Paris Recap: From a Writer's Notebook

 I've been doing a lot of reflecting lately. Some of it is required for my May Term: typing up my Paris journals, trying to fit my experiences into concise paragraphs. Some of it is personal: A letter-writing project my friend and I are embarking in our year apart (she's studying abroad next semester, I'm studying abroad in the spring). Either way, there are times I wish I could bottle memories rather than sifting them through my brain and onto the page. Understanding events in your life takes perspective, which often requires distance and time. The problem is, the longer I wait, the fuzzier the memories become. Over the past few days I've been re-reading everything I wrote in Paris: journal entires, notes, lists, and observations. I'll be sharing my thoughts on other aspects of Paris here in the coming weeks (I promise), but for now I want to share with you some of the things I wrote while I was abroad.

My Favorite Things About Paris: (an ongoing list that I added to throughout the trip)

- Little French children in a adorable outfits

- Accordion players on the Metro

- Old man on a scooter in a maroon colored pinstripe suit and rainbow socks

- Colorful doors that lead to secret places

- Gigantic roses (seriously, though)

On Shakespeare and Company:

I am sitting in the reading room of Shakespeare and Company. The window is open and jazz music wafts in from below. The floor is a mess of hexagonal tiles and the room itself, not to mention the whole building, feels a little like it could topple at any moment. A white cat doses on one of the only unoccupied chairs. In the hallways just outside of the reading room there is a cubby hole where people can leave notes. This place feels timeless, or rather like it makes time stand still. You walk into the bookstore and you have entered a world where the only thing that matters is the written word, where words are literally holding up the walls. It is a bit dingy, crowded, and cramped, but I would expect nothing less. For being in the center of a major tourist district, it still feels remarkably isolated. As I write this the bells of Notre Dame are ringing...

On Versailles:

My first impression of Versailles, similar to most people, was the gold. Gold detailing is everywhere, and not just in the Hall of Mirrors. The gold on the front of the building is almost blinding, which seems only fitting considering Louis XIV was known as the "Sun King." The next thing I noticed was the lushness of the fabrics. Everything is so ornate, and every single surface is covered. I found it really interesting how none of the rooms were fully private spaces. Even the bedrooms were places where people could gather, with only a railing separating the king's bed from the rest of the room. My favorite part of Versailles, and the part that put the whole rest of the chateau in perspective, was the Grand Trianon and Marie Antoinette's hamlet. Both of these spaces felt completely different from the palace. They were quieter and smaller, with less abundance of gold and ornate decoration. They were still beautiful spaces fit for royalty, but I felt like I could breath there. If the chateau in the 18th century was anywhere near as crowded as the modern-day palace crawling with tourists, I know that the Grand Trianon and the hamlet would have been a welcome change from all the suffocating grandeur of Versailles.

On Paris in general:

My favorite places in Paris are the quiet ones: the old roman arena, the churches, the little courtyards I stumble across, the reading room in Shakespeare and Company. Even in a bustling city it is so comforting to know that around every corner is the possibility of seeing a church or a garden that I can slip into. It is as if the whole city is built around these contemplative spaces, and they are inviting you to sit and ponder or read or draw. When I see someone bent over their phone in a Paris garden it breaks my heart. 

A poem I wrote for class. I'll probably end up revising it, but here it is in its original state, as it was scribbled in my notebook:

Ode to an Old Man in Rainbow Socks

Paris is the old man in rainbow socks

that I saw weaving between traffic on a scooter

perfectly at ease in the ever-changing geometry

of the street. His pinstripe suit, the color of wine,

is perfect and unwrinkled.

On the metro I examine the feet of strangers

ankles bare or woolen, bumpy or smooth.

We are in a submarine and the old man

is a maroon fish, his helmet glittering like a single eye.

At 5pm the light slants, as though the city

were a glass of water, tilted and held up to the sun.

Blink, and the light shatters on the stone

floor of the cathedral.

Blink, and the city smells of rain and roses.

The sun warms your neck but you hair is already drenched.

Blink, and the man in the rainbow socks kicks off

from the pavement, a whirl of color at his feet.

Blink, and the city is itself again --

the smell of cigarettes

your bag digging into your shoulder

your hair damp with rain

From a Writer's Notebook (New Orleans) + The #ThankAWriter Project

Unfortunately the surprise giveaway items are not quite ready, so that will have to wait until my next post, but in the meantime I thought I'd share a few more thoughts from my trip to New Orleans. Here, in case you are interested, are excerpts from my notebook:

"We started the day with beignets. Cafe Du Monde was understandably crowded, people jostling for space at the tiny round tables on the sprawling patio. The beignets themselves were buried under snowy mountains of powdered sugar. We sipped coffee quietly, trying not to breathe when we bit into them, for fear of blowing powdered sugar at each other."

"Faulkner House Books is almost unnoticeable from the outside. It blends in to the alleyway, and has only a small sign and a historical marker as advertisement. Inside the books go all the way up to the ceiling. On the walls that aren't covered in bookshelves there are autographed portraits and letters from writers like Hemingway,  Flannery O'Connor, even Harper Lee. Standing here, where William Faulkner lived for ten months while he wrote his first novel, feels a little like standing on sacred ground. I try to imagine the French Quarter of the 1920's, and my mind can almost conjure the image. But then I step back out onto the street, into the chilly shade of the alleyway, and I am once again faced with the New Orleans of today."

I hope you enjoyed those! The next thing I want to talk about is Nathan Bransford's #ThankAWriter project, in which you write a hand-written letter to the author (or authors) who made a difference in your life. I've always been a huge proponent of thanking the authors who inspired you in some way, which is why I absolutely LOVE this idea. And the thing is, it's not a new concept. People have been writing letters to their favorite authors for as long as books and hand-written communication have been a prominent part of society. These days conventional fan mail is dying out and being replaced by quick  notes on author's twitter or Facebook accounts. While electronic methods are convenient, they don't begin to match the weight that receiving a real letter has. Authors deserve to recognized for their hard work, and even more, they deserve to know that they've touched someone in some way. Over the next few weeks I hope to write several letters to authors who have inspired me, and I hope you will, too. Details on the project can be found by clicking here.

If you've written your own letters I'd love it if you would share them in the comments, or simply spread the word about this initiative. Also, stay tuned for more giveaway news!

From a Writer's Notebook: Old Photographs and Toxic Language Dumps

My typewriter and my notebook make a lovely pair

One of the first series of posts I did on this blog was about my obsession with notebooks. A short recap of those posts is as follows: I have way too many notebooks for my own good. The From a Writer's Notebook series was a later attempt to get me writing in my notebooks more often and sharing with you what many writers don't: the everyday notes and observations that go into their notebooks. While these posts haven't been as frequent as I hoped, I thought I would use 2013 as an opportunity to start fresh. So without further ado, here are some of things that have been going into my notebook lately:

 First there's this picture. I found it in a pile of other old photographs at an antique store called Uncommon Objects in Austin, Tx. There is so much interesting stuff there and I just know it all has a story. The inscription at the bottom of this photo says "St. Louis, MS. 1925." I guess I bought it because I had so many questions about it. Who is this woman, and why is she all dressed up? Is she going to a wedding, or a house party, or maybe a picnic? Whose idea was it to take the picture next to those hedges? How did it end up at this antique store? The list goes on. I wasn't planning to keep it tucked between the pages of my notebook but that's where it ended up and that's where it's staying (until I find a better place for it, that is.)

 Next up, the Toxic Language Dump. I wrote this down during my creative writing class while my teacher was reading a passage from The Poet's Companion. Here's what I wrote down: "Poetry, which deals not in cliched, worn out expressions, but in new ones that reveal something not before seen in that way." And then, underneath it: "BE THOUGHTFUL" and a drawing of the Toxic Language Dump sign. If I'm remembering correctly, the Toxic Language Dump is the place where all the overused expressions and cliches are kept (or go to die, if you prefer). I remember really liking this idea, and I'm glad I have something in my notebook to remind me of it.

Also on this page I've written several quotes from the poetry we've read in class:
"his beard like matted sea grass"- "Feared Drowned" by Sharon Olds
"fog hanging like old coats between the trees"- "Oranges" by Gary Soto

Finally, I'm going to share with you another temporary installation in my notebook. The index cards in this picture are my notes for a two minute presentation that I had to do on the poem "Aunt Jennifer's Tigers" for English. Like the photograph, I'm not sure how long they'll stay in my notebook, but I like looking them over occasionally, just to remind myself about the things I've been learning recently.

I hope you've enjoyed this glimpse into my notebook, and I plan to do more posts like this in the future. Obviously I can't share with you everything I write, but it feels good to let people into my creative space once in a while. The thing about chronicling things like this is that you don't know if any of it will ever be useful to you. Some people use that as an excuse not to keep a notebook, but to me that's all the more reason to continue writing things down.

Do you keep a notebook? What's the last thing you wrote in it?

From a Writer's Notebook: Justin Cronin on Writing

As many of you know, I was in Austin last weekend for the Texas Book Festival. I'll be giving you a full recap soon, but for now I wanted to tell you about one of the best events that we went to: A Talk with Justin Cronin.

For those of you who haven't heard of Justin, here's a quick bio (from Goodreads): Justin Cronin is an American novelist. Awards he's won for his fiction include the PEN/Hemingway Award, the Stephen Crane Prize, and the Whiting Writer's Award.
Born and raised in New England, Cronin is a graduate of Harvard University and the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. He currently lives with his wife and children in Houston, Texas where he is Professor of English at Rice University.

His newest and most popular books are The Passage and The Twelve, which most of the audience members had already read.

Me reading while waiting for Justin to arrive

We arrived outside of the House Chamber forty-five minutes before the start of the session and the line was already out the door, down the hall, and snaking around the balcony of the rotunda. My dad and I chatted with a nice elderly lady about books, e-readers, and the digital age, before heading in to find our seats. I was a little worried all the good ones would be taken, but thankfully we were still able to find some near the front.

After another long wait made less boring by the one book I let myself buy at the $5 dollar book tent (more on that later), Justin Cronin and the moderator, Owen Egerton, finally took the stage. Hearing Justin Cronin speak is like listening to a really inspiring teacher. From the moment he began talking I could tell that was passionate about writing, generous with knowledge, and all around an extremely intelligent person. His words were captivating. From the excerpt that he read from his new novel, The Twelve, to his jokes about being a literary nerd, I couldn't help but notice his talent for roping the audience in with a good story.

Left to Right: Justin Cronin, Owen Egerton 

One of the best things about Justin's talk (aside from the surprisingly firm: "Sit down!" he gave to a questioner from the audience who accidentally let slip a spoiler), was his abundant advice about writing. His eloquently stated tips were sprinkled throughout the session, and I found myself compulsively taking notes. Here are just the ones I managed to jot down:

• In response to a question about his own literary influences, he said, "Don't pretend for a second that you are inventing the novel." He mentioned the importance of reading and also talked about the literary references in both The Passage and The Twelve.
• Developing a story is like playing jazz riffs. The music may veer off and become almost unrecognizable, but there is always some hint of the central melody that leads the listener through the song.  In the same way, novels can be large and all encompassing, but they should have a main story arc that is always present.
• On creating characters: "Know the one thing they are not telling anyone else."
• When asked wether or not he keeps the market in mind while writing, he said that the most important thing is to be as interesting as possible. You can only write so many autobiographical stories before readers start to get bored.
• On titles: "If you don't know your title, you don't know your book." He also mentioned that he likes titles that have multiple meanings in the context of the story.
• Finally, the most profound piece of advice (for me) was his words on failure: "Most writing is failure, so by all means, be willing to write an interesting failure."

Overall the Texas Books Festival was a great experience, and Justin Cronin was the highlight of my weekend. I hope to do a more expansive recap soon, but until then, happy writing!

Travel Log: 30,000 Ft, 6:40 am

I am writing this from an airplane headed for Chicago. Actually our final destination is Cleveland, Ohio, but we are switching planes in Chicago. I’ll be visiting two colleges, Kenyon and Oberlin, and I thought it would be interesting to document the people and places that I encounter. So, I guess think of this series as one long “From a Writer’s Notebook” post. I hope you enjoy reading about my adventures!

This morning my parents dragged me out of bed at 3:45 am. I had a bagel and iced chia tea for breakfast, and then it was out the door and off to the airport. I find airports fascinating, especially when you are there early in the morning or late at night. You can always tell who’s having a bad day, who didn’t get enough sleep the night before (seems like that applies to everyone these days), who’s traveling for business, sporting events, musical gigs, or just for fun. Even with the constant activity, airports have always seemed like large, lonely places to me. Everyone’s detached, all of them going separate ways. I like to imagine them completely empty: no security, no coffee/gift shop employees, no bag checkers, flight attendants, maintenance workers, or passengers. With people, airports are really just buildings you walk through to get from one place to the next. Without people, they are just empty shells with only a vague memory that anyone passed through at all.

This morning however, the airport was crowded with interesting people. A few of the characters I saw were:

- A twenty-something who was dressed in a sweater, black skinny jeans, and leather boots. She was carrying a broad rimmed black hat, and a vintage leather bag. Her hair was done up in a cylinder-like shape  on the top of her head, and she had an air that said, “I’m anything but mainstream.”

- A middle aged man in a white v-neck and khaki shorts, with a gold chain around his neck. He was talking on his phone and I overheard him say, “If I get a chance to go to the LAX candy store, what did Sarah say she wanted? I’ve already forgotten.”

- A mom with two bright pink suitcases, a pink outfit, and a little girl dressed in pink, too.

- An Asian woman boarding the plane with a musical instrument case under her arm. 

When our plane took off it was 6am, and the world was still dark. We rose above Houston and the lights stretched out beneath us like stars. Now it’s almost 8 o’ clock, the sun is up, and according to the pilot we’ll be landing in Chicago shortly. 

From a Writer's Notebook: Personal Histories

Yesterday my dad brought home this little booklet from the Texas State Historical Association Conference, and it got me thinking. First I thought about my own history- all the big events: trips, awards, deaths, births, and the little things: the way the light streams through our sunroom window every morning, the rich flavor of the Chai Tea lattes at my favorite coffee shop, all the times my stomach hurt from laughing so much. Over the years I've tried to record both kind of events. I have two journals that chronicle my life (sporadically) since the 6th grade. And while my journal writing has decreased significantly, especially once high school started, at least I have something, which more than a lot of people can say. 

A journal is a good thing for a writer to have. Our first assignment in our Creative Writing class this year was to write a personal essay. Our teacher said it was because we had to know how to tell a story from our own life before we could tell someone else's. I think this holds especially true in today's world, where everyone expects instant gratification, and some new writers think they can jump into a character's fictional world before taking a long look at their own. Journaling allows us to go back to our best and worst moments, and makes us wonder how we could have been so worried about something that was really pretty small in the grand scheme of things. All of this puts our earlier thoughts and actions into perspective, and allows us to pull better ideas from our own lives.

Despite popular belief, I think that blogging is not the same as journaling. A blog is sort of like a journal, but unless it's extremely personal (in which case maybe you should reconsider posting it on the internet), it doesn't quite compare to holding a journal in your hands and seeing pages filled with your handwriting. Maybe that's just me being old fashioned. As much as I love blogging, I also long for the feel paper under my pen. So I write journal entries and letters to pen pals and occasionally type on typewriters. There is something wonderfully tactile about it that a blank screen just can't compete with. 

So, I encourage you to go out and find a journal (Yay! Notebook shopping!) and take a few minutes to write something about your day. It could be what you had for breakfast this morning. It could be a description of your best friend. It could be the nagging thing at the back of your mind thats been worrying you for weeks. Whatever it is, write it down. It may seem trivial now, even boring. But years from now, when you are reading over your old entries, it will feel like a life well lived.

ps. I'm not sure if this really fits into the "From a Writer's Notebook" category, but it seems to me as good a place to start as any. More from this series to come!

New Series: From a Writer's Notebook

I have always been an observer of things. I suppose it's a quality found in most writers, but I think it is one of our most important tools. It is where we get our ideas. It where we learn what truth is, so that we can better inject truth into our writing. Of course we can't keep all the things we observe in our heads all the time, so we write them down. I was given my first Moleskine notebook for Christmas, and it has been a valuable tool for capturing the little gems of inspiration that the universe throws at me. Often, when I don't have my notebook with me for whatever reason, I feel a little helpless and I find myself searching for any scraps of paper and writing utensils I can find, just in case I need to write something down. In this way, my writer's brain is always tuned in to the things around me, even when my regular self may be trying to stay awake in math class.


I am fascinated by the things that make my writer's brain tick. That's why I am introducing a new series of posts to my blog. In these posts I will share some of the things I found interesting enough to write down in my notebook, and examine why these things in particular caught my attention. Some other things these posts might cover are:

• How to be more observant
• Less traditional ways of filling up your notebooks
• When to write a lot and when to simply jot down a few words
• What to do if someone notices you writing down what they're saying
• Etc!

Anyway, I hope you will enjoy the new series, and as always, feel free to share pieces from your own writer's notebook in the comments!