Sometime soon a book is coming out. The author and I were in a class together. I wrote a story. Doesn’t matter what it was on. Two weeks later she wrote an almost identical story.
I wasn’t supposed to think she stole from me but was “inspired by.” If being “inspired by” paid bills or garnered something I wouldn’t care. Maybe she did think of it on her own. But I would never hand in something almost identical to another person’s two weeks later. Now the story doesn’t belong to me but to her. I have no idea if it’s in the book or not. It was in the very first draft.
I stopped taking classes as I grew tired of teachers telling me after class how they would save my stuff for last as it was always interesting, and they loved reading my work so so much, etc. I was always the one who almost made it. Somebody else would.
I grew tired of that world. The world of New York where people all think a certain way. Problem is I don’t know how else to think. Or how to think as I don’t just look at the bottom line.
I have wants and needs also. But I’m supposed to smile and applaud when somebody else makes it and I can’t anymore.
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Wouldn’t it be nice if I figured out what the hell I’m doing? I saw a free Beach Boys concert without Brian but with Dean of Jan & so I’m kind of feeling like the Little Old Lady of Pasadena except I’m not really old, not little and not from Pasadena. I have only been there once actually.
I don’t usually feel lonely or alone. Ironically this struck after firming up plans that begin next week. Now I’m doubting myself. Wondering what I’m doing. Why am I here when the weather hasn’t exactly been anything to boast about except for Friday and Saturday and I had bronchitis and am scared that the extremely windy conditions are going to lead pollen straight to my nose and bronchial trachea.
It’s hard to admit loneliness when I have always been so independent but I have always had friends to run to. I’m writing about parts of my life that weren’t the best and do make me depressed but I’m getting paid to do this so…It’s as if non verbal learning disorder is a verboten subject.
It’s not Asperger’s and it’s not bi-polar so who cares? I do. I just didn’t want to be the face of it or the voice or whatever. It makes me problematic. I’m the person people love but just can’t hire. Except for this article and I do feel grateful about that.
Yes people contact me and ask if they can use a post for this and pay me, and they would love to use more. But uh my archives….I’m a compulsive cleaner–the disorder that NLVD or NLD brings had to go somewhere. It went into my archives. I had to teach myself everything. I was my own life coach and it’s not easy. I don’t dissolve into pity parties often. This isn’t one. This is what life’s like with a disorder few people know about, and nobody is going to give me points or a break for having overcome much as the disorder is so invisible. It only hurts me.
Do you have any idea what it’s like to be the one who almost makes it? What about my feelings? I don’t exist just to cheer others on though I love it when people I know make it. I want to be cheered on. I’m overly honest, I know and am breaking many rules by writing this post
What can anybody do? Banish me from New York to South Carolina?
This isn’t bitterness talking nor is it envy. It’s facts. I’m just a bit too much work and there is always somebody who might not be as talented or might be more, but can put together a perfect package.
I can’t even do a proper outline so I have to write a damn book before shopping it and I don’t want to spend my days and nights immersed in the worst times of my life when I could be listening to beach music in clubs.
I’m older than the person who wrote the book that’s coming out soon and have been telling that story for many many years. I want credit. Or I want to understand why I’m supposed to feel good about inspiring?
What’s in that for me? I’m sorry if this isn’t sportsman like but I have worked damn hard. I’m talented. I want also….And most of all I think a person should have the decency not to hand in a story two weeks after somebody else handed an almost identical one.
That made me feel as if I’m worthless. It was a slap in the face as if I was invisible and hadn’t read two weeks earlier. Only she counts. Push me to the side and pretend I don’t exist.
No this isn’t how Columbines begin. It’s how self-doubt festers and dreams die.
If you don’t know Jan’s story, it’s one of the most tragic in all rock history. “Dead man’s curve” is scarily prescient. Dean is 65 if a day and drop dead gorgeous. At least from a distance.
I was one of the many thousands of girls, in the early-mid 60’s who couldn’t stand being a “good girl.” As I was about thirteen, too young and scared to do anything about my status, this song stood in for me.
It wasn’t one of those annoying sweet songs. And I will take it over present day pop any day.
It broke boundaries. It didn’t sound like any other song. It told a story. The Shangri-Las’ were one of a kind. More like the “angry young men” in British films than the Beatles. I always was a Stones girl
It made me daydream. It made me want a bad boy so badly. That it was by girls from Long Island, not Brooklyn or some place girls were known to be bad only made it that much better.
I have a CD of early 60’s death songs that has a bonus track; Leader of the Laundromat. I think that’s supposed to make a statement but I have never figured it out.
On Monday I’m having my hair dyed and highlit. For the first time in over 30 years my hair is being touched by somebody who isn’t a good friend. I think that means I’m settling in.
The three reasons c.s. listed for awarding this are:
1. the ability to hook - there are writers who are capable of using the right words and arranging them in the right order in the right structure to generate in readers an addiction. has bestowed upon me this award
2. imagery skill - there are those who are so good at creating images with words that it makes you wonder if they already knew how to write when they were still in their mothers’ wombs.
3. the ‘wow’ factor - then there are people who, through their words and stories, just simply ‘wow’ you. it’s like the moment you start reading, you ‘wow’. halfway through your reading, you ‘wow’. at the end of the reading, you ‘wow’. as you think about what you have read, you just ‘wow’, ‘wow’ and ‘wow’.
Guatami added:
1) Impact: Some people have that ability to get across what they want to say in a a forceful manner. Thet can do it with flourish and unintentionally.
2) Beauty: A few have the ability to create beauty in our minds with their sheer use of language. Their words have eloquence.
3) Hooking factor: Then there are those who keep you hooked for more. You want to go on reading their posts.
This is the first blogging award I have taken truly seriously. The above speaks for itself–especially love “flourish and unintentionally. I’m having a hard time adding to this list.
1) Thoughts: Some people express their thoughts with such eloquence and power they shake my thinking up. Or reinforce it.
2) Humor: Without humor we merely exist. I’m in awe of people who can continually make me laugh in blog posts as I find it difficult to impart my humor to paper
3) Passion: true passion incorporates elements of all the above. Passion can be for words, thoughts, causes and much more. Passion makes me want to keep reading. Passion keeps me awake all night. Passion leaves me wanting more. Passion is an essential element. Passion is beauty.
The easiest example is Robert Caro’s The Power Broker It’s easiest for me as it’s a long book that can’t be skimmed or read in a night I canceled all plans and spent the weekend reading it. That was 20something years ago and I still reread it and talk about it.
Strunk & White Elements of Style is a simple book on using words yet is one of the most passionate powerful books I have ever read, reread and still not completely absorbed.
Passion is power. Words are powerful. To use words and be able to make people react is what writing is all about. We forget that in blogging. We want people to react in comments. We go for the easy, the cute, the overtly funny. I can be Al Franken in drag like nobody else. But I don’t really want to be him, and frankly have come to disdain my earnest self. So I’m a renegade blogger who no longer cares about “blogging success” but improving my writing. Writing is the most important thing to me after family, friends and my new obsession with selling my apartment.
The seven bloggers I’m going to give this to will all want to kill me–however all have influenced me in ways big and small. I have watched them grow as writers, bloggers and people. Each uses words uniquely and often brilliantly. Each defines blogging to suit them, not to suit what people say blogging should be. Cooper MizBohemia Bone Doug Esoteric Wombat Jason Jonathan
Yes I know I was going to give out The Courting’s in January. These are the people who were going to get them, and I might tell the exact reasons in a future post.
Steven Colbert wrote Maureen Dowd’s column and he claims Frank Rich’s too.
This is the anniversary of my mom’s death and I turn back into a person tomorrow. A person who has to focus on selling an apartment and other realities of life. Will be at blogs during the week.
Can America begin to right a grievous wrong and elect a great president? Draft Gore,
Blogfriday
I have romanticized very few celebrities in my life. That’s not to say I haven’t been caught up in celebritymania, or taken men in my life and made them into celebrities in my own mind. But true celebrities: Alan Bates, Eric Clapton and James Spader. Continue Reading »
Closing comments. Will be home in two weeks. This is a working on book retreat. Will return in several weeks. It will be my only post of the week except for public service announcements like the following post. Will try to make my 3WW’s light and fun like buggers in his nose
Here’s a link to my interview with Jancee Dunn
We have so much in common. She’s from Jersey. I’m from Long Island. Both home to big hair in the 80’s. Both home to rock persona’s and great bar bands.
She writes for Rolling Stone I read it. The person I call Noah used to write poetry in Rolling Stone Unlike me he’s a good poet, but and I will say this to his face I might be as good a writer. Gave writing up because when I was about nineteen he told me that I was a better writer than he was Doubt he remembers. Would never want to make him feel guilty as he’s a truly good person. He claims to read this blog. Sure. Do know he’s proud.
We were kids. Cooper has Melanie videos. He loved Melanie and Donovan, me not so much. We had a life size cut-up of Donovan. I wasn’t sure if we had an apartment or a record store. But enough about…
Jancee was from the land of shag carpets. So was I. Now I’m in the Shag Capital, North Myrtle Beach and this is Shag week. People come from all over to listen to music and dance. They begin early in the morning and go to late at night.
Jancee was a VJ for MTV1. I watched MTV. My dad starred in a commercial for MTV that I will get out of video and onto DVD and in here. It was a pretty famous commercial at the time–regular people who watch MTV. I knew every person in the series and there wasn’t anything regular about any of them. Continue Reading »
The amazing Cooper had a five things meme. She tagged anybody who commented. I will tag anybody who feels like doing this.
1 In the interest of blog security I somehow deleted my own blog tool bar. I got it back with one click after countless seconds of wondering.
2 I would like to have a book published before I can cash in my IRA without a penalty.
3 I could have for sure, definitely, probably possibly maybe have been in The New York Times today in an article on bloggers interviewing authors. I rejected that interview because the book is called The Late Bloomers Revolution. Late blooming meaning in the 30’s. if the 30’s is late blooming than I’m___? Society is supposed to be going through an ageing revolution. Am I supposed to sit around and make lace doilies?
Am I being offensive for saying this? I do like shaking things up.
I know that it’s not sportsman-like, bad karma and more to say what I said above. But damn I’m not ready for the Mick Jagger Home For Wayward People 40+. Neither are any of my friends. If this ruins my karma then it wasn’t real anyway. It’s sad to equate late blooming to 30something when many people now don’t move out of the parental nest until….Isn’t it considered hip to change careers later in life? Here in New York, many people begin searching for a new career in our 40’s and 50’s, simply because retirement is a nice fantasy. Most people do enjoy being productive no matter what age.
That all said, I would interview any blogger who has a book published even if we don’t happen to get along, or the book praises Bin Laden–well maybe not him, and I have spoken to enough Holocaust revisionists when I was a political blogger to know that they’re just pure scum. Continue Reading »
Grace Paley was an amazing writer. With her death, my parents generation of women writers, arguably comes to a close
In the 80’s writing workshops were different. They focused more on good writing and less on marketability. I actually enjoyed them. There wasn’t the competitive aura there is now. I had a much published workshop teacher who was always pushing me to submit to the many prestigious lit magazines that seem to have disappeared. Continue Reading »
Overheard on the Upper West Side: Are you sure you’ll feel good enough to go out tomorrow? You sound windy. I have never heard “windy” used in that context and was left with endless thoughts on what it could be.
If you read me through Google reader or an RSS feed, I take posts down. I edit endlessly on occasion, usually when I have something much more pressing to do. They stay cached in Google. I don’t find myself to be endlessly fascinating. I probably take down the best posts. I’m also going through a “who cares what I think” period which is death for a blogger.
Who cares if I don’t think that Harry Potter or for that matter Oprah made the world read again? I can’t imagine life without books but I’m older and thus old fashioned.
It makes me sad that I want to write about how the whole Harry Potter thing is a crock, but feel I will be demonized That kids who like to read other genres are actually at a disadvantage because Harry is so stressed, fawned on and read.
Sara Gruen just got a five million dollar book contract because she relates well to animals and writes half decently.
Animals? We care more about pets than people. I have nothing against animals and hope to have some pets when I move.
I gave up on the Stephanie Plum books after the second or third as they all began to feel like one, but I will take a female bounty hunter over any animal.
I like the animals I read about to have two legs and not be cavemen. Or fantasy creatures. There’s something reasurring to read about human foibles. I am partial to good mysteries because they explore the human condition so well. Good memoirs and good fiction do the same thing. Good is of course subjective.
I think we have lost something basic in our zeal to embrace the Internet era. We have lost the face to face encounters that are basic to our need to grow. We have lost true solitude that can also be necessary to regroup and face the world again.
Our choice of reading materials shows that disconnect. We don’t care enough to read about basic human interactions. Instead we chose fantasy and animals.
I can’t be held to a schedule this summer but I will have an interview with a woman who wrote a memoir I really like this coming week or the next.
I have reached that stage in life where I pray that every student at Virgina Tech has a cell and could easily reach their parents
This is beyond belief. I used to believe in The Second Amendment for various reasons. I can’t anymore. IF GUNS AREN’T GOING TO BE OUTLAWED MAKE BULLETS VERY VERY EXPENSIVE
¢¢¢ Darianna nominated me for two bloggers choice awards
I don’t really believe in blogs competing against one another. I can’t even find my blog. And there’s a totally snarky category for “worst blog of all time.” Personally I find that offensive.
I do believe in bloggers solidarity. That all said, if you’re going to vote for me, when you get to the site put in courtingdestiny.com and it leads straight to my blog
But it’s a gray and dismal day. We had 6.5 inches of rain. What does that have to do with a blogging award? I always wanted to write “it’s a gray and dismal day.”
Thanks Darianna who is promoting one million blogs for peace a very worthy cause. They hope to have a million blogs by the fifth anniversary. I hope we’re out by then, but we do have an administration that believes in escalating the war.
Yesterday I got particularly virulent spam from piatanidotcom. My middle name is Tani. It’s in the blog somewhere.
••••••••••
This isn’t a day to be at the computer or so I tell myself. It’s been pouring since the middle of the night. It took me a long time to wake up and realize that the sounds I heard were rain drops, and longer too remember to get up and close a window that left open surely would have caused a major flood.
A Barnes & Noble, at Astor Place, is closing because their rent is too high. If it’s too high for B&N?
A small bookstore owner mentioned how B&N forced Shakespeare & Co in my hood to close. I would have loved Shakespeare’s if not for the people who worked there, and maybe that played a part in its closing.
They let you know if they didn’t approve of a book you were buying. Why sell it if they deemed it not worthy? The reason is obvious. The editorializing not necessary.
They had a good mystery section but the workers didn’t seem to think mysteries were worthy. I tend to buy books from different sections, some considered “intellectually worthy,” and some not.
Were they trying to sell books or manage a small club of underemployed MFA’s and other literary types?
I mentioned this once at a small party and two out of the other five people had the same experience.
Perhaps we began to shop at B&N because nobody types you. Perhaps we began to shop at B&N because we felt more comfortable.
Perhaps Shakespeare’s went under because it didn’t treat all customers with respect
I wonder how the workers at Shakespeare’s would have greeted the proliferation of chick lit? I especially wonder that today because the second book that had its beginnings in my writing class, three years ago, just came out.
I read an interview with my writing teacher. He talked about the types of mistakes wanna be writers make; telling not showing and the like. Then he talked about organization, and how people who can’t organize a thought can’t organize a page let alone a book.
It’s not as if I feel so important that I think it was directed at me. But if he thought that about my work, I wish he would have told me rather than telling me how he saved my submission for last because he knew would always enjoy it.
I wish that when I contacted him for individual help last summer, he told me that I just wasn’t organized enough, rather than telling me that he was too busy and inviting me in to his next class.
There’s honesty and there’s honesty. Denigrating a person’s choice in books they’re buying is stupid when it comes from the people representing the book store. Telling a person that this or that problem hinders their marketability is hurtful but ultimately could be helpful.
Most of this book is written, yet I don’t dare shop it around because I haven’t come up with a good beginning. Each time I think I do, I come up with too many stories in one, and have to go further back into my life.
Honestly, I’m just not that interested in coming of age in high school stories. While I had a more than slightly interesting Senior Year, and probably some unique yet universal experiences, I was a kid with a completely different mentality than I had at 25. I feel the same way about college and I know I had fascinating experiences.
I’m much more interested in slow blooming coming of age while technically an adult stories. Maybe I do need to tell the high school and college stories. I have written most of them for one workshop or another.
My sister decided that my niece is old enough to hear some of my stories. I went to the school Jacquelin is going to now. I told her the real reason I was kicked out of Driver’s Ed. It’s not a pretty story. Maybe i do need to write it.
Thing is I have written, and rewritten, edited, revised, rewrote these stories so many times, I feel like a robot when I write them. Maybe that dispassion is needed. Being kicked out of Driver’s Ed led the way to many things.
Only I wasn’t ready to see that until now. I placed the blame on me. I’m prone to that.
I told the real story to my parents 20 years after the fact. They were the only people in town who didn’t know. I’m not going to say the reason I was kicked out, but it wasn’t true.
I shouldn’t have been too ashamed to tell my parents. They would have advocated for me, as they knew I had hidden disabilities that very possibly made it hard or impossible for me to learn to drive. I assume that was the reason they were given. Maybe I had to tell them. I don’t remember.
This is the school district that let me at twelve decide whether or not I wanted to be in the Honor’s Program. I’m really not willing to take this memoir back to Seventh Grade.
It’s so easy for me to write a synopsis when it comes to other writings and keep to it. When I come to my own life, the one thing I should be most expert at, I’m lost.
I know the story too well. There are no surprises, nothing to keep me fascinated. But then I come to certain realizations and realize that if I hadn’t replayed the story from so many different frames I would have never truly understood why things happened.
Maybe that’s the key to a good memoir, it allows the author to understand.
3WW (Three Word Wednesday) will be on Thursday night or Friday
I was sent this book to mention. It’s by a woman who used to work for Judith Regan. To assume that I would like any book debasing Regan just because I don’t like her is absurd. Continue Reading »
I'm Pia Savage. Just a writer with a blog title few people truly get. I suppose my destiny has taken me from the Upper West Side of Manhattan to Myrtle Beach as I barely heard of it eleven months ago. My email is Pia(dot)talks@gmail(dot)com.
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