Literary Weekend

I would have to say that this past weekend was the most literariest weekend I've had this year. It started with dinner on Friday night with my editor, Don Weise (above). He bought me dinner and we talked books. He said I should expect to look over cover art sometime in June. There might a chance that though "Talking to the Moon" is scheduled for a February 2007 publication, it might actually be in stores by Christmas!



Then we walked over to the Pacific Asia Museum to see my friend Andrew Lam (above) read from his first book, Perfume Dreams. Andrew is a remarkable writer. I had a blast seeing him. It was doubly special because writer Paul Bens was there, too.



After the reading, Don and I hung out some more and he told me that one of his authors on his fall list is the great Gore Vidal (above). It's apparently Mr. Vidal's last book of fiction, so there's a big buzz going around. If my book was published as planned it would have been on the same list as Gore Vidal's book of short stories. In a way, I'm glad my novel was pushed back to 2007. I'm sure my little book would have been passed over with all the attention Vidal's book would be getting.


On Saturday, I called Don to let him know what a terrific time I had and to see if he needed anything. Don handed the phone to an author he was lunching with. It was character actor Rip Taylor (above), who'll be doing his memoir with Don. Mr. Taylor says "Mabuhay!" to me and wants to know if I'll be observing the immigrant strike on Monday. He said Beverly Hills is going to shut down without the immigrants doing all the work. I couldn't help but laugh, because Mr. Taylor has this infectiously funny voice.


On Saturday afternoon, I finished reading a novel called "Behind the Moon," it's a book from Australia that's making its way to the US. I was asked to blurb it. I thoroughly enjoyed it and I'm sure it'll make a splash for the author Hsu-Ming Teo (above). I think 2007 will be the year of the "Moon" books. With her novel and mine called "Talking to the Moon" on the shelves.


On Sunday, I went to the LA Times Bookfair to see former writing teacher Hope Edelman (above). She's terrific. I went from booth to booth and got some free books on Buddhism. I ran into Andrew Lam, who was a panelist, and he took me to lunch at the Author's lounge. I ran into other writers I knew like Janet Fitch and Diana Wagman.


On Sunday evening, I did the Dead Poetry Slam for Smartgals, reading the poetry of the divine Ms. Gwendolym Brooks (above).


Whew! Oh, and somewhere in between I went computer shopping. I didn't buy anything--but I'm close!

Literary Travel

I'm a big fan of travel writing. This one was written by one of my favorite writers, Edward Albee. It's on Easter Island.


http://travel2.nytimes.com/2006/04/30/travel/30easter.html?th&emc=th

Literary Speakeasy

Smartgals is a terrific arts org. run by Christine Louise Berry. Smartgals does lots of fun stuff--I'd participated in many. This Sunday, April 30th, I'll be part of there Speakeasy, a secret literary event that requires a pass code to get it. Check it out.

http://www.smartgals.org/speakeasy/index.html

I'll be reading poems of the late great Gwendolyn Brooks!

Literary Grasping

I've been saving up for a new computer, a laptop. My old computer, a fossil from the last century, is giving me problems. I'd been looking at computers for months, but I'm shy of buying. You see, I have this little problem: I hate letting go--of anything! I hate letting go of money and my old computer. I hate to say that I'm stingy or cheap. I just have so much attachment to these things (There's a reason why Buddhists believe grasping is the root of suffering.) I ate cheaply, went to less movies, stayed home most Friday and Saturday nights to save up for a computer. It took several months of effort. Now, I don't want to let that money go, because I worked so hard to get it. The same with my old computer. I've written two novels on it, countless stories and essays. The keyboard is dirty from my greasy fingers pounding on it. I know money and a computer are just objects, but I attached memories, meaning to these things. It makes it hard to let go.

My last hold out is my car. I've kept it alive for 16 years. My car, Buster, has outlasted relationships. Buster has helped me move props to theatres, furniture to different apartments, driven me to writing classes, helped me take dates to dinner. I've made love in that car! (Okay, maybe that was too much information.) You get the gist. I can't see myself giving Buster up. I got it when I graduated college. My best friend Adele said Buster is almost college age himself and I need to let go of it.

Oy, I need to meditate on this.

Literary Waistline: Jollibee

I'm worried. Jollibee is a Filipino fast food chain. I've eaten at Jollibee in The Philippines and Filipino neighborhoods in California. Thus far I've always had to drive long distances to find one. Now, they'd just opened a Jollibee near me, on Beverly and Vermont. (I guess someone thought it would be a good idea to open this Filipino phenomenon near Filipinotown).

I told some of my friends that a Jollibee was opening up and they said, "Are you SERIOUS?!?!?"

I ate there this week. I almost cried. Where else can I get delicious fried chicken along with Palabok, a scrumptious noodle dish. I almost cried because Jollibee is pure comfort food. I almost cried because I know that when the writing isn't going so well, I'll be making plenty o' trips to Jollibee. I almost cried because I wanted to shed some pounds before my book comes out...and this will make my goal a little harder to reach.

Damn you, Jollibee! Damn you! (picture me falling over, beating the floor with my fists)

Literary Encounter: Chris Abani

After the rousing energy of James Ellroy, it was interesting experiencing the calm, steady force of Nigerian writer Chris Abani. He came around for his new book Becoming Abigail. Chris Abani began his time at the podium by discussing the problems of sex trafficing around the world. Without raising his voice, he had us transfixed.

It was good seeing Mr. Ellroy and Mr. Abani back to back. It just goes to show that there are different types of writers for different kinds of people.

Literary Encounter: James Ellroy

James Ellroy, author of The Black Dahlia and LA Confidential, packed the store. He's politically conservative and proclaimed himself as "the white Knight of the far right." He opens his reading by calling his audience "panty sniffers and pederasts." He's almost a complete opposite of who I am. So, why do I find him intriguing?

Maybe because I'd read his memoir My Dark Places, chronicling his rough life beginning with the horrific murder of his mother. He's a real character, an eccentric writer. I don't think he'd be allowed to behave this way if it weren't a novelist. Novelists are given a kind of permission to be weird, I believe.

I'd read that his day job was as a caddy. He lugged around gold clubs at country clubs to pay bills. He'd told he'd remained a caddy until his sixth book! I admire that kind of dilligence.

Literary Easter

With Easter coming, I'd been reading stuff on how Christian books are making it onto the shelves--and onto the bestseller lists. Christian books are all the rage.

Someday I hope to write the great Buddhist novel--well, a book using Buddhistic themes like impermanence, reincarnation, and karma. I'm already taking notes.

Literary Musing

You know, sometimes I wonder if I'll run out of things to write about--a scary thought! Then I came across this quote by Willa Cather (below):

"Most of the basic material a writer works with is acquired before the age of fifteen."

Literary Pregnancy

In preparing to market my novel, my publisher sent me six pages of questions to answer this week. My answers will help you, the reader, understand where my book is coming from. Some of those questions were about plot, my intentions in writing the novel, which media outlets should get an announcement about my book. My favorite question: Are there any questions or topics about you, your book, and your life that you would like us (i.e. the media) to stay away from?

My response: Please don't ask about the years I had a perm.

It was exciting to get movement on my novel. I realized that 2007 is only nine months away. Next year, I would have given birth to a book! This questionnaire signals my first trimester.

Literary Jokes

I teach writing classes for UCLA Extension. There's always someone in my class who will ignore tense. Being a dork, I will say, "Your tense makes me tense." Hahaha. I'll get blank stares while I'm laughing my ass off. I came across this little cartoon that made me laugh. I'm sure most of you will be looking blankly at the screen.

Literary Photo: Part 3

I think I'll use this photo of myself safari hunting on the jacket of my book. What do you think?

April Fools!

Ha! That's not me. That's Ernest Hemingway. Gotcha!

Literary Sex

It comes as a surprise that writers screw around. New York Magazine has this take on Erica Jong and Edmund White, writers who recently published memoirs chronicling their sex lives.

http://newyorkmetro.com/arts/books/features/16509/index.html
Someday, I'd like to write such a book. I better start my research.

Literary Encounter: Michelle Tea

The writer's life has been making great movies: Truman Capote, now Grace Metalious. The truly awesome Michelle Tea (left) dropped by to talk up her new book "Rose of No Man's Land." I asked her if her life was made into a movie, who would play her. She responded, "Zooey Deschanel. She's really wonderful and great to look at."

Michelle, Zooey (right) ain't got half of what you got.

Literary Grace

I was inspired to write this post after reading the March Issue of Vanity Fair that profiled writer Grace Metalious and the 50th anniversary of her novel Peyton Place. Several years ago when I was touring New England, I read Peyton Place (about the underbelly of a New England town) on the train. Oh, what a wonderful time in my life that was: I was performing my second solo show "Master of the (miss) Universe," doing reading/signings of "Letters to Montgomery Clift," and my father was still alive.

I became curious about Ms. Metalious and googled her. What a tragic life she'd led--dirt poor, instant fame, then dead of alcoholism at 39. It's the stuff made for a Hollywood movie.

Maybe that's why Sandra Bullock will soon star as the tragic author in an upcoming biopic.

Literary Cold

Achoo! By Dose is stuffy, by head hurts. But thoughts keep swirling about on plot points for my next novel. No rest for a writer.

Literary Avalanche

There I was minding my own bizness, just sitting, listening to some strangers talk. Then out of nowhere... an idea for a story popped into my head. Just like that. The story wasn't sparked by anything as far as I can tell. It just appeared. At first, I dimissed it, thinking: I have waaaaay too many unfinished stories in my computer already. I didn't need another one. But the story wouldn't go away. It kept coming and coming. The less I tried to think about it, the more it persisited. It was followed by voices ("Did you see the news?" "Yes, I'm on it."), then images popped into my head (a crowd of people, a sniper), then names floated by (Blake, Gloria), themes inundated me (it's about sacrifice, no, it's about greed). I was overwhelmed, inundated. Finally, I caved in and started outlining the story, hoping to satisfy the rush of demons in my head. At this time, the story is called "Martyrs, Inc."

Literary Correction: Not Quite "There"

What I love most about my literary life is knowing people who will correct me. Writer Mark Haile read through my blog and saw my post on "Literary Oakland" (11/13/05). I wrote that Gertrude Stein (left) insulted Oakland, stating, "There's no there there."

Mark e-mailed me this...

"About that Gertrude Stein quote: it's famously out of context, (although San Franciscans take great delight in repeating it) as it was actually from a visit she made to her childhood home, where she was dismayed to see that it had been torn down (it's now in downtown Oakland). She had written much from memory about her happy childhood spent there, and was shocked to discover there was not a physical trace of her childhood left."

Literary Words To Live By

"How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live."

Henry David Thoreau

Literary Bookstore: Vromans

Vromans is one of those bookstores you've GOT to visit. I'll be on a panel with MONA GABLE and CHRISTOPHER MEEKS offering insights and tips on the writing life (like buy a pen). And it's free. C'mon down if you got the time.

Vroman’s Bookstore
695 E. Colorado Blvd, Pasadena, CA 91101
Friday, March 17, 2006 ~ 7:00pm – 8:00pm

Literary Clothes

I feel like I've been writing intense things lately. What with all the talk of death and lunar cycles and name calling and such. So, this post is pure fluff.

I've been preoccupied with clothes. More importantly, literary clothes. Maybe this has something to do with the fact I watch Project Runway when I can't write anything worth mentioning. Now, having hosted litarary events at Skylight for five years, I've seen writers wear all sorts of things (biker jacket, Rick Moody; tuxedo shirt over jeans, Dave Kipen; black turtle neck, Bernard Cooper; Polo button down and kacki's, James Ellroy).

Two items that I'm saving up for: a tweed coat and black leather blazer. One says classic writer, the other says sophisticated writer. What do you think makes up a literary look?

Literary Death: Octavia Butler

Oh, this hurts. This really does. I read her novels "Parable of the Sower" and "Parable of the Talents" at one of the bleakest moments of my existence. There was a lot of movement in my life and I couldn't seem to ground myself. A phrase from these books kept resonating with me: "God is Change."

She was classified as a science fiction writer, but her work went far and above this genre. She wrote about race and class and religion and war and love and hate and family and enemies. Reading her work was a life affirming experience. I understood that writing can make a difference. Read all about it: http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/local/6420AP_WA_Obit_Butler.html

Literary Moon

This month offers the Lunar New Year, a real big deal in many Asian cultures. I'd attended a couple Lunar celebrations. The last one will be this Tuesday. I'd been pondering the Moon. The Moon has significance in my second novel (That's why it's called "Talking to the Moon.")

In my research, I discovered my ancestors planted and harvested rice using the lunar calendar (until Chirstian missionaries came along insisting that they change over to the solar calendar).

When I was in The Philippines a few years ago, farmers were drying rice on the sides of the road. We sped by with what seemed to be miles of rice. The rice being the color of the moon in this picture.

Literary Criticism

In the last issue of Frontiers Magazine, the fine writer Michelle Tea gracefully criticized the scam artist known as JT Leroy. She said that his fake, queer, literary persona was a betrayal to the lesbian, gay, trans, bi community who so rooted for him and cared for him as one of our own.

I wrote a letter to the editor thanking him for including Michelle's commentary. I also added by two bits, which weren't so graceful. I called Leroy "a good-for-nothing-lying-shitfaced-sewer-rat." It was printed (with my permission) in the current issue.

After reading it, I couldn't believe I voiced my opinion in such a brutal way. Could I have said it in a more appropriate manner? Then I thought: why should I censor myself? That's how I truly felt. Then I thought: But, Noel, you want to be a kinder person this year, remember? Then I thought: Screw kindness. Call a turd a turd. Then I thought: Yeah, but lovingkindness is my goal. Regardless of how I felt, I should have engaged in compassion.

Then quickly: Let it go, Noel. Just let it go.

Literary Inspiration: The Beauty Conference

I was asked to participate in "Beauty and Power In Filipino/American Communities" at UC Berkeley over the President's Day Weekend. Artists and scholars were gathered to seriously explore "Beauty." I didn't know what to expect, but I was truly inspired by the content of the conference. I was moved by old pictures of past Filipina beauty Queens (like the one pictured, circa 1932). I was reminded of just how many stories there are out there that need to be written about.

Lest you think this was a day of fluff, let me share with you the papers presented at the conference:

1. "Where Did You Get that Gorgeous Black Ballerina Dress?": Filipino American Postcolonialism and Modernity through Beauty" by Shirley J. Lim (Assoc. Professor in History, SUNY at Stony Brook.
2. "The Ideal Filipina" Filipina Americans and Queen Contests, 1920's-1950's by Dawn Bohulano Mabalon (Assistant Professor of history at San Francisco State University)
3. "The Lovely Nowhere": What the Exclusion of Filipina/o Americans from US Racial Discourse Implies for Issues of Gender/Sexuality by essayist Elizabeth H. Pisares
4. "Malakas at Maganda: Debutante Splendor As An Instrumental Cultural Resistance and Empowerment for Filipinos in America" by Evelyn Rodriquez (Assistant Professor, University of San Francisco)
5. "Avoiding the 'F' word(s): Filipinas and Fat" by Joanne L. Rondilla (Graduate Student, UC Berkeley)
6. "On Imeldific Beauty" by Roland B. Tolentino (Visiting Fellow, National University of Singapore)

The conference touched on racism, classism, feminism, and alot of other isms that I find interesting. I was flattered to be asked to be part of the discussion.

Literary Encounter: David Kipen

David Kipen has made a career talking, writing about books. He started a new job last year as the Director of Literature for the National Endowment for the Arts. Mr. Kipen is one of the most interesting people you'll ever want to meet. He has a book called the "Schreiber Theory" which discusses the important role of the screenwriter in film. Let's face it: a writer for the screen doesn't get the same kind of recognition that a novelist or playwright would get. "The time is ripe," David said, noting that the Nobel Prize went to the first screenwriter ever. Prize winner Harold Pinter wrote for the screen as avidly as he did for the stage. Some of Pinter's work for the screen included "The Last Tycoon" and the adaptation of "The French Leiutenant's Woman." Here's to the screenwriter.

Literary Apology (in advance)

I saw Capote this week. I was terribly moved by it, particularly the angst of trying to get a book done. There's a point in the movie when Capote just wants the book to end. He had given four years of his life to it and he just wants it to be over with (even at the horrible expense of others). In writing my second novel "Talking to the Moon," I simply wanted the whole thing to be completed so I can go on with my life. I work a full-time job (along with other part-time gigs that may come my way), so my writing time was limited. I cancelled appointments, didn't return phonecalls or e-mails just so I could focus on completing the story. I lost friends over this, I'm sure. In my last post, I wrote about FINALLY reaching 75, the number of pages I needed to fully commit to a book. I think I understand why it took me so long to leap into that magical page: It's a pain to make that committment to write another novel again: the worry of doing justice to the characters; the research I'll have to do to make the plot plausible; the waking up in the middle of the night to jot down a few sentences that might make the story work--or not. All of this taking months, years even. Then after going through all of this, there is the possibility that no one will want to publish it. This is what I'm committing to when I touched down on page 75. To all my friends reading this, I apologize in advance for not returning your phonecalls, your e-mails, for not making your birthday parties and anniversaries, for not listening to your joys and problems, for not being there when you need me most. If you need to cut me out of your life for being a poor friend, an unconsoling shoulder, I'll understand. I am so sorry in advance. I'll be writing.

Literary Seventy-Five

Don't laugh. Somewhere, in the back of my brain, I thought that if I could just reach 75 pages of my next novel, I would HAVE to complete it. I believed that 75 pages would be a substantial amount of work that turning back would just be plain stupid. Keep in mind those pages are made up of character sketches, rough plot points, and notes to myself (like "write about Uncle Bernie here" or "Describe how protagonist steals bus from nun"). I'd been hanging out on page 74 for months. Well, I reached 75. Now, the next course of action is to print it out, go to the beach, read the sucker, and see how I can make the manuscript more of a real novel.

Literary Promise: A Book This Year

My agent called to see how I felt about my book being pushed back. He wanted to make sure that I wasn't frustrated or angry about it. (This call shocked me. An agent calling to check on the emotional well-being of a client? Especially when I know that I'm low author on his literary totem pole.) I told him I was fine with it. My New Year's Resolution: "Roll With It."

We got to talking about other things, particularly about writing full time. He said some authors make it a point to write a book a year, so they don't lose their readership and gain more of an audience base. A book a year?!?!?

I got to thinking. My first novel was published in 2002. My second novel will be published in 2007. That's five years between books. At this rate, my third book won't be out until 2012! For some reason that did not sit well with me. I feel like I have lots of books inside of me and at the rate I'm going, if I write till I'm 100, I still won't have written all the books I'd wanted to write.
(I'm still awed about how Jack London had written some 50 volumes of novels, short stories, and essays by the time he died at 40; see Novemeber Post: "Literary Oakland")

I realized I needed to start crackin' if I want to say all the stories I need to say. I found myself uttering these words to my agent: "I'll have my next book to you this year." Hala!

It' nose-to-the-grindstone time.

Literary Waiting

It can take 12-18 months for a novel to come out once a publisher acquires it. My second novel was bought last spring. I thought it would be coming out this fall. Alas, it's been pushed back to Winter 2007. So, I'm gonna take a nap. Wake me next year.

Literary Low: Nasdijj

Where to start. Another literary fraud. This time it's a Native American writer named Nasdijj who wrote a memoir about caring for his dying son with AIDS. A friend insisted I read this book. I bought it and saved it for a special time when I was prepared to read a person of color's experience whose life was truly affected by AIDS. It turns out, he is NOT Native American and he did NOT care for a child that died of AIDS. This is a new low.

Literary Death: Wendy Wasserstein

Playwright Wendy Wasserstein, known for writing breakthrough womens roles (most notably for "The Heidi Chronicles"), passed away of cancer. She was 55 years old. Young, way too young.

Literary Life: My First Column!

Arts and Understanding (A&U), America's AIDS Magazine, said yes to a column idea of mine. We'd been going back and forth about what I could possibly contribute to this magazine that's currently celebrating it's 15th year of existence. The magazine started at about the time I started to do AIDS work. Then it came to me: why not do a column on those who have managed to work in the AIDS field for quite some time, atleast 5 years or so. The column, called "From the Trenches," would explore how these fine people keep going in a field where people usually leave after two years.

It'll be a quarterly column and it debuted in the January issue. I wrote about the inspirational Terri Ford, a woman doing AIDS work for 16 years now!

Literary Fray Over Frey

Enough. Enough. Enough. Enough. I'm going to explode into a million little pieces if I hear one more thing about James Frey and his memoir. Enough, enough, enough. Please, please, please. All of this will cause me to drink and smoke again. Please! Stop!!!

Literary Passing: Dr. Betty Berzon

I got a call this morning that a vanguard of the queer literary scene passed away. Dr. Betty Berzon, a psychotherapist who promoted the well being of queer lives, won a Lambda Literary Prize for her memoir "Surviving Madness".

She had worked on several books on queer mental health, including "Positively Gay." She did a lot of work in educating everyone about the problems and solutions of being queeer in America.

I had the pleasure of meeting Ms. Berzon when she would support events at Skylight Bookstore. I also had the honor of interviewing her for a magazine piece on the 10th anniversary death of her friend writer Paul Monette.

She is survived by her longtime companion, Terry deCrecenzo. (I can't begin to tell you how heartbreaking it was to get that phonecall.)

Literary Meditation

I take meditation very seriously. I can't properly start my day without meditating. What makes this experience imortant to me is having the time to feel truly calm and have a mind clear of obscuring thoughts.

Lately, my mind has been filled with plot points and character sketches. It's been seeping into my meditation sessions. It's become a double edge sword. I love having creative thoughts, but I know that it defeats meditating, a practice that asks me to have an "empty" mind.

Anyone out there in cyber world have any suggestions?

Literary addictions

It is widely known that writers have some of the most addictive personalities. Of course, some of the addictions got the best of them. Some writers who have died from alcoholism include novelist Grace Metaloius and short story writer Raymond Carver. Of course, writers from Poe to Capote were also known to get sauced!

Then there are smokers like Hunter S. Thomposon (pictured) and Ernest Hemingway (also a drunk).

I confess that I used to drink and smoke. I thought all that shit helped me create. I hadn't had a drop of booze in 13 years and I recently honored my first year of being smoke free.

I've never been more creative.

Literary Fake Out?

I'm still spinning over the fact that JT Leroy, the much hailed writer who wrote sad, intense stories about abuse and prostitution, isn't real. I'm spinning because I met the "guy" when he came to Skylight to promote "his" work. We were all warned that he was highly protective of his identity and wore a blonde wig to conceal himself.

He didn't read his work. Actors and musicians read for him. A bandmember from Nine Inch Nails was one of the readers.

JT LeRoy struck me as a damaged creature and I felt sorry for him. Now, I want to kick him, especially since part of his identity was to make people believe he was HIV positive.

Literary Controversy

I caught the Larry King Live interview with James Frey, the writer who has been under fire for embellishing his memoir. I knew that this category of "memoir" would confuse people. I'm glad that this little controversy took place, so there can be a clearer delineation between memoiric writing (taken from one's own memory) and autobiographical writinig (event driven).

Mr. Frey was a gracious guest, simply stating that what was being questioned in his book stood for a mere 5 percent of his story and the central themes of drug and alcohol addiction should take center stage.

This is not the first time books of nonfiction have been questioned: Alex Haley's "Roots" came under fire for historical accuracy and Carlos Bulosan's "America is in the Heart" because his adventures seemed too overwhelming for one person.

The high point of the evening was when Oprah herself called in to stand by her recommendation. I love live TV.

Literary DC

I'm in DC for a conference. I've been "monumenting" on my off time. My favorite is the Lincoln Memorial. Alot of greating writing is associated with this memorial. From "Four score and seven years ago" to "I have a dream."

Literary Quiz: He is the only US President who hasn't published a book by the time he took office. Who is he?