OPEN LETTER TO THE SHOELESS BOY ABOUT CAMPUS

Dear Shoeless Boy,

I tried to keep quiet.  I told myself not to be judgmental.  I've wracked my brain for various, viable reasons why you insist upon walking around campus shoeless.  But I can't seem to conjure up any sufficient explanations. So, I will now speak my mind.  I'm sick of being subjected to your dirty, shoeless feet!  I find it to be repulsive, vulgar, and unsanitary.

It's fall, not summer.  We are in a city, not at the beach or in the country. I've contemplated that perhaps you are short on funds, but it's hard to imagine that you came to this University and aren't able to afford at least one pair of shoes.  Plus, the university community here is more than willing to help out a person in need.  I'm sure they would have offered you a pair of shoes by now if you couldn't afford them yourself.  Even the homeless people around town have shoes.  So, I  must deduce that your shoelessness is a choice.  I imagine it's some sort of "statement" or lifestyle declaration. But what could you possibly be declaring?  That you are one with nature?  That you want to have thick soles?  That shoes are a manifestation of everything that is wrong with society?  That shoes are a first world luxury?  WHAT ARE YOU TELLING US???

From what I can gather you are telling us that you are a magnet for germs and a potential candidate for hepatitis c (believe me, I've seen needles on the sidewalks around here).  And therefore I feel that it's my duty to tell you to put some shoes on.  You may think you're an eccentric or that you're sending off some cool, hippie vibe.  Perhaps you just enjoy the freedom of being barefoot. Nevertheless, you are also subjecting others to unnecessary and unsavory interactions with your grubby feet.  So, please do us all a favor and put some shoes on and kindly remember the wise old adage:  No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service!

Stuck

It’s terror, he said
And this stuck in my head
Because I finally new the difference
between living and surviving

But I can’t seem to quit
This repetitive shit
And I know this disease is continually thriving

Still, I can’t hit pause
Or unfurl it’s claws
from the grasp it has on my brain

So I pray and I weep
For some respite or sleep
And hope that someday
I’ll be fine 

Poetry: 1 Serious, 1 Silly

Brain Burn

I want to burn my brain
char the chinks in the matter
melt my thoughts and
reduce them to marshmallow mush
oozing, goopy and dripping
turn my poisoned perceptions to ash
until I find relief



I Don't Get You*

I'm confused by your irony
I despise your inspired,
perplexed by your ambiguous high five
I hate your quinoa and kale
and all your found pieces
Your sustainability is insufferable
I'm befuddled by your ethos
I resent your exclusivity shrouded in aloofness
I want my fanny pack back!

* I wrote this before my epiphany regarding the usage of the word hate.

Forms & Genres: Navigating the Literary Buffet

I've always enjoyed reading different writing forms and genres.  I appreciate fiction and nonfiction.  Drama, comedy, romance, young adult, chick lit, poetry, children's classics, distopian lit, biographies, EVERYTHING!  Not only do I enjoy reading a wide variety of literature, but I've also always enjoyed writing different literary forms.  In the past I've focused on writing poetry, essays and humor.  I've also always enjoyed writing song lyrics.  This is somewhat strange since I don't play an instrument or sing.  I guess it's really just poetry that I envision would be good as songs.

However, now that I'm newly dedicating myself to my writing pursuits, I feel like I just don't know what avenue to pursue as far as my writing is concerned.  I feel like I'm standing in front of  a glorious literary buffet and I am ravenous for each and every morsel in front of me.  I have children's book ideas, novel outlines, backlogs of poetry and newly penned short stories.  I guess I'm struggling to decide what genre to really hone in on.  I almost feel like I've been in a coma for years and now that I am newly awake I want to pursue anything and everything!  And really, that's what I've been doing so far.  In just the past couple of months I've written three new poems, a short story, two children's books and an article.  They have all been of strong interest to me and close to my heart.  Though, I will say the short story was a foray into a very unknown territory:  speculative fiction.  That was different.  It definitely took me outside my comfort zone.

I do think  I need to focus my efforts a bit more and choose maybe one or two projects to pursue full force.  I guess I'm feeling passionate about my kids books and pursuing that.  I think perhaps its because I have children of my own now.  I also really enjoy writing poetry, but I know this isn't really popular amongst the masses.  Though, my poetry is definitely not pretentious (in my humble opinion).  I actually think we need to make poetry more accesible to people.  I often think people are scared of it or find it boring, so they avoid it.  Perhaps if poets made more of an effort to make their work relatable, then it would have more readership.  I don't know.  I'm just rambling on and typing anything that comes to mind.  Anyway, I guess I'm just trying to flesh out what my next move is.
What to pursue?!  The possibilities are truly endless.  I think I need to do a bit more reflecting and "soul searching" and go from there.

Please feel free to share your thoughts or insights!  Anyone?  Anyone?  Bueller, Bueller....If you have a thought, just add it to the comments section.  I would love to hear from you.

In the meantime, I am going to leave you with a list of books/literary works that I consider some of my favorites. Perhaps reflecting on these will help me make some decisions.  In no particular order...

"She's Come Undone" by Wally Lamb
"I Know this Much is True' by Wally Lamb
"The Awakening" by Kate Chopin
"The Count of Monte Cristo" by Alexandre Dumas
"Sloppy Firsts" by Meagan McCafferty
"The Tipping Point" by Malcom Gladwell
"Where the Sidewalk Ends" by Shel Silverstein
"Wuthering Heights" by Emily Bronte
"Me Talk Pretty One Day" by David Sedaris
"Naked" by David Sedaris
"Dry" by Augusten Burroughs
"Magical Thinking" by Augusten Burroughs
"A Sad State of Freedom" by Nazim Hikmet (a poem)
"The Catcher in the Rye" by J.D. Salinger
"The Hunger Games Trilogy" by Suzanne Collins
"Eleanor and Park" by Rainbow Rowell
"Cherry" by Mary Karr
"The Jolly Postman" by Allan Ahlberg and Janet Ahlberg (a children's book)
"The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho

Adulthood: Mama Needs a Clean Pair of Underwear

I need to get this off my chest.  It's shameful, embarrassing and yet I feel the need to share it with someone. Perhaps I need some sort of validation that I'm not crazy or alone. Ok, here it goes.  Sometimes I wear bathing suit bottoms as underwear because I don't have any clean laundry.  Sadly I am a 31 year old, mother of two, working at an Ivy League institution and at times I wear bikini bottoms under my clothing.  What is wrong with me?!

As I'm confessing this, I wonder at what point in my life, if at any, will I reach a point where I don't do things like this. I would have thought that I’d have outgrown this type of behavior by now.  But, desperation sets in and it seems better than going commando.  

It's a miracle I even have bikini bottoms because there is no way in hell I would be caught dead in a two- piece bathing suit (thank you very much stretch marks that could be mistook for 3rd degree burns).  But I digress... 

I guess the real reason I bring this up is because lately I’ve been contemplating the true measure of an adult. When do you leave behind certain adolescent/juvenile behaviors and become a real grown up?

Growing up I had notions of what being an adult and parent actually meant.  Adults/parents are responsible, boring, even tempered, clever, etc.  They never swear, don't do drugs and seem to have the answers to all of the world’s problems.  At least that’s what I thought.  So it follows that I assumed that once I made that passage from childhood to adulthood (for me I assumed it was when I became a parent), than I too would miraculously become a stand up citizen who confidently charges through the world balancing family life with career and enjoying an enriching and RESPONSIBLE existence.  Unfortunately, this didn't quite work out the way I thought it was going to.  Below are five things that I thought would change once I became a adult and mother.  

The Foundations of Hate

I hate ketchup, quinoa, books by Orwell, Cracker Barrel restaurants and Bill O'Reilly. On a real bad day I hate everyone.  And now, my two-year old son hates bananas. He didn't always hate bananas. In fact, in the past I would have gone so far to say that he loved bananas. He would eat them with gusto. Whether plain, on toast, or in fruit salads, he really enjoyed them. He would even request them without prompt,

"Mommy, can I have a banana?"

What kid asks for fruit? Why not a chocolate chip cookie?

So, you can imagine my shock the other day when I handed him a bagel with mushed bananas on it, and he pushed it away as he told me,

"I hate bananas."

At first I assumed I misheard him. He's only two and his speech is understandably indecipherable at times. Nevertheless, I was sure there was no possible way he actually said he hated bananas. A two-year old doesn’t comprehend hate. So I pressed on and tried to hand him his plate again. This time he responded more vehemently,

"I don't want it. I HATE bananas!"


Despair. Now there was no denying what he said. So I said to him,

"Sweetie, what do you mean?"

Even though he used the word, I knew it must be a fluke that he used it in the proper context.

His response to me,

"I don't like them!"

His tone indicated that I obviously have inferior mental capabilities. I even think I caught him rolling his eyes. The subtext was clear, “Duh Ma, what do you think I mean when I say hate?”


I know toddlers are notorious for repeating things and most of the time it's things that you wish they wouldn’t. But his use of this particular word and the fact that he said it with such fervor and disdain, made me want to crawl up into a ball and cry. Am I being dramatic? Yes. But in that moment I realized hate had been added to his arsenal of vocabulary words, and it was also clear he had a firm grasp of its definition.  Most alarmingly, I realized I was the source, the teacher.

I generally consider myself a tolerant and kind-hearted person. I’ve always been accepting of all people regardless of age, race, sexuality, and ethnicity. In fact, I made a career out of emphasizing the importance of learning about other cultures, understanding other people. That being said, when it comes to strong opinions, when I dislike something, my knee jerk reaction is to say I hate it. I say it without pause, without reflection.  It spews out of my mouth easily and freely. And though I’ve attempted to curb swear words since the birth of my children, I never gave thought to my usage of hate.

Some people may think I am overreacting, and perhaps I am. I hope so. But I can’t help but think that perhaps I’ve laid the seedlings of hate and intolerance in my son’s psyche. First it’s bananas, but what’s next? Will he hate classmates if they don’t share the ball on the playground? Will he hate Mrs. Smith if she gives him a B instead of an A? Can hate metastasize? Who’s to say where it begins and ends?

I learned an important lesson the other day. I definitely need to restrict my use of the word hate, but I also need to reflect on my use of it. Do I really hate things and people? Hate is a strong word. Hate has caused world wars, genocide and entire social movements. It certainly can’t and shouldn’t be taken lightly. Upon further examination I realize that I don’t particularly like ketchup, quinoa, books by Orwell, Cracker Barrel restaurants and Bill O'Reilly. But I don’t hate them. And to tell you the truth, on most days I even like everybody and everything. Now that’s something I hope I can pass on to my son.

The Pursuit of Happiness and Writing

Hi Everyone!  My name is Jess and I have been meaning to write this blog post for a couple of months now.  You see, a few months ago I had an epiphany, a 'come to Jesus moment' when I decided that I wasn't living the life I wanted to live.  I was feeling unfulfilled in my job and needed a creative outlet. My overall discontent was taking a toll on my soul.  So, after hours of quiet meditation, some bitching and moaning and lots of tears, I decided if I wanted a change in my life than I was the only one who could make it happen and I had to do it now!  Essentially I needed to quit whining and start living the life I wanted to live.

This led me to assess my true passion in life.  Deep down I have always known what that is, but had buried it under the drudgery of everyday life.  My passion, my true calling is writing.  For some reason (which I will delve into at another time), I never realized I could actually make a life and career out of writing.  It was always a hobby, a guilty pleasure.  It was something I did but never really shared with people.  But, during my life reassessment I decided that writing is my sustenance.  It is the fuel to my fire.  I decided that I needed to pursue it at all costs. 

In order to transition from closeted writer to published author, I realized I had to do a lot of homework.  So I went to the library and feverishly started reading books about getting published, becoming an author, etc. etc.  One book in particular that served as a great motivation and virtual kick in the pants was "How to Become A Famous Writer Before Your Dead: Your Words in Print and Your Name in Lights", by Ariel Gore.  I highly recommend it for anyone who wants to truly pursue writing and to get published.  Her insights were eye opening and her advice invaluable.  

Anyway, I'm getting off track.  Basically after doing quite a bit of research about the path to getting published, I decided that I was going to chronicle my pursuits on this here blog.  It was going to serve as a platform to share the trials and tribulations of my journey to becoming a published author.  That was approximately three months ago and I'm only today writing my first blog post.  The reason?  Life and writing got in the way and I mean that in the best way possible!  I went full force sending out queries, book proposals, entered writing contests, etc.  And guess what happened?  People actually responded to me.   

When I was searching for publishers that would accept unsolicited book proposals for children's books, I came across an amazing publisher:  Quirk Books.  I'm sure you have read one of their books at one time or other.  Well, Quirk doesn't publish children’s books, but I did notice that they encourage unsolicited proposals and actually enjoy slush!  That led me to sending them a book proposal that I thought they might be interested in.  It wasn’t what I had intended on pursuing for my first foray into the publishing world, but I thought it would be up their alley.  Well, within a week I got a response and they said they were intrigued and wanted to see some samples. Hallelujah!  Amen, it's a miracle! 
I wasn't expecting any response, never mind one so quickly.  Fast forward a couple of weeks later... They ultimately weren't interested in pursuing my idea further.  However, their kindness and feedback gave me the validation I needed to continue my writing pursuits.  They helped me realize that perhaps people may in fact be interested in what I have to write.  They confirmed that I could actually capture the attention of a legitimate publishing company!

From that point on I have been feverishly pursuing other leads, ideas and projects.  Most recently I submitted a short story to the Spark Anthology Contest.  I entered the McSweeney's Column Contest. I sent poems to the New Yorker. I wrote a blog entry and pitched it to the Huffington Post and submitted a snippet to my local newspaper (which they subsequently published).  I'm now looking for an illustrator to illustrate two childrens' books that I penned last month.  I want to self publish them.

It really has been a whirlwind and amazing journey thus far.  I feel like I have the momentum that I need to keep persevering.  I may not have entered the big leagues of publishing but I now feel validated in my quest to pursue my passion.  It’s like I have been magically granted permission to pursue what I want out of life and it’s invigorating. 

I know it’s not going to be easy and there are probably going to be more downs than ups and more rejections than acceptances.  But that’s ok.  So come join me on this wild ride and help me avoid the slush pile!

*Note:  This blog is not a showcase in editing.   It is mainly a place for me to record my thoughts about my writing pursuits and therefore I'm going to try not to stress about or put overemphasis on proper punctuation and grammar.  I'll save that for my submissions.  Thanks!