Congratulations to Manuel Muñoz!

I bumped into Prof. Manuel Muñoz today after work (I'd stopped by campus to deposit my check and chat with a couple of friends.) The four of us got to talking about his second collection of stories, The Faith Healer of Olive Avenue. We talked about the heartbreakingness of his story "When You Come Into Your Kingdom."

Then I mentioned that "Tell Him About Brother John" was one of my favorite stories in the collection, and he told us that that story has been selected for an O. Henry Prize and will be published in the 2009 collection! This is wonderful news---I couldn't have been happier to hear it. It's kind of funny, because we read the 2008 collection in the advanced fiction workshop that I took with him this past Fall semester.

Recently, he won the 2008 Whiting Writers' Award. He got his MFA at Cornell and is now teaching fiction at the University of Arizona.

Here is a mediabistro.com interview with him about teaching and the "writing vote."

Here is a great little chat with him from miapogeo.com.

Here's an article from the UA website that came out when he won the Whiting Award.

I feel so lucky and grateful to have had the chance to take a class with him. He's an amazing writer and an equally amazing teacher. It's just so clear that he's truly invested in helping his students to improve as writers.

Congratulations Prof. M!


PS---I know, I know, I wasn't supposed to blog first today. But it's a special circumstance! And so far, I've kept my promise to stay away from the blogs. But I'm jonesing bad, man, jonesing bad. Into the tub with me!

Update 8:30 pm: Still haven't looked. I think I'll make it this first day. That has to be the hardest part, right? The only problem is that I've smoked more today than I have in a long time (like 5 cigarettes, instead of one or two.) My health vs. my peace of mind...well, I wasn't very healthy, anway.

Freedom from Information

The forums/blogs/post-subscriptions are driving me into the ground. My obsession with wringing every drop of information from the internet every day is truly starting to affect my quality of life.

I was finished with work today by noon. I ate lunch, walked to the library to return a book, talked to my sister on the phone, and was home by 2 pm. A nice way to start the free portion of my Wednesday.

When I got home, as usual, I went straight to the computer (after saying hi to my furry roommates, Treble the dog and Boots the cat.) I checked the blogs, checked the forums, read through all the posts that I missed while I was at work.

I talked to S. on the phone, I made a call to the Dept. of Education (stupid financial aid/student loan mix-up I'm trying to get fixed.)

Talking to S. was good---and she sent me the most wonderful postcard, a 1953 portrait of Jack Kerouac taken by Allen Ginsberg. She wanted to make sure my mailbox didn't stay empty! I got it today. If it wasn't for her, there would have been nothing in there but my next Six Feet Under DVD.

Then I checked the blogs, checked the forums, read through all the new posts coming in. Checked the blogs, checked the forums, read through...

Suddenly it was 7 pm.

I meant to take a long bath and read, I meant to work on the story I'm writing for workshop, I meant to finally do some Arabic, I meant to get through some administrative-type chores I have to do, I meant to call my grandparents. Instead, I sacrificed my brain and my time to the false idol of internet chatter, again. I mean, I hardly ever get around to reading the news, since all of this started.

This is no way to live. This little addiction of mine is out of control, and it's become progressively worse lately.

So, I'm totally grounded. I hereby solemnly swear that as of now I will NOT look at P & W, I will NOT open the email account where I have all my post-subscriptions delivered, I will NOT visit the MFA Blog or TSE or the GradCafe. If I can get through this and be good, maybe I'll allow myself to check back (during a limited window of time) a week from now. Or, maybe I'll be past the sweats and shakes by then, and won't want to go back.

Either way, I'm reclaiming my life outside of the computer. First, right now, I'm closing all the bad tabs open in my browser, signing out of gmail, and I'm eating a popsicle. Tomorrow I'm going to come home from work, eat lunch and write.

And not in this blog. Really write.

The Tucson Festival of Books is this weekend, 3/14-3/15, and I'm going. I'm really excited. The UA Poetry Center has a list of their events. I want to go to Alison Hawthorne Deming's reading for sure, and I'm also really interested in a talk called "Fiction out of Friction: Evolution, Arabs and Other Controversial Topics," with Robin Brande and Laila Halaby. And a lot more, too much to go into now. I'm falling asleep at the keyboard.


It's almost my bedtime. Goodnight, world.

*

PS--On a related note, Denis Johnson is reading at the Poetry Center on April 9th.

PPS---Why was there no new Lost tonight?

PPPS--Someone recalled the library copy of Burning Down the House I was reading. That's the book I had to return. I've been wanting to buy it, so now I will. It'll be better to be able to mark it all up, anyway.

I Need a JOB

Every time I check the boards, and there are no new posts to read, part of me feels like screaming. I'll lose all respect for myself if I don't find a job soon. This just isn't healthy! I'm trying to quit smoking again, too. (Umm, gradually, but I'm down to no more than 2 or 3 a day). I have a BA and Wendy's won't hire me. None of this is helping. Must...stop hitting...refresh.