In which I become obsessed with a poem and John Roderick nearly kills me

1. I’ve read “Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out,” by Richard Siken at least once a day since first reading it about two weeks ago. Truth be told, I usually read it twice a day. In the first few days, I read it even more. It’s brutally good. Almost impossibly good.

2. It’s a little embarrassing how many times I’ve watched this video of John Roderick performing “Nora” live. I’m particularly fixated on it from the guitar solo to the end. You know that feeling when you’re at a live show and the artist is completely plugged in to what they’re doing? Tapped right into the source of whatever moves them to make music in the first place? You can feel it. It radiates off of them, and it goes right into you if you let it. That happens in this video. Watch him sink into the guitar solo, then watch how his energy has changed when he starts to sing again. The guitar solo–the abandon of it… (Fuck precision. Give me passion over precision every time. Break your damn guitar strap. Drop the guitar. As long as it’s sincere.) And then the way he sings the rest of the lyrics… That shouted “Oh, Nora!” after the solo KILLS ME. That’s how I want my art. Messy and sweaty and honest and passionate.

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The Museum of Reclaimed Urban Space

Back in mid-December I started volunteering remotely with the Museum of Reclaimed Urban Space, an amazing new museum in NYC’s Lower East Side dedicated to grassroots activism, with a specific focus on squats and community gardens. They needed someone to help with research/history-based posts for Twitter and Facebook, and I had a good collection of related research material amassed over the past seven years of writing The Revolution of Every Day.

Last week I officially took over the running of the museum’s social media, as well as the website and blog. I got so homesick for New York when the museum opened. I’m excited to be a part of the collective, to have a concrete way to pitch in from a distance. And I’m especially excited to visit the next time I’m back in town. They’re doing good, important work at MoRUS, and they’re entirely volunteer-run. Go check them out if you’re in New York.

 

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How do you like my new place?

Nice, yeah? More pages. We can spread out a little. Thanks to the web magic of Identity Web and Photo, you shouldn’t have to do anything to your RSS feeds to keep up with new posts.

AND the nesting comment replies now actually nest, which will make it easier for us to talk with minimal confusion. So that’s super cool.

I’m pretty damn excited about this site. All shiny and new. Ooooooh….

I finished the line edits on Revolution at 11:51 p.m. on New Year’s Eve and sent them off to my editor, the mighty Meg Storey, right away so I wouldn’t be tempted to keep tinkering and tweaking and obsessing. Really, I could have tweaked the thing forever. A novel isn’t truly finished until your editor tells you to get your damn hands off of it and move on. Meg is reading it now (for like the sixth time. Editors are heroes), and I’ll either get to go back in for a little more tinkering or it will be time to move on.

I’m ready to move on. I’m restless. That novella is still nagging at me. It’s got to be what’s next.

In the two nights since finishing the edits, I’ve been twitchy, wanting to hide in my office and write because that’s what I’ve been doing for so many months. I’m having hard time rejoining the family, getting back into the rhythm of our life together when I’m not on deadline. To be honest, I don’t really want to go back to it. I want to be at my desk. I want to be writing. I’m dragging myself back out, though. Sitting down with those people I love. Trusting I’ll be fully present for them again in another day or two.

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“Because land is life…”

“Because land is life, the struggle for a home through squatting is synonymous with the struggle for life itself.”

Frank Morales (dare I call him a legendary squatter? After all the years of research for and writing of The Revolution of Every Day, he’s certainly a legend for me) speaks at the opening of the Museum of Reclaimed Urban Space.

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Reader survey

You come across the term “spatial deconcentration” in a novel about squatters on the Lower East Side in the mid-nineties. You:

A) Know what it means
B) Don’t know what it means and look it up
C) Don’t know what it means and skip over it
D) Don’t know what it means and put the book down

Why do I ask you? Because defining terms like that within the prose is hella clunky and awkward. But it’s in there, so… Honestly. What would you do as a reader?

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Phuc Tran’s TED talk, now with 100% Less Marimba!

In case you missed it the first time I posted it, or want to watch it again. (And really, you should.) Here is my friend Phuc’s TED talk, now edited so you can watch just his brilliance instead of skipping through the marimba band that went before him.

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Attention Beloved Bookish Folks and Media Types

I’m filling out my author questionnaire for Tin House and it has a spot where I can list people who should receive review copies—that is, people in a position to promote or review the book, or adopt it for an academic course. Do you have/are you a part of a publication, blog, radio show, podcast or other media? And do you want to be on the list for The Revolution of Every Day? If so, please comment here or email me at lalunera@gmail.com.

Thanks!

*slinks awkwardly away*

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Stalking rock stars on twitter is a totally legitimate form of procrastination

I met with my (wonderful, brilliant, delightful, beloved) editor on Tuesday to go over her line edits for The Revolution of Every Day. Tin House is an amazing publisher regardless of location, but I’m feeling especially lucky to work with them as a Portland author. What a luxury to be able to talk through these final edits in person, over coffee!

The edits are not at all extensive. There isn’t all that much left to do. This is good news, and this is also terrifying. You see…the book is almost done. This draft is my last chance to get it right. Sure, I’ll be able to make small (very small!) tweaks to the copyedited manuscript, but nothing substantive. This, now… This is really it. Which is… Holy shit. I mean, I’ve been writing this novel since October 2005 and very soon I will no longer be writing it. I will officially be completely done writing this book, which is older than either of my children.

There’s as much joy as fear in that. There is. But… oy vey. The PRESSURE I’m putting on myself!

And the pressure leads to procrastination. Right now the whole family is asleep and I’m supposed to be working on the line edits, but mostly I’ve been trying to get rock stars to talk to me on Twitter. (Okay. That’s actually singular “rock star.” John Roderick. I’ve spent way too much energy tweeting at him over the years. What can I say? I’ve been a fan of his music for years and years and he gives good tweet. Excellent tweet. And sometimes he responds to me and then I walk around the house with an unseemly permagrin.)

Wait–you don’t know John Roderick? The Long Winters? No? Here. Go listen to some of these, then watch this:

There. Don’t you feel good?

And now I really want to jump down a youtube rabbit hole and make you watch all kinds of videos but that’s just more procrastination. Work. I must work. Here I go.

(Unless John Roderick replies to me again. In which case I need to float around the house for a while and THEN I’ll settle down to work.)

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And now, mein Sprockets, we dance.

Obama won! (Did you hear? I know you count on me to keep you apprised of such things. This blog is nothing if not timely.) And all the things I wanted to happen in the local elections happened! I’m so full of relief my brain doesn’t know what to make of it. What is this calm, positive feeling? Why are my shoulders so far away from my ears? What is this strange ability to fall asleep at night? It’s just bizarre.

Now we get to just sit back and relax and enjoy this wonderful, fair, orderly home of ours where everyone’s needs are met and their rights are respected and… Yeah. More work ahead. So much work ahead.

But how about for now, just for a moment, we put that down long enough to dance? (PS: It’s an Amanda Palmer video, so NSFW)

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Quietly losing it with election jitters

Please, may Obama win. (He will. He HAS to.)
Please, may a certain faction in power in the Republican party not steal the election (or at least not succeed, if they try).

GAH.

Hold me.

Or tell me a joke. Anyone know any good jokes? Please?

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