Blogging

What Was I Saying?

I swear I had a post in my head ready to go, just needed to sit down and type it up.  Now that I’m at the keyboard, I can’t remember one word of what I intended to blog about.

Long and busy days here, though I’m not sure what I’ve been so busy with.  Not much fun happening, behind on laundry and the fridge is alarmingly empty.  Must be mid-summer.  Art Child has been busy with her art intensive, and I’ve been trekking all over the borough for drop off and pick up.  The other day, I had to meet her in the East Village.  A fun neighborhood, one of the few left in Manhattan that still feels like New York, art, artists, small businesses.  We weren’t in the fun part, but I got a couple of photos.

Rainbow brownstone

Rainbow brownstone

Love this, and I'm not the only one.

Love this, and I’m not the only one.

What better place for a small theater than an abandoned Catholic school?

What better place for a small theater than an abandoned Catholic school?

Some neighborhoods still have interesting graffiti

Some neighborhoods still have interesting graffiti

Hi there.

Hi there.

To get to that area from my apartment is kind of a haul, required train transfers and many flights of stairs to get from one station to another without leaving the subway and having to pay another fare.  By the time we got home my back was on fire.  I was just starting to relax into one of the back meds when I heard that siren call, “Mom, the toilet’s overflowing!”

Does everyone else have low flow toilets now also?  Low flow saves a lot of water, theoretically.  Unless you try to flush more than one square of toilet paper.  Because that requires many flushes, and often an overflow.  I don’t know what the heck happened, but this was more stopped up than I’ve seen in years.  And I couldn’t lift the damned pail to force water down.  The good news, Nerd Child got a complete plumbing in NYC lesson.  The bad news, the many hours it took to clear the clog.

The whole thing earned me a day at the beach, no?  Maybe.

Nice view of the new World Trade Center on our way to the Holland Tunnel.

Nice view of the new World Trade Center on our way to the Holland Tunnel.

Oh, I went.  With Husband and Art Child, so we went to one of the NJ beaches, supposed to be cleaner and nicer.

In the parking lot, some lovely plantings around.

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It was going to be a perfect beach day.

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It just didn’t quite work out the way I hoped.

When we got our stuff spread out and settled, a cloud settled on top of us and the wind increased.

IMG_1636 IMG_1640Then we realized the family next to us was the Loud Family.  The cloud will pass, right?  Those kids will go back in the water, right?

So I took a little walk with my camera.

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The cloud passed and those kids did go off somewhere.  Then we realized it was the mother–who did not wander off again–who was making the most noise.  Then another cloud came.

But okay, the family left, yay!  Everywhere else the sky looked blue.  Surely this massive gray cloud above us was going to move off any moment.


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It started to move off, then it came back.  And the Louder and Larger Family settled right next to us, complete with screaming children and mother spraying sunscreen in futility against the wind.  Thanks, my sandwich was missing something.

Story of my fucking life.

Story of my fucking life.

 

Backwards Skate

Hellooo Fringelings!

It’s been a little bit since I last posted.  You know what they say, if you don’t have anything nice to say, then shut the fuck up.  Really it’s just been hectic.  Nerd Child is home for the summer, which is wonderful, and Mother in Law is in the hospital, not wonderful.  On the bright side, she’s recuperating, getting stronger each day.  Art Child is not finished with school yet, the NYC public schools are in session until the end of June every year.  Just making sure that even with a late start to summer weather, the kids and teachers have plenty of sweltering days in the classrooms.

This has, of course, all involved a lot of back and forth and running around.  Yesterday, Mother in Law told me I need roller skates.  I agree, and would like the ones I had in middle school/high school, with the emerald green wheels and matching green sparkle laces and furry green pom poms.  Yes indeed, I was stylin’ those Friday Nights at the Roller Palace.  For some reason, my clearest memories involve the inevitable point in the night when someone’s wheel would bust off, and there would suddenly be a thousand little ball bearings rolling across the floor.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MuFLTFCp7ps

Alas, my wheels are long misplaced, and I suspect if I tried, I’d be skating backwards when I tried to go forward.

Yesterday Man Child called me to touch base, and maybe, just maybe, give me a little nudge along the lines of, “Hey Ma, wtf?!  You haven’t blogged.”  So I brought my camera earlier today, to catch a few pics of St John The Divine, and the assault construction taking place on its grounds right now.  In my opinion, this cathedral (Episcopal) is one of the most beautiful, if not the most beautiful, in the city.  Interesting, too.  Construction began in 1892, and has yet to be completed. The campus involves something like 11 acres, and they offer a lot of free or inexpensive programs and classes for the public.  They also house one of the fancy private schools of NY.  Somehow, they’ve found themselves running with a deficit.  There was a huge fire over ten years ago, and if I had to guess, I’d say they’re still trying to make up for the cost of restoration and clean up.  Several years ago they leased a corner of the property, and allowed an apartment building to be put up.  Now comes another one, this one much closer to the church itself.  As I walked around with my camera, able to see in through the back along Morningside Ave, it broke my heart a little.  They don’t have official landmark status, and I’m not familiar with the politics of this type of thing to know why, but somehow, seeing the excavation for the foundation up against the gorgeous granite and carvings, it feels wrong.

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Breathe

It took me a long time to write yesterday’s post, mostly because it was upsetting. In the middle of writing it, I realized what a beautiful day it was outside so I took a break, and Art Child and I went for a walk.  West instead of the usual East, to Riverside Park.  The city is amazingly empty on summer holiday weekends–assuming you stay away from the tourist areas. Memorial Day weekend is Fleet Week, in addition to the naval ships and sailors, many people come by boat to hang out. I rarely make it as far south as the naval and coast guard ships, but it’s a good opportunity to enjoy the river.

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Riverside park runs along the Hudson River, from 72nd Street to 158th Street.  The park is split by the Westside Highway.  Then there are tunnels that pass under the highway for pedestrians/bikers/runners to reach the path that runs directly alongside the river.  To me, because of the highway and sewage treatment plant on the northern end, it isn’t quite as peaceful as Central Park, but the river makes up for it, and it is beautiful.

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Next to the boat basin is a cafe.  There are outside tables right over the river, and then a cavernous space that is covered but open, if that makes any sense.  It was packed in there yesterday, so I didn’t shoot any pics inside.

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Fringeland is meant to be a space for honesty, but not unrelenting angst and anger. I needed this walk, this post–how about you?

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Hey You: Story Time

Ahh, romance

Ahh, romance

I kept playing with that story.  It started with the idea of a twisted nod to the pressures of “romance” and idealizing others.  Sounds so modern, so 2014, right?  Shakespeare wrote Romeo and Juliet over 400 years ago.  You know the one where a 13 year old girl and a 17 year old boy decide they’re in love, and within days both of them and several others are dead.  Who wants a glass of champagne?

While I was thinking about it and before I began writing it kept changing, of course.  Filling in some parts and omitting others.  I had the idea to put it in second person POV.  For readers who aren’t writers and well past grammar classes, second person is  when the protagonist is referred to as “you,” as opposed to “I” (first person) or he/she (third person).  Not a popular narrative choice, it can be disastrous, calling attention to the fact that you’re reading a story (as opposed to getting lost in it) or, on rare occasion, it can work very well.

I’m still undecided as to how well it worked, but it was an interesting exercise for me.  I’ve never tried it before, and it brought me very, very close inside the main character’s head, and left me feeling a little breathless, even while I felt the breath of the protagonist.  Strange.  And nice to stretch a bit while I created some new characters.

It’s got a touch of magical realism, which I might or might not leave in if I ever change or expand it, one of the bits inspired by a photo I took on the street recently of a dead rat next to a cigarette butt.  I was going to put it here,  but Husband tells me that would tip the scales from edgy to tasteless and gross.  My gut tells me at least half of my readers would agree with him, so I’m leaving it out–I’ll let Husband know you all said thank you.

Tentatively titled “The One,” I’ve added a page above (cleverly titled Fiction II), you can reach it by clicking up top or the link right here.  

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Tweet tweet, Bonus Post

Books

Books (Photo credit: henry…)

I could have left today with a relatively humorous and inoffensive blog post, but why stop there?  There’s one thing that’s been on my mind since yesterday.  I don’t have it in me for a full political rant, but I have to mention it.  Because I’m Mrs Fringe, that’s why.  There was a “campaign” on Twitter yesterday: #WeNeedDiverseBooksbecause  Part of me thought this was cool, and I suspect we’ll keep seeing that hashtag for a long time.  More of me thought WTF?  How is it that we need such a campaign, over 50 years after the Freedom Riders rode through the country, President Barak Obama on his second term as president of the United States…and yet we still have to tell the publishing industry we need diverse books that reflect the diverse people buying and reading those books.

The thing is, while tweets are catchy, they don’t really tell a whole story.  Kind of like the various colored ribbons representing awareness for different diseases–ribbons are cute, no one feels threatened by them, they might even match your t-shirt–but they’re a far cry from the messy, painful, and complex reality they represent.

I saw some clever tweets with that hashtag.  Saw some not as clever tweets, but well intentioned, the right idea.  Still felt sad that it was necessary.  I know it is, though.  I live in a diverse building, in a diverse city.  We are a diverse family.  But a few years ago, when Nerd Child was applying for high schools, I read an online comment from a parent who lived somewhere else, bemoaning the fact that the private boarding schools are committed to having diverse classes, stating that this isn’t representative of the “real world.”  Umm, maybe not this parent’s real world, but mine and many, if not most (once you branch beyond US borders) others.

Yes, both my boys went (one is still going) to private boarding schools, schools that put thought into the diversity of each year’s class, in addition to test scores, recommendations, skills/talents and after school activities.  Both on scholarship.  (And don’t kid yourselves, there many more  bright and accomplished disadvantaged kids, of color and not, who are qualified that the admissions committees think they’d like to spend 4 years with, and then have representing their schools as alumni. There’s no golden path) But you know what’s beautiful?  When I see my boys’ friends, and see how these things do make a difference and carry through. Both have friends from different cultures, different races, different countries.  Not just school friends, but friends kept beyond the boundaries of a school day or year.

Still, this trending twitter campaign feels a bit preaching-to-the-choir, no?  I have to think the publishing industry includes some of the most culturally conscious people in our society.  I mean, books! Reading! Classics!  Freedom of Speech and down with censorship!  Maybe the marketing/purchasing end of the publishing industry will pay attention to the twitter feed, maybe not.  Maybe they’ll take it to mean they should add a title or two to the “multicultural” lists.  You know, that small, separate section of the bookstore, stuffed between romance and erotica.

Years ago, when I was looking at kindergartens for Man Child, I went on a tour with two friends, both looking for spots for their own children.  We left the school, and one parent said, “I liked it, very diverse.”  The other said, “You thought so? I didn’t think it was diverse at all.”  Why the different perception?  Because to one parent, diverse = many children of color.  To the other, diverse = many white children. My way of illustrating that it’s all perception. So point of view in the books we read should represent these different perceptions, if we are going to do more than pay lip service to diversity.

 

I saw a tweet from a publishing professional that reminded me why we still need this type of campaign.  Nothing terrible, definitely not racist, sexist, or homophobic. But it was the equivalent of #weneeddiversebooksbecause some kids want to wear boots instead of sneakers.  Umm, huh?   Individuality is absolutely important, I’m a huge supporter who rants often about kids being raised and expected to be sheep instead of critical thinkers.  But this particular campaign is about diversity.  About having characters that all readers can recognize and identify with, not just a default of middle class white girls battling dragons and making the world safe for democracy in Young Adult books, and the stifled white man in suburbia, or cute and earnest young white women figuring out how to get the guy, get that promotion and a good deal on those pumps they just had to have. Diversity of race, culture, religion, gender, socioeconomic class, politics, and sexuality.

I agree, we do need books that recognize and reflect the diversity of our world, our communities.  Real diversity, not just the token black/latino/male/lgbtq and not just “issue” books where that difference is the focus of the book, and not taking books that do reflect diversity and sticking them in the corner, on their own shelf, where only those specifically looking for those books will find them.

John L. LeFlore and Freedom Riders

John L. LeFlore and Freedom Riders (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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Gray Skies and Social Media Wallflowers

After a teaser of spring yesterday, this morning is pure damp and gloom.

After a teaser of spring yesterday, this morning is pure damp and gloom.

This week I thought quite a bit about social media, the concept of “platforms” and followings, blogging and tweeting.  Mostly tweeting, because so far it’s the thing I’m having the hardest time catching the rhythm of.

I keep saying this, but I just don’t get it.  I hop on dutifully most days, but usually end up feeling like the girl who needs electrolysis and a better girdle at a 1961 dance.  There are the cool kids, the nerdy kids, the popular rah-rah we’re running your student government kids, and the wallflowers.  Then there are the spammers.  Please, for the love of all that is holy, stop it!  I will usually follow links from new followers, check out blogs, etc.  But if you’re tweeting multiple times a day for days, weeks, months on end about how I should buy your book, just stop it.  I will start to remember your name/title of book, but only to make a note not to purchase it.  But they say it’s a good thing to do, have a Twitter account and tweet, so I keep trying.  I favorite, I retweet, I reply, occasionally I send out a tweet.  Somehow it isn’t shocking when no one cares what I ate for dinner.  If I had to guess, I’d say it’s not going to be the thing that gets me/my writing noticed.

Is blogging going to help me?  I have no clue.  As I query, some agents want to know about “web presence,” a more common term than platform when querying fiction.  My stats won’t make anyone drool, but hopefully won’t make them cringe, either.  If anyone looks closely enough, I think it could help that I tend to have long term followers who are engaged (thank you!).  Maybe an agent or two will like the content, think I’m someone they’d be interested in working with.  Or *gasp* become a follower.  Maybe not.  Maybe they’ll click onto the blog and be disgusted by my appalling language.  (If so, they probably wouldn’t be into my fiction, either.) Maybe they’ll think, “Wow, this woman is a fucking fruitcake, I’m steering clear.”

If you hadn’t noticed, I like blogging.  Mrs Fringe isn’t an overnight sensation, but I’ve got Fringelings, and gather more on a weekly, sometimes daily basis.  Many can relate to that feeling of living on the fringe.  As a wannabe writer, I should be keeping a blog about writing.  Yawn.  Pretty sure I’ve said this before, but I find most blogs on writing to be tedious.  Writers, their individual lives and processes?  Interesting.  A good blog with an thoughtful or entertaining voice will compel me to follow links and click the little buy button for a book.  Does this make me a voyeur?

No longer needed

No longer needed (Photo credit: eric.r)

Could be.  Blogging lets me ramble with no pressure.  I look at the blogs that hit it big, and the blogs that barely get any views, and sometimes, not always, but sometimes, it’s hard to see why one way or the other.  My buddy kk blogged about this yesterday.  I enjoy different bloggers and blogs, like making connections through reading and commenting.  I don’t read and comment as frequently as I did when I started.  Honestly, it gets harder to do the more followers I have, and I apologize to those whose blogs I’m not stopping by often enough.  Every view, every like, every comment  is important and valuable to me, thank you.  It’s a process, I’m learning the curve.  So I’m saying to kk and anyone else trying to figure out this blogging thing, relax. Figure out what you most enjoy blogging about, the voice that feels the most comfortable.

It’s Friday again.  Not sure if Fatigue will come for Friday Night Madness, his pup has been sick.  But if he does, we’ll have dinner and our usual routine discussing the trials and tribulations of being a wannabe in New York, trying to make it; one pen/voice/monologue/dance routine trying to hold firm and be noticed among millions.  Funny, because I grew up here, pretty much always lived here, I always knew I wasn’t special by virtue of being a wannabe, having a dream I didn’t want to give up.  Maybe the internet and social media have done the same for everyone everywhere.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qm6IJIVWLT4

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Bio__________

Bioagent

Biodegradable

Biochemistry

Biohazard

Biothreat

Biology

Biography

Hmmm.

Last night I got another request for the full manuscript from an agent I queried.    She made one of the loveliest statements I’ve ever received about my writing (sent the opening with the query), and if my back wasn’t still broken I’d have done a happy dance.  She wanted a file type (you know, the dot whatever) that isn’t my computer’s default, but hey, no problem–Man Child showed me how to do that last month.  I kept reading.  She wanted my full bio, too.  Errrr.

I went from feeling like this

New Moon, New Day, New Season

New Moon, New Day, New Season

To this

the remnants of the rebel fleet escape the exp...

the remnants of the rebel fleet escape the exploding death star II (Photo credit: lamont_cranston)

Let me say oof, to go along with that errr.  I don’t have a bio.  Not just that I didn’t have one prepared, I really don’t have anything to say.  Average downward mobile gal, unremarkable life of trying to figure out how to pay the bills each month, extraordinary kiddos, dog poop picker upper with a vivid imagination.  None of which is relevant to me as a writer, or the story of ASTONISHING.  No alcoholism, no magic (good or bad), move along, please, these are not the splendid boobs you’re looking for.

According to the inimitable Janet Reid, patron saint of wanna be writers everywhere, this is not something to worry about.  But I’m a querying wanna be–by definition I’m worrying.

I wrote two sentences having to do with my life in cyberspace as Mrs Fringe.  Maybe I threw something in about dog poop.

 

 

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All the Cool Kids Are Doing It

pole dance studio

pole dance studio (Photo credit: wwphotos)

But I’m not talking about pole dancing.   I’ve seen several interesting blog posts recently discussing blogging, inviting readers to talk about who they are, why they blog, what their blogs focus on.  Maybe WordPress threw the idea out there, offered a challenge, I don’t know.  It’s Sunday morning and the beasts woke me up too early so I’ll jump on the bandwagon, too tired to be clever on my own.  Because in a way, blogging isn’t so different from pole dancing.  “Look at me, check out this nifty spin, ooh, Mister, would you throw a dollar my way–I’ll give you a peek under another layer.”

There was a recent discussion on the writer’s forum about blogging.  The profitability or lack thereof, return on investment, etc.  I think the conclusion was that author’s blogs aren’t worth (financially) the time and work required to keep them going.  I didn’t participate in the discussion, but I read, and I’m thinking about it.  I don’t blog because I’m an author, I’m not selling anything.  No book being hawked, no freelancing.  Sure, if I ever sell a book I’ll post about it, add a link so the curious and flush can purchase it.

Buy More Stuff, Black Friday 2008

Buy More Stuff, Black Friday 2008 (Photo credit: Michael Holden)

A lot of writers, published and unpublished, also run blogs.  Many of them blog about writing.  How to.  I have to admit, I find the vast majority of writing blogs boring.  Is that awful to put into the foreverness that is the internet?  Sorry.  Doesn’t mean they’re bad.  It’s subjective, after all (my favorite song).  Maybe I’m delusional, but I don’t think I need to read 8000 regurgitated versions of THE FIRST FIVE PAGES, ON WRITING,  or THE ELEMENTS OF STYLE.   I own all three, have read them, reread them, dissected them many times.

I follow several writer’s blogs but most are talking about more than writing.  They’re fun or touching or snarky, discuss a personal journey, or downright silly.  They represent the person blogging. To me, that’s what blogging is, personal.  I also follow a few agent/editor’s blogs–those are different, meant to inform by those who actually know what they’re talking about–and still, good reads that offer a sense of who the individual is.  Or at least the persona fronting the blog.

Mrs Fringe is not only not a writing blog, I don’t consider it an “author’s blog.”  I’m a blogger who also writes fiction.  When the coffee grounds appear in just the right pattern and I’m offered a contract I don’t expect I’ll sell 750,000 copies as a result of this blog.  I’m pretty sure that’s about what I’d need to sell to in order to say the hours spent on blogging (writing posts, responding to comments, reading other people’s posts and commenting on theirs) were monetarily worth it.

But I don’t blog as a marketing tool.  I blog because it’s fun, it’s a release, I’ve made and continue to make fabulous connections with other bloggers–many of whom have nothing to do with the world of writing or publishing.  And when I think about it, I don’t consider my time here in Fringeland as time I should be spending working on my fiction or wasted words.  It’s rejuvenating.  And when I am spending a lot of hours writing, I don’t spend a lot of hours on blogging.

If I’m on the pole it’s at home in my raggedy old yoga pants, no dollars in sight.  Of course I hope that somehow, some way, the time spent blogging will provide a boost to my yet-to-be-established writing career.  But that isn’t why I do it.

What about you?  Do you blog for professional reasons?  Marketing?  Display your art?  The opportunity to make connections?  Be positive?  Spread the Word?  The chance to anonymously scream out all the suckage in your life?  And if you aren’t a blogger, but you’re a reader of blogs, what draws you in and keeps you coming back?

Blog Machine

Blog Machine (Photo credit: digitalrob70)

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Friday Photos

I’m sure I intended to write a pithy, insightful post today.  Sorry.  The last several days have been a marathon of working on Astonishing.  I typed THE END a couple of hours ago, and I’m so drained I feel  gutted.  Crap, I think Little Incredibly Dumb Dog is playing with my small intestine.

I took my camera with me the other morning and shot some New York morning photos on the way home from taking Flower Child to school.  A couple of cool fog photos, and several of the ongoing and ever popular construction around the city.

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