I won’t lie, I wasn’t in love with the excerpt of Fresh Kills that I read during the final months of the ABNA contest. But I have to admit, this guy sounds like a writer.

(Also, I’m well-aware it was only an excerpt, and one that hadn’t been through the rigors of the Penguin editors at that. I should check out the finished product and see how it compares…)

Highlights from the interview:

What made you decide to submit Fresh Kills for the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award?

I had nothing to lose. I had a new novel I’m really proud of and the contest was a way to get it in front of people. Fish won’t bite if your line ain’t in the river, you know? Do good work, get it out in the world, and amazing things can happen. I’m living proof.

What has this contest taught you so far about the life of an author?

That the life an author is a lot like the life of a baseball player. Endless work and practice in preparation for long periods of anticipation and brief moments of triumphant joy. That’s cool, though. I love baseball.

Recently things keep coming up every time I want to blog, jolting me out of whatever mood I’m in and making me rethink whatever I’m about to say. For example, yesterday I was going to blog something happy (I can’t even remember what it was anymore) and then I received a phone call that totally turned the day on its head. Without discussing the contents of the call — because part of the call involved my getting yelled at for divulging too much to people — let me just say that I am a good secret-keeper, and I try to be a good friend and listener, but I have my limits, and when I have the kinds of concerns that I currently have, I AM NOT KEEPING YOUR SECRET. But that does not give you the right to talk sh*t about my mom.

Ever.

Then today I was going to post about how much fun I had last night going out with girlfriends from work and seeing the Sex and the City movie — more on that awesomeness later — when I received a notice that my (short) short story “Chasing Trains” had been rejected by the editors at the Boston Review. Here’s the feedback:

Good writing, but ending seems a little much.

We look forward to reading more.

Doh.

It’s not bad, but it’s also not a request for publication. And I was a little surprised by the comment about the ending, seeing as that was more or less the point of the story. Or maybe more accurately, it was the seed that germinated in my mind and inspired me to write the piece. So I guess I’m a little attached to it…

Sigh.

But it could have been worse — like, “Holy crap, woman, you really think you’re going to be a writer? HAHAHAHAHA” — so I’m actually feeling pretty encouraged. And even if that last line is a canned response, I’ll take it! Because goodness knows I’m not done submitting to them.

–

(Now for the originally scheduled awesomeness.)

In keeping with my inability to like things that other people like, I never really got into Sex and the City. Too much sex, too much pink, too much hype. And way too over-the-top clothes.

So after I blindly accepted my coworkers’ invitation to join their Girls’ Night Out, and then a month later asked what we’d actually be doing, and they replied, “Going to see the Sex and the City movie!” I have to admit, I hesitated. Did I really want to pay the outrageous theater prices to see SATC when I could see Kung Fu Panda instead? Was the possibility of getting to know my coworkers better worth suffering through two hours of crazy fashion and penis jokes? (YES.) Couldn’t I be doing something more fun and productive at home instead?

Okay, first of all, note to self: SHUT UP, SNOB.

Second, SATC rocked.

I’ve only seen like 1.5 episodes of the show, but I had no problem getting into the characters’ lives or personalities. The opening montage established their background info beautifully, and the actresses were so convincing, even when they were borderline caricature, that I felt like I was watching parts of their real lives. I think the best aspect was that the movie ebbed and flowed naturally, the way life does, and it spoke much more to the friendship between the four women than to their relationships with (stupid) men.

And Jennifer Hudson had an adorable cameo role!

In order, these were my favorite moments:

(Partial spoilers from here on out — including the link later — so beware!)

• #3:
  Carrie’s impromptu fashion show in her closet, during which the other three girls voted “Take” or “Toss” on each item. Mostly hideous clothes, but such a cute little scene of their fun friendship.
• #2:
  Carrie and Big in bed teasing each other about library books and glasses and other inane, real life-y things.
• #1:
  Charlotte screaming, “No. NO!” at Big right after Carrie beats him with her bouquet. The emotion on Kristin Davis’ face literally brought me to tears. In that moment, she wasn’t Kristin Davis pretending to be Charlotte. She WAS Charlotte, defending her best friend from the man who broke her heart.

Seriously, a great movie. Probably not for guys (unless they want to get laid), but for girls who feel passionately about their friends? It’s a must-see.

(If you’re more conservative, you should be prepared to shield your eyes from the nudity. Oh the nudity.)

Based on how much I love this movie, I’m considering watching all six seasons of the show. But, to ensure that Andy won’t kill me for it, I think I’ll treat it as a reward for meeting my writing goals once I go part-time. Like, an episode a day as long as I write at least X hours or at least X hundred words. That’s fair, right?

I thought so.

One last thing about SATC, and then I’ll shut up: I think it’s hilarious that the movie references a book that everyone now wants to buy even though it doesn’t exist. Too bad they didn’t say it was written by me!

From A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf:

For masterpieces are not single and solitary births; they are the outcome of many years of thinking in common, of thinking by the body of the people, so that the experience of the mass is behind one single voice.

(Thanks to Mengfei for giving me this book. Woolf is hard to read, but given the number of Post-It flags sticking out from the pages, I’d say this is worth it.)

Thanks to everyone for your support yesterday. Sometimes I feel like a self-centered moron for getting so overwhelmed by my problems, which I know are tiny and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Like a cobweb in the middle of the dark, dank, rancid, rat-infested attic of the world’s issues.

I’m lucky, and I know it.

So I let myself have one bad day, and now I’m determined not to wallow. Last night I watched Wednesday’s episode of So You Think You Can Dance and then ran around the backyard with Riley. After accidentally sloshing through some mud and then coming down wrong on my knee, I decided to just sit on the ground and watch while Riley sniffed and chewed on the grass.

I didn’t come up with any magical solutions by looking at the sky or the trees or the old couple walking down the street. But I did find peace.

Dear Universe,

Is there some kind of rule, like, we’re not allowed to have all our sh*t together at one time? Because sometimes it seems like you are monitoring everyone and going, “Oh, you fixed that part of your life? Here, then let me mess this part up for you. You need more to do. More challenges! They build character.”

Frankly, Universe, I’m a little tired of building character right now. Couldn’t we do it, like, a few times a year, instead of continuously? Or could you at least cut me some slack for a couple weeks? Because I’d really like to get up after sleeping for eight hours and feel rested. And I’d like to look forward to my day, instead of wishing it were the evening already so I could just go home and curl up with my dog and a good book. And it might be nice not to worry about whether or not everyone can see the tears I’m desperately trying to hold back. Yeah, that’d be lovely.

So, Universe, if you could work on that, I’d really appreciate it. Let me know what you’d like in return, and I’ll do my best.

Thanks so much,
Kristan

First my dog beat me up, then he wouldn’t go poo.

Today I was a very sad dog-momma indeed.

–

For the past couple of weeks I have been fairly vague about an “upcoming change” in my life, an “edge of the cliff,” so to speak. Well, as an angsty teen I thrived on that sort pf mystery and ambiguity, but now, as a mature sophisticated adult (HAHAHA) I’m all about the honesty and directness.

(Mostly.)

So here’s the dealio:

I’m transitioning out of my current job (account management) into a part-time administrative role (at the same company) in order to spend more time on my writing.

The end.

(Sort of.)

To back-track: I’ve spent the past month freaking out about this, namely because my original plan was to just quit. But then I got this email saying that our current admin would start working Mon-Wed only, and we were hiring a temp until we found someone to take Thurs-Fri. For some reason I didn’t think my bosses would ever go for me being the Thurs-Fri admin, so I didn’t bring it up with anyone for several days. But while I was meeting with our Controller about my 1-year review, I felt so comfortable with her (because she is THE biggest sweetheart on this planet) that it all just kind of came out: wanting more time to write, possibly quitting, and wondering if (but not believing that) I might be able to be the second admin.

To my surprise, she didn’t think it was a bad idea. She and I spent a few hours ironing out the possibilities and setting up a plan to present to my bosses. And as if being a sweetheart weren’t enough, she is also clearly a MAGICIAN, because they went for it!

I could have fallen down dead right then and there from the shock.

Not only did they go for it, they were extremely supportive. Their willingness to let me stay a part of the team while following my own dream really showed me how much our company has grown in the past year. We may not be perfect, but we have good intentions, and I’m starting to feel like we’re a family.

So I’m sort of going from the Competent & Dutiful Daughter to the Harmlessly Aloof Aunt, but I’m hoping it will work out well for the family company, and especially for me and my writing.

It means a lot to me to have this opportunity. I’m thankful to everyone who’s helping me make this possible — my parents, Andy, my (work) family, my friends.

Now it’s up to me to make this successful.

You know, I was walking out of the office yesterday afternoon thinking, “Oh, today’s Friday! That means I get to go home early and take a nap need to post a photo.”

And yet, here is it, 24 hours later, and no photo. (Or nap.)

[sigh]

To make up for it, here are several photos from The Best Place On Earth, aka Madrid. This is the view from a hostel I stayed in the first time I visited Madrid (summer ‘05). Behold el Gran Vía:

I remember waking up to the sounds of the city, climbing down out of my bunk, and slipping out onto the teeny tiny balcony with my camera. I stood there smiling down at the commotion and barely believing that I had come here all by myself. (Aisha stayed in Barcelona, then went to Vigo to see Claudio, then met back up with me for the return trip to Houston.) I gave myself two days to be with Madrid, and when I left, I knew it wasn’t enough.

The following year I arranged a summer study abroad session through IES, which included a homestay. My host Ana happened to live near my university and near the royal palace, and also happened to be a wonderful woman who liked to cook for me. It couldn’t have been more perfect if I’d written it.

Here is a horse-drawn chariot on the promenade by the palace, where I often did homework or other reading, writing, and thinking:

This is an ant:

No, Madrid doesn’t have an ant problem (at least not that I know of) but I thought it was a cool photo. I took it at a park in the western extremities of Madrid (I think Casa del Campo, but I can’t remember for sure) when Alex and Teo were both visiting me. We rode the cable car to the edge of the city and had a great view looking out over all of Madrid. (And yet, I posted the picture of the ant…)

Finally, this is a picture of el Parque del Buen Retiro, my favorite park in Madrid, in Spain, and maybe anywhere. Retiro is very much in the center of the city and its inhabitants usually reflect that. This was a typical night in the summer, full of activity, full of people, full of life.

Funny story: the first time I ever went to Retiro, some guy tried to hit on me. He told me I looked good, like I was dressed to go dancing in a club. At the time I was wearing a t-shirt and navy blue corduroy shorts.

This article nearly had me bawling like a baby in front of everyone at Half Day Café.

I want this book very, very badly: Dear American Airlines.

(I wonder how much is left on my gift cards…)

Wow, this kid is crazy. In a good way.