Not Afraid to be Servicey

I taught another all-day class this weekend -- a good one, only six students, so we were able to spend a lot of time on everyone's individual exercises. I was still exhausted at the end, because I spent six hours on my feet, talking, but I felt good, like after a run. One guy -- young, twenty-five, with amazing material -- said he sometimes felt like his story had already been written, so why bother; I paced and railed for five minutes about how necessary his voice was. I think he was convinced. I know I was.

I'm not going to make fun of myself today. I'm not going to take myself down for being pedantic, a know-it-all and a ham, a salesperson of snake oil. The class is good; people feel better for having taken it. The end.

Okay, not the end. The beginning, rather, of a week-long feature here on the blog: Janice the Pedantic Know-It-All Answers Your Writing Questions. Are you struggling with writing? Having a creative issue -- block, maybe? Send me your comments and questions, and I will do my best to answer them. I will even pace and rail for you! You won't see it, because it will be in my apartment, but still.

I'll also be guest blogging at the Best American Poetry blog, starting tomorrow (promiscuous blogger!), and will have some special guest bloggers on this site as well. So stay tuned! Or whatever it is that one does at one's computer. Stay seated in front of your computer, until your eyes chafe and your fingers bleed! Yeah, that's it.

Have You Facebooked Her

Now I can't stop thinking of other stupid puns for my title. Have You Grounded Her. Have You Fondued Her. But I think I still like Flounder the best. That was the origin of the meme.

In that spirit, a poem summarizing the book's plot, comprised of anagrams of the title:

Heavy Duo Hero Fun
Head Voyeur Fun Ho
Favour Needy Uh Oh
Hah Undo Fever You
Fraud Hue Envoy Ho
Heavy Feud Oho Run
Aye Overdo Fun Huh
Heaven Duh For You

Sex positive

My dear friend Jill just sent me this clip, part of the new online video network she launched called CherryTv. I've been eagerly awaiting the launch of this project since it was announced -- a site featuring real women talking honestly about sex for the benefit of other women, and the benefit of humanity in general. Note: This clip is not safe for work, so make sure to don plastic goggles before watching:

I'd also like to welcome a new member to the blogroll: one miss College Call Girl. I met miss Girl a few months ago, and have been enamored of her writing ever since. Is this my tacit endorsement of the sex industry, against which I have railed so oft? Not at all. It's my explicit endorsement of miss Girl.

And both last and least, it's more sexy women talking about sex things!

No it's not. It's me reading a passage from Chapter Three of Have You Drowned Her at Bluestockings last week. Lying memoirist!

I am simultaneously everywhere!

Defying the laws of physics, a la Bugs Bunny; a la that guy in the Matrix who Keanu Reeves had to fight 100 of -- you thought you'd punched the last of me in the face, but no, there's more of me yet!

First there's last night's recap of the reading at Rapture Cafe (which I'll present to you sans picture, because one picture of me reading does not look at all different from every other picture of me reading): Ed Hamilton read a true story about Harry Smith's zombie from his book, Legends of the Chelsea Hotel; I performed the short play A Flaming Asteroid Hits My Ex-Boss in the Nuts, then read a short selection from the new book. DJ Max Klaxxon played the beautiful and groovy tunes, and Amy Gewirtz was yenta-ing all over the room, telling everyone that she'd "just got in a new batch of men in their thirties and forties." Also got to catch a drink with Jami and Lauren before the show; to see Rachel, Virginia, Carolyn, Holly, Nichelle, and Thaddeus; and to meet Maud Newton, of Maud Newton fame. I know, that's a lot of names to drop. Thank god there are, like, twenty of me to pick them back up again.

Then there's the recap of this afternoon's visit to HS 47, The American Sign Language & English Secondary School, where I spent an hour and a half reading, talking, and writing with the students, who shared some of their own short memoir pieces, many of them knockouts. I'm a proud New York City public high school graduate, and few things make me as happy as visiting schools, meeting committed and passionate teachers, and talking with the students about writing. Again, no pictures, but you can probably imagine the face-eating smile.

Meanwhile, here's a lovely interview with me, and a chance to win a free copy of Have You Frowned Her :), on Amy Guth's Big Mouth Indeed Strikes Again; and a short essay I wrote, entitled "Trying on My Dude Suit," about writing from the male perspective, on Kore Press's Persephone Speaks (while you're there, check out last month's entry by Tayari Jones).

Tomorrow: Other people -- what's their deal?

'Cause it's a filler, filler post

You have to sing it to the tune of Michael Jackson's "Thriller." No, you have to. Because we are a household that fervently believes in song puns. I know, you're shocked. What I mean to say is, I'm all wrote out from working today; all talked out and read out, and I have another reading tomorrow night (Rapture Cafe, 200 Avenue A at 12th St., 8pm, free!), and I'm old and I need my sleep, and it's not that I don't want to write blog posts, it's that my wrists hurt and my throat is sore and I'm fried, deep fried, like a corn dog, like the corniest of dogs, and part of me can't wait until June, when all of the hoopla is over and I go back to shutting up and observing and taking notes on everything. Until then, I hope you'll bear with me, with all the pictures of readings and links to interviews and complaining about tireds -- it's all great, it really is, but there's a lot of it, and I think I'm going to bed now. Yeah. Totally going to bed.

Blurry, hammy, and uh, uh, et cetera

Great show last night at Bluestockings; such a kickass venue, and it was wonderful to be able to share the stage with some of the inspiring young women who have made life after Samantha so rewarding. Here's me, of course, since you might have forgotten what I look like, or what kind of dorkface I make while reading:

The gorgeous crowd at Bluestockings:

My dear, dear friend of 14 years now (!!!), Dana Piccoli, rocking the herse (that's the womynist spelling of "house"):

Poet Kadidia Adula, who I met at the Brooklyn College Women's Center in September:

And writer/columnist Melissa Saunders, who I met while trolling for teenagers on MySpace:

Many thanks to the folks at Bluestockings, to the readers and performers, to Lauren Cerand for facilitating the event, and to all the fine folks in the audience, like Lana, Jennifer Dzuria, Molly Crabapple, Nava Renek, Jill Abrahams of CherryTV.com (launching Wednesday!), and Anne Radford and her girls.

And here's me on the Leonard Lopate show yesterday -- WARNING! Huge spoiler alert! He basically gives away the entire plot of the book, not that I mind -- it's always a relief when I don't have to talk around the twist ending, and can just blab about it with impunity. I did an okay job of avoiding the dreaded laugh-talk, but I, uh, uh, I have some, have some other speech tics that drive me, uh, uh, drive me crazy. Still, it was a wonderful experience and a great honor to be interviewed by LL, and the best part was the voicemail I got from my folks as soon as I walked out of the studio -- "Wonderful. We're so proud of you."

I couldn't ask for a better review.

More of me than even I can handle

Tomorrow at noon, I'm going to be on the Leonard Lopate show on WNYC, New York Public Radio, 93.9 FM. (I'm going to try not to do that thing I caught myself doing on the Publishing Spot video, laughing in the middle of my own sentences. We'll see how su-ha-ha-ha-cessful that is.) Then at 7pm, I'll be at the awesome Bluestockings for the Girlbomb and the Girls show -- free! Join us! Fun-ness! And in the meantime, because nobody should have to wait that long, here's an interview with me on the Urban Muse. Can't...stop...talking...about...self...!

A blogger blogs, primarily about her book

So, as noted in the previous crankypants post, I don't really feel like writing about myself these days, wah wah wah. But I always feel like writing about my book! Or posting about it, anyway.

Here's an article I wrote for BookPage, about How I Wrote Her.

An interview with me on Conversations with Famous Writers.

And two great reviews from the Feminist Review and BunnyShop.

I promise I'll post something interesting and writer-y soon, or maybe just a long list of opinions about this season's crop of American Idols, including Amanda "I'd Like to Buy A Consonant" Overmeyer, David "Statutor-able" Archuleta, and Brooke "Certainly Is" White.*

(*Bill's joke, but I'm trying to take credit for it anyway. Plagiarizing memoirist!)

A blogger blogs, always

So the book came out last month, and then we moved, and I don't recognize anything anymore, especially my own voice, probably because I haven't been writing enough. I've been eating way too much lunch and not writing nearly enough -- talking too much, emailing too much, trying to be all things to all people too much. Putting on a perky voice for the blog. And I don't want to be a fake memoirist, but I don't feel like being honest, either; I don't feel like being vulnerable, or exposed, or...fucking sharing anything. After two memoirs, I feel greedy about my privacy. Lately I've been fantasizing about faking my own hard drive crash -- Oh, wow, Janice fell off the face of the internet and into a volcano! -- or putting up a universal "away" message saying that I went to a colony. ON MARS. And yet here I am, talking about it, typing about it, telling you all about how I feeeeeeeeeeel. Because I'm incorrigible, and I'm a sucker for a blank screen -- the screen that won't let me hide.

Reading: Way Less Hard than Writing

Okay, so I know I come home from every reading raving about how great it was, and talking about all the awesome people who came out to say hi, and it's redundant, and kind of not even that interesting unless you were there, and you were me.

But look at this crowd at last night's reading-talk-signing at LIM College, the College for the Business of Fashion!

Don't they look gorgeous? Especially with all those yellow books? I agonized over what to wear to Fashion College, and then I somehow wound up in this t-shirt-over-thermal thing, like my short term memory is so degraded that I think it's twelve years ago.

It's the ridiculously big smile that makes it, though. And I was working this smile all night.

It's like, why don't I try being happy for a change? I look like I'm going to eat this girl's face:

And there's more face-eating fun to come! To wit:

Friday, March 21, 7pm, free
Bluestockings Books, 172 Allen Street between Stanton and Rivington, 212-777-6028

Girlbomb and the Girls! Wherein I read, and present two younger writers, Melissa Saunders and Kadida Adula. Music by my dear old (young) friend Dana Piccoli. Books for sale and signing! Feminists for your viewing and flirting-with pleasure! All good things.

Tuesday, March 25, 8pm, free
Rapture Cafe, 200 Avenue A between 12th and 13th Sts., 212-228-1177

Readi...PARTY! Featuring readings by me and Ed Hamilton, author of Legends of the Chelsea Hotel, and dancing music by DJ Maxx Klaxon. Booze, books, and boogie! Yes, I did just say "boogie."

Saturday, March 29, 11am-6pm, $150
Gotham Writer's Workshop

I'm teaching another one-day Memoir Writing seminar -- highly recommended for anyone who wants to get a jump start on that book they know they should be writing. Click here to register.

Wednesday, April 9, 7pm, free
Barnes & Noble Lincoln Center, 66th Street and Broadway

I'm giving a one-hour seminar on Memoir Writing, presented by Gotham Writers' Workshop. If you can't afford the $150, seven-hour version, try the free hour-long one.

Saturday, April 12, 2pm, free w/conference admission
Center for Independent Publishing, 20 West. 44th St. between 5th and 6th Aves.

I'll be on the Memoir Writing panel for the Fourth Annual New York Round Table Writers' Conference.

Sunday, April 13, 7pm, free
Stain Bar, 766 Grand Street, Brooklyn

I'm reading at the Sunday Salon at Stain Bar (an arts salon, not a hair/nails salon).

Sunday, May 4, 3pm, suggested donation $3
Sunny's, 253 Conover between Beard and Reed Streets, Red Hook, Brooklyn, 718-625-8211

I'm reading at Sundays at Sunny's, presented by Gabriel Cohen.

Each reading is different -- each venue and series offers its own amazing vibe and star-studded crowd, and I promise you won't hear the same piece from me twice. But you will see the same goofy smile on my face. And probably the t-shirt-over-thermal look, too. I think it's going to be the hot new thing for '97.