Alex Kudera's Blog, page 152
June 20, 2011
Father's Day
Thirty minutes before the closing bell, I did manage to get a memory of Dad up on the wall over at When Falls the Coliseum.
Happy Father's Day, to you and your father!
Happy Father's Day, to you and your father!
June 19, 2011
blurbs added, sales stalled
More blurbs were added to the amazon link for Fight for Your Long Day, but once more, after the great Chronicle of Higher Ed rush of early June, 2011, sales seem to have stalled. So, yes, please don't rush out to buy a second copy (or a fifth, Mom), but if you're currently sans Duffler and looking to make this Daddy happy, don't be afraid to Indy-up or point and click in some other soft Cyrus place (in fact, there's free shipping direct from the Atticus Books online store).
''[A]n expose of academia and the labor that sustains it, the kind of novel one learns from and rallies behind. Eyebrow-raising and wry, Kudera's take on the ivory tower certainly makes it look less pearly white.'' -- ForeWord Reviews
''Cyrus Duffleman and Fight for Your Long Day cast light on [the] situation in which many contingent faculty members find themselves ... I hope the novel is popular enough to make a big change; it has already changed me.'' -- Isaac Sweeney, Academe
''[I]t is not unfair to call Fight For Your Long Day a protest novel, in much the same category of Upton Sinclair's The Jungle. And like Sinclair's book, it sounds a note of genuine disgust at economic injustices ... Kudera is an extremely talented and driven novelist. The authenticity of the experience he writes about burns through on each page. The story of Duffleman and his many similarly suffering peers in the real academic world is a plight long overlooked finally getting its deserved attention.'' ---- The Southeast Review
Product Description
2011 Independent Publisher (IPPY) Book Award - Gold for Best Regional Fiction (Mid-Atlantic)
''[A]n expose of academia and the labor that sustains it, the kind of novel one learns from and rallies behind. Eyebrow-raising and wry, Kudera's take on the ivory tower certainly makes it look less pearly white.'' -- ForeWord Reviews
''Cyrus Duffleman and Fight for Your Long Day cast light on [the] situation in which many contingent faculty members find themselves ... I hope the novel is popular enough to make a big change; it has already changed me.'' -- Isaac Sweeney, Academe
''[I]t is not unfair to call Fight For Your Long Day a protest novel, in much the same category of Upton Sinclair's The Jungle. And like Sinclair's book, it sounds a note of genuine disgust at economic injustices ... Kudera is an extremely talented and driven novelist. The authenticity of the experience he writes about burns through on each page. The story of Duffleman and his many similarly suffering peers in the real academic world is a plight long overlooked finally getting its deserved attention.'' ---- The Southeast Review
Product Description
2011 Independent Publisher (IPPY) Book Award - Gold for Best Regional Fiction (Mid-Atlantic)
June 9, 2011
Interview with ForeWord Reviews
This link leads to the full text of an interview with ForeWord Reviews:
http://atticusbooksonline.com/one-of-a-kind-a-foreword-interview-with-alex-kudera/
You can see in this first response, I "out" myself as a Little House on the Prairie man:
ForeWord Reviews: When did you start reading, and what did you like to read as a child?
Alex Kudera: I believe my first attempt at reading a novel was around age seven when I read Little House on the Prairie. I can't tell you why I skipped Little House in the Big Woods. By seven, I was conscious of the fact that I was reading late relative to a number of kids I knew. My sister, 20 months older, was already an avid reader, and my closest friend, just three months older than me, had read to my sister's class when we were in four-year-old nursery school. It took me a month to get through the first chapter of the book, but slowly, I improved and learned to enjoy sustained reading.
By the way, I also required speech therapy as a child. I believe that this was around first or second grade, and I remember I had to walk through my older sister's "academically talented" classroom to get to the therapy room. I just want to note that both reading and speaking did not come easily to me, and so perhaps, there could be some inspiration found here for other aspiring novelists who never experienced writing or related skills as a gift or something to be taken for granted.
But back to my favorites, after Little House, I went on to read many different books, but I remember enjoying Matt Christopher's sports fiction, The Hardy Boys, and all different kinds of sports biographies for kids. Judy Blume, Encyclopedia Brown, Lloyd Alexander, C.S. Lewis, and many others came later, and then by high school, I was reading classics commonly assigned.
http://atticusbooksonline.com/one-of-a-kind-a-foreword-interview-with-alex-kudera/
You can see in this first response, I "out" myself as a Little House on the Prairie man:
ForeWord Reviews: When did you start reading, and what did you like to read as a child?
Alex Kudera: I believe my first attempt at reading a novel was around age seven when I read Little House on the Prairie. I can't tell you why I skipped Little House in the Big Woods. By seven, I was conscious of the fact that I was reading late relative to a number of kids I knew. My sister, 20 months older, was already an avid reader, and my closest friend, just three months older than me, had read to my sister's class when we were in four-year-old nursery school. It took me a month to get through the first chapter of the book, but slowly, I improved and learned to enjoy sustained reading.
By the way, I also required speech therapy as a child. I believe that this was around first or second grade, and I remember I had to walk through my older sister's "academically talented" classroom to get to the therapy room. I just want to note that both reading and speaking did not come easily to me, and so perhaps, there could be some inspiration found here for other aspiring novelists who never experienced writing or related skills as a gift or something to be taken for granted.
But back to my favorites, after Little House, I went on to read many different books, but I remember enjoying Matt Christopher's sports fiction, The Hardy Boys, and all different kinds of sports biographies for kids. Judy Blume, Encyclopedia Brown, Lloyd Alexander, C.S. Lewis, and many others came later, and then by high school, I was reading classics commonly assigned.
June 6, 2011
Chronicle of Higher Education
A few days after Isaac Sweeney was kind enough to interview me for one of his Chronicle blogs On Hiring (The Two-Year Track), Ms. Mentor wrote:
"But it took nearly 40 years before anyone wrote a novel told consistently from the perspective of an adjunct: Alex Kudera's Fight for Your Long Day (2010)."
Thank you for noting the originality of the idea and for including an adjunct's perspective in an article that would have to be heavily weighted with the voices of the tenured or those fortunate to earn their living from writing, not teaching.
(I did notice that the two of the 11 finalists I've read are both told from the perspective of tenured professors, but I like both books quite a bit. In fact, I often speak of The Human Stain as my favorite by Philip Roth, a writer I do not always endorse, and Don Delillo's White Noise is one I've taught many times.)
PS--As a side note, Steve Himmer, also of Atticus Books, posted this quotation from the Isaac Sweeney interview:
To me, the most significant American stories have almost always been stories of alienation; the alienation could be emotional, social, psychological, or economic and is typically a combination of these. The university is central to the information economy and employs millions of workers across the country and more throughout the world. The fantastic irony of the marginalized teacher caught in the middle of the educational economy is too much to ignore; it is a rather fantastic elephant in the room that the place of greatest alienation in the university could be right behind the classroom lectern, where a contract worker without health benefits is the only adult most freshmen will have significant communication with.
Thanks, Isaac, Steve, Ms. Mentor, and everyone else who has recently linked and shared these Chronicle notes.
"But it took nearly 40 years before anyone wrote a novel told consistently from the perspective of an adjunct: Alex Kudera's Fight for Your Long Day (2010)."
Thank you for noting the originality of the idea and for including an adjunct's perspective in an article that would have to be heavily weighted with the voices of the tenured or those fortunate to earn their living from writing, not teaching.
(I did notice that the two of the 11 finalists I've read are both told from the perspective of tenured professors, but I like both books quite a bit. In fact, I often speak of The Human Stain as my favorite by Philip Roth, a writer I do not always endorse, and Don Delillo's White Noise is one I've taught many times.)
PS--As a side note, Steve Himmer, also of Atticus Books, posted this quotation from the Isaac Sweeney interview:
To me, the most significant American stories have almost always been stories of alienation; the alienation could be emotional, social, psychological, or economic and is typically a combination of these. The university is central to the information economy and employs millions of workers across the country and more throughout the world. The fantastic irony of the marginalized teacher caught in the middle of the educational economy is too much to ignore; it is a rather fantastic elephant in the room that the place of greatest alienation in the university could be right behind the classroom lectern, where a contract worker without health benefits is the only adult most freshmen will have significant communication with.
Thanks, Isaac, Steve, Ms. Mentor, and everyone else who has recently linked and shared these Chronicle notes.
June 3, 2011
Haiku on the Horizon
I returned home from another tired Thursday.
She was happily munching on snack and bottled water in her car seat, so I stopped at the mailboxes to retrieve whatever still gets sent, and low and behold, there awaiting me was the most pleasant surprise, the next issue of Contemporary Literary Horizon.
Busy, tired, fountains, playground, doggy, tired, boats, water boiled or bottled until further notice, and then late at night, I dove into Don Riggs's essay on haiku. It comes with plenty of fun samples and the inside dope that he demands 250 of those 5/7/5 [redacted]ers, 25 per week, when teaching a 10-week creative-writing class. I can hear Don's voice in my head, where with some irony, he is introducing the students to the possibility of writing all 250 the night before the quarter's homework is due.
Thank you, Dr. Daniel Peaceman, for another wonderful issue of your transcontinental, trilingual project.
Thank you, Don for adding a touch of Nicole Kline's haiku, and allowing my nostalgia for past schools and itinerant appointments to blend in with the mix.
Philadelphia, when you're looking for your Poet-in-Residence, and if you're bold enough to consider someone on the margins of the short list--with apologies to all the other less recognized Philly poets, and I'll blog you all up soon--be sure to stop by any class taught by Don Riggs, and you'll see we are dealing not just with a poet but with a scholar who speaks a foreign language and would have a wonderful voice for leading us all further into poetry.
Or, if you prefer, just try the lesson Don mentions in the essay, the one about sitting for a half hour and writing haiku about anything you see. And yes, you're encouraged to choose the same subject twice.
I might just try that
right now. If you don't mind this
rather weak haiku.
She was happily munching on snack and bottled water in her car seat, so I stopped at the mailboxes to retrieve whatever still gets sent, and low and behold, there awaiting me was the most pleasant surprise, the next issue of Contemporary Literary Horizon.
Busy, tired, fountains, playground, doggy, tired, boats, water boiled or bottled until further notice, and then late at night, I dove into Don Riggs's essay on haiku. It comes with plenty of fun samples and the inside dope that he demands 250 of those 5/7/5 [redacted]ers, 25 per week, when teaching a 10-week creative-writing class. I can hear Don's voice in my head, where with some irony, he is introducing the students to the possibility of writing all 250 the night before the quarter's homework is due.
Thank you, Dr. Daniel Peaceman, for another wonderful issue of your transcontinental, trilingual project.
Thank you, Don for adding a touch of Nicole Kline's haiku, and allowing my nostalgia for past schools and itinerant appointments to blend in with the mix.
Philadelphia, when you're looking for your Poet-in-Residence, and if you're bold enough to consider someone on the margins of the short list--with apologies to all the other less recognized Philly poets, and I'll blog you all up soon--be sure to stop by any class taught by Don Riggs, and you'll see we are dealing not just with a poet but with a scholar who speaks a foreign language and would have a wonderful voice for leading us all further into poetry.
Or, if you prefer, just try the lesson Don mentions in the essay, the one about sitting for a half hour and writing haiku about anything you see. And yes, you're encouraged to choose the same subject twice.
I might just try that
right now. If you don't mind this
rather weak haiku.
May 22, 2011
Penguin Great Books of the 20th Century
I've been reading Saul Bellow's The Adventures of Augie March and have stumbled upon another way to assign myself a D
In this case, it concerns the Penguin Great Books of the 20th Century edition I have, a gold and tannish six by nine with quality paper for pages--you've probably seen these around
Anyway, in the beginning they list the twenty books in the series, and as it turns out, I've read thirteen of them--so that's good for a 65, and you can see where this is headed
Well, which ones you ask? The ones by Delillo, Kafka, Pynchon, Kerouac, Golding, Conrad, Morrison, Proust, Steinbeck, Joyce, Marquez, Ford (as in Ford Maddox), and Cather
And who have I failed to read a particular novel of? Wharton, Bellow (as said, am reading, and perhaps ironic that aside from Delillo or possibly Kafka, I've read more of his work than any other writer on the list), Coetzee, Greene (as in Graham), Rushdie, and Lawrence
If you think "Big Book," you can guess the exact title pretty easily for most of these although the Joyce selection is Portrait of the Artist, not what you were thinking, and, yes, this works in my favor
Overall though, to me, this list seems decidedly more "central to the canon" than some of the other lists I've seen floating around the web, and for the most part, the book chosen is absolutely the right one for each author
Or so says this humble D student, relieved to have passed a literature test
PS--My periods have led several other poignant pieces of punctuation on a work stoppage, and I can't have this held against me!
Arghh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (says the man reduced to the exclamation point)
PPS--I feel a need to confess that I was assigned William Golding's Lord of the Flies three times from grades 8 to 12, got it as a birthday present, and also had it assigned once in college and am almost sure I've read that [redacted] five times! Or, one less than the total number of Bellow's novels I've read (but to an extent, I cheated by dallying about the shorter ones here)
PPPS--Palmetto bug spotted--a huge [redacted]--no doubt from Kafka, his way of reminding me he never would have been a blogger! Or at least not one who overused his exclamation points!!!
PPPPS--[redacted] you, Kafka! At least I've read a title by all but three on the list (Greene, Coetzee, and Kesey)--possibly that means I'm counting a short story by D H Lawrence, yes, okay, I see what you mean, but I wanted to point out that I've read Alan Paton's Too Late the Phalarope, and if I expire tonight I wouldn't mind that this would be the last novel I ever mentioned
PPPPPS--Please God, don't turn me off now, when I was just getting warmed up! Pretty please!!!
PPPPPPS--Oy I really feel I've jinxed myself now
In this case, it concerns the Penguin Great Books of the 20th Century edition I have, a gold and tannish six by nine with quality paper for pages--you've probably seen these around
Anyway, in the beginning they list the twenty books in the series, and as it turns out, I've read thirteen of them--so that's good for a 65, and you can see where this is headed
Well, which ones you ask? The ones by Delillo, Kafka, Pynchon, Kerouac, Golding, Conrad, Morrison, Proust, Steinbeck, Joyce, Marquez, Ford (as in Ford Maddox), and Cather
And who have I failed to read a particular novel of? Wharton, Bellow (as said, am reading, and perhaps ironic that aside from Delillo or possibly Kafka, I've read more of his work than any other writer on the list), Coetzee, Greene (as in Graham), Rushdie, and Lawrence
If you think "Big Book," you can guess the exact title pretty easily for most of these although the Joyce selection is Portrait of the Artist, not what you were thinking, and, yes, this works in my favor
Overall though, to me, this list seems decidedly more "central to the canon" than some of the other lists I've seen floating around the web, and for the most part, the book chosen is absolutely the right one for each author
Or so says this humble D student, relieved to have passed a literature test
PS--My periods have led several other poignant pieces of punctuation on a work stoppage, and I can't have this held against me!
Arghh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (says the man reduced to the exclamation point)
PPS--I feel a need to confess that I was assigned William Golding's Lord of the Flies three times from grades 8 to 12, got it as a birthday present, and also had it assigned once in college and am almost sure I've read that [redacted] five times! Or, one less than the total number of Bellow's novels I've read (but to an extent, I cheated by dallying about the shorter ones here)
PPPS--Palmetto bug spotted--a huge [redacted]--no doubt from Kafka, his way of reminding me he never would have been a blogger! Or at least not one who overused his exclamation points!!!
PPPPS--[redacted] you, Kafka! At least I've read a title by all but three on the list (Greene, Coetzee, and Kesey)--possibly that means I'm counting a short story by D H Lawrence, yes, okay, I see what you mean, but I wanted to point out that I've read Alan Paton's Too Late the Phalarope, and if I expire tonight I wouldn't mind that this would be the last novel I ever mentioned
PPPPPS--Please God, don't turn me off now, when I was just getting warmed up! Pretty please!!!
PPPPPPS--Oy I really feel I've jinxed myself now
May 21, 2011
IPPY Gold Medal for Fight for Your Long Day
Breaking new--Alex Kudera tells Times reporter, via blog, that he is literary god lost in the internet with five hundred million howling, scribbling mortals! And, yes, at times, his fingers hurt an awful lot and he's really bad at that
mind-over-matter stuff
And although he did fill up his tank at a lusty three five-niner per gallon yesterday, he is certain the world did not end today, and he eagerly awaits some edgy YA content from a 2012 Presidential candidate on these and other concerns!
Well, if anyone has better ideas, please post, and in the meanwhile, enjoy the lack of periods on this netbook
http://atticusbooksonline.com/fight-for-your-ippy-gold/
Thanks for listening!
mind-over-matter stuff
And although he did fill up his tank at a lusty three five-niner per gallon yesterday, he is certain the world did not end today, and he eagerly awaits some edgy YA content from a 2012 Presidential candidate on these and other concerns!
Well, if anyone has better ideas, please post, and in the meanwhile, enjoy the lack of periods on this netbook
http://atticusbooksonline.com/fight-for-your-ippy-gold/
Thanks for listening!
May 13, 2011
friday the thirteenth
I was born on a Friday the 13th.
The resident who delivered me was born on a Friday the 13th.
My father was born on a Friday the 13th.
In my family, we had math, so there was emphasis on the fact that his half birthday was always my whole birthday. And vice versa.
I'm posting now, at 3:11 p.m. EST.
have a good weekend.
The resident who delivered me was born on a Friday the 13th.
My father was born on a Friday the 13th.
In my family, we had math, so there was emphasis on the fact that his half birthday was always my whole birthday. And vice versa.
I'm posting now, at 3:11 p.m. EST.
have a good weekend.
May 11, 2011
Don Riggs for Philly Poet Laureate!
Although Don has served with somewhat dubious distinction as the poet in residence of the United States of Kudera (yes, the blog you are reading, currently operating incognito as Big Lao Gu), at the risk of having him accused of double dipping, two-timing, or worse, I do want to nominate him for that larger office, Poet Laureate of Philadelphia.
As respected and talented poet (and mentioned in Heller's Inky column linked to above), Daisy Fried says, "Don would make a great Poet Laureate. He's also a topnotch catsitter." If I'm not mistaken, Daisy delivers in iambic pentameter or almost so. And yes, I could be mistaken.
Well, the father topic has been in and about these parts lately, so in closing, here's a Dad sonnet from Don:
Don't Ask
Unlike John Brooks Wheelwright, I do not ask
my eighteen-years dead Dad to undecease.
The specific way he puts it is come
home, but my father has gone home: ashes
in the base of the crematory furnace.
They offered to let us come pick the urn
up, who knows how long after he'd burned,
but I declined. Of what use that shovel
of gray particulate matter, mantel
adornment when I don't have a fireplace?
And what about the ashes would be him?
I have what he imposed on me: the task
of being the professor he'd not been.
I've grown this beard to hide his lack of chin.
As respected and talented poet (and mentioned in Heller's Inky column linked to above), Daisy Fried says, "Don would make a great Poet Laureate. He's also a topnotch catsitter." If I'm not mistaken, Daisy delivers in iambic pentameter or almost so. And yes, I could be mistaken.
Well, the father topic has been in and about these parts lately, so in closing, here's a Dad sonnet from Don:
Don't Ask
Unlike John Brooks Wheelwright, I do not ask
my eighteen-years dead Dad to undecease.
The specific way he puts it is come
home, but my father has gone home: ashes
in the base of the crematory furnace.
They offered to let us come pick the urn
up, who knows how long after he'd burned,
but I declined. Of what use that shovel
of gray particulate matter, mantel
adornment when I don't have a fireplace?
And what about the ashes would be him?
I have what he imposed on me: the task
of being the professor he'd not been.
I've grown this beard to hide his lack of chin.
shivani on mcnally
I'm almost finished John McNally's
After the Workshop
, and am loving it to the point, where I did what every fan does--namely google the guy and see what shows up. One of the first entries I found was a McNally interview in The Huffington Post from our old friend Anis Shivani (he of Boulevard MFA-trashing fame). Read more here.
(Note: The two cents above came to me seven to ten days ago, but I'm just now catching up, linking, sharing, and ensuring that. . . well, I don't know exactly what I'm ensuring, but I did finish the novel and would recommend.)
(Note: The two cents above came to me seven to ten days ago, but I'm just now catching up, linking, sharing, and ensuring that. . . well, I don't know exactly what I'm ensuring, but I did finish the novel and would recommend.)
