tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16650764323237536912024-03-05T22:03:34.029-08:00Gritlands BlogUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-10729946889835252132017-03-23T11:12:00.002-07:002017-03-23T11:12:56.053-07:00 TRIXI is Finalist in 2016 Foreword INDIES Awards<div style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: news-gothic-std, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: 0.28px; line-height: 1.7; margin-top: -4px;">
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TRIXI PUDONG AND THE GREATER WORLD named 2016 Foreword INDIES Book of the Year Awards Finalist</div>
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March 17, 2017</div>
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SAN FRANCISCO, TITA PASANG PRESS—Today, Tita Pasang Press is pleased to announce "Trixi Pudong and the Greater World" has been recognized as a finalist in the 19th annual Foreword INDIES Book of the Year Awards.</div>
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As part of their mission to discover, review, and share the best books from small, university, and indie publishers (and authors), independent media company Foreword Reviews hosts its annual awards program each year. Finalists represent the best books published in 2016, and submitted to Foreword Reviews for award consideration, and were narrowed down by Foreword’s editors from over 2,200 individual titles spread across 65 categories. A complete list of finalists can be found at:</div>
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<a href="https://awards.forewordreviews.com/finalists/2016/" style="color: #7b56a4; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; transition: color 0.5s, background 0.5s;">https://awards.forewordreviews.com/finalists/2016/</a></div>
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“Choosing finalists for the INDIES is always the highlight of our year, but the choice was more difficult this time around due to the high quality of submissions,” said Victoria Sutherland, publisher of <em>Foreword Reviews</em>. “Each new book award season proves again how independent publishers are the real innovators in the industry.”</div>
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INDIES finalists are moved on to final judging by an expert panel of librarians and booksellers curated specifically for each genre and who will determine the books who will be named Foreword INDIES Book of the Year Award winners. Winners in each genre—along with Editor’s Choice winners, and Foreword’s INDIE Publisher of the Year—will be announced during the 2017 American Library Association Annual Conference in Chicago on June 24, 2017.</div>
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About Foreword: Founded in 1998, Foreword Magazine, Inc, d.b.a Foreword Reviews is an independent media company featuring a Folio:Award-winning print magazine, stable of e-newsletters, and an online platform. Foreword exclusively covers small, university, and independent (non “Big 5”) publishers, the books they publish, and the creators they work with. Foreword is based in Traverse City, Michigan, USA, and has employees and writers all over the world.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-66720197069061967132017-03-02T15:06:00.000-08:002017-03-14T15:14:29.638-07:00When the Story Tree Dies<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh90UELgDTN5jmE0arIBcw-X5XGCH6PxABZG0roSQsDjLOZot4-uz6EjNH12GJDwA0sf-_PcYKmlkirlyYR7Ufl18vnkyp67WZJ0cExTP8yWsppYJ9OgVqmy-AdnHCsH5io_8zFFObGD58/s1600/Story-Tree-graphic.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh90UELgDTN5jmE0arIBcw-X5XGCH6PxABZG0roSQsDjLOZot4-uz6EjNH12GJDwA0sf-_PcYKmlkirlyYR7Ufl18vnkyp67WZJ0cExTP8yWsppYJ9OgVqmy-AdnHCsH5io_8zFFObGD58/s640/Story-Tree-graphic.png" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">As a tourist
in Beijing, the last thing you want is to have to go to a Chinese emergency
room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But there
I was on a Chinese family vacation in Beijing in 2001, having lunch in a
standard-issue, hole-in-the-wall restaurant that maintained standard-issue Chinese
cleanliness (read: dirty). And I had just gotten a fishbone stuck in my throat.
A sharp, thick, horizontal dagger of a cod bone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Panic
ensued. My sister yelled, "Your throat might swell shut and they'll have
to cut your windpipe open so you can breathe!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No!</i> I thought. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I'm not going to a Chinese emergency room! Not if it's as grimy as this
restaurant!</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My kid brother,
eleven years old, jumped into action. He instructed me to down a teacup of
vinegar, followed by a ball of rice he mashed together, to be swallowed without
chewing. It didn't work. We tried again. More vinegar, another ball of rice.
More panic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Meanwhile,
Dad was sitting across the round table from me. All calm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Several
minutes passed. Then Dad quietly asked, "Are you done yet?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">My frustrated
brother nodded. I gulped, the bone was unmoved.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Dad proceeded
to take his teacup and write something on its surface with his fingertip.
"Drink this," he said. He placed it on the lazy Susan and spun it to
me. I drank it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">"It's
not working," I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">"Wait,"
Dad said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Ten long seconds passed. Then, I could feel the fish bone wriggling its way up my
throat. It was graphic. I stuck my fingers in my mouth. My sister winced. I pulled
out the inch-long cod bone. It looked like an evil little white machete.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">"It
worked!" kid brother yelled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">"What
did you write on the tea?" I asked Dad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">"It's
a secret," he answered. "Your grandmother did it for us when we were
children, and she taught it to me before she died."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fantastic!</i> I thought. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Family secrets! My family is magic.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Except
that now it's 2017. And Dad died two weeks ago, on February 16th. And to my
knowledge, he didn't teach me nor either of my siblings what he wrote in the
teacup that day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">And with
him went hundreds of other stories that he used to tell us, stories that we
thought we'd hear over and over again to infinity. Sadly, we were wrong. We
would only hear his stories until that Thursday when he died. Dad lived through
his stories. He was the sage, the scholar, the storyteller. And even if I could
read the same facts about Einstein's relativity or the history of China on my
own, they weren't being brought to life by Dad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Death is
the ultimate blank page, open to endless interpretation. Where did Dad go?
Does he still live with us now, just invisible? Or is death just a dark, dense
black pit of nothingness where all Dad's life memories are wasted, deleted? I can
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">think</i> I know, but I can't be sure. I
do know, however, that I'll always feel like I missed a great opportunity in
not recording Dad's stories better. Darnit, I should have turned on my voice
recorder more often whenever he started talking. In the last half year of Dad's
life, he began -- only began -- to write his memoir. I tried to put him on a
schedule, twenty more pages by Christmas! But I
discovered that the Chinese technique of being a tiger parent doesn't work in
the other direction. He was so tired, uncomfortable, in pain. Okay fine,
Dad, no typing today.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Dad's
heart stopped beating on a Thursday in February. Two days before that, he had
sent me the last installment of his memoir which until then only told of the lives
of his older deceased relatives. And at the very end of the Pages document, in
bold letters, were the words: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">My
Childhood</i>. A new segment, all about Dad. He was going to write about all the
wondrous things he had seen. That new
chapter, however, only contained one lonely, solitary paragraph about being
born in Shanghai.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">The rest
of his story now remains forever suspended, invisible in the air, in the form
of words that he spoke, that we had to commit solely to our memories of him
talking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">But then, a strange coincidence happened on that exact Thursday in February. At the
beginning of this year, I had set up a giveaway for my novel, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Trixi Pudong and the Greater World</i>. And by
a bizarre chance, the deadline to enter the giveaway was midnight on the
day that Dad died, February 16th. So, that night, minutes after my siblings and
I got home from the hospital where Dad had been delivered away, I received a quiet email from Goodreads with a list of the fifty winners who would receive a copy
of my book. Over 1600 people had entered, and the list of winners was international: Twenty-seven books would be sent
within the US, eight to Canada, seven to India, six to Great Britain, and one
each to Australia and Denmark.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I spent five years
writing <i>Trixi Pudong</i>; it is my attempt at immortalizing some of Dad's stories into a
magical family saga. This way, I would never forget his stories. This way, maybe Dad's stories would shine outside of our family. To write the book, I visited Dad twice in Shanghai, scribbling down notes as he led me around his beloved city. His stories are the reason why the book exists. But they are woven into a
novel that I wrote, they are not being told by Dad anymore. I'll never re-tell them
like Dad did. What I put together, with his stories in my way, is honestly and truly the best that
I could do, but they're not in Dad's words.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLL8_6UYRpIzAQ2k0ILhDqbu2Wdjepfhv2Z0s2u8QwdFDdja6XoAVjRjpI7xLD1FvKNBWRIUzhB_4dU1120kVLC868r4YU6W-dPOH3Or9QvrLkcJ2hYUEwZprlrOb00q-Q9e4UOuUeRWQ/s1600/IMG_5760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLL8_6UYRpIzAQ2k0ILhDqbu2Wdjepfhv2Z0s2u8QwdFDdja6XoAVjRjpI7xLD1FvKNBWRIUzhB_4dU1120kVLC868r4YU6W-dPOH3Or9QvrLkcJ2hYUEwZprlrOb00q-Q9e4UOuUeRWQ/s640/IMG_5760.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Fifty books, signed and ready to be mailed off <br />on February 17, 2017.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">I think everyone in my family
feels the same way now, that trying to remember all of Dad's stories was always like trying to catch
the falling autumn leaves with our bare arms. And then one day, the story tree
died.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">No one
else in my family writes novels, no one else is that foolish. Nearly 100% percent of my relatives are engineers. Dad was an
engineer, not a writer. He was a speaker, a storyteller, but still not a writer. And as I'm putting together his
bits of memoir and interviews, I see that something will always get lost
through his own meager writings or in transcribing his speaking. I see that, just as some beautiful people are unphotogenic so you'd best see them in person,
Dad's stories were meant to be heard live. Their preservation is
life-based: Living friends and relatives will have to recount, "Remember
when Dad said such-and-such?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Those
voices will be our own. But the faint background noise will be Dad, telling us
to keep talking, to keep spending time with each other. Keep making people
laugh and stare in awe, because our family is magic.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">----------</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>An abridged version of this essay will be part of Dad's upcoming memoir. Thank you to everyone who entered my giveaway for Trixi Pudong and the Greater World. </i></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-80234501016176232702017-01-18T10:32:00.000-08:002017-01-18T10:37:40.454-08:00Aaaaand, starting the year with some basics.<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Happy New-ish Year, everyone!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I decided to start this year with a few goals to keep my book, <i><a href="http://trixipudong.com/" target="_blank">Trixi Pudong and the Greater World</a></i>, visible to new readers out there with a Goodreads Giveaway. And it looks like this:</span></span><br />
<div id="goodreadsGiveawayWidget218262">
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/" target="_new">Goodreads</a> Book Giveaway
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<div style="float: left;">
<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/33651904"><img alt="Trixi Pudong and the Greater World by Audrey Mei" src="https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1483232930l/33651904.jpg" title="Trixi Pudong and the Greater World by Audrey Mei" width="100" /></a>
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/33651904">Trixi Pudong and the Greater World</a>
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by <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15444416.Audrey_Mei" style="text-decoration: none;">Audrey Mei</a>
</h4>
<div class="giveaway_details">
Giveaway ends February 16, 2017.
<br />
See the <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/218262" style="text-decoration: none;">giveaway details</a>
at Goodreads.
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<a class="goodreadsGiveawayWidgetEnterLink" href="https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/enter_choose_address/218262">Enter Giveaway</a>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Enter by Feb. 16 to win a signed copy!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I'm not going to lie: Marketing your own creative works is hard. Making it sound easy would be a disservice to artists across the board, especially those who lack a little narcissism. But on that long road into the distance of self-promotion, I have definitely learned something very valuable: It is much easier to market a work that is finding a following and getting good reviews. Does that sound obvious? Maybe, but it's not. Many of my highly-educated, talented creative friends happen to make things that the mainstream, average consumer has difficulty appreciating. (</span><a href="https://www.moviefone.com/2016/08/01/howard-the-duck-george-lucas-facts/" style="font-size: x-large;" target="_blank">They're far from alone</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">.) Yet artists </span><i style="font-size: x-large;">must </i><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">follow their hearts to find their voices, hone their craft, practice their technique. Passion is the creative mind's engine -- or solar panel, wind turbine, whatever. Then, once in a while, a work will stick out and seem to surf away on the hands of an unexpected, enthusiastic audience.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Meanwhile, stay in touch with The Gritlands by following me on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/TheGritlands" target="_blank">Facebook</a> or signing up for the very once-in-a-while newsletter. Thank you for your support!</span></span><br />
<br />
<script src="//static.mailerlite.com/data/webforms/156687/y6b4l5.js?v8" type="text/javascript"></script>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-66207243953275554742016-08-28T03:03:00.000-07:002016-08-22T11:39:05.968-07:00My upcoming blog tour schedule!<div style="color: black;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgABDdH2U9VImjt7n0Gict8I9pDLlKtsiLvFpYKH2n_9A9B5JeLURTZ-StFmq3A4gSCcsNNw3PYjC_iPyunXd2ocQFREUn0Rddn59iSOBnxpaC6mQvwPfHhYqnHiqjU9-6qW-BfzE6AN0A/s1600/i-paparazzi-degli-anni-60.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgABDdH2U9VImjt7n0Gict8I9pDLlKtsiLvFpYKH2n_9A9B5JeLURTZ-StFmq3A4gSCcsNNw3PYjC_iPyunXd2ocQFREUn0Rddn59iSOBnxpaC6mQvwPfHhYqnHiqjU9-6qW-BfzE6AN0A/s640/i-paparazzi-degli-anni-60.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thank you to <a href="http://quanietalkswriting.com/" target="_blank">Quanie Miller</a> for setting up my blog tour for <i><a href="http://www.trixipudong.com/" target="_blank">Trixi Pudong and the Greater World</a></i>!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'll be writing guest posts on why I wrote the book, what I learned from it, and lots of other juicy subjects that I hope will get you thinking, too. Thank you, thank you to my wonderful blog hosts for generously posting my writing. I will update these links as my guest posts go live.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Drop me a note, give me a call, catch me on my flights across the country!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">(Actually... "flights" between the refrigerator and my laptop...)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And if you enjoy what you read, THANK YOU for sharing my posts. It benefits me and my blog hosts. We are all working writers, many of us indie authors, who appreciate the word of mouth.</span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My Virtual Itinerary</span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />Monday, August 15: "Documenting My Family's Old Shanghai," hosted by Lidy Wilks at <i><a href="https://pavingmyauthorsroad.wordpress.com/2016/08/15/trixie-pudong-and-the-greater-world/#more-4059" target="_blank">Paving My Author's Road.</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Wednesday, August 17: "Tips for Writing a Page-Turner," hosted by Quanie MIller at <i><a href="http://www.quanietalkswriting.com/tips-for-writing-a-page-turner/#comment-3472" target="_blank">Quanie Talks Writing</a></i>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thursday, August 18: "The Anatomy of Productive Inspiration," hosted by Diedre Knight at <i><a href="https://pensivepenspost.blogspot.de/2016/08/where-there-are-dreams.html?showComment=1471590806197#c6939643046623334916" target="_blank">Pensive Pens Post</a></i>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Saturday, August 20: "Why the Difference? The Puzzle of China and the Greater World," hosted by Stephanie Faris at <i><a href="https://stephie5741.blogspot.de/2016/08/the-history-of-china-and-world-guest.html?showComment=1471700065114#c8982975179542512103" target="_blank">Stephie 5741</a></i>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Monday, August 22: Author feature hosted by Michele Tracy Berger at <i><a href="https://micheleberger.wordpress.com/2016/08/22/magical-realism-a-shanghai-family-saga-and-finding-ones-readers-author-interview-with-audrey-mei/" target="_blank">Michele Berger/Creative Tickle</a>.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Wednesday, September 7: "What? Why? How?" hosted by Linda Sienkiewicz at <i><a href="http://lindaksienkiewicz.com/blog" target="_blank">Linda K Sienkiewicz</a>.</i></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-6163291729639750622016-08-23T08:56:00.000-07:002016-08-23T09:08:53.702-07:00My Blog Tour #5: Magical Realism, a Shanghai Family Saga and Finding One's Readers <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDT6sPesVON59jamLO5tQs6vQ_DxlaV8Sbhwf3SB1S9nF1dfsOyYM9g0maFKbGNjq_7wGE_Y72n_J613m2qtUTUFK74dhtbo1LgV6xB6UsREfU_A47deG-vrxzCHpYWwfp824mOJw5rGY/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-08-23+at+5.54.38+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDT6sPesVON59jamLO5tQs6vQ_DxlaV8Sbhwf3SB1S9nF1dfsOyYM9g0maFKbGNjq_7wGE_Y72n_J613m2qtUTUFK74dhtbo1LgV6xB6UsREfU_A47deG-vrxzCHpYWwfp824mOJw5rGY/s640/Screen+Shot+2016-08-23+at+5.54.38+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">"I'm so happy to participate in the blog tour of new author, Audrey Mei. I'm grateful to </span><a href="http://quanietalkswriting.com/" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;" target="_blank">Quanie Miller</a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;">, a wonderful writer and blogger who helped bring us together. Given Audrey's amazingly diverse creative practices that run the gamut of music, writing, health and science, I knew she would be a great person to interview. In our correspondence, we've discovered that we have many overlapping interests.</span></span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><i><b>-Tell us about your recent book, Trixi Pudong and the Greater World. Why did you want to write this book?</b> </i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><i>Continue reading at <a href="https://micheleberger.wordpress.com/2016/08/22/magical-realism-a-shanghai-family-saga-and-finding-ones-readers-author-interview-with-audrey-mei/" target="_blank">Michele T. Berger's blog</a></i>.</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-25624236463536129852016-08-20T15:21:00.002-07:002016-08-20T15:21:30.395-07:00My Blog Tour #4: The History of China and the World<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCb5CTfdkNQgVsP0Cx4I4AiiwzB9aQ6Be1BkoXl9uGeWan0LNtI1IA-1Ni0HXwt66FdAZtj52K0RMUG2xEANeBlHA_Lws9jc4pRiwAvxsveUQadSMF_5vCViXE9R272nSOTzeApmhI19o/s1600/ShenDuGiraffePainting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCb5CTfdkNQgVsP0Cx4I4AiiwzB9aQ6Be1BkoXl9uGeWan0LNtI1IA-1Ni0HXwt66FdAZtj52K0RMUG2xEANeBlHA_Lws9jc4pRiwAvxsveUQadSMF_5vCViXE9R272nSOTzeApmhI19o/s640/ShenDuGiraffePainting.jpg" width="324" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;">A giraffe brought from Somalia in the twelfth year of Yongle (1414)/(wikimedia)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><i>Rich and poor.</i></span><br style="background-color: #fcfcfc; line-height: 18.48px;" /><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><i>Giant and small.</i></span><br style="background-color: #fcfcfc; line-height: 18.48px;" /><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><i>Upstairs the foreigners, downstairs the Chinese.</i></span><br style="background-color: #fcfcfc; line-height: 18.48px;" /><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><i>The foreigners shine like gold and diamonds.</i></span><br style="background-color: #fcfcfc; line-height: 18.48px;" /><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><i>And we Chinese are dull like bamboo and clay.</i></span><br style="background-color: #fcfcfc; line-height: 18.48px;" /><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><i>Why the difference?</i></span><br style="background-color: #fcfcfc; line-height: 18.48px;" /><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc; line-height: 18.48px;"></span><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;">In my book, <i>Trixi Pudong and the Greater World</i>, Edwin Kuo is an 8-year-old boy in Shanghai, 1938, a city colonized by virtually every country in the West: England, France, the United States, Russia, Germany, Italy, and Holland, for starters. Edwin asks himself the question "Why the difference?" between the poverty-stricken Chinese and the wealthy foreigners from the world outside China's borders. He continues to search for the answer throughout the book as he sails through World War II with the British Merchant Navy, and later works as a ship's captain in Communist China.</span><br style="background-color: #fcfcfc; line-height: 18.48px;" /><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc; line-height: 18.48px;"></span><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;">I don't know at what point in time I decided to integrate the question of "Why the difference?" into my book. I think it began with the idea of making Edwin a very precocious little boy, despite having miserable grades at school. At my release event in Berlin on August 6, I was unexpectedly grateful that I had added this dimension into my book because there were academics and journalists in my audience who were particularly intrigued by this question. They spoke to me about it after my reading, and it was pleasant surprised for me as a first-time author.</span><br style="background-color: #fcfcfc; line-height: 18.48px;" /><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc; line-height: 18.48px;"></span><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;">And of course, I'm just fascinated in subjects like: Why did the West rise to power starting in the 19th century, even though humanity's greatest inventions had come out of Asia and the Middle East until then?</span><br style="background-color: #fcfcfc; line-height: 18.48px;" /><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc; line-height: 18.48px;"></span><span style="background-color: #fcfcfc;">Specifically, how did China, a country that led the world's civilizations for thousands of years, become so poor?</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Continue reading at <a href="https://stephie5741.blogspot.de/2016/08/the-history-of-china-and-world-guest.html?showComment=1471700065114#c8982975179542512103" target="_blank">Stephanie Faris' blog</a>.</i></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-9612582596814896332016-08-18T15:20:00.003-07:002016-08-18T15:21:28.756-07:00My Blog Tour #3: The Anatomy of Productive Inspiration<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg22IQoocU1-p6jkoPoncCsfDv1PRwPWL5KLqjWEBWiEopnJvFEHXPzbR-MKXKeJprL8PEl7cOZFLgOJjBphkVoY2m7m5_Xw0Lv-w9TUdL-IfIzFVbtSvl-FEG2wR_VMzcZnRqgu4M5gu0/s1600/leben_der_anderen_kolibri1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg22IQoocU1-p6jkoPoncCsfDv1PRwPWL5KLqjWEBWiEopnJvFEHXPzbR-MKXKeJprL8PEl7cOZFLgOJjBphkVoY2m7m5_Xw0Lv-w9TUdL-IfIzFVbtSvl-FEG2wR_VMzcZnRqgu4M5gu0/s640/leben_der_anderen_kolibri1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">The typewriter with the red ink from the movie <i>The Lives of Others</i>.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Thank you Diedre at Pensive Pens Post for hosting me on my blog tour! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This week, I've posted about why I wrote my novel <i>Trixi Pudong and the Greater World</i> on <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=https://pavingmyauthorsroad.wordpress.com/&source=gmail&ust=1471644820922000&usg=AFQjCNHSyY7bMzbBU4L8Yl0dOaJqleVUEw" href="https://pavingmyauthorsroad.wordpress.com/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Lidy Wilks' blog</a>, and on <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://quanietalkswriting.com/&source=gmail&ust=1471644820922000&usg=AFQjCNGGgcLD2RpDVhrMpvwghJ045hpPjA" href="http://quanietalkswriting.com/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Quanie Miller's blog</a> about the secret to writing a page-turner that moves forward. Today I'm writing about Inspiration, how I use Inspiration as a concrete tool in my writing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm one of those authors that writes backward -- to create something that moves forward. My inspiration comes from knowing where my book ends. And how the chapter ends, and how the paragraph ends.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But how do I find a good point of inspiration to work towards? Well, you know that feeling when you see a movie or read a book and that profound moment comes where you think, "This is <i>great</i>"? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Like the scene at the end of Sofia Coppola's <i>Lost in Translation </i>where...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Continue reading my guest post at <a href="https://pensivepenspost.blogspot.de/2016/08/where-there-are-dreams.html?showComment=1471557266747#c3239431848841182880" target="_blank">Diedre Knight's blog.</a></i></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-57108071897366907982016-08-17T14:10:00.000-07:002016-08-18T15:22:01.478-07:00My Book Blog Tour #2: Tips for Writing a Page-Turner<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8px;">
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<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"I'm crying, your book is so great."</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It was one day since I'd sent my manuscript out to a round of beta-readers. I was nervous. Then I started getting real-time updates from people as they read my book.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"I have SO much to do this weekend, but I can't stop reading your book!"</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And I realized, I had written a page-turner. A 120,000-word, historical, <i>literary fiction</i> page-turner! Talk about an oxymoron.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It hadn't even been my goal to write a big, fat, Chinese family saga that readers would eat up in two days, although I was very (cautiously) flattered when feedback started rolling in sooner than expected. My goal was just to write really well, to cleanse my manuscript of the most pernicious mistakes that writers make. However, in retrospect, I learned from writing <i><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://www.trixipudong.com/&source=gmail&ust=1471549881617000&usg=AFQjCNE3xRLUawEl4SecUAZBHd3q11CB6w" href="http://www.trixipudong.com/" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">Trixi Pudong and the Greater World</a> </i>that to create a true page-turner, you need two things.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #444444;">Continue reading on</span> <a href="http://www.quanietalkswriting.com/tips-for-writing-a-page-turner/" style="color: #222222;" target="_blank">Quanie Miller's Blog...</a></span></i></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-5548314063443582252016-08-15T10:49:00.000-07:002016-08-18T15:22:42.227-07:00My Book Blog Tour: Documenting My Family's Old Shanghai<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Many thanks to <a href="https://pavingmyauthorsroad.wordpress.com/2016/08/15/trixie-pudong-and-the-greater-world/#more-4059" target="_blank">Lidy Wilks</a> for hosting my blog tour for <i><a href="http://www.trixipudong.com/" target="_blank">Trixi Pudong and the Greater World</a></i>. I've written about why I wrote this book. Here's an introduction... Enjoy!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I was born in Oakland and grew up like many of the Asian Americans who now populate Northern California. My parents worked and made sure my sister and I each had our own bedrooms, our own cars, and that we'd graduate from college with multiple degrees, debt-free. I was privileged.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My father came from Shanghai but in my suburban childhood, Dad's origins didn't play a big role. Imagine that: Dad was born in the 1930s in the fabled Paris of the Orient, one of the most decadent cities to have ever existed. A storied city of dreams, thousands of times more debaucherous than Las Vegas. And I didn't know anything about it. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Continue reading at <a href="https://pavingmyauthorsroad.wordpress.com/2016/08/15/trixie-pudong-and-the-greater-world/#more-4059" target="_blank">Lidy Wilks's blog</a>!</i></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-71128057023653938812016-08-07T12:22:00.001-07:002016-08-07T12:35:49.416-07:00Warm and fuzzy book launch success! And when you don't know what you're going to read...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And imagine the scent of sandalwood incense and bitter Chinese <i>baijiu</i> wine. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And the sounds of people chatting, sharing ideas, laughing, getting caught up with long-lost contacts. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Now you're starting to get the feeling of my book launch event from last night, aka My Little Shanghai Project. Just starting.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Having just moved into Berlin with a toddling 2-year-old and with my life packed in banker's boxes, organizing this event was stressful for my perfectionist self. Honestly -- as ALL my guests know by now -- I still didn't know which excerpts I was going to read aloud from my book, <i><a href="http://trixipudong.com/" target="_blank">Trixi Pudong and the Greater World</a></i>,<i> </i>even as people were arriving. This is very rare for me. All my writer life, I have not only prepared my reading list weeks before my events, but I have also rehearsed my readings in front of my writing partners. I'm a planning freak.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So yesterday, I stayed nervous, procrastinated, and mingled with my own friends until one of my closest author buddies (who'd just flown in from LA) arrived, one hour late. She had just stepped foot in the <a href="http://rotebeete.com/" target="_blank">Rote Beete Cafe</a> and I was already grabbing her arm whispering to her, "I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO READ YET."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And you know what? She was calm. She smiled. Her words rescued me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Just read any passage that you feel good about. It doesn't even have to be in chronological order. I've done readings that jumped around my book, and people still loved it. </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">You don't have to tell the whole story. </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Read anything that sets up the time and the feeling of the book. "</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Got that? The <i>time</i> and the <i>feeling</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">She went on: "A book reading usually goes on for 30 or 40 minutes. That isn't too long. Your audience will listen to you for that long."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"But do you think I should read something from each segment of my book?" I asked her. There are four stories in Trixi Pudong.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"No. <i>Just read any passage you feel good about</i>."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Dear blog visitor, I can. not. even. tell you how relieved I was to hear this. She helped me to make a very important last-minute decision at my big event of the year: <i>Just wing it, gosh darnit.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So there I was. I walked up to the front of the bar, turned off the music, took the mic, and announced to my audience that I was <i>totally unprepared</i> to read. That I'd start reading on page 3. Then, see what happens.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">How'd it go? FANTASTIC. My friend was right. The audience <i>does</i> get caught up in the story. They <i>do</i> react to the tender spots that felt tender years ago when I first wrote them. They <i>do</i> want to know what happens. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I also discovered that after staring at my own manuscript for seven years, I had lost track of what was good about it. But yesterday, I was completely caught by surprise by my audience's reaction.<i> The layers,</i> they said. <i>The politics, the emotions</i>.<i> So many interesting elements!</i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Really? My book? You think it's that good? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I don't even know what to say.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-43680202242054161882016-08-05T14:07:00.000-07:002016-08-05T14:07:26.317-07:00The week before launch!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm a fun person. Really. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ok, I admit I'm not so much fun since I got married and pooted out a baby who just turned 2 years old in July. But really... I used to be the Fun Meister that everyone wanted to know. I sharpened my teeth during my years living in Berlin in 2006-2010. It was harsh. It was a survival marathon. I have an entire bank of stories yet to tell from that era.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So it's been a while since I threw a P-A-R-T-Y, but girl's gotta still have it!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">On Saturday (aka "tomorrow"), I'm going to try convert the Rote Beete Bar in Berlin-Schöneberg into Old Shanghai for the book launch event for <i><a href="http://trixipudong.com/" target="_blank">Trixi Pudong and the Greater World</a></i> (trailer below).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">My launch party includes a Chinese Street Food buffet (zha jiang noodles, scallion pancakes, rice crackers, and fruits) plus an AWESOME Asian-themed cocktail menu (Red Lotus, Yoghurt Soju, and Summer at the Bund cocktails). There will be short films, cabaret music from Old Shanghai, a reading from my book, and of course, well... books.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And I'm doing it all myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Having a 2-year-old child to take care of while planning an event meant starting very very early. I have a thing for being organized, so I went gung-ho with my To-Do lists and even began practicing the recipes for the food months ago. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Last weekend, I had an impromptu cocktail-mixing meeting with some friends along the river in Berlin-Friedrichshain to make sure that my exotic drinks were even drinkable in Europe. BOY AM I GLAD I TESTED THEM. Chinese alcohol is STRONG. In particular <i>baijiu</i>, a 54% schnaps that has been described as "paint thinner and a liquid lobotomy." To make sure that my guests don't regret showing up to my party, I had to drastically adjust the proportions. It's perfect now :-). I really hope everyone likes Summer at the Bund. Just getting the whiff of <i>baijiu</i> from this guava-based cocktail really transports you to a rooftop bar along the Huangpu River in Shanghai.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Next up, the Asian Store Safari. There were many rare ingredients that I had to track down in Berlin. Aside from finding a good-yet-affordable bottle of <i>baijiu</i>, I had to find lychee liqueur, Korean Soju wine, Yakult yoghurt drink, and all those Asian sauces... Oh the sauces... hoi sun, miso, jajang, and bean paste. These items are found in those occasional "Asiamarkt" stores throughout Berlin, usually run by Vietnamese families. But of course, no ONE store will have everything I need. I have to make several stops. And unfortunately, these aren't places where you can call them to check what they have in stock.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Because if the Asian store has a phone number on their website, they might not have a phone. If they have a phone, they might not answer it. If they answer it, they might not understand you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Therefore, the only option is to hit the road and go see these stores in person. And for anyone who hasn't been to Berlin, that's a LOT of trekking. Berlin is a flat pancake of crazy, artistic, international culture, which means many hours in the S-Bahn and U-Bahn, schlepping bottles of highly flammable Asian liqueurs on my back while I hunt down two heads of Napa cabbage (aka "Chinakohl" in German).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Along the way, I ventured to the Dong Xuan Center in East Berlin. There, I saw the usual zoo of bizarre fruits and meats. I managed to pick up most of my ingredients here.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The last thing I was able to find was the Yakult shots that I need for the Yoghurt Soju cocktail. I was surprised that the Vietnamese markets had none. Thankfully, the trusty Kaiser's supermarket at Ring Center on Frankfurter Allee had Yakult!! Whew!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Yesterday and today I've been cooking, cooking, cooking. I'm staying with my in-laws, since we just moved out of Bamberg to Berlin (oh yeah, that too. We moved). But because I'm an organization freak, my in-laws never knew what an insane Chinese food-factory their kitchen became while they were at work. The sauce is done, the pancakes are ready to be warmed up on Saturday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Tonight, I'm going to double-check my music and videos. Then make sure I can squeeze into my silk dress (think Singapore Airlines, but in purple) that I haven't worn since 2009. Gulp.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Can't wait to see you there!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Book Launch!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://trixipudong.com/" target="_blank">Trixi Pudong and the Greater World</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Saturday 6 August</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>5pm</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><a href="http://rotebeete.com/" target="_blank">Rote Beete Cafe and Bar</a></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Gleditschstr 71</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Berlin-Schöneberg</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>U7 Eisenacher Strasse and Kleistpark</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>U1-4 Nollendorf Platz</i></span><br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-3148428822079336652016-07-31T01:51:00.000-07:002016-07-31T04:29:30.322-07:00Maximizing a book trailer's potential<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Book trailers are an awkward genre. Somewhere between movie trailer and short film, animation and PowerPoint presentation, spoken word performance and late-night informercial.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And very, very often, just plain bad. Sorry.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But book trailers are a new concept, and the quality of a nascent art form is always iffy. With book trailers, authors of extremely varying skills and background have to either cobble together their own movie or spend unknown thousands hiring someone to make it for them, of further unknown quality.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And who watches book trailers anyway?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Well, judging from my research checking Youtube View stats for hundreds of trailers... </span><br />
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Practically nobody.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Furthermore, an expensive, professionally produced trailer doesn't necessarily sell more books. I've compared Youtube and Amazon pages (and reviews). But a hideous trailer doesn't repel potential readers, either. After all, your target audience consists of readers, not movie fans.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Therein lies the conflict of book trailers. Some are excellent, boasting perfect effects, acting, narration, and timing. But a viewer who loves that is probably a film freak, not a bookworm. And the media company who knows how to get 100,000 views for that trailer may not know how to reach a single Goodreads nerd.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Book trailers also sit squarely in the realm of the self-published book, since indie authors -- no wait, <i>all</i> authors, actually, but alas another day -- have to provide all their own marketing. As we know, the self-publishing industry is an endless, shallow pool of creations where readers searching for a good book have to wade ankle-deep through the titles and open each cover, one by one. Similarly, with the cheap digital tools that are available to the lay-filmmaker, book trailers are also multiplying in every corner like fungus.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I decided to watch a bunch of book trailers from 2015-16 and give those little digital reels some desperately needed love. The take-away from my research: Good writing sells a book best. The trailer doesn't seem to matter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Book trailers should be their own genre, independent from the books they are supposed to sell, I dare say. Because there are some that I really loved, among the ocean of amateurish, cringe-inducing clips. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">As I mentioned, a great trailer doesn't guarantee a great book. But I did find that trailers can be a useful way of showing yourself off as an intelligent, interesting writer. </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Authors, are you maximizing your trailer's potential?</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">1. A book trailer can reveal an author's storytelling ability.</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Check out this gorgeous trailer for the book <a href="https://www.amazon.com/hashtagged-This-how-future-started-ebook/dp/B00VJ520QC/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1469872740&sr=1-1#navbar" target="_blank"><i>#hashtagged</i></a> by <a href="http://www.kimberlyhixtrant.com/" target="_blank">Kimberly Hix Trant</a>. Like with many of the most polished book trailers, Trant has the personal advantage of not only her background in journalism, but also in technology. But beyond the sparkles, Trant shows us that she knows how to make good writerly decisions. She hooks us in with emotions -- a family relationship. She chooses her words wisely -- no rambling text. She has a feel for timing -- not a dull second in this 1:43 trailer. In fact, the bar is set very high with this Terminator-esque teaser. It makes me curious if the book matches up.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">2. A book trailer can reveal how expressive you are.</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So you don't have a family-run graphics and filmmaking business? Here's a lower-tech success, the trailer for <a href="http://www.harrisonkitteridge.com/" target="_blank">Harrison Kitteridge's</a> fan fiction <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Sherlock-Holmes-Adventure-Paper-Journal-ebook/dp/B01E4W612A/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1469873810&sr=1-1&keywords=sherlock+holmes+paper+journal#navbar" target="_blank"><i>Sherlock Holmes and the Adventure of the Paper Journal</i></a>. Browsing Kitteridge's website, it's obvious that he does his own design and graphics, the sketched line being his dominant medium. He's a perfect example of Less is More, and that a scribble can be as expressive as a Caravaggio. What he shows us with his trailer: humor, humanity, and expressiveness. I expect something innovative and simultaneously traditional in the Sherlock Holmes way. There's a fair amount of text in the trailer, but it flows, leading me to believe he might have a good sense of timing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/AHg8OlERIMU/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/AHg8OlERIMU?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">3. A book trailer can give us quick, thorough impressions. And tell us if the author knows what he or she wants.</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">A picture is worth a thousand words. So a book trailer should save us the trouble of slogging through 15 pages of descriptive paragraphs, right? Take a look at Robert Isenberg's trailer for <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Mysterious-Tongue-Vermillion-Adventures-Elizabeth/dp/0692534385/ref=la_B004GLHYBM_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1469875411&sr=1-3" target="_blank">The Mysterious Tongue of Dr. Vermilion</a></i>. Based on the credits on his Vimeo site, it looks like this is homemade. With poetic economy, Isenberg tells us <i>where</i> and <i>when</i> the stories in his book take place with poetic economy. He also uses timing to literally get the viewer's heart pounding (you gotta see this!). And he chooses images based on their dramatic effect and emotion, in contrast to the bland, stock photo slide-show trailers that I've seen by the dozen. That gives me faith in Isenberg's sense of storytelling.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzsoJnLey-7arDSYXmePQwFtAoOGAK_Qstiwy2ZReZhLWcJbpSguDJk2Y1basn07xygdlTdjWXlHh7C-T981w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I only have time to showcase these three today. Stay tuned for more thoughts and featured trailers. I'll post about the Most Common Mistakes I think authors make in book trailers. Meanwhile, what do you think? Do you watch book trailers? Have you bought a book because of its trailer?</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-60859868724816799482016-07-18T07:32:00.001-07:002016-07-31T03:11:33.401-07:00The Soul Pain of Receiving Feedback<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"I would rather [FILL IN THE BLANK] than hear honest feedback about my writing."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Every region in the world has its natural disasters: tornados, floods, malaria, earthquakes. Up here in the Gritlands where artists are hard at work, we've been spared all of those. Perfect weather all year on stable ground. Great, right? Not so fast. Because what we have instead is potentially much worse: honest feedback.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Let's be honest about honest feedback: It hurts.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And oh, how you deal with it. Do these voices sound familiar?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>But I want that chapter to be unclear.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>You're not my target reader anyway. You just don't get it.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>A vague sense of place and time is the effect I want.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I don't want to write like mainstream authors! They all suck.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Your suggestions take away all the style of my writing.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>If you were a real friend, you'd be supportive of my writing.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Your comments made zero sense to me. None. At all.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The feedback-butthurt is so intense that it's tempting to flee into Pokemon Go or binge-watching cat videos on YouTube instead. You want to quit your writer group and find a new one, but then you've already joined all 7 groups in town. And they all suck.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But do you realize something? If you just run away from the hurt, you're <i>not gritting</i>. You're not getting any better. You are failing as a working artist. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Then there is the other way to deal with feedback: Face it. Go through the pain. I've been through it so many times that I've dissected it into 7 steps: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Step 1:</b> Receive feedback. Wince. Collapse. Cry.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Step 2:</b> THANK MY TORMENTORS. No matter how "off" their comments are, no matter how insulted and offended I think I feel, I always express gratitude. Always. Because even if their comments seem irrelevant (but often not anymore after a few days and several deep breaths), they are *still* my readers, responding to my writing. This important step also reminds me internally that the pain is temporary. I obligate myself to be mature about it and address the feedback. (waahhhhh!!!)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Step 3:</b> Retreat and lick wounds. This is the dark valley of artistic depression. We're not artists if we don't know this place. Approximate duration: 36 hours.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Step 4:</b> Realize that I am improving NOW by going through the pain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Step 5:</b> Get back to work. Grit.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Step 6:</b> Look at how much better my work is!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Step 7:</b> Return to feedback group and feel proud when they respond more positively.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I can't tell you how intimately I know these seven steps. I have had too many endeavors that never would have seen the light of day if I'd rejected the soul pain of feedback. I look back at the dark, depressing nights when the nagging Voices of Feedback kept me awake. In music, art, and writing. And I recognize that these nights were a sign that I was creating something great. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I spent 5 years working on my manuscript, and it hurt like heck. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Now I'm <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Trixi-Pudong-Greater-World-Audrey-ebook/dp/B01HY5SCIA/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1468609708&sr=1-1&keywords=trixi+pudong+and+the+greater+world#nav-subnav" target="_blank">proud of it</a>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">That's the life of an artist.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Happy gritting!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-33829550155773130992016-07-17T04:11:00.000-07:002016-07-31T03:12:43.991-07:00Comp Titles for a #DiverseBook<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyAI2-HZoc-s7NsDMYaLX2gNgYIt-GHvGvWXhwOnvLRAYtBiahuKmWmhnn3NXZZuZ_rgGYBN7-T049rJNdbOWJ_bah5nPt-wvvxGyyb73x2WZYygEP0nkRHCOww8lJjuT3kQklBLYNcK0/s1600/Comp-titles-row.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="622" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyAI2-HZoc-s7NsDMYaLX2gNgYIt-GHvGvWXhwOnvLRAYtBiahuKmWmhnn3NXZZuZ_rgGYBN7-T049rJNdbOWJ_bah5nPt-wvvxGyyb73x2WZYygEP0nkRHCOww8lJjuT3kQklBLYNcK0/s640/Comp-titles-row.png" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Who is your target audience?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">That's another question that I was too lazy to answer. Until this week.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Because now I'm getting ready for book launch [tightening my shoelaces and carb-loading] and with a 2-year-old kid to raise, I have to be wise with my time in approaching people to read an advanced copy of <i><a href="http://trixipudong.com/" target="_blank">Trixi Pudong and the Greater World</a>.</i> It is fascinating how it stands out to me now who will read my book. And who won't.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I've been to writer's conferences and I've seen the kind of people who <i>won't</i> give my book the time of day, not in a million years. Here they are:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">- YA readers</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">- Sci-Fi readers</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">- Dystopian readers</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">- Romance fans</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">- Western/Victorian historical fiction fans</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">- Vampire and zombie folks... nope nope nope.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But who do I think would love <i>Trixi</i>? Some key words: world literature, Asian fiction, multicultural family saga, magical realism.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My target reader probably loves the same books I do:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>The Life of Pi </i>by Yann Martel</span><br />
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoe</i><i>t </i>by David Mitchell</span><br />
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>The Kite Runner </i>by Khaled Hosseini</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">See? Multicultural books!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And then there are the books that I not only love, but studied in great detail to build the various voices in <i>Trixi Pudong</i>:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>The Song of Everlasting Sorrow </i>by Wang Anyi</span><br />
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Lust, Caution </i>by Eileen Chang</span><br />
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>The Shipping News </i>by Annie Proulx</span><br />
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>The Sailor Who Fell with Grace from the Sea </i>by Yukio Mishima</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">There you have it, more multicultural fiction. (Including <i>The Shipping News;</i> Newfoundland exists in its own dimension). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">My target readers tend to be -- but are not limited to: travelers, expats, adult kids of interracial marriages, baby boomers. Holders of university degrees, or even people who are just incredibly outgoing and make lots of close friends from different countries. It's a pretty big description cloud, but one thing is for sure: my target reader isn't afraid of a blast of... <i>color</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Maybe you know what I mean.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">There is a subtext to this post, which I had the pleasure of hitting face-on as an Asian writer: The publishing industry is dominated vastly by people who don't relate to the titles that I just named. If the big players in an industry don't relate to certain books, they also don't think they can sell them. I'm not blaming anyone and, believe it or not, I'm not even offended. This is just how things are.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Fortunately, writers of #diversebooks have an excellent tool at their disposal: self-publishing. My author buddy </span><a href="http://quanietalkswriting.com/" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;" target="_blank">Quanie Miller</a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> put it well with her usual rib-aching humor in her </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">post <a href="http://www.quanietalkswriting.com/dont-even-get-me-started-self-publishing-and-the-need-for-diverse-stories/" target="_blank">"Don't Even Get Me Started: Self-Publishing and the Need for Diverse Stories."</a></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Do I think everyone should self-publish? No, absolutely not. I don't think everyone should write a book, either. But more on that later. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Wait!!! Before I forget, here's my BOOK that I'm talking about: <a href="http://trixipudong.com/" target="_blank">Trixi Pudong and the Greater World</a>, now in ebook available on <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Trixi-Pudong-Greater-World-Audrey-ebook/dp/B01HY5SCIA/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1468609708&sr=1-1&keywords=trixi+pudong+and+the+greater+world#nav-subnav" target="_blank">Amazon</a> (paperback coming in August).</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-89201997527847458012016-07-16T11:47:00.001-07:002016-07-31T03:13:28.991-07:00Physical Writing: Getting Into Character<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCjCjqNNXplevrRveuHO9HGlL2rQYPQYMOAqIwn_KT-Tx3LM8UseMZ1ntAPBQS4AS98vv22LOLaAfmjkkEjNRJvK3NaI7kwzzY-NI04aM0rnU7D2sr3gAjdHFufiSLNQtgHmqIgJVl1dc/s1600/IMG_7541.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCjCjqNNXplevrRveuHO9HGlL2rQYPQYMOAqIwn_KT-Tx3LM8UseMZ1ntAPBQS4AS98vv22LOLaAfmjkkEjNRJvK3NaI7kwzzY-NI04aM0rnU7D2sr3gAjdHFufiSLNQtgHmqIgJVl1dc/s640/IMG_7541.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Physical theater? No, I'm talking about physical <i>writing.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></i>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">One of the most abstract, difficult elements of good writing is cleaning up the narrative's point of view (POV). That was a concept that I had a hard time getting my mind wrapped around. Now that I get it, I spot this weakness in other books that I read too.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">What does it actually mean?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Take this example:</span><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>The stray cat walked carefully around the corner of the church which was commissioned by King Henry in the 11th century. In the front of the church, the cat encountered a cheerful goat which was bleating with glee. The cat, unfamiliar with such a large creature, rounded its back and hissed. Upon hearing the car's threatening call, the goat became suspicious and looked silently at the cat.</i></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ok. Besides that I've dived into an impossible scenario with a cat and a goat, here are the problems with the paragraph's POV:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">1. Who is telling us that the church was built in the 11th century? What entity knows this information?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">2. We are feeling the cat's caution and fear.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">3. But we are also feeling the goat's glee and surprise at seeing the cat.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">4. We haven't chosen one POV.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">5. We don't feel invested in any one character.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Let's try again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"I have never been here before," thought the tabby on the fourth day of his travels. </i></span></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>He was walking along the massive sandstone wall of the town's structure. He was thirsty. His front left paw was still aching from the skirmish he'd had with a hound in Rotenburg the evening before. From around the corner, he could hear the rippling of water, perhaps from a stone fountain. Water! </i></span></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Suddenly, he heard an animal's shrill grunt coming from around same the corner.</i></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"A strange animal in a strange town!" the tabby thought. "I must be careful." He stared for a moment at his injured paw. "Yet I am in desperate need of something to drink."</i></span></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>He peered around the corner.</i></span></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"OH!" he exclaimed. He felt his back tensing, all his fur standing on end. </i></span></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>The noisy creature had long legs, wiry hair, and thick spiraling horns. And it was standing between the tabby and the stone water fountain. </i></span></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="color: #666666; font-size: large;">"Never have I seen such a frightening monster!" The cat took a deep breath and let out a long, penetrating hiss.</span></i></span></blockquote>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="color: #666666; font-size: large;">The creature at the fountain fell silent and blinked.</span></i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I know that's no masterpiece right there, but we've addressed the issues:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">1. Leave out the info about the church. What we want to get across instead is the <i>atmosphere</i> that the 11th century church brings: a stone wall, a trickling fountain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">2. Obviously, I chose the cat's POV.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">3. Therefore, we had to leave out the information about the goat's feelings. But keep the outer description of the goat's behavior, that which the cat could observe.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">4. I went gung-ho with the cat's inner experience and upped the stakes by adding some urgency: He's tired and thirsty and was injured in a fight last night.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have just added drama into a scene involving a cat and a goat. So I think you can do it between two human beings.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But how do you do this? You have to FEEL it. It's a whole-body experience.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">In fact, for me it is such a physical sensation that I take the lesson from theater: While you are writing, you have to stay in character, just like an actor on stage does. After I have determined the POV, I use my imagination to go into that character's body, forming the back-story to make real emotions, reactions, modus operandi, and voice. </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And just like an actor on stage, you have to stay in character as you are writing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Many actors and theater hobbyists also know that to get your point across to the big audience, you have to exaggerate (without making a caricature, oh ha ha). My rule is that if the reader were to open my book to a random page, she should be able to tell who's talking simply from reading their dialogue. No dialogue attribution, descriptive paragraphs. In other words, each character <i>has his own voice.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">(I just stumbled upon </span><a href="http://www.sunandachatterjee.com/authors-blawg/choosing-a-point-of-view-for-a-scene-pov" style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;" target="_blank">Sunanda Chatterjee's brilliant post</a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> on the same subject. She gives fantastic examples.)</span></span><br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-49277177759554530902016-07-01T01:39:00.000-07:002016-07-31T03:14:04.646-07:00On being a reluctant citizen of the Gritlands<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUmglorDXc3j32kACK-NieKrN1wZbxOFQj04jIEessMM93ThTOcjXheN5ok-5TWOos8Q560EojRQ6pHlDV_Np7kzRF8S4SZY5wKk1CkVqRhIJ3wwjJU7udtV-enAliG0y6vXF3gX3kNAQ/s1600/DSCN5296.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUmglorDXc3j32kACK-NieKrN1wZbxOFQj04jIEessMM93ThTOcjXheN5ok-5TWOos8Q560EojRQ6pHlDV_Np7kzRF8S4SZY5wKk1CkVqRhIJ3wwjJU7udtV-enAliG0y6vXF3gX3kNAQ/s640/DSCN5296.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"What does it mean to be an artist?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">If there was ever a prelude to a pretentious conversation, that's it. I despise that tattered cliche of a question, "What does it mean to be an artist?" I never <i>ever</i> thought I'd opine about it myself. Yet here I am.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I learned one winter evening what it means to be an artist. But not in the sense of the "artist" wearing a black turtleneck and beret, scribbling in a Moleskin notebook while sipping a cappuccino in Soho. I mean "artist" as a completely normal person in jeans and a grey sweater, having cheap Thai dinner one night with a dear close friend who asked me, "How have you been?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I answered, "Depressed."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Tell me about it, dear," she said.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And then I discovered what it means to be an artist.</span><br />
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It was winter of 2010. I wasn't a mom yet. I had been working overtime all year in San Francisco. Mornings and evenings were bookended with a 45-minute BART commute. After hours and early mornings, I was helping relatives with childcare duties. At the end of the day, I could only sleep.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Wasn't I supposed to be writing a book?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Oh, right. But I didn't have the time! Not for a single creative thought, not for a doodle, not for a bad haiku about the weirdos on BART. Despite having the perfect job (or two), despite the delicious feeling of watching the numbers in my bank account increase, despite being back in my home town of San Francisco with blue skies, strong coffee, and organic lunch breaks at the Ferry Building, I felt dead inside. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And I realized something. <i>An artist has to be creating.</i> Pretty mundane, huh? But it's really what separates us from non-artists. We cannot feel okay if we're not creating. No pep talk will pull us out of the deadness if we're not creating. We can't feel grateful for all the perfect things in our lives if we're not creating. It's like telling a plant to be grateful for the soil when it's lacking sunlight.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hence it's a burden to be an artist. The non-artist - who might be your parents, co-workers, or even friends - don't understand this and so we hear things like, "What are you complaining about?" "Why are you wasting time on that book of poetry?" "You spent how much on a writer's conference?!"</span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"> And the ubiquitous if unspoken, "</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And </span><i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">how</i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> d</span></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">o you intend to earn money with that?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Well, sorry. I wish I didn't have this ingrained need to be creative. Because think of all the MONEY I'd save! And time! I could be working a <i>real</i> cubicle job if I weren't pursuing my passions! Wow!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But in all seriousness, the Artist is envious. Oh, how I wish I could be happy working in a dental office, going for drinks with friends in the evening, cleaning my apartment on weekends, and going back to work on Monday. You know, mediocrity. Sadly, that just doesn't work for me. I have tried.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Instead, my mind is cluttered with ideas, ideas, ideas. And feelings, and stories, colors, images, music. With no outlet, my skin and my blood vessels clog up with creative detritus and I look dull and depressed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">The burden of the artist is therefore three-fold. The artist must work not only to pay living expenses (and possibly children), but to pay for creative projects. And along with the extra time required to earn that money, the artist has to find enough time to actually <i>be</i> an artist, in the evenings, on weekends.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Artists don't become a non-artists when they aren't allowed to be creative, they become depressed. Which is why so many artists I know prefer to live in sub-standard conditions to preserve their daily creative time, or squeeze the extra minutes out of each day to whittle away at their projects, no matter how exhausted they are after the kids have gone to bed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I wish it could be another way. But it isn't. It means that like it or not, I have to live in a place of grit, hard work, perseverance. I'm a reluctant citizen of the Gritlands.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-56225675601903694932016-06-25T11:36:00.001-07:002016-07-31T03:54:52.924-07:00Between hard work and surrender<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNY3s2G_m57KBes8iI0LpYQ60LeLMAxXXWNRm3Yr5Ip7obRPs0l3E_prDhZWjIGL8WCd_p0TdaUk31yjEEWaxyr_Fs83Nf2_5cVYsbJu-KlyY4CYbJ9sWMLkU5hvuVx01w_PI007nt2eM/s1600/Tita-Pasang-flying-front-color.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNY3s2G_m57KBes8iI0LpYQ60LeLMAxXXWNRm3Yr5Ip7obRPs0l3E_prDhZWjIGL8WCd_p0TdaUk31yjEEWaxyr_Fs83Nf2_5cVYsbJu-KlyY4CYbJ9sWMLkU5hvuVx01w_PI007nt2eM/s640/Tita-Pasang-flying-front-color.png" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Sketch of Tita Pasang flying from the book trailer to <br /><i>Trixi Pudong and the Greater World.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have a personal philosophy about work. I believe in <i>grit</i>, defined in Webster's as "firmness of mind and spirit: unyielding courage in the face of hardship or danger." When you're an artist, the hardship or danger is the lack of motivation or inspiration. Or the loss of your will to go on in the face of harsh criticism.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I use grit to overcome these feelings. But what exactly does grit <i>feel</i> like? Let me share my experience with you. It might be different from what you feel.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I come from a driven and inspired family. My father has been a passionate scientist all his life, landing his first "job" as professor at the University of California in Berkeley when he was just in his mid 30s. My mother is a gritty person, she is generally extreme in all things she does. Growing up in a household like this, my sister and I learned to never feel okay relaxing and splashing in the swimming pool in the summer <i>unless </i>all the work was done. We grew up with inner voices hounding us that we were being lazy and that there was so much work to get done.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It wasn't healthy. In fact, I had to go through some therapy to get rid of these voices. It wasn't until I was 23 years old, living in Helsinki ⎯ thousands of miles away from either parent ⎯ that I realized that I could wake up in the morning in total peace and relaxation, before I had gotten anything done.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZvXmqzWQFVGwEPzr-eQa0zDyyZpdZpsAq9yKCm17FLLud-5y4PlMHWkwIcZ0-3jP3kbf5q5WhW4v-LcGwhsXRwzeYI3SHZG68jPZVU-iTXi9PyCx9oV_5uSh-UJz6SMi4GzlJPuPd2Ms/s1600/Mr+Prowd1+and+Ahn+Na.tif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZvXmqzWQFVGwEPzr-eQa0zDyyZpdZpsAq9yKCm17FLLud-5y4PlMHWkwIcZ0-3jP3kbf5q5WhW4v-LcGwhsXRwzeYI3SHZG68jPZVU-iTXi9PyCx9oV_5uSh-UJz6SMi4GzlJPuPd2Ms/s640/Mr+Prowd1+and+Ahn+Na.tif" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: small;">Sketches of Mr. Prowd and Ahn Na from the book trailer to <br /><i>Trixi Pudong and the Greater World.</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Being "healed" from these slave-driving inner voices, however, did not make me a lazy person. No, by then I had made it too much a habit to enjoy the feeling of achievement, and the feeling of connection with others that I got from getting stuff done. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And having pushed, whipped, and gritted myself through a double-degree program in music and science <i>plus</i> a side of pre-med, I saw my limits up close while preparing my senior recital while studying for the MCAT and applying for a Fulbright, which I won and used as my free ticket to re-boot my life in Europe. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">You know you're pushing yourself to your limits when you ask yourself "Why am I doing this?" for a long time. Because that tells you that you've gone beyond your comfort zone and are plugging away on pure good faith that something just has to come out of it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">You know you've pushed yourself when you know what a coffee hangover feels like: leg cramps, headache, and dehydration ⎯ but all without the partying.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">You know you've gritted through the hard parts when you look back at your progress from one year ago and remember how scared, humiliated, and ashamed you felt when people gave you feedback or criticism of your work, you wanted to cry and throw it all away... <i>yet you kept going</i>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">See how that feels?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">At the same time, there is the danger of exhaustion. And the danger of becoming one of those hyperactive people who WRITE ALL THEIR EMAILS IN CAPITAL LETTERS, relentlessly self-promote, and fail to take reflective breaks. These states of mind -- exhaustion and indiscriminate action -- produce poor quality work because in these states, you've lost track of your internal compass.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">That's why we have to turn to the lesser known side of the Grit process: Surrender. As in turning off your mind at night when you just can't work anymore, not feeling frustrated when you can't work because of kids or your day job, and even planning time in your project to <i>let go</i> and <i>surrender</i> the process to a greater power.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">In letting go, you let the faster part of your brain take over and solve the problems that your slow brain can't chew through. Like a dog who catches a frisbee mid-air without thinking about it, your brain has the capacity to solve stubborn problems like writer's block if you just let it stop thinking. I find letting go to be just as important as pushing myself to consciously get work done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">So that's my recipe for getting difficult things done:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Push yourself. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Work as hard as you can.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">And surrender.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-18754672958625780552016-06-15T11:42:00.000-07:002016-07-31T03:55:09.906-07:00On doing everything myself<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS766IYSP5VYrZ3zLSnb_LlbBGVDrOaGkaS_ClTyjgrBr02ZFhAON1e1h9hSYcB9whxt4Svvr6jx6YjIeckO0bvL-wq7TS5uLIjkhbfyT-gPxrzvRJ49vAdFCWYMBmPQS23GvN0VKNATc/s1600/Tita+Pasang+pencil+sketch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS766IYSP5VYrZ3zLSnb_LlbBGVDrOaGkaS_ClTyjgrBr02ZFhAON1e1h9hSYcB9whxt4Svvr6jx6YjIeckO0bvL-wq7TS5uLIjkhbfyT-gPxrzvRJ49vAdFCWYMBmPQS23GvN0VKNATc/s640/Tita+Pasang+pencil+sketch.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Don't try this at home. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I strongly recommend that you hire professionals for aspects of your book project that you're not trained to do. Like cover design, illustrations, and video trailer. There are people better qualified than yourself who deserve to be paid for a job well done.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But wait... Didn't I just do everything myself? </span><br />
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Oh, geez, sorry... I did. Not only did I write my book, but I designed my own cover, made my own websites and blogs, and most precariously, I produced and illustrated my book's video trailer. Yikes!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But this is why.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'm a MOM. It might seem counterintuitive, and yes a couple of friends said, "Why don't you hire someone to do this work for you?" But wait. The fact is, I am a proponent of supporting freelance artists and have always gone out of my way to hire creative people and pay them a fat wage. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">For my book trailer, I even contacted several illustrators and animators for, but guess what? They all bailed on me someway. (I'm putting it nicely). A couple laughed as soon as they heard the term "book trailer" and were eager to hang up. Another few were polite but just flakey to the point of unviability. Yet others showed interest but I could feel that collaboration was doomed because they couldn't get their mind wrapped around the concept of a book trailer. I had a terrible gut feeling. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Because getting an excellent collaborative work done requires lots of communication, and did I mention that I'm a MOM? And I'm living in rural Bavaria, where creative professionals are certainly <i>not </i>located. If there's one thing that a baby won't let you do, it's make a phone call. Or skype in peace and quiet. So, without enough babysitting help to be able to communicate my ideas to artists, I knew that any collaboration would not only be expensive, but simply <i>not good.</i> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">So, even though I had zero experience in drawing, my gut feeling was greatly relieved when I decided to do my entire trailer myself. I had no idea how much work it was going to be, but at least I had total flexibility to carve away at it in my own time, when baby napped, which was a different time and duration every day. And I was fascinated by the process of figuring out how to make my characters pop out with expression.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Working on a graphic project also gave me a creative outlet that I couldn't have as a writer with a small child. Good writing requires headspace, lots of it. You need lots of quiet time to make sure that several pages flow together. But with a baby? Haha, nope. Graphic work, however, is possible. Because instead of reading through 5 pages of text, you literally get the whole picture in one glance. Moving a pixel here or there, adjusting a color, or changing a character's expression can be done 10 minutes at a time.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Wanna know how much I sucked at drawing just last year? Watch this trailer sketch:</span></span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/uJsJkFWTaCg/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/uJsJkFWTaCg?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">But with enough mental planning, I managed to put together some graphics myself that looked more professional:</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgECrGdWLb-Q6GAonYeuFwXNfFcenKi9JbJP-nPBGazf9cM2ziXUuMkLBD9OP28gunchM1d8-H86hY_jZdY5y4QLwyJ2hnUdZKXU7JTdUEz3MpOLW9lpuDXVD26LmMscF9NXwgHsOBnwKE/s1600/City-Trip-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgECrGdWLb-Q6GAonYeuFwXNfFcenKi9JbJP-nPBGazf9cM2ziXUuMkLBD9OP28gunchM1d8-H86hY_jZdY5y4QLwyJ2hnUdZKXU7JTdUEz3MpOLW9lpuDXVD26LmMscF9NXwgHsOBnwKE/s640/City-Trip-1.png" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7VOBgfW8BI0hPua5AGXtdeTgxOM5pkPrzJzavU7-f5kH51-ostq4dV6v9AQW_WpMVXRXDWPbG9MmfI7Rr6vBOCPCMnGTcSB9L59aRbyWlszQ2kIJvQSo1RLoUSOACI-ZtC6V9wrTg_ok/s1600/Little-Two-Deck-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7VOBgfW8BI0hPua5AGXtdeTgxOM5pkPrzJzavU7-f5kH51-ostq4dV6v9AQW_WpMVXRXDWPbG9MmfI7Rr6vBOCPCMnGTcSB9L59aRbyWlszQ2kIJvQSo1RLoUSOACI-ZtC6V9wrTg_ok/s640/Little-Two-Deck-1.png" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I used two programs: Adobe Illustrator and Autodesk Sketchbook. And I used a Wacom tablet.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">In all, with mother-in-law coming to babysit on 2 weekends per month, it took me about one half year to complete this. With no child, I could have finished much sooner. But anyway, here's the final result. Feel free to share it, thanks!</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/bc9JacGJxq4?rel=0" width="560"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-48870262324017727992015-05-26T02:08:00.000-07:002016-06-26T02:09:40.693-07:00The American Dream of not being here<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXCfjA2dSuUXzUg-hWigGO7PxKKXV2AczCkXhU89TbQWeCsYne4IBp4ZmLLDtL7j7a9o-iOCoNDVTlk8yqzj79rGA015BpEzR8KsVz3EhPqmOFt1Gw_FyegbIv-zdyNOCXZSQwG2P1lP8/s1600/IMG_4655.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXCfjA2dSuUXzUg-hWigGO7PxKKXV2AczCkXhU89TbQWeCsYne4IBp4ZmLLDtL7j7a9o-iOCoNDVTlk8yqzj79rGA015BpEzR8KsVz3EhPqmOFt1Gw_FyegbIv-zdyNOCXZSQwG2P1lP8/s640/IMG_4655.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In the next couple of years, my husband and I will have to decide whether to move to America or stay in Germany. If we move to America, we'd be in Berkeley, CA, where my family has its roots. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />But, even though Northern California ranks as one of the most desirable places in the United States, I have my hesitations. Because of one thing that I, as an American, just can't get over: America is ugly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />I don't mean the landscape; the amber waves of geographical eye candy turn every tourist into a hobby photographer. I don't mean the people, either. I mean that daily life in America is ugly, the drabness that we face because the little oases of architectural and civic beauty are choked off by parking lots and freeways. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br />Take Berkeley, for instance. The legendary university town actually has a bayshore waterfront that boasts a million-dollar view of San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge. If any European city were so blessed with this geography, without a doubt that waterfront would have been built into an appealing esplanade with cafes, boutiques, and tree-lined parks for the enjoyment of life. But we Americans? No. We built I-80 with 5 lanes of traffic in each direction. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl4ogoTrVnv74WegB_2njaBsib_7zfqp0Sp4D96M-WRnksqTbp2_G192aKqSgYkttzZeKprfJKzncGirHkb38Oz7HkQtHEjg1nDavHCY8-ShQ-vtRhQ_48HUw3QvYNcVufQF3b9HRH9w0/s1600/I-80_Eastshore_Fwy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="459" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl4ogoTrVnv74WegB_2njaBsib_7zfqp0Sp4D96M-WRnksqTbp2_G192aKqSgYkttzZeKprfJKzncGirHkb38Oz7HkQtHEjg1nDavHCY8-ShQ-vtRhQ_48HUw3QvYNcVufQF3b9HRH9w0/s640/I-80_Eastshore_Fwy.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I-80 Eastshore Freeway/</span></span><span style="text-align: left;">Minesweeper, wikimedia commons.</span></span></div>
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">America has the potential to evolve quickly with its "Why not?" attitude. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But what doesn't change quickly are the car-centered city layouts and suburban sprawl that lock Americans into miles of <a href="http://healthland.time.com/2011/06/07/qa-why-commuting-sucks-the-life-out-of-you/" target="_blank">unhappiness</a>, high municipal costs, and unsustainability. Americans strap themselves into their cars every morning, alone with their travel mugs and the radio station; they sit in traffic and dream of what they're going to do once they graduate from the rat race.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">America is a place of dreams. But I realized that America a place of dreams because the vast swaths of asphalt make you not want to be where you are. You dream of being somewhere else. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The juxtaposition of quik-dry cement in a backdrop of stunning landscape infuses the air with the message, "Dreams come true, over there." And that, in a twisted way, is the American beauty. The beauty of longing, of being in love with a point of time in the future, the beauty of wishing you were "over there".</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSfYw8srgfn3OlA3C3rmzVTwLNYUEVe0lGcLBeP4HlT9zNvIUALYZ7iBCO_M6Dwm1R93dKPNA2FuUc0YJku4P2QKLCbuFQZfSgbqOkryQCzaUU4ULeUhO1yHRykJDanxDlGf0_YLj9WdI/s1600/IMG_5098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSfYw8srgfn3OlA3C3rmzVTwLNYUEVe0lGcLBeP4HlT9zNvIUALYZ7iBCO_M6Dwm1R93dKPNA2FuUc0YJku4P2QKLCbuFQZfSgbqOkryQCzaUU4ULeUhO1yHRykJDanxDlGf0_YLj9WdI/s640/IMG_5098.JPG" width="640" /></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In America, the automobile is a box of dreams on wheels. Its occupants enjoy a quiet, air-conditioned leather interior with a state-of-the-art sound system and UV-filtering glass. Meanwhile, the car itself is either cruising down a dead zone of concrete and strip malls that advertise more dreams, or it's sitting bumper-to-bumper in an endless quilt of other out-gassing vehicles, environmentally and optically toxic for our children and other living creatures, and, well, ourselves too.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We're also pushed away from the present moment by the capitalism which has governed so long that the soil exudes profit. And "profit" in itself connotes: Later, not now. Buy on the cheap, sell for a profit, later. Everywhere we look, there's no escape from the signs of profit, later: cheap slapped-together houses, one-size-fits-all neighborhoods where all the same chain businesses have set up shop, anonymous big-box stores surrounded by deserts of parking lot that remind us that corporations are saving money so they can turn a profit, later. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLZpXup2iXijmLkbAmHKl4rGr_VQfT3mYnw__JH1lL0SeQuifWIKaYB3EWBS7o34lMjr2k-mjo0_vrRfU2nqoifVr7bFk-_34wsPrtALzEzaUJUrbzqfiX3CXFPLSYWx2MDNlOOTvWrZc/s1600/IMG_5096.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLZpXup2iXijmLkbAmHKl4rGr_VQfT3mYnw__JH1lL0SeQuifWIKaYB3EWBS7o34lMjr2k-mjo0_vrRfU2nqoifVr7bFk-_34wsPrtALzEzaUJUrbzqfiX3CXFPLSYWx2MDNlOOTvWrZc/s640/IMG_5096.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A place of dreams is exciting when you're young. Anything is possible. You can become whatever you want to be. You can get rich. But for others, it's not that fun. Like for those who don't have time to dream any more, to drive in their cars, to wait for profits to roll in, later. They are the elderly who are isolated in their suburban homes until they become American nursing home residents, 60% of which have </span><a href="http://www.therubins.com/homes/stathome.htm" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank">no visitors</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">. </span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A place of dreams also isn't that fun for people who need the present to function <i>now</i>, not later. Like parents who are crushed for time and resources to enjoy their kids who are growing up now, fast. The "village" that should be raising the children has been squashed, ironically, by one American Dream, the dream of big houses and big cars, and by big highways, big gas prices, and big commutes that eat away at the time that parents should spend with their children. And these children, well, they're growing up in cities so dominated by cars that they won't know any other way.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFzSPMEDotzvSurtD-iG9XRumB8zNJvvmNitiULxqSkDNXcp0yoFVi3sPgMJ_EIZj7JkDJtZtiQMDPAI1i_KaSRqIRw7ty2z4UIHBsrzlJlaKDKO7fArPdirVaMl2VDI29XMZC1zxjAZw/s1600/IMG_3795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFzSPMEDotzvSurtD-iG9XRumB8zNJvvmNitiULxqSkDNXcp0yoFVi3sPgMJ_EIZj7JkDJtZtiQMDPAI1i_KaSRqIRw7ty2z4UIHBsrzlJlaKDKO7fArPdirVaMl2VDI29XMZC1zxjAZw/s640/IMG_3795.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I've loathed cars since I myself was a kid of the 70s, pale-faced and nauseous as I sat trapped in my mother's Buick, stuck in stop-and-go traffic in California. I had my dreams, too. As a kid, I dreamt of walking to my friends' houses to play. I dreamt that I lived in a place where I might see other kids, just so, on a sidewalk, in a playground, in a town. I dreamt that I didn't have to spend half my childhood staring through a car window at lifeless slabs of concrete, weeds, graffiti, and pigeon poop beneath freeway overpasses. I wished my mother had a tight-knit community around her so she wouldn't let out all her frustrations on me when I failed to fulfill <i>her</i> dreams. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">There was no conspiracy or political basis to this. I dreamt of a healthier city on my own, as a kid, not because of a United Nations sustainability <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agenda_21" target="_blank">agenda</a> that some <a href="http://resistagenda21.com/agenda-21/" target="_blank">claim</a> is a secret plan to mandate communal living and take away our American freedoms. As a young person, my dreams of a car-free community were <i>all about freedom</i>: the freedom to get around without having to pay for a car, gas, insurance, and parking; the freedom to connect to anyone I wanted without having to consider commute times and expenses; the freedom to start making my own decisions about when to be where I wanted; the freedom to simply use my body to walk – as it was made to do – without the dangers of traffic, pollution, and crime that festers in barren city streets made for motorized vehicles. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgTzAAvNuzX3e-pUzeD9CDhWuV1JgSyWzXvUWNovJHkYTUX_SKVNyLCDSKQqqW_Zu5un1zCetSxmnfxlMhEAZ498TLQGYWJmIwvwzxXMnzQdmoyfETRJepc5W_zbcXKwVXuy7ZR090AfQ/s1600/DSCN6819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgTzAAvNuzX3e-pUzeD9CDhWuV1JgSyWzXvUWNovJHkYTUX_SKVNyLCDSKQqqW_Zu5un1zCetSxmnfxlMhEAZ498TLQGYWJmIwvwzxXMnzQdmoyfETRJepc5W_zbcXKwVXuy7ZR090AfQ/s640/DSCN6819.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The idea of hating one's own country makes no sense to me. I certainly don't hate America; I even go great lengths to explain what a miracle the United States are. But in the pursuit of my own happiness, after I graduated from college, I left America to live in countries where I didn't need a car. I felt that in America, there was no more space for my dreams; someone had already been there before me and paved over my dreams before I was born. He with the cement mixer got his dream, and it will be a very long time before those freeways and sprawling developments <a href="http://www.npr.org/2014/09/10/347132924/heres-whats-becoming-of-americas-dead-shopping-malls" target="_blank">give way</a> to the human need for an aesthetic environment that doesn't require burning fossil fuels for daily life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">If it's next year or in five years, I will be back in America with my daughter. She's an American citizen, too, and she is entitled to her dreams and pursuit of happiness. I wish for her and all other young Americans that they can grow up in a place of civic beauty. This wish inspired me for years to make sure that my child, who is also an EU citizen, be born and have the right to live in an affordable, healthy city like the German <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bamberg" target="_blank">town</a> where we live. I wanted her to know from the start that she is on this earth to walk, to breathe clean air, to take her time in a beautiful environment, to see people, and to have lots of time to talk to her friends. Now, not later.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">That remains my dream for America: a beautiful now.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUoMAoFdWhCkZhe9v6imw4yPgLhqP1afgw1ZUGhTCg9HLFF1BRrZtSvToo7CYMrezp-aCp_5hBOsWN6QYFwBwlyyITlMuWspsKs4_Rr28qpPXWCu7C8zOX9eVYwhLdnwlnsriKWflZJDM/s1600/IMG_5101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUoMAoFdWhCkZhe9v6imw4yPgLhqP1afgw1ZUGhTCg9HLFF1BRrZtSvToo7CYMrezp-aCp_5hBOsWN6QYFwBwlyyITlMuWspsKs4_Rr28qpPXWCu7C8zOX9eVYwhLdnwlnsriKWflZJDM/s640/IMG_5101.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Photographs by Audrey Mei and Mindsweeper/wikimedia commons.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Read articles on urban planning at <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/author/the-atlantic-cities/" target="_blank">The Atlantic Cities</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Related posts:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.buddhamuffinblog.com/2015/02/the-journey-to-minimal-baby.html">The Journey To Minimal Baby</a></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-5654953108453672022015-05-15T02:11:00.000-07:002016-06-26T04:45:55.958-07:00The Story Addiction<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRRWEhCB7aqc2nVnhW0kGbdyhUA1jVTD9KlpJWqaQa6713z_AabxoqQymb1Wg7ky1w4h6Ny5uWMd44KTpXjhiIBDb2jEclP5yWHkiqWlt2Y-guExlIl0RP8RU5DGyKhzcXQSbexFy_LAc/s1600/The+Story+Addiction.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRRWEhCB7aqc2nVnhW0kGbdyhUA1jVTD9KlpJWqaQa6713z_AabxoqQymb1Wg7ky1w4h6Ny5uWMd44KTpXjhiIBDb2jEclP5yWHkiqWlt2Y-guExlIl0RP8RU5DGyKhzcXQSbexFy_LAc/s640/The+Story+Addiction.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Story is a drug.</b> We crave it, we <a href="http://www.cinemablend.com/television/Unsurprising-Netflix-Survey-Indicates-People-Like-Binge-Watch-TV-61045.html" target="_blank">binge</a> on it, we go through <a href="http://newsfeed.time.com/2013/09/29/how-to-cure-your-breaking-bad-withdrawal-symptoms/" target="_blank">withdrawal</a>. We get our fix and are <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=TV+Show+Hangover" target="_blank">hungover</a> from it for days. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Every society in history of mankind has its drugs. Every society also has its stories. These days, Americans spend more on story than they do on narcotics. Read these facts about story and you'll realize that writers and storytellers are actually dealing the most ubiquitous drug there is.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>We have a social need for story. </b> Stories have always been used to transmit information in entertaining packages, even if the accuracy of the information itself was sacrificed for entertainment value. Values and morals are also transmitted through story.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>We have a neurological need for stories.</b> <a href="https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/the-storytelling-animal/201205/fiction-addiction" target="_blank">Children use story, dream, and play</a> to build neural pathways that better prepare them for life.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> And at every age, by giving the audience an emotional test-run of situations they have not yet experienced themselves, </span><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/21/opinion/sunday/how-writing-transforms-us.html?_r=0" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;" target="_blank">stories help us build empathy</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">. The more fiction we consume, the more empathic and socialized we become. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Our brains react to a good story like they're on drugs. </b>Researcher Paul Zak and his team have found oxytocin – the love, bonding, and trust hormone – spikes in our brains when we hear a good story. Oxytocin is also known to flood the brain when people take <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MDMA" target="_blank">MDMA</a>, a.k.a. ecstasy, giving them the feeling of closeness with others. When a story introduces a character that we care about, we get the same drug-like feeling of connection, without the side effects. And when the story's suspense builds, our adrenaline flows and our inner thrill-seekers get their fix.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Story can be used.</b> Rewrite the story of your life and you can <a href="http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2015/01/19/writing-your-way-to-happiness/?_r=0" target="_blank">improve</a> your grades, your health, your marital happiness, your mood, and your self-confidence. And you are more likely to do something in the future if you <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2007/05/22/health/psychology/22narr.html?pagewanted=print" target="_blank">envision yourself doing it in the third person</a> compared to imagining it in the first person. Meanwhile, some medical schools have recognized the power of story to heal trauma and have established departments of "<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/leila-levinson/ptsd-veterans-writing_b_1078971.html?" target="_blank">narrative medicine</a>".</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Story can be abused.</b> As more research uncovers the potency of story, everyone from Wall Street corporations to US Defense are researching ways to exploit story. Companies use story to get <a href="http://www.entrepreneur.com/article/241725" target="_blank">potential customers to feel sympathy</a> and identify with their products. The US military's Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (Darpa) is funding studies to understand not only how story can entice people into becoming terrorists, but also how story can be used to generate successful <a href="http://www.wired.com/2011/10/darpa-science-propaganda/" target="_blank">propaganda</a>.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>Story has affected someone you know.</b> Even yourself. We are constantly creating and editing the narratives of our lives to make sense of the world. Story holds us together, and story can tear us apart. Because life unfortunately doesn't come with its own dramatic arc, we create our own stories and feed off the suspense from these stories that we tell ourselves. Some of us even fixate on a narrative and attempt to live by it, but whether it's a story of the femme fatale, the warrior, the universal mother, or the Casanova, living by a story is doomed because, by design, the dramatic arc comes to an end. And once the thrilling affair has crashed or the exotic summer adventure is over, we're faced with the dull progress bar of our ordinary lives.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And then it's time for a new story. Handle with care.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">THE END.</span></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-7048605135824602882015-05-07T02:14:00.000-07:002016-06-26T02:15:15.825-07:00Om Chemo: When my yoga teacher got cancer<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">image: audrey mei</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #343434; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 21px;"><i>This post was originally published in <a href="http://www.elephantjournal.com/2012/10/om-chemo-my-teachers-cancer-helps-me-let-go-audrey-mei/">elephant journal </a>on October 12, 2012.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="line-height: 21px;">Back in the aughts, I was an aspiring yogini in San Francisco. But it was a commitment that came with a snag: I couldn't stand pretentious yoga teachers. I was raised in an Asian Buddhist home, hence my skin prickled whenever a 20-something yoga teacher lectured spiritual blah-blah. How much could one know about the </span><span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">Dharma</span><span style="line-height: 21px;"> </span><span style="line-height: 21px;">after a one-year training? Or even three years? All snarkiness aside, these young teachers in 2002, I thought, might have been Jazzercize instructors in 1982.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But then I found Karl, an advanced Iyengar teacher. </span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He was forty years fresh, tall and thin, wore glasses and possessed an endearing geek mystique that was juxtaposed with a head full of rock-star curls. But most important was the humility he showed to his Iyengar yoga lineage.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The purist in me was smitten. I delved into the practice, bought the books, learned my forward bends and philosophized about the <span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">sutras</span>. I attended Karl’s classes and basked in the low-key atmosphere: he didn’t pretend to “love” everyone, he never faked a smile and he never made a brand out of himself. He just wanted to teach as perfectly as he could. Alongside <span style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;">asana</span> practice, we discussed meditation, perception, compassion and the self. Yet, despite his being our teacher, there was never any feeling that Karl was better than any of us. His teaching was his service to us, in service of yoga.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #444444;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444;">Chatting after class one day, I told Karl that I was a cellist. He lit up like a kid and suggested we get together to play. He’d been studying North Indian singing and had bought a harmonium. In the Hindustani musical tradition, a music student moves in with a master, who is also a spiritual guru, to share meals and a household while learning the age-old, unnotated tradition. The learning happens hour by hour, year after year.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Limited by our day jobs and nowhere close to moving in with a musical guru, Karl’s and my ambitions were rather hopeless. But we persisted, lugging our instruments up and down the streets of San Francisco to play and perform. Whenever Karl sat down at his harmonium, he exuded an unmistakable boyishness that carried me along despite the old Russian-school voice in my head scolding me for playing off score.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">This was my personal project: yogic immersion—body, mind and cello.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Then, in 2006, as my itchy feet dictated, I moved to Berlin to live as a bohemian writer. As pure as had been my dedication to yoga in San Francisco, just as absolute was my detour into the artist’s life—nicotine, alcohol and three-day all-nighters that left my melatonin stores in shambles. Eccentric artist friends enriched my writing and exhausted my adrenal glands. By 2010, my lungs felt like wooden crates, my left ovary burned and my bank account groaned with hunger. I moved back to San Francisco to recover, physically and financially.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">During my first nights back in San Francisco, I stayed awake obsessing about my abdominal pain (scar tissue? cysts? tumors?) and reflecting on the sorry, broke life I would leave behind. On a Monday morning, I started making appointments to have every complaint examined. One by one, doctors wrote my symptoms off as benign. Then, a month after my return to San Francisco, I received an email that changed everything. It was titled: “Please pray. Karl is very ill.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Karl had cancer, not me.</i></span></h4>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I first visited him at a friend’s house after his initial round of high-dose chemotherapy. He came out of the bedroom in a bathrobe and a knit cap that kept his bald head warm; he was thin, like a bird who had fallen out of a tree.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Hi, baby,” was all I could say. No hugs were allowed; hand disinfectant was required. The treatment had destroyed his immune system.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">He flopped onto the sofa in the winter garden. I took a seat on a stool at the kitchen counter and popped open my thermos of coffee.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“Wow,” he said. “I can smell that from here.” The barrage of medical toxins had heightened his sense of smell. Every strand of rock-star curl was gone. His peachy complexion had been replaced by a greyish chemo-tinge. But in his eyes I could see it was my same Karl, eager to chat and exchange ideas.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">“What do you think about this thing I’ve been working on?” he asked, flipping open his MacBook and showing me an online radio podcast site. “I can upload lectures on <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vedanta" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #ff3300; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">Vedanta</em></a> that people can listen to at any time. And here are Skype discussion groups that people can join from anywhere.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Indeed, his pure and excited wonderment was intact, only briefly interrupted by a wave of nausea; he assured me that I needn’t fetch a bowl. As we talked, I realized that, by moving his teaching into a virtual space, Karl had no intention of letting cancer hinder his passion for yoga.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Two years later, Karl’s lanky body has gone through two rounds of bone marrow transplants and high-dose chemo, as well as surgery to remove tumors around his kidneys.</span></h4>
<div apd-bannercontent="<script type='text/javascript'>var ctoZoneID = 198419;var ctoplacementid = '{apd-zoneid}';document.MAX_ct0 ='';var m3_u = (location.protocol=='https:'?'https://cas.criteo.com/delivery/ajs.php?':'http://cas.criteo.com/delivery/ajs.php?');var m3_r = Math.floor(Math.random()*99999999999);document.write ("<scr"+"ipt type='text/javascript' src='"+m3_u+"zoneid=" + ctoZoneID +"&amp;nodis=1"+'&amp;cb=' + m3_r +"&amp;loc=" + escape(window.location)+"&amp;ct0=" + escape(document.MAX_ct0)+"&amp;ctoplacementid=" + escape(ctoplacementid)+(document.charset ? '&amp;charset='+document.charset : (document.characterSet ? '&amp;charset='+document.characterSet : '')) +(document.referrer ? "&amp;referer=" + escape(document.referrer) : "") +(document.context ? "&context=" + escape(document.context) : "") +(document.mmm_fo ? "&amp;mmm_fo=1" : "") + "'></scr"+"ipt>");</script>" apd-shown="0" appendedad="true" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #343434; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The doctors’ prognoses are blurry at best: it has been a rickety emotional roller coaster with Karl alone in the front seat. He keeps a schedule of friends who help him run daily errands, go for walks and keep his spirits up. He maintains a light lecture schedule and is creating a video series on <em style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizelegibility;">Vedanta</em>. He even completed and published articles on religious beliefs and compassion. Teaching is always on his mind.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And his teaching is in our hearts. Because with Karl’s humble willingness to share his experience, there is another lesson we as his community have learned: It is life that teaches us.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">With Karl’s illness, we practice compassion by giving care, time and necessary money with no expectation of any particular result. Although we give by choice, our decision is also self-evident. We could never demand anything in return from Karl. We bite into the nourishing salad of giving, in and of itself.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">There have been uncountable lessons in letting go. Letting go of the way we thought things would be today (Karl cancelled our meeting last minute, feeling tired), this week (I made a mistake in a fundraising letter, oh well) and beyond (his treatments may stop working).</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And letting go, of course, of life itself. Not just because of the uncertainty of Karl’s life, but because of the uncertainty of each of our lives. Karl may seem perilously close to death right now, but as I leave his apartment to ride my bicycle without a helmet, I am a thousand times more likely to die today than he is. It is not about being gratuitously morbid, but accepting impermanence on this planet, for all of us. I savor this reality when I’m sitting with him in his kitchen. The subtext of our conversation is that we are sharing the rawness of the moment, aware of our own mortalities.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>“Can you be so present in this moment that you are aware</i><span style="background-color: transparent;"> </span><i>of the present moment?”</i></span></h4>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">He pours hot water for the tea. In the middle of a lively discussion about relationships, life and the way things are, another wave of fatigue sweeps over him. He stops talking to take a breath.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The young man squeezes his eyes shut.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I wipe away two tears.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">There is only this moment.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And I am grateful for my humble teacher.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Karl Erb passed away peacefully in his sleep on the morning of July 30, 2013.</span></i></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-51159080082566668562015-05-01T02:13:00.000-07:002016-06-26T02:13:27.740-07:00The strictly flakey Germans<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">photo: wikimedia commons/mathias degen. image: audrey mei</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"The person you are calling is temporarily unavailable."</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Again?! It's lunchtime, I'm in Berlin waiting outside a Himalayan restaurant for Mike. He's 20 minutes late and I can't reach him. Just as I start to leave, he appears on his bicycle in his usual attire of flowing flax pants and Egyptian shirt. Mike is a fire dancer and travels around Europe with friends, earning his daily bread (literally, as in food for one day) with street performing. Reaching him is hit or miss since the pre-paid credit on his phone averages zero if I'm not lending him money. His girlfriend is about to dump him because she can't imagine how he'd ever contribute to household finances. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The thing is, Mike is German. Now, I love living in Germany because things work: public transportation, the Autobahn, electricity, postal service, lost and found. German doors, windows, appliances and cars are glorious because they function so smoothly. They're German. Precise and efficient. But then there's Mike. How does he fit into this picture?</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The Germans have been the butt of endless jokes ("Sprocket" from Saturday Night Live) and offensive depictions (the villains of James Bond, Die Hard, etc.), but after living here for 17 years, I can say that there are the German stereotypes and there are the real-life German types. And for the most part, it's a good thing. I admire my friends here, they're honest, thorough, hard-working, and - surprise, surprise - they're hilarious. Germany isn't an easy place to live in; a German is born with a Teflon coating that protects him against the flames of Teutonic bureaucracy and paperwork that fries every other world citizen to a crisp. You know you've lived in Germany long enough when you meet friends for cocktails and chat for hours... about taxes and insurance. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But back to Mike. We're now sitting at the table and he enlightens me on the paradox of being a German flake. "You know why I'm like this?" he begins explaining his peripatetic artist life. "Because I don't want to be like my parents." Mike's father is an engineer, his mother is a teacher. Mike himself is highly intelligent, speaking six languages and able to keep up with the steepest academic discourse. "Like with my bills. I could pay them on time, sometimes," he squirms at the thought of being debt-free. "But then I'd feel like my parents. Doing everything right. They raised me really strictly, and I don't want to be like them. I'm a rebel."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So Mike is living a reactionary life. Aren't we all? It's an emotional response to our pasts that we all have in a knee-jerk way. I myself have streamlined my life as a reaction to my parents' post-war American consumer habits. But I find Mike's reactionism impressive in how he is so efficiently, precisely flakey. What happens, though, when this reactionism against German <i>Ordnung</i> plays out on a national and cultural level? One result is German shame, widespread after World War II, which saw the general rejection of all things German: architecture, cuisine, identity. Another is escapism, which I see in some Germans' fascination - at times blind - with more "relaxed" countries like Brazil, Spain, and India. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Then there are the German schoolchildren who can't write. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In the past 30 years, the writing skills of German second and third graders has been declining precipitously. Parents have watched aghast as their children write things like "He lukt up, he tuk the ston that the gurl had in her hand. i have mor stons at hom." Parents are further shocked when school teachers inform them that these mistakes are not to be corrected. This is the result of a method called "Reading Through Writing", implemented in the 1980s, which operates on the principle that children should be encouraged to freely re-create the language through exploration. (I find it hard to imagine that a child could spontaneously come up with the German language in a million years). Mistakes may not be corrected, lest the children's creative impulses be dampened. The outcomes are foreseeable: bad habits that persist from grade school into high school, from high school into college. Parents find they must spend hours at home teaching their own children proper German, high school teachers and college professors are frustrated with having to invest time correcting grammar instead of teaching the intended content of their classes.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">How could this happen in a country that's so good at doing things right? The key may lie in the words of Hans Brügelmann, the professor of education who pioneered Reading Through Writing in Germany: "It was about liberating the children, about giving them space to experience." But why? He recalls from his own childhood: "When I was in school, I had the feeling that teachers were always right." Once in third grade, he was slapped on the head by a teacher who suspected him of cheating. "She openly abused her power." And in the atmosphere of liberal education reform of the 70s and 80s, there were enough educators who similarly believed that children needed to be rescued from the hickory-stick ways of German schooling, and Reading Through Writing sailed into national curriculum without a shred of evidence of its effectiveness.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It's an example of an emotional reaction played out on the national level, policies that are created solely based on people's sentiments. No country is immune to such movements. Only, this laxness seems uncharacteristic in Germany, the economic powerhouse of Europe whose stamp of "Made in Germany" is synonymous to the highest quality in the world. It is as if the country remains disciplined even when throwing caution to the wind; if a generation is going to rebel against German order, then by God it must be done <i>ordentlich</i>. Fortunately, the bureaucratic wheel is starting to spin back towards pragmatism: Numerous educators are taking measures to outlaw Reading Through Writing, including Renate Valtin, president of the German Society of Reading and Writing.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">At the end of our lunchtime conversation, Mike is giving me a sheepish look as he feels around the bottom of his wool Guatemalan shoulder bag. He has forgotten his wallet. But it's ok. He forgot it last time, too. He's the most consistent flake I know.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1665076432323753691.post-1537733009497859802015-04-30T02:18:00.000-07:002016-06-26T02:19:42.608-07:00The party of a lifetime and the virus that caused it<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></span><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">image: audrey mei</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The photo album has been in this house for twenty-five years. I found it stashed away in the meditation room upstairs with about fifteen other yellowed, crumbling volumes of photographs. I don't know whose photo albums they are. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I am upstairs at Coming Home Hospice in San Francisco's Castro, and the pictures I'm talking about are of some of the earliest victims of AIDS from 1985-87. The photo above is titled "Hospice Prom." Keep in mind that a hospice is an end-of-life home that serves patients who are diagnosed with six months or less to live. The outrageously dressed people in the picture, I assume, are some of the dying patients together with staff and friends who visited them. They are literally celebrating like there's no tomorrow. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As I turn the pages, there is one picture after the next of young handsome men, first in their street clothes, and as illness progresses, they appear in their hospital gowns, bed-ridden. Very noticeable are their visitors: few family members, but lots of friends. And wigs, sequenced dresses, platform shoes, and glitter lip gloss. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Needless to say, they don't party like that at Coming Home Hospice anymore. The patients I talk to once a week are mostly older, suffering from dementia, or phasing in and out of awakened states as they wait out advanced stages of cancer. A World War II veteran, a 100-plus year old great-grandmother, a 85-year-old stroke survivor whose nephew and niece placed him in care. But these young patients in the photographs flinging feather boas and sporting tiaras? That was yesteryear. Those parties are gone, because the illness that claimed them, AIDS, has nearly ceased to exist in this city.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Meanwhile, the virus lives on. And these images remind me of a certain grace that the first AIDS patients had as they faced not only the harrowing diagnosis of a new, incurable disease, but also the global stigma of being "punished" for their homosexuality, one example of this being Pope John Paul's decision to cancel a planned visit to Coming Home Hospice during his stay in San Francisco in 1987. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Twenty-five years later, the experience of being diagnosed HIV-positive remains devastating, yet living with the virus has drastically changed. The disease which once grabbed headlines has long been relegated to being out-of-sight, out-of-mind, through the efforts of modern medicine that raced against the clock to stop it. A blessing, which also made the <i>fantabulous</i> parties at this house history. </span><br />
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