Sara Ryan's Blog

Sometimes I post a recipe (ground turkey, butternut squash, sweet potatoes & black beans)

So I’m not feeling well and my default at such times is to make some variety of soup, but somehow even that seemed daunting today.

I remembered that there was a bag of diced butternut squash and another bag of diced sweet potatoes in the freezer. Decided to roast them with some olive oil and salt and smoked paprika at 350 degrees until they looked done. While they were roasting, I defrosted & browned a pound of ground turkey. (It would also work with tofu or tempeh, I bet.) Once it was close to being browned, I added salt and a few spoonfuls of harissa.

Then I dumped the roasted sweet potatoes and squash in with the ground turkey, drained & added a can of black beans, stirred it all together and called it good. It would probably be even better if you roasted fresh vegetables instead of using frozen, and presoaked and cooked the black beans instead of using canned. But that would be more effort and sometimes more effort is not going to happen.

The paprika and harissa are vital, though.

 

the We Need Diverse Books mentorship program: two perspectives

I can’t believe we’re already more than halfway through the We Need Diverse Books 2018 mentorship program! Here’s how it’s been so far for me and Tai Farnsworth, the writer I’m pleased to be mentoring.

Sara Ryan:

When I was invited to be a mentor with We Need Diverse Books, I was honored and excited and nervous. I’ve taught writing in assorted settings, and I’ve been in writers’ groups for decades, offering a combination of support and critique. But this would be my first experience with one-on-one mentorship.

When I read the finalists’ manuscripts to choose the writer I’d be working with for the coming year, it was such a difficult decision. I read, and reread, and set them aside for a little while. The fearlessness, warmth, queer sensibility, and sensory richness of Tai’s manuscript stuck with me. (Plus it had made me laugh out loud multiple times.) We had a good rapport right away and connected easily over email & Google Hangouts.

When I gave Tai a big assignment to make her manuscript even stronger (aka the dreaded reverse outline) I worried about how she’d react. I knew it would be a lot of work, and I knew it can be hard to see the benefit of doing this kind of exercise when you’ve already put a lot of time into a manuscript. I was so relieved when she agreed to take it on, and I’ve been delighted to see the post-reverse-outline revisions.

My guiding principles in this role are to be clear that any suggestions I offer are just that, and equally clear about why I think the suggestions are worth considering. I knew I’d learn a lot, and I am. It’s also a real pleasure.

Tai Farnsworth:

When I first received the email saying I’d been accepted as one of this year’s YA WNDB mentees, I could barely process the information. In between tears and laughter, I asked one of my co-workers to confirm what I’d read, as some part of me was convinced I was reading the email wrong. It was easily my happiest moment of 2017. But I had no idea what to expect.

Sara and I connected immediately. It is comforting to have a queer person working with me on my queer book. Every step of the way I have felt wholly seen and understood. Even when the task at hand seems daunting (oh how I loathe thee, reverse outline) Sara cheers me on.

Through Google Hangout and emails, we have spent the last half-year working on the many elements of my manuscript that needed to be tightened and re-worked before it’s ready to query again. Occasionally, I’ll reach out with questions about an upcoming reading or concerns about how the beginning of a new story is shaping out and Sara is always insightful. She’s kind but she never pulls punches or allows me to skate by. And every once in a while she’ll send an additional resource or book recommendation my way! At the beginning of this process, I was certain my book was ready to be published, regardless of my spate of rejections. But working with Sara has helped me see the opportunities I’d left on the writing table. I’m now about a quarter of the way into my re-write and it’s slow goings but I’m so proud of the work I’m doing and the changes taking place. This last year has been a whirlwind for me personally, but the WNDB mentorship has had such a wonderful impact on my life. I’m so honored to have this chance to make an impact with my writing. And grateful to the many people, Sara especially, who are helping me on this journey.

In which I pretend we’re still in the era of blogs

I understand that TinyLetters are the now the order of the day and maybe at some point I’ll be moved to start one, but right now I just want to pretend it’s that time when we’re all still semi-regularly blogging, commenting on each other’s posts, and apologizing for how long it’s been since our last entries.

Sorry it’s been so long since my last entry!

I’m reposting this photo of my cat from 2006, when he was a tiny kitten who sometimes hid behind books and sometimes managed to crawl into the silverware drawer, because I almost lost it and 112 other photos that only existed within the LiveJournal archives I nearly deactivated. It got me thinking about how I used to do more documenting here; I’d talk about travel and events, and share recipes and photos from thrifting and estate sales and odd things I saw on the street.

And writing; I used to write more about what I was writing.

But at some point I got so I didn’t want to write about how I had no idea how long it was going to take me to finish the work in progress, and it seemed like if I didn’t have some new writing to promote, or some vulnerable, heartfelt insights about the difficulties I was having in finishing the writing that, ideally, eventually I’d be promoting, it was better not to say anything.

I haven’t, in point of fact, finished the work in progress, but I think, I think, I’m closing in on a draft. I just had three days’ worth of writing retreat at the lovely place wherein I saw the sunset in the photo to the right.

It’s starting to feel like a book.

What else has been happening? Five things:

I sewed new cuffs onto an old beloved hoodie.

2. I visited what I used to call the Usual Undisclosed Location, and found comfort, again, in one of the places I go every time I’m there.

3. I visited friends in Chicago and appreciated their neighborhood.

4. I know I’m quite late to this party but I finally got on the N.K. Jemisin train via the Dreamblood duology. I highly recommend them: beautifully complex worldbuilding, nuanced, flawed characters, and, as this interviewer praises, her ability to write so well about power, oppression and pain.

5. Via Twitter I learned that someone at some point scissored out a panel from a library copy of Bad Houses; this was the panel in question:

You never do, do you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hello, 2018

Bright sun this first day of 2018.

I took a walk in the neighborhood.

To opening new doors.

 

Seeing new patterns of light, shadows, colors and lines.

And finding indications of love in unlikely places.

 

Books recommended at the BGL retreat

As has become traditional (see 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012 — we unaccountably skipped 2016), here in no particular order are book and author recommendations from folks at this year’s Barry Goldblatt Literary retreat. I may or may not personally endorse all the choices (I haven’t read them all, for one thing) but here they are!

Also note that these aren’t links to buy the books directly; they might be interviews, reviews, info from the author or publisher’s website, Wikipedia entries…so click and discover!

The Smell of Other People’s Houses, Bonnie Sue Hitchcock

Every Heart a Doorway and Down Among the Sticks and Bones, Seanan McGuire

Without You There Is No Us, Suki Kim

Landscape With Invisible Hand, M.T. Anderson

20th Century Boys, Naoki Urasawa

Spain In Our Hearts: Americans in the Spanish Civil War, Adam Hoschild

Vorkosigan saga, Lois McMaster Bujold

Lymond Chronicles, Dorothy Dunnett

Queen of the Night, Alexander Chee

Reality Is Not What It Seems, Carlo Rovelli

Celestial Mechanics, William Least Heat-Moon

Shades of Magic trilogy, V.E. Schwab

This Darkness Mine, Mindy McGinnis

The Strange Case of the Alchemist’s Daughter, Theodora Goss

Jade City, Fonda Lee

The Alchemy of Air: A Jewish Genius, a Doomed Tycoon, and the Scientific Discovery That Fed the World but Fueled the Rise of Hitler, Thomas Hager

Annals of the Former World, John McPhee

Black Tides of Heaven and Red Threads of Fortune, J.Y. Yang

The Hidden Life of Trees: What They Feel, How They Communicate — Discoveries From a Secret World, Peter Wohlleben

Thick As Thieves, Megan Whalen Turner

The Prey of Gods, Nicky Drayden

The Hate U Give, Angie Thomas

Allegedly, Tiffany Jackson

Monstress, Marjorie Lieu

River of Teeth, Sarah Gailey

Ballad of Black Tom, Victor LaValle

Forever War, Joe Haldeman

Cloud and Wallfish, Anne Nesbet

Girl Mans Up, M.E. Girard

Modern Romance, Aziz Ansari  (audio)

Self-Inflicted Wounds, Aisha Tyler (audio)

HyperObjects, Timothy Morton

A Confederacy of Dunces, John Kennedy Toole

Tananarive Due

Amelia Gray

Kelly Link

Piecing Me Together, Renee Watson

Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars: A Dangerous Trans Girl’s Confabulous Memoir,  Kai Cheng Thom

Borderline, Mishell Baker

Jane Steele, Lyndsay Fae

American Nations, Colin Woodard

Magonia, Maria Dahvana Headley

Carry On, Rainbow Rowell

Mr. Splitfoot, Samantha Hunt

There’s Something Happening Here: The New Left, The Klan, And FBI Counterintelligence, David Cunningham

White Rage: The Unspoken Truth of Our Racial Divide, Dr. Carol Anderson

Where Memories Go: why dementia changes everything, Sally Magnusson

Teacup, Rebecca Young, illus. by Matt Ottley

Mother of the Sea, Zetta Elliott

The Jumbies, Tracey Baptiste

Escargot, Dashka Slater, illus. by Sydney Hanson

The Friend Ship, Kat Yeh, illus. by Chuck Groenik

The Arrival, Shaun Tan

On the Edge of Gone, Corinne Duyvis

Going Clear: Scientology and the Prison of Belief, Laurence Wright

My Sister Rosa, Justine Larbalestier

The Journal of Best Practices: A Memoir of Marriage, Asperger Syndrome, and One Man’s Quest to be a Better Husband, David Finch

The Great Passage, Shion Miura

Is this thing on?

Already more than halfway through the year, and months since my last post, and I’m more and more reticent about discussing work in progress. But there is work, and it is progressing.

Winston Library Comic Con and Western Washington Queer Comic Con

It’s not common for me to have events two weekends in a row, but it’s just happened.

And while I’m exhausted, I’m also really glad to have been part of both.

The Winston Library Comic Con happened against the backdrop of the deeply sad and infuriating situation of the Douglas County Library System’s closure. The organizers wanted to give back to their library patrons with a celebration, and they did a stellar job. For many people who attended, it was their first comic con: they could cosplay, meet creators, see panels and discover new work without also having to deal with potentially intimidating and overwhelming crowds. I got to chat with folks a bit more than usual, and it was so clear that this kind of event is needed and valued. The con was an example of interest-driven, participatory learning in action, and I really hope the community comes up with a way to bring their libraries back to life so these kinds of opportunities can continue.

Also, after the con we got to go to Wildlife Safari, which was a good reminder that you never know what you’ll find in a small town.

So that was last weekend.

This weekend, which it still is as I type this in my hotel room like the hermit I sometimes become after events, was the inaugural Western Washington University Queer Comic Con. The accessible scale of the show made me decide to break my con-standard-operating-procedure of never leaving my table in favor of actually walking around and talking with other creators, although I only made it around to folks on the same floor I was on.

Lost/abandoned items; friends of the scarf’s owner eventually retrieved it for them, but I do not know the fate of the balloon sword.

I don’t know how many of the attendees were experiencing their first comic con. But judging from the excited, squeeing, shy, and overwhelmed-by-all-the-feels reactions I observed, a significant percentage were experiencing their first queer con. As an Old, I especially appreciated seeing how the understanding of the complexities of identity continues to evolve. Back when Empress was first published — which is, god help me, probably before some of the folks reading it now were born — I couldn’t have imagined, for instance, an “I’m Too Cute to Be Binary” t-shirt. I was delighted to see someone wearing one today.

Consumption, production, judgment, etc.

 

This street corner installation, conglomerated out of many different objects, makes me think of taking in experiences and combining them to create something new & unexpected.

One experience that will be on my mind for a while, though I can’t say yet how it will influence my production, was serving on a jury.

Holding my juror badge, looking judgmental

I won’t say anything about the case except that it was all based on testimony, so our job as jurors was primarily to decide who was telling the truth.

It was difficult.

I’m glad I had the opportunity and I appreciated the thoughtfulness and seriousness with which my fellow jurors approached the task.

What else have I been taking in?

I listen to a lot of podcasts: Another Round, BackStory, Call Your Girlfriend, Code Switch, Flash Forward, Gastropod, Good Muslim Bad Muslim, Imaginary Worlds, the Oral History Podcast, Popaganda, the Racist Sandwich Podcast, The Read, Reply All, See Something Say Something, We Want the Airwaves, Whiskey Sour Feelings Hour. And while she’s no longer making new episodes, I also commend to your attention the archives of Sara Zarr’s This Creative Life. I’m really just a fan of the podcast format overall. I like them when the production values are high and there’s very sophisticated sound design, and I also like them when listening feels like eavesdropping.

And I track the books I’ve been reading via Goodreads, though I mostly don’t star or review.

In terms of the news, like a lot of people, I’m trying to stay informed and find ways to resist while avoiding becoming immobilized by fear, anger, and despair. Sometimes this means I spend more time looking at lovely pictures on Instagram than trenchant political commentary on Twitter. Sometimes it means I’m offline altogether.

As for what I’m producing: I’m not gonna talk about it, but the word count is increasing, slowly but surely.

 

 

It looks different around here.

So it’s spring, and I hadn’t updated the theme in years, and my very talented friend Jenn Reese agreed to help bring my website into the late teens.

It’s also, come to think of it, nearly the website’s own late teens, seeing as I’ve owned sararyan.com since around the year 2000. (There was a server crash in the mid-oughts that ate some of the oldest posts.)

We’re still tweaking some things, but I’m already pleased with the changes, and also amused that the theme we’re using was originally designed for food blogging. Who knows, perhaps I’ll be inspired to post some recipes.

New habits in 2017

Early in the year, which is to say a few staggeringly long and tumultuous weeks ago, I took a photo out a particular window, propping the phone in the frame and keeping the flash off, trying to avoid getting the device’s reflection into the shot.

The next morning I took another.

It hasn’t been every day.

It hasn’t been the same time of day each time.

I haven’t kept the phone in precisely the same position.

But it’s becoming a small habit, these photos that are mostly the roof of the house next door, the tops of trees, snow when there’s snow, clouds when there are clouds.

Consistency and variation.

Another habit I’ve been forming is to note small actions I’m taking in my journal. Calls, emails, letters, events, donations. Time strategizing, commiserating, and simply being with people I care about.

And writing, because yes, that counts.

It helps to remember what I’ve done and am doing on an ongoing basis, in the face of the endless and terrifying deluge of everything else that needs to be done.

It also helps to think about the rest of you, and everything you’re doing, too.