Writing a Novel is Like Running a Marathon

I plan to graduate my MFA program with a fully written, ready to be shopped around, serious piece of work, which tells a sweeping, specific story that speaks to the universal experience of human life and, at the same time, illuminates intimate truths of the individual self. In other words, I plan to write a novel.

This is not exactly ground breaking news. In order to finish my MFA program I have to complete a thesis. This is generally expected to be a book-length piece of writing. Some people choose to compile a collection of short stories and/or essays. Others write novels. I will be one of the Others.

But it's not as easy as it sounds! You see, I have been trained to write short stories. For years and years, in workshops and at home, I have been sprinting to the finish line of plots that are small and contained, that focus on one or two pivotal moments in a character's life. As any runner knows, you can't go from sprinting 5K's to long distance running overnight. And the novel, it turns out, is a marathon.

Writers of big things, like marathon runners in training, need to go on long runs regularly —alone or in small groups. They need water. They need good running shoes. And every once in awhile, they need someone driving by to beep their horn and give them a thumbs up. What they don’t need is for someone to stop them after the first mile and say, “You know what? Your first step out of the block wasn’t that great. Let’s work on your stride for awhile.”

The quote above comes from a great article I read months ago in The Millions, about how writing workshops and programs focus on the short story because it's easy to critique in class and are too often the only thing journals are willing to publish in their limited spaces. In my own experience, I know this to be true - I have never written a single piece longer than a twenty or so pages (with the exception of NaNoWriMo novels, which I am loathe to count) and when faced with the prospect of a story arc that could carry a reader through several hundred pages I freeze, become frightened, and run back to the safe haven of the short story. This, despite the fact that my life's ambition is to be a novelist.

Here is the good news: I'm in an MFA program and I have three years to figure my shit out. Well, 1.5 years, really, because I am determined to spend the second half of the program writing and revising my thesis/novel. Next year I plan to take a novel writing workshop class - it spans not one but two semesters, giving the students a full academic year to write and workshop sections of their books-in-progress. This particular class is one of the reasons I was drawn to UNCW. I'm waiting for year two to take it is because I want to have a really good idea for a novel first and good ideas are at least 50% of writing. (The other 50% is the ability to find a gem in a bad idea.) (I have a lot of made up statistics about writing. My other favorite is that writing is 25% writing and 75% revising. See? Writers can do math!)

To make a long story short: by May of 2014, I will have written my first novel, by making a short story long. Also, I will not tell you how much time I spent getting the previous sentence's pun just right. That is between me and me.  

For more on the writing/running connection, check out these links:
The Running/Writing Parallel by The Running Historiain (a blog post by one of my favorites)
What I Talk About When I Talk About Running
99 Problems: Essays About Running and Writing

A Day to Celebrate

Happy National Coffee Day!

Yes, it's true. I have been informed by the ever-knowing Twitter that September 29 is National Coffee Day, which is a celebration I can definitely get behind. I wasn't always a coffee drinker. In fact, I didn't start drinking the good stuff until after I finished my undergraduate career, was working a boring job selling permits at the beach, and started bringing coffee to work spiked with Kahlua. (Hey - it was work, but it was STILL THE BEACH.) When I worked at the library we had a coffee pot in the common area of our department and my coffee drinking reached it's heights (but no Kahlua - see? I can stop anytime!). These days I like two cups in the morning, with a big splash of almond milk, and then I'm good to go.

Coffee! Let us celebrate you!

(In case you were wondering, I have some posts of substance brewing in the back of my head (get it? brewing? har har!) but school has been a hammer this week and my computer time has been devoted to reading, writing, revising and workshopping. Hopefully I will be able to finish my post about marathons and writing tomorrow, and then I have a doozy of an Adventures in Debt installment to share with you. Until then, drink up!)

Mini Vegan Donuts!

Introducing... the world's most adorable dessert!

I had a very social weekend. In addition to the potluck and almost-bar fight on Friday night, I attended a department picnic on Saturday and spent that evening watching my classmates perform karaoke. (As I have neither stage presence nor musical talent, I spared the bar my own performance). I feel like I'm starting to get the hang of balancing a social life with being a productive writer/faster runner and really, when it comes down to it, those are my priorities in life. Relationships, Writing and Running - not always in that order. I figure if I can work my ass off Sunday though Thursday, then Friday and Saturday serve as a reward. Basically, I am now a Weekend Warrior - an interesting turn of events, as I spent the bulk of my twenties attending parties that started at 6pm, ended by 11 and often featured a rotating cast of babies and children. Which was awesome, don't get me wrong - I have actually been missing my Texas life quite a bit this past week. But I'm also starting to appreciate the new rhythms of my social life in North Carolina. Work hard, play hard and take the time now and then to bake two dozen mini donuts. This, I have discovered, is the secret to life.

So about these donuts! I. Love. Them. And not just because they provided the opportunity for an extended photo shoot and a far too many sprinkle laden glamor shots. I used a recipe from Vegan YumYum, which was simple and straight forward, and I followed it word for word, step by step. I recommend you do the same. The only stumbling block for this recipe is that you need a donut pan - I have a mini one that I got on Amazon a year ago, and this was the first time I actually used it. It worked like a charm.

Mini donuts are awesome, and I will tell you why. They're tiny! Each donut is a little over a tablespoon of batter which makes them the perfect size to pop in your mouth. If you want a small sweet treat, they will satisfy. If you want a heartier dessert, there's nothing stopping you from eating five or six in one sitting. I'm speaking from experience here. Plus they really are adorable and different - they definitely stole the show at the potluck, which was my not-so-secret hope. Basically, if you're looking to eat a delicious metaphor for balance in one's life, the mini donut is it.

How about a few more glamor shots?

Work it, donut!

Do not underestimate the power of a tiny donut.

This is not the last you'll be seeing of donuts on my blog. Now that I have a basic recipe I plan to try out a bunch of variations, including some holiday themed ones. Because f there's one thing I love more than food, it's food with a theme.

Now: go forth, eat donuts, and find balance. I'll meet you there.

Why $1.50 Modelos Are a Bad Idea

Last night I went to a potluck, which was fun. I drank gin and tonics, which were delicious and wowed my new friends with the most adorable homemade mini-donuts in the world, which was satisfying. There was good food, good conversation and good times.

Then dinner ended and I should have gone home. Instead, we went to the bar where I proceeded to drink an inadvisable amount of cheap beer and then got into an altercation with a drunken douche who kept hitting on my friend even though she was clearly not interested. As it turns out, drunken douches do not like it when you ask them (politely!) to go away. They call you an ugly bitch who's just jealous that he is not hitting on you, and when you inform him that you have a boyfriend, he tells you that your boyfriend is probably out fucking some other girl right now, even though your boyfriend is ten feet away. Nathan and another friend chased the drunken douche out of the bar, the bouncers got involved and in the end no one was hurt, no one got punched, and we ordered another round. Crazy times!

This morning I woke up hungover and feeling a little foolish. I meant to go to yoga, but that didn't happen. I meant to finish reading my novel for class, but I still haven't started. I thought about yesterday's crappy run (it's so humid, again) and all the mini-donuts I had for dinner, and read some race recaps from more industrious bloggers, and felt bad about the fact that I haven't written in three days (which seems like a very long time when you are surrounded by writers all the time). It was the recipe for a really bad day and things were not looking to improve any time soon.

Then, I decided to clean the kitchen. Dishes: done. Floor: swept. Stove: cleaned. Pantry: reorganized.

 

 And then I felt better. 

Moral of the story: just because the beer is cheap doesn't mean you should drink all of it, and a clean house can't fix every thing but it's an excellent start. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a book to read and some words to write. Life = back on track! 

A Week in the Life of an MFA Student

Earlier this month, I saw a request for information about the life of an MFA student posted on the Network of Nice, a great series on the wonderful blog Yes and Yes. Even though I'm new to MFA-land I thought I would reply and share what I could. Then I realized I could actually answer this question on my blog, as those of you who followed my application process (all two years of it!) might be wondering the same thing. And so I give you: A Week in the Life of an MFA Student.

Monday. Most mornings start the same way: I wake up at around 6:30 AM and read blogs for about 20 minutes while the coffee brews. Once I have poured a cup I close the Internet, open my current project and write or revise (or both!) for an hour. It's really important for me to write first thing, otherwise I get caught up in the more mundane tasks of the day and it just doesn't happen. So, first things first: write. Then I either go for a run or take the pups to the dog park with Nathan. Or both, if I have time.

I shower, dress, eat lunch and then settle back at my desk and do some other MFA related work. Read the novel that we'll be discussing in class later that afternoon. Critique stories for workshop. Grade the papers from the class I'm teaching. At 3:00 I pack up my stuff and ride my scooter to campus for my class on the great non-American novel, which lasts from 3:30 to 6:15. We discuss the current book we're reading for three hours and then I'm done for the day.

Tuesday. This is my longest day, which still doesn't seem that long, considering it's not eight hours at a desk AND it's things I enjoy doing. It begins just like Monday - wake, coffee, write. I try to get to campus by 10 AM, at which point I head to the TA computer lab, settle into my work computer and put together lesson plans for the class that I teach. I try to stay a class or two ahead of them because it makes me feel more confident, and because lesson planning always takes more time than you think. We have a loose syllabus that we follow, so all the TA's know to teach the elements of craft on such-and-such day, but how we teach it is entirely up to us. We find stories to read and discuss in our individual classes. We create writing exercises. We assign homework and grade homework. It's fun but time-consuming, and is probably the most stressful part of my new life. Which still isn't that stressful, and I wouldn't dare complain about it. 

From 11 AM to 12 PM I have an office hour, during which time no actual students visit me. I mostly hang out with other grad students and read or grade. At 12:30 PM I head to the undergraduate lecture, which is the easy half of the class I teach. All I need to do is take attendance and make sure my students are paying attention and not using their phones to check Facebook. Lecture ends at 1:45 PM, which leaves just enough time for my 2 PM class, Creative Writing Teaching and Pedagogy. All the TA's take this class together and we basically use the time to talk about our classes, discuss what's working and what's failing miserably and bring up any issues we're dealing with in and out of the classroom. It's actually a lot of fun and can often turn into a gossip/bitch fest. It's also really nice to hear that I'm not the only one having problems, such as getting my students to do their assignments and speak in class. Together, we help each other.

From 3:30 PM to 6:15, I have my favorite class - Fiction Writing Workshop. This is where the magic happens. This is the whole point of an MFA program, as far as I'm concerned. We write stories. We distribute copies. We read and critique them. And then we spend three hours discussing one another's writing. What's working, what's not working, why did the author make this choice, what would happen if the author made that choice instead. Even when I'm not being workshopped, I learn so much from the process of critiquing and discussing the stories of others. It's a great experience and if you have a chance to join a workshop - even an informal one, among friends - do it. Your pride may take a hit, but your writing will be better because of it.

I get home at around 6:30, drink a bottle of wine, and then collapse in bed. Okay, maybe not a whole bottle. But close.

Wednesday: I have no classes! I KNOW. No classes and no work, on a Wednesday. It's kind of ridiculous. But don't think I squander this day - Wednesdays are actually one of my most productive days, as far as my own writing goes. Because I have no obligations, I write and revise as much as possible. This often involves heading to a coffee shop with an MFA friend or two and writing together. Writing with a friend is motivating and changing my scenery usually results in a new perspective. Or some good people watching. Either way, I get a lot done.

Thursday: Wake, coffee, write. Once again, I try to get to campus at 10 AM for any last minute class prep I need to do. From 11 AM to 12 PM I hold an office hour and no one shows up. At 12:30, it's show time - I teach my class of undergraduates for an hour and fifteen minutes. I'm usually very nervous and so far my classes have been hit or miss. The more I figure out my students and how well they respond to certain things, the better classes have been. After teaching I head to Pedagogy. I like the Thursday class because we've all just finished teaching and have tons of stories - some good, some not so good - to share. And once Pedagogy is over, so is my day! I head home and relax, because teaching is exhausting.

Friday: No classes again. I KNOW. I KNOW. And yet: I'm still productive. Friday is a good day to catch up on stuff and get a head start for the next week - mostly on whatever book we're reading for Monday's novel class. And, as always, I do my best to write as much as possible. I also do my long runs on Fridays because it's nice to have that out of the way before the weekend even begins.

Saturday: A day of rest.

Sunday: I rest and I prep for the week ahead. Because the next day is Monday and then we start the whole thing all over again.  

To make a long story short: being an MFA student means you must be self-motivated. You need to dedicate yourself to your writing and not get too distracted by your other classes and obligations. Writing comes first, as so many of my professors like to remind us. We have a lot of free time, but it's not really free - we need to use it for our own projects, our own experiments, our own work.

I look at this time as a gift to myself - the chance to dedicate three years to my growth as a writer, spent in a community that values writing and appreciates the time spent on it. For many of us, our writing will never be supported the way it is while we're in this program. Taking advantage of that support is not only an opportunity, but an obligation.

Plus, Wednesdays and Fridays off are pretty amazing. Just saying.

No Frills Vegan Chocolate Chip Cookies

I have a habit of overdoing it. Saying yes to too many things. Filling up my calendar until there isn't an empty space on it. Telling two friends I will go to two different things on the same night, at the same time. Leaving cookies in the oven for too long, because they look a little mushy and how much could another two minutes hurt?

It's that last one I want to talk about today. I am always convinced that my cookies need another two minutes, even when the recipe says that they should not, under any circumstances, stay in the oven for more than ten minutes. "Twelve minutes will be perfect," I retort. "You don't understand how my oven works."

You know where this is going. More often than not, I end up with hard, crispy cookies, when what I wanted was a soft cookie, oozing chocolate, lightly browned, a sweet pillow to place between my lips. I know I need to trust the recipe, to pull back, to stop myself from overdoing it. Sometimes I think I will never learn, but once in a while I'm rewarded. 

This weekend was one of those days. A cold front swept in early Friday morning, bringing with it gray skies and high of 74. 74! I met some friends for an eight mile run, read The Savage Detectives for three hours straight and baked these cookies. I decided to trust the recipe and pulled the cookies out of the oven after only ten minutes, then waited for them to cool. And when they cooled, they were perfect - simple and sweet, easy to make and a joy to share. As it turns out, occasionally following the directions pays off.

My baking cabinet is still pretty bare but I had all the ingredients on hand and the directions are straight forward and easy to follow. I changed up a few of the ingredients (white whole wheat flour instead of all-purpose, and half brown sugar, half white instead of all white) but I followed the directions to a T. As should you.

No Frills Vegan Chocolate Chip Cookies
adapted from VegWeb

You will need: 
2 cups unbleached white whole wheat flour
2 teaspoons baking powder 
1/2 teaspoon salt
a dash of cinnamon
1/2 - 3/4 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup canola or vegetable oil
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/4 cup water

Directions: 
1. Set ingredients out so they are at room temperature before you start. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and put your cookie sheets in the oven so they are preheated as well.  

2. In a large bowl, mix together flour, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon. Stir in chocolate chips. Make a well in the center and set aside.

3. In a medium size bowl, add together sugar and oil; mix well. Add the vanilla and then add the water; mix well again.

4. Pour the wet mix into the well in the dry bowl. Stir just until combined.  

5. Roll dough into walnut sized balls and then flatten slightly. Place on warm cookie sheets with space between each ball - the cookies will spread, but not too much. Bake for 5 minutes and then flip and rotate the sheets (top to bottom and 180 degree rotation). Bake another 4 minutes and check them. The cookies are done when they seem a little bit softer then you want them to be. They will harden up some as they cool.

6. Remove from oven and let cool on cookie sheets. Try your best not to eat all the cookies in one sitting. Good luck!

Project 365: Week Two (and My Weekend!)

Despite missing a day or two yet again, I'm posting a week's worth of photos. (Well, almost. Somehow I only have six photos. I don't know how that happened.) This past week has been a bit crazy, and I had to speed read for hours in order to finish The Savage Detectives (class discussion today!), which left little time or mental space for much else. But it's done, and my reward? Starting the next book for class ASAP. A grad student's work is never done.

This past week was not all work and no play, however. The photos below will prove that.

In case you missed my recap of the Pooch Plunge, it really was a fantastic time. Whenever I look at these photos I can't help but smile.

Last week I put the finishing touches on a story I'd been playing with for a few months, made ten copies, neatly stapled them in the upper left-hand corner and passed them out for workshop. I have my reservations about this story - it's different from my usual style, more genre-like (I was going for Western/East Texas Gothic) then the slow, quiet and tense stories I usually write. I have no idea how it will go over, but I keep telling myself that's the point of the workshop. To take risks, try new things, see if it bombs and learn from the experience no matter what. Workshop is on Tuesday. Gulp.

We have a friend in town who doesn't have a car and instead bikes everywhere. Twice she has ended up with a flat tire and had to call us for a ride, since we're the only people who have a bike rack on our car at all times. We really don't mind doing this for our friend - she is a nice person, we spent a lot of money on that bike rack and like putting it to use, and this town is small enough that she's never stranded more than a few miles away. Even so, she baked us a loaf of delicious bread as a thank you gift. While I don't need thank you gifts for such an easy favor, I am not in the habit of turning down good food. Thanks, friend!

This weekend, while tethered to my couch and book, I took a break to bake cookies. They came out really well and I'll be posting the recipe tomorrow. (I know! A recipe post! It's been so long!) I hadn't had a food photo shoot in a while and, well, this is what happens when you read a book for three hours straight.

We were successfully social on Saturday night! First: a faculty reading at Old Books. Second: a free viewing of Tree of Life on campus. Third: a night at Lula's, my new favorite bar downtown, with a bunch of MFA people. The reading was fun and I loved hearing the work of writers from whom I'm learning. The film was strange and weird but a wonderful meditation on love, loss and how small our lives really are. The bar was ridiculous, even though I only had three beers. There was a man who performed a dance for us and then lost a $100 dollar bet. He did not pay up. It was a good night.

We left at 1:30 AM and I snapped this photo as we walked to the car, because I had forgotten to take a photo for the day. Better late than never!

Yesterday, as another reading break (I did end up finishing the book, despite all these breaks) my friend and I decided to go to Target to see if there was anything left from the Missoni collection. I'm no fashion plate and don't even really like the Missoni stuff (zig zags? really? that's it?) but I do like cultural phenomenons and this seemed to fit the bill. The Wilmington Target was pretty much cleaned out, but I did find this little plastic plate for $3.99, which is not bad as far as anthropological indulgences go. When I got home I looked it up on Ebay and found people selling this same plate for $10, $20, even $30 dollars! People be crazy. Also, I am not selling my plate. I will use it for fancy dinner parties and my guests will admire and envy my taste in plates. True fact.

These photos satisfied my Project 365 and sort of recapped my weekend at the same time. I like photos that multitask! How was your week and weekend? Read any good books? Score any Missoni items at Target? Bake anything delicious? I certainly hope so.

Now I'm off to start a new week in earnest. Happy Monday, y'all!

Racing in Wilmington

This week marks the start of the half marathon training plan I created months ago, when I was still daydreaming out my office window andcounting down the minutes until my last day at work. Through the glory of theInternet I found the website for the Wilmington Road Runners, a thrillinglyactive running club with a great calendar of races and events in and aroundtown. I immediately set my sights on the Battleship Half Marathon on November6, which I’ve decided will be my big fall race.

Since my last race back in May running has been less aboutpushing myself and more about rationalizing my generous portion sizes. Acalendar clear of upcoming races plus the oppressive heat and humidity ofsummer in East Texas meant I was running about three times a week, for about three miles a pop, at a leisurely pace (ten minute miles, which is comfortablefor me). To be honest, I haven’t really pushed myself since the Houston Marathon way back in January. Apparently, PRing by 23 minutes was where my motivation and ambition found their limits.

Now things are different. I’m in a new city, in a slightly more forgiving climate and my drive to work harder and run faster has returned.Yesterday I ran a total of four miles, but the middle part of that run involved speed work. Yes, speed work! I decided to kick off half marathon with a bang. I started by running a one mile warm up, which took me to Empie Park (where the dog park is located). There is a loop around the parkthat is about ¾ of a mile long, which seemed perfect for speed work. My training plan called for 5 sets of 400 meters, run at a 5K pace. I set my Garmin to lap every .25 miles and planned to run fast for one lap and recover for one lap, repeating this five times. (Is that enough numbers and fractions for you? I hope so.)

Since my 5K pace is just over an 8 minute mile, my goal was to run the speedy sections in two minutes or less. Here is how it went:

1st lap: Damn, my legs are really working. I feel strong! It must be because I went to that hot power yoga class yesterday. My hips are loose and flexible. I am a warrior! A fast and speedy warrior! Time: 1:49

2nd lap: Okay. Still going pretty fast. Oh, people are starting to show up to the dog park. I like looking at dogs while I run. Whoa, the Garmin beeped already. That was fast! Time: 1:49

3rd lap: Ouch. My calves are getting sore. I think I’m slowing down but I can’t tell. Maybe I should pick it up until I get to that shady section of the trail. Ah, that’s better. Except for the whole legs thing. My legs feel like they’re going to fall off. Time: 1:47

4th lap: Just this lap and then one more and I’m done. I can jog home as slowly as I want. Just two more laps. Oh, man. I’ve only gone .06 miles since the last time I looked at my Garmin. Must stop looking at Garmin. Time: 1:53

5th lap: Last lap! I will run this one in the opposite direction, as a reward. Wait, did I just say reward? Speed work is starting to affect my brain. Just one more minute of running. I can do this! Time: 2:02

Not bad for my first speed session in months! And even though I felt like I was going to die on a few of those laps (I’m looking at you, four and five) when I was done I felt positively euphoric and accomplished, which is a pretty awesome way to start your day.

Training: I love you! It’s good to be back.

You Can't Have It All

A few days ago, a supposedly progressive and liberal acquaintance posted a little rant on Facebook about feminism. The gist of it was that feminists are hypocritical and judgmental because they want all women to be doctors or lawyers and look down on those who choose instead to be mothers and nurturers. She went on to say that feminism has fed us a pack of lies by trying to tell us we can “have it all” – be mothers AND career women, have families AND a life outside the home – but that in reality, one side of your life will suffer. Mostly the family side.

Obviously, there’s a lot to critique in this kind of blanket statement. For example, I know plenty of feminist ladies who find a balance between being a mother and being an independent person; that not all mothers have a choice between staying at home and having a job; that feminists regularly rally for the rights of mothers (better maternity leave, equal pay for equal work, and breastfeeding laws, to name just a few); and that encouraging women to pursue a career that can support themselves and their families is just plain logical (marriage isn’t always forever).

But I’m going to ignore all of that for a moment and talk instead about this idea of “having it all.” I actually agree with my acquaintance on this point. I don’t think it’s possible to have it all. I do not, however, blame feminism for fooling me into thinking I could have everything I ever wanted.The fact is that every choice we, men and women, make in life means there is another choice we turned down; that every path we take leads, in some sense, to regret for the road not taken.

This is the whole point of growing up – making hard choices and living with both the rewards and the consequences. 99% of the time you cannot be both a stay-at-home mother andthe CEO of a giant corporation. You can’t commit to a monogamous relationship and sleep with whomever you want. You can’t eat vegan cupcakes for breakfast every day and PR at every race. You can’t adopt two giant dogs and live in the best apartment or house. I can’t stay in Nacogdoches with all my friends and pursue an MFA from the program of my dreams. Such is the nature of life.

Every choice comes with regret. It’s natural, it’s normal and it doesn’t make sense to hem and haw about how somebody lied to you. The solution isn’t to have less choices, but to take responsibility for the ones you make. To celebrate the things that your choices have brought you and come to terms with whatever it is you have lost or missed along the way. We can’t have it all, but we can choose what we have. That, to me, is the joy of being an independent and fulfilled human being, and that’s the gift that feminism gave to women who didn’t have those choices before.

This was the gist of my response on Facebook, but obviously it was much shorter and less eloquent. Still, I think I got my point across. What would you have said in this situation? I usually avoid political confrontations on Facebook, as they often lead to me unfriending people in fits of rage, but when it’s someone bad mouthing feminists I can’t help but jump in.

Pooch Plunge O'leven

One of the things I love about Wilmington is how dog-friendly it is. There are at least three dog parks that I know of (our regular spot is Empie Park) and most neighborhoods and trails feature handy poop bags and receptacles. ("Pick up after your dog... it's your doody!" Folks, you cannot make this stuff up.) At the dog park, we learned of yet another awesome thing Wilmington offers it's canine citizens - the annual Pooch Plunge!

The public pools close after Labor Day and before they empty the pools, the city offers one week where dogs are allowed to enjoy the water. It costs five dollars per dog to enter and the money goes towards animal organizations in town. It is, in a word, awesome. We took Seamus and Calvin twice (what can I say? My pooches are spoiled) and they had a mostly great time.

I say mostly, because the first time we went to the pool Calvin was not very excited about swimming. It is well documented that Calvin is a dog with a lot of quirks (a nice word for "issues") such as barking at inanimate objects and having to be neutered twice. He likes water, but he's used to lakes where he can enter the depths gradually. The pool had steps, which were apparently too much to handle.

Seamus, on the other hand, is a true water dog. He jumped off the edge of the pool into the water and never looked back. He likes to swim slow circles in the pool and bark at any dogs who get too close.

If I was rich/crazy, I would get him one of those endless pools. It would be good for his hips.

There were a lot of dogs at the pool. They were all very happy.

Nathan coaches Calvin on the fine art of swimming. Some dog owners were pushing their wary dogs into the pool but we like to let our dogs make their own decisions. After enough cajoling and sweet talking, we finally had success!

Go, Calvin, go! Did Calvin swim right back to the edge and try to climb out, even though the stairs were two feet away? I'll never tell.

At the end of the day, I am confident that both Seamus and Calvin had a good time at the pool, and I'm certain they're looking forward to next year's Pooch Plunge. It's good to be a dog in Wilmington!

Thursday Thoughts + Running

Azalea trail in Nacogdoches - obviously *not* today's run.

Running has been a real joy these last few weeks. The weather has been pretty cool, especially in the mornings, and my speed has started to return. (Side note: I love hearing classmates who moved here from Seattle and Michigan balk at the "heat" and "humidity" and marvel at the fact that it is 85 degrees in September, whereas I am loving these cool and mild temperatures. Texas, you trained me well.) Earlier this week I ran three miles at an 8:48 pace; today I did a perfect four mile progressive, which was longer and more even than my previous progressive workouts. I don't know if it's the weather, the running break I enjoyed this summer or the fact that North Carolina is much flatter than East Texas, but whatever it is, I'll take it.

In other news, I seem to have missed yet more days of Project 365. I don't know why it's so hard to remember to take one photo every day but apparently, for me, this is an impossible request. I don't want to keep starting the project over so I might just truck on, count the times I miss, and extend the project by that number of days. The goal of the project is to make myself take more photos and more risks in my photos, so as long as I'm accomplishing that then it's okay to make exceptions to the challenge. (Which is another way of telling myself: You failed - but in a good way.)

I need to budget my money like whoa. My stipend is very small, my savings are dwindling and I'm already out of money for the month. Boo. I'm going to dip into my savings in order to make it to October, at which point I will adopt a serious budget. I have to keep reminding myself that we are no longer a two-income family with the world's tiniest mortgage, and start living like the broke-ass graduate student that I am. Time to stock up on lentils and rice!

Also time to head to campus. I am teaching today and I'm excited to report that class gets better every week. Last Thursday my students contributed to a discussion AND read their in-class writing exercises out loud. I also graded a homework assignment (grading! so hard!) and was really pleased with the work they did. My students are talented! Such a relief.

Have a great Thursday!

Making the Bed: A DIY by Nathan

The only real downside of moving to North Carolina has been Nathan's unsuccessful job search. In Texas he worked as an environmental scientist, identifying wetlands with a private consulting company. While he researched companies before we got here and identified a few that looked promising, it turns out that no one is actually hiring. Have you heard about the economy? Apparently, it sucks.

Luckily we have a fair bit of money in savings and my stipend at least pays for rent and dog food, so we have a cushion before the real worrying starts. In the meantime, Nathan is enjoying his funemployment stint by taking the dogs to the park every day, finally beating Super Mario Brothers 3 and building all kinds of furniture for our home. The first project he started and finished was not one, but TWO, beautiful bed frames.

He started with a basic design and made adjustments as he went. Nathan did all the measuring, planning and cutting. I mostly sanded the wood, which was an important but incredibly dull job. Shortly after we moved here, we purchased a new mattress for ourselves, upgrading from a full to a queen, which has been awesome (mostly because it provides more room for Calvin). Our old mattress now serves as the guest bed. And can I just say how grown up having a guest bed feels? Very grown up. Being able to provide an actual room with a real, live place to sleep, as opposed to a pile of blankets on the living room floor, or a couch for which one must fight Seamus, feels very swanky indeed.

Back to the bed. 

Here is the finished product! It's a very simple platform bed, lower to the ground which we prefer. This photo is not the best, but you can kind of see the curved legs. Nathan used the router on those, which took forever. This bed is also really, really heavy. Let's just say I'm not looking forward to moving out of this house.

And here is the bed frame with a mattress on it! Our bedroom is not actually decorated yet, so forgive the bare walls. I do like those red curtains (they need to be raised - we used the existing hardware, which was too low) and the matching red sheets. The walls are a mossy green (the photo above this one, of the frame, is more true to life) and we don't plan to repaint them.

Here's another angle, including our second window which looks out over the backyard. As far as bedrooms go, it's small but comfortable and perfectly functional. Especially now that our mattress isn't on the floor!

Nathan's next few projects, in various states of starts and finishes, include a compost for the backyard; a bookcase for the study; a credenza and coffee table for the living room; and a kitchen table so I no longer have to serve dinner on the couch. Nathan may be unemployed, but he's definitely not bored.

Have you and/or your partner ever built furniture before? We've built some crappy bookcases in the past and Nathan made a decent hutch in our last place but this is the first time he's had the tools and time to build things he's actually likes. It makes a difference!

Ultra Marathon Training

Just off the trail that winds around Greenfield Lake, my new favorite place for long runs.

Yesterday, I trained for an ultra marathon. Sort of. I have a new friend in my program (a fellow first year) named M. and she's training for a 62 mile race that takes place in two weeks. When I heard about M.'s race, I got excited - I needed some local running friends and the best ones are those who are a thousand times more hardcore than yourself. In fact, M. was such a good influence on me that I ran eight miles at a faster-than-usual pace, which is easily the farthest that I've run since April. Needless to say, I was very tired and very proud. But mostly very tired.

Because M. is training for an ultra, our run was a little different than I'm used to. Usually I run my runs - meaning I don't take walking breaks and if I have to use a bathroom or tie my shoe or wait for a light to turn green, I stop my watch. M. is planning to finish her race in 19 hours (!!!) and her strategy is to run for 20 minutes and then walk for three. After even a short break, your muscles tighten up and it can be hard to get going again. Walking breaks train your body to adapt to that discomfort and get moving again. This was tough for me after about five miles - I can't imagine how much harder it would be after 40 or 50.

The first 20 minutes flew by. We talked a lot about 9-11 and even paused for a moment of silence under a flag at half mast. The walking break was nice and I had no problem running again once it was over. The second interval was a bit harder. The fourth interval was really hard. Once my Garmin clicked to six miles (my previous long run distance in recent weeks) I hit a wall. Slowed down. Got a side stitch. The mind can be an evil thing. We took a four minute walking break and then there was just a mile left, and I swore I would not stop running until we got to the end of the path. It was a really, really hard mile. But we finished it and clocked eight miles in just over one hour and twenty minutes - an average pace of ten minute miles, WITH walking breaks. Which means that when we were running, our pace was between nine and 9:30. For a long run pace, for me, that is super fast!

I accidentally turned my Garmin off for about a tenth of a mile. Good thing it's a four mile loop.

I came home, read the Internet for a while (I love Get Off My Internets and just discovered the forums. Hours of snarky entertainment.), ate a huge helping of leftover vegan lasagna, and spent the rest of the day catching up on school work. Not too shabby for a Sunday.

And now that I've broken the six mile barrier, I truly feel like I'm in training mode again. Upcoming races I'm planning to enter, just so long as I pay my bills and nothing comes up, include an 8K on October 9th, a half marathon on November 6th, and a four mile Turkey Tofurkey Trot on November 26th. The best part? All of the races are in Wilmington. Such a novelty after traveling to events in East Texas.

As for today, I have still more school work to do (it never really ends), papers to grade, words to write and class to attend. And a yoga class at noon, if I can get enough done before then. Wish me luck! 

Ten Years Ago

Ten years ago I was eating a bagel in the dining hall of Purchase College, watching curiously as the television showed a plane hitting one of the Twin Towers. "What a terrible accident," I thought. I left the dining hall and walked across campus to the Registrar's office, where I worked.

When I got there the second plane had already hit and people were walking around with dazed expressions on their faces. Someone pulled down a large projection screen and turned the news on as if it were a movie. When the towers collapsed, a collective gasp ripped through the room. Our campus was only a few miles outside of the city and classes were canceled for a week. I was sent home from work and went back to the dorms to sit with my friends, drink beer and try to make sense of this terrifying new world.

That day, I knew things would never be the same. I mourned the lives that had been lost and the life that was slipping away in front of my eyes. We were so naive. We were so simple. We were so trusting. We would never be that way again.

Last year, two very important things happened on September 11th. A dear friend married a beautiful and kind woman in the mountains of Massachusetts, and in Texas one of my favorite couples welcomed a perfect daughter into their family.

This is the lesson that I have learned from September 11th: there is no way to know what the world will look like tomorrow and so we must make the most of today. Today I think back on that morning ten years ago and I remember. And then I think about friends in love and children celebrating first birthdays, the ways in which our world has changed, some for the better, some for the worse, and I take my memories, and I move forward.

Project 365: Week One: Round Two

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post about and shared some photos from Project 365, which I was going to use to document my first year in Wilmington, the start of my MFA program, and the last year of my 20's. And it was going really well... until I missed two days in the second week. Rookie mistake.

Since it was so early in the challenge I decided the best thing to do was to simply start over as of September 1. (Or August 31, because I got confused about what day it was and really liked this first photo.) The rules are the same: one photo a day, every day, for one year. I will post them in batches of seven each Friday. Enjoy!

1. You've already seen this photo, but I'm sure this will happen on occasion. I only take so many good photos. This is the classroom where I teach my undergrads. It's also the creative writing department's conference room, which means it is very fancy and comfortable, and that I will spend a lot of time in these chairs over the next three years.

(I had a photo here of a story I was critiquing for a classmate, but as pointed out in the comments this could be considered a violation of privacy, as the name of the classmate and the words she wrote were both legible. Therefore, I removed it. Better safe than sorry!)

2. In my old life, Friday afternoons were spent like every other afternoon - staring out a window on the fourth floor of my building, counting the minutes until five o'clock. Now, I spend them on my screened in porch, drinking a beer and critiquing stories for class. Somebody, pinch me.

3. This is the river front in downtown Wilmington, as seen from the deck of the USS North Carolina battleship. It's a lovely little city.

4. Another angle of the chocolate orange vegan cupcake from Coastal Cupcakes. Might need to get another one this weekend!

5. I'm taking a class this semester focused on reading the "great non-American novel." This is the first one we're tackling. So far it's... okay. I'm behind in my reading so I'll have a better feel for the book once I catch up.

6. I almost forgot to take a photo and last minute, rushed into the kitchen and tried to get artsy with the refrigerator. (It was dark and this was the best lighting I could find.) Not bad for a super fast, fake-artsy photo. (Also, I need to go grocery shopping, stat.)

7. We went on our second bike ride with the Cape Fear Cycling Club. Same route, same mileage, but I felt a little faster and stronger this week. Also, I took this photo using an app and my iPhone (Camera+ - thanks for the rec, Kate!) and I'm not sure how I feel about using apps for Project 365. The point is to become a better photographer and apps seem like a crutch. I think I'll use them only in emergencies (IE, I forgot my real camera and needed to document something.) What do you think?

One week down, 51 weeks to go!

Teaching 101: A Hard Lesson

On the bright side, I have the nicest classroom out of all the TA's.

As I've mentioned before, I was lucky enough to get a teaching assistantship at UNCW. This means that I receive a stipend and tuition assistance in exchange for educating undergraduates about the fine art of creative writing. UNCW actually has one of the better programs for teaching assistants - we're given a ton of support through co-teaching with a cohort our first year, a class devoted to creative writing teaching and pedagogy, and a network of TA's, past and present, who freely share their experiences. We're not at all expected to reinvent the wheel, for which I'm very grateful.

So, now that I'm two weeks into the whole teaching thing, what's it like? To put it simply: much, much harder than it looks. It's no secret that I love school and would even go so far as to consider myself a connoisseur of the classroom experience. That, however, is as a student. As a teacher? I pretty much have no idea what I'm doing.

That's not true. I have an idea. In my head, I arrive to class with a brilliant lesson plan that illuminates the mystery and magic of writing and that inspires my students to pick up their pens and complete their exercises courageously, fiercely. They all clamor to share what they've written out loud and are terribly disappointed when we only have time to hear two or three. That disappointment is short-lived, because soon we're discussing last week's assigned reading and the students are full of insightful opinions and astute questions. I explain what I can in a clear and concise manner and my students think I'm the most brilliant teaching assistant to ever walk on this campus. After class, many of them hang behind to continue the discussion or ask for recommendations for further reading. I head to my next destination feeling confident in my abilities as an instructor and excited about the next generation of writers and readers.

Oh, the glamor!

This is the idea. The reality goes something like this: I spend hours breaking my lesson plan down into five minute increments, so there is no chance that I will run out of things do to fifteen minutes into class (a very real fear). I comb the archives of TA's past and my own hazy memories for writing exercises and readings that I think my students will connect with and respond to.  When I get to class, my students stare at me, waiting for... I'm not sure what exactly they're waiting for, but it is clear that whatever it is, I do not have it. I hastily give them a ten minute writing assignment so I can breathe deeply and rewrite my lesson plan while they work, because they are obviously not up for a five minute long discussion of a story that no one seems to have read. When the ten minutes is over and I ask for volunteers to read what they have written, everyone is apparently fascinated with the table, the floor and/or their shoes, because no one is meeting my expectant gaze. I eventually call on someone randomly, which makes me feel like a horrible person, but what am I supposed to do? After that person reads - and their writing is actually pretty good - I decide to call on everyone, just so I can be equally horrible to them all. They all read, and deep down they seem to enjoy listening to each other and sharing their own work. Will they ever admit this? Will they ever actually volunteer to read? Probably not. 

Class ends ten minutes early, which is pretty good considering what we've been through. As I tell them next week's assignment they're already packing up their stuff, rustling papers and pulling out cell phones to check their messages. "Good work today," I say, but no one hears me. Within thirty seconds they are gone and I'm left alone in the room, wondering how anyone does this for a living. 

For now, I remind myself that I've only been teaching for two weeks, and that if I think about, the second week was already better than the first. I'm learning and hopefully, eventually, I can pass that on to my students. In the meantime, I am finding that having an arsenal of in-class exercises is key, and that calling on people does not make me an evil teacher. Baby steps, my friends. Baby steps. 

To my fellow professor, teacher and student friends: Any advice for a brand new teacher, who would like to turn this into a somewhat successful career? Any and all advice is appreciated.

A Weekend With Friends

We've only lived in North Carolina for a month and change, but this weekend we had the pleasure of entertaining our very first visitors.

Allie is one of my oldest friends - we have literally known each other half of our lives. She and I (and her boyfriend Tony) went to high school together and even though we've had half a country between us for most of the last decade, we've stayed in touch and remain as close as ever.

Allie and Tony made the twelve hour drive from Long Island on Friday and got to Wilmington at around 11pm. We stayed up until three drinking wine on the porch and talking. The next morning, we got up bright and early (and paid for it later...). There was coffee, breakfast, the dog park and then we decided to treat our guests to a real Wilmington weekend, full of tourist attractions and historical sites. Since we moved here we've done very little sightseeing, figuring we'd have a chance when we had out-of-town visitors. We were right.

The Battleship!

Our first stop was the USS North Carolina Battleship. "When the keel of NORTH CAROLINA was laid in October of 1937, she was the first battleship to be constructed in sixteen years. She became the first of ten fast battleships to join [the] American fleet in World War II." We spent about two hours walking through the ship on a self-guided tour, which was actually pretty fascinating. The signage was through and interesting, and I learned more than I will probably ever need to know about life on a battleship in the 1940's.

A desk and four beds. This was the police station on board.

The showers were not very luxurious.

Narrow halls, which made me a little claustrophobic.

This is where the captain steered the ship and looked out for pirates!

Hello, Sailors! :)

After we had exhausted our bodies and minds with the tour, we headed back downtown and made our way to Coastal Cupcakes. They are a no-frills cupcake shop, specializing in - you guessed it - cupcakes. On the weekends, they offer two varieties of vegan deliciousness. Below is the chocolate orange version, which was as delicious as it looks.

In the evening, we went to an MFA party at which I failed to take any photos. Which is a shame because the theme of the party was Stoplight, and attendees were instructed to wear red, yellow or green. Red meant you were in a relationship, yellow meant that it was complicated, and green said "Hello, I am single and ready to mingle!" I was obviously in the red camp. It was a really fun party and a clever way to figure out who in the program was available. From the sea of red I saw, not that many!

We didn't stay at the party very late (the previous night's 3am bed time + a full day of Battleship touring and cupcake eating took it's toll) but we had a great time while we were there. AND I actually slept past 8am the next morning, which is a welcomed change from my usual habit of rising at 6:30 no matter what.

Sunday was a little lazier than Saturday. We slept in, had tons of coffee and then Nathan and I took the dogs to the park while our guests enjoyed some alone time. I like giving guests a little space while they visit, even if it's only 30 minutes. When we returned from the park, we played a little (okay, a lot) of Mario Kart on the Wii and once I had come in first place enough times, we decided to walk around downtown and duck into as many shops and stores that looked interesting. I may or may not have eaten another vegan cupcake.

It was a warm day so after we were exhausted once more we headed home to clean up, play some more Mario Kart and get ready for dinner at the Mellow Mushroom. The Mellow Mushroom is a chain that mostly serves pizza and beer in a psychedelic, 60's era setting. The main reason I like this place so much is that they have vegan cheese on the menu as well as tofu and tempeh toppings. After living in East Texas so long, these kinds of options are a revelation. My pizza was delicious as usual, and when we were done we had just enough time to head back downtown for the Haunted Ghost Walk.

Our guide is the one in the hat. Here, we are standing under a tree which was once used to hang guilty prisoners.

I didn't know what to expect from the Ghost Walk, having never been on one before, and I have to say - I was pleasantly surprised! For just $12 you joined a group led by a guide and set out on foot through historic districts and dark alleys, pausing at certain places along the way while the guide told a ghost story - usually featuring murder, hangings, love gone wrong and creepy instances of people seeing apparitions and spirits in the very places where we were standing. I don't put much stock in ghosts, but I do believe places are infused with a sort of energy, good and bad, and when you're standing in a dark alleyway, listening to a talented tour guide act out a gristly death in detail - well, it's hard to keep that chill from running down your spine.

Allie and Tony standing in the doorway where a woman was shot and killed by her angry lover.

A spooky looking house along our walk.

Our friends left this morning for the drive back to Long Island, and I hope they had a good time. I know I did. Not only did we get to test drive our guest room but we also got to see a side of Wilmington we wouldn't normally check out. All in all a short, sweet and very fun weekend.

Today I am finishing this blog post and then devoting the rest of the day to school work - I have many pages to read, three stories to critique for a workshop, teaching materials to prep and, if I'm lucky, I might even have some time to work on my own writing! As for half marathon training and exercise in general, it's been a nice little break and I'll be back on track tomorrow. I hope you're all having a great weekend and a fine morning. Happy Labor Day!