29 March 2014

Junot Diaz (!!!) Coming to Bloomington...

Junot Diaz
Photo: Nancy Crampton
"It wasn't that I couldn't write. I wrote every day. I actually worked really hard at writing. At my desk by 7 A.M., would work a full eight and more. Scribbled at the dinner table, in bed, on the toilet, on the No. 6 train, at Shea Stadium. I did everything I could. But none of it worked. My novel, which I had started with such hope shortly after publishing my first book of stories, wouldn't budge past the 75-page mark. Nothing I wrote past page 75 made any kind of sense. Nothing. Which would have been fine if the first 75 pages hadn't been pretty damn cool. But they were cool, showed a lot of promise. Would also have been fine if I could have just jumped to something else. But I couldn't. All the other novels I tried sucked worse than the stalled one, and even more disturbing, I seemed to have lost the ability to write short stories. It was like I had somehow slipped into a No-Writing Twilight Zone and I couldn't find an exit. Like I'd been chained to the sinking ship of those 75 pages and there was no key and no patching the hole in the hull. I wrote and I wrote and I wrote, but nothing I produced was worth a damn.

Want to talk about stubborn? I kept at it for five straight years. Five damn years. Every day failing for five years?..."

(follow link above to read more.)

Junot Díaz's novel The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (Riverhead) won the Pulitzer Prize in 2008.

I'm a Writer!

Recently:

I have nearly completed a sequel to 2013 Noble Literature winner, Alice Munro's short story, Post and Beam. It is about the continuing lives of her characters, Lionel and Polly. I have contacted Munro's publisher's assistant to see if this is legal and asked a question or two. I have also requested permission from the Alice Munro Festival organizers to enter my short story into their writing contest.

I have revised and submitted 4 short stories and my first poem for grading at IU. Of these, I am in love with 2 of the 5 pieces. One of the others will become a novel, which I will continue to work on, one is meaningless, and the other is mediocre at best.

I'm surprised by my poem, meaning I didn't expect to write a poem that was not trash and that I liked. It evokes a bunch of emotion (as does my favorite short story) which I deem as way more important than following all of the poetry norms.

I am also surprised by how nervous I am at people reading my stuff. It's very similar to displaying paintings or drawings for critique. I care a lot less about the grade I get, but yearn for feedback.

I have decided that I would love to create paintings that reflect my stories/poems, and when compiled have prints of these works alongside the writing. I have yet to research any authors who have done this in the past.