“Stalling” Review

Here’s a nice review of my story “Stalling.” It’s part of the Fictionaut Faves series at the Fictionaut blog.

I’ve been thinking about this story a lot recently because my oldest son, Ethan (who’s turning five this week), is asking about death just about every day.

He wants to know when he’ll die. He wants to know when his mother will die. He wants to know when I’ll die.

Unfortunately it’s been a death-filled year: my aunt died in January, a coworker (in his early 30s) died unexpectedly in February, and most recently my mother-in-law passed away last month.

Plus Ethan’s been watching too much Scooby-Doo (filled with ghosts, mummies, etc.).

So there are many, many questions, and lots of stumbling answers.

“Stalling” is autobiographical, but it was mostly speculative at the time I wrote it. Now I’m truly living it.

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Shame

Last week (?) I posted a quote from Marisa Silver.

As a guest blogger at The Elegant Variation, she recently posted an article called “Advice for the lovelorn… I mean writers.”

Here’s something that hit home:

“Your work will often look horrible and embarrassing.It will be unoriginal. It will fill you with shame. You will lie down on your bed and think that no one has ever written more awful, ungainly sentences than you. Get up off the bed. Don’t panic. Like any kid – your work has to go through its awkward, pimply faced adolescence before it emerges as something another person might want to look at, hold in her hands, take into her heart.

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Reading Recs

  • Carol Keeley’s essay “The Culture of Fire.” Carol is a friend and wonderful writer/person. She also has a story (“Cremains”) in the current issue of Ploughshares. The issue was guest edited by Elizabeth Strout, and features some big names: Joyce Carol Oates, Richard Bausch, Mary Gordon and Amy Hempel. Congratulations, Carol!
  • Steve Almond’s essay about Chuck Prophet. This is an excerpt from Almond’s recently released book Rock and Roll Will Save Your Life. It’s good to see Mr. Prophet get some love. I saw him perform many, many times when I lived in San Francisco. Besides his indisputable musical skills, he’s also a master of handling hecklers.
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My Son, the President

Driving with my four-year-old son Ethan yesterday, a story came on NPR about the funeral for the Polish president who died in a plane clash last week…

E: He died?

Me: Yes. He was the president of a country called Poland, which is pretty far away. He died last week and today they’re having a funeral for him. Then they’re going to have an election to choose another president. Do you know what an election is?

E: No.

Me: Well, let’s see. An election is when people, uh, vote for other people to decide who’s going to be, um, the leader of a country — or a smaller place, like a city or a state. The people who win the election, they then get to make decisions and decide things. Like President Obama. There was an election a while back, and more people said they wanted President Obama to be the president, so he won the election, and he became the president. Now he’s the leader of our country.

E: I am.

Me: You’re the president of the United States?

E: Yes.

Me: That’s a pretty important job. Do you think you can handle it?

E: Yes.

Me: Well, let me know if you need any help with that.

E: I don’t need any help, Daddy.

Me: Okay.

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Dictionaries, DFW, Daddy Brain

Ever wondered which words David Foster Wallace circled in his dictionary? Wonder no more.

I now realize that I suffer from abulia (loss or impairment of the ability to make decisions or act independently). I used to call it daddy brain.

For the record: DFW used the American Heritage Dictionary.

More about the David Foster Wallace Archive at the Harry Ransom Center here.

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