The Loyalty of Water: Why Write?

Guest post by Melissa R. Sipin

Why do you write? What are your goals as a writer?

These questions haunt me. Whether it’s late at night after hours of writing or in a seminar with Juliana Spahr, who forces us to read articles on the gatekeepers of literature, the MFA Machine, AWP and its capitalistic complications (like its rejection of the proposed panel, “Principled Protest in Academia: the Story of the University of Houston Sit-in,” and its acceptance of another that encouraged a third [and probably expensive] degree), or Kathi Week’s book, The Problem of Work: Feminism, Marxism, Antiwork Politics, and Postwork Imaginaries. Juliana asks us to create graphs, maps, and trees of prizewinners in recent Poets & Writers (How many men have won awards? Women? Let’s re-look at the VIDA Count), asks us to interrogate the data of who gets into this or that journal, and asks us to examine the trends of who gets published in this or that prize-winning collection (like Cliff Garstang’s Journal Ranking based upon the Pushcart anthology). She asks us: what do you do with this data?

Faced with all of this: why do you write?

It’s a difficult question for me to answer, if only because the reason why I write is an emotive, intellectual choice, almost like falling in love.

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If You're New Around Here

Thanks for checking it out!

There's a lot going on in this space these days. The Loyalty of Water, a series on women and writing, written by women who are writers, is in full swing. Posts by Mary Volmer, Allison Landa, Kristina Weaver, and Lita Kurth are up, and new posts by guest contributors arrive Mondays and Thursdays. In between, you can find curated snippets that run along some of the same themes.

Stick around long enough and you'll run into my own writing here as well. Sometimes it even reaches beyond writing on writing and gets into literature, life, community, and random things I stumble upon, including but not limited to the current transformations taking place in the Bay Area, my pet high horses, the problem with H.P. Lovecraft, odd places discovered while on cross country skis in the middle of Swedish winter, and that Swedish winter itself. I am also fond of the Westminster Dog Show, when I remember to watch it.

I also, on occasion, post my fiction writing--or previews of it, at the very least. My first novel is currently on submission, and inquiries are always welcome.

Interested in contributing? Curious to find out what happens when an American moves to Shanghai and encouters a ghost? Wondering just whom I'm going to kill off? There's really only one way to find out...

Connect with me here, on twitter, or via email, at emilybreunig <at> me <dot> com. And keep checking back--we're only getting started.

The Loyalty of Water: A Yin-Yang Tattoo

Guest post by Lita A. Kurth

A Yin-Yang Tattoo

In Parkland, a subset of Tacoma near the Pacific Lutheran University campus, a placid blonde woman poked a tattoo onto my left hand, right where I can see it every day: the yin-yang symbol in red and black. A bunch of us got tattoos when we finished our MFAs, but up to the very hour that I had it done, I didn’t feel the time was right. I had thought I’d wait until I achieved integration or published my novel, but that afternoon, while a friend and I ordered matching felt jackets a few doors down, I experienced a sudden fierce urge to get a tattoo. Now I can look at it multiple times a day, a reminder of perfect balance.

The Divided Self

At a university where I once worked, professors laid their extra books on a hall table for anyone to take. I remember picking up a book with the title, The Divided Self, thinking, oh yes, this is about me. It was more about Victorian literature, so I set it down again, but I am a person often at war with myself. I am a person who says, “I’m going to lose a few pounds before AWP starting today” and then goes to Five Guys for a hamburger and fries. Then I’m surprised and angry. I declare to myself that, “I’m going to work on my novel today” and the day passes. I’m frustrated, disappointed, bewildered. It’s one thing to achieve balance between two conscious selves; it’s quite another to bring in the mysterious unconscious which seems to operate out of sight. I only see its footprint.

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Loyalty: Zadie Smith

From The Rumpus interview with Zadie Smith:

I like the work, it’s beautiful work, I’m glad that I do it. I feel with my students that they feel there’s a magic trick, you know, like you go into the room and something magical happens, and that really isn’t my experience. It’s a very worthwhile and satisfying labor, but that is what it is.

AWP Packing List

• One travel mug, and at least three decent types of tea bags
• One good sneaky move for approaching the coffee condiments table and making off with some milk
• The business cards that make it look like I'm trying too hard
• The alternate business cards that make it look like I'm trying too hard not to try too hard
• One tote bag for the inevitable book purchases
• One car, with mostly vacant trunk, for the inevitably overflowing tote bag
• A small bag for the free chocolate
• A big bag of almonds, to offset the free chocolate
• The names and numbers of people in attendance whom I know, for social validation
• Three phone numbers of friends not in attendence, for occasional reality checks
• Velcro for soul, firmly attached on both ends
• One list of must-see events, panels, and people 
• Three brilliantly scintillating pitches for the major projects, all coming in at under 30 seconds
• Three slightly longer yet no less brilliant synopses for said major projects, accessible in less than the time it takes to steep tea
• A list of editors who like good tea
• Extra tea
• Two printed copies of my first 50 pages. One is just asking for trouble via spilled tea; three is expecting too much.
• One good natured spouse who likes books in the way a healthy person does, for balance and a birthday dinner
• One overpriced hotel room with a bathtub, for emergencies
• Confidence, confidence, confidence. 
• One stop at Powell's on the drive home, just in case the trunk isn't full enough.

See you there?