I am rip-roaringly sick right now. Congestion, coughing, sneezing, queasiness, exhaustion, aches. It must be my body’s effort to make up for all the cool things my mind wants to do.

You know what, body? I’m doing them anyway.

On Friday, I went to the release party for the latest issue of Consequence (in which my story, “1964: Berkeley,” appears, many thanks to their editors, especially Catherine Parnell). At said party, we screened some shorts produced by Community Supported Films, which included some troubling documentaries about life in Afghanistan. I found–as I often do when watching foreign films–that things are both the same and different than I expect them to be. In Bearing the Weight, a woman who lost a leg and her husband during a rocket attack has to deal with being disabled in a place where discrimination is already so prevalent. As if that weren’t harrowing enough, the footage that showed her leg revealed that she hadn’t been properly mended, so to speak, but also that the doctors felt it was good enough. Malpractice knows no societal bounds.

I went to the fin-de-semestre Write on the DOT reading and met some lovely local writers. Aaron Devine, one of the series co-founders, announced that WotD has a collection out for their one-year anniversary: a bargain at $3. Get ‘em while they’re hot off the presses.

I’m about to delve into the final round of edits for my short story “Extensions,” due out from Little Fiction in 32 days. When I’m done, you’ll get to read it as a little ebook, which I think is a great way to highlight short stories as stand-alone pieces.

I’m also soon to take another pass at my novel-in-progress, Conjoined States. There’s honestly too much to say about that, so I’ll leave you with this: I need to have fifty pages in shape in the next three weeks so I can send them off to Wesleyan as my manuscript-which-I’d-like-to-get-feedback-on-please-(and-thanks). I’m hoping to offer the first fifty pages, though I’ve never been one for editing in order so, more realistically, I just want to get the draft in good shape. I want my protagonist and I to settle on a plan and move from there. He’s talking to me intermittently lately and I’m giving him as much attention as I can currently spare.

Distractions from that include the Mere tour, which has blossomed to include a date in Virginia and may continue growing to encompass Baltimore as well. We’ll have to wait and see.

Until then, I point you to my last post, wherein I linked to the book trailer I made for Mere. Thoughts and feedback, as always, are welcome.

On that note, I’m off to wrap my face in a pillow–and to all a good night.

For those of you who are interested, here’s a link to the currently unlisted book trailer (meaning you can’t find it if you search for it online), and here are the reasons why I chose to use the footage I did.

1/We begin with a shot of a dictionary. Mere (the protagonist) is a lexicographer. A lexicographer compiles dictionaries.

2/The first headword we see is father (headwords are found at the top of a dictionary page and serve as guides for the words that can be found on that page). A large part of the book deals with Mere’s strained relationship with her father.

3/A hand appears to flip through the dictionary and then point us to another headword: paralysis. Mere suffers from facial palsy. She feels attached to paralysis, as a term. This comes across via the excerpt I read in the voice over.

4/As for the motion itself, we start with father and move to paralysis, mimicking the pacing of the first chapter, wherein we start with information about her father and move to information about her paralysis.

5/Thereafter, the same clip plays in reverse. This serves two purposes.

5a/The plot is non-linear. We move back and forth to show Mere in the present (paralyzed and estranged from her father) to the past (not paralyzed and still speaking to her father).

5b/Mere’s father has been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s. Just as the book and trailer move backward, so will his memory.

6/The clip plays again. A re-reversal returning us to “real time.” When the pages start flipping forward, we hear the word “four words” in the voice over. I can’t resist a homonym.

7/Regarding sound, the trailer begins in silence (other than the flipping pages), after which follows the voice over, “I tossed away my hours on silent text,” which is exactly what we’ve been watching.

Let me know what you think.

To celebrate that daunting notion, I’ll be reading/signing copies of the book in the following places on the following days:

Brooklyn, NY – WORD – Tuesday, June 26, 7pm
Bethlehem, PA – Moravian Bookshop – Saturday, July 14, 1-3pm
Brookline, MA – Brookline Booksmith (with Jill McDonough) – Tuesday, July 17, 7pm

More events are sure to follow, but those are the definite ones for now. If you’re having an event and you’d like to include me in it, let me know! I’m willing to travel within all of New England and some of the mid-Atlantic states. The official release date of the book is June 30, so after that, I’m all yours.

Until then, my short story, “1964, Berkeley” (the second installment of “The Daughters,” which is the section that precedes “Sacramento, 2006″) is in the latest issue of Consequence. And I’m happy to say I have three flash pieces coming out in the next issue of TRNSFR, which is a slick art mag that highlights the way written work is also visual art (a practice of which I’m always a fan). Very much looking forward to seeing the issue.

And, the most exciting news in a post filled with exciting news, I received notice today that I’ve been awarded a Wesleyan Scholarship to attend the Wesleyan Writers’ Conference June 14-June 17. Not only does that mean I get to spend a good portion of time just working on my novel, but also that I’m headed in the right direction with it (they had to read an excerpt in order for me to be accepted). Also, the last time I was in Connecticut (other than all the times I’ve passed through on my way to somewhere else), it was 2003 and I was doing research on Hartford for my first novel.

One last also–going to WWC means I get to meet Amy Bloom.

!!

I lied. One more also: here’s a video I made that belies my excitement. But please know that I am, in fact, very excited.

Many artists are workaholics. We love to work on things–revise, revise, revise: rework, rephrase, recycle. As long as we’re always working on something, we’ll always seem productive.

However, the root of production is product.

Eventually, we have to finish whatever it is we’re working on.

I don’t assume to speak for all artists, but I go through periods wherein I hate everything I’ve ever written/made/done. I believe that I’m only as good as the last thing I’ve finished, which means if I write something that I think is really great, that feeling of accomplishment will wear away if/when the next thing I write isn’t up to snuff.

This is a regular occurrence. I’ve figured out how to work around my own disdain.

That said, I’m now running into a different problem: I don’t want my current projects to end. I want to keep working on them and I put off seeing them through to their logical conclusions because those conclusions seem so final.

I think this stems from loneliness, from fear of a lack of any hypothetical ear or eye to hear or read me. When I’m in the thick of things though, I don’t really consider that. It’s just me and the story and the pursuit of its proper conclusion. I guess I just need to return to that thickness, as it were. If only I could figure out how. Until then, here I am, distracting myself with thought processes about my thought processes, when I should be reading or writing.

One in which I recommend that you read John Cotter’s Under the Small Lights because it’s poignant and resonant and changes you, even if only to make you a little more aware of who you are (thanks to Molly Gaudry at The Lit Pub);

one in which I talk about art and math and language (thanks to Brian Warfield at Turtleneck Press/Pachydermini Books);

one in which I tell a story about commuting (thanks to Matt Rowan at Untoward);

and one in which I talk about being a writer and working on long-form projects while also being a full-time undergrad student (thanks to Paul Driskill at Mass Media).

Also, to everyone who has sent submissions to apt in the past month, you’ve overwhelmed us! Literally! We’ve closed submissions for a week just to catch up! Reopening on April 2. See you then!

I’m really happy to have a piece with Precipitate because of their focus on art that concerns environment/place. “Sacramento, 2006″ deals with the emotional/mental environment we relegate ourselves to when we live for our parents (even after they’re dead) and children (even before they’re born).

And, if you like it, you’ll be happy to know that it’s the last section of a three-part story entitled, “The Daughters.” The second part, called “1964: Berkeley,” will be in the next issue of Consequence, due out in the next month or so.

Until then, check out “Sacramento, 2006.” If you want, I’ll even read it to you. Just follow the link and press play.

JUNE:
“Extensions,” a short story about memory and family and one’s responsibility to both — forthcoming from Little Fiction, June 9

“Excerpt from The Mere Weight of Words,” which is exactly what it sounds like, forthcoming from The Collagist, June 15

The Mere Weight of Words, a novella about linguistics and imposter syndrome and paralysis both emotional and physical, forthcoming from Aqueous Books, June 30 ($14)

APRIL:
“1964: Berkeley,” an excerpt from a longer story called “The Daughters,” forthcoming in the next issue of Consequence, which is due out in the next month or so ($12…don’t quote me on that price)

APRIL-ISH:
“I’m a Stranger Here Myself,” a short story about trains and crowds and independence, forthcoming from Untoward sometime in the spring

TOMORROW:
“Sacramento, 2006,” another excerpt from a longer story called “The Daughters,” in Precipitate, Vol 3, issue 2.

NOW:
“The Dual,” a short story about love and math, part of the Pachydermini Book Series from Turtleneck Press ($2) (also forthcoming, an interview–how nice!)

Links will appear as soon as I know them.

Also, another interview as soon as I have time to properly talk about it.

And an article that Jhumpa Lahiri wrote about the importance of the sentence.

And my thoughts on cover art.

And AWP.

And I’m tired.

Goodnight.

There’s a new(ish) lit journal called Untoward and it’s run by Matt Rowan, who contacted me today to accept my short story, “I’m a Stranger Here Myself.” (NB: I’ll send a note sealed with a kiss to the person who can name that showtune reference without looking it up.) That will also go up somewhere in the nebulous region that is April.

I’m excited to have work forthcoming from so many places I like. It makes me feel like I’m making progress.

Speaking of, the first venue for my mini-tour for The Mere Weight of Words is nearly confirmed. And a couple of others are in the works. I’ll let you know when they’re 100% official.

In other publication news, I’ve got a teeny-tiny book forthcoming from Turtleneck Press. It’s approximately 600 words (less than eight pages) and 2.5″ x 3″. It’s called “The Dual” and will come out in about a month. I’m looking forward to following whatever Turtleneck puts out because I like the idea of single-serving stories, as it were. Details on how to buy the book as soon as I’ve got them.

Also, the project I spent most of January working on is finally finished: the second print issue of apt. The copies are here and ready and you can buy one of your very own. Semi-related, we’re starting to post the supplementary material online, beginning today with Julie Baber’s audio recording of her poem, “Not Quite Stars.” Julie’s voice is like caramel, so you should spend a few hours with this on loop.

And one final jot–the release party for apt v2i2 is two weeks from today! If I were the sort to abuse the exclamation point, I’d stick that thing in my mouth. But I’m not, so you’ll just have to pretend. Okay, let’s focus. Lorem Ipsum Books. apt, issue two. February 18. 7pm. See you there, Boston.

With no further ado, here are all the fruits-of-my-labor events occurring in the near future:

Literary Firsts is tomorrow night! You should be there so we can all start 2012 in literary style! Michael Hoerman! Matthew Salesses! Terri Trespicio! Liam Day! Me!! Middlesex Lounge! 7pm!

We’re plotting a party to celebrate the second print issue of apt! Lorem Ipsum Books is generously hosting us on Saturday, February 18. The readers already on deck include: Sam Cha, Lindsay Coleman, Shannon Derby, J.F. Lynch, Dolan Morgan, Randolph Pfaff, and me! Hoping to cajole Breonna Krafft, Robin E. Mørk, Julie Baber, David Bartone, and Gillian Devereux into joining as well. Either way, we’re all going to make literary babies and then read them to each other.

Speaking of babies, I’m going to attend my very first AWP at the end of February/beginning of March. We’ll be invading Chicago’s Innertown Pub on Thursday, March 1 to host a reading for even more apt contributors, all of whom I’m ridiculously excited to meet, like Thomas Mundt, Tom Nowak, N. A’Yara Stein, Courtney Cullinan Robb, and Russ Woods. And I’m dragging a slew of Bostonians into the mix: the aforementioned Shannon Derby, Gillian Devereux, and Randolph Pfaff, as well as the always lovely Vincent Scarpa. Ex-cited.

On a more solitary note, I’m incredibly pleased to have a story in the forthcoming issue of Consequence. It’s entitled “1964, Berkeley” and it’s the second part of a longer story called “The Daughters,” which has changed dramatically since I started writing it in 2008. Hoping to find homes for the other two sections soon. I’ll post more information about the issue’s release when I have it.