Time out
Posted: Sat Feb 05, 2005 8:51 am
"I was not writing particularly incisively, but I had started along the right road-a narrow and empty side road. I had a sense of being freer, of growing stronger, and my belief in myself had nothing to do with success or failure but only with writing well. Of course, I wanted to be recognized-I wanted to be a hero-but that desire was not incompatible with the various fanciful roles that I had chosen for myself, growing up: the traveler, the hunter, the explorer, the lion tamer, the forest ranger, the scientist, the surgeon, which were all brilliantly solitary and somewhat heroic. I can honestly say-and it was a great help to me-that I had no driving ambition to be wealthy."--Paul Theroux, "Memory and Desire"
Those of us, judges, intermediary thingies, and participants share in the final thoughts of this treatise-there were no cash prizes and no cash awards for any level of participation.
I am one of the few people participating who actually have met both C2 and Teratogen. I address this to them:
Dear friends,
I come now from the bedside vigil of a loved one. There were many of us there who's lives were intertwined with hers. Michael, you may recall a thread back on the old newsgroup where there was a big to do about something or other and I posted a story about my Uncle and the stink bomb that he set off when he wasn't invited to a party that my Mother and my dear Aunt hosted when they were young. Our friend, Geoffrey, teased me unmercifully about my dear, "Auntie" as he called her-and it was truly a gentle teasing as friends can get away with when they know that their heroic nature cannot be undone.
I remember also a group of friends gathered outside of International House and the genuine warmth that overshadowed the differences in ages, backgrounds, and nationalities.
I remember a dinner on the sunstruck island of my dreams seated across from a brilliant writer and a warm person with his even warmer companion and something that I said irritated him and it took a stern look from that even warmer companion to quell that beginning of pique.
I am not on this earth to be judge, jury, or intermediary-we are all called to be peace-makers.
Teratogan-
I'm not sure where your first tiff with Michael occurred. In thinking about it, I do recall some ill will previously, but I had forgotten about it. I wouldn't have encouraged Michael to critique your poems had I remembered this.
This does not preclude the fact that Michael's comments are for the most part insightful and you should read them carefully and thank him (as our friends Laurie and John K. suggested). You do have great potential and nothing that Michael said suggested that you don't. He was very specific and by and large very accurate. I singled you out for this because the ratio of your experience and age tagged you for the possibility of a long and productive writing life. Post graduate life can be a bitch-but very rewarding if you continue to respect the tensions of the life of the mind.
C2-
I liked your "My Way/Joe Way" poem-perhaps you can turn that into a musical so that my children will have some lasting legacy rather than the tawdry remnants that I leave here and elsewhere.
Thank you for taking the time to closely read these poems-you are probably better equipped to make insightful, sound comments than this reluctant judge-but I would suggest that you refrain from deciding that English is, perhaps, not their (the participants) first language until, at least, after the first round. I suspect that your very warm companion would join me in this request.
(note: first emotithingy used in a very long time!)
Now, it's time for bed and a return to the bedside vigil tomorrow. Please keep a very dear lady who loves dogs and beer (she said this was enough of an obit) in your very kind thoughts.
Joe
Those of us, judges, intermediary thingies, and participants share in the final thoughts of this treatise-there were no cash prizes and no cash awards for any level of participation.
I am one of the few people participating who actually have met both C2 and Teratogen. I address this to them:
Dear friends,
I come now from the bedside vigil of a loved one. There were many of us there who's lives were intertwined with hers. Michael, you may recall a thread back on the old newsgroup where there was a big to do about something or other and I posted a story about my Uncle and the stink bomb that he set off when he wasn't invited to a party that my Mother and my dear Aunt hosted when they were young. Our friend, Geoffrey, teased me unmercifully about my dear, "Auntie" as he called her-and it was truly a gentle teasing as friends can get away with when they know that their heroic nature cannot be undone.
I remember also a group of friends gathered outside of International House and the genuine warmth that overshadowed the differences in ages, backgrounds, and nationalities.
I remember a dinner on the sunstruck island of my dreams seated across from a brilliant writer and a warm person with his even warmer companion and something that I said irritated him and it took a stern look from that even warmer companion to quell that beginning of pique.
I am not on this earth to be judge, jury, or intermediary-we are all called to be peace-makers.
Teratogan-
I'm not sure where your first tiff with Michael occurred. In thinking about it, I do recall some ill will previously, but I had forgotten about it. I wouldn't have encouraged Michael to critique your poems had I remembered this.
This does not preclude the fact that Michael's comments are for the most part insightful and you should read them carefully and thank him (as our friends Laurie and John K. suggested). You do have great potential and nothing that Michael said suggested that you don't. He was very specific and by and large very accurate. I singled you out for this because the ratio of your experience and age tagged you for the possibility of a long and productive writing life. Post graduate life can be a bitch-but very rewarding if you continue to respect the tensions of the life of the mind.
C2-
I liked your "My Way/Joe Way" poem-perhaps you can turn that into a musical so that my children will have some lasting legacy rather than the tawdry remnants that I leave here and elsewhere.
Thank you for taking the time to closely read these poems-you are probably better equipped to make insightful, sound comments than this reluctant judge-but I would suggest that you refrain from deciding that English is, perhaps, not their (the participants) first language until, at least, after the first round. I suspect that your very warm companion would join me in this request.

Now, it's time for bed and a return to the bedside vigil tomorrow. Please keep a very dear lady who loves dogs and beer (she said this was enough of an obit) in your very kind thoughts.
Joe