My Other Hat

Update: You can read the story here, on the blog.

Last week I received the proofs from The Literary Review for a short story they’ll be publishing in Spring, 2010, in their Machismo(!) issue. Look for it on the newsstands of your finer establishments in the early summer. (Don’t worry, I’ll remind you.)

I’ve had my fiction and nonfiction published before, but this is especially satisfying for a few reasons.

  • The Literary Review publishes fiction, nonfiction, and poetry of the highest caliber. It’s an honor to have my work in its pages.
  • This story is part of a collection I’ve been writing on and off for many years now, and this is the first one to be published.
  • The Literary Review is published by Fairleigh Dickinson University, Madison, New Jersey. I’m from Jersey!
  • It’s the longest piece I’ve ever published.
  • It’s written in two very different, very distinctive, very not ME voices. Did I mention it’s in the Machismo issue?

In the meantime, if you want to read some of my work you can check these out online. They’re all short, each less than 1,000 words.

Creative Nonfiction: Mid-fall; Sundowning

Fiction (nominally): Lavender

If you read them, let me know what you think.

Thank you for letting me wear my other hat. Now back to donning my hipster filmmaker hat. It’s kind of a fez type thing.

“Will You Finish It in Your Lifetime?”

Sometime during the fourth year of production of A Life’s Work I recognized how long this film was going to take to complete and a joke was born: I’m making a film about people who may not complete their work in their lifetimes. Could I be a subject in my own film? (When I tell people about the film and how long I’ve been working on it, the joke often comes to them as well. “Will you finish the film in your lifetime?”)

At the start, I didn’t want to be in the film in any way. I figured my fingerprints were all over it so why should I stick my mug and voice in it, too? (I’ve softened on this stance, and my voice may be heard asking a question at a key moment, my figure may be somewhere in the shadows.)

There was a night, though, when I thought I would not only put myself in the film, but would star in it.

December 28, 2008. Childermas.* I woke up in the morning around the usual time but the room was spinning wildly. Imagine the worst drunk you’ve ever had and take that spinning and multiply it by 10. Like that. I found some relief when I laid on my left side, but otherwise, I was suffering from intense vertigo.

By the afternoon I felt stable enough to get out of bed and walk to the bathroom. I then went to my desk and visited WebMD. I entered my symptoms. Do I have to tell you the diagnosis? Brain tumor. Go to the emergency room.

I didn’t take it seriously, but I did think if I wasn’t feeling normal by the morning, I’d go to my doctor first thing.

I felt a little better as the day wore on, but not much. I was able to eat a bagel, to lay on the couch and listen to music. That night I managed to fall sleep. But WebMD had planted the anxiety. I woke up around three a.m. feeling nauseous and still vertiginous when I laid on my back.

I can’t have a brain tumor, I thought. I can’t. I have to finish this film. I have to finish the short story collection. I have to bike from Anzio to Trieste. (Italy, the route my father marched during WWII as a young man and where destiny, or at least the U.S. Army, brought him to my mother.)

I was quickly aware of what I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t think, I haven’t had children yet or I haven’t built my country house or I’ve never driven a Ferrari. My priorities were clear.

The next thought: If I have a brain tumor, I can include myself in the film. This would give it incredible tension and drama. Would  he finish his film in his lifetime or would he die a horrible, painful death right there in front of the camera? Ca-ching! Academy Award! (posthumously)

I recognized how twisted this was and somehow managed to get a few more hours sleep.

Otoconia, otherwise known as "ear rocks."
Otoconia, otherwise known as "ear rocks."

I woke up feeling better, but not great. I went to my doctor and told him my symptoms. He had me do some hand eye coordination tests. “Don’t worry,” he said, “It’s just BPPV. Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo.”

Oh.

Benign is the key word here. He gave me a few exercises and I felt almost normal by the end of the day.

I’m happy and thankful I don’t have a brain tumor. I am. But once in a while I imagine the documentary I could have made if I did!

* Childermas: By orders of King Herod, the children of Bethlehem were massacred in an attempt to kill the baby Jesus. The Irish call this Cross Day and believe that anything begun on this day will turn out badly. In Belgium, Mexico, and Columbia children play April Fools type pranks on this day. Also known as Holy Innocents’ Day.

"Congratulations from The Literary Review!"

Below is an excerpt from an e-mail I sent to a good friend not too long.

I guess I’m used to the stop and go nature of this film. A couple of months of intense preparation and shooting, then a lull. Then a few weeks looking at and logging footage and transcribing and thinking about editing, then a lull. Then editing for a month, then a lull. Not how I like to work, but I have no choice on this. And I write during the lulls. Have to keep the fires burning.

I am very pleased and proud to announce that a short story I wrote during those lulls, “There Is Joy Before the Angels of God,”  will be published in The Literary Review in spring 2010. In case you’re not familiar with  TLR, here’s a quote from their web site:

The Literary Review: An International Journal of Contemporary Writing has been published quarterly by Fairleigh Dickinson University since 1957. Its many special issues have introduced new fiction, poetry, and essays from many nations, regions, or languages to English readers. Issues focus on such topics as contemporary fiction in Portugese, Iranian exiles, new Irish writing, North African authors, and Philippine fiction and poetry. Many works written in English and first published in our pages have won awards and been reprinted in collections.

Work from 22 winners of the Nobel Prize in Literature has appeared in TLR: Günther Grass, José Saramago, Wislawa Szymborska, Seamus Heaney, Camilo José Cela, Joseph Brodsky, Wole Soyinka, Elias Canetti, Odysseus Elytis, Eugenio Montale, Harry Martinson, Heinrich Böll, Pablo Neruda, Shmuel Agnon, Giorgos Seferis, Salvatore Quasimodo, Boris Pasternak, Pär Lagerkvist, Gabriela Mistral, Johannes V. Jensen, Ivan Bunin. and Rabindranath Tagore. TLR has published many other important American and world writers, often early in their careers.

I like those names.

“There Is Joy Before the Angels of God” will appear in print and, I believe, on their website. “There Is Joy…” is part of a collection of connected stories I’ve been working on for a while now. I realize spring 2010 is a ways away, but I thought I’d plant the seed now. You can be sure I’ll remind you again as the publication date nears.