Author: tiphane

Ashore

Ropes curled, neatly inside The disenchanted serpents of your skiff Floating away in the silence of a deserted pier The town shrunk to museum size Then blurred impasto Destined to memories and The traveling theatre of your dreams You navigate on seas now calm then rough Counseled by ghosts and gods Against pirates jealous of your light purse Guided by the stars Confused by the clouds Siphoned by currents You reach A new port, outside your map Charming you with strange music To set foot on dry land Behind you the horizon Absorbed your history and silenced the voices of the past So far away now That you take a new name.

Puzzle

There he is, dead, alone You cannot disturb him any more And you think that’s how he wanted it And you think your puzzle is incomplete. You look above for signs of an angel Taking away his soul As in the image in catechism. As in the image in catechism You remember the angel busy cleaning your soul But yours had cracks in it Caused by a fall Caused by you Causing eternal pain Causing unmanly tears retained Your head bounces on an aluminum locker Your head spins about unsaid words and questions Locked in for eternity Another mystery, as they had many You had to take for granted Your finger ventures its back On a one-day beard Your lips prohibited long ago On the freshly shaven cheek Reserved for a good housewife Now watching your gesture And you withdraw deeper Into a mound of puzzle pieces That will never come together.

The Story of a Marriage by Andrew Sean Greer

I live on the other side of the bay from San Francisco, so I listen to KALW radio. That’s how I heard his name, and his voice I think. So when I stood in front of his book at Moe’s one Sunday afternoon, an autographed copy, I thought I might be missing something if I stopped at the suggestion of the title: it would be a boring story of some successful marriage by perfect people. I read the first page, and thought this might be good. “We think we know the ones we love.” Okay, whatever, it’s still a happy marriage story. “Our husbands, our wives. We know them — we are them, sometimes; when separated at a party we find ourselves voicing their opinions their taste in food or books, telling an anecdote that never happened to us but happened to them.” I was ready to put it back on the shelf. I think I did. I took a walk to the literary remainders, you know, the $6 Everyman Library classic that you’ll get …

On Chesil Beach

On Chesil Beach: A Novel by Ian McEwan I love it, first because I could read it in two seatings (big novels are, how can I put it, intimidating, and lose me in the middle). OK, seriously: this is the second McEwan that I read (the other was Saturday), and every time I am enchanted by his craft, i.e. the way he forms sentences that flow and go back deep in the train of thought of his characters to tell you how they ever got where they are now. So, would anyone say, how can he keep you reading this story about the failure to have sex on the night of one’s honeymoon? For one, it talks about a huge myth, the one that makes people hang soiled sheets at the honeymooners’ window in Sicily. While reading it, I thought, “shouldn’t they just relax about it and talk, maybe see a counselor?” And that is what people don’t do. People assume they’re deficient. They build tension on trifles just because Love was suddenly distilled to …

Becoming a Writer

I’ll participate in a panel at Montreal’s Blue Metropolis Literary Festival called “Becoming a Writer,” in which I should talk about my experience with self-publishing and all the steps of the seemingly infinite ladder towards making one’s name emerge in a very crowded and noisy market. Of course, I’ll talk about having the book on lulu.com, more as something anyone should do if they’re not going through getting their work torn apart at an MFA program to shake them out of their bad habits. We always question that, we, the beginners. We don’t like to have our egos deflated as an exercise. Perhaps that distinguishes the hobbyists from the wannabe professionals. All the same, I feel that with the Internet and people’s changing habits, an Internet presence is necessary if you want to be an author and it doesn’t seem you’re in line any time soon for major recognition. Anyone can start a blog like this one on any free service currently available (if you don’t like google, try wordpress). The harder part is to …

sharing in the writer’s market

OK, I’m probably not reporting anything new by telling you about newpages.com because if you just google “literary magazines” or “online literary magazines” it shows up at the top of the results. I may even have heard about newpages.com, and it may even be in my browser’s bookmarks for what I know. Except that today, faced with another rejection letter and faithful to my promise to just keep submitting the same story to other magazines, I felt overwhelmed by the number of literary magazines out there. It became even more overwhelming once I found the lists at newpages.com A few days ago, I thought: I’ll start my own! I know how to make websites, and since I even own the web site, litbazaar.com, I might as well use it. That will take a long time. And there are so many out there! How many writers can there be? Some of the most obscure (to me until now) online magazines already post “no more submissions for now, please,” and it feels like arriving in a town …

issues of the day

Wow, I keep forgetting that the rest of the U.S. out there is really strange. They keep thinking whoever isn’t like them, i.e. ignorant, is dangerous. It reminds me of what we learn about the Middle Ages, and frankly the U.S. has been plunging into something like its own version of the Middle Ages for a while now. It’s amazing that today, with technology that would allow anyone to get a proper education, we can hear them. There’s the case of Sally Kern, a State Rep from Oklahoma spreading her message of hate and bigotryhttp://www.victoryfund.org/files/listening.html And then, much more to worry about the loss of civil liberties that is now an institution, a University professor in Florida was arrested and jailed because he’s Palestinian, lost his job, has been in prison for no reason for five years… http://www.democracynow.org/2008/3/21/al_arian_enters_19th_day_of This is so much bigger than it seems. We see the tip of the iceberg, and we do nothing because we think Obama or Hillary will fix it. But I’m pessimistic.

It’s About a Sweater

Berkeley, November 16, 2002 Dear S., I am returning this sweater to you in this package addressed to the last place I know you lived. Yes, it is an old sweater that maybe you don’t remember, or if you do, the burden of claiming it from me was too formidable… I understand. I could not imagine trying to contact you since the day you left. The whole letter in PDF format at http://www.heatingupthefog.com