January 24, 2007
THIS LITTLE PIGGY IS READING WHEN SHE CAN AND PACKING HER BAGS
RECENTLY
Very short fiction of mine appear in the latest wet ink, a lovely magazine from Adelaide. One of them, Regurgitation, appears online.
PACKING
I am preparing for my second trip to the US after being home for a mere 2 months. Who would have thought that the fallout of travelling to the States last September would result in my current chilled out state? After the Department of Homeland Security and Domestic Travel in the US, everything else is bliss. Carving out writing time is like a perfect movie where the heroine faces several final tests before Shangri La.
RECOMMENDING
I have been reading less novel length work and more short fiction, usually in magazines and reviews. I did finish reading the Atlantic Monthly Fiction Issue. Gorgeous story by Lauren Groff. And more great ones from Cynthia Ozick and Tim Gautreaux. I couldn't get into the Richard Russo -- long passages with italics killed me off and I am probably missing lovely fiction--I watched Empire Falls on DVD--what a story!
ENVIRONMENT
It was hard to think, some days ago, of Victorian fires still burning in much of the state; the smoke was pretty heavy in Melbourne on most days. After a few clear ones, I stopped thinking so much about it. Someone told me the wind had even blown the smoke into Sydney. 3rd stage water restrictions here means that you cannot wash cars except for windscreens and lights. I must ring the council about the food vehicles because safety laws require clean transport.
RESOURCES
Since the cafe, all resources have been stretched so I've been on fetch-and-carry duty lots. I barely think more than a few hours at a time (hence my reference to being chilled out). New Years day found us driving two vehicles down to Falls Festival to get there by 7am. I have decided that I don't like getting up at 3 in the morning. Took my notebook but was too stunned to do any writing; even my usual quick jotting of notes deserted me.
SECOND USE
My mother-in-law asked me if I could help a friend of hers who had written an article, a question of rights. Today, I finished a very interesting article in the latest Harpers by Jonathan Lethem, The Ecstasy of Influence. A fabulous read. I had crossed paths with plagiarism; what is borrowed, stolen, unfairly used, the suits, the pros and cons, and up till now only had lukewarm beliefs about the phenomenon. True, I had been moved to strong feelings when a story I had reviewed by a writer friend turned up to win the Stony Brook prize (for undergraduates). It had been lifted almost in its entirety by a student of Joyce Carol Oates. Nothing happened. No apology even to the author who had little money and time to pursue the matter. Happens the same way when one goes to try claiming off insurance, the time and trouble is more than the claimant is willing to pay. But in Lethem's article are the finer nuances of borrowing, and in contexts that I had not never thought about before.
A passage that entranced, from the article: The world of art and culture is a vast commons (ie., a commons belongs to everyone and no one, its use controlled only by common consent)... The closest ressemblance is to a commons of a language; altered by every contributor, expanded even by the most passive user. That a language is a commons doesn't mean the community owns it, rather it belongs between people, possessed by no one and not even by society as a whole.
He also makes a distinction about art belonging in a gift economy and a market economy. Worthwhile reading.
SOON
More later about February and the AWP panel in Atlanta where I shall be on an online panel with some wonderful gifted writers.
Posted by girija tropp at 12:21 AM | Permalink
September 21, 2006
Midway in Belize
Still recovering from the flight over. The Quantas flight into the US was fairly easy. I can't say the same for flights within the US. If I had known about the scary toy plane from JFK with Delta where I got yelled at by a luggage attendant, I would have gone with another airline. Next time, I will be wiser.
But this place (Blancaneaux Lodge) is magic. Doing lots of workshopping (relatively new experience for me), and not sure if I like it or if this works for me. However the other writers are wonderful, as well as the workshop leaders, and Zoetrope editors.
Yesterday, we had small break in the writing schedule and went to the Mayan ruins in Caracol--with an armed escort since there have been 'incidents'! A reading in the evening. More writing today.
I think I'm homesick but it is still early days.
Posted by girija tropp at 10:29 AM | Permalink
March 02, 2006
The things to do for family and to put bread on the table
1. Woke up thinking of ideas I was going to put down for another excercise--and knowing that it would be awhile b4 I got to do any writing.
1b. Did my Tai Chi Chi Kung... it was just turning light, 6.30 am.
2. Made 2 different breakfasts. One for me and my son Zev: Lamb neck soup (toast for him)... me, I was waiting to see if they are lefover friands from the commercial kitchen. Spinach omlettes in roti for the big boys. While they ate, I tried to help with taking the friands out of the trays... they yelled "your gloves are wet" "don't squeeze them" "push them up from the bottom" "put them down in straight lines"
There were friands leftover.
3. Washed up and put ginger water on for chai. Sat down with two pumpkin chilli chocolate friands. Went to heaven.
4. Started my writing list with: I saw a man in an Italian suit trotting down the freeway... Filled 3 pages.
5. Finshed making the chai and took it over to the commercial kitchen.
6. Got my rock crystal lamp out of the bedroom and put it on my writing table and went back to my list.
Posted by girija tropp at 11:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)
January 09, 2006
Will sell books for money
This weekend, my friend Rita initiated me into the mysteries of having a market stall for the sole purpose of getting rid of some of my worldly possessions. She's a good woman, Rita. Without her, I wouldn't know what to wear so I can look decent.
I got up at 5 am after enrolling Hal, my partner, as a grumbling helper. I had been anxious all week about forty-degree heat waves. I might be originally from the Indian sub-continent but I don't like it hot. Have you got a spare hat, I whined to Rita. And an umbrella?
Tani who happens to be working for us today told me that it got up to fifty-two degrees at the Confest (hippie-like festival on the border of Victoria and NSW). Women were using spray bottles to cool their babies. People were standing in the lake and a hot wind was blow drying everyone.
But it was cool on my Sunday market morning. I came out of the house and then went back in to get my jacket. Watch out for dealers, Rita text'd me... after letting me know that she was running a half-hour late. They come with torches at 5.30 am and make you hand over the goods. Hal turned down into the exit lane because there was not many cars coming out. It was closer to our spot, he explained, and after putting my stuff out, went to park the car. We were under a tree and I worried about visibility. A couple of persons came over and tried to look inside the bottom-most box in the trolley. They asked, Have you got fiction? Maybe, I thought to myself, someone will buy the lot and I'll get to go home to bed. And I'll be able to do writing. And after I've done some of that, I'll feel better about myself.
I'd brought some magazines to read before they were sold. I was hoping for co-ordination. I did have a whole heap of computer books for older versions of graphics software but was sure they wouldn't sell. Rita turned up in her four-wheel drive and said, Is that all you got?
I went to get a rack from the hire place but this was a mistake because it was bigger than me. I returned for reinforcements and Hal was back so I pressed him into service. By eight o'clock, I was feeling good. It wasn't too hot yet and here I was chatting to Rita while people wandered in handling all the junk laid out for their benefit. It felt like I had gone out visiting friends and put out a collection hat. We were having cups of tea and I took out the brie from my esky. Hal was moaning about the lack of leaf tea. Then there was a run on my computer books. Someone told me off for selling them cheaply; said I'd get a packet for them on ebay. But I am not going down that track--don't have a minute to spare between my writing, my blog, my kids and being gopher for the family business.
That tree was a miracle. Each time I wentured out, I had to strip down--the sun was out in force. Hal sold more computer books while I was gone. My novels, out the front on trestle tables, started to wilt in the heat. One older lady asked me for the price on a recent issue of the Missouri review and I said $3.00. She put it down and walked off in a huff. Geez. My books had been immaculate when they arrived but now I could see thumb prints. Can you tell that I'm obsessive?
By closing time, it was hot everywhere but under my tree. I had money in my pocket from my computer books, Rita had cut her junk by half and Hal was surprised that it had been such a relaxed experience. Nothing like a food stall, he said, where you have to worry about running out of eating material, and having to heat stuff up and keep temperatures just so. I started thinking that I wouldn't mind doing this again, under this perfect tree, on another perfect day.
Posted by girija tropp at 08:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)
December 30, 2005
How does one start when one is starting
I am almost done starting.
Got most of my linking handled. I wept kittens over deciding my favorite books and films. And I've yet to put content into my 'Navigate' section.
The birth of the blog started like:
Woke up feeling slightly guilty about holidays and sleeping in (mind you it was late when I turned in).
Did my Tai Chi Chi Kung and some other stuff which is supposed to make me feel really good, especially when going through the MT user manual on how to set up a first entry.
Wished I was eating icecream with the lovely chocolate sauce that my partner has invented (we have a food business--hospitality is full of artists).
Made myself a chicken miso soup - a great resource for conquering the day ahead.
Wondered how I was going to put all that I was interested in communicating in a blog without overwhelming anyone -- I have the same kind of problem with my social life.
Checked the Ms Snark agent site and knew for sure that I did not have what it takes to be a literary agent--she's doing a synopsis-readathon with comments which gives a great window into the other side. I now feel a new respect for these guys.
Posted by girija tropp at 11:12 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)