Writer Wednesday with Lori A. May: author, poet, and literary citizen

Writer and speaker Lori A. MayDuring my final residency in the Wilkes University Creative Writing program in 2010, one of the most inspirational craft classes was taught by a new face on the faculty, writer Lori A. May.

The class was scintillating, motivational--everything the doctor ordered. As a result of her craft class, Lori became my inspiration for reaching out to other writers because she underscored the value of (and the need for) authors to be good "literary citizens." In other words, writers should find ways to devote a portion of their time to lifting up the work and writing of friends and colleagues.

Literary citizenship makes the world go round. If you find that to be a bit hokey or hyperbolic, consider the fact that it makes the alienation writers feel while banging out a book less of a lonely slog. Yes, literary citizenship helps others while lifting the spirits and the influence of the literary citizen, too.

Her call to literary citizenship is one reason I do this Writer Wednesday feature on this blog.

During that craft class, Lori also outlined a model for goal-setting and monitoring toward forward progress and ultimately success as a writer. It's a winning plan she herself has obviously user-tested and proven.

She writes across a number of disciplines, edits, teaches, and travels as a frequent guest speaker.

You can find her work in print and online with The Writer, Writer's Digest, Passages North, Brevity, and Phoebe. She's a regular reviewer for publications including Los Angeles Review, Rattle, New Orleans Review, and The Colorado Review.

Lori's 2011 handbook for would-be low-residency studentsShe writes books, too, including The Low-Residency MFA Handbook (published by Continuum in 2011), which offers prospective graduate students an in-depth preview of low-residency creative writing programs.

All the interviews she conducted with program directors, faculty, alumni, and current students at low-residency programs led to an unexpected outcome--she ended up enrolling in the Wilkes MA-MFA program. 

My most profound regret is that Lori and I weren't in the Wilkes program at the same time. As it turns out, I have been the recipient of her thought leadership in the realm of literary citizenship despite our not being classmates.

She walks the talk, interviewing me for the Wilkes University newsletter last fall and apparently singling out this website and my Operatoonity.com blog as effective author websites and blogs during the most recent Wilkes residency.

(Thank you, Lori! I'm verklempt!)

Anyhoo, it's such a pleasure to welcome Lori A. May to "Scrivengale" for Writer Wednesday!

Since I’m more of a one-trick pony, I admire (so much) that you are accomplished across a range of disciplines—poetry, non-fiction, fiction, journalism. Do you have a favorite genre(s)? If so, why?
It’s definitely a balancing act. I really do enjoy all of these avenues, though, which is why I keep up the insanity of it. While I don’t necessarily have favorites, I do work in phases. Usually when I wrap up one large nonfiction project, I’m ready for fiction or poetry. It’s nice to always have something on the go, though!

Stains is a collection of early poems by Lori A. MayThough you are a seasoned freelancer, you very much strike me as a new-school author—comfortable and fluent in emerging technologies, accepting of the grind that the profession now demands of you. In some ways, you have even broken the mold—to my mind. How are you able to accomplish and balance everything that you do?
I certainly don’t consider myself a trendsetter. But I do watch and learn from others, whether that’s how to develop social media skills or record a live poetry reading. I enjoy seeing how others work across multiple platforms with marketing, of course, and with publishing in unique ways. I don’t always adopt what I see for my own writing life, but when something clicks I find a way to make it work. Since I write and speak full-time, I do have to treat my writing life with a certain business sensibility; so I find ways to be creative with the ‘work’ part, so I maintain that joy of being a writer and don’t get bogged down with weighty to-do lists. It’s in keeping writing at the forefront, having fun, and only taking on what is authentic for me that helps keep things in balance.
 
What made you decide to enroll in Wilkes University’s Low Residency MFA-MA?
I had met a number of faculty at conferences—like AWP—and also myself been a guest faculty member at Wilkes, so I really had an advantage in getting to know the people behind the program in a personal way. Conversations about what I planned on working on came up organically and then I realized Wilkes was an obvious fit, as I had already established a rapport and knew it would be a great place to try something new, something different for me. There are many great programs out there and I always say it is unique to every single person what program is best for him or her. For me, with what I had in mind for an experimental thesis, Wilkes was it. I knew it was my home.
 
Lori may be the only current student in the Wilkes Creative Writing program who is also a presenter at residencies.What’s the worst part of being a writer?
This one’s easy! Some days I am envious of the 9-5 employee. As writers, we rarely turn off the clock. My mind is always working, even if I am not at my desk. My husband jokes that if I had a 36-hour day, I would still work most of it and fill it with writing activity. It can be tough to pull myself away from the desk, but I do recognize it’s also important to take breaks and vacations—which I love to do!
 
You seem so organized and utterly dutiful. What is your guilty pleasure? Surely you have one.
Oh, I have several. I do watch TV (thank goodness for DVRs) and one of my guilty pleasures is 90210. Like many my age, I was hooked back in the 90s on the original, so I couldn’t miss the latest version. I also enjoy movie nights—on the couch, in PJs, with a bowl of popcorn. One of my biggest pleasures, though, is what I already touched on—travel. My husband and I cover about 30,000 miles in an average year and while some of that is writing-related for conferences or speaking engagements, there’s nothing like a good old fashioned road trip to rejuvenate and relax. We take state and county roads and avoid the Interstate whenever possible so we truly get to see the landscape and see what small-town America is up to. When I come home, I feel refreshed and inspired to work, but for those few weeks on the road… ahhh, there’s nothing like that kind of freedom.

* * *

You can learn more about Lori A. May at her website. You can also friend her on Facebook and follow her on Twitter @loriamay, where she encourages followers to send a warm note to an author whose book you enjoyed (which is vintage Lori). 

A Special Sample Sunday - A Scene from DON JUAN IN HANKEY, PA on Mozart Day

My backstage opera novel published in 2011 by BooktropeToday, January 27, marks a truly special day for me--without a doubt. It is the anniversary of the birth of the composer who wrote Don Giovanni-- none other than the incomparable W. A. Mozart. (And if you ask me, Mozart holds the copyright on incomparable.)

Without Mozart, there would be no Don Giovanni, perhaps the greatest opera ever written.

Without Don Giovanni, there would be no DON JUAN IN HANKEY, PA, my backstage opera novel inspired by it.

Why choose, Don Giovanni as the backdrop for a contemporary novel? Perhaps reviewer and author Lenore Hart, author of BECKY and THE RAVEN'S BRIDE, said it best in this blurb of the novel:

Like a fabulous production, DON JUAN IN HANKEY, PA seethes with wild jealousies, convoluted  mysteries, wry comic turns, resident ghosts, mysterious assailants, bold intrigues, longing, love, lust, and – of course – plenty of opera.  Gale Martin's novel is 'meraviglioso!'"

Still not convinced as to why Don Giovanni is the perfect work to draw a novel from? Just look at the cover of the novel!

One scene in the opera was seared into my brain the first time I saw Don Giovanni onstage. It is full of sensuality and expectation. Don G. the gentleman, the cabellero. Don G. the seducer. Don G. the unrepentant rake.

So for Sample Sunday, there's a scene from DON JUAN IN HANKEY, PA that showcases the duet "La ci darem la mano," and the title character Don Giovanni at his enchantingly seductive best:

A cutting from Chapter 19 of DON JUAN IN HANKEY, PA -- The Burletta:

Oriane trotted onstage like a frisk filly. Knobby’s cue. It had been at least a month since Knobby had sung anything—even happy birthday. Though he’d sounded fairly good in the shower that morning, singing to seasoned operagoers was another matter entirely. He crossed himself, pulled the mask over his face, raked his plumed black hat and strutted onstage.

“Là ci darem la mano,” Knobby sang in a worthy baritone, lights dimming as he strode onstage. The audience, moved by his singing, broke into spontaneous applause. They liked him. Interesting. Deanna had told him that the mood of the masque makes the audience looser, more spontaneous than on regular opera nights. And she’d been correct. He doubted they would ever be this impressionable during a scheduled performance. Though his voice sounded strong to his own ear, he knew he had about two minutes of singing in him before the voice began fading. Then he would be hoarse for days.

Oriane was milling around the martini glass center stage, waving a handkerchief. Knobby, dressed exactly like Vasquez, came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and clasped her hands in his. He leaned his body into hers, and laid his face on her cheek as he sang, “Là mi dirai di sì.” As he sang the next line, he gently, playfully placed his hand over her eyes, and then looked right and left in character, for Zerlina’s fiancé. The audience tittered—they knew the story—they knew Giovanni was always looking over his shoulder for the suitors of the women he seduced. The audience was well-schooled.

But how shrewd were they? How long would it take for the audience to realize the opera company had pulled the old switcharoo on them, swapping out the dashing Vasquez for a not-so-sensational Knobby in a mask and a musketeer hat—especially guests with expensive opera glasses. Or would they, these season ticket holders, readily embrace this theatrical convention, willingly suspending their natural tendency to disbelieve, choosing to believe only what they saw—a Giovanni seducing a Zerlina?

“Partiam, ben mio, da qui,” he sang, striving through every inch of his body to impart the meaning of the line, “let’s run away together—you and me,” hoping the audience would accord him a swagger he couldn’t attribute to himself. No valiant gaucho, he. Just a wholesome Cincinnati boy. But the women in the audience reacted to his last line. He could feel their affection for him floating onto the stage, enveloping him like a soft breeze off the Ohio on a sweltering summer day. All except for one woman.

 * * *

Now, for your listening pleasure, here is a splendidly sung and acted version of the same scene from Don Giovanni, featuring baritone Thomas Allen and soprano Joan Rodgers in the Royal Opera House's 1988 production of Don Giovanni.

Ready for more valentine romance? 'Hey, Gale?' says start planning now.

Hey, Gale?

Valentine's Day is coming up. I really want my husband to take me somewhere romantic for a change and not eat TV dinners while watching the Philadelphia 76ers on Comcast Sportsnet.

How can I get my man to treat me like his valentine and not like a fishwife?

Ready for Romance

Dear Ready for Romance,

So, you're not sure your man notices you, and you feel like a fishwife. Here's a tip: If you're looking like a fishwife, he's noticing that, girlfriend.

You need Gale's tried and true Sense-and-Sensibility approach to ramping up romance:

1. Sense: Pay attention to your appearance. Did you do your hair today? Are you wearing sweats around the house? Looking like an amorphous blob isn't going to give any man's love machine a tune-up. Wear *clean* clothes that flatter rather than hide your figure.

Next, get the Salvation Army bras and panties that are on life support out of your lingerie drawer and make room for some lacy-little-nothings. Then try cleaning out the refrigerator. There's nothing a man likes more than a refrigerator that sparkles like a Superbowl ring. Lastly, learn the "feather duster ballet" to use on the knickknacks. You can use a Swiffer duster in a pinch, but there's nothing like bona fide feathers to get your man to notice your dusting regimen.

2. Sensibility. Do you keep your legs shaved, or would they give a lumberjack brush burns? Are you soft and smooth? If your skin is so scaly that he needs a 'tackle box' to get up close and personal, you need some serious cocoa butter, body lotion, bath oil--or all three--STAT.

Do you pass the sniff test? When did you last bathe? Is your breath minty-fresh? If you want him to get up-close-and-personal, trying being huggable, touchable, sniffable, and smoochable for a change.

Take time over the next few weeks to show him in subtle (and not-so-subtle ways) that he did once fall for you. If you put this Sense-and-Sensibility plan in action without delay, you'll be on your way to a romantic date and a world-class Valentine's Day with the hubster!

Here's to happier, hygienic holidays!

Ten Twitter turnoffs

I've had two Twitter accounts for a few years now--one for me as Author Gale Martin (@Gale_Martin) and one for my opera blog Operatoonity.com (@Operatoonity).

While I have invested a great deal of time and life energy in Tweeting--"content is king" and all that, I truly haven't devoted sufficient time to growing my followers. I have fewer than 2,000 for each account.

I suppose I'd adopted a laissez faire, if-you-build-it-they-will-come approach, figuring that if I provided the right kind of content frequently enough, my follower counts would eventually grow.

Of course, they grew somewhat. But not with the gusto that some other authors have grown their follower numbers.

Sidebar:  Author and editor C.S. Lakin wrote a compelling blog post about how dramatically building her Twitter following ramped up her book sales--big time.

Three years later, I'm committed to seeking more followers in earnest--especially on my @Gale_Martin Twitter account. In scanning and surveying potential people to follow, I've developed a few criteria that allow me to size up within seconds of looking at your Twitter profile whether I'll follow you. Or not.

So here they are. My "Ten Twitter Turnoffs":

1. No profile photo - Really? Twitter is all about conveying who you are, in short order, using That's how you want the world to see you? As an empty egg. Blah.every Twitter tool available. Who wants to follow an empty egg? If you can't be bothered to tell your story in your photo, I'll be honest, I can't be bothered to follow you.
2. No bio - Twitter gives 160 glorious characters to tell the world who you are, and you use none of them? I don't really want to follow anyone who has so little awareness of themselves or their potential audience.
3. Too much skin in your profile photo - I'm not on Twitter to get my rocks off. So, if I see cleavage down to the belly button, bare backs (or fronts), or too much skin in general, you've lost me. I don't want eye candy that leaves nothing to the imagination. But take heart. I'm sure there are plenty of other people for whom lots of skin is the cat's pajamas. Just not me.
4. Shout-outs for religion in your bio - Christian. Buddhist. Muslim. Jesus is #1. Even mentioning that you are staunchly anti-religion or atheist in your bio turns me off. Don't rub your religion, or lack of it, in my face and expect me to follow you on Twitter. I don't care about your religion, believe me, and you come off as boorish. Didn't your mother ever tell you that religion and politics are topics not to be broached with strangers?
5. You give orders in your bio - I'm not even following you and your barking out orders in your bio? "No DM's!" "No this!" "No that." I left junior high school decades ago and have no desire to go back digitally. Audience, people.
6. Too much sex talk or lingo in your bio - If you mention that you're "horny," I'm out. Grow up, already, and go find a chat room. No, I am not monastic. Please don't rub it in my face.
7. All sex in your profile description - Well, than you're just a spammy ho, and I'm not following you, and I'm likely to report you.
8. You follow very few people and you're not famous - If I see your Followers to Following ratio is way out of wack, and you're not Ryan Gosling, then you've just told me all I need to know about the kind of person you are.
9. You mention strange living arrangements in your bio - I have no interest in following people who use their bio to tell me they are in a committed relationship with three women ... and a sea turtle. Just plain yechh.
10. Your profile picture is animated - Those animated gif photos give me a headache. You have every right to use them. But I can't follow you if it hurts my eyes to look at your Tweets.

So, there you have it. My down-and-dirty Twitter hit list. 

Thankfully, there's millions of people out there who do none of those things. To you Twitterfolk who have a great sense of audience and have tried to use the medium rationally, cleverly, and intelligently, I'm headed your way. In fact, feel free to leave your Twitter username in the comments.

Tweetingly yours,

Poor Lady Edith--empathy for an ugly duckling

The other day, a coworker and I were discussing the latest episode of Downton Abbey, the PBS Lady Edith Crawley, the ugly duckling of the Crawley sistersMasterpiece Theater series that's an Edwardian soap opera: unrequited love, longing, lies, treachery. Oh, it has every subplot imaginable, believe me. A real kitchen-sink drama--just the way I like 'em.

This week the middle sister Edith Crawley (you can read more about Edith here) suffered such a tragic turn. Heartbreaking, really. 

(Spoiler alert: Don't read on if you don't know what happened to Edith this week.)

Her older sister Mary is coolly attractive if you like the type. Her younger sister Sybil is drop-dead gorgeous. Edith, by comparison, is painted as the homely sister and the likely spinster, a point which her parents, Lord and Lady Grantham have discussed on the show.

The indignity Edith suffered this week touched me deeply because it resurrected a heart hurt I've tried to repress for decades. Had she had Mary's or Sybil's looks, she would not have been jilted at the altar.

Lady Edith is unlucky in love because she is the ugly duckling of the bunch.

And I feel for her because I used to be aMe at age sixn ugly duckling, too.

I was a pretty cute kid until I hit puberty. In my early teen years, my nose grew two sizes too large for my face while my skin broke out in acne. At the same time, my closest friends blossomed into teenage beauties--with looks that fit their faces, cute figures, and clear complexions.

All throughout my school years, I had an uncanny talent for hanging with very pretty girls because I liked boys, and guess what attracted young boys? I knew I could never compete with my friends for the guys' attention, and after a few lame attempts, I no longer tried.

I watched as their popularity soared and mine sank, along with my self-esteem.

In eighth grade, we traded little school photos, writing nice things on the backs of each, handing them to people we liked. I asked the cutest boy in our class for his photo. I was so thrilled to receive one until I turned it over and saw how what he'd written on the back:

To the ugliest son of a gun I know."

This is me at age 16, dressed as an Amish girl for a local play.By the time I got to high school, I began to grow into my face--my big nose in particular--and my figure. I began to do community theater, which gave me confidence. No surprise that becoming more confident can improve your overall appearance.

By my senior year, I was becoming more normal looking, certainly not plug-ugly any longer.

me at age 18However, by this time, the damage to my psyche had been done. It would take me a very long time to ever feel like an attractive woman.

And let's be honest. Don't we all long to be regarded as beautiful? Rightly or not, because of social conditioning, don't we all identify with Cinderella as we are growing up and not her ugly stepsisters?

After I had my first child, around age 30, my husband and I went to his friend's wedding. That night, as we were driving home, he told me I was the prettiest woman in the room. I had just had a baby three months ago, and some days, I swear I didn't get around to brushing my teeth.

Most women would laugh off a comment like that or not give much credence to it. But because of my own self-image, forged at an impressionable age, I thought was the remarkable thing anyone had ever said to me. You see, I'd never, ever in my life been "the prettiest girl" in any room.

Me at age 25, trying a darker hair colorYou can counter that looks don't matter, and these days, you'll get little argument from me. We all know that character matters more in this day and age. Character, accomplishment, work ethic, and personality. I do know men are rarely scrutinized for their looks like women are. However, if they were constantly judged by them like we are, they might be more self-conscious creatures. Who knows? Me at age 52

At my age, squarely in the fifth decade of life, looks in general (mine or anyone else's) don't matter to me nearly as much as they used to. Thanks to my husband's unconditional love and acceptance, I've accepted my limitations. I should work harder on shedding the extra pounds I've put on my frame. But I don't obsess about my weight either. I've decided to go easier on myself since I was very hard on myself when I was younger.

Lady Edith, like many real women will suffer the rest of her fictional life in ways that most men never will because of her plain looks and because of the period of time in which the drama's set. Though her family has money, she's not likely to get the men, the fortune, or the respect she deserves as a human being. Certainly not from her grandmama, who can be quite the scoundrel.

Poor Lady Edith may never know any real happiness or marital bliss--because she's the ugly one.

I'm not faulting the creator of the Downton Abbey series for pinning misery on Edith simply because she's no beauty. Edith's particular hard-luck storyline ratchets up the tension, and all this tension helps create the exciting series I love. In fact, I admire writer Julian Fellows for tackling this storyline and not being PC about it whatsoever.

Because I know terrible things happen to young women who are ugly ducklings. Because they happened to me.