Uncomfortable realizations

If you haven’t listened to Mike Lawson’s podcast, What Some Would Call Lies, I recommend this week’s episode, even though it’s a fucking Debbie Downer (those were his words, by the way). It was about a city council meeting he had to cover when he worked at a newspaper, and it got me thinking.

I had to cover a hospital board of trustees meeting when I was a reporter in college (our university ran the morning daily for the city, and I sometimes felt kind of bad for the people who subscribed because we were definitely still in training). By the end of the meeting I realized that there was absolutely nothing newsworthy to write about. The guy running the desk that night, a graduate student, told me I’d better start pulling copy out of my ass.

That’s when I realized I wanted to kill every fucking graduate student who was ever an asshole to me. At the Mizzou Journalism School, that would have taken a while.

In any case, I wrote my required copy on how basically nothing happened and it ran in the next morning’s paper. Before I even left the newsroom, I realized I never wanted to be a reporter. That was freeing as well as frightening: I’d wanted to be a reporter ever since my parents mentioned it as something I could do to support myself while I was writing fiction. First of all, while that sounds like a great idea in theory, it just doesn’t work, at least for me, because the last thing I wanted to do once I got home was write any more. Second of all: now what? I had no idea what to do with the rest of my life, and I was almost done with college.

Fortunately, I did keep writing fiction. I also discovered that I was a pretty darn good copy editor and a competent graphic designer. But I realized I would never win the Pulitzer Prize for journalism.

I’m okay with that.

Don’t hate the playa, hate the game—but love the Game Night Guys

Hey! I got a shout-out on the latest episode of the Game Night Guys podcast. I left them a review in iTunes and also sent them a game that neither Michael, I, nor our friend Mikey could figure out. Seriously, the instructions were longer than most short stories I’ve written. They say they’re going to play it in a future episode, but I predict five minutes of game play and fifteen minutes of “What were the creators of this game thinking?”

If you’re not listening to Curtis and Brian, the hosts of GNG, I highly recommend their show. Before I started listening to them, my podcast choices were almost exclusively NPR broadcasts I didn’t have time to listen to when they aired. But Game Night Guys is like a gateway drug, and now I listen to What Some Would Call Lies (which is the creation of former Game Night Guys cohost Mike Lawson) and How Much Do We Love. They all make the time at the gym pass much faster.

See, guys? You’re helping me stay fit.

Life as an undercover Amazon

My friend ‘Nathan wrote a blog post on privileged invisibility last week, and it got me thinking about my childhood hero, Wonder Woman. Which, of course, provides a perfect excuse to post this amazingly awesome video:

No, really, I do have a point. Stay with me here.

I think one of the main reasons I liked Wonder Woman, apart from the bullet-deflecting bracelets, the superhuman strength, and the patented Exploding Disco Spin®, is that she was a woman with a secret—what gay kid can’t relate to that?—and she was able to fly under the radar as an ordinary working woman, whether she was a junior naval officer in wartime or a special government agent. (Admittedly, neither of these are ordinary jobs, but still.) When she needed to, though, with just a turn on her heels, she could be something—someone—amazing.

Wouldn’t it be nice to see ourselves that way?

Admittedly, I’m long past the time when I was so deep in the closet I could see last year’s fashion trends. On the other hand, I can easily imagine circumstances where I might not make quite so big a thing about it (hello, Arkansas, Mississippi, Alabama, and Iran, among others). I also think about people who can’t hide their secret—people of color, women, transgendered people, or the kid who is just so gay that it’s simply out there for the whole world to see.

Whoever he or she is, I really love that kid, by the way.

Some secrets have power over us, and some secrets, like Diana’s, are our source of power. Which identity is the real one, though—the one you show, or the one you hide? Diana told her sister that her secret identity allowed her to be in the right place at the right time, where she could help fight against the Nazis. Maybe, even if we don’t realize it, our secret and our power are one and the same.

There was a quote I read once from this guy who said, basically, I believe the world would be a better place if we all put on tinfoil bracelets and spun around every day and pretended we were Wonder Woman. Me too. I like to think there’s a hero in everyone, even the most unlikely of people. Even you.

Even me.

(By the way, don’t forget the wind-up. It’s the most important part of the spin.)

Days like that

I need more of them.

Since I didn’t have to go to the office yesterday, I got up late (which, for me, means sleeping in until 6 a.m.) and then went to the gym, followed by a late breakfast/early lunch at Hartford Coffee Company. (I also took that opportunity to drive past my old house again—still for sale, along with the house two doors down, which my old neighbor from across the street redid and made look fabulous.) I came home, let the dogs out, and did some more writing, then had dinner and went off to a meeting of my writing group.

Thrilling stuff, no?

I have a lot I need to get done this year. Well, actually, I have One Big Thing I need to get done: my next novel. I also have a story due in March sometime, as well as a call for submissions that’s due in April, which I’m also thinking about.

I’m not calling any of those goals resolutions though. I don’t want to be disappointed if none of them come to pass (which, of course, is never a problem because I’m so focused and disciplined—that was sarcasm, by the way; could you tell?).

I resolve not to resolve. There. That’s my resolution. But the novel really will get done, though.

If I were to make a resolution, it would probably be to lose ten pounds. I’ve started running more, and cheese and I are officially on a break. (My cholesterol turned sky high late last year, so on this I really have been more disciplined than usual—except for that grilled cheese sandwich last week. Sigh.)

My fellow writing group member Pat is doing something that could help though. She’s a food writer and has been blogging about her efforts to be healthier. She’s having great luck with it, and she’s posting some of her recipes. (I want to try the black-eyed peas and whole wheat couscous.) Check out A Food Writer Skinnies Up, and if you see her, tell her how fabulous she looks.

Oh, I know one other thing I need to do: turn on Freedom more often.

(By the way, go read this: “What Would Shakespeare Do?” by Julie Smith.)

Happiness is a niece who makes cookies for you

Well, she didn’t make the cookies just for me, but she did let me have two of them. They’re called PB Bombs, and they’re vegan, but don’t let that fool you—these things are far from healthy, and far from tasteless. Best of all, they require no baking at all.

I posted the recipe over at redroom.com. Check it out. Only four ingredients, and they take like five minutes to make.

There’s only one left in the fridge. I wonder if anyone would notice if I took it….

Speed reading, or why I still like the printed page

I just finished reading my friend Rob Byrnes‘ novel Holy Rollers yesterday, the second to feature the characters affectionately dubbed “The Gang That Can’t Do Anything Straight.” If you’ve read any of his previous books, you know to expect a lot of giggles, several laugh-out-loud moments, and at least a couple instances where he twists things into such a pretzel that you wonder how they’re going to get out of it.

I started reading this novel weeks ago on my Kobo. I kept wondering why it was taking me so long to finish it—the one thing I was sure of was that the writing was not to blame for this. And yet, it seemed like every time I picked it up, I only got a couple pages along.

Fast forward (no pun intended) to this past Friday, when the print edition arrived in the mail. As of Sunday morning, I’d finished the last 100 pages and now I’m eagerly awaiting his next book (so get cracking on that, if you would please, Rob).

I guess it never occurred to me that I might read more slowly on an e-reader, but maybe I’m not too surprised. Whenever I sit down in front of a computer screen, time seems to pass… strangely. I get less done. It’s easy to call it multitasking, but the truth is I’m easily distracted. (This is why the typewriter comes out when I’m on deadline.) Although e-ink is supposed to mimic the experience of reading a printed page, it turns out that we read 6.2 percent slower on an iPad and 10.7 percent on a Kindle.

In some ways, I can see where reading more slowly might be more desirable (increased information retention, greater comprehension). When it comes to reading for pleasure, though, I have a lot of books and not a lot of time. I’m not going to put my Kobo on eBay, but I’m not about to get rid of my library either. (This, I know, contradicts my earlier post about keeping less stuff. Still, the book collection=one item.)

What do I need all this for?

I’ve been thinking about stuff a lot lately.

No, I mean stuff, literally. The things I own. I have two dueling tendencies, I think: on the one hand, the inclination to collect things, which comes from… well, I don’t know where that comes from exactly. On the other hand, growing up in a military family meant moving a lot, so the ability to pack things quickly and carry minimal belongings seems to me, in a way, a virtue.

A lot of  the things I have, I’ve held onto for years and I don’t know why I keep them. Buffy the Vampire Slayer action figures (never call them dolls) that I never removed from the packaging? And that I bought when I was already in my 30s? Why, exactly? The pair of skinny pants that I bought probably five years ago and that I haven’t been able to fit into for three? The shirt that looks cool but never fit right to begin with? The collection of vinyl records that I haven’t played in (no exaggeration) decades?

And don’t get me started on all of the books on my shelves that I’ve read once and will probably never read again. I have a hard time thinking about getting rid of those. But everything else? What is all this stuff doing still hanging around?

This week, I finally picked up the copy of the latest Mizzou (-rah!) alumni magazine which has been sitting around for days (maybe weeks—but my magazine stack is so tall, how would I know?). This issue was all about sustainability. One of the feature stories was about a first-year medical student who, inspired by this article in Time magazine, owns 100 items.

One hundred. That’s it. No more. Including all his articles of clothing (about 25 pieces, all of which he can wash in a single laundry load). Even including his stethoscope.

I kind of like this idea, which was begun by this guy Dave Bruno, who calls the 100 Thing Challenge “a project focused on breaking free from the constraints of American-style consumerism. Have you ever stood in your closet or garage and felt stuck in stuff? Well, I did, too.”

I don’t know if I can get down to 100 things, but this appeals to me. I have all these things I don’t need, and maybe someone else would enjoy them more or get more use out of them (or, in the case of the aforementioned pants, actually fit into them). The Christmas shopping season seems like an odd time to be starting to think about this, but it also seems like the perfect time. I’m looking at things and wondering if their days are numbered. Some of them are already up on eBay.

But can I count my book collection as one item?

Buy books for a good cause

Admit it, you haven’t finished your Christmas shopping yet, have you? Are there any book lovers on your list? I might have a few ideas for you, then. But one idea I definitely have is that you should come to Left Bank Books in the Central West End on Saturday, December 17, from noon to 2 p.m. and buy your book from yours truly. Yep, I’m taking off my writer hat and putting on my bookseller hat, recommending some of my favorite books of the year and also raising money for a good cause.

It’s all part of Author to Bookseller, an event put on by the local outfits that make up the St. Louis Independent Bookstore Alliance where local authors will be hand-selling their favorite books at their favorite local bookstore. While I’m doing my shift at LBB, a percentage of sales will go to Growing American Youth, a great organization for LGBTQ youth in the St. Louis area.

So what’s not to love? I’ll tell you what’s not to love, though: forgetting someone on your Christmas list. You don’t want to be that person, do you? Of course you don’t. So come trade your money for some really good books.

Don we now our gay apparel

I love the holidays. Hey, don’t be so surprised. I know I haven’t put up a tree in years—and I may affect a bah-humbug disposition at the best of times—but I love a lot of things about this time of year: visiting family, the cold weather, the seemingly endless parade of food and drinks; and the sense of anticipation.

In keeping with that sense of anticipation, here’s something to look forward to: I’ll be reading a Christmas story (with a sort of gay twist—but then, that describes a lot of my work) at 7 p.m. this December 15 at the St. Louis Artists’ Guild. I’m a member of their Literary Arts Section and will be joining my fellow members Chris Bauer, Jeff Howe, Gail Marshall, John Newmark, Matt Quinn, and Jenifer Wallace as we read prose and poetry in keeping with the spirit of the season. And by the way, it’s free.

Want details? Of course you do. And you’ll find them all right over here….