Friday, December 24, 2004

Snow for Christmas

10 degrees or below. Two hours to chip the ice off the car. Downed trees and power lines. No power, no heat; thankfully that isn't true for us. But it has meant that one of my daughters spent the day here and the other the night and that's on top of the fact that we've had my grandson here for two days because his mother has to work. Now my third daughter wants me to go over and help her sort through the last of her "stuff," because she and her boyfriend are moving across country on Monday. They've already brought a lot of things to the house, some of which belongs to my daughter in S. Korea, who won't be back until June, and some of which is for the daughter who would have already begun to move into her own apartment if it hadn't been for the storm. Tonight is Christmas Eve and I was elected to have Christmas dinner here tomorrow and I'm not good at not having any time to myself, let alone privacy. I haven't even had a shower for two days.

But it could be so much worse. I could have a son or daughter in Iraq. One of my friends called me yesterday - one I haven't spoken or written to for years (she was responding to a Christmas letter I sent out) - and she told me that her son was in Iraq for 11 months and has to go back. She said she was a mess while he was there. I can't even imagine what kind of shape I'd be in. I'm very very thankful I don't have to deal with that.

Even so, that doesn't mean that I'm looking forward to the next couple of days, and that's sad considering that it's Christmas. I haven't even wrapped presents and don't know exactly when I'll get the chance. At least my grandson will be picked up by his mother this afternoon. He's been so good and I love having him around, but I'm being expected to deal with about two too many things today.

I'm not freaking, though; not anxious or overly depressed. I'm not jumping up and down with joy, but I'm trying to accept the situation, including the way I'm responding to it. Instead of getting down on myself because I'm not cheerful, I need to be relieved that I'm not losing it. I'm just taking everything in a very low key way; that seems to work best for me right now. Being jolly is not a requirement; being aware of how blessed I am is is what it's supposed to be all about anyway.

What does this all have to do with writing? Everything, of course. Because everything boils down to whether or not I get to write. The most I've accomplished in the past few days has been a journal entry yesterday and now this. I had hoped that I could finish my incomplete in History while I was on vacation, but I see now that I should have known better.

Before I sign off, I just want to mention a strange development: I can't seem to get any satisfaction out of reading. I don't particularly want to and when I try to, I can't find anything that satisfies me. I don't know whether that's just a response to the stress or something that has actually changed for me, but it definitely makes me feel at a loss. But again, maybe I should be glad that I'm not dying to read right now or I'd be going out of my mind.

I have to get ready to go help my daughter. I'm taking my grandson with me. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Monday, June 28, 2004

Delayed Introduction

I have another blog, "Family Matters" (I mean to change that title--bor-ing!) in which I could (or might copy) this post, but I'd like to turn "Mighty Pen" into my primary Blog, so I'm going to start using it first in most cases. I don't do well with too many choices--I become paralyzed, as a matter of fact, which is why I rarely write in any of them. Also, I'm still stuck in the days when it was fashionable to create a web page, but I guess now the thing is to blog, with much the same result, only it's much easier. I hope that's true, because I never seemed to get a web page published, and like many other people, I would really like to have a voice on the web. I know it would be an ethereal one, at best. But perhaps it would prepare me for the establishment of a more permanent one in print.

The other day I had the astonishing idea of trying to get on radio. I had never thought of that before, but I think it would be ideal for me, because I truly do have the gift of gab. (Unless I'm in the depression pit. But I find that I tend to slide into the pit when I'm not doing anything that excites me enough to keep me from the edge of it.) The only problem is (besides getting a radio slot--but if Reagan could do it, why couldn't I?) figuring out what it would be about. I'm one of those people who know a little bit about a lot of things; that could be an asset or a liability, in any area, I suppose. That's why majoring in history has been challenging for me, and has also been one of my main problems in my writing: it is often too shallow, broad, general. I seem to think that I have to cover all there could possibly be to say in everything I write, and then I throw in a few side trips for good measure. I'm probably doing that right now. Maybe if I indulge myself now, I can get it out of my system...no, that's totally the wrong approach; I'm only encouraging my bad habit. Oh, well, there's always the opportunity to edit (if I avail myself of it).

I plan to be more focused in the future and if I'm not, I promise to summarize each blog so that you'll at least know what I meant to say, even if I didn't actually put those words in my main text. So here is my summary for today's blog: I am a writer, but have been accused of having the "gift" of communication (which is an extremely tactful way of saying that I talk a lot, but that I manage to be at least marginally interesting). I do enjoy expressing my opinions, but tend to come across a little strong in person, so I'm hoping to appear a little less threatening in print. Writing has a way of calming me down, and making me think before I "blurt"(usually). But then writing clearly exposes my run-on sentences; I can get away with them when I speak. (Then again, it could be that I sound incoherent and I just don't realize it.) So, in sum, I will be usuing this blog to communicate my opinions and observations, and trying mightily to keep the two separate. I do know the difference between them, so that is a start.

Tuesday, April 06, 2004

My First Ever Writing Course

It only took a half century for me to take a bona fide writing course. I am now officially taking English 268; Writing Creative Nonfiction, and at a university no less. The point being that I have never even had enough nerve (or I've been too arrogant; take your pick) to take an adult education or lifelong learning course or some such. The last time I had any kind of writing instruction I suppose was when I was in high school.

The strange thing is how I finally ended up here. When I decided to go back to school, I never considered majoring in creative writing. (OSU doesn't have an undergrad major like that anyway, only a MFA program.) It really boiled down to which major was I closest to earning, based on the hodge-podge of courses I had already taken over the years. My choices ended up being English, which didn't surprise me, and history, which did. But what really surprised me is that I chose history, and why I chose it: English (which would have been primarily studying literature) really really did not appeal to me at all.

So I began taking history courses, beginning with what they call a gateway course, an introduction to historical research, for which I had to receive at least a C before I could declare a history major. No problem, I thought. I could not have been more wrong. The teacher made us write a precis of every chapter of Marc Bloch's The Historian's Craft, one of the most difficult books I have ever read, much less written summaries of. And then there was the fact that I did not have the slightest idea how to write a precis, not to mention the fact that the style of a precis is about as antithetical to my natural style as night is to day. I was shocked when I got my first precis back with a big fat D on it: the first one I have ever received on a writing assignment in my life. My only hope for redemption was that the teacher let us write them over. It wasn't until my third precis that I finally "saw the light"--and it was literally a revelatory experience: until then I just couldn't grasp what I was doing wrong, let alone how to fix it. (Here I feel I must confess that without my husband's help, I don't think I would have ever figured it out, or not in time to redeem myself.) After that I redid all the substandard precis and ended up with an A for the course.

Similar things happened in my other history courses. I was surprised but also pleased to discover that how one writes is considered as important as what one writes about in the field of history, even though the standards and styles were all new (and somewhat more serious and dry) to me compared to the kind of writing I had been doing before. But I think the discipline was good for me: I learned a lot about structure, thorough research, and succinctness. I also began to see my worst habits, the way I meander and indulge myself, fail to come to the point, and leave parts of the story by the wayside, all unacceptable practices for the writer of history or the presenter of research. (Although I'm sure I'm doing it now!)

Then, last quarter, I signed up for a senior symposium on "Hollywood and History" which meant to examine the problems that films have in presenting historical accuracy. The end product of the course was to be a 25-page paper in which we would first review a book titled Past Imperfect: History According to the Movies, edited by Mark C. Carnes, then write a short piece about the difference between historical accuracy and historical authenticity, followed by in-depth analyses of two historically-based films of our own choosing, and concluding with a summary of how well the films we chose met the standards of accuracy/authenticity.

Well, I got off to a rocky start. I wasn't doing well mentally for some reason and bungled my first two rough drafts. The teacher didn't record our grades--they were just meant to be guidelines--but mine weren't good. Then I got really sick, physically sick, and not only couldn't go to class, but couldn't finish my second drafts on time. I worked really hard on them and when I finally did get them turned it, I thought they were practically in finished condition. I was wrong. The teacher had lots of criticisms, and still graded me badly. By this time I was so frustrated between still being sick and trying to figure out what the hell he wanted, I wrote him an email and pleaded with him for something to keep me going. He finally deigned to tell me that "my writing was better than most," I was "by far the most enthusiastic student in class," I had a lot of important things to say, and to not give up. Then he asked me if I had ever considered taking any creative writing courses.

Not really. Well, actually, yes. Of course. All I've ever wanted to be is a writer. But subject myself to that kind of scrutiny? Wait, what was I saying? What had I been doing for the past year in my history classes? So how could it be any worse to subject myself to it in yet another class which just happened to be an English class? At least I wouldn't also be expected to be learning about certain periods of history at the same time and would be freer to write about topics that might be closer to my heart. (Or whatever.)

So I mustered up my courage and registered for this Creative Nonfiction course and I've been to three classes now and done one of my assignments and so far it feels like a perfectly natural fit. If I had tried to do it a year and a half ago, or any time before now, I don't think I could have handled it. But everything I did up to now prepared me for this moment. And now, the ironic thing is, I'm beginning to think that I'll hold off getting my bachelor's so that I can take more creative writing courses and then graduate with a major in history and a concentration in creative writing but then apply for entrance to the MFA program in Creative Writing (maybe). Or maybe I will have made enough contacts and received enough advice to help me find my own direction as a writer. Either way, I think this would be a lot smarter for me than to graduate with just a major in history.

Tuesday, March 30, 2004

Giving Credit Where It's Due

I was searching Google this morning for credit card offers for first-timers (credit-card virgins??) for my husband and thought I'd check out poor-credit offers, too. They were all pitiful, but what was even worse were the reviews. If you ever find yourself weakening in your resolve to not get another credit card, or you want to scare off your kids from the same temptation, have them read some of these reviews (these were at www. cardoffers.com). My husband and I were talking this morning about how uncomfortable we were with the student loan debt we're acquiring, but when I think of what our life would be like if we were in any kind of typical consumer debt...! I just got a call the day before yesterday (on a Sunday, as a matter of fact) from a company that just purchased a debt of mine from Providian, which I haven't heard a word about for at least two, almost three years--and I even called and tried to find out about it!). The guy was nice and is "letting" me make a $50 hardship payment for three months, subject to a 90 day review (which means that it will probably end up like my Toyota debt: an interminable $50/mo payment, because after all, what choice do they have when I only make $1456. a month?). But the point is, without the student loans, we couldn't make it at all, unless and until we have other income. And since I certainly can't go to school and work, too, and I can barely handle going to school, I don't see that I have any other choice. Because if I feel somewhat trapped going to school, what would I feel like having to work? And from what I've been able to determine about myself, I begin to deteriorate whenever I feel trapped.

Tuesday, March 16, 2004

Second Thoughts

"Hollywood and History." That's the name of one of my classes this quarter. I've been really getting into it, but unfortunately I got way behind and I'm now in finals week with 75% of a 25-page paper to write. I may have to take an "incomplete" but I really don't want to have to do that. I'd be working on it right now, but I still have my "medieval tale" to finish and then my 8-page take-home final for German 19th century history. Remind me again: WHY am I doing this??