Literary Disappearance

I ran into a novelist I hadn't seen in almost two years. He apologized for not being around. He dropped out of society trying to write his book. He is venturing out into the world again, making social events and such. I laughed because many writer friends--especially those working on book length projects--seem to drop out for months, years at a time. Suddenly, they're around again, making readings, showing up on panels, feeling bad for not showing up. I don't mind. Only other writers know the importance of going away for long periods of time. Coming out of seclusion, breathing fresh air is a wonderful thing.

My response to anyone who leaves for literary reasons, then returns: "Welcome back. We've missed you."

Literary Itch

Here's a pic of Mark Twain reaching for an itch. I wonder if this has anything to do with writing.

I gotta tell ya, I have an itch. There's this book I wanna write and it's scary. I see it being this big monster novel spanning hundreds of years and hundreds of lives. For some reason, I see it being my seventh novel.

I'm actually thinking of going back to school to learn all about this particular subject matter so I can write about it.

Ugh! It's so frustrating wanting to write a book, but not having the necessary information to do it.

It's not like I need more to research. The third book that I'm writing has me reading books on religion, hemophilia, and homeopathic healing.

Literary Relations

It's a good idea to maintain good relations with those people marketing your book. Late last year, I e-mailed the head of marketing to introduce myself and let her know that I'm available for whatever press she'd like me to do. I told the marketing folks that I have a background in Communications and understand the job they must do. I made it a point that I don't want to be a headache to them.

This is good advice to aspiring writers out there: Be nice to the Public Relations people. They are the ones who try to get the word about your book into the world.

I used to do Public Relations for an arts organization. I would get phone calls from artists who made my life hell. They would demand that I contact this newspaper or that radio station. Some of them would YELL at me, wondering why they weren't on the cover of the LA Times. The last thing I wanted to do was get idiots like that press coverage. I'd rather they crawl under a rock and stay there. Apparently, they did; I never heard another word from those demanding, egotisical types.

I was a much younger man then and I SWORE that I'd never behave that way. I think I've kept my word.

Literary Stars

I'd been checking Amazon and noticed that there are two people who have already read and reviewed my novel. I was given four out of a possible five stars! Not too shabby. And the people who gave me the positive reviews are people I don't know!

Literary Highlights of 2006

So, Gladys, did a 2006 highlights. This inspired me to do one.

1. Most difficult Literary moment:
Doing rewrites for "Talking to the Moon." They were hard, but had to be done.

2. Most Literary Dinner:
Having dinner with James Ellroy at the Pacific Dining Car. He talked murder, rape, mayhem the entire time. I'll never forget it.

3. Most Literary Uplift:
Hearing the Dalai Lama interpret ancient Buddhist Text.

4. Most Literary Weekend:
The LA Times Bookfair, where I hung out with my editor Don Weise and lunched with writer Andrew Lam. I ran into other literati like Hope Edelman and Diana Wagner.

5. Most Literary Overload:
The Southern California Booksellers Associaiton Author Feast. Egad, ever been in a room with drinking booklovers? The gossip, the whispers, the dismay at the awards ceremony when a favorite author didn't win.

6. Most Literary Joy:
Getting high marks from my students at UCLA Extension. It's nice to know that I'm not spinning my wheels.

7. Most Literary Regret:
I didn't fisnish a draft of my third novel. Ho-hum.

8. Most Literary Purchase:
My computer. It's changed my life.

9. Most Literary Duty:

Moderating a panel about Los Angeles at the West Hollywood Bookfair. You can cover a lot of ground when discussing LA. It was work, I tell ya!

Literary Brunch

My family took me out for a birthday brunch over the weekend. What was most surprising is that my brother had a copy of "Talking to the Moon." He said he went into a bookstore to get something to read and there it was--my novel--smack dab on the table. He got it right then and there. The official publication date for my book isn't till February 13th, but it's slowly making its way into stores.

I singed his copy and I realised it was the very first copy of "moon" that I'd autographed. Whoa! It was a nice unveiling. My mother saw that I'd dedicated the book to my late father. She was touched by that.

Literary Musical

"Music and literature" are sometime said together, say on a board game. There can be music and there can be literature, but the musical (and opera) is a form that can actually fit into both. There's obvious music in a musical. There is also a plot, a protagonist, an antagonist--elements associated with the literary.

I love music and a really good story. Finding them working well together can be tough. There are a few musicals that really get me going. Into the Woods and Westside Story come to mind. And Dreamgirls.

I never saw it live on stage, but the music--oh, the music--is to die for. "And I'm telling you I'm not going" was a song that stuck to my bones. It is THE song from Dreamgirls, sung by the character Effie White. I saw the movie and just fell right into it. Jennifer Hudson (pictured) as Effie is really good, but Jennifer Holiday, the Original, was amazing. I'd heard the recording and saw her sing it live at an AIDS conference. (She'd slimmed down considerably.) I read an interview with Jennifer Hudson and even she says "And I'm telling you" is Holiday's song.

Keep this performance of Jennifer Holiday at the 1982 Tony Awards in mind when you see the movie. Hudson is good, but Holiday is...well, watch for yourself. (um, you may have to cut and paste it)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sq4uc9b2s1o&mode=related&search=

Literary Thirty-Nine

I turn thirty-nine today. The last year that I'll be thirty-something. I have so many books inside of me, I need to live till I'm 139.

Literary Ride

After sixteen memorable years, Buster, my poor jeep, needed to be set out to pasture. It was giving me waaay too much trouble and costing waaaay too much money to maintain. My family and friends were giving me grief for not letting Buster go years ago. "But Buster and I have gone through so much!" I whined. It has outlasted relationships, apartments, hairstyles. Unfortunately, it became a daily worry wondering if my car will get me to work or not. Alas, I had to let Buster go.

In 2007, with a new book coming out, I need to make sure that I could get around. I'd been shopping for weeks, looking for an affordable car. I settled on a used Chrysler. It's a wagon, so I thought of the boxes of "Talking to the Moon" I could haul to different readings and sell in the parking lot.

Literary Inward

Pick up the Winter Fiction issue of the New Yorker and read the Nobel Lecture by Orhan Pamuk. It's amazing. A sampling:


"When I speak of writing, the image that comes first to mind is not a novel, a poem, or a literary tradition; it is the person who shuts himself up in a room, sits down at a table, and, alone, turns inward. Amid his shadows, he builds a new world with words. This man--or this woman--may use a typewriter, or profit from the ease of a computer, or write with a pen on paper, as I do. As he writes, he may drink tea or coffee, or smoke cigarettes. From time to time, he may rise from his table to look out the window at children playing in the street, or, if he is lucky, at trees and a view, or even at a black wall. He may write poems, or plays, or novels, as I do. But all these differences arise only after the crucial task is compete--after he has sat down at the table and patiently turned inward. To write is to transform that inward gaze into words, to study the worlds into which we pass when we retire into ourselves, and to do so with patience, obstinancy, and joy."

These words just did it for me. I kept thinking: yes, yes, YES! It also is a piece about his father. This is the third holiday season without my dad. I still miss him.

(Oh, I was caught by the New Yorker cover. It's quite striking. Notice the lesbian kiss on the lower left.)

Literary Scoring

I teach "Introduction to Fiction Writing" for UCLA Extension. Every class, I get evaluated by my students. I taught the Fall quarter. Scores came in. The highest possible score is a 9. My overall score for the class is 8.8. My score as an instructor is 8.9.

It felt good to see these scores. I want to make the learning experience as fun as possible. It also reinforces that I'm making the right choices in my life.

It felt good, really good.

Literary Blogging

So, I've switched to this Beta Blogging--and I'm so confused! I e-mailed the new Blogging under Google because the comments section is all funny. I go through the Help section and find no help. Am I the only one?

I feel like my lips are moving but nothing comes out.

Literary Third

While my second book gets ready to be born, my third novel haunts me.

It's about a boy who bleeds...alot.

Literary Nothing

Earlier this year, I sent out a story for a contest. I didn't think I'd win. But I thought I'd get an "honorable mention." Yes! The winner was announced, along with a list of honorable mentions. I didn't make the list. Nothing!

I felt disappointment for a moment, just a moment. Life goes on. Looking back, I think I'd gotten more Nothing!'s than Yes!'s. I think that's why so many artist's will go on and on about piece that was published 15 years ago in the school newspaper. One Yes! covers all the Nothing!'s.

Literary Branding

I call this blog, "The Last Noel" because all my life I've been called the First Noel. If someone sings that darned Christmas song one more time, so help me....Well, I can't get away from the Firsts of my name as I was involved with two Firsts recently. I ran the First Los Angeles Half Marathon today--and it wasn't as painful as I thought it would be. Ur, the route went right by apartment, so I took a little break (went to the bathroom, changed running gear, and checked phone messages) before completing the remaining six miles.

The first issue of a new online journal made its debut not too long ago. It's called Subterraneans.
It is a "journal of lesbian and gay writing." And, yup, I'm in the first issue. www.subterraneansonline.com.

It's edited by Angela Brown, former Executive Editor at Alyson Books. They were kind enough to give new life to an old short story. It's called "Tito Abalez on the Brink of Manhood" and was published in the Asian Pacific American Journal several years ago.

http://www.subterraneansonline.com/tito%20abalez.html

Literary "Downpaging"

This is why my next book is coming out in soft-cover-- so my non-profit, artist, and other financially challendged friends and family will love me more. My second book can be got for less than $15!

"New releases of hard-cover novels cost $25 and more these days. If you buy just two a month, that's $600 a year."

From "Ten Sure Ways to Trim your Budget"

Read more from "Shouts and Murmurs" in the New Yorker:


http://www.newyorker.com/shouts/content/articles/061113sh_shouts

Literary Jest

Over the weekend, Skylight Books held an event honoring the 10th anniversary of the novel "Infinite Jest" by David Foster Wallace. Agent Bonnie Nadell filled in for Mr. Wallace who couldn't make it. Radio personality Michael Silverblatt extoled the book and the writer, saying if he can't interview a genius like Nabakov, atleast he is grateful to have access to David Foster Wallace.

"Jest" is a book I'd been meaning to read for the longest time, but the sucker is 1000 pages. It isn't exactly a light, breezy read. The stucture is supposed to resemble a calculus formula. Frankly, I find the book daunting and hope to read it in 2007. Oy!

Literary Skateboard

My car was in the shop and the bus stop is quite a walk away. Walking there, I thought, I wish I had a skateboard. (I can run for miles, so I save my legs for that. Walking close to a mile in hard soled shoes ain't good for the feet.) I went to Target and got a skateboard. When I got home, I got on my skateboard, coasted to 7-11 and got a cupcake. In the parking lot of the 7-11, with my skateboard in one hand and a cupcake in the other, I felt like a little kid.

I'm 38 years old and I felt like I was a boy with my whole life ahead of me. The parking lot, the taste of chocolate bread in my mouth and a long piece of wood with wheels under my arm, sent me to a far, faraway place. If you see me around Silverlake riding my skateboard, you know that I'm trying to catch a lost era of my life.

I had a skateboard when I was in elementary school. It was such a freeing time. I still remember it romantically. Maybe that's why I tried to capture a little bit of it in my second book. In this paragraph, the boy Emerson is still grieving the loss of Jun, his older brother.

"Sometimes on rainy days, he’d shut his door, and pull out the skateboard, pushing it from one end of his room to another. Sometimes Emerson pulled out the skateboard just to look at it. There were dark footprints from where Jun used to stand on it. The varnish was almost gone. The red plastic wheels were nicked and turning brown."

Literary Fifty

My agent called and asked me about the new book. I said, We should be getting galleys of Talking to the Moon soon. He said, "No, the NEW book." I blushed. I told him my third novel is coming along S-L-O-W-L-Y. I have to do things like work, which takes up a good amount of time and energy. This is nothing new. Most artists know what I'm talking about.

Earlier this year, I promised to get a new novel to my agent. Uh, I'm nowhere near. The least I could do is get fifty pages to him by the end of the year. It's no novel--hey, it's something.

Literary Running

I signed up for a race today, something I hadn't done in a long, long time. It's the first ever Los Angeles City Half Marathon--yup, thirteen miles, baby! It's happening on December 3rd. I'll be running through the literariest of neighborhoods--Silverlake and Echo Park--ending in downtown.

I did a really crappy eight miles today, basically walking the last two. Why am I doing this? Because I have pent up energy about my novel. Because I have the need to finish something wonderful by the end of the year. Because running this half-marathon will somehow remind of a time in my life when I felt physically and mentally strong. Right now, I feel like jelly.