Happy PiBoIdMo!

    Each year I cringe at NaNoWriMo being held in November. I have always liked the idea of the challenge, but November is a daunting month for me. I am a single working mom. I have Thanksgiving and one child's birthday to get through. That is one week of the month shot right there for me! (I spend much of November in the kitchen, and I like it that way.) So when I learned a couple of weeks ago about an alternative choice called PiBoIdMo I was thrilled. This challenge, created and organized by blogger Tara Lazar, encourages participants to come up with one new picture book idea every day for the month of November. I can handle that challenge and see it as quite worthwhile.
     Today was day one of PiBoIdMo and it was easy and enjoyable. And the idea would not have come to me if not for the challenge. There is no question about that. And that is the very purpose of these types of creative challenges, to push you where you would not have gone on your own. They serve this purpose beautifully. There is still time to jump in...
http://taralazar.wordpress.com/piboidmo2010/

Ok kids,

you didn't do very well with the first round of the game. The correct answer was Catch-22.
Let's try another ....
The following is the first line in what novel?

A few miles south of Soledad, the Salinas River drops in close to the hillside bank and runs deep and green.

name the novel

that opens with this sentence;

     It was love at first sight.

Coming Soon! - WAE Network

I am intrigued... Coming Soon! - WAE Network

A Decade of Magical Thinking

     I put off reading Joan Didion's book for years. Not, I think, due to everyday ordinary old procrastination, but a bit more due to fear. When I was first widowed I read as much as I could about widows, fiction and not. I think I was searching for role models not having any idea how to be what sudden life circumstances had forced me to become. But for some reason that I am still unsure of I couldn't bring myself to read The Year of Magical Thinking.
     Recently I came across a copy in a used book pile and thought that the time had come for me to read it. And I tried. I tried really hard. But I have not succeeded. Not yet anyway. It brings up so many emotions. Basic author envy, that I wish I had written it or something like it. And lots of bad memories about the mistakes that I made during my year (or two) of magical thinking. And the paralyzing fear that a bigger, badder loss could be on the way. So I seem to have abandoned it. It is lying on the vacant side of the bed, splayed open in the middle, and seems best left at that, for now.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2011/oct/21/joan-didion-blue-nights?CMP=twt_fd

Degas and the Nude

      I was surprised yesterday, albeit pleasantly, at how inspired I was by my visit to the Degas and the Nude exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Not surprised at being inspired, per se. In fact, I am almost always inspired when I study art, but usually I am inspired to create visual art, or perhaps more precisely I am usually inspired to be a frustrated wannabe. But today while studying Degas I was deeply inspired to write. I thought of two completely disparate writing projects that I want to tackle. Both ekphrastic, inspired by and dependent on his art. The first I'll share with you because I invite you to participate. The second, which will be really fun, I'll keep to myself for now.
     I want to curate an anthology of short stories all written in response to a Degas painting titled The Interior, though sometimes called The Rape. I thought it was interesting that many experts have speculated that this painting was itself inspired by a novel (though denied by Degas), and thought it would be a serendipitous full-circle turn to bring it back to the written word again. I was immediately attracted to the idea that everyone who looks upon the dramatic scene he painted will have a different idea of what happened or is happening there, and really believe that it would make an excellent collection of stories.
     So ~ if you want to join in the fun, feel free to send me what you come up with. I promise to give it every consideration for the final cut. I'll attach an image of the painting here, but you might want to duck into the MFAB by 2/5/12 to see the real thing and get inspired yourself.

                            

Pondering publishing

Lots to think about here;

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/17/technology/amazon-rewrites-the-rules-of-book-publishing.html?_r=1&adxnnl=1&smid=fb-share&pagewanted=all&adxnnlx=1318858346-Tj9A3IXGDfgeZ6fDLpkj6A

Finished!!

     My novel is done. 40,350 words. Hope that isn't too short?
     The revision stage was really enjoyable. Now on to the marketing stage which I don't think is going to be very much fun at all...

Todays column

Tea for Two: Shiva (Sarah) Shapiro: A newcomer a long time ago | SeacoastOnline.com

Does Early Shoplifting Lead to the Writing Life?

http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2011/10/10/111010fa_fact_smith

      When I read this piece in the current New Yorker I was transported back to sometime around the tumultuous year of 1968, to a department store most likely in Manchester, New Hampshire. I remember that I was wearing a brightly decorated but mostly yellow big kind of hippie shirt we called "a smock" that had two big pockets right about where your hands hang. Big pockets are handy for your hands and for impulsive shoplifting.
     I remember that I was out of eyesight of my mother, which wasn't unusual or particularly terrifying in those days, and I was browsing through a big counter of odds and ends heaped there, typical merchandising in the old five and dimes. I wasn't much taller than the bin and was leaning in to get a better look. I was touching things, and looking at them, I'm not sure why. And that's when I came upon it...
     I picked up a little palm sized Spanish / English dictionary. My heart started beating faster. Touching it felt life changing. I thought about the fact that I was starting school, and only spoke one lousy language, which suddenly seemed pathetic. A serious scholar should speak several languages I thought, and I knew I'd better bone up real quick. I also noticed my handy hippie pockets and how perfectly the little book slid in there. I started working on my vocabulary as soon as I got home, and my mother who didn't seem to notice most things I did, noticed. "Where did you get that?" she asked.
       I replied then much as I still do now when overwrought with guilt, by bursting into a weeping heap while choking out a snotty confession. She said I had to tell my father which was about the worst punishment conceivable and I had to wait hours til he got home to do it. He put me in the car and made me give it back to the befuddled store manager, though Dad did help me with the confession there, probably to bypass the aforementioned histrionics.
     That was it. I was not presented with my own dictionary like Patti Smith. And I never learned to speak more than Sesame Street Spanish, even when I took it in high school. I still speak only one lousy language, and it still seems pathetic to me. It sure would've come in handy when I was in Spain a few years ago. Instead I got to bumble my way through the country with the patient help of the bilingual Spaniards. They had to help me, I didn't have a dictionary with me.

Children’s book at top of latest banned book list

   I wish I could buy a copy of this picture book for every little kid in the country. Wrap it up with a big beautiful bow. Read it to each and every one of them in an old rocking chair. Take a look at the link. I promise no harm will come to you...

Children’s book at top of latest banned book list
     This is the book>

Widdendreams

    Here's a little something that I wrote this week when given the challenge to complete 500 words on the subject of widdendream. Immediately attracted to the word itself I did some research on it, and it brought to mind a bum I had seen walking a New Hampshire city sidewalk recently. A warm summer day, I remember noticing him wearing many heavy items of clothing, but was most struck by how he held a book up to his face. Not in front of his face, but right on and shielding his face, from what only he knew. This is what I imagined it might be...

Jim’s Daily Widdendream

By Tammi j Truax

     James was walking up the sidewalk at a considerable clip, though he was heavily weighed down by his multiple layers of clothing and his back pack filled to the brim and with quite a few tied on attachments. Tied on in the style of an old time hobo. But he wasn't old and he wasn't a hobo. He was a scientist, in search of answers. An anthropologist to be specific. He studied people and places. Sometimes he did. When he had a chance to stake out an observation area. Right now though, it was travel time. Travel time was determined by the sun and the relative heat it gave off. It was unwise (and unpleasant) to travel when you were wearing every item of clothing that you own and it becomes hot outside. He would walk awhile (actually 1759 additional steps) once he became overheated to benefit from the detoxifying sweat bath that resulted and its medicinal properties. But then encampment must take place. Taking 1760 steps or more would tragically disrupt the ratio of travel to camp time and disturb all scientific findings for the entire day and night. This was an indisputable scientific fact well documented in his journals. His journals were his most prized and valuable possession and most of his day and most of his energy went into safeguarding them. They were his life's work, and many people, corporations and governments alike, were out to get them and take credit for his discoveries. They were sealed in a plastic bag which he kept in the left side pocket of his cargo pants where they were closest to his heart. He kept one journal, which he called The Placebo, out most of the time. It was a dummy journal though occasionally when pressed for time and / or in a place where the real journals could not be revealed, he would make a quick first draft note of a discovery in it which he would transfer later when he got to do so safely at camp. Usually, though strictly for security purposes, he would only record the new finding in the form of a diagram which he would transcribe later. The other function (Jim, liked all of his possessions to multitask) of the placebo book was that it served as his mask. It was important to be fully covered while traveling and he wore a hat and a hoodie pulled well around his head. But he had to travel with the book held up right under his chin and covering all of his face except his eyes, much like an Afghani woman’s burqua. He knew people assumed he was a farsighted reading-walker which was fine with him. He didn't want to hurt their feelings and divulge that he saw them all as dirty specimens of a dying pathological city. Mostly though, the placebo was needed to conceal his identity because people were looking for him. He imagined he looked just like the lone ranger, handsome and debonair, and rode on.

All rights reserved. 

Blogging about a Blog

    I wanted to share this wonderful blog post I ran across this morning. It is called Writers Houses and is devoted to "the art of literary pilgrimage". An indulgence I try to engage in regularly and would like to write about too. This entry, just posted today, is about the Sarah Orne Jewett house in South Berwick, Maine, which I have visited many times and lived near for over a decade, in my previous life, when I was a young married woman. It is well worth reading.
     http://writershouses.com/guest/the-cabinet-of-sisters

Update

      Three poems accepted for publication last month! That's a record. They are all due to appear in an anthology called The Widows' Handbook to be published in 2012.  
     Also found this article interesting;  
http://www.npr.org/2011/09/12/140336146/for-the-dying-a-chance-to-rewrite-life?ft=1&f=1001&sc=tw&utm_source=twitterfeed&utm_medium=twitter

Tea for Two today

Tea for Two: Looking back at lessons learned | SeacoastOnline.com

‘Bumble-Ardy’

      Another of my favorite New Hampshire writers, with further testimony that grief greatly influences writing.
I'm looking forward to reading this;
Maurice Sendak on ‘Bumble-Ardy’

Books With Soundtracks: The Future of Reading? - The Atlantic

I hadn't given this idea any thought before now. While I have always enjoyed the silence of reading, the truth is most of the time I don have some type of background noise going on while I read. I will probably check one out on my iphone just to be fair. I'm leaning toward the Salmon Rushdie sort story mentioned in the article. It's fascinating to think about soundtracks to your favorite works as well as your own once you start considering the possibilities.

Books With Soundtracks: The Future of Reading? - The Atlantic

Pretty Big Week

and I'm not talking hurricanes.
      I finished the first draft of my novel yesterday! It does still need plenty of work but it is a huge milestone for me to have gotten to this point. I had started two others before that I haven't finished yet. (I do hope to finish them at some point.) It's very exciting, and starting on the revising process feels like a blast. I wish that I could hole up somewhere alone for a week or two and get it done without interruption.
   Also, got word last week that two of my poems will be published in an anthology next year called The Widows Handbook chosen from "nearly 500 submissions from all over the world".
     And last but not at all least I was asked to be the poetry curator for this years Jazzmouth Festival. I was thrilled to say yes to that!
      Come to think of it I don't want to leave out that I received an email from Joyce Maynard today. That was pretty exciting too.

".... an oddly pleasant sense of anticipation."

     I have just discovered the writer Joyce Maynard. Not at all sure how I missed her. I have always been partial to reading native New Hampshire writers, but I was just introduced to her work by a mutual friend last week. A used copy of the good daughters (HarperCollins, 2010) arrived while I was out last night. A novel set in NH about women growing up I was anxious to delve in and did so this morning.
     On just page four I was struck so much by the closing paragraph I just had to share it;

"One thing about a hurricane: it turns everything upside down. You never know how things will be once the wind dies down. All you know for sure: the world will look different tomorrow. And perhaps it is  a sign of some restlessness in his nature, or more that that even, a hunger for something not yet found, that Edwin Plank heads out into the wild night with his heart beating fast. Life on this patch of earth could be totally different in the morning."


     I hope to spend the day tomorrow curled up with this book, maybe with my first fire of the season to light the room, while Angry Irene batters my doors and windows. I trust it will be a worthy diversion as I am already enthralled. Stay safe everybody.

Published last week in Seacoast Scene with photos;

Community Radio

By Tammi J Truax

     Did you know that you have your own radio station? Yes, it is yours. Portsmouth Community Radio, called WSCA 106.1, on the FM dial.

     Chances are you didn’t know it and haven’t been listening. Most radio listeners still choose commercial radio most of the time, and WSCA is a low power (LP) station that can’t be heard in some places, though anyone can stream it live on the computer by visiting the station’s web site.

     Portsmouth Community Radio got its start in 2000 when signs were posted around town announcing a meeting to discuss applying for a low power FM license due largely to the vision and efforts of Tim Stone who is still involved, and Jay Gardner, who sadly passed away before the station went on air, but to whom the station has been dedicated. WSCA 106.1 FM Portsmouth went on the air on September 12, 2004, after much work and a major “barn-raising”, and has since been broadcasting an eclectic mix of music, public affairs, arts, and cultural programming around the clock. It continues to grow and change, sometimes struggling, sometimes flourishing. Everyone is welcome to participate in whatever way best suits them.

     So what is a community radio station? Yours is a completely volunteer operated, non-profit and listener supported radio station offering diverse programming that is largely locally produced. (In the interest of full disclosure: I am co-producer of a show called Seacoast Journal.) Because the shows are created and carried out by locals who step up to offer them they reflect a wide variety of interests and orientations as does our general population thus it is a mixed format radio station. One listen will not be indicative of what you will always hear. The only thing you can be sure of is that you will not hear what you will always hear on mainstream commercial radio. Sometimes the surprises are amazing. I have heard some fantastic programming coming out of the little studio in an old factory building on Islington Street. Some of the volunteer DJ’s offer music programming of course. There has been everything offered from opera to heavy metal, as well as a nice emphasis on promoting local music. But in an unexpected evolution, many of the shows that have been offered is public affairs programming. That would include all sorts of talk radio from food to politics as well as local news. Station founder Tim Stone says that the locally produced public affairs programming found on WSCA is “the real richness” of the station, and he is proud that the station offers more of it than even NHPR.

     That type of home-grown journalism is not the only benefit to community radio stations. Said Policy Director of the Prometheus Radio Project of Philadelphia, PA, “Low-power stations save lives during emergencies, like WQRZ(LP) in Bay St. Louis, Miss., did in Hurricane Katrina, or KYGT(LP) did during a 2003 snowstorm in Idaho Springs, Colo. They give voice to underserved groups, like the Hmong community programs on KRBS(LP) in Oroville, Calif., or the disability community show on WSCA(LP) in Portsmouth, N.H. And they bring young people to the art of radio, like the “at-risk” youth on KKDS(LP) in Eureka, Calif., or the Radio Palante teen programmers on WCOM(LP) in Carrboro, N.C.”

     A specific example of that would be the recent broadcast on the aforementioned WSCA show called “Don’t Dis my Abilities” created and co-produced by Ronnie Tomanio who reported;

     “I had sent out a request through my network of friends that our show was looking for a poet who could express what it was like living with a disability. On a Tuesday in March 13-year-old Cheyenne Gemma, of Raymond, came to the radio station with her entourage of grandparents and a speech pathologist. We were told ahead of time that she did not like people talking for her, over her and about her. She made it known that she had a voice, even though it came through an electronic communicator, and she knew how to use it — thank you very much!

      Here is Cheyenne in her own words:

Question: How do you feel not being able to speak?

Cheyenne: Who knows what it feels like not to talk? Shut out of the world, and all alone. Not being able to share your thoughts, only listening to others talk about you. I want to cry and tell them how they hurt me. Words are wonderful; they should make me feel alive. I want to tell everyone how they make me feel.”

     That is the heart of a community radio station and yours is one of only about eight hundred in the country. It is participatory, and it gives a voice to the community. As in the above case, literally hours of work goes into producing the few minutes of words (or music) that make it on the air, but are carried out because every voice deserves to be heard. It really is your station. Give it a listen, or better yet get involved.

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The second time I have had to write an obituary;

Dr. Hugh A. Harter, Retired Professor Emeritus, Author and Translator

     Hugh A. Harter, of Portsmouth, NH, died Saturday afternoon August 13, 2011 at his home with the peaceful pull of the Piscataqua River outside his window to lull his passing.

     Professor Harter was born in Columbus Ohio in December of 1922, and raised there by his parents, Anthony and Georgiana (Hayes) Harter.  He received his BA cum laude in 1947 and PhD in 1959 from Ohio State University, an MA cum laude from Mexico City College, the University of the Americas in 1951 and a Doctor of Letters degree from Alma College. The latter honoring his innovations in international education. He began his teaching career while still a student himself.  He was the Andrew Mellon postdoctoral fellow at the University of Pittsburgh in 1960 and 1961. He also taught at Wesleyan University, Elmira College, Chatham College and Loyola University before becoming a professor at Ohio Wesleyan University in Delaware where he taught from 1966 until 1984. For many of those years he served as chairman of the department of romance languages. He was also the Robert Hayward professor of modern foreign languages from 1976 to 1984. He found time to teach abroad including at the University Catolica de Santa Maria, Arequipa, Peru in 1969 and as director of academy program in Segovia, Spain from 1969-1998, serving as the director of the International Institute of Spain, where he was named professor emeritus. He lived in Segovia for years and in 1976 was made an Honorary Citizen of the city. He also taught and conducted research in Morocco, Algeria and Tunisia.

     Professor Harter was an author in several genres and several languages and became known internationally as a scholar of Spanish and French literature. He was particularly renowned for his translations of Nobel Prize winning Spanish poets. His bilingual editions of major poetical works, Shadow of Paradise and The Diary of a Newlywed Poet by Nobel Laureate Vicete Aleixandre and Juan Ramon Jimenez are widely recognized as masterful. He translated seven novels from the French. The books he authored include Gertrudis Gomez de Avellaneda, Tangier and All That, and more recently, Return to Patton's France, 1944's Odyssey Retraced, The Countess, which he called “a satirical novel in verse.” His most recent, a book of poetry called Flying With Nightingales was published in 2009. He co-authored and edited many other books.

     His distinguished career in education and literature was disrupted only once, for his service in World War II with the Military Intelligence 3d Army at Normandy and then the Air Transport Command. He was the recipient of medals of St. Calais, Vendome, Blois, Dombasle, Utah Beach, Avranches, and Ouzouer, as well as the medaille d'Honneur of Confedn. Europeene des Anciens Combattants, and many other awards. Hugh wrote extensively about his war experiences which affected him deeply, and returned to France for the dedication of Avenue Hugh Harter. He was also a business man, a visual artist, and an art collector. He created an original holiday card every year that he sent out to all of his loved ones, and his watercolors illustrated his favorite book, The Countess.

     Hugh would say his greatest achievement was winning the heart of his beloved wife Frances who predeceased him in 2006. Fran and Hugh traveled extensively but lived many years in New York City before retiring in Portsmouth, New Hampshire in 2003, where he will be missed by many. He was predeceased by a sister. He is survived by his step-children and their families, and his many dear friends.

     Services will be held Wednesday at 1 PM at Finnerty and Stevens Funeral Home at Great Barrington, Massachusetts, where Hugh will be buried next to Fran. A memorial service will be held in Portsmouth, NH at a later date.

Waves

Here when the wind dies,

The silence grows,

Ponderous and bold,

Like growing old,

As the sunset dims

And the sea turns gold

And the silence drifts

Towards us,

Thunderous and bold,

And the waves come lapping,

Lapping, lapping at the shore.

—HUGH A. HARTER,

A Writer’s Life

A Writer’s Life

Published recently in Seacoast Scene

Remembering President George Washington on the Fourth of July

By Tammi J Truax

     Ogling old houses is a Portsmouth pastime. It is our way of remembering and respecting our history. Locals love to do it, and visitors come from far and wide to join us. Most folks know of Strawbery Banke, our living history museum, with its many restored houses. Nearby are two that are sometimes mistaken as being part of Strawbery Banke, or overlooked altogether. I had never been inside either one until last week, and I don’t want you to make the same mistake.

     They are the Wentworth-Gardner and Tobias Lear houses, adjacent properties on Mechanic and Hunking Streets in Portsmouth’s historic south end. They are among the most important houses to the region both architecturally and historically, and both are in the National Register of Historic Places. Both just happen to have links to our first president, General George Washington. Though quite different from each other both are examples of classic Georgian architecture from the mid-1700’s. Both are well known for hand carved (from local pine) woodwork and other original building features. Local woodworker and board member Allen Breed describes just one of the special features, “It’s hard for a visitor to miss the spectacular spiral openwork newel post at the base of the ornate stairway that fills the front hallway of the Wentworth-Gardner house. This post is one of the jewels in the outstanding interior ornamentation of the house, and considerable time was invested in its construction as an ostentatious statement of the owner’s wealth.”

      Built first, in 1740 (when Washington was an eight year old boy), is the Tobias Lear house on Hunking Street. It is a hip-roofed colonial and appears much more modest than the stately Wentworth-Gardner though it is considered a mansion due to its size. There are eight original fireplaces. It was in the front parlor of this house that President George Washington visited his secretary’s mother, Madame Mary Lear, in 1789, where he was served tea while the colonial version of paparazzi gathered in the lane outside.

     The Wentworth-Gardner house, built in 1760, gets a great deal more attention, presiding majestically over the back channel as she always has. Originally built as a wedding gift for Thomas Wentworth and his wife Ann Tasker from Marblehead, no expense was spared in its creation, and in fact the house was meant to exhibit the wealth of the well-known Wentworth family. Its two massive chimneys have ten fireplaces, most decorated with hand-painted tiles. The kitchen has a cooking chimney with a beehive oven and built in fan and roasting spit. The third owner of the house was William Gardner, who had been a major in the revolution and worked in Washington’s administration.

     When the surrounding neighborhood known as Puddledock went into its lengthy period of decline both houses did too, but escaped serious damage even when rented out as tenant homes. Almost one hundred years ago both were owned for a time by the well known photographer Wallace Nutting, who was instrumental in their restoration. He sold the Wentworth-Gardner house to the NY Metropolitan Museum who owned it for decades with the intention of moving it to Central Park. In time both houses were purchased by the Wentworth-Gardner and Tobias Lear Houses Association, a non-profit organization formed in 1940 that still manages the homes, as well as the sail loft, an eighteenth century warehouse, that is one of the few remaining buildings of its type in the area. For a long time it operated as a sail maker’s shop.

     The association seeks new members, as well as volunteers to serve on the board or in helping to maintain and preserve the homes.

     Both houses are open to the public for tours until October, Wednesday through Sunday from 12 to 4 PM. Drop in for a tour or attend any of the following special events open to all;

Photography Show 6/15-10/16: featuring works by Wallace Nutting, Geneve Hoffman, and Philip Case Cohen.

Inspired Creations Show 6/26-8/8: Annual art show opens with a fresh selection of artwork created by talented artists and craftspeople and inspired by the Wentworth-Gardner House.

Member & Neighbor Picnic 7/17: Bring a picnic lunch and your family, sit by the river, and enjoy yourselves.

Twilight Tour 8/10: Visit seven historic houses in Portsmouth and enjoy seeing them in a new light. Houses on the tour include the Gov. John Langdon House, Rundlet-May House, John Paul Jones House, Warner House, Moffatt-Ladd House and Wentworth-Gardner and Tobias Lear Houses.

Fairy House Weekend 9/18 & 19: Favored annual event in the south end, see fairy creations around the houses, warehouse, and yards. Bring your own fairy house to add to the gardens!

For more info visit www.wentworthgardnerandlear.org.

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