In case this got by you, the Wall Street Journal for the past week or so has put out a couple great pieces: one, a bunch of writers let slip how they spend their day writing; and two, a killer interview with John Hillcoat, director of the festive and heartwarming holiday movie The Road and said loving tale’s author, Cormac McCarthy.  It’s mainly McCarthy’s show.

Remember how I had that post about William Gay?  Seriously, read him.  Here’s an long interview with Gay at Oxford American.  Better than the McCarthy interview.

Last is an interview with Tobias Wolff, a really warm piece about the short story, state of publishing, MFA programs, that sort of thing.

I get most of these from reading the litblogs to the right, by the way.  You can cut out the middleman and read them, instead.

Most of you probably know that I’m pretty old-fashioned.  Something in me shrivels up a little every time I send a text.  But this is the age we live in, and it’s how I keep in touch with people.  If I could knock on my momma’s door every day I would.  It’s good to know, though, that in spite of the advances of technology and the regression of most methods of conduct, some folks are trying to set an example.  I give you The Art of Manliness and 1001 Rules for my Unborn Son.  Both of these sites hark back to an older time when being a man didn’t mean slick hair and muscles, it meant being educated, gentlemanly, and moral.  A quick look through the Art of Manliness will yield articles like “30 Days to a Better Man Day 14: Write a Letter to Your Father”.  This while Asylum’s comparable articles are “How To Surreptitiously Ogle Women” or some such nonsense.

Next up is a topic near and dear to my heart, but one I play close to the chest when it comes to my writing.  i09, a site I’ve never heard of, has an article up about the changing trends in apocalyptic literature.  It seems that, lately, people don’t care or write about how the apocalypse comes about, they just care that it happens.  The Road explains precious little about its apocalypse, as the current shining example.  And apparently this is happening a lot.  People just want the aftermath–they want to see people struggle.  This topic has had me thinking for a while.  The number of groups on Facebook that involve zombies in some manner is 1,400.  The most popular group has over 80,000 members, and that group is “The Hardest Part About a Zombie Apocalypse Will be Pretending I’m Not Excited”.  Ask any of your friends, seriously, any, if they’ve given thought to the zombie apocalypse–in particular, not even just “the end of the world”.  I’d wager if you ask ten you’ll come back with 9 yes answers.  It’s this weird drive we’ve got, particularly these younger generations, for a real, pan-level struggle.  We don’t want WWIII because that involves morals.  We don’t want a pandemic because that can’t be fought clearly.  Zombies provide a tangible enemy without any moral hangups.  We want to fight.

Chew on that for a while.

First off, the second issue of The Collagist has been released–I don’t know how long ago, it’s the September issue, I just happened to look.  Along with some excellent fiction and poetry, there’s a review of Josh Weil’s The New Valley, a book I’ve recommended to others but never read.  More on that in a minute.  In addition to their new issue, The Collagist has a flash fiction contest starting up.  There’re fees attached, but they pay, as well.

Second.  In the spirit of this being something of a place for writers, I want to use my wide interwebs to haul forth catches like this: Edan Lepucki’s short essay at The Millions, about time spent at the Ucross writer’s retreat.  Applications for Ucross’ fall session are due next March.

Third, Sonya Chung reviews Everyman’s Rules for Scientific Living, and she compares it to Marilynne Robinson’s Housekeeping, which ought to be enough reason for all of us to add it to our carts, yes?

Last, brought to my attention by The Rumpus, is an essay on pop-culture/Americana/the self, written by Dana Vachon. It’s an interesting idea, that our culture is not the I-nurturing beast it seems to be, but rather one that destroys the I and turns it into an amorphous and ravenous You.  We’re so empty, so hungry to begin with, that we eat whatever’s before us.  That alone wouldn’t be so bad if we weren’t told by the hand that feeds that what we are eating is manna.

An essay by Tim O’Brien on the “well-imagined story”.

An interview with Marilynne Robinson.

An essay on death and life, and the possibility of a moment of consciousness containing the universe, by John Crowley.

Today was the first day of classes here at UCR. The only class I had was Writer’s Life, which is exactly what it sounds like. I imagine instruction on how to properly smoke a cigarette and remove coffee stains from a shirt are soon to come. In all seriousness, a lot of it seems redundant for me, and I wonder about a course like this being included in a graduate program. We’re covering queries, how to submit work to journals, etc. I feel like that should be something people are already acquainted with. Be a great undergrad course, for sure. But here we are, a class full of folks of varying ages but several of us of the world, and we’re learning what to expect out of writing? I’m skeptical. I’m skeptical of the whole program, to be honest. I’m grateful for the opportunity and I will soak up everything that comes my way, but I’m not expecting too much. I’m not sold on the idea of teaching writing, even now. (And I know I’m late on that argument, see this article in the New Yorker, if you’re a rabid follower of litblogs.)  But the degree and the time spent are both going to be useful.  So.

The good news is that the prof, one of two, seems pretty great.  The missing prof is Reza Aslan, who you’ve probably seen on The Daily Show or Colbert Report.  A little awesome, yeah?  Getting taught by someone who’s met those guys, pinnacles of journalism that they are.  At any rate.  I wonder about how much I should discuss on here.  I doubt I’ll be slandering anyone but regardless my life is potentially in the hands of a UC Regent who stumbles upon this blog in a Google search.  We’re having a bit of a budget problem in California, if you weren’t aware.  Had a walkout today.

I’ve got a homework assignment to hash out and then I can get back to writing the novel, the title of which I think I’ll go ahead and spill in acronym format: AAM.  Just for the sake of quickness.  I wonder a little bit about how quickly I’ve gone through the first quarter or so of it.  26k in a month and a half.  Part of that time absorbed in a…well, let’s not talk about it.  Let’s just say I’ve been distracted a time or two in that month and a half.  So, a pretty good pace.  If it keeps up like that–it won’t– then I’ll be done by winter, probably.  Considering it normally takes me around a year to write a novel, that’s pretty impressive.  Could even start writing another before I leave school.

To finish: haven’t heard about that potential good news yet.  Makes me wonder if maybe the offer was rescinded, sadface.  And lastly, just stumbled on this blog, by one Lauren Leto.  Snide remarks on books, a fan of Murakami and Hemingway?  Can’t beat that.  Welcome to the sidebar.