Fiction Lunch Learning

Yesterday, my writer friend and I had a fiction lunch.  We both came with a short story; if it wasn't for these commitments, I don't know that I'd be writing any fiction at all.  I try not to think of past years, when I've written 1 story or more a week.  I remind myself that I wasn't blogging then.  I'm still writing a lot, just in different genres.

Yesterday's writer friend is from India, and I always pick up interesting nuggets from reading her stories.  Yesterday's story had a woman who married a tree.  The character's fortune (foretold by her Kundali, which I think is a Hindu form of determining the future, which is different from Kundalini, the yoga term) told her that her first husband would die, and thus, the marriage to the tree.

I assumed it was some kind of charming Indian magic realism, but my friend assured me such marriages are common in India.  She told me about one event where the woman was married to a goat, then the goat was killed and eaten at the marriage feast of the woman to her human husband.

Or was my friend telling me the plot of a story she'd written?  During our fiction lunches, it can be tough to tell.

As I say, I learn all sorts of things during our fiction lunches.  I had never heard of Kundali, which I will not be able to explain here, with its mathematical calculations and different dimensions.  So, there's one vocabulary word for your Friday.

Here's another:  Catoptromancy.

It means to tell the future by scrying.

You don't know the term scrying?  I didn't either.  It means to look at a reflective surface to tell the future.

Her story was doing all sorts of interesting things with the telling of the future by all sorts of means.  Her characters look into mirrors, her characters have their Kundali done.

My story, by contrast, was very rough--but that's what we've pledged, a complete rough draft.  I plan to go back and add more symbols:  stuff from The Wizard of Oz, Harriet Tubman imagery, plants.  I tried to write in 2 voices, but I suspect they both sound the same.

At some point, I need to return to these rough drafts I'm creating.  As my friend said yesterday, "What would happen if you thought of revision as sculpting?"

I need to make time for that sculpting!

Rainbows and Work Weeks

It's been a long several weeks at work.  I've been getting all my annual evaluations done, even though they're not due until Oct. 1.  In light of all the uncertainties, it seems wise to get them done. 

Our annual review process involves observing the faculty member teaching a class, preparation of lots of paperwork in advance of the annual reivew process, a meeting with the worker who's being evaluated, then more paperwork and some electronic forms and then the copying and the filing.  August and September were already going to be busy months for me, as half of my department has a hire date of Oct. 1.  With all the other disruptions, it's even more hectic this year.

Yesterday evening, thunderstorms rumbled through.  My office is close to an outdoor patio, and I sometimes go outside, just to take a break from staring at screens.  It's a fairly protected space; last night, I stepped outside to see what the weather was doing.

I turned to go inside, and part of my brain said, "Wait!  Is that a rainbow?"

I turned back and scanned the sky.  Sure enough, a rainbow!

My rational brain knows that rainbows are a result of water droplets and light fracturing into colors of the spectrum.

My optimistic brain sees a rainbow as a good sign.  I remember all those Sunday School lessons that presented rainbows as a symbol of God's grace, a promise that we're protected.

So, in a week where I interviewed for a job in the new organization of my school, in a week where I completed mounds of paperwork, in a week where I spent an astonishing amount of money on car repairs, it was good to see a rainbow.

Wednesday Wanderings: The Unwavering Hope Edition

--My interview went well.  It is a bit surreal to apply for a job that I'm already doing, that will change with the addition of one more coordinator in ways that no one quite understands just yet.  My current job will be split in two:  Coordinator of Communications/Humanities and Coordinator of Science/Math.  But it's not just a splitting of 1 job.  Other full-time folks will be RIFed, and it's hard to know where those duties will be redistributed.

--It's also strange to interview with people who have been my supervisors for 5-7 years.  Happily, they've had no problems with me. 

--In many ways, it's the best kind of job interview to have.

--I keep wondering if years from now I will look back on these blogs and wonder why I didn't mention the Presidential race.  So let me just say that it seemed appropriate to be ending the day with Michelle Obama's speech, where she was essentially interviewing for a job she already has.

--She had a much better interview outfit than I did.

--Am I the only one who thinks of the Mary Tyler Moore show whenever I see Michelle Obama?  I mean that as a compliment.  The character of Mary Richards is one of my all-time favorite characters, from TV or movies or any narrative, actually.

--I loved the narratives that Michelle Obama included:  her father working hard to make sure her school payments weren't late, Barack's grandma working hard to support her family.

--I so, SO needed to be reminded that even when we have no evidence that we're changing the world for the better, we are, if that's what we're trying to do.  One of the things I miss most about teaching is that I was sure I was affecting lives for the better.  I've had department members assure me that I am doing similar things on a departmental level, but it's not the same visceral feeling that comes from teaching.

--If you want to read or hear the speech, go here.

--Here are some choice quotes from Michelle Obama's speech:

     --"You see, Barack and I were both raised by families who didn't have much in the way of money or material possessions but who had given us something far more valuable – their unconditional love, their unflinching sacrifice, and the chance to go places they had never imagined for themselves."

     --"We learned about dignity and decency – that how hard you work matters more than how much you make...that helping others means more than just getting ahead yourself."


     --"And he [Barack] believes that when you've worked hard, and done well, and walked through that doorway of opportunity...you do not slam it shut behind you...you reach back, and you give other folks the same chances that helped you succeed."

     --"And he [Barack] reminds me that we are playing a long game here...and that change is hard, and change is slow, and it never happens all at once.


But eventually we get there, we always do.

We get there because of folks like my Dad...folks like Barack's grandmother...men and women who said to themselves, 'I may not have a chance to fulfill my dreams, but maybe my children will...maybe my grandchildren will.'

So many of us stand here tonight because of their sacrifice, and longing, and steadfast love...because time and again, they swallowed their fears and doubts and did what was hard.

So today, when the challenges we face start to seem overwhelming – or even impossible – let us never forget that doing the impossible is the history of this nation...it's who we are as Americans...it's how this country was built.

And if our parents and grandparents could toil and struggle for us...if they could raise beams of steel to the sky, send a man to the moon, and connect the world with the touch of a button...then surely we can keep on sacrificing and building for our own kids and grandkids."

     --"Because in the end, more than anything else, that is the story of this country – the story of unwavering hope grounded in unyielding struggle."



--It is good to remember that although political rhetoric can get very ugly, it can also be used for inspiration, for great good.  If I was teaching, I'd have my students analyze the speech both as political document, personal narrative, and history.  How successful was she?

--It would also be interesting to compare her speech to Ann Romney's.  That could lead to interesting compare and contrast essays.

--And it would be interesting to have students ponder what these candidate's wives say about us as a country.  What role does gender still play in our society?  And there's the intriguing race angle, the class angle.  Yes, lots could be done with these speeches.

Creative Labor Day: Grilling, Paint, and Mandolins, oh my!

Today at 2:00, I have my interview for my new job in the reorganization of my school.  My current job:  Chair of General Education.  The job for which I'll interview:  Coordinator of Communication/Humanities.

So, did I spend my Labor Day looking for an interview suit?  Buying new shoes?  No, I did not.  I will wear one of my more conservative outfits, but I did not buy anything new. 

I did spend some time thinking about the questions that I might be asked.  My spouse and I spent time talking about those questions.  In between, I did creative activities.

I started off Labor Day the way I start most days, by writing.  Any day that starts with writing is a good day for me.  Even if I get nothing else done, at least I'll have some writing at the end of the day.

Then we did some grilling.  It's fun to cook together, especially when we're not heating up the kitchen.

After lunch, I painted a canvas.  At the end of July, when my spouse's brother and his wife were visiting, their cousin (along with spouse and child) came to visit.  I felt bad for the 10 year old boy.  He didn't have many toys with him, and he was quickly bored.  I pulled out all the toys that we have for my nephew.  At one point, he saw our arts and crafts supplies, and his face lit up.  "Can we paint?"

Of course we could!  But at the end of the evening, there was much paint squeezed onto pallettes.  So I popped them into the freezer for another day.

Yesterday was that day.  My main objective was to use up the paint, instead of washing it down the drain.  But I always have fun swirling colors and seeing what develops.

Here's what developed yesterday.  I think I'll call it "Scuba Diving."

Later, my husband pulled out our mandolins.  For our 13th anniversary, in 2001, we bought a pair of mandolins.  We had every intention of teaching ourselves.  We worked hard for a month.  And then, the crush of fall schedules set in.

My spouse picked up the mandolin right away, since it's very similar to the violin, his childhood instrument.  I did not.  Yesterday, he put dots on our mandolin necks so that we'd know where the notes are. 

You could do the same thing for a violin; in fact, that's how he got the idea.

It took me about 20 minutes to understand how the dots correspond to notes on the staff, but then I was off and running.

I'm still not playing very quickly, but by the end of the day, I could pick out "This Land Is Your Land."  Hurrah!  Thanks, Woody Guthrie!

It's so much easier to maintain enthusiasm when I'm hearing songs I recognize.  It's so much easier to play songs I recognize with these dots to help me.

Now, if I could only figure out an easy way to tune the darn thing!  Yes, we have an electronic tuner, and yes, I still find it hard.

So, I face the journey today fortified by the creative work of yesterday.  It may not have been what the Labor Movement had in mind, but it is in the spirit of that Movement:  the knowledge that there must be balance, there must be time off, there must be time for more than manual labor.

Choose Your Own Labor Adventure

Another Labor Day, with the whole day off--what better time to think about labor, my own and others?

Or maybe I want to think about how strangely I'm being forced to think about the future right now.  It's a very post-modern place I've inhabited for the past week:  I have to act/plan as if several possible futures might occur.

Most simply, I may or may not have my job in a few weeks.  I've decided I won't start planning aggressively until I know about the outcome of my application for a variation of my current job.  But in the meantime, I still have some decisions to make.  I've got staffing to do.

Yet it makes no sense to make staffing decisions.  Several of the people staffing classes have applied for these new jobs.  Each decision could have an impact on the schedule of fall classes, specifically who is teaching what.

I'm living in a choose your own adventure kind of text (if Penny and Sue decide to enter the cave, go to page 15; if they get on the spaceship, go to page 44).

In the meantime, I'm getting several versions of my job search materials ready, another kind of choose your own adventure text.  If I'm applying for creative non-fiction jobs, I'll put this material earlier on the CV.  If I'm going down the administrator road, I'll move this chunk here.  If I'm hoping for a poetry job, I'll go into more detail here, less there.

At the same time, I'm playing with other ideas.  Could we have a real adventure?  Buy a sailboat and see what happens?  Take off to see the country in an RV?  How long could we make our savings stretch?

Could we make art that would sell?  Could we be the rare Etsy success?

Is it time to think about school?  Could we find a cheaper program?  I don't want to take on debt that's equal to my retirement savings, just to get a degree that may or may not bring in money.

And before I go too much further, let me take a moment to think about how far I've come, since the last time I was thinking about alternative career choices in the near future.

The last time I was seriously on the job market was 2006 or so.  Back then, I only had one chapbook published, but now I have 2.  In 2006 I had not started blogging yet; now I keep 2 blogs, and I'm also a paid blogger at the Living Lutheran site.  I've been paid for my writing:  prayers and religious meditations and magazine articles and being a poetry judge.  That hadn't happened in 2006.

I've done more literary readings and presented more at conferences, but I'd done some of that in 2006, so those activities are a continuation.  But I've also been a conference organizer for the past few years.  Long ago, in college, I organized a conference or two.  Organizing a conference uses many of the same skills as being an administrator.

In 2006, I had no idea that I was about to take this department administrator path.  I'd been an adjunct coordinator in the mid-90's, which was a similar position.  But in 2006, I firmly believed I was in a school where no one up the ladder would ever go anywhere, and thus, there would be no job openings.

Now, I look up the job ladder, astonished to see that everyone except for 1 person in administrative positions above me was not in administrative positions in 2006.  All but 2 are new to our school since 2006.

It's interesting to think about how my CV has changed since 2006; it's also interesting to think about how the trajectory has been similar.

Those choose your own adventure stories train us falsely.  In real life, just because we went to page 52 doesn't mean we're stuck on that path.  We can go back to page 8 and make different choices.  We can pick up a different book.

Of course, I meet many people who are stuck, but mainly because of their own attitudes:  "What if that school wants a freshly minted Ph.D., and they discover how old I am?"  Or we're stuck because we don't want to move.  We have families and houses and pets that keep us firmly rooted in place.

But again, I think that's false.  It's our brains that keep us rooted.  It's our brains that can't think in terms of alternative futures, our brains that can't hold several possibilities at once.

Maybe it's time to go back to read those choose your own adventure texts.  Maybe it's time to write some for grown ups.  When we were young, we could think of a future where we'd perform on Broadway and hike the Appalachian Trail from Georgia to Maine and join an intentional community that helped rescue Central Americans from repressive regimes and write three novels and create 2 quilts and create a farm that was also a retreat center.  That was my particular choose your own adventure text circa 1984-1986. 

That girl still exists in my brain.  She's a bit rusty when it comes to contemplating multiple possibilities at one time.  But she still has that skill.

Define Creative Non-Fiction Please

My dad always told us that we should keep our resumes circulating, even if we liked our current jobs.  He said we'd be sure to have a current resume if we always kept one in circulation, and besides, you just never know what might happen. 

I've seen enough people of various generations laid off to know that's good advice.  I've kept my job search materials up to date, and when I'm bored, I'll peruse the job ads.

I found this one yesterday for an assistant professor at Towson University in Maryland:

"Position: Creative Non-Fiction Writing specialist. Sub-fields may include lyric essay, free-lance writing, editing, prose style, memoir, and/or rhetoric. Candidates must possess a demonstrated commitment to teaching and evidence of an active creative agenda, generally shown by a book or several significant journal publications."

If this position sounds interesting to you, here's the full posting:  http://careers.insidehighered.com/towson-university/assistant-professor-english-creative-non-fiction-writing-specialist-cla-n-2610/job/436398

Here's an interesting question for me:  what constitutes a non-fiction writing specialist these days?  I'm assuming that it's a much broader field than it used to be, back when only a handful of journals that published creative non-fiction essays existed.  But would someone like me fit their idea?

I'm a paid blogger, after all; I've had 26 blog posts at Living Lutheran.  I've had 4 essays that were published in The Lutheran, a magazine with a circulation of 280,000.  Would those publications count as "evidence of an active creative agenda"?  I think so.  Would the job search committee?

I've also written prayers for Bread for the Day for two years in a row.  In my mind, prayers are a whole different category, but they go with the other devotional material I've written.

Once upon a time, I wouldn't have dared mention anything religious in a job search.  Lately, however, it's impossible to ignore that religious writing still has quite a market, unlike other kinds of writing.  I've written all sorts of stuff:  poetry, essays, fiction, all sorts of short pieces--but the religious writing has paid much more than the others.

All that other material might count in my favor, I'd think.  And of course, it's easy to show I possess a demonstrated commitment to teaching.

I have a friend who would read this ad, or any ad for an assistant professor position, and she'd assume they would rather have someone straight out of grad school.  I'd ask her how a recent grad student shows a commitment to teaching.  She'd say that most grad students do some teaching while in grad school.  She may be right.  I taught at my university and at the local community college while I was in grad school.  I'd have told you that I possessed a demonstrated commitment to teaching.  

But now, 20 years after completing my Ph.D., I'd say that I have an even deeper commitment.  I've taught a wide variety of classes:  writing classes of all sorts, literature classes from the beginning to the upper level classes for majors, creative writing classes of all kinds.  I've not only taught, but I've created curriculum.  I've created whole programs.

I look at these ads and think, maybe they'd like someone who knows what she's doing and who has had a lot of unique experiences.

It's interesting to daydream about the future with people, to see how we react.  The idea of going back to school thrills some, but not others.  I have friends who have multiple small businesses they'd love to try, while other friends want to make sure they keep their health insurance.  Some of us still hold out hope for a dream job yet others are hoping to limp along until retirement on whatever they can piece together.

I'm the one who dreams of returning to school as a student in a different program while also holding out hope for that dream job.  But which dream job?  I have more than one . . .

Bad Manners Night and Classroom Electronics

I was talking to a friend who teaches at a state university--not the flagship university, but not the teeny-tiny regional backwater either.  She's in a First Year Experience kind of program:  all the entering first-year students go into these classes where they read the same book and learn to write college-level papers and are guided through college-coping skills.

She told me about an experiment she's trying.  After years of banning cell phones and texting and more and more draconian punishments, she decided to give the students ownership.  First, she led discussion sessions where students analyzed why they wanted to text during the middle of this expensive educational experience.  She had them try an experiment:  for one class, they would use no electronic devices.  In fact, she had them all take notes by hand.  She reminded them that it was just for one hour.  They never had to do it again, if they didn't want to.

They tried an alternate experiment.  For one day, they had no rules when it came to electronics.  They could text, they could make and take calls, they could update their social media sites.

It reminds me of my dad's experiment which my family still remembers vividly:  Bad Manners Night.  For one dinner, we could behave however we wanted.  We could pick food up with our hands.  We could put our faces in our plates.  We could slurp and chomp and chew vigorously with mouths wide open.  Suddenly, we understood why etiquette rules exist.

The students decided that they liked the electronics-free class better.  They were amazed at how much more information they retained when they took notes by hand.

My friend, their teacher, gently reminded them that they didn't need to remember and memorize every little particle of every piece of information from every class.  She's noticed that each year's students seem increasingly frantic and concerned about retaining information.  They record and take notes and panic when they can't remember.  She tries to get them to focus on determining what's important to remember and what's not.

I'll be interested to hear how her experiment progresses as the semester continues.  Will the students continue to ban electronics from their classroom?  Will they decide that they want the freedom to type quickly?

And I'll be interested to hear about this kind of experiment in future years.  What would my friend do if her class had a fairly even split, if half the class wanted to use electronics and half wanted to ban them?