Because memoir at its very best is the start of a conversation. It makes its interest in readers explicit, offering not just a series of life events, but a deliberate suggestion of what it is to be a human being – to experience confusion, despair, hope, joy, and all that happens in between. True memoir is a singular life transformed into a signifying life. True memoir is a writer acknowledging that he or she is not the only one in the room.
Category Archives: Writing
the point is being
You see, at my age, after the youth burns out, and the long sweet middle years lie ahead, what happens after the writing is done simply does not matter. The point is the chemical burn itself, the molecular exchange, not what is produced or left behind. The point is being, not having done.
September Toasted Cheese
Toasted Cheese 13:3 is here for your reading pleasure.
I wrote this issue’s Snark Zone, “The Star-Ratings Tango.”
Interview with Janet Mullany at Absolute Blank
This month at Absolute Blank, I interview former TC host and prolific author, Janet Mullany — “Toasted Cheese Success Stories: Interview with Janet Mullany.” (And hey, look, I’m posting about it on the same day it’s published, not 3 weeks later. Go me.)
serial expert
Being a serial expert is actually one of the cool things about the very enterprise of writing: You learn ’em and leave ’em.
four, maybe five hours of pure work
The common advice is, if you are a designer, you should be designing all day. Or making pottery, translating, illustrating, or writing all day.But here in the real world, you should shoot for four, maybe five hours of pure work. That is, writing from scratch, designing from a blank page, translating raw text, building brand new code, illustrating out of thin air.That’s all the human brain can muster. The holics who say they ‘work’ eighteen hours a day aren’t actually ‘working’ all that time. Most of that will be foof like paperwork, email, phone calls, tinkering, fiddling, meetings. Of the ‘real’ work, the devilishly painful work, four hours is all you can do.
For writers who’ve asked: “Why didn’t my sub make the final cut?”
This month at Absolute Blank, I discuss some common reasons shortlisted submissions get chopped: “‘You Shortlisted My Submission… Why Didn’t it Make the Final Cut?'”
$3 a word
Last week, I read this article in The Atlantic: “How Junk Food Can End Obesity” by David H. Freedman. It’s basically an extended rant against people who dare suggest we choose to eat healthier, less-processed foods.
He argues, for instance, that a McDonald’s smoothie is a better choice than a fancy-pants one because it a) takes less time to make, b) contains fewer calories, and c) is cheaper. He does note, however, that the McDonald’s smoothie “contains artificial flavors and texture additives, and … is pre-mixed.” Yum?
(I suggest that if your smoothie consists of ingredients other than milk and fruit and takes longer than 30 seconds to make from scratch, you’re doing it wrong. But that’s just me. I make my own.)
Anyway, that’s not what this is about. That’s just the set-up. This morning I read a critique of that article: “The Atlantic: How junk food can end obesity” by Paul Raeburn. At the end of the critique is this tidbit that caught my attention:
At the going rates for stories in national magazines, Freedman probably was paid around $30,000 for his 10,000-word story.
Is that a typo? Can that be for real? $30k for any 10k story seems… wow. That’s… a lot. I am actually shocked. I guess I’m just used to writers being paid nothing. Or maybe I’ve just been a grad student for too long. I mean, $30k? That’s an annual salary for some people. Just saying. On the one hand, I’m annoyed because the article was silly (good link-bait though, so I guess it’s a win for The Atlantic), but on the other hand, I realize it’s time to stop undervaluing my madwordskillz and time to start aspiring to $3 a word.
the risk that something unfinished will be published
“The peculiarity of being a writer,” [Joan] Didion says, “is that the entire enterprise involves the mortal humiliation of seeing one’s own words in print.” (Just by making this statement Didion clearly inserts herself, the writer, into the story.)
Yet even worse than publication, she says, is the risk that something unfinished will be published.
omg. this. so much this.
Just tried to track down the article this piece is about [Joan Didion, Life and Letters, “Last Words,” The New Yorker, November 9, 1998, p. 74] and was foiled. None of the databases go back far enough (seriously what’s up with databases that only go back to 2002?). Will have to go to the VPL and track down the print version. SFU has its old issues on microfilm. Microfilm! How… 20th century.
ETA: So I actually went to the library and found the old New Yorkers in the stacks, located the right volume, and… some asshat who’s apparently never heard of a photocopier had torn out this essay. #fail
June Toasted Cheese!
Looking for something to read? Check out the June 2013 issue of Toasted Cheese.
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A reminder that I’m still looking for contributions for an upcoming article on writing spaces. Details here.
And… we’d also like to see more writers submitting reviews. See here for details or talk to our reviews editor at the forums. Why write a review? It’s a writing credit to your c.v. (win for you) + support for a fellow writer (win for a toasty-cheesy colleague). Everyone wins!
The Remainder Table 