Jessica E's Blog

I am eating a bowl of corn right now. Just a bowl of corn. And it is delicious. I just got back from hearing Dorothy Allison read on campus...what a beautiful, beautiful soul. If I ever grow to be half as talented or funny or confident or comfortable with myself...well, I don't even know. I feel so inspired. I know that sounds lame, but really. She asked who in the room were writers and a few people raised their hands (I didn't). And then she warned us that everyone else was going to be critical of us, of our work, and would try to bring us down--we have to be proud and supportive in our own community or we wouldn't survive! We couldn't afford to be meek or timid. Except she said it was more powerfully and elegantly because when she asked, for a second time--who here is a writer--people's hands shot up. They stood up, even. I didn't. I regret it now.

Dorothy Allison teaches writing and I think she would be a GREAT teacher...she just has this way about her--she would give it to you straight, no bullshit. And I don't think she has a condescending bone in her body, which is rare. I think I need someone like her, a powerful female influence. That's one of the reasons I am applying to MFA programs...not that I don't adore my writing teachers here but...okay. Listen. The other day I was talking to my writing professor and, somehow, we got on the subject of what makes a good first grade teacher. He said something like "At that age, the most important thing is that the teacher make your kid feel good about herself, and maybe teach her some letters." And I thought, "Hey! That sounds like what you did for me!" I didn't say that to him, obviously, but it's a legitimate comparison. If I didn't have someone to encourage me and to make me believe in myself--I don't know if I would be writing like I am right now. I feel like, after that first semester, he picked me up, put me on my feet and said "You will write"--hahaha, whether that was his intention or not. Well, now...I think I need a firm hand. I want to play with the big dogs! Woof!

In other writing-related news, I am...on the verge of getting all of my applications together. My personal deadline is December 1...and I have basically everything done, I just have to tie a few loose ends...put paper to envelop, cursor to "submit" button, and money into the wallets of many many people who are not me. It's been a long, turbulent journey. Wanna know where I'm applying? No? Well too bad! In no particular order:

University of Minnesota
University of Michigan
University of Virginia
University of Maryland
University of Wisconsin
Southern Illinois University
Vanderbilt University
Ole Miss
University of Arkansas(sy!)
University of Iowa
University of Wyoming
University of North Carolina--Greensboro

That's a lot of schools! I hope one takes me! That's all I will say.

Oh yeah, and I'm graduating in a month.

FRIENDS: Our new football coach Lane Kiffin has been named dropped by none other than Mr. Lil Wayne, whose mixtape "No Ceilings" has leaked before its October 31st release date. In the mixtape, Mr. Wayne remarks, "smoke weed, talk shit like Lane Kiffin." Please note: the mention of illegal activities and the flagrant use of language in the above quoted material does not necessarily reflect the attitudes of this blogger. However, one fact can be--no, MUST be--gleaned from this incident: Lane Kiffin is totally cool. If we, as a nation, hadn't known that before, we certainly know it now. Kudos to you, Lane Kiffin.

Mr. Kiffin's tweet on the matter: "looking forward to another great practice today and a huge game saturday...also a huge shout-out to Lil Wayne for boosting our street cred!"

Street cred, indeed.

In other news, I would like to apologize for my recent short, boring blogs. I have been very busy lately, what with getting ready to graduate in December and applying for grad school. I take the GRE on Monday--I expect a bloody massacre--but at least that will be out of the way. I really don't have time to be writing this right now--but I have recently received statistics confirming that people really do read this thing! A readership! Who knew! I would like to give a big shout out to all the readers in the following countries:

Everyone in the UK!
Republika ng Pilipinas! (the Philippines!)
中國! (China!)
Australia!
O Canada!
Éire! (Ireland!)
भारत गणराज्य! (India!)
Koninkrijk der Nederlanden! (the Netherlands!)
Bundesrepublik Deutschland! (Germany!)
Република България! (Bulgaria!)

*sorry if I made mistakes with the names!

I know you exist...you cannot hide from me any longer.

QUICK THING:

Today is the National Day of Writing!!! UT is celebrating by hosting various activities around campus. I'm going to be in the UC (Rm. 223-4) helping out--come say hi! You can also go to Hodges library or the Pedestrian Mall for writing-related fun! Also: Post your own writing to UTwrites.net--it's our writing archive! Everything and anything counts: poems, stories, tweets, texts, shopping lists--it's all writing, isn't it? Yes!

I should have posted this earlier. Happy National Day of Writing!

Hello friends. It's fall break time here at the University of Tennessee. I am lounging, listening to the rain tumble through the eaves and my upstairs neighbor play the piano. Currently, she is plinking. Plink plink plink--but I can tell she really knows how to play. There is a certain familiarity, a certain confidence with which she strikes the notes of all those little piano games we all learned as children. "Chopsticks." That one where you roll your knuckles across the black keys. Not that I have anything against "Chopsticks," but I wouldn't mind a little Vivaldi. I wouldn't mind a little Clint Mansell. Hahaha. I should tell you that I don't know anything about piano. Specifically, I don't know if Vivaldi wrote/was well known for compositions on piano. Perhaps all composers compose with a piano. If Mr. Holland's Opus has taught me anything they do.

Later, I will do homework, work on grad school stuff, and study for that godforsaken GRE. That is my break, and let me tell you: I don't mind. I also might re-watch the first four episodes of Bored to Death, since our household is getting six months of free HBO (including On Demand) or whatever the deal is...and I can. I like this show more each time I watch it. And not just because Jason Schwartzman and Zach Galifianakis are in it. Ted Danson is also in it (!)--whose commendable hair (I've recenetly been informed) is actually a commendable wig. But really, this show is...charming. It's also humorous. Those words are really dull and lame, but I can't think of better ones right now. Bored to Death is...slightly different from everything else that's on T.V. right now, in my opinion (which may not be a very good one, 'cause I don't watch much T.V.). And if I may take liberty with the essays found in Burning Down the House: Essays on Fiction, I'd like to quote from Charles Baxter to illustrate a point:



Scenes in Bored to Death are recognizable and unrecognizable simultaneously, and not because a large portion of the show is set among the New York literati--a world that is forgein to most of us but not hard to imagined. It's because there are scenes where Jason Schwartzman's character is talking on the phone with a Nerf dart affixed to his finger. There are scenes where Zach Galifianakis is arguing with his girlfriend at the breakfast table, suddenly standing up to reveal that he's not wearing pants, only sad, baggy, white briefs. And you smile, not because he's been in his underwear this whole time, but because the bagginess makes the scene kinda weird...and real.


Okay--I wrote the above on Thursday. It's now 1:23 a.m. on Sunday, and I think maybe I sound like a big a-hole, what with quoting books and relating them to HBO programming. Seriously though, those Baxter essays are changing my life, I think. And so is this GRE book. The Princeton Review has a sense of humor AND they are teaching me seventh grade math again.

I think I have heartburn--what does it feel like? Shouldn't I know what it feels like by now? Yes.

Here is a picture of a spider that, until recently, resided beneath some wooden stairs in our backyard. It looks poisonous, doesn't it? Sure does. Well, let me tell you something, dear reader: It has mysteriously disappeared.

A bit of history: The spider was first spotted along the side of the house, between the driveway and some unidentifiable and unruly pink blooms. Then, it was suddenly beneath said wooden stairs. Once, I saw it wrapping a fly in its web stuff. Now, I don't know where it is. Let's recap. First: side of house. Then: beneath some stairs. Now: ?

That is all.

PS--click on the picture to enlarge it so that you may appreciate nature's beautiful terrors more fully.

I'm applying to creative writing MFA programs right now. That is what I'm doing. One of my top choices is the University of Virginia. The acceptance rate for UVA's program is 1.5 percent. To compare, Harvard Medical School's acceptance rate is 3.21 percent. Ehem.

Hey gang. This blog entry will mostly concern the fine art of exploitation, of myself (first and foremost, always!) and of things tangentially related to myself. Ready, here we go!

As you should know by now, I interned at the Oxford American magazine this summer. The issue on which I worked (Southern Literature and Writing on Writing) currently awaits you at your local bookseller. Buy it. Please note: This is more of a demand than a suggestion. If you are in Knoxville, you can purchase it online or visit Barnes & Noble out West. Yes, I understand that chain bookstores may be the death of us all, but there (unfortunately) isn't another newsstand location in our area. I am urging the UT Bookstore to start carrying it (obviously it would sell, not to mention that the OA is taught in at least one literature course here), but so far I've received only radio silence. The better thing to do, really (and this goes for almost any magazine you enjoy, especially in this day and age), would simply be to subscribe. SUBSCRIBE.

This is the first time the OA has devoted an entire issue to Southern Literature, and all the neat-o features (INCLUDNG THE SOUTHERN LIT. POLL I SLAVED OVER) are explained here. Remember: There are only two surefire ways to be cool in this world: by smoking cigarettes and by reading the OA. Chances are, you won't be able to pull off the first one, on the grounds that only a select few can (also it may kill you). See: James Dean (pictured!), Marlon Brado (also pictured!), Mia Wallace, and Tyler Durden. So unless you are a 1950s movie star, or a fictional character, I'd stick with the latter.

SPEAKING OF SOUTHERN LITERATURE: The University of Tennessee has its very own literary arts magazine. It's called the Phoenix and is completely student-run. Here is a bit of honesty: it usually (at least as long as I've been here) blows in the actual "literary" department (the art, however, seems to do our talented, fine artists quite a bit of justice). Since I've never been a part of the editorial staff, I couldn't tell you exactly why this is, but based on rumors (always to be trusted!) and appearances, this is what I think: No one on staff gives a damn. The primary, and most nocuous, consequence is that there is very little promotion, which results in substandard and infrequent submissions—not to mention poor circulation numbers. We do have talented writers and poets here, but this magazine does them no favors. UNTIL NOW (I hope). My friend Willoughby Parker is now in charge of the entire shebang. And he cares…and has been drafting qualified staffers to help pull this publication up by its bootstraps, so to speak. So here is my plea to you, current UT students: 1) if you can turn a clever phrase, please submit and 2) for the rest of you, the Phoenix is always in need of volunteers to read submissions and to promote the magazine. It's fun and, if you'd rather be cynical about this, it will look good on a resume. In conclusion, I am very excited about the potential of the Phoenix's fall issue. I'm doing my part, because I care about UT's literary community—so be prepared for my frequent mentioning of this subject I urge all of you to care about something (it doesn't have to be literature! Haha! I'm just a snarky-pants!), too.

SPEAKING OF SOUTHERN LITERATURE AGAIN: Dorothy Allison is coming to read at UT on November 12!!!!!!!!! This is a big deal.