Another day, another trip across the country, back and forth to Dublin. Visited four libraries, but couldn’t take pictures. So here’s St. Patrick’s Catherdral from the bus:
I’m going to watch The Secret of Kells on iTunes.
Another day, another trip across the country, back and forth to Dublin. Visited four libraries, but couldn’t take pictures. So here’s St. Patrick’s Catherdral from the bus:
I’m going to watch The Secret of Kells on iTunes.
Welcome to November, when I start narrowing my focus and making choices about how I spend my time. For two months, I ran around trying everything offered and never refusing an opportunity to explore Ireland. I kind of had this policy that I would make myself follow through on every possibility, no matter how much it scared me. Someone even called me a culture vulture, and I was thrilled with that description. It all kind of culminated on October 31, when this 30-year-old woman went out on the town dressed in full fairy costume.
It’s catching up with me now. Time is tight, workload is increasing, and it’s freaking cold outside. On November 1, I skipped a volunteer wrap party (with free pizza) in favor of a frozen pizza and reading at home. On November 2, the rain and hail kept me from going out to use the free video rental coupons that arrived via email.
Today, November 3, was a tough one. I’m bound and determined to keep up with my pleasure reading while I work on my master’s. If I stop reading for pleasure, then there’s no point in pursuing a career in publishing. However, it’s not purely pleasure reading, because I have written a review of every book I have read since 2010 (first on Tumblr, then on Goodreads). Those reviews are kind of like mini-assignments I’ve given myself over the past 34 months.
I finished a book of short stories today, and wrote a review. I tried to be nice, given the whole criticism/Ruby Sparks issue I have been dealing with all week, but this book had a glaring error that I couldn’t ignore. I went to post the review on Goodreads, and I learned that the book has never been reviewed. It’s a new book, and it doesn’t even have an entry on Goodreads yet. My review, which focused entirely on some major flaws I found in the book, would be the first and likely only review – for a while anyway.
I decided not to post it. This is the first book in nearly three years that I won’t publish an opinion about… and I have posted some nasty reviews in my time. But I’m trying to be smart about this – it’s an Irish publisher, the proceeds of the book go to charity, and even though I’m in a publishing course and highly attuned to editorial misfires, I also know how easy it is to make a mistake. I just don’t want my negative (but fair!) review to be the only entry on Goodreads regarding this book.
There’s my tough choice of the day. Taking a hiatus from my three-year record of publicly stating what I think of the books I read so I can keep quiet about this one. I wonder if I’ll make a choice like this every day in November?

http://www.wordcounttool.com has been very good to me.
Our speaker today was Jonathan Williams, a literary agent in Dublin who also used to teach a course in the Literature and Publishing programme here at NUIG.
He mentioned that “books are always dealt with in thousands of words.” In the book business, no one talks about pages – at least, not in the commission/submission stage of the process.
If a publisher wants to commission a book and approaches the agent in the search for a writer, they will talk about the project in terms of words. When hopeful authors submit their manuscripts to Mr. Williams, he prefers that the cover letter includes a note about the word count. Pages come much, much later in the process.
I have always thought in terms of word count, ever since college and up through my time as a freelance journalist and then a newspaper editor. The average news article is 300-400 words. Magazine articles run about 2,000 words. Novels are about 80,000 (although NaNoWriMo asks for 50,000).
Several of my loved ones, when hearing about my thesis, have asked “How many pages is that?” I have no idea. So based on my first essay and this words-to-pages calculator website, here is a quick break down of my assignments:
2,500 words = 10 pages double-spaced
5,000 words = 20 pages double-spaced
And my 18,000-word thesis? That’s about 75 pages.
Do not be critics, you people, I beg you. I was a critic and I wish I could take it all back because it came from a smelly and ignorant place in me, and spoke with a voice that was all rage and envy. Do not dismiss a book until you have written one, and do not dismiss a movie until you have made one, and do not dismiss a person until you have met them.
That’s Dave Eggers, and he’s right. Tearing down someone else’s work is not helpful or progressive or creative. It’s certainly nothing to be proud of… which is maybe why I’ve been so remorseful about my mean Ruby Sparks post.
Today, I was supposed to recalibrate my goals. In doing so, I was reminded that the start of November is also the start of National Novel Writing Month, during which participants write 50,000 words in 30 days. I may not be able to vote in the national election (my absentee ballot still has not arrived), but I can join my fellow Americans for NaNoWriMo.
I wrote 1700 words today, and I hope I can keep this up for the rest of the month. Quality is not the issue – it’s all about getting words on the page. Still, maybe by the time December rolls around, I’ll have a lot more empathy for writers of fiction (and screenplays).
I went out for Halloween last night, and spent some time with the other postgrad students from my course and the related Writing MA. We talked a little about where we saw our career paths heading, and before I knew it, I was expressing all this concern about how I might not have what it takes.
I’ve been feeling bad for posting that rant about Ruby Sparks, partly because it seems to imply that I didn’t “get” the movie. I understood what was happening. I saw the skewering of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope; I just didn’t think it was done well.
Still, the possibility that I might have somehow missed the point of the film (a lot of reviewers loved Ruby Sparks) started this spiral of self-doubt and I ended up spending part of Halloween night worrying about my future ambitions.
I started this program because I want to edit fiction, but what if I haven’t read enough to know good fiction when I see it? I don’t even have a literature course this semester. It’s the same with the job hunt – I really wanted to work in Irish publishing during my time here, but it’s looking less and less likely that it’s going to happen.
I’m hoping to use the start of a new month to sort of refocus on my goals and maybe recalibrate exactly what it is I think I’m doing here.
Forewarning: Tonight I purchased a ticket for Ruby Sparks fully prepared to hate it. I was not disappointed.
Ahem.
I admit to having a thing for Paul Dano. I overlooked him the first time I saw Little Miss Sunshine, but There Will be Blood piqued my interest and now the color-blind Nietzsche fanboy is totally my cup of tea. I even sat through Meek’s Cutoff for him.
He plays a yellow-livered coward in Cowboys & Aliens and more recently in Looper. Meek’s, Blood, and Cowboys were all westerns, and Looper is supposed to be a sort of reimagining of the western. I’m glad he’s getting roles, but I didn’t really like the idea of Paul Dano being typecast.
So when Being Flynn was closely followed by Ruby Sparks, I was kind of worried. I haven’t liked a movie about “the writing life” since I graduated from college, so I get kind of annoyed with previews that portray writer’s block. Paul Dano has that writerly look about him, but I would almost rather see him play supporting roles in westerns for the rest of his career than watch him stare winsomely at one more typewriter.
Being Flynn just seemed like a write-through-the-pain father/son story, but Ruby Sparks looked borderline offensive. He can manipulate a woman’s behavior? A woman whose purple tights barely cover her lady bits when he picks her up and carries her caveman-style down the street?
It was Ruby’s first lines in the preview that irked me the most:
I missed you in bed last night.
D’you get some good writing done?
[childishly licks spoon]
How… dumb. How thoroughly dumb.
Finding out that his female co-star wrote the film did not help matters. To clarify: Zoe Kazan wrote a screenplay where a man creates the perfect woman, and she cast herself as that perfect woman. Yeah, I want to see a film about the writing life according to Zoe Kazan.
This kind of reminds me of the kerfuffle about Lena Dunham when Girls premiered. People were annoyed that these privileged Gen Y-ers were essentially filming their lives and calling it art. Their defense was that someone can grow up rich and still have something meaningful to say, but I think what we’re getting at here is that normal people can’t get away with this. The rest of us go to public schools and get that sort of behavior beaten out of us by the other kids. We’re jealous, yeah, but it’s not of their money or their talent; it’s of their sheltered lives where this sort of thing is allowed, even praised.
Did I forget to mention that Zoe Kazan has rich, well-connected parents? And grandparents? And she’s – sigh – dating Paul Dano?
Over the past week, I did this whole thing where I read some Nick Flynn, then rented Being Flynn on iTunes, and finally dragged myself to the cinema to sit through Ruby Sparks (it opened later in Ireland than in the US, but it’s about to close here.) I treated it like an assignment, and boy did it feel like one.
A few weeks ago, Hadley Freeman tweeted:

All three of these films were excrutiatingly painful to watch. I don’t know if I’m just getting old, but they felt so formulaic: Wallflower had a checklist of teen-angsty issues that had to be crammed into the plot, and I liked Liberal Arts better when it was released 10 years ago and starred Zach Braff.
As for Ruby Sparks, well, the actress is a girl named Zooey Zoe, right? And by way of introduction, we see her riding a vintage bicycle rollerskating in sunlight while a voiceover describes her attributes and she’s from somewhere that’s not Los Angeles, like maybe Michigan Ohio and ohmygod we get a quick peek at her high school yearbook photo! Then there’s a scene where she and her love interest run around Ikea an arcade because they are just so twee and in love! But maybe he’s not seeing her clearly? Just like his sister brother cautioned? Conflict arises. And when it’s all over, he meets a new girl, but she’s kind of the same girl, because her name is the next season in the annual cycle purposefully left out of his latest novel.
Hadley does this better than I ever could, but I needed to get it off my chest. I walked home upset that people get to create vanity projects like Ruby Sparks while some really good ideas go underfunded. Luckily, Paul Dano pretty much disappeared into his role, so in my eyes, he made it through this movie unscathed.
Figures. Yesterday my outdoor activity was washed away by rain; today, my day of studying was blessed with gorgeous weather.
I did get out for a bit. I made myself sit in Eyre Square for a full 15 minutes. I drank an entire hazelnut cappuccino and listened to a busker playing French-sounding songs on his accordion, which were complemented by the presence of a beret-wearing gentleman reading on the bench across from me. I even pretended I was in Paris for a moment… then realized I was being un peu stupide. I am in Ireland. I don’t need to pretend I am somewhere else.
It seems appropriate that my Irish for Beginners homework is partially about the weather. Tá an lá go deas means “It’s a nice day.” The appropriate response is:
Tá sé go hálainn, buíochas le Dia. (It’s beautiful, thanks be to God.)
Please curl up with a book and stay safe during this storm.
There are few things sadder than braiding your fairy hair, fixing your fairy makeup, slipping into your fairy dress, debating over your fairy shoes, hooking into your beautiful fairy wings, and walking your fairy self all the way through town only to have the charity trick-or-treat trail called off after an hour due to torrential rain.
“Is this an effect of the Frankenstorm?” I wondered aloud as it started coming in sideways.
“No, this is just a rainy day in Galway.”
Why couldn’t it have been tomorrow, Bank Holiday Monday? I have plans to study all day tomorrow.
Today, I just wanted to play “Guess What’s in the Spooky Box,” give out sweets, and steal the souls of little Irish children. Was that too much to ask?
The big news in publishing this week is that Random House and Penguin publishers are maybe sorta kinda thinking of merging. This would effectively bring “The Big Six” down to “The Big Five.”
The question on everyone’s mind: Penguin House or Random Penguin?
I, for one, prefer Penguin House. It has a more timeless appeal than Random Penguin.
In trying to think of a clever joke that hasn’t already been done to death on the internet, I stumbled in the starting blocks, and am now fascinated by the name Random House.
Seriously. Am I just tired, or is that a really goofy name for a publishing company?
I finally got rid of the box that carried my fairy wings from Texas to Ireland (although I did save the pretty address calligraphy). It occurred to me, as I was bagging up the recycling, that even though my research on Kirkus Media led me to articles by Joe Gross and Michael Barnes, this packing material is the only edition of the Stateman I’ve touched in the past two months.