near wild heaven

This is now, this is here, this is me, this is what I wanted you to see.

Oh dear, it's been a long time since writing. To those few of you who have periodically checked in and found nothing new, I apologize. I've thought about adding a new entry many times, and even brought myself to my 'publish post' page, where I am right now. I think I was having a crisis of communication; this means essentially that I felt I had nothing noteworthy, or even interesting, to say. And I refuse to be the blogger who makes an entry out of being and/or feeling uninteresting. This is to say that I'm feeling slightly more interesting this morning.

Big issue at all University of California campuses--the impending TA strike. I myself am a TA, and have a pretty sweet deal as far as these things go. But we've been without a contract since September 30, the union (an autoworkers union, curiously) has been negotiating for a new deal. Occasionally I receive emails from my union regarding the university's abhorrent labor practices that are non-specific and rather partisan. Anyway, the word has come down, we're to begin striking next week. This means no teaching, grading, holding of office hours, reporting of final grades. It's an ugly scenario, or at least potentially ugly. I feel for my students who are caught in the crossfire. I feel for myself, as I have rent to pay, a car payment to make on the fifth of each month, and other obligations with money. I'm really divided about this, as I believe in the value of unions--to a certain extent. They are not inherently positive or negative. Historically, I believe they have done plenty of good and plenty of bad. At the same time, I feel that corporations, businesses and (in this case) universities have done their share of damage, what with taking advantage of their workers and getting away with as little fairness as possible. It seems like unions help to keep things in balance, and sometimes labor conflict is necessary. But at what cost to union members? At what point does a strike begin to do damage to those who are striking? These are the answers I'm seeking.  

posted by: zithereen at November 26, 2003 09:25 | link | comments |

Okay, just a quick note today. I do actually need to be doing something else which peripherally involves writing--starting to cobble together a 10,000 word article on a guy named Redmond O'Hanlon--and of course I need to start reading a book. The problem is that I spend too much time at home anyway, largely because I am a graduate student. The book is Robinson Crusoe and I also need to begin writing a paper on that, due sometime in early December. I also have some old Chinese food that I have warmed up, but which still sets in the microwave awaiting me. Later on I'll sketch a few story ideas--only two months until my next deadline for workshop--and thoroughly clean my apartment, which is not dirty per se, but dusty and slowly descending into disorganiztion. That's my day, or at least the day I have in store. I envision many hours at a coffee shop this afternoon, fueling my reading with concentrated caffeine. The day I've had so far: talked to my mother about my sister's wedding yesterday (it was at the mayor's office in Gahanna, Ohio) and also about the things I have been musing about on the blog these last few days. Went to the gym, exercised, sat in steam room and jacuzzi, wonderful! Now I'm clean-shaven and ready to be all cerebral.

posted by: zithereen at November 14, 2003 13:29 | link | comments |

Have you ever surprised yourself? I mean really done it--started to find yourself wanting things--a lifestyle, let's say--that only a few years ago would have seemed unthinkable, that in fact you had sought to avoid or at least to defer? I find this happening to myself. Right now I am in year four of graduate school. Two in Iowa, and now two here in California. This after a four-year undergraduate degree. I can't imagine myself without graduate school, as a matter of fact--by this I mean that I'd be a much different guy had I not gone. And I'm better off for it. I am. I have a tangible chance now to "make it" as a writer. This means I might have a life that concerns itself largely with the issue of writing (my own and others) and literature. I'm gracious. I'm thrilled about it.

Strange, though. This window for graduate school seems to be closing on me. I have this girlfriend who lives 2,000 miles away, in the upper midwest. I love this girlfriend of mine; I have missed her dearly since moving here last summer. And yet the missing seems to have reached an entirely new level since I've returned from my summer's visit to her. It's as if something inside me finally took a look at what I'd been doing, what I was doing by driving all the way back out here, and said, "Wait! What the hell are you thinking, man? Are you mad? There is the woman you love, who loves you back, and yet here you are bent over your steering whell, guiding this machine back to California. Fool!" Or something like that. My point is that my perspective seems to be shifting around. I'm feeling stretched out and lonely, and lonely for my girlfriend, who has never once spoken a bad word about my moving way out here just for graduate school. That's the sort of good person she is. Anyway, there's something suddenly counterintuitive about travelling to see the people I love, or really just to see her. Why aren't I waking uyp next to her every morning, taking her to dinner on Friday nights, decorating an apartment with her, shopping for books, taking walks across the Mississippi River and back again? Why isn't she closely editing my book, and me hers? Maybe I'm slow about all of this. Maybe it took me time to realize that, if you're with a right person, having a relationship and a career aren't necessarily at odds, that they may feed into each other. I could go on but it is now time to call her, so please do pardon me... 

posted by: zithereen at November 13, 2003 20:34 | link | comments |

To clarify yesterday's blog: I was trying to say, primarily and above all other things, that the presence of a thing (such as a blog) is its own existential justification. It's here, you're reading it, so let's get to it and move along.

Speaking of. Nowadays I live in southern California. It's a fine place, I supppose: always temperate and pleasant (except when massive wildfires disrupt lives, destroy homes and make the air smell like a campfire), there are palm trees, exotic outdoor plants, the Pacific Ocean not a half-mile from my apartment. This is all good, yes, but at the same time I've been feeling a bit out of time lately. This is where I tell you that I grew up in Ohio, went to college in Ohio, and got a master's degree in Iowa. I'm here in search of another master's degree, this one terminal, I swear it: I'm finished with graduate school after this. Anyway, all my best friends, my family and my girlfriend live mostly in the midwest. In fact, nobody in my family ever has lived west of the Mississippi, to my knowledge. Nobody's been out to visit but my girlfriend, and let's face it, she's required. Let me say again: being here is fine. Grad school out here has been wonderful, the geography interesting and different, but there is something about the greater Los Angeles area that is lacking something I feel I need. I can't say what. I may just be feeling stretched out, I dunno. I will say that the area is sprawling, in some ways impossible to tackle. Lifelong southern Californians will dispute this with the same factual tone with which they argue that this place has four distinct seasons. I can't put a finger on it, exactly--or I could but I'd go on for much too long--but something about the region rankles me, or makes me tired, or intimidates or threatens. It's hard to say exactly, but I can say that something of the "vibe" of this place isn't exactly right for me. That's stoner-talk I know, but I swear it: I'm not stoned! But isn't it true that you get a vibe off a place, a feel for it? Some places feel right while others don't? Maybe it's just me. Thankfully I am here for graduate school and have the option to finish up next summer. I may do that; there's something about living in the shadow of Los Angeles that is exhausting sometimes. It may not be until after I've left this place that I can 1)write stories set here (though I've tried already) and, linked to that, 2)process my feelings about the place. More reportage later.

Anyway, somebody subscribe! It would make me feel good. More soon.

posted by: zithereen at November 10, 2003 22:14 | link | comments |

I've been reading through posts from some co-bloggers. Some of them I know from times past, though they do not know I've found their blog. Anyway, the blogs of old acquaintences are fine--I've wondered about these people and what they have been doing, what has gone on since we parted ways friendly or not. But on a more global scale, most of these blogs seem first interested in justifying their own existence. "Why spend time doing this when I could be at spinning class?" or "I should be reading a book but instead I am here, smoking dope and typing away without sufficient forethought." And I had to wonder, why this preoccupation with justification? The blog is a self-indulgent thing, I'll grant you that, but if I'm here writing it and you're here reading it, then what's the problem? There's mutual interest and this is all it takes. I'll tell you this. Blogging is a public diary. What I mean is that it is confessional in nature but aware of the potential for an audience. In fact, given its insta-publishable nature, it desires readers. But it's not pure confessional; in my secular mind, I feel that confessional only exists within the person, and maybe God--but there is no temporal 3rd-party who can sit in a small silent closet and have you confess your sins and require a recipe of contrition in order to right your own personal world. Involving a listener or a reader dilutes confessional work (though what isn't, ultimately?) since a tangible audience is presumed. This may be why we have this mass justification..a confessional context up against a public audience. I supopse this is why the internet can be a great thing, the way it hybrids genre. So I'm all for the gradual orientation of this new genre, but please: less self-questioning?  Less justification for your blog? If you've got a story to tell then you should tell it, no apologies. If you believe you have stories of interest to others, tell them; get out of their way, in fact. Tell the stories and believe that enough readers out in the great wide world will read what you have to say.  

posted by: zithereen at November 09, 2003 23:39 | link | comments |

Friday night, listening to an old Counting Crows song, something that was popular back when I was in college (entitled, aptly, Daylight Fading). It's 5:57, and already dark! Here the days shorten, too; they just don't get cold. Brisk, somewhat, in the winter months. The moon is clear and bright--word is, tomorrow at this time it will be in our shadow and will fade to red. I didn't know our shadow was red, but it seems worth knowing.

I spent a good portion of this beautiful day right here at my computer, as promised in yesterday's blog. And it was beautiful out there; the sky was clear in a way it rarely is in these parts, and at sunset I was staring out at the curved Long Beach shoreline, looking at downtown and Rancho Palos Verdes rising beyond that, and then out to the ocean. I could see a long way today. It was great, and I'm proud to say that I got outside into the beautiful crisp air. Earlier in the day I had the mistaken notion that I could revise not one, but two stories, and write out some journal notes onto my screen, and maybe add a few more pages to this novel. I like it when I feel that confident, even if it is revealed later as naivete, which today it so clearly was. Instead I slaved over a single story, one I'm preparing to send out to fellowship competitions. It was slow going but the going was gotten, and ultimately, can we complain about this? It's a better story than it was this morning. It's been a good day. Tomorrow I plan to read--Robinson Crusoe! Workshop manuscripts!--and, of course, do some writing. I've been trying hard lately to keep after my writing, so it's on my mind a lot, but I know it probably will not attract readers to my blog, so in future posts I'll try to be more interesting and speak less about the time I spend alone with my stories.

posted by: zithereen at November 07, 2003 18:12 | link | comments |

Every Thursday evening is funtime at my apartment. It's funtime because, despite my conscience and other better instincts, I do nothing. Not 90 minutes ago I completed my week's worth of teaching and course taking, meetings with professors and students of my own. Between Tuesday morning and right now, this time of week, I am almost constantly in motion doing all of the things I have listed above. I love doing these things. I am a writer and a graduate student because I have chosen them. I wouldn't have it any other way. I enjoy my courses. I enjoy teaching and discussing with my students their fiction. It's a good life for a guy like me to have. But it can be terribly stressful. It can actually lower my stress-tolerance for unrelated things, like the Los Angeles freeway system and terrorists who want me dead because I was born in the United States. Usually I cope with these stresses because I compartmentalize them. This goes here, that goes there. That breaks down when school whittles me down to the bone.

So, this quarter at least, every Thursday evening I refuse to do any work. Sure, I could work on that novel, and there are three stories I should revise because I'd like to send them to literary journals. But not tonight; I give myself that. I give myself the luxury of compartmentalization, and it is a luxury, this principle of order and organization. It is 5pm in California and I'm hitting my second beer. I have cable TV to watch, friends to speak to on the phone. I have a couch to lounge on. I have the internet to surf. And tomorrow, after a late breakfast at my favorite breakfast restaurant, The Potholder, I will find myself again in front of this very computer screen, hunched over, writing. And I look forward to it. If I had the energy and that variety of will, I'd do it now. But it's been a long week; I can feel it in my back.   

posted by: zithereen at November 06, 2003 17:00 | link | comments |

Okay. Here we are, I've been sucked into the world of the blog. The title says it all. But also, to set a tone I hope to follow, think of this, dear readers, as a semi-public journal. Semi meaning not publicized--definitely not, for instance, the letters of former presidents that find their way to our bookshelves with bewildering speed these days. Not like that. Also, hopefully, this won't amount to a tremendously self-involved rant. Who wants to hear that? If I want self-involved, I'll watch Mtv or, better yet, Vh1's Behind the Music. Pop culture icons are experts at self-promotion.

About that. I was dining a couple weeks back at a local restaurant I've come to frequent and this waitress, who was what we can call a pretty lady, was speaking with a customer at the table adjacent to mine. I listened because I've never been able to help myself and am endlessly nosy. I listened for a good five minutes while my omlette slowly lost its flavor. Why did it lose its flavor? It lost its flavor, and the world at large became far less interesting, because this pretty lady could not stop justifying the significance of her presence on the planet to a man who pretended to listen intently, and who nodded at all appropriate moments, but who was clearly thinking only that he would like to take this pretty lady to his bed. Point? The pretty lady never seemed to grasp this. She continued talking. This one-sided exchange concluded not because she tired of herself, but because duty called: hungry customers waiting to be fed.

My purpose here, I hope, is the act of writing and telling stories. That's what I do for real anyway. I like doing these things and I will do them here for whatever audience is willing to read what it is I have to say. If I wander from that, even momentarily, smack me in the face. I'll try not to be too witty or cute with you.

posted by: zithereen at November 03, 2003 16:02 | link | comments |