Feeling Moved

My post today is less of a rant and more of a whine. I just want to say that the whole moving process -- seeing tons of possible new homes and finding something wrong with most of them, eventually picking a new place to live, getting a credit check and hoping they won't find something unexpected in your background (such as that you are a wanted felon, but had no idea of that fact), signing contracts, sorting through your stuff, packing it all up and watching the mountain of boxes grow to shocking sizes, carefully wrapping delicate items, worrying that said delicate items will break anyway, feeling guilt at how much you own (and how much of that you never actually use), hiring a moving company, feeling guilt at hiring other people to lift your heavy furniture and boxes and therefore trying to lift things yourself and thereby getting back pain, travelling to the new home, feeling stressed out about how much unpacking and organizing you now have to do, wondering how long it will take you to get settled in the new place and how many times you will reach for a light switch that isn't there or stumble over a step until you have gotten accustomed to the layout, and so on -- isn't much fun.

--Curly

The Classroom is Not a Democracy

I love these paragraphs in a new Poets & Writers article billed as "A Rant Against Creative Writing Classes":

This is a good time to mention a criticism that I’ve received not once, not twice, but several times on teaching evaluations: “The problem with Professor Barden is that he acts like he knows so much more about writing than we do.”

That could be the whole essay right there, don’t you think?

Part of the problem is a populist idea of democracy, a sacred cow in the academy, as elsewhere: We are all equals in our pursuit of literature; everyone has something to offer. One teacher friend of mine whose opinion I solicited on this topic said of his students, “They still teach me as much as I teach them.” What do they teach you, exactly? How to fall in love stupidly or that you should drink a lot of water during a rave?

In one memorable workshop, I spent a fair amount of time teasing out from my students the difference between a “master,” which was the degree that I had, and a “bachelor,” which was the degree that they didn’t yet have. Oddly enough, several students have expressed gratitude for that particular rant.

I'm grateful, too. It validates my own feelings too often in my own experience as a college-level teacher (not just in writing classes). But yes, it affirms some feelings I've had about writing workshops, too.

Read the entire article here.

--Prunella

Lazy Questioners and the Questions they Pose

Here's something (else) that irks me on discussion boards/listservs: lazy questioners and the questions they pose.

On one academically-oriented writing listserv I subscribe to, someone recently posted a question asking if anyone had the contact information for Professor/Writer A at University B. The query included both the professor/writer's full name and the professor/writer's current university affiliation.

Well, no. I didn't have that information offhand. But surfing over to the university's site, and searching its directory for the professor/writer's name, I found it easily. The original poster could have done the very same thing, and I can't believe s/he didn't realize this beforehand.

I wonder if anyone will, indeed, "backchannel" the original poster with the information I found. I hate to reveal my peevishness and say that I'm more inclined to hope someone simply tips the poster off to this not-so-amazing investigative tool to assist future queries.

--Prunella Peeve

Peeves Profiled on NPR

Apparently I missed a very relevant segment on National Public Radio (NPR) earlier today: "That (Annoying!) Thing You Do." I hope to find 16 minutes and 46 seconds to listen to the recording soon. Meantime, I've enjoyed some of the links I've found on the NPR site, including this one to an online discussion on peeves and this one to a Web site all about peeves (imagine that!).

--Prunella

Shut the BEEEEP Up!

I have trouble sleeping and I need whatever sleep I can manage to get. That's why I was very annoyed in the middle of the night when a loud car alarm woke me up. At first, I tried to ignore it and fall asleep again, because I thought it would end very shortly. But the owner of the car did not seem to hear it, which meant that the alarm continued for a very, very long time.

Beep beep beep beep beep. Short pause. Beep beep beep beep beep. Short pause. Beep beep beep beep beep. Short pause. Beep beep beep beep beep. Short pause. Beep beep beep beep beep. Short pause. Beep beep beep beep beep.

You get the idea.

What is the point of having a car alarm if you aren't going to be nearby when it goes off? And why do people never seem to be nearby when their car alarms start ringing? And why does this generally happen in the middle of the night?

As for me, I put in some ear plugs, wrapped a blanket around my head, and snuggled under the comforter. I could still hear the infernal beeping, though, and it kept me awake for a long time.

Beep beep beep beep beep!

--Curly

What Part of “Vegetarian” Don’t You Understand?

I’ve been a vegetarian for years (okay, I am a pescatarian and not a real vegetarian, since I sometimes eat fish, but anyway…) and most people who know me are aware of this. So why don’t people understand that being a vegetarian means that I don’t eat meat?

During a recent illness, people constantly suggested that I have chicken soup with matzoh balls. I like matzoh balls, but I will only have them in a vegetable broth. When I reminded those caring friends and relatives that chicken soup was not quite what the doctor ordered for this vegetarian, I was repeatedly told, “But it doesn’t count as chicken soup if it’s just chicken broth, does it?” Or “What if I pick the pieces of chicken out for you?” No, sorry, that’s still chicken soup!

At other times, I’ve been offered ham, liver pâté, and beef, among other meats, even after I’ve politely turned down these items because I don’t eat them. I’ve been told, “Liver isn’t real meat, so you can eat it on a sandwich!” And I’ve been asked, “Don’t vegetarians eat ham?”

So, just to clear up any confusion, no, vegetarians do NOT eat meat. Anything that came from an animal counts as meat and while I am not a proselytizing vegetarian and therefore won’t bother those of you who succumb to meat’s charms, I make the choice not to eat meat and I would like to see more understanding and respect for this decision.

--Curly

Pick Up the Phone!

Granted, I applied to graduate school in the days before people became accustomed to obtaining life-affecting guidance from strangers on internet discussion boards. But somehow, I think that if I were going through the application process today (say, for an MFA), and I had a question about a program's application guidelines (and/or financial aid application guidelines), I wouldn't rely on advice I solicited from random discussion board participants (who might or might not even deign to answer my query).

Rather, I'd follow one of these two not-so-complicated strategies: 1) I'd e-mail the relevant program directly, or 2) I'd telephone the relevant program directly. Call me crazy, but I believe in going to the source. I say as much when I see these questions posted online. But some very lazy people apparently just skip right over my advice, and issue their questions anew. So all that's left for me to say is that I'm just glad that I'm not going to be studying with (or, for that matter, trying to teach) these unmotivated, unresourceful people.

--Prunella

AWPeeve

Always happy to see others take up the ranting cause. Back in the literary realm, you can find some peeves related to the recent Association of Writers and Writing Programs (AWP) conference extravaganza in New York City posted over on the Ploughshares blog. Specific peeves listed there so far include "ridiculous panel descriptions" and "repetition in panel concepts." Hopefully more writers will chime in soon!

--Prunella

A Foggy Day

I was out driving yesterday in very foggy, somewhat rainy/damp weather. It was so foggy you couldn't see even half a block in front of you. Street signs and stoplights appeared quite suddenly, so one had to drive carefully and slowly. However, many people did not even have their headlights on, which made it impossible to see their cars. Not to mention the fact that where I was driving, there is a law that if you are going to have your windshield wipers on, the headlights must be on, and the dampness required wipers. I wish people would be more careful and observant, because I am sure some accidents could have been avoided if only drivers had put on their headlights.

--Curly