NaNoWriMo Did Me In?

I attempted National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) for the first time this year.  Last year, I just did random writing every day I could manage, but this year I actually wrote the draft of a novel—50,000 words plus.  And I started from scratch (I had previously written about 400 words on the idea, but I didn’t use them) – I had an idea, that’s all.
 

Three weeks in, I had to stop to work on some financial reports I do as treasurer of our writing group—lost four or five days of writing; but I made that up.

Still, the month rather “did me in.”  I have not been here.  I missed you, blog!  And I missed the sense of sharing something with my friends.  But I’m back, with new ideas—just in time for the holidays!

Meanwhile, I have been reading:  Finished Felice Picano’s book Ambidextrous.  Now I’m rereading The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath; and a biography of Plath to learn more about her.

Both books quite interesting—and I’ll be saying more about them!  Also watched the film A Good Year, with Russell Crowe, Marion Cotillard, and Albert Finney.

Also saw Kill Your Darlings, in the theater.  This experience was reminiscent of a year ago when I saw (finally!) the film of On The Road.  But more of these later.

Listening to music, as always; mostly, the four-CD collection “Bebop Spoken Here.”  But then, for some reason, I decided it was time to catch up on Rock—so grabbed “Bon Jovi’s Greatest Hits” at the Sunnyvale library.  Not to abandon Jazz, though—I picked up “Tommy Dorsey’s Greatest Hits” at the same time.  Now I’m back on Bach’s Christmas Oratorio.  It’s been an incredibly busy December—nine meetings/events in eighteen days! 

But now, some peace and quiet, hopefully:  I’m taking time off work.  Today is my last work day until Monday, January 6, 2014!

Picano and Me

So I’ve been reading a lot in two areas:  Let’s call them “counter-culture” and “gay.”  By counter-culture I mean of the ‘50s, ‘60s, and maybe ‘70s:  The Beat writers and their offshoots:  Kerouac, Ginsberg, Burroughs…Kesey, Hunter Thompson.  And the gay writers I’m talking about are the people associated with the Violet Quill of the ‘70s and ‘80s, but have been writing ever since; people like Edmund White, Andrew Holleran, and Felice Picano.

 

I have some mixed feelings about all of them.  The Beats I respect, but they certainly were a bunch of highly individualistic people.  I’m more conflicted about the Violet Quill; is it some kind of latent residual homophobia on my part?

I’m now halfway through Picano’s “memoir in the form of a novel, Ambidextrous.  I wasn’t expecting to like it.  My first attempt to read it ended when I got bored with his descriptions of being able to write with both hands as a child.  It just didn’t seem interesting.  And I seen reviews talking about all the childhood sex he describes in the book.

But I’ve gotten interested in his story, for reasons I hadn’t anticipated.  I’d read the sequel, Men Who Loved Me, first; so I knew about the years of his young adulthood.  He seemed much more freewheeling than I.  In fact we seemed quite different.  But now—

Well, I discover he had a run-in with a teacher in the fifth grade; quite a bit of trouble with that teacher, actually.

I had trouble in the fifth grade.  Whereas Picano’s teacher bullied him, my own teacher merely teased me.  My perception—well, it might as well have been bullying.  Now it might be considered mild psychological bullying.

But I believe my teacher simply liked me and didn’t know how to express it.  I was fairly shy at the time, in a new school and a new environment because of my own circumstances of growing up with the U.S. military.  Anyway, I hadn’t been expecting that Picano and I would have an unpleasant fifth-grade experience in common.

And a bit further on into the story:  Descriptions of model airplanes.  Picano’s friend makes airplanes out of balsa wood.  I myself bought plastic models and assembled them.  Picano describes the different airplanes that were modeled, plus the decals, the paints, etc.; and hanging them from the ceiling.  

As a child, I assembled some airplane models; though I didn’t concentrate on planes.  I made several large ship models; a large model of the Eiffel Tower; cars; etc.  

In short, as far as Picano’s description of himself at the age of eleven or twelve, I could relate to that; in spite of the fact that he was talking about New York City and its suburbs, while I would be talking about the tidewater area of Virginia, about seven years later than he is describing.

Picano’s descriptions have moved me along a bit towards continuing with my own novel based on my early life.  And for that I thank him!

I’ve also been taking another look at Kerouac’s Doctor Sax, another novel dealing with a boy who is eleven or twelve—but that is a totally different type of work!

Review: "Basement Games" (Felice Picano)

I was surprised when I finally read the first section of Felice Picano’s “memoir in the form of a novel,” Ambidextrous.  The first section is titled “Basement Games,” and I had started reading several months ago but quit.  In the first few pages we learn that Picano grew up ambidextrous in the early 1950s.  He talks about learning to print by copying his siblings and then moving on, in elementary school, to cursive writing.  He would switch hands from line to line.  I didn’t find this very interesting so I quite reading and went off to finish Andrew Holleran’s novel Nights in Aruba.

I came back this month, but with some trepidation.  I knew from reviews that Picano became sexual at an early age.  He started having sex with girls when he himself was only eleven.  A few years later and he was also sexually involved with boys.  Some reviewers felt uncomfortable with the sexuality, and I wasn’t sure how I was going to feel.  

And indeed, in “Basement Games” we see Picano drawn, at eleven, into a sexual initiation orchestrated by “the girls next door.”  For me, who grew up sexually isolated until sometime in college, it seemed pretty unbelievable.

But at the same time, Picano is continually humiliated by his fifth-grade teacher for being ambidextrous.  I’m not sure such behavior would be tolerated in a teacher today.  This was particularly significant for me because I felt humiliated myself in the fifth-grade, to the point where I came into conflict with the school system.  So I developed quite a bit of sympathy for the young Picano.  The climax of this first section certainly gives you something to think about!

The book is over 300 pages, divided into only three chapters.  This also discouraged me from reading it at first.  However, I enjoyed the first section and now intend to read the entire book.  It looks interesting and I find Picano’s perspective insightful.  I don’t know whether the youthful sexuality will bother me; but I know now that there is a lot more to this book than just the sex.