As a great conclusion to the project that I'm doing, I saw Mark Z. Danielewski speak last night.
When I began this project about a year ago (almost a year ago exactly) I was thinking about him. I wrote my college essay and my seminar essay on House of Leaves, and whenever I thought about him all I could feel was jealousy. Here is a little piece of my college essay, just to give you an idea:
Reading is an integral part of writing, and writing is my chosen craft. For me, writing is an involuntary reflex. I am compelled to express the voices that speak inside my head. However, despite a natural aptitude with words and a mammoth imagination, I know that I am only seventeen years old. I have only been learning for so long. In the years before the Young Writer’s Workshop, I had done a considerable amount of reading and writing, but after that summer, these activities seemed entirely different. I had admired the work of other authors, but I had never wanted to be anyone as much as I wanted to be Danielewski. I would have given my front teeth to have written his masterpiece.
Alas, my front teeth are still intact, and so is my humility. I was simply not ready for my magnum opus. I realized that I could not write something so euphoric if I did not have the background to do so. The author of House of Leaves was a reader as well as a writer. One of my favorite chapters offers an unconventional perspective on the myth of Theseus; I barely even had the background to understand it. It was obvious to me that if I wanted to improve, I was going to have to increase the number of hours I spent in the library.
Those words are still true (and god knows how I got into college with such an adoring rave review of a book--I mean really). Yesterday, when I saw him, I was so excited I could barely breathe. I came to the conclusion pretty quickly that he must be crazy. He's brilliant, he's talented, he's well spoken, he's a great storyteller, and he's good looking for a man of his age. There has got to be something wrong with him. When he spoke about his routine, all I wanted to do was go home and rewrite his novel from the very beginning. For just a second, Marilyn and Rodger and Carl and Ollie seemed so insignificant in the face of the greater project that I have embarked on. I have a lot of it recorded, which is good, because if I were to quote it I would absolutely butcher what he said. He had a lot to say about the way his novels are meant to be and I think it applies to everyone--the stories I'm writing want to be a certain way, and if I try to do something else with them, they will resist. I have to think about that more before I can have something to say. I'm going to have to transcribe what he said because the recordings were with my phone and therefore really crappy.
So I got my day and, as I expected, it's a crappy day. I expected that since I found out so late my presentation would, logically speaking, also be late, but that was just too much to ask for. May 16 is a horrible day in all regards--it's right at the same time as the Stat exam, so I won't have any audience--and my final English essay is due that day as well, plus all the rest of my work, but complaining isn't going to get me anywhere. I just have to sit down and do it.
Where to begin. First I have to figure out what the hell I'm going to do about the actual short stories that I am going to show. As it is right now, I have zero finished short stories. I don't have anything at this point in time that I am happy enough with to show anyone. I have three or four just okay stories, things I have not finished, but I would be embarrassed. When it comes to work, the way I think about it is that I don't have a lot of stacks, but the stacks that I do have are tall. Literally, when I look at it on my desk. I have so many drafts of everything that the number of final drafts is relatively small. When it comes to page count, it's all about precision, to me. I sound like I'm making excuses. I have so many drafts, so many attempts, so many things that worked and didn't work, that I'm not even a little bit worried about not having enough stuff to present to the panel. I'm just worried about not having an appropriate final product. Which I guess is something to think about in the week that I have left to get this done.
Here's a little scheduling that would probably be more useful for me than for you. If my presentation is May 16, then I have to have the portfolios done by Wednesday, May 9 (that's five business days before). May 9 is precisely two weeks from today. I know someone said it takes ten days to put together a portfolio, but I think I could do it in a week if only because I am not going to have trouble with the rationales (I mean, how used to talking about myself am I at this point?). I have exactly a week to finish all of the short stories that I will be putting in the final portfolio.
And that's it, I guess. I don't know what else to say about that. It's going to be a crazy three weeks (although I don't think it should be... why is it that there are people who have their presentations in the third and fourth weeks of May who found out three weeks ago?!?!?!?!?) but I'm sure that I'll be able to do it. At this point, I don't have a choice.
Tonight I'm going to be workshopped. I'm going to try and tape it, although I don't know yet if I'm exactly allowed. And then after that I just work until I can't work anymore. And that's that, I suppose. I'm going to have to find my first semester work and remind myself of what all nighters feel like.
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