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Reflections on NaPoWriMo

09 May

Last month, I took on the NaPoWriMo challenge: to pen thirty poems in thirty days. The exercise was to write a poem every day, and I nearly stuck to that. Poets work on an honor system, which involves pretending that we sat down to write a poem every day, instead of five in one day, or five poems for the entire month.

As a writer I try not to compare my writing with others, rather, I read as a reader. After the month of April was finished, I decided to check out some of my fellow NaPoWriMo-ers (at least, those that linked their web-published works to the NaPoWriMo site.) I thought during this project that I was constantly falling behind; that there was this demand for my words. As I clicked through more and more poetry blogs and sites, I realized many of the fellow writer’s did that whole artist thing … posting for the first few days, leaving off the last three, continuing past the month of April. Very few posted complete April collections.

I get it. The process itself was not an easy one. I kind of catalog it in “Writing,” how at first it was exciting, ideas falling out of the sky really, just by opening up my eyes to look around the room. By week three, it was more like: Dammit I have to finish a copywriting job, edit twenty more pages, unload the dishwasher, call my mom, give the baby a bath and finish the three poems I started four days ago …. Crap! And write today’s poem.

That isn’t to say that daily poetry writing is all bad. Some poems are a force; they just come right through you; the written equivalent of bursting into song. Other poems, like “Ritual,” just whisper themselves to you while you’re in the middle of the act itself. Others are woooorrrrk … it may be a great spark of a concept that never takes off; the words just lie there like dry seeds. Some experiments with topics (mothers, or love or tacos) soon fizzle with a sing-song like mediocrity. Many poetic starts just stayed in my notebook, not even making it to a Word file.

And yet. NaPoWriMo was a satisfying process, not just accomplishing the feat of writing 30 poems in a month, and not just jump starting creativity. Now, as I read back over the verse, it reads like a lovely little catalog of my days … my regular, everyday life is there, along with the spectacular thoughts and feelings that come with them. It is a sort of picture album of poems; which I am taking great pride in creating.

 
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Posted in NaPoWriMo, Poetry, writing

 

In Honor of the Bard

23 Apr

I sat at my page, betwixt thought and ambition: To pen a blog in honor of the bard. Methinks however, in spiteth of my training, and the glorious day of William’s birth (or so tis told in the forests of Athena), t’would be better memory to honor William with a bit of folly.

 
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In Memory of Adrienne Rich

29 Mar
“A thinking woman sleeps with monsters.
The beak that grips her, she becomes.”
-Adrienne Rich, “Snapshots of a Daughter-in-Law”
 

There have been many bloggers discussing the life of Adrienne Rich this week; she passed away on Wednesday at the age of 82. And the Baltimore-born feminist certainly left a legacy in life and the written word, one worth visiting again and again.

There is a special sadness when one you have studied leaves the world; like losing a teacher you have never met. In trying to honor her, I began to do what one does to gain insight to a poet: I began reading, and sometimes re-reading, her poems. And in doing so, it seems only fitting that this blog became a poem itself, to one so fearless, and so beloved.

She Becomes

Like the luxury of copying famous quotations

Into a notebook,

On a bed in Tuscany.

That same author brought

Me to write of women monsters,

Springing forth from Adam. From Earth.

 

They didn’t call you a monster,

The chosen insult was: “political,”

What they really meant to say was, “liberal.”

They didn’t know—

Couldn’t know as a poet knows. Not provocative

In order to provoke;

But merely to respond to that

Which made you move.

 

I don’t believe

You would have wavered into that space … or carried

Old knives.

Had we met

I am sure we would have discussed the moon,

And light waves and men and their teacups,

And touched on the importance of

Style and form.

Yet your letters make me wonder,

If you will wander the halls still,

Who is your Rilke? Your students.

We will write our own requiems,

And then act upon them.

 
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Posted in Famous authors, Literature, Uncategorized, writing

 

The Womb Room

11 Nov

Not many people that work from home name their offices. I did … and not just because the walls are a creamy, blush color, but because it became the impetus of many things in my written life. It is where I began to create some of my favorite stories; where I wrote and rewrote and rewrote poetry about my marriage, my baby; where the idea and concept of this company was born and carried out.

I surrounded myself with things from my single life; photographs, books, candles, shelves from my apartment. There is something uniquely comforting about being in here … like stress from the world cannot get in here. It’s me and my music and fingers flying.

And now it is time to leave it. We are moving in a few days, out of state, and my new office will be a carved-out corner of my finished basement, where I can have eyes on a manuscript and my son. I am mourning the womb room now, more than I thought I would.

About a year and a half ago, when I found out I was pregnant, the womb room took on a new life. My office began to accumulate non-office things. A migration from the guest room turned nursery. When I returned to work my laptop became relegated to the dining room, so I could be with my son during the day. The womb room continued to accumulate stuff: mail, pictures, knick knacks axed from the living room once the baby could reach the table tops, a television for the new house, empty boxes for the move.

So really, I gave up my space awhile ago, but since moving necessitates cleaning and cleaning out, my office has been given a new spring. And I can finally sit at a desk again. Glance out the window at what was never much of a view, but enough to let me know when it was raining. And as I sit here, burning a few nubs of candles, I wish I could transport this space, this perfect space in my head, the one I always wished I could have. The space my husband helped create for me, to make me feel at home in his home. The space that helped me stay connected to me.

But if the womb room has taught me anything, it’s that creation is possible. And with that power, taken anywhere, life continues.

 

The Womb

It’s easier to write when it’s raining.

When the linoleum looks clean and gray against the filtered light.  When it’s comforting to find the walls exist.

Sweeter, easier to imagine how the rain feels to the trees in my front yard.  Or if the potted plants out the door could pretend they weren’t kidnapped.

Like glancing at the wall — parents smiling next to the Torino.  Thinking, “There’s only one left.”

Inside the womb and the womb ….

Through the screened window a blade of grass takes a hit.  The green is buoyant.

In here, words know.  The circle sends the thought in,

Sends it out.  Like rain and earth and roots and rain.

Here, salmon-walled,

here is where we write it down.

Copyright 2009 Lisa A Schleipfer

 
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An Open Letter to Kindle, for Book Lovers

07 Jun

Dear Kindle Marketing Team,

I liked you so much better when you were busy trashing the iPad, not trying to turn book lovers into silly, naive people that display weaker spines than those found in the books they read.

Truly, you are trying to convince non-Kindle users to come on over to the dark side by pitching: a. “Books don’t have glare, Kindles don’t have glare!” and b. Readers can do away with that pesky task of folding down a book’s page to save our place; an effort, apparently, we relish. Ugh.

Let’s discuss the bit about reading in bright light. The thing is, book lovers do not consider the concept of glare when reading books. It’s a non-issue. Trying to contrast a Kindle, a glare-free book-reading tool, to a book … a glare-free um, book … is ridiculous. It’s like saying that the Kindle, like a book, won’t slap you in the face while you read it. Or start your house on fire. Or steal your car keys. I get you’re trying to convince us to not buy the other guy’s e-reader, the one that does glare, but c’mon. You’re not fooling anybody.

And then, dear ad gurus, you try and sell the book lover on the Kindle by bringing up the pagefold=bookmark. *insert sigh*

Book lovers, true book lovers, do not fold down the pages of books. We do not rest an open book face down. We do not write in books, and when forced to write in books, say, in college lit classes, we use a pencil. As a book lover, I try to repress the childhood memory of coming upon a picture book that was my mother’s, and being horrified to discover that my mischievous Auntie Ro at some point had taken a marker and scribbled in the pages of the book, and in my child mind, ruined it forever. We honor and respect the book.

When we do want to mark our place in a book, we use bookmarks, which are like fun accessories for books, and us. We do not, under any circumstances, take pleasure in folding down the corner of the page. We will search for any other method to mark our place (a stray envelope, a random receipt from a purse or wallet, a paperclip, straight-up memorization of the page number) before we will cringe and forever mar the books we so love.

I have such sentimental attachment to bookmarks that the one time I accidentally left one—a souvenir from my honeymoon—in a library book, I called the library in a panic, and thanks to a very nice, bookmark-loving librarian, now only use said bookmark when reading books I own.

My point is, sirs and madams of the Kindle marketing team, is that if you want to turn the book readers of the world into e-book readers of the world, or at least convince us that your e-reader is the lesser of all evils, then try not to insult us, make us seem unintelligent and deem us as un-cool, simply because we prefer the pages of an actual book.

Sincerely,

Lisa A. Schleipfer, un-official representative of worldwide book aficionados

 
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Posted in e-reader, Literature, Marketing, Technology

 

It’s an E-Reader’s E-Reader’s E-Reader’s World

25 Apr

Or is it?

I’ve been contemplating e-readers a lot lately. The shiny new commercials slamming the iPad. The new color options with bright and bold magazine covers. The soothing yet crisp voice of Sarah Jessica Parker. It’s enough to make a girl crazy.

Let’s face it; anyone who knows me, or that has read at least one of my other ERE blog entries, knows I’m not converting to an e-reader. I am like a 2011 version of the You’ve Got Mail’s Frank, (Greg Kinnear), clinging to the typewriter and proclaiming bits of wisdom to Meg Ryan like, “You are a lone read.”

(Actually, I may have to explore that. Perhaps Frank was not typing but tweeting. Unplugged tweeting.)

So we all know I’m not gonna do it. So here’s my funny for the week of why exactly I’m not gonna do it.

1.   Airplanes. Books and airplanes, or buses or trains or any mode of public transportation for that matter, go hand in hand. A book wards off strangers, keeps us well read, and makes commuting to a desk job or traveling to our hometowns a bit more tolerable. In the case of airplanes though, while everyone is turning off their approved electronic devices until takeoff or landing is completed, I’m happily flipping pages. Also, in the off chance you, or say your mother, leaves a borrowed copy of The Time Traveler’s Wife on the seat next to her before exiting said plane, there’s no need to go ballistic. You’re not out $139.00.

2.   Borrowing. Speaking of borrowing books, and $139 bucks, the e-reader will kill this culture. For example, a group of girlfriends and I are planning to see the sweeping romance, Water for Elephants this April. And although my dear friend Susan has read the book, she purchased it via her e-reader, making my plea to borrow it null.

3.   Libraries. For me, and many of my writer friends, libraries are like churches. Quiet and ethereal; walking through the stacks alone can calm nerves. And beyond books, they are an important beacon in communities across the country offering programs and services to residents. The question for libraries enlisting e-readers is: who will create the technology that yanks your e-book the day your three weeks are up? It may save us on late fees, but it will remove the entire library experience.

4.  Publishing. The publishing world isn’t quite ready for the e-reader insanity. A recent Time magazine article, “The E-Book Era Is Here: Best Sellers Go Digital,” sites the facts: more than 90% of the publishing industry is in print. As sales of e-books and e-readers are increasing at break-neck speed; the money is still in the pages. Actual pages.

So I still groove on a real book. But the tides (or pages) could be turning. Maybe when we remove the hyphen and they become “ereaders,” like “email”. Hmm.

 
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Posted in e-reader, Technology

 

Haunting Words for Halloween

26 Oct

The Eden Rivers Top Ten Horror Stories

In honor of All Hallow’s Eve, it’s my top ten scary stories from literature short and long. In no particular order, so read them at your own pace. If you dare.

Haunted Cemetery

“The Tell-Tale Heart”/”The Cask of Amontillado”
Edgar Allen Poe

It’s a tie. I don’t know what creeps me out more, the thump of a heart in the floorboards or a man bricked into a wall, alive … a trick that has been used in film a million times over, and yet Poe is the one who gets it right. If you are a Hellboy fan (or are near a video store), the awesome 1953 animated feature “The Tell Tale Heart” can be seen in the bonus features. Or click here for an online version.

The Shining
Stephen King

The movie was iconic for sure, but once you delve into the book, suddenly images from that film take on an uber-level of creepiness. Re: The man in the dog costume. The dead little twins. The oversized animal-shaped hedges on the front lawn. King’s words can make these images come alive in the reader’s head, and make the next viewing of the film a scarier one.

House of Leaves
by Mark Z. Danielewski

This novel has a plot within a plot, and it’s a pretty hefty size, about a man who begins making a documentary about his home. It begins as a closet and a hallway appear within the house in a place they didn’t exist before, opening up a dimension of dark, ever-moving pathways within the house that defies physics. Images of Will Navidson crawling around in the dark, or perhaps the ever-changing catacombs and the ultimate fear, being lost in the dark, was creepy. My friend Jason lent me the book and insisted I couldn’t read it at night, making it more creepy, and for a month or so I refused to open any of my closet doors.

Dracula
Bram Stoker

From Van Helsing, to Lucy to Dracula, the famous characters are all here, in the most impact-ful vampire tale ever written. What makes it so frightening, is that the story unfolds in the form of letters, journals and other third-party writings, which means the horror may begin on the page, and we the reader cannot save the character, for the next entry is always after the disaster has occurred.

In Cold Blood
Truman Capote

I happen to have a strange aversion to home invasions, so this one was a personal nightmare. And not just from the heinous murders, but the way Capote infiltrated the murderers lives, immersed in their worlds and manipulated them to tell the story. It is so beautifully written, the reader can quickly believe he or she is reading a fictional novel, but it is not so. These are murders that did happen, criminals Capote did meet and befriend. That is what compels the horror of the story.

“Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?”
Joyce Carol Oates

Arnold Friend. However can we forget you? Short, smooth-talking man who lures girls out of their houses and promises to be nice—the first time. Not only that, but lures them out, to make them believe there is no other choice. Every one of Arnold’s lines is creepy: Now, put your hand on your heart, honey. Feel that? That feels solid too but we know better. Where’s my mace?

The Virgin Suicides
Jeffrey Eugenides

This is one novel in which I will say, yes, see the movie, it’s just as good and tightly follows the novel (and Giovanni Ribisi makes an amazing narrator). It is sad and haunting and beautiful, a book to read again and again, and what can be more brilliant that the suicide tale of five young beautiful sisters, told from the point of view of the neighborhood boys who admired them?

“A Rose for Emily”
William Faulkner

I read this for the first time from an anthology my mother had for a short story class she was taking… I didn’t see the ending coming, but it’s an image I’ll never get out of my mind. The husband is always on the right side of the bed, her smooshed pillow on the left, and there’s a round window on the wall, past the foot of the bed frame, so that the light fades as your eyes pass over to his bones. Eeeeewww.

“Mad House”
Richard Matheson

The author of I am Legend has penned plenty of short horror and suspense short stories, and this one hits close to home. For any writer out there, this story is the ultimate nightmare… in which the macabre elements are placed into everyday situations, making Chris Neal’s problem with anger and the way it reverberates against these every day issues more frightening then the supernatural elements of the story. It is an ideal tale for any procrastinating writer.

“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”
Washington Irving

On any walk, in any wood, upstate New York or not, there is a back-of-your-mind fear of meeting the Headless Horseman. It’s a brilliant folktale that still holds a great thread of scary storytelling. There is something about a dead man seeking his head, and taking others in the process that has an eerie, keep-a-lookout quality. Add a covered bridge and a fall evening and *shudder*. I mean, what if? What if you looked up, and there he was?

 
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Posted in Literature

 

The Twittiness of Twitter

15 Jul

I don’t get Twitter.

twitter, v.  (used without object)
1. to utter a succession of small, tremulous sounds, as a bird.
2. to talk lightly and rapidly, esp. of trivial matters; chatter.
3. to titter; giggle.
4. to tremble with excitement or the like; be in a flutter.

twit, v.
1. to taunt, tease, ridicule, etc., with reference to anything embarrassing; gibe at.
2. to reproach or upbraid.

twit, n.
Slang 1. A foolishly annoying person.

The second definition of twit, really, is the one that hits that nail for me. We all are foolishly annoying people, aren’t we?

It’s no surprise that I’m against social media. I find it strange, and impersonal and narcissistic. We’re not exchanging information, or educating ourselves. We’re trying out to be the most popular, greatest, awesome-est online us-es there are. Woohoo.

Mostly, I just don’t believe anyone is important enough for tweeting. Why is it that suddenly the egos of the masses have assembled to declare thoughts, ideas and imagination in the form of um, idle chit chat?

In the immortal, brilliant words of Mike Birbiglia (pre-Twitter, of course):

I’m always embarrassed to tell people I have a blog ’cause everybody has a blog, about anything: “Today I went to JCPenney.” And there’s one comment, “JCPenney, eh?” That’s not a blog, that’s a text message.

I know, I know. Technically, you are currently reading a blog. But, since I’ve yet to land a superior and utterly fitting job as a newspaper columnist, this will have to do. In context of my argument, blog, text, tweet, post, and now, dear Lord, a thing called lifestream, all go into the same soup pot.

Seriously, we should be ashamed. I think I started to become annoyed when news broke that our government officials were tweeting their 140-character posts like, “This session is boring.” Then, the tabloids and Twitter started dating, in probably the rags’ greatest faux relationship ever: using Twitter as a source.

Finally, last week, I wrote a story about Reba McEntire chiding fellow country musician Blake Shelton for his inappropriate tweets, and my head exploded.

It’s too much. Too much Twitter! It’s like a parallel universe to the new Bing commercials; a world of loud, chirpy chirps multiplying so that all you get is noise. Even if a particular twit is a virtuoso of wit and wisdom, after a minute-long shelf life, it gets shoved down, past that “more” icon, lost to the graveyard of tweets, unread.

Even Twitter’s self-explanation of its purpose raises my anti-social media line:

The result of using Twitter to stay connected with friends, relatives, and coworkers is that you have a sense of what folks are up to but you are not expected to respond to any updates unless you want to. This means you can step in and out of the flow of information as it suits you and it never queues up with increasing demand of your attention.

First, they used “folks” and “queues” in the same paragraph. What?  Second, Twitter (and other social media) is not about connectedness. That involves reciprocation, and unity and joining. All this short, fast-paced, look-at-me-mentality is the anti-connectedness. To borrow a phrase from a friend, “it’s a blatant display of online social self-masturbation.”

That’s quite a definition.

 
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Posted in Social Media, Twitter

 

Grammar, Punctuation and Spelling

09 Feb

So today, at the Today website, a new article was published about the wacky world of grammar snobs. Entitled, “Fastidious spelling snobs pushed over the edge,” this quirky little story takes a peek into the world of those who love, love, love to correct the grammar.

The argument of the story is that although bad punctuation has plagued city signs and menus around the country for decades, the stress of war and economy have made folks a little snappy with the spelling corrections.

Although a fun read, I’ve got to disagree on the timing here. Grammar snobs, vigilantes, habitual correctors, what have you, have been around for as long as words and sentences have been written.

The idea that stress equals a rise in public tongue lashings on grammar to help the grammarian feel more in control is ridiculous. Why are there not reports about stress leading to cleaner bathrooms throughout America? More spontaneous creative graffiti on building walls? A rise in chocolate sales?

The truth is there are two camps in the grammar world: Those that are literally exposed to it on a regular basis due to career—such teachers, those in publishing, media or public office—and those who are not.

The new specialized unit of grammar police could simply be a case of the non-exposed running into and around with the fully exposed crowd. Aka: the Internet, excessive blogging, etc.

The truth is, those of us in the exposed grammar crowd are much harsher on one another than on the general population. The razor-sharp tongues of those inside publishing houses over a missed grammar correction, well, would make a layman blush. Or just really, really angry.

It’s been a habit of mine to argue on the side of the error-makers. Yes, part of the job is no visible “mistakes,” once that book/magazine/paper has gone to print. But it isn’t rocket science. Nobody died because there was a misplaced modifier in a sentence. Most of the rules are up for debate anyway. Just look at the serial comma.

On the other side of the coin, in the non-exposed grammar world, a little gentle chiding from the grammar elite is to be expected. In the way musicians poke fun at boy bands, or historians critique every epic war movie ever made. Heck, I still cringe when I think about the little Oklahoma establishment of Boswell Animal Kare, an establishment, I am almost certain, was the only vet in Boswell. Good times.

But the Today article sites people who likely would have climbed up that twenty-foot vet sign with a can a spray paint and a stencil for the letter “C.” I mean, cringing at an “overuse” of “quotation marks” for example, is one thing. Defacing public property to correct an error on a storefront sign or on a diner menu, however, is just… bizarre.

My advice, the next time the urge strikes to correct a flyer, or you notice a mistake in a local newsletter, hang back. Instead, pick up the phone and ask the organization if they could use a copyeditor. After all, extra cash in these hard economic times could be a stress reliever.

 
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Posted in Grammar, Literature, Punctuation, Spelling

 

Thank You January

13 Jan

It’s the time of year for thank you notes to enter into our lives, in much smaller quantities than the holiday cards of December. I am reminded of this not only from my own card sending, but from my friend Wendy, who commented on receiving a number of thank you cards, and being revived that so many people were still sending them.

There is a feeling that no one sends thank you notes anymore.  Some of my younger relatives receive gifts from my husband and me regularly, but we have never received a thank you note. Over the Thanksgiving holiday, I learned that when pressed about the issue, the parent said writing thank you notes was “old fashioned.”

So writing thank you notes, essentially, is un-cool?

I earnestly hope this is not the case, but this theory fits in with technology-based communication taking over more traditional forms (re: read my blog on friendships gone cyber). But as a whole, are we really that… ungrateful?

I know now that the art of writing thank you notes is taught (thank you, Mom), and being sentimental and creative by design, lean more toward piquing the interest of the fairer sex rather than the determined bachelor. Despite that, it is impossible to think of living in a world where people don’t take the time to write, “Thank you.”

I personally revel in thank you notes. I know part of that is a “writer” thing: it’s calming to write down a thank you, as I can express sentiment better with written words than anything else.

And to receive a thank you, well, what is better than that? Someone appreciated you so much, they took the time to buy the card, or retrieve it from a stack in the house, and write down how much they loved your gift or gesture or time. A thank you note triumphs with it’s simplicity: It leaves the receiver with a written record of the impact their kindness had on someone else.

Clearly, the simple act of putting thoughts down on paper carries a weight much heavier than the risk of being deemed “old-fashioned.”

~Lisa

PS: Thank you, Wendy, for this blog idea.
When to Send
There are a myriad of occasions to send a thank you note: after receiving gifts for birthdays, holidays, weddings or graduations; after a job or an internship interview; or when you wish to express thanks for a generous gesture, such as house sitting or helping host a party.

The best rule of thumb is to send a thank you note whenever you wish to express gratitude, and chances are the recipient will feel great gratitude in return.

Below are some links to thank-you related sites and topics.

Thank You Card Companies
Red Stamp

Vista Print

Etiquette and How-To’s
My Thank You Site

Martha Stewart Weddings

101 Ways to Say Thank You

The Thank You Book

 
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Posted in etiquette, writing

 
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