I never thought I'd attain my undergraduate degree, but I did, some years ago--at age 43! My alma mater is the sublime Marylhurst University, in Lake Oswego, OR (just outside of Portland). I am forever indebted to this intimate, beautiful liberal arts campus formed by Catholic nuns at the end of the 19th century. There I received a top-notch education from engaged, supportive but exacting professors, and enjoyed the sort of personal attention you can receive in classes that were most often comprised of 15-25 students! I am still in contact with several of my professors (and classmates), several who have since published their own books, as well as numerous scholarly works.

From the Marylhurst website you can learn this about their unique history: "Marylhurst University was founded in 1893 by the Sisters of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary. We are Oregon's oldest Catholic university, and were the first liberal arts college for women established in the Northwest. 

Our founding Sisters believed in educating the whole person through a rigorous liberal arts curriculum. Their mission of serving underserved students continues to inspire us today, as we welcome men and women of all faiths and backgrounds ..."

A few things have happened when I wasn't really paying attention! Nearly a month has flown by since my last post. Big no no in the world of cultivating an audience and so-called “brand.” I'm not cut out for this self-promotion.

I wrote two new short stories and have sent them out to literary journals. Each has already taken a rejection/hit, but I like these works and hope they’ll find a home. My Creative Non-Fiction piece, Secret Agent Man, was accepted for Fall publication over at The Writing Disorder (I’ll surely link it when it goes live). I’m a big fan of the work in that journal, as it exemplifies a certain west coast vibe which I feel is distinctive and warrants notice. Check out some works there, particularly Sophie Monatte's heartbreaking Thanatophobia.

There is a thriving world of FREE creative literary journals out there. You want a quick fix of a story or essay or poem? Google Literary Journals and see which names beckon to you. I like Drunk Monkeys, Monkey Bicycle (not sure what it is with monkeys and literature), The Writing Disorder Post Road, Bluestem, Tin House, Glimmer Train and Boulevard--oh, and The Story Shack off the top of my head.

Today Tin House linked over to Open Culture for a list of 8 suggestions for constructing a short story by Kurt Vonnegut. They are concise and helpful for every writer to bear in mind, or at least to try to only break one or two at at time:

1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
4. Every sentence must do one of two things–reveal character or advance the action.
5. Start as close to the end as possible.
6. Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them–in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.

While each has strong merit, I'm paying particular attention to #8, since I chopped such a beginning from a recent CNF that has been getting rejections. Maybe I'll add the old beginning back and try another few places before I give up on it entirely. I am also going to have #4 tattooed to the inside of my wrist--happily my most recently completed story passed this test. Finally, we all pretty much know that I'm already committed to #6.

In other news, what does this image have to do with anything?

If you've ever delved into feminist theory, you are aware of Judith Butler. She is one of my intellectual heroes and in my opinion one of the great thinkers of our time. I am more attuned to her notions on the socio-political, such as her thoughts on precarious life, terrorism and sovereignty. Although I understand her ontology regarding gender performativity and false heteronormative binaries (see graphic below), I still feel there is gender biology at work to some (perhaps miniscule) degree that tends to inform our identity. Still, the thinker Butler rocks, and what ontology isn't rendered clearer when interrogated by cats?

This is the first part of the Socratic dialogue:

I want to get off!

Dear World:

Please excuse Pamela from life today. She is--pardon the cliché--sick as a dog. Actually, if she were a dog she’d be healthy (a cold, wet nose), haha.

Any available cavity in her head is plugged and pulsing (see diagram below), and her throat is lined with cactus needles. She’s not hearing very well, and take it from me, she’s cranky. She feels sticky and inflamed and wholly unpresentable. As an aside she sliced off a section of her fingernail (luckily it was within the half-moon range) yesterday while chopping a tomato, which enhances her general dishevelment.

It was my intention to write a blog post of my own today, but a writer friend of mine posted this on her author wall, and it was simply TOO BRILLIANT to leave un-shared. Really cats are almost an unfair advantage in a writer's life ... and this one, Henri, is a priceless muse. I shall add his book to my Goodreads list!