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October 20, 2004 8:53 PM- weak and wussy

How honest can I be?

I guess the question is, how honest do I want to be?

As a child I was an incorrigible liar-- at least for a couple of years there between 5 and 7, or 8-- maybe 10? (I definitely stopped at some point. I'm sure of it. Or at least, I almost did. Sort of. You know). My mom was pretty wonderful about it and would shut down the next-door neighboor, Mrs. Kravitz, who would call every night to tell my mom all the lies I had spun that day. "Yes, Mrs. Kravitz," she would say. "She is a storyteller."

(Um, the truth? Okay, her name wasn't really Mrs. Kravitz. That was the name of Bewitched's neighbor-- and I adored Bewitched. I loved everything witch-y. My two favorite books were Dorrie and The Blue Witch (by Patricia Coombs) and Little Witch (by Anna Elizabeth Bennett). But I digress.

But you know something? I have had Patricia Coomb's address here on my desk for weeks now--maybe months. I keep thinking I want to send her a letter telling her how much I loved her books and see if she would let me come down to meet her and maybe interview her. If you try to find anything out about her-- there's basically nothing. And she is in her late 70s now. Obviously a private person, but still-- maybe she'd like to share some of her life story about being a children's author and illustrator before she leaves this world. But I haven't written the letter. And it's safe to say, I may never.

And this was what I sat down to write about: ways in which I do not explore my creative impulses particularly with regard to my writing. Not to suggest meeting with Patricia Coombs would have anything to do with my writing-- hell if it's anything like my experience of meeting Madeline L'Engle or Margaret Atwood it could really ruin some lovely perceptions I have about her based on her books. Perhaps that is why I don't write the letter--- the best part of authors is often their stories. Leave them their privacy. At least that has been my experience. Except for Tony Hillerman-- he was awesome. Sigh. Stay tuned on that one.

Anyway, clearly I am avoiding the subject I sat down to share. Hmmm, maybe I should tell you about the boeuf bourgingnon I have got percolating on the stove right now . . . that would be a lengthy diversion, for sure.

Well, here goes. On Sunday, T and I were at some friends for a "barn dance"-- sounds horribly hokey, I know, but you know what? The band was terrific and we danced alot (it wasn't country at all-- mostly Little Feet, Reggae, CSN&Y, etc). The food was gorgeous. And the people-- very cool. In fact, I met Katrina Kenison-- you know, the long-time series editor of The Best American Short Stories.

Many moons ago, I was a graduate student at The French School at Middlebury College and hating it. Not the French, which I loved. But the intensity of the level I was at academically-- I once sat through a class where we dissected a four line poem FOR TWO HOURS. FOUR LINES. FOR TWO HOURS. (Yes, having confessed to my affinity for the tall tale, I know you are thinking I am exaggerating and such is the life of the boy who cried wolf-- but it's true.) And I knew this was not for me. And we were not allowed to speak or read or do ANYTHING in English-- so I would go to the library and check out books in English and read them. THAT was a big, exciting night for me in grad school--- get the picture?

So one night I have squirreled away a copy of the Best American Short Stories. I don't know what year it was but it had the story "Lawn" in it by Mona Simpson. And it blew me away. You know. When you see a painting or read a book or have an experience that enflames your core self that you had totally forgotten was even there and you want to die because you are so awake and alive. Up the hill from my dorm room was another branch of the university's grad program -- Bread Loaf. And I knew in that moment definitively that I was in the wrong place-- I could do this work, but it wasn't ever going to tap on my best gifts or make me feel alive. I needed to be at Bread Loaf and I needed to be writing.

And so I did. Bread Loaf was the absolute best experience of my life--- I have never, ever (not even when I'm in Paris-- but that's a close second) felt so in my element. And it had been such a long time in this life up to that point where I always felt so OFF. so OUT. So, can't connect. But there? Oh--- not only did I connect. I shined. (Or is it shone? Hmm, writers don't need to know those things, do they? That's what editors are for).

So--- back to Katrina (who was lovely, by the way). This year's edition is edited by Lorrie Moore and Katrina invited me down to the reading they will be having next week in Cambridge (it's a public event so if you live in the Boston/Cambridge area-- check it out-- at the ART on the 25th (or maybe the 26th?-- not sure about that). Lorrie will be there plus other authors from this year's collection.

But the whole thing just freaked me out. THAT's what I sat down to say. My God. It only took me, what--- 350 words to get to the point? I get so FUCKING intimidated. And small. And squirrelly. And weird. And I don't know when or how I am every going to get out of my own freaking way.

However, I am making progress on Don't Think Twice-- and may even send it out this month. We'll see. I don't know. Maybe I'll read back over this sometime and it will all make sense to me. Right now? I'm rambling--- and my bourgingon is bubbling over. I must go tend to it.

Last thing, seeing as this post is somewhat focused on writing. Has anyone read Madeline is Sleeping, by Sarah Shun-Lien Bynum? If yes, send me an e-mail. It is wildly original and I'd love to talk about it with someone.

got 2 cents?



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stephanie says:
Wait, you met Margaret Atwood?! Get out? Love her!
posted on: October 20

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Erica says:
See, I was going to get all excited about you meeting Madeleine L'Engle, but something in your tone makes me afraid. Was she horrid?
posted on: October 20

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Margaret says:
I am curious too about your experiences with the authors you met--it didn't sound positive! Are you a Tony Hillerman fan? I have read every single one of his books as has my dad. I think he has a new book coming out and I can't wait. He's getting up there, but I hope he has many more years of writing! And you can be as honest as you feel like being...it's your blog and you make of it whatever you will. Pourquoi pas?
posted on: October 21

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nina says:
Oooh, much envy that you met Ms. Kenison. I have been a BASS junkie for many years. And it is intimidating to meet all those famous authors, so don't be so hard on yourself. But I do hope you'll go, and enjoy, and report back!
posted on: October 21

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lizardek says:
Write that letter, bluepoppy, love. What if she is as lovely as her stories and you miss out? (although, I must say, I don't really want any of my illusions about Madeleine L'Engle shattered) Also, why in the world was it named Bread Loaf? *curious*
posted on: October 21

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wussy says:
Ok-- here are my short-takes on the folks I have met--- and let me remind you I am SO judgemental and thin-skinned--- Margaret Atwood - bitch. And can't end a story to save her life. Really, look at the endings of her books. She just can't she does one epilogue after the next . . horrible. Or just can't tie it up. I stopped reading her years ago for that very reason. But that's my opinion of her endings-- her? Nasty. Madeline wasn't nasty, just prickly. Didn't get a lot of warm fuzzies-- but that's not a failing, of course. I still love A Wrinkle in Time and always will. Tony Hillerman was real. Loved him. His best advice was to work in journalism first because then you are skilled at hitting daily deadlines. (He was a journalist for 17 years before he published his first book). I ended up writing for a magazine for 5 years sometime after I met him-- and remembered him saying that cause god, is it true. Develops a great muscle-- even though I hated the magazine work. Yes, Nina-- that's what I wanted to say, but couldn't seem to find the right phrase-- but you nailed it: BASS junkie. Maybe we should start a club? Although I always trash some of the stories chosen, just FYI. Thank you my darling Lizardek for that encouragement---- I hope I do-- if I do, I'll be sure to share.
posted on: October 21

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wee says:
O weirdness. I have a post sitting on my desktop that is kida sorta aboout the same thing and I've been writing it for forever, because no matter which way I twist it, it doesn't quite make sense and it doesn't quite communicate whatever weird sort of self-realization I'm experiencing. sigh. But there is some kind of undercurrent pulling at my soul and it's all about creativity and self-actualizing my dreams and trying to figure out what in the hell is preventing me from JUST DOING IT already.
posted on: October 21

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wee says:
And as a Canadian, I feel I can say this honestly: I think Margret Atwood is so over-rated and I throughly believe she's a bitch. I only wish that Alice Munroe who, in my humble opinion, is fifty times the writer that Margret Atwood is or could ever be, would get more recognition.
posted on: October 21

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stephanie says:
"And as a Canadian, I feel I can say this honestly: I think Margret Atwood is so over-rated and I throughly believe she's a bitch." I could say the same about many an American writer. Don't think it's limited to nationality. Please leave me with my innocence. La la la la, can't hear this! (covering my ears)
posted on: October 21

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nina says:
Oh yes, a BASS club, and of *course* some of the chosen stories must be trashed. Because a little bit of envy induced snark is not such a bad thing. Oh, and wee, I agree, Alice Munroe rocks.
posted on: October 22

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Lizard Breath says:
what's that terribly hokey expression about not regretting the things you did, but the things you wished you'd done? same here. of course you should write the letter. and if she turns out to be a lovely person, you're that much richer for knowing it. and if she turns out to be a bitch, well then, you can always "have to wash my hair" out of any further commitment. and your writings will continue to be creative and mah-velous, simply because you are. lizard.
posted on: October 22

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sam says:
Oh, to be bluepoppy! I've always suspected Margaret Atwood would be a tad bitchy, but God I stand in awe of her work. Then I have to go lie down because I'm so depressed - ;) anyway. I can understand Madeleine being a bit prickly, she's an old lady, and maybe she was just tired? All I know is that I wrote a letter to her pouring out my heart, telling her how much her work meant to me, and I got the most beautiful letter back, ever. It's one of my most treasured possessions. But don't let fear hold you back, my fairyblogmother. Write that damn letter! You just never know what could happen!
posted on: October 22

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violetismycolor says:
I have a friend who calls herself Mrs Kravitz cuz she loves to know what everyone is doing...know exactly what you mean...
posted on: October 23

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Amber says:
I say write the letter! What have you got to lose? Most times the reward comes from just doing the act...not the outcome of it.
posted on: October 23

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Katherine says:
you either feel juiced to write it or you don't - don;t you think? . . . do you really want to meet her? would you regret not trying?
posted on: October 23

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Kat says:
PS - did you take your book chapters down for good? do you ever let people who think you are fabulous get a peek at a chapter her and there? I got up to chapter 3 I believe before the hoopla of my living consumed my attention . . . :)
posted on: October 23

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Don says:
Would you please send me Patricia Coombs' address? My wife is a HUGE fan, and would like to send her a note of thanks for all of the books she's written. Thanks!
posted on: February 17

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Mike says:
You are right about trying to find info on Patricia Coombs, have been trying for several days now & found virtually nothing. If possible, could you drop me a line with her address, I would love to drop her a card and thank her for the love of reading her books instilled in me! Thanks
posted on: July 17

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Holli says:
I still have my copy of Dorrie and the Witch Doctor my parents bought for me in 1973. I loved it. LOved it long after I was " too old" to read it. Like you I loved witchy books. Dorrie and the Witch Doctor and The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Speare. Still have that original copy. I have been trying to find an address for Patricica Coombs to send her a thank you card. No need to meet her. Just to thank her. If you feel it would be possible please would you send me her address. Her books and illustrations changed my life. Thanks!
posted on: May 13

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Daniel Coombs says:
I am the great nephew of Patricia Coombs. She will be very pleased that you like her books. I will be sending her a e-mail in the next few days. I have got copies of most all her books.
posted on: January 04

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