State of the Union
I went to work around eight today and got back around seven. I don't even know how many hours that is. I don't want to know. Knowing would depress me.
If you told me a year ago that I, Emily Queen of Slack, would be putting over eight hours in behind anything that wasn't
a) a story
or
b) sleep
I would have laughed my ass off and then probably grumbled for a while about how I never made any money anyway, why the fuck should now be any different. Don't get me wrong. Not like I'm making money NOW or anything.
At least, though, this magazine gig has been good for my self esteem. I feel like I'm not a total hack anymore--or, more accurately, I feel like it's okay to be a little bit of a hack. No, I don't read Chuck Palanuik all day and publish slightly disjointed poems reflecting the quiet inner unrest of today's youth in the school literary magazine. I don't own a record player and a typewriter and my hair doesn't look like somebody cut it with a cheese grater.
And that's okay. It doesn't make me any less of a writer. I don't know how exactly I'd gotten to the point where I felt like image was nine tenths of the law, but thank God I believe we're past that now. Being honest, writing has never been a terribly private thing for me anyway.
A weird confession: I'm tired of being young. I'm tired of 'young' poetry. I'm tired of principal and dewy-eyed idealism and having shits I don't even know come up to me and try to tell me why I am or am not a writer. News flash: I AM a writer because I WRITE THINGS. It's that simple. This isn't a huge philosophical debate. There's no noble pennant of authorship to be waved around here.
Another note: I have heard no less than three people use the following phrase in the last two days.
"That's so Establishment."
Oh, God. I...I just can't comment on it. Jesus H. Fuckin'. Christ.
Any rate, I'm going to stop making fun of people now, because it's very unbecoming.
I have some interviews tomorrow and am readying my sad-sack digital recorder for that very purpose. No one else in the office uses them--I've never understood this. It feels weird not writing while people are talking, sure, but there's no better way to make sure you have everything correct than to have it on playback.
I really need a new digital recorder. I don't know if any of you have any experience buying them--I certainly don't--but perhaps someone has a suggestion as to what I should be looking at? It doesn't need to have a lot of space on it or anything, an hour or two is about as long as my interviews get.
Even though I should be saving my money up for that, I'm going thrift store diving tomorrow. Because I'm that cool, yes.
I went to the gym today and practiced my kicks for the first time in forever. My roundhouse is weak as hell. My mother, who went with me, can still pretty much beat the shit out of me. In my defense, she's been doing this for many years and I've been having knee troubles since somebody whacked me with a fucking piece of wood in Decemberish. In her defense: she's nearing fifty and slightly overweight. And, um, my knee doesn't really hurt that much any more.
If it wasn't my ass she was kicking, I would say it was pretty cool she could kick my ass.
Btw, the new Bjork CD is shit-your-pants awesome, as is the newest Wilco CD. I don't know if anybody here likes Wilco, but damn--they picked up Nels Cline somewhere. He is awesome. And I never thought I'd say this, but ummmm.
So is Wilco.
If you told me a year ago that I, Emily Queen of Slack, would be putting over eight hours in behind anything that wasn't
a) a story
or
b) sleep
I would have laughed my ass off and then probably grumbled for a while about how I never made any money anyway, why the fuck should now be any different. Don't get me wrong. Not like I'm making money NOW or anything.
At least, though, this magazine gig has been good for my self esteem. I feel like I'm not a total hack anymore--or, more accurately, I feel like it's okay to be a little bit of a hack. No, I don't read Chuck Palanuik all day and publish slightly disjointed poems reflecting the quiet inner unrest of today's youth in the school literary magazine. I don't own a record player and a typewriter and my hair doesn't look like somebody cut it with a cheese grater.
And that's okay. It doesn't make me any less of a writer. I don't know how exactly I'd gotten to the point where I felt like image was nine tenths of the law, but thank God I believe we're past that now. Being honest, writing has never been a terribly private thing for me anyway.
A weird confession: I'm tired of being young. I'm tired of 'young' poetry. I'm tired of principal and dewy-eyed idealism and having shits I don't even know come up to me and try to tell me why I am or am not a writer. News flash: I AM a writer because I WRITE THINGS. It's that simple. This isn't a huge philosophical debate. There's no noble pennant of authorship to be waved around here.
Another note: I have heard no less than three people use the following phrase in the last two days.
"That's so Establishment."
Oh, God. I...I just can't comment on it. Jesus H. Fuckin'. Christ.
Any rate, I'm going to stop making fun of people now, because it's very unbecoming.
I have some interviews tomorrow and am readying my sad-sack digital recorder for that very purpose. No one else in the office uses them--I've never understood this. It feels weird not writing while people are talking, sure, but there's no better way to make sure you have everything correct than to have it on playback.
I really need a new digital recorder. I don't know if any of you have any experience buying them--I certainly don't--but perhaps someone has a suggestion as to what I should be looking at? It doesn't need to have a lot of space on it or anything, an hour or two is about as long as my interviews get.
Even though I should be saving my money up for that, I'm going thrift store diving tomorrow. Because I'm that cool, yes.
I went to the gym today and practiced my kicks for the first time in forever. My roundhouse is weak as hell. My mother, who went with me, can still pretty much beat the shit out of me. In my defense, she's been doing this for many years and I've been having knee troubles since somebody whacked me with a fucking piece of wood in Decemberish. In her defense: she's nearing fifty and slightly overweight. And, um, my knee doesn't really hurt that much any more.
If it wasn't my ass she was kicking, I would say it was pretty cool she could kick my ass.
Btw, the new Bjork CD is shit-your-pants awesome, as is the newest Wilco CD. I don't know if anybody here likes Wilco, but damn--they picked up Nels Cline somewhere. He is awesome. And I never thought I'd say this, but ummmm.
So is Wilco.