A Spoonful of Peas (Excerpt)

This fall, I took a Creative Nonfiction II class, and slowly fell even more in love with the genre that I was never quite sure about. I found I was enthralled by the lyric essay, and knew that creative nonfiction could expand the boundaries of merely "telling the truth" and borrow elements from both fiction and poetry. To be honest, I've been a lot happier with my creative nonfiction for the past few months than I have with my ever-slow novel. So here's a very short excerpt from a very short piece--under 1k words!--I am (hopefully) almost finished with. This is the first of five sections. Enjoy this taste.

"A Poisoned Apple, a Spoonful of Peas"

One.

My sister and I would sit side by side: always, I was the Barbie-player, the one bending limbs and combing plastic hair. Paige, always the open-mouthed, movie-watcher, would suck her thumb and lean her taut body forward as Snow White ran through the forest, eyes peering at her from all directions in the dark. When Snow White would let out her long scream, Paige, bouncing, her small body stiff, would scream too: would let a shriek loose from her small throat, a screech the shape of a bell curve, the sharpness of it echoing off the walls of our playroom. I wouldn’t cringe, would keep shoving Barbie’s wide hands into her small sleeves. I was used to it, used to all of it: the doctor’s visits, the song-singing to calm her down, the locking doors and speaking in a clear voice so she might let forth her own small voice and speak back. But as I did all of these things, inside, I was waiting.

Even as I was reciting the words taught to me, reading them like a script: “Paige has a rare genetic disorder called Angelman’s Syndrome, meaning she will always function at the age of a three-year-old, not matter her actual age,” even then, I was waiting. When recited my lines to strangers in a grocery store, when I performed for my classmates, I didn’t quite believe the words myself. I was forever waiting for my sister to wake up. Like the princesses in the movies she loved, maybe the real Paige—the sister that would borrow my clothes, who could unlock doors, and pick fights with me—was hidden behind some kind of spell, a poisoned apple of sorts. Maybe that’s all ‘genetics’ was: a deep, black magic so binding that people hid it away behind science and doctors and blood work tests with sharp needles.

And so I waited for the spell to lift.

L. Stacks

ACM #50 "Another Chicago Issue:" Call for Submissions!

As many of you know, I have been interning with the award-winning literary magazine Another Chicago Magazine for the past six months, helping with editorial selections, organization, and slush-reading. ACM's #49 "Bestiary" was released mid-summer, and we are well on our way to produce another great issue in early 2010.

ACM #50 will be a Chicago-themed issue, "Another Chicago Issue." To be considered for publication in this issues, you need not submit a piece specifically about Chicago (although feel free to, if you're so inclined) rather, you need only to live in Chicago, and to represent what we feel to be true Chicago-writing style.

About ACM: "Above all, we prefer diversity and an eclectic variety of work, which in some way diverges from and chafes againt preconceived ideas of genre, technique, and form, as well as work that may be a particularly distinguished example of more conventional modes. We believe that our content continues to encourage the reading of contemporary literature that is not only outside the most popular “mainstream,” but somewhat outside the “literary mainstream” as well. In other words, we hope to strike a more adventurous path from our peers and we hope to break new ground in our consideration and inclusion of multiple aesthetic and social viewpoints. Over the past four decades we feel we have largely succeeded in achieving this vision."

Submissions must be postmarked by January 5, 2010 and addressed as follows:

Another Chicago Magazine

Jacob S. Knabb

2608 W. Diversey

Apt 202

Chicago, IL - 60647

Re: "Another Chicago Issue"

I'd love to see submissions from you all--and please feel free to spread the word, as we have always been a magazine that is interested in publishing quality writers regardless of their previous publishing experience.

L. Stacks

Some 'Splaning

I know, I know, I was doing so well. I had a nice little streak going there, blogging nearly every day for a couple of weeks. What happened to stop my productive blogginess? Well, here's some 'splaning:

One.

I've been working on a piece of flash creative nonfiction (yes, folks, that means that it's under 1,000 words) about... peas. Well, about peas but also about my sister who has Angelman's Syndrome. Oh, and kind of about Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. I'm having fun with it--trying to be a little less serious, and a little silly.

Two.

So, I started watching Lost at the beginning of the summer, and needless to say, I tried to hold off until Christmas break before I let myself get completely up-to-date. However, I found myself in a moment of weakness, and watched the Season 5 premiere a few days ago. I haven't been able to stop since.

Three.

As I told you in my last post, I watched my little brother run in Michigan's High School State Finals two weekends ago. That's my brother, on the far left, leading. In fact, he took the lead at about the half-mile mark, and lead all the way until the finish. Not only was he the individual division 4 state champion, but his team also won the meet. It was hard to get the rest of my homework done that weekend, since my family and I were too busy celebrating the success of my brother--and the Concord guys' team!

Hope you all have had a lovely few weeks--and I'll try to keep you all posted as I head home for Thanksgiving break, finish out my third semester of my MFA, and start the holiday season!

L. Stacks

Book Review: Mennonite in a Little Black Dress

Yes, the book review is finally here.

I finished this book a couple of weeks ago, and just needed to carve out some time in order to fully express how much I loved it. When I first heard about Mennonite in a Little Black Dress, I was stoked, because Rhoda Janzen was my former professor at Hope College (yes, I know, lots of bad press about my alma mater lately, sadly) and I had a hoot taking her grammar class my senior year.

So when I read that this book was about Janzen's trek back home to her mennonite past after her long-time husband left her for Bob-at-gay.com, I knew that this would be an interesting read, at the very least.

I adored this book from the first page. Janzen's tongue-in-cheek prose and her long-winded, complex sentences (including SAT vocabulary!) are eye candy for anybody sick of the usual "this is the terrible experience I went through" memoir that crowds so many of today's bookshelves. While Rhoda recounts some of the worst experiences in her years, she does so in a way that is honest and doesn't beg for sympathy, instead acknowledges that the blame can never fully be put on a single person. At times, this memoir is honest to almost the point of brutality, Janzen makes sure she explores her own motives and actions, and is able to extend the honesty of her writing to her own character.

All in all, this book isn't about tough times or bad relationships--it is, I think, about the fact that you really can go home, no matter how old you are, or how long you've been gone.

[For an excerpt, click here.]

L. Stacks

My Own Outline of Monson's "Outline"

I. Just finished reading Ander Monson's experimental essay, "Outline Toward a Theory of the Mine Versus the Mind and the Harvard Outline"

a. (from his collection of essays, Neck Deep and Other Predicaments from Graywolf Press).

II. I love the scope of the piece--about everything from

a. the history of mining in Upper Michigan

b. to the idea that writing consists of "mining" one's childhood

c. to possession

d. to rigid structure.

III. Even though this essay is written in the cold, impersonal form of the outline, I found myself absolutely loving all of Monson's asides and the connections he made.

IV. This piece makes the outline loveable.

V. "Outline Toward a Theory of the Mine Versus the Mind and the Harvard Outline" is definitely going on my list of essays that influence me, that one day I'd love to be able to use in my own classroom.

L. Stacks

John D'Agata: Lyric Essayist

John D'Agata--known to many in the writing community as the writer who singlehandedly brought back the essay from near-extinction, and the writer who created the lyric essay--visited Columbia College for their Nonfiction Week last Thursday evening.

John was a lot younger than I had imagined when reading his essays previous to the reading, and certainly was an engaging reader. I love how his work allows for tangents, and how these tangents somehow get pulled back together to make a cohesive whole. Additionally, his use of repetition in the beginning of his sentences drew me in, and grew lyrical for me, rather than hitting me over the head or feeling too tedious.

I definitely plan on reading more of his work--and to work on the lyrical aspect of my creative nonfiction. (His book of essays, Halls of Fame, is one I've added to my creative nonfiction wish list.) Whoever thinks that creative nonfiction is more an extension of fiction-writing rather than poetry-writing surely needs to read John D'Agata's work and rethink the genre.

L. Stacks