Jamie Patterson's Blog, page 24
August 28, 2011
Airplanes
I was asked recently what I was like as a kid and really the only thing that came to mind was stubborn but at the risk of sounding like too much of a good time I'm going to add bookish. I read a ton and spent way more time in my head than out in the world. One of my favorite books was about airplanes and I remember in grade school sitting with this one book about planes and going over and over the parts of a plane. There was a time when I could have told you each little part. Can't anymore, but I still love planes.
The first article I wrote in college was an interview with a Northwest pilot, who told me I asked such good questions I should consider being a pilot. I joked with her that I asked good questions because I was a writer but I always had a secret hope I might be comfortable in a cockpit.
I took exactly one flying lesson and ended up frozen with my hands in a death grip on the yoke. But I took off okay, could fly in a straight line okay. I basically learned that if I never had to turn or land I could happily be a pilot.
Today I got a thrill because I got to take a spin out on the tarmac at MSP and got the go-ahead from the guy teaching me how to drive on the ramp ("look out for jet blast, why don't you stop here") to pull up next to the catering truck for the Narita flight and hop out for a quick look. I think watching the 747 take off and land might never get old.
The first article I wrote in college was an interview with a Northwest pilot, who told me I asked such good questions I should consider being a pilot. I joked with her that I asked good questions because I was a writer but I always had a secret hope I might be comfortable in a cockpit.
I took exactly one flying lesson and ended up frozen with my hands in a death grip on the yoke. But I took off okay, could fly in a straight line okay. I basically learned that if I never had to turn or land I could happily be a pilot.
Today I got a thrill because I got to take a spin out on the tarmac at MSP and got the go-ahead from the guy teaching me how to drive on the ramp ("look out for jet blast, why don't you stop here") to pull up next to the catering truck for the Narita flight and hop out for a quick look. I think watching the 747 take off and land might never get old.
Minnesota Nice
I've lived in the same building for nearly 4 years and I think I could name four of the 16 residents. Maybe. Let me give it a try, I think they're named "young couple," "annoying girl," "nice man," and "older woman." I'm starting to become friendlier with Older Woman, but in true Minnesota form, the relationship is slow.
We moved from nods in the hallway when we passed to half smiles of recognition after I helped push her minivan out of snow this last February. Then we moved from half smiles to (suddenly!) polite conversation after she saw me reading the book One Day in the back garden. She had just seen the movie and hated it.
We passed each other again yesterday retrieving mail and we went through all three phases: nod, smile of recognition, and then (oh, yes! We've conversed!) "did you finish the book?" Chatter, chatter, smile, nod, leave.
Another 3 years and I might actually know her name.
We moved from nods in the hallway when we passed to half smiles of recognition after I helped push her minivan out of snow this last February. Then we moved from half smiles to (suddenly!) polite conversation after she saw me reading the book One Day in the back garden. She had just seen the movie and hated it.
We passed each other again yesterday retrieving mail and we went through all three phases: nod, smile of recognition, and then (oh, yes! We've conversed!) "did you finish the book?" Chatter, chatter, smile, nod, leave.
Another 3 years and I might actually know her name.
August 27, 2011
Minnesota State Fair
Breakfast at the Fair!
Siena navigates the crowds with the help from dad and Bop.
Happy Anniversary John & Catherine
Tomorrow is John and Dash's 1 year wedding anniversary so I thought we could relive a bit of the night (wish I'd taken more video!). It was an incredible night: five bands, grilled cheese for hors d'oeuvres, a port and chocolate bar at the end of the night. Probably the best backyard wedding reception since Father of the Bride!
August 26, 2011
Morning on the Lake
The closer we get to fall the more I'm appreciative of how beautiful this city is when it isn't covered in snow. Okay, it's still beautiful when it's covered in snow but in a very different, much colder, way.
When the Writer Tells his own Story
I was asked in a book club interview the other day what prompted me to write Lost Edens and I had to say that I really didn't feel like I had a choice. I'm a writer, it's what I do. Life happens and first I grab a book and read, and then I sit down and write. The bigger question is why I decided to publish. After all, I have other manuscripts piled up, so why this one?
I think the answer might be so that conversations like what abuse does or does not look like could be had (which is already happening in early reader reviews). I think it also might be so that people who have gone through something similar will be able to share in an experience, if only on paper. So far, reviewers who have gone through something similar express the feeling that Lost Edens is an accurate portrayal of their own personal experiences, which I think is fascinating.
Each time a reader contacts me and says that he or she went through the same kind of pain I'm at once saddened that it's so widespread and also amazed at the consistencies of human experience. It also makes me feel content with my decision to publish; that somehow the story is useful, even without discussion.
Toward the consistencies of human experience bit, here's something Samuel Johnson published on Autobiographies in November 24, 1759:
Biography is, of the various kinds of narrative writing, that which is most eagerly read, and most easily applied to the purposes of life.
The mischievous consequences of vice and folly, of irregular desires and predominant passions, are best discovered by those relations which are levelled with the general surface of life, which tell not how any man became great, but how he was made happy; not how he lost the favour of his prince, but how he became discontented with himself.
I think the answer might be so that conversations like what abuse does or does not look like could be had (which is already happening in early reader reviews). I think it also might be so that people who have gone through something similar will be able to share in an experience, if only on paper. So far, reviewers who have gone through something similar express the feeling that Lost Edens is an accurate portrayal of their own personal experiences, which I think is fascinating.
Each time a reader contacts me and says that he or she went through the same kind of pain I'm at once saddened that it's so widespread and also amazed at the consistencies of human experience. It also makes me feel content with my decision to publish; that somehow the story is useful, even without discussion.
Toward the consistencies of human experience bit, here's something Samuel Johnson published on Autobiographies in November 24, 1759:
Biography is, of the various kinds of narrative writing, that which is most eagerly read, and most easily applied to the purposes of life.
The mischievous consequences of vice and folly, of irregular desires and predominant passions, are best discovered by those relations which are levelled with the general surface of life, which tell not how any man became great, but how he was made happy; not how he lost the favour of his prince, but how he became discontented with himself.
August 25, 2011
Curtis the Dog Walker
World's shortest video of Curtis the Dog Walker. He does two walks a day around Harriet, usually with at least a dozen dogs per walk. At over $20 per dog per walk I'd say this is one job I'd be glad to do! The dogs sure wouldn't listen to me, though, like they listen to Curtis. He's the resident dog whisperer for our hood.
August 22, 2011
Letting Go
Did you ever feel a little bit like you were sick but had so much to do, so you kept moving, moving, moving, and then the moment you stop moving it hits you like out of nowhere--you're beat. You can't move.
I have two more weeks of the early morning airport shifts and today around 9:00 a.m. while I listened to the Ops guys try to figure out where a lone trombone had come from ("Copy that. Did you say trombone? As in the instrument? Copy.") I realized that I just. can't. do. it. Anymore. It as in work 6:00-11:30 and then edit for 8 hours. I asked for a sick day as an editor and spent the entire day sleeping. Had a lovely dream that Michelle Obama had sent me a facebook message congratulating me on the book.
Then I got up and finally did it. I put my Jeep up for sale on cars.com. Would rather not, but it's past time now to let it go. I also brought two bags of clothes and shoes to the Co-op charity drop. So far, I haven't had any thoughts of trying to dive in and rescue any singular piece of clothing. So far, so good. I did, though, take out exactly three items and one pair of fantastic boots (what was I thinking to get rid of those?!).
Tomorrow, a new day. Lost Edens officially launches and hopefully, maybe, someone will read.
I think I can. I think I can.
Too late to take it back now.
Thanks, Jeni, for documenting the momentous occasion.
I have two more weeks of the early morning airport shifts and today around 9:00 a.m. while I listened to the Ops guys try to figure out where a lone trombone had come from ("Copy that. Did you say trombone? As in the instrument? Copy.") I realized that I just. can't. do. it. Anymore. It as in work 6:00-11:30 and then edit for 8 hours. I asked for a sick day as an editor and spent the entire day sleeping. Had a lovely dream that Michelle Obama had sent me a facebook message congratulating me on the book.
Then I got up and finally did it. I put my Jeep up for sale on cars.com. Would rather not, but it's past time now to let it go. I also brought two bags of clothes and shoes to the Co-op charity drop. So far, I haven't had any thoughts of trying to dive in and rescue any singular piece of clothing. So far, so good. I did, though, take out exactly three items and one pair of fantastic boots (what was I thinking to get rid of those?!).
Tomorrow, a new day. Lost Edens officially launches and hopefully, maybe, someone will read.
I think I can. I think I can.
Too late to take it back now.
Thanks, Jeni, for documenting the momentous occasion.
Different Routes
It's been awhile since I posted a questions books ask so here's one for the collection from One Day:
What if life had taken a different route? What if she had persevered
with those letters to publishers when she was twenty-two? Might it have been
Emma, instead of Stephanie Shaw, eating Pret a Manger sandwiches in a pencil
skirt? For some time now she has had a conviction that life is about to change
if only because it must, and perhaps this is it, perhaps this meeting is the new
start.
Not terribly mindblowing but it's the question we all ask sometimes, isn't it? What if life had taken a different route?
What if life had taken a different route? What if she had persevered
with those letters to publishers when she was twenty-two? Might it have been
Emma, instead of Stephanie Shaw, eating Pret a Manger sandwiches in a pencil
skirt? For some time now she has had a conviction that life is about to change
if only because it must, and perhaps this is it, perhaps this meeting is the new
start.
Not terribly mindblowing but it's the question we all ask sometimes, isn't it? What if life had taken a different route?
