The windings down of January

This blog, for some reason, has always tormented me. I'm a writer, and a prolific one at that, but for some reason it's easier for me to write 50,000 words on Algerian-French relations that write 200 words potentially every other day for this forum.

My return to journaling has been a success. I have managed to write in that every day, every once in a while twice a day. Does it make sense that sometimes I need a sense of connection and reflection in my own life? I think that the technological advances and the speed with which everything changes and is communicated to use might be more detrimental than helpful. Our lives keep speeding up, and I don't want to barrel forward like a speed train. I need more stillness.

January started on very uplifting notes. I won an attendance contest at work and got a $250 Target gift card. My grades came in higher than I expected. I had a really awesome job interview with a nonprofit that supports work I really could support.

But the last week or so seems very bogged down in real world worries, the kind of stuff you can't control. I know I should be thankful that our credit with our fuel oil supplier has covered two fuel drops so far this winter, but instead I worry about how I'm going to pay for the next one. Okay, so maybe not really, but that's the logic my mind follows.

This was back-to-school week for Lafayette College. This also seemed bittersweet because it's my last semester. I don't have classes, only my honors thesis. So I registered for NCUR and looked at the other accepted abstracts from my school. There's someone else doing a presentation on the veil and France. My adviser is trying to facilitate a meeting between the two of us.

I printed out a draft of my honors thesis yesterday and am working on a line by line hand edit. I hope to hand something in to my adviser Tuesday.

I also attended a workshop via the Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group on POD with CreateSpace. I'm tempted to publish a werewolf novella as a test. I certainly know the people who could make sure we develop a quality product. I've been against various forms of self-publishing for many years. The two main reasons are that many authors publishing their work independently don't have the skills to create a quality product and the idea that independent publishing can imply that an author does not work well with others.

I have a background in newspapers and some experience in desktop publishing. I went to the workshop interested in the technology. While I sat there I realized two things:

1. I have not done anything with my work for almost two years. No querying, so serious research. I've done some writing and some editing but none with a goal in sight. I've been busy with school and life, but I've also been watching the trends of the publishing industry to understand where I might best succeed. Or perhaps fit.

2. I have a distinct vision of how I want my books to look. I know the artists and graphic designers and even editors that I would love to have working with me.

So, if I'm not doing anything anyway, why not try a POD project?
And if I know what I want it to look like, any other publisher won't allow me that control.

Worth pondering.

Honors update

Somehow, as I transition into what my new routine of normal might be for 2013, I have managed in three days to edit 42 pages of my undergraduate honors thesis. It's been more fun and more thought provoking than I thought it would be.

This project has moved in directions I never thought it would, including an invitation from my College to present at the National Conference for Undergraduate Research (NCUR). What began as an invitation from my faculty adviser in the wake of Hurricane Sandy received a pledge of financial support from the Dean's Office so if I get accepted by the NCUR folks, I may be presenting this piece in Wisconsin in April.

While that is pretty exciting, it's also intimidating. It's transformed something personal and fun into something that will see broader audiences. In a way, I lament that change.

I won't hear from the NCUR people for another two weeks, but it's certainly transformed how I look at my own work. The difference between what we do for ourselves versus what we do for presentation to others... Psychologists might say I know my material and getting out there to share it will only enhance my performance.

Familiar Advice

My written French is sloppy. My favorite native French French professor at Moravian (who served as a rough template for Étienne, at least in terms of physical mannerisms) has a habit of not returning papers. I have heard over and over that my errors are small and that as my French continues to develop I'll work beyond them.

It's frustrating. I know I misuse pronouns and prepositions, but I can't tell you how, or how I need to fix them.

So, in January, I gave my ungraded papers to a native French French professor at Lafayette and asked he could help articulate my errors.

Last week, we sat in his office and read my paper on the modern French economy that was my take-home final exam. He did line edits and we talked about the words. 90 minutes of French grammar. I loved it.

As I sat there, most of the advice felt very familiar, so I thought I'd share it with you. It's the same "stuff" we deal with as writers...

• He very apologetically told me my errors stemmed from French I. I have forgotten key bits of my foundation, taught twenty years ago. A language has a clearly-defined form, and often, at the time we learned it, we were not interested. When we realize we have ideas to express, we have to revisit those rules. We like to believe that grammar doesn't matter, that a writer has poetic license, that we'll write in our speaking voice. To master the craft, we must know our basic grammar. Without doubt or hesitation.
• He asked me if I was interested in economics. The answer was a resounding 'no.' (And I cringed with memories of last semester's economics class.) I was writing about something that challenged me. As he pointed out, while he could decipher all my ideas and they were good ideas, he talked about the importance of knowing the language specific to the areas I wanted to talk about, the fields I might look to for a career. Then, I could learn the vocabulary that is unique to that field. English is the same. As writers, we have to learn a plethora of vocabulary for our stories. The occupations of our characters must ring true. So we need to learn their vocabulary.
  
• He suggested reading written material that I would like to emulate. If I want to be a journalist in France, I have to read the newspaper (which, unlike here, they do not write articles in the past tense. They write in the historical past tense, a tense I avoid). If I want to be a poet, I should read Beaudelaire. Doing this would help me develop the proper vocabulary mentioned in the previous item AND develop my French syntax and style. Writers constantly are reminded to read the authors they like and to read widely in the genre they write.
  
• He reminded me not to make my life difficult. When I'm reading those things I'm interested in, I need to note, either mentally or in a notebook, the words and phrases that I like, that sound French, that would improve my writing. Especially if I'm writing a reaction to a specific book, I should mimic the words and structure of that book, making the author's phrases my own. For the English writer, this would mean noting unusual words and how they are used. Similar to the earlier bit of advice, but this does include the idea of copying. Don't plagiarize, but use their words for practice, play with them.
• Use native speakers. A native speaker will engage you and appreciate your efforts to learn the language in ways a non-native speaker can't. Of course, if you're in France, this means you're submitting yourself to unknown levels of abuse. For the English writer, this means finding people who have a mastery in areas you know you lack. Learning something as personal as language involves hurt, our feelings get bruised. That's okay.
• Stop thinking in English, like an American. In the case of French, this means surrounding one's self with the language. Movies, music, books, news broadcasts, conversations... But for the writer, it means learning to think like an artist, which means surrounding one's self with similar things. As Jean-François put it: No matter how many drafts and edits you do, your thought process will always show.