Responsibilities with a Bookstore and Reviews

Ever since working at my undergrad university's library, I've had a goal of someday working at a bookstore as well. And here I am. And it's great. Exhausting, but great. I'm on my feet all day (which kinda sucks), but I get to work with books and talk to people about books and movies. My coworkers are all nerds/geeks/dorks, as are most of the customers. I've managed to make extra sales just by telling people that something exists, or how awesome something is.

Tonight ends my second week of work. I had a five-day stretch, a four-day weekend, and then a seven-day stretch. Wednesday and Thursday are my weekend days this week. Six days was tiresome, but seven days made me begin to think that this is just how life is: you wake up, you go to work for eight hours, you get home, relax for a few more hours, and go to bed. And repeat. Every day. Without end. Tomorrow, I'll feel odd waking up and not getting ready for work. I'll feel like I should be doing something, though I certainly have other responsibilities.

It's like when cats fall from buildings. I forget the exact numbers, but... within about three stories the cats react to falling, flip around, and land easily. Between five and ten, or so, they are falling long enough to freak out and realize that something is wrong. This is when they get hurt because they tense and break something upon impact. But between ten and above, they relax again because they are falling long enough to think that falling is just how life is, that it was always like that.

My seven-day stretch was my ten-story fall. And now I can relax.

Kinda.

I sent out a second revision of a review that came through Submittable for Weave. That was cool. If the guy gets back to me within a day or so, I can schedule a post for the weekend and get three reviews up this month. I already have another review waiting to be edited, which I'll also do within the next couple days. It will be the first to go up for October. This one came through a volunteer on Facebook for a fellow alumna's recent publication. It'll be a test run to see if the writer, a Chatham MFA candidate, will be good enough to hold a stable position as a creative nonfiction reviewer (our first). Past that, I have two more coming in between now and the first week of October (fiction and poetry), which will fill out the rest of October nicely.

I also have my own review to finish for Coal Hill Review. For whatever reason, this month has not been kind to me regarding reading pace. Perhaps I burned myself out. Perhaps work has taken a harsher toll than expected. It's taken me a month to read one 300-some-page book. The review is due on the last day of September. Thankfully, I'm taking notes, but I still feel incredibly behind because I'm barely halfway through the book. And then there's another review due on Oct. 15 for a print publication in Canada. The book was good (-ish), but place (Canada) has a definite character in the story, and I'm concerned that the review won't be accepted well if I'm critical. I'm trying to find a balance, but there isn't much to say about the book. We'll see how that goes. Thankfully, Weave told me to hold off on my own reviews until I get writers on a decent schedule, so I don't have to write three reviews next month (or read two review books in that time).

Working at Half Price Books is very, very dangerous for an avid reader. I keep finding things that I've been searching for and putting them on hold in my cube (cubby) until I can afford to buy them. I haven't gotten my first paycheck yet and already I've spent over $30. Some of it's been Christmas presents, and other items still on hold fall into that category, but at least half has been my own books. I have so many on my bookshelf that have yet to be read... I really don't need more books... yet there they are. So I as much as I want to have some leisure reading time, these reviews have been weighing over me. I don't anticipate this feeling going away any time soon.

Judging a National Contest and Finding a Mini-Me

Again, I've encountered a situation that illustrates how hard work and chance encounters can create amazing opportunities.

To explain: I have two long-term friends from elementary school: Jess and Ethan. Jess I've known since Brownies (girl scouts) even though she went to a different elementary and middle school (but the same high school). Ethan I've known since elementary school. We've always been aware of each other, always nice to each other, but more acquaintances than friends. He's the kind of guy whom everyone liked. He always wears a smile. Always.

No, really. Always.

There's even a legend about him: One day around seventh or eighth grade, jock bullies were making fun of him for being so happy and smiling all the time, so they kept trying to find ways to get his smile to falter. Finally, they punched him in the gut. The smile faltered, but never left Ethan's face. His reaction, though one of pain, shocked the bullies and ever since then, they left him alone and showed him some respect.

I'm not sure how much of that is true. I should ask him.

Anyway...

Hard work. In my case, it was building a solid foundation through tiny actions that always, in some way, reinforced my potential and my future. Working for two campus lit mags, interning for a  publishing house, interning for a city magazine, earning a BA and MFA in writing, always reading, writing reviews, becoming a legit columnist, becoming an editorial assistant, becoming an unofficial review editor's assistant (that title doesn't exist, but it's basically when I'm doing until Weave can get a full-time review editor). Basically striving to maintain a successful literary career.

Chance encounters. After graduating from high school, Ethan and I lost touch until a few months ago (nearly 9 years later). We accepted friend requests on Facebook, exchanged comments... the typical stuff. Then a couple weeks ago around midnight, he randomly messages me by saying: "I know this is random, but..."

He proceeds to ask me if I'd be willing to judge the middle school level literature entries for the PTA Reflections Contest. For the national round. That alone made me freak out.

The PTA Reflections Program is a national program centered on developing a passion for art--be it traditional art, performance art, literature, or music composition. It's a BIG DEAL, but apparently not all schools participate in it. You win in your school, go on to a regional round, then a state round, and then a national round (if I have that order correct...). Then someone at the Library of Congress (I think) picks the grand prize winner.

I had won first prize for poetry during fourth grade. Just for my school, though. The poem was one I'd worked on for a few weeks and incorporated schools lessons about monarch butterflies into. It apparently made people cry. It wasn't as if I'd intended any emotion. I just wrote about the images in my head, as if the universe told me what to write and I dutifully typed everything down. The only purposeful part of it was the butterflies. So, riding on that win, I entered again that following year and didn't place. It was disappointing, but okay. That first place win the year before was the first time I'd won anything. But, alas, at some point over the subsequent years, we lost the winning poem. We have the trophy, the certificate of achievement, even the folder and the losing poem... It's heartbreaking that I can't remember the poem, there were no copies made, and I'll never see it again. Because, of course, digital copies weren't being archived until a number of years after fourth grade. And, apparently, the PTA is only allowed to keep the poem for three years and then it's scrapped.

It should be known that when we requested a copy during fifth or sixth grade, the organization wouldn't give it to me.... siting something about copyright that even at the time seemed wrong.

Well, Ethan knew about this because we'd talked about it a few weeks before he messaged me, when he posted a picture of all the other category submission CDs. So going off that and what little he knew about my literature life (just that I was into it), he asked me to judge.

It's as if everything came full circle with this contest.

I have 48 entries to go through by April 15. It seems like it should be more (one entry per state per grade), but apparently not all the entries were submitted. Odd... Basically, my top picks will go to that final person for the grand prize, national winner.

When he asked me to help him (because a position opened up that needed to be filled immediately), Ethan had no idea what I do during what is technically my spare time. He was astounded when I told him why April is a busy month for me: reviews, review editing, full-time job, literary event evenings, concerts, Weave submissions, and now contest submissions. Oh, and dancing lessons--that's another new development.

The process itself is intriguing. I have to look for raw talent. There's a rubric, of course--an educational assessment must always have a rubric... Interpretation of the theme, artistic merit and creative merit (which, for literature, is about the same thing anyway), and technical merit. I must be aware that many winners were picked based off context, not technical writing rules. They won't have a firm grasp on grammar, nor will they have a solid understanding and execution of craft. But talent is talent, and if something is freakin' amazing, then it doesn't matter how old that kid is. But because of the technical merit, the delivery can't be completely atrocious.

It is very interesting to hop between Weave submissions (wherein I'm looking for the best of the best) to contest submissions (wherein "best of the best" is a lot more lenient but still applicable.)

While going through submissions, I've already found a poem that blew me away and thus received a perfect score. And I found a different entrant, a girl, who's basically a mini-me. Her poem is the exact kind that I used to write in high school, when I'd sit at a computer during free time in a physics lab and let the universe tell me what to write. Lots of inspirational, abstract, and broad ideas. Corny. Amateurish. Not much thought involved. I made dozens upon dozens of those poems. And this girl wrote something that fits into that collection.

She won't win, but I posted on FB about how I want to hug her and provide reassuring words:

• Keep writing. 
• You'll  be great one day. 
• Don't give up. 
• I was just like you once. 

Well, Ethan saw that post and told me that he's planning to make a blog that enables judges to send messages to the students who submitted. And yes, it would be awesome to write that girl an official message of support and reassurance. 

So that's my big update of the month. I'm still in shock that it's happening.

Editorial assistant, and a stalled writing life

When compared to other writing friends (some of whom are currently at the AWP conference), I feel as if I am failing as a writer. They just seem to write more than I do, or do more literary activities than I do. This past week, in particular, has been especially hard because I've wanted to write, but my brain couldn't decide what to work on: first person present tense for my thesis story, third person past tense for my NaNoWriMo novel, or undecided POV and tense for a short story/novellette. The words are there, but they're trapped behind a brick wall and I can't even pry them out through the cracks. I've even slowed down reading books, except for a handful of thin poetry books from Autumn House Press. Even then, I needed a break from them after a few nights. 

But things aren't all dismal. I was recently appointed the editorial assistant for Weave magazine, a print literary magazine that concentrates on dark humor, magical realism, the strange and fantastical, realistic narratives in fiction and poetry, strong and well-developed characters as well as flawed ones, dynamic female characters, retellings of old stories and fairy tales and myths, the playing of language, women authors and characters, LGTBQ authors and characters, diversity, community... and... well... a bunch of really cool stuff. It seemed like an extremely good fit for me. I met the creator at a Bridges conference at Chatham recently and through talking with her and going through the application process, I got the job! It's non-paid but that's okay. On the literary panel at the conference, the panelists said that in order to maintain a job in publishing, you have to volunteer to read the slush piles and help out. Once you get a few of those jobs under your belt, along with some official internships, you'll be more likely to be accepted in a paying position elsewhere. 

I should get around 10 submissions a week. This week was 17 because about seven of them were pieces that had been already accepted. I had to read them in order to get a feel for what the comments on the side were like (in Submittable) and what stories they tend to accept. It will be interesting. I finished all the accepted ones tonight. Here's hoping I can read most of the pending submissions tomorrow to catch up. 

Also, Mike has read most of my thesis. He's taken to reading for an hour or so on Saturday mornings, when he has some quiet time while I get to sleep in. He's almost 3/4 of the way through. He hasn't said anything about it yet, though. But, this is a start. And he says that it might not be a habit, because you can't count something as a habit if it's only done two weeks in a row. Maybe three weeks. It is almost a push for me to continue working on either that story or the NaNo one so he has something else to continue of mine, but that might be hoping for too much. If it took him this long to read something relatively established... getting him to read a WIP is a long-shot, and he has so many other books to get to anyway. It would be nice if Saturday mornings became his official reading times, though.