The Little Things

Over the summer, I read this really excellent article about how awesome chapbooks are. It's called "Small Is Beautiful: The Importance of Chapbooks," by Michael Young, and it was published over at The The Poetry back in May.

It's been a long time since I read an article that I connected with so well. Chapbooks ARE beautiful, and they are something that not everyone understands. 

In poetry, the goal is often to see a full-length collection published. Officially speaking, "full-length" is anything over 48 pages, and you'll usually see them in the 80-100 page range. Some, but not all, publishers require--or at least hope--that a chunk of the individual pieces have already been published elsewhere, as in literary journals, in a sort of vetting process. Assuming one poem per page, that's a huge, time-consuming undertaking. 

But the full-length collection is not always the best route to take, as Young rightly points out. He name-drops William Blake, whose most famous works, Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience, were both well within the chapbook range. This is a form that essentially allowed Blake to curate a streamlined poetic experience, with no concern about extraneous poems that might weaken his narrative arc (and make no mistake: narrative arcs are entirely possible to create in poetry collections). 

That is what draws me to the chapbook form. My first book, Miles, was a chapbook, and I remember spending endless hours paring down the pages, rearranging the works, and agonizing over any little thing that felt out of place. Having been 22 at the time, I was, of course, not particularly awesome as a writer, but even so, I feel good about what I was able to produce, and I am glad that I was limited to so few pages. And even now, I recognize that my poetry is stronger when the opportunity to ramble is removed from the equation.

So I would encourage you all to check out chapbooks, either as a reader or as a writer. You may find that they leave you with a stronger sense of who someone is as a poet, or that they give you the freedom to be precise with your own work. 

-Cate-

In My Room

In a previous life, I had an office that I loved. It was big and had incredible textured wallpaper. There was a conference table where I could spread my work out, and a desk in the corner when I was feeling anxious. It was quiet there.

Now, I still have an office, but it's much different: smaller, and meant for other uses than the one before.

From time to time, I have dreams about the office I lost. Every time, someone is trying take over that space, and watching that happen breaks my heart. Then I wake up, and I sigh. This should be out of my system after more than two years. Yet it remains.

The new one is good, though. It's easier to maintain, less likely to attract attention, and personalized in a way the other wasn't. Instead of wallpaper, I have putty-painted drywall. Instead of carpet, I have a rug from Target over cold tile. I also have Star Wars posters and board games, and a Halloween bucket that is only occasionally filled with candy. Crayons and markers abound. I have a drawer of nothing but different types of tape, and another filled with letters a group of us wrote to our future selves, waiting for the day when I'll redistribute them. 

This is an okay place. Truly. But it would be nice if I still had a portrait of Ezra Pound giving me disapproving looks whenever I slacked off. On the other hand, because I'm now on the second floor, no one tries to sneak up to the window to scare me.

You win some. You lose some. 

-Cate-

And Just Like That, I've Done It Again

So.

Remember how I just got done talking about how I was going to be much, much better about not taking unintentional hiatuses? Obviously that plan is working out for me, and I in no way failed to blog for the past four weeks.

It wasn't the normal stuff this time--the depression, the anxiety. It was actual work that kept me from blogging, or doing anything much in the way of writing. Things got a little wackadoo in that part of my life, and in the interest of, you know, earning my paycheck or whatever, I decided it would be wise to focus on my job for awhile.

But I'm back, however temporarily. And it's good to see this text box again.

-Cate-

American Success Stories

Although you're seeing this post sometime in August, I'm in the past, writing it on July 4, 2016, some 240 years after the signing of the Declaration of Independence. I mention this fact because it has a direct bearing on what you're about to read.

Earlier today, I had my iPod on shuffle, and Desi Arnaz's "Babalu" started playing. I'm a fan of I Love Lucy, and, having seen the entire series several times through, I can't help but know a few of Arnaz's more famous tunes, including this quintessential one. The song itself, though, isn't what interests me right now. Rather, Arnaz himself does.

He was what I consider to be an American success story. Born to a prominent family inn Cuba but thrust unexpectedly into straitened circumstances during a revolution, he found himself in Miama as a youth and then took up the business of entertainment. He of course met and married Lucille Ball a few years later, and the rest--as they say--is history. Everyone in America must know his name, or at least his face, by now. Not so bad for an immigrant, a non-native English speaker, and a man who dared to marry a white girl and (gasp!) flaunt their relationship on national television.

Thinking of Arnaz leads me to Richard Blanco, another Cuban making his way in America in another, but still contentious, time. Blanco was born in Spain and brought to America by parents who, like the Arnaz family, were fleeing political issues. A civil engineer and writer by training, Blanco was selected to recite a poem at the 2013 presidential inauguration (Barack Obama's second time swearing in). This was an excellent choice for several reasons: not only did Blanco give a flawless reading of his "One Today," but he also represented the changing face of America. For Blanco is an immigrant, yes, and a Latino, but also a gay man. This was a truly monumental moment, and again, I consider Blanco to be an American success story.

In keeping with the artistic bent of these musings so far, I turn to Lin-Manuel Miranda, the nearly inescapable face of Broadway in 2016. While born in America, Miranda comes from Puerto Rican stock. And he is a man who has done a few things all at once: brought attention to musical theater, triggered discussions about American history among people who might not otherwise find it an interesting topic, and dedicated his stage to the showcasing of non-white talent. Moreover, he has gotten away with all of these things through a combination of talent and commitment, which are rare enough personality traits in the public sphere nowadays. What could make his American success story more successful? Maybe only getting his face on a Wheaties box.

You've surely noticed a trend here: each of these men is Latino.

I believe in inclusion. American culture overwhelmingly privileges white people and can be ridiculously appropriative, and diversity of any kind often seems to be an impossible dream. But the United States would not be what it is today without the contributions of people from every racial, ethnic, and sexuality-based background. Unfortunately, for each person calling for a wider variety of viewpoints and a higher level of tolerance or activism, we hear another voice full of vitriol and anger, blaming non-whites--and particularly immigrants--for the perceived woes of our society.

This is unacceptable to me. And it should be unacceptable to you as well. This is America. It's meant to be the land of the free. So why are we, as a nation, working so hard to suppress diversity? We need the white people, the brown people, the black people, the blue people, the gay people, the straight people, the Christians and Jews and Muslims and Democrats and Republicans and even the anarchists, probably. Because we the people are all people, supposedly born equal (or made so as immigrants) under the law.

I've only given three examples here, but there are countless more worth researching and promoting. Those breaking down barriers, crossing lines that represented certain death in the past, marching in order to make themselves and their brethren heard, speaking out when the opportunity presents itself, fighting for what they believe is right, working to recover what was taken from them.

In the event that you haven't looked at a calendar recently, I would like to remind you that it is 2016. And it is long past time to let everyone be heard, respected, and included, and I cannot stress that enough.

-Cate-

The Craft

Sometime in the Aughts, my mother dragged me and my sister-in-law to the home of a church member for a scrapbooking demonstration and sales pitch; this church friend worked for Creative Memories (RIP and then welcome back), which at the time was probably the biggest name in the scrapbooking game. 

Truly, it doesn't take much to get me on board with stuff like this; I'm a sucker for arts and crafts, because I want so much to be artsy and crafty, which I am mostly not, in spite of the eight trillion dollars my parents paid for me to take art classes at this awesome little place not too far from our house when I was growing up. So of course I was all, "Scrapbooking is fun!" And Mom apparently agreed, because she then spent a further eight trillion dollars on CM products. 

Flash forward however many years. I still have not become artsy or craftsy, even though I have all those adult coloring books and I attempt to crochet things and I worked (literally) three shifts at Joann Fabric before unceremoniously quitting because I had too much time to think about all the other things I wasn't accomplishing with my life while simultaneously accomplishing nothing with my life. And yet! I do make regular attempts to do scrapbooking-related things, whether that's actually making scrapbook pages or, as has been the case this summer, making cards. 

Crafting makes me feel more useful, somehow, because I'm doing things with my hands rather than sitting around staring at a computer screen. Even though I often make things that look less than ideal, it's still nice to create anything at all. I've even gotten into crochet, which my grandmother tried twice to teach me when I was growing up but never stuck. Even though my niece is, so far, the only person who has received anything I've made, she seems to be behind me one hundred percent, and that gives me all the motivation I need to continue.

Plus it's nice to channel my creativity elsewhere when I'm overwhelmed (or underwhelmed, as the case may be) by the writing process, or else awaiting responses from publishers. That way, I have something to occupy me that is non-detrimental and keeps my brain in that creative place. What could be better?

-Cate-

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

I am--sadly, and semi-unwillingly--back at work now, after having been able to take some time off. This invariably means that I ventured home to Michigan, as I have few other places I can (or want to) spend an extended period of time. But what do I do while I'm there? Sometimes this is a mystery even to me, as it's not unusual for me to realize I've been home for X number of days or weeks without having accomplished anything substantial. So this year, I've decided to take stock of my summer activities, mainly for my personal edification (because what is a blog, after all, but an exercise in navel gazing?).

1) Blogging

While it's true that I haven't done nearly as much with this blog as I could or should have, I did manage to write a few posts, which I sort of, um, had not done in the month or two leading up to the summer. If I could get paid for being a slacker, I'd be pretty rich by now, to be perfectly honest.

2) Retreating

I spent two and a half days of June at Interlochen Center for the Arts (in the northern part of the Lower Peninsula of Michigan) taking a course called Live Your Art Retreat and Creativity Incubator, taught by Holly Wren Spaulding, a Michigan native who is primarily a poet. I recommend both Interlochen and Spaulding for your artistic needs!

3) Shopping

I would not be me if I hadn't spent at least part of my summer buying (an absolutely necessary amount of) books. Of course, this also involves visiting local bookstores when I'm traveling, in which manner I was able to discover the used bookstore Landmark Books and the full-price shop Brilliant Books, both in Traverse City. I especially love Brilliant Books; the people who work there are incredible and warm in a way that only independent booksellers can be (and shout-out to them for giving me a free coffee mug).

During the Fourth of July holiday weekend, my mother insisted that we go to South Haven to explore the (used and new) bookstore Black River Books, which she had stumbled across back in May and thought I would like, which I did. Later in July, she took me to the Lansing branch of Schuler Books and Music (new and used), which is borderline overwhelming but also fun.

Because I also found places elsewhere in the spring, before I came home, I'd like to mention them even though they weren't part of my summer vacation: Cottonwood Books (new and used) in Baton Rouge and 1/4 Price Books (used) in Houston, which are both interesting and useful places! Many thanks to Kristi for recommending Cottonwood and Emily for recommending 1/4 Price.

4) Researching

While I didn't engage in any classroom- or instruction-based professional development for my job (although Live Your Art gave me some good ideas for my paid work as well as my writing!), I did make an effort to do some reading that would further my understanding of and ability to perform my job in Louisiana. Any time I found an article online that might relate to my position, I would read it and make notes on especially relevant things so I could share this information with my coworkers. 

I also read a legal history of censorship and indecency law called Not in Front of the Children. It had been a textbook of mine in college; at that time, we employed only the first third or so of the book, and I was excited to finally finish it all these years later, since it relates to what I do.

5) Crafting

Sometimes, I come up with these crazy ideas about getting crafty. This almost always ends badly, and I'll be writing a post about it soon. Stay tuned.

6) Snuggling

My dog resides with my parents out of necessity (I am not allowed to have pets where I live). I miss her stupid, cute little face all the time when I'm away, so I take these vacations as an opportunity to overload myself with puppy time. We play. We watch movies. We take naps. It's incredible. I wish I could spend every day with her.

All of this makes me sound like I stayed busier than I did. For the most part, I sat around or slept or caught up on some of the movies I missed earlier by not having much money for the cinema. I also saw Niece and Nephew, of course, and played a prank on my brother (which I regret approximately zero percent); I may be *cough*adklfjeiwndfk*cough* years old, but some things never get old.

I'll wrap this up by saying that I don't intend to sound like a schoolmarm, but I'm genuinely curious: how did YOU spend your summer? Let me know, if you're so inclined.

-Cate-

Dear Joanne

I have very clear memories of the night Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows was released. It was July 2007, and I was home for the summer. My mother had pre-ordered a copy from Border's (RIP), and she sent me and my father to pick it up. Being a big-box store, there was a ton of floor space. Yet no more of it was available, and bodies spilled out into the lamp-lit parking lot.

Dad stared at the crowd, confused by the spectacle before him. "What is going on here?" he asked me.

I swept my hand around, indicating the throng engulfing us. "This is pop culture."

The moment was an important one, I think, both for me and Dad. As far as I was concerned, it was unspeakably exciting to be present for a historical literary moment. Meanwhile, Dad finally had some insight into what I had been doing with my life (both as a creative writing major and a pop culture semi-scholar). It was tinged with sadness, though, as THE TIME had come: that instant where every devoted fan realized that this was the last time we would tear through the pages of a Harry Potter book in unbridled anticipation of how his story would turn out.

Or was it?

Since that night, the series' author, J.K. Rowling, has been expanding the Hogwarts universe at a regular clip. We've witnessed the arrival of Pottermore, her interactive online community; although the book itself was released in 2001, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them is coming to a theater near you this November; The Tales of Beedle the Bard, an important piece of the Deathly Hallows puzzle, was given its own standalone book in 2008; Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, not written by Rowling but based on a story she wrote, lands on the West End stage this week to be followed the next day by a published version of the script; and revelations about Ilvermorny, Hogwarts' North American sister school, have come to light via Pottermore in the past month. 

I understand that Ms. Rowling has spent a great deal of her life immersed in the world of Harry Potter. (She is hardly alone in that, as her rabid fan base has proven.) But I also understand that she is in danger of failing to move on to other artistic endeavors, which we know she is capable of doing--witness The Casual Vacancy, as well as the Robert Galbraith/Cormoran Strike novels. And this is one of the deadliest activities in which an artist of any variety can engage.

Leaving aside the appropriative issues surrounding Ilvermorny and North American wizardry (I am looking in your direction, stereotypical assumptions about "mystical" Native Americans), which are distinct from the ongoing additions to the Potterverse, I think it would behoove Rowling to take a break from Harry James and his friends. There are so many other stories to tell, and I for one am interested to see what else she can give us.

-Cate-