This is my favorite Google search ever “Pia Space Chick” in Dutch.
I think I have been misunderstood. I wouldn’t want to be this person When I saw this article I realized that giving intimate details of ones life is now considered to be great writing, and that success comes to a few who articulate their spilling better than most
In my blog I talk about very personal things. Problems I have. My past. But I never really talk about the men in my life except for my father and the dead boyfriend–and I searched and found out that both his parents had died also.
Am I jealous of Emily Gould for rising so far so fast? Damn straight I am. Would I have wanted to rise by exposing such personal things about people I supposedly love. Maybe when I was in my 20’s, though even my best friends who knew everything else didn’t know all the details. We had a pact. Certain things were only discussed when our lives were being screwed up by whatever.
I do believe in paying dues. A friend’s daughter just finished her freshman year at an almost Ivy. She’s an artist and got a four inch conspicuous tattoo because she’s an artist and will never have to work in an office. Ha. She has to cover the tattoo for the summer.
On the other hand when I went to college many of my friends walked into positions of literary power in the early 70’s. While that was great I knew a few people who never learned the basics of working in an office, of saving money, of doing the things most of us take for granted. As they approach older age, really, though they don’t look or act it, they don’t have the security they need or want.
Life really is about building blocks. Going from one block to the next, and maybe throwing a few over. In my case I want the blocks to go straight up from now on–but I do have a strong foundation and have attempted to assure my financial future as much as possible. I do have to give myself credit and do have to say, I want more. Much more. And I have worked long and hard to achieve what I want.
I hope 2008 is the year of Pia. And Pia will always consider herself to be a blogger and glad for all it gave me. But it’s writing I love and writing for publications that aren’t blogs that I’m focusing on.
My friends will be in this coming week and then more friends are coming. It’s finally really summer and I’m just feeling good about everything.
Edwards was my first choice. Go Obama! Hopefully Edwards can explain to many why Obama’s health care plan makes so much more sense.
I’m supposed to be a “natural” Hillary supporter as I’m a middle aged New York Jewish woman with a graduate degree. I resent easy categorizations. That might be one of the many reasons I like Obama. “>Bone, thanks I guess for the words
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Any woman over 50 will tell you the neck doesn’t lie. Nora Ephron wrote a whole book about it. I thought I was one of the fortunate few when 45 came and went, and I was still thin, never easily, and still had a good face. That, ten and a few years ago, was when 40 was still older though I was convinced it wasn’t even the midpoint of youth.
Oh how I learned. I am so vain. When I gained weight and couldn’t get it off no matter what I did I thought of taking to my bed for the rest of my life. But that seemed self-defeating and really suicidal and I am neither.
I had never been an envious or jealous person and I became both. I began to envy women who had been “merely average,” and who had developed great exercise habits.
I moved from a very hilly area back to Manhattan and it took me a long time to realize that walking no longer cut it.
I had been working in social services and in my newest life, not in social services, I began meeting many women who would view me as “not competition.” This was of course not acceptable.
I began to remake myself. For the first time in my life I had to pay attention to everything about me. It’s not fun. I’m lucky. My face is still tight. I look better in longer hair, as long as it’s straight, than in short hair.
I have reclaimed myself. I’m not a competitive person. I truly want to live in a world where people help each other. But in the years of my discontent I learned that women in certain industries talk a good game but in reality….
A book is coming out soon. The author is much younger than I am. We were in a class together. I wrote a story. Two weeks later she handed in an almost identical one. I don’t know if it made past the first draft of her book but…To her I was nothing. Invisible. Somebody who didn’t matter.
I was told to feel proud that I could “inspire.” Why? What did that garner me?
I’m back in form and nobody will ever take me for invisible again. My writing will inspire and will profit me. Call me selfish, bitchy, single-minded. I don’t care. Just don’t pretend that I don’t exist.
Scratch me and I bleed. I will never be a woman who has every line taken out. Who can’t scratch her face for fear it will bring up lines often removed. I have earned my lines. I like them. As long as they stay in the background.
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.
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.
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 »
I have never blogged about subjects people want me to. I have always been contradictory. I always derived a certain amount of pleasure from blogging simply because I love writing and reading so much.
Purely personal bloggers understand what I mean. This blog will never have the stats it once had, but I didn’t begin a blog looking for “popularity” money or status. I began it as a way to see unedited words in print.
I have said that so often it’s become a cliche. It became something bigger than I had desired or knew what to do with. Well, I’m pretty good at getting publicity but I’m a good writer.
Many people don’t seem to grasp the concept that there are people who will read a non-focused, non-niche blog by a blogger who claims no area of expertise simply because the posts are interesting.
And said blogger doesn’t give progress reports on her book, sample chapters or usually talk about it. I have been told by mainstream reporters how unusual that is for a blogger. I don’t want to be defined as Pia Savage, blogger, who is forever writing a book, who talks about 9/11, a changed city and a dead mother.
Really I hope that you know me well enough by the time it comes out to want to buy it, and I know a few people who will gladly pimp it for me.
This past year, and I do measure years by school years, now from 9/11 to 9/11, has been about reclaiming me. I’m trying to uncomplicate my life and find the joy that has been missing.
There are times in the blogosphere I feel adrift. Who am I? I don’t have hubby and/or kids to talk about. I don’t really enjoy politics–once it was fascinating now….
I intuitively understand how to optimize my search engine whatevers and that’s a bad thing because when I read posts on that side of the blogosphere I can’t comment and tell the blogger how brilliant he/she is, and run to my blog and link to the post.
Thank you for smoking is one of my top ten all time films. It did put viral marketing in its place.
I hate how obsessed I become with a subject and have to learn everything about it. Nobody awards PHD’s in blogging yet.
I’m always talking about time away from blogging. I need to recapture the joy in writing and this blog feels like a noose that keeps me from feeling good about my writing. It’s one big responsibility I don’t need, at least for the time I’m in North Myrtle.
I haven’t had a pure vacation in three years and won’t this time, but at least I can let my blog coast.
I feel guilty because new people are always discovering my blog, but I have month by month archives and categories I wouldn’t really trust because sometimes I forget to label posts with all the relevant ones.
I have a light humorous side that I don’t show in my posts. I would like to. I don’t cheerlead for movements or for me. When it comes to me I tend to do the opposite because that comes so naturally to me, and I want to change that.
I want to write and I want to enjoy myself and I was doing so well in the later area this summer, but today, the day I was going to spend all day at the beach, I found myself crying not just for the people who died, or buildings that were lost, or city that has changed but for me also.
I’m not the person I was six years ago and many people claim that to be a good thing. I’m not even the person I was four months ago
I have toughened. Paradoxly I have found that to experience joy one must let out the naysayers, and I don’t find that easy. It’s my instinct to try to fix what’s broken; to right wrongs and ultimately to let myself be used by people who are too needy of me.
This is so hard. This is where I count on blogger support. But I can’t ask you to do for me when I’m not really willing to do for others outside of my family and true friends right now. They need me and I must reserve my giving strength for them.
I am so drained of all energy I feel as if I could sleep the next three weeks away. It’s not depression drain, but the kind of draining that comes from being pulled in too many places by too many people.
Then I feel guilty because i feel only people with spouses and/or children or truly important jobs have that right. I go back to feeling that I must be all things for all people. It’s not easy being me.
Please understand that this isn’t about you but me and the changes I’m undergoing.
When they begin awarding PHD’s in blogging, I will claim mine.
And I so resent the people who say that stream of consciousness blogs should be password protected to prevent inflicting their blogs on the world. Isn’t the blogosphere large enough for all?
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 »
I'm Pia Savage. Took me five tries to put my article on NLD (non verbal learning disorder) on the sidebar. Would have taken 20 but I have become proficient, for me. We're determined to make NLD understandable. That said, we're not NLD centric. Courting and I journey through life together. We leave a lot out. We experiment with fiction and form. This is a blog not our great American novel or book of anything. We write truly bad poetry and for some reason have always been proud of that. email: Pia(dot)talks (at)gmail(dot)com.
This is very disjointed. I have been living without my own things since the beginning of March. I got rid of most things but what I have left I love and need.
I feel exposed; naked; as if I said too much yet not enough. I half expect people to think that […]
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