The third semester of the MFA program includes writing a long essay. Apparently, early on this essay had to be 30 pages long. Now it's been reduced to 15-20 pages. I've heard various theories about the reasoning behind this. The most pragmatic is that an essay of 15-20 pages could be published. I have no idea if this is true, since I don't really read essays on any sort of regular basis, except in books. I don't really know how manuscript pages convert to book pages, but some of the essays I've read in books are certainly longer than 15 pages. I guess all this is moot though, since I don't expect tat I will try to get my essay published. But maybe I will. You never know.
I'm sitting in Espresso Royale right now, preparing to work on my essay or my book. I thought I'd take advantage of the wifi and do a blog entry. Marc is downstairs at the Labyrinth. We had lunch at the Red Hawk because I begged and said we needed to get out more.
As far as I can tell, this essay is meant to be about a personal experience of literature as it intersects with our lives and writing. It's odd. I didn't expect to learn anything about myself and my writing in the preparation of this essay. But as it turns out, even I didn't understand why I write what I do. And maybe I will never fully understand. But in trying to sort out what I should say to people about why some fantasy is literature, why it's important, why they should reconsider its validity, I've discovered some clear connections between my own spiritual longing and what i write. I've also identified the ways in which fantasy has shaped my life, the presence of fantasy in my life from a very young age. I think I've even come up with a fairly strong case for fantasy being the American/Western/industrialized equivalent of magical realsim in the motivation behind it and the purpose it serves for both the writer and the reader. Now of course, not all fantasy falls into this category. I'm leaning toward drawing the conclusion that it's mostly fantasy written in first person, and mostly by women or people of color or other people who have for some reason experienced oppression. I'm leaning toward saying that where the "magic" in magical resalism arises out of the cultural norms of societies heavily influenced by organized religion, the magic in the kind of fantasy I am referring to, the kind I write, arises out of the lack of such cultural beliefs. It arises out of a longing for the existence of some great power for good, something that could rescue us all, no matter what. It arises out of the fear that such a being or force does not exist, or perhaps out of the refusal to accept what seems obvious to our logical minds. We are alone, trapped in prisons of flesh, unable to control anything outside ourselves and actually not even our own physical bodies and often even our own thoughts, unable to count on anyone's help, always wondering if we will be let down, abandoned, disappointed, doomed. It arises as a response to the knowledge that death is inevitable, yet seems impossible to even contemplate. How could we simply cease to exist? It's the original human question about the meaning of life, re-framed by science and technology and the recent change in cultural standards.
Fantasy, well-written, character-driven fantasy, allows us to suspend our disbelief and belong to a world where there is a great force for good, where the impossible can be hoped for, where, though we are all in great danger, there is something that could save us, no matter what.
OK. I've pretty much written a book here. I'll stop now and get to work.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Apparently I've been tagged
Now, I had no idea what Stephanie was talking about when I read her comment. I've been tagged as a meme. WTF? First of all, I had to refresh my memory on this whole "meme" thing. I couldn't even figure out how to pronounce it. Like 'meem' or like 'mimi'? Well, the audio portion of the online dictionary says 'meem' but a friend tells me it's meh-meh. Who knows?
So here's the definition: n. A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another.
In other words, this is someone's fancy way of getting us all involved in a chain letter. Or a chain blogging event. By telling us that we're transferring a unit of cultural information. I find it difficult to buy into. And who says I have six quirky behaviors anyway?
Oh, all right. Here you go. (huge sigh)
1. When left to my own devices, I never eat a proper meal. Instead I collect about three items from the cupboards and refrigerator and eat them sequentially. On rare occasions, I will actually put something on a plate. This seems to be my best form of eating because I lose weight (just enough) when I do this for long enough and gain weight when I eat actual meals.
2. I love writing. If allowed, I will not only spend all day either writing, thinking about writing or talking about writing, I will dream about my characters. Of course, I am not really allowed to do this. Job. Husband. Friends. Cats. heh.
3. I have a crazy imagination. In a normal conversation, I will suddenly get an idea for a story and launch into a "I was just thinking, what if...?" Some people don't react well to this. My husband looks at me like I'm an alien, especially when I ask these questions about news items. Me: What if he just admitted that he likes men? What do you think would happen? Him: He won't. He's a Republican. Me: I know, but what if he did? Him: He won't. Me; I know, but do you think it would be a big deal if he did? I mean, if he can meet men in a public restroom, then I don't see how it could be that bad. Does he think he can just hide in the stall and no one will recognize him? Him: (you-are-an-alien-stop-it-right-now look)I have no idea.
4. I have no sense of thirst. I sometimes forget to drink anything for days, until I am literally light-headed. I try to get myself to drink without a sense of thirst, but my abject failure at this proves to me the real reason why we have a sense of thirst in the first place. I don't know what happened to mine. It's just gone.
5. I am the world's worst procrastinator. Except for Mindie Kniss. She's worse than me. But she doesn't think of it as procrastinating. She just thinks of it as living. Which makes me worse, I think. I feel horribly anxious about it. I even feel anxious about Mindie's procrastiinatory behavior. I feel better having discovered that Annie Dillard is a pretty good procrastinator herself. (This sounds like something a homeopath could use to figure out a remedy for this quirk. You know, worse when thinking about Mindie's procrastination. Better when thinking about Annie Dillard. Any takers?)
6. If I could eat only one food for the rest of my life, it would be chocolate cake with frosting. As luck would have it, I'm an insulin-dependent diabetic and I'm allergic to wheat. I never, ever get to eat chocolate cake. I mean, I could. But it would make me feel terrible. Stupid biology.
Now I'm supposed to tag six people. I don't actually know that many bloggers. So I'll have to say Felicity and Mindie. And then I'll have to tell them. But now I need to stop procrastinating, go to the kitchen and eat three foods and then get some work done.
So here's the definition: n. A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another.
In other words, this is someone's fancy way of getting us all involved in a chain letter. Or a chain blogging event. By telling us that we're transferring a unit of cultural information. I find it difficult to buy into. And who says I have six quirky behaviors anyway?
Oh, all right. Here you go. (huge sigh)
1. When left to my own devices, I never eat a proper meal. Instead I collect about three items from the cupboards and refrigerator and eat them sequentially. On rare occasions, I will actually put something on a plate. This seems to be my best form of eating because I lose weight (just enough) when I do this for long enough and gain weight when I eat actual meals.
2. I love writing. If allowed, I will not only spend all day either writing, thinking about writing or talking about writing, I will dream about my characters. Of course, I am not really allowed to do this. Job. Husband. Friends. Cats. heh.
3. I have a crazy imagination. In a normal conversation, I will suddenly get an idea for a story and launch into a "I was just thinking, what if...?" Some people don't react well to this. My husband looks at me like I'm an alien, especially when I ask these questions about news items. Me: What if he just admitted that he likes men? What do you think would happen? Him: He won't. He's a Republican. Me: I know, but what if he did? Him: He won't. Me; I know, but do you think it would be a big deal if he did? I mean, if he can meet men in a public restroom, then I don't see how it could be that bad. Does he think he can just hide in the stall and no one will recognize him? Him: (you-are-an-alien-stop-it-right-now look)I have no idea.
4. I have no sense of thirst. I sometimes forget to drink anything for days, until I am literally light-headed. I try to get myself to drink without a sense of thirst, but my abject failure at this proves to me the real reason why we have a sense of thirst in the first place. I don't know what happened to mine. It's just gone.
5. I am the world's worst procrastinator. Except for Mindie Kniss. She's worse than me. But she doesn't think of it as procrastinating. She just thinks of it as living. Which makes me worse, I think. I feel horribly anxious about it. I even feel anxious about Mindie's procrastiinatory behavior. I feel better having discovered that Annie Dillard is a pretty good procrastinator herself. (This sounds like something a homeopath could use to figure out a remedy for this quirk. You know, worse when thinking about Mindie's procrastination. Better when thinking about Annie Dillard. Any takers?)
6. If I could eat only one food for the rest of my life, it would be chocolate cake with frosting. As luck would have it, I'm an insulin-dependent diabetic and I'm allergic to wheat. I never, ever get to eat chocolate cake. I mean, I could. But it would make me feel terrible. Stupid biology.
Now I'm supposed to tag six people. I don't actually know that many bloggers. So I'll have to say Felicity and Mindie. And then I'll have to tell them. But now I need to stop procrastinating, go to the kitchen and eat three foods and then get some work done.
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