airport
Tonight, at North America's 15th busiest airport on a an IROP night (irregular operations, which means loads of stranded, cranky passengers), I got to walk through the C concourse holding men's underwear delicately in my hand. Think of the opening scene of Serendipity in the crowded store the day before Christmas. I'm the girl coming down the escalator but instead of a nice pair of black gloves that will bring two people together for the greatest romance of their lives, I'm carrying a pair of white briefs in both palms.
Very interesting life I lead.
They were for a passenger I never actually met but was a young man who was disabled and traveling alone. I hate asking for help even if it's something simple so I felt for him, whoever he was, having to ask for clean underwear, new pants, and a care kit. As an IROP agent, apparently finding these things fall under my "other duties as assigned." I was glad to help even though it did mean one of the strangest walks of my life. I could actually see people's thoughts as I passed by: "are those underpants in her hands? I think those are men's underpants?"
It also made me think of one of the reasons I run: because I can. I realized this a few years ago helping a man onto an airplane who was able to walk but it took awhile for his mind to tell his legs what he wanted them to do. That night, it was 20 minutes before his mind and body were able to work together to lift his foot the half inch over and into the plane and all I could do was stand to steady him while he worked it out between mind and body.
We joke at the airport that one of us should write a book about all the things we see and experience and some of us even made an effort to put up a blog and figure out how to keep our employer and location under wraps. Nothing ever came of it, though. Maybe someday. It's the most frustrating, interesting, strange, joyful, altruistic, educational, horrible, fun job I've ever had.
Fun trailer for Serendipity just because I couldn't find the opening scene.
Very interesting life I lead.
They were for a passenger I never actually met but was a young man who was disabled and traveling alone. I hate asking for help even if it's something simple so I felt for him, whoever he was, having to ask for clean underwear, new pants, and a care kit. As an IROP agent, apparently finding these things fall under my "other duties as assigned." I was glad to help even though it did mean one of the strangest walks of my life. I could actually see people's thoughts as I passed by: "are those underpants in her hands? I think those are men's underpants?"
It also made me think of one of the reasons I run: because I can. I realized this a few years ago helping a man onto an airplane who was able to walk but it took awhile for his mind to tell his legs what he wanted them to do. That night, it was 20 minutes before his mind and body were able to work together to lift his foot the half inch over and into the plane and all I could do was stand to steady him while he worked it out between mind and body.
We joke at the airport that one of us should write a book about all the things we see and experience and some of us even made an effort to put up a blog and figure out how to keep our employer and location under wraps. Nothing ever came of it, though. Maybe someday. It's the most frustrating, interesting, strange, joyful, altruistic, educational, horrible, fun job I've ever had.
Fun trailer for Serendipity just because I couldn't find the opening scene.
October 11, 2011
Huey at Harriet
Otis Reading - Sitting on the dock of the bay
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Huey has never been a fan of water, even as a puppy. He was the dog at Dog Beach in San Diego that kept to the dry sand, thank you very much. Today I took him down to walk along the shore at Lake Harriet and he kept his distance from the water. He loves the docks, though. The docks are still out so we went and sat at the end of one for awhile and Huey soaked up the sun. He's a funny old man. We've been together 8 years this fall.
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Huey has never been a fan of water, even as a puppy. He was the dog at Dog Beach in San Diego that kept to the dry sand, thank you very much. Today I took him down to walk along the shore at Lake Harriet and he kept his distance from the water. He loves the docks, though. The docks are still out so we went and sat at the end of one for awhile and Huey soaked up the sun. He's a funny old man. We've been together 8 years this fall.
