1 December 2013

Here is the long and short (no pun intended…OK, yes pun intended) of how it went: My piece of writing could be classified as a healthy novella, about 25,000 words. It is made up of a number of stories, some quite brief and serving more of a framing function than anything else, and some quite long. One narrative thread could be a novelette in itself, if you include the related narratives embedded within it, which perhaps you don’t (this ambiguity one of the great things about frame stories). It is definitely a good foundation for a longer, more polished work of novel length.

So would I count the experience as a success? Yes and no. No in that I didn’t make the word count, which is a fundamental aspect of a “just do it!” challenge like this. It’s disappointing that another year running I didn’t meet the challenge. Yes in that I came closer than ever before. In that I’m proud of my little work and I intend to work on it to completion, whatever that means (I’m not going to equate “completion” with a word count of 50,000). Another great thing about frame stories is that you can always add stories and take stories away. They’re inflatable, compressible, expandable, shrinkable….) And I intend to make it good, which means I will take it slow and steady.

Some days I wanted to write and I wrote. Some days I didn’t want to write and I wrote anyway. Other days I positively rebelled against myself for subjecting myself to such a monstrous thing, and read a book, went for a walk or dabbled in German instead. Anything but write. Part of the struggle on those days was the struggle to overcome the feeling that I was wasting my time…and indeed, many, many things vyed for my attention throughout the month, many of which I love doing just as much as writing, and will bear a little more fruit in the here in what is essentially a critical growing season, i.e., my time in Spain. Translating, and everything to do with translating. Planning a trip. Studying Catalan. I can write a novel in English in a month anytime. But there are some things that make the most sense to focus on in the 10 to 12 months I’m in Catalonia, in Spain, in Europe, in grad school.

Though to be fair, it doesn’t have to be one thing or another. I definitely found that my work was a great platform for reflection on and consolidation of the topics I’m covering in school and the novel things and ideas I encounter in my daily life in Spain. The whole work is a pseudo-translation (rare these days) with a translator who inserts herself quite a bit into the text (rarer still in any era). For example, one of my short stories is based on the life of Gaudí.

Incidentally, because I live so close to the Sagrada Familia, and indeed in a city so permeated with the colors and textures of Gaudí—or maybe just because he was a great person—I’ve taken a great interest in Gaudí. And one of the reasons for this is his complete dedication to his craft, and indeed his increasingly narrowed and intensified focus throughout his life. He dedicated the last 10 years of his life to working exclusively on the Sagrada Familia. And when I write about and reflect on that, I begin to wonder why I’m not focusing even a little more single-mindedly on being a great translator. Indeed, there’s a section of the Sagrada Familia, a downstairs chapel, that is open to the public and contains Gaudi’s tomb. Beside it are a few pamphlets and cards for sale for 0.10-2.00 euros promoting the movement for Gaudí’s beatification. Despite not being Catholic and even having mixed feelings about the beatification process, I did get a little card for the beautiful prayer on it, which reads in part: “You instilled in your servant Antoni Gaudí, architect, a great love for your Creation…. Grant…that I also may learn to dedicate myself to a well-done work.”

Of course, we don’t (and can’t) all take things to the extreme that Gaudí did. I don’t get the impression from what I read about him that he was an altogether well-rounded human being.

Nanowrimo could be called the literary equivalent of a crash diet or a gung-ho exercise program. I don’t think I realized, before diving in, the degree to which writing is a practice, a discipline, a facet of a lifestyle—especially good writing. I’ve heard it said that completing the Nanowrimo challenge requires training and a gradual buildup throughout the year. Personally, then, I find the whole concept of Nanowrimo a little paradoxical. If you’re already in the habit of writing regularly, without great big fits and starts and stops, then you don’t really need a month-long word binge.

The whole experience has been one of mirrors and poles. I’m satisfied and I’m not. It’s a novel(-in-progress), the longest type of literary work that is commonplace today (unless you classify huge tomes distinctly), and a collection of short stories, which constitute the shortest type of literary work that is commonplace today (unless you classify flash fiction and the like distinctly). It’s a necessary act and a waste of time. It’s a translation and an original work. It’s one practice that would benefit from singleminded focus amid many. It’s about quantity, it’s about quality. To take up the Nanowrimo challenge is to play with extremes and opposites. And maybe that helps us create more powerful synergies.

I’m setting my own challenge, then. I’d like to finish a draft of my novel. A good, polished one, regardless of word count. Not this month. And not next month. But before I leave Spain, so that I can edit and polish it up properly after I leave. As one of my favorite writers, Téa Obreht, said:

“I did no writing while I was visiting the Balkans. I do no writing while I’m in Belgrade visiting my grandma. There’s a way you think about your experiences and process them after the fact that makes it much more organic. When you’re in a place, the details you focus on are different than details you focus on when you’re writing about it.”

Ultimately, I’d like to self-publish the book before 1 November 2014. It’s ambitious, but you have to set goals. It may not be very good, but as another of my favorite writers, Orson Scott Card, said, all writers have a million words of crap that they need to get out of their system. I will have come a little closer to that.

31 October 2013

For a long time, perhaps a few Novembers, the challenged posed by Nanowrimo (National [OK, international] Novel Writing Month) has beckoned. Specifically, the challenge is to write a 50,000 word novel in a month. Obviously the word “novel” has to be used loosely, since it implies a degree of completion. One can barely reach the word count by quasi-freewriting a text that hopefully turns out somewhat coherent in 30 short days. But reaching the word count in itself is a reflection of completing something: putting pen to paper, again and again and again, and in the process inevitably making manifest at least a few good ideas.

I’ve had a few conversations with a few people about this write-a-thon, and find that there are a few different attitudes out there about it. Those with positive attitudes toward it generally feel that there is something special about taking on such a daunting challenge at the same time as people all over the world, and that it’s a way to cultivate creativity. Some with negative attitudes liken it to binge eating–a literary sugar shock, if you will, and some think it’s an outright waste of time that could be better spend doing a whole range of other things.

I’ve weighed the arguments, and I am going to give it a try. Here are a few reasons why.

1. As counterintuitive as it might seem, it’s a way to meet people. A group of writers are meeting for a kickoff in the city center tomorrow. I think a certain amount of solidarity and kinship could be achieved through working separately-yet-together towards an essentially common purpose that may not be so easily achieved though a hike in the woods or something together.

2. While some do think it’s inorganic, the notion of a concrete goal really appeals to me. And in the end it’s not so hard to achieve. I’m not asking myself to publish a novel in 30 days, or even a year. I’m just asking myself to write words. Words are not scary. They’re just words. All I have to do is put one word after another. Even if my imagination doesn’t magically kick in and make the writing a breeze (right away), that mechanical, analytical part of my brain that can just produce words and string them together with an acceptable syntax has promised to do just that for all 30 days of the challenge if it has to. After all…

3. It’s more than an end; it’s a chance to generate some ideas and inject some life into my future writing.

4. While I am surrounded by Spanish and Catalan every day, even translating into Spanish, it’s a chance to play with my native language. All good translators are good writers.

5. Most importantly, it’s because I’ve always identified myself as a writer. I write a lot. But I rarely write things that I can share; my writing is often the linguistic equivalent of building staircases to nowhere. I think writing is as social as anything else; after all, language was developed as a tool for communication, and it happens that writing can be an impersonal form of this. Ideally, I would write to communicate to a particular audience things they would like to hear and to know. But even the best ideas, the most comforting and hopeful or insightful messages, cannot have much impact if they are not finished, unless they become staircases one might choose to take.

I’ve made this commitment at one of the busiest times of my life: a master’s program, an internship, Catalan courses, English lessons, and a mentorship on the horizon. Not to mention the mere fact of living on my own in a foreign country as of six weeks ago, and the ongoing process of figuring everything out for myself. And so I’ve had doubts about Nanowrimo since the thought entered my head. But all the things I’m doing are things I love. And a synergy can arise from doing things one loves that makes possible more than one would have imagined.

26 May 2013

When life gives you, as the latest of many gifts over a span of some 44 months, a friend who will make you coffee and chat with you late into the night even though she has to work tomorrow, because she knows you don't, it's a good occasion to get dressed up at one in the morning, put on an Astrud Gilberto playlist and smile as you dance around your flat, because it's the last time you'll be living alone for, quite possibly, a very long time, and pack your things to go. As my days in the Holy Land come to a close, I find myself focusing in on the smallest things, like these, and learning out of absolute necessity about what it means to be absolutely present in the moment. International Convention played no small part in acquiring that skill...but the story of that is long and can wait until I am on the other side of the Atlantic. First things first.

17 March 2013

The annual Bahá’í fasting period is now nearing its end. The fast:

“involves complete abstention from food and drink from sunrise till sunset. It is essentially a period of meditation and prayer, of spiritual recuperation, during which the believer must strive to make the necessary readjustments in his inner life, and to refresh and reinvigorate the spiritual forces latent in his soul. Its significance and purpose are, therefore, fundamentally spiritual in character. Fasting is symbolic, and a reminder of abstinence from selfish and carnal desires.”

From: http://info.bahai.org/article-1-4-7-2.html

It used to be hard, but now it is one of my favorite times of year. Here are just some of the things I love about it:

It forces me to slow down, think before I act, consider the differences between need and want, and weigh the importance of things.
It is a wonderful opportunity to break some bad habits (overeating, drinking too much coffee, etc. etc.)
It is an even better opportunity to build new good habits (prayer, eating regular meals, sharing meals with friends…)
(and a new one) It builds relationships with those who are fasting alongside us.

I am very happy that this year my aunt Susan is fasting with me. I had a lot of doubts as to how we would go about fasting “together” half a world apart. Technology makes that easier; still, I didn’t want to undertake anything too contrived, like forced daily “how was your day” check-ins. The way that things have unfolded, though, has been very natural. We just keep up a conversation about our struggles and our victories, and the prayers and passages that guide us through in our efforts to achieve our own spiritual goals during the fast (mine is to really focus on building spiritual habits like prayer and reading the Writings and making these a part of my daily life). Each fast I’ve done has been a little easier physically and a little harder spiritually than the last fast. And I think that means I really am growing.

I highly recommend it.

In my last post (ages ago, I know…I’m sorry!) I talked about starting a translation blog, thefaithfultranslator.wordpress.com. I’ve put up a few articles. Do give me a little feedback. I thoroughly expect that it won’t be very good from the beginning. But with feedback, maybe I can accelerate the process of making it interesting and useful to those who also take an interest in translation.

In any case, I created a bottom row of links I intend to eventually split off (assuming that the top row will become my professional translation website) and one is for creative writing. This week a group of writerly souls is getting together for a writers’ workshop and some of us will take on the challenge of writing a poem a day in April for (American) National Poetry Month. April may be the busiest month of my life to date, what with the Eleventh International Bahá’í Convention looming on the horizon of its end (see http://news.bahai.org/story/624 - the guy with the gray hair behind the computer is acting in one of the many capacities I will act in too…and hopefully the participants I assist will not look so confused after I finish with them). And in a sense, I feel that I don’t have time for writing. But “time for writing” will never come to me if I wait for it. Given I talk about writing much more than I actually do it, the coming month is a great chance to shut my mouth and pick up my pen. Particularly on the heels of the lesson that doing something in solidarity with others, singly yet together, brings energy and joy to the endeavor.

So, do stay tuned to the section of my blog thefaithfultranslator.wordpress.com titled “poems, stories and other writing” through the month of April, and I will do my best to produce poetry that is at the very least not sub-Vogon in quality.

(for reference see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vogons)

After two extension of my service, and nearly a third (I played with the idea of staying on for a few more months, but dropped it due to impracticalities), I am finally getting ready to go once and for all. Obviously, after four years I have much to reflect upon. Either my reflections are still in their embryonic stages or they have been ongoing for the past year. Probably the latter. I have been a little frustrated with myself over the past year, slaving away over my future plans and withdrawing very deep into myself, sometimes dwelling on my limitations and imperfections. In a relatively self-contained community of around 6-700 people, withdrawing deep into yourself puts you in an awkward place which makes hard things even harder. But I think I’ve really grown on the inside. The greatest thing I’ve done is to finally understand that I should be, and ultimately am, in control of my own life. And I’m ready to grow more on the outside too. Just as an example, where in the past I had such fears of public speaking that I missed out on some great opportunities (like interpreting for pilgrim talks or guiding pilgrim groups at the International Archives building), now I’ve read before an audience comprised of almost the entire World Centre, and I’m delighted to be reading at a friend’s wedding this week. And I think the next phases in my life are good arenas to do some growing on the outside.

Life’s chess moves (combined with my toil) are playing out such that it appears I will complete graduate studies in Spain after all, with a little (OK, a lot of) help from my wonderful, extraordinarily supportive dad and Chris. I’ve been admitted to the Universitat Pompeu Fabra in Barcelona, Spain. I have an office mate from Andorra who attended the very same school and studied translation as an undergraduate, and she is an excellent translator. From what I hear, Spanish culture is laid-back enough that I will have plenty of time to study hard, work, develop a freelance translation business, get involved in activities in the community (I’m trying to find a writers’ group to join, and of course there are always the Bahá’í activities, and simply exploring Barcelona and maybe beyond…wherever my feet and my limited budget can take me), and probably get moving around 10 in the morning every day (not that I intend to; I can never wake up that late anyway). As luck would have it, I know a smattering of people all over Spain, including a handful in or around Barcelona, and while none of them are my best friends, a start is better than nothing. I am sure that it will be hard sometimes, but it’s hard for growing to occur without experiencing some hard times.

And after Spain…I’m working hard on some plans. I was admitted to McGill to study library science. Montreal is the largest bilingual city in the world (not in a language I speak, but it would be a great opportunity to learn, since everything, everything in Montreal is presented in one language, then immediately, in the other), and I am interested in studying multilingual information access, under a certain professor whom I adore and whose research fascinates me…so given the circumstances, it makes a lot of sense to apply for a Fulbright grant, develop and state my case as eloquently as possible, with a little mentorship from my friend who’s a Fulbright scholar in London now, and the remote BWC librarian who has been in town for some six weeks and who is proving a wonderful and supportive mentor…and wait and see whether the Fulbright committee sees fit to give me a major grant…then…if I study there, make every effort to remain in this wonderful city I visited in 2009 and immediately felt like home.

Things are looking up.

In the meantime, I have to cut through all the red tape. So I’ll be applying for a Spanish visa from home, which means I’ll be spending three months most likely based in Madison, visiting people, putting things into place, with effort and luck, picking up some work, and God willing finding some time to just enjoy the lakes and trees and quietude of a non-middle-Eastern summer (middle Eastern summers are not easy) and beautiful fresh air. The farmer’s market. The Art Fair on the Square. The combined knitting and coffee shop on Lakeside Street. If I can stay long enough, the Sheep and Wool Festival with Susan, over my birthday weekend. I miss knitting quite a bit. I haven’t been doing it because knitting just doesn’t fit into the pace and style of my life in Israel. But I am eager to get back into it.

I looked into applying for the visa from Israel and going straight to Spain, but it’s not possible. So I have to go home for a while…and in the end, I think that’s the best way for things to be, because if money were no object, that is what I’d be doing! So if circumstances force me to follow my heart’s path, then so be it; I’m more than happy to go with the current. Interestingly, I have many, many reasons/requirements/excuses to travel to Chicago this summer: to drop off my visa application. To pick up my visa application. To visit friends who intend to move to Chicago. To visit the Bahá’í temple. To attend one of 95 worldwide conferences for Bahá’í youth. To attend the annual American Library Association conference in Chicago and do some preliminary networking. To go to the Art Museum, to go to Millennium Park, to walk Michigan Avenue and to do all the touristy things I used to love to do in high school when I was supposed to be perusing the paintings in the Art Museum the whole day (even now I find that tiresome…there is just so much art that somebody sometime decided was good enough to put on display in a really fancy venue for a really long time [my attitudes towards art have shifted substantially over the years…I still love it, but I’m a not such a fan of the passivizing society of the spectacle]). Quite possibly, to catch the flight that takes me to Spain.

11 January 2013

There will be a conference on interdisciplinary translation studies in Mashhad, Iran from 30 April to 2 May. And there are about 40 reasons I won't go, not least of which being that it falls entirely within what will assuredly be the busiest period of my life...OK, actually, that probably is the least among them.

I would love to go to Iran. I read books about it and from it and study the language even with the knowledge I will probably never go.

But you never know!

If you find a spare moment, please check out my new blog, thefaithfultranslator.wordpress.com, and please tell me what you think of it, whether your comments be good, bad or ugly. I want to hear the truth. You cannot offend me, you can only encourage me or save me from embarrassment. It's win-win. I assume (and hope) the quality of the content will improve or at the very least become less abstract once I get my feet wet in the business or just proceed with my studies. So for now it is just a testing ground. So far the only feedback I have to go on is the complete lack thereof, which is a bit discouraging...but this is something I love to talk and write about, so after all just doing it and keeping going is a reward in itself.

On life lately: work is intensifying, but I'm glad to be occupied with meaningful work. I moved into a new flat and while I absolutely love having my own place, and am extremely grateful, I feel a bit as though I live in a hotel, a temporary holding station, where I can eat and sleep until I go. My possessions are beginning to find new homes; projects are beginning to wrap up; I'm doing the last studies and readings I'll have the chance to do in the Holy Land; and I'm spending my last hours in the Shrines. Oh, and I've already made tentative plans to come back. I have some friends who were thinking of traveling to some combination of Greece, Turkey, Cyprus and Italy--all places I would have loved to visit if money were no object--next month, but they decided to save their pennies for the transition home. So, with any good fortune, we will visit some combination of these countries together plus Israel five or ten or so years down the road. But, first things first...such as enjoying our last months together--we're leaving in June. Oh, and visiting each other in Madison when we're back in our respective parts of the US, in, say, July.

7 December 2012

This is my second post in less than a month--I don't think I have been on such a roll since 2010. Maybe I am starting to earn and deserve my readership.

My stay-cation was good. I lodged one application to a Spanish graduate program, in Barcelona. As for the rest that I might apply to for now all I can do is prepare and wait. In Spain it is not uncommon for universities to do the same in March or April. One does not open until May. Talk about laid-back.

I have had the privilege of having a number of dear family and friends look over my materials and give me feedback. Some of the most valuable feedback I got was from a friend in Israel--she went through the whole essay I wrote for the school in Barcelona and cut out every instance of "I", "me" and "my" she possibly could--and there were quite a few. The end product was more meaningful, striking and to the point. Makes me shudder to think about going back and reading some of my previous blog entries.

In that vein, I have a friend, Sahar, who has been kind enough to lend me the netbook I am tapping out this entry on, who has a blog, saharsblog.wordpress.com. The title is in effect ironic, because the blog is about everything but Sahar herself--and that tells you a whole lot about her. She asks plainly on her blog's "About" page: "Let me start off by say that Sahar’s Blog is definitely NOT a day-to-day diary description of what I am up to – not only it might bore you to death, but what’s the point of everyone knowing what I am up to?"

It's a good question for anyone to ask. I write "Hacer el camino al andar" to keep my friends and family posted on what I'm doing on this side of the world, but wouldn't you come to know more about me, plus some other interesting and useful stuff too, if I used this blog to show you not so much the filter itself as the world through it?

With that I'll share with you another fruit of the labor I put in during my stay-cation: thefaithfultranslator.wordpress.com

The heart of it is a blog about translation issues. My intention is that the top row of links might become part of a web presence as a freelance translator; and the bottom row of links, when the time to professionalize comes, might be split off into a different forum. I began it before these reflections on ego had taken root in my head, so I'm still working on purging it of self and keeping the focus on translation. Any and all feedback is appreciated. I don't know what will become of this blog, but the title itself leaves the door wide open. It comes from this poem by Spanish poet Antonio Machado:

Caminante, son tus huellas
el camino, y nada más;
caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.
Al andar se hace camino,
y al volver la vista atrás
se ve la senda que nunca
se ha de volver a pisar.
Caminante, no hay camino,
sino estelas en la mar.

Soon I'll post a translation on my translation blog :)

18 November 2012

Let me apologize for the long delay.

Things are going well. My hare-brained (harebrained?) scheme to study translation in Spain and library science in Canada is actually coming together, despite months of feeling anxious that things wouldn't work out--and now I feel that whatever happens, I'll be satisfied, but the worst thing is to have a dream and not try to find the way to achieve it. Already, I know that I've learned invaluable things through the mere act of making the effort, such as: there are obstacles in your path that someone or something else puts there, and then there are obstacles in your path that you yourself put there (and can do something about), and there are obstacles that aren't real and exist only in your imagination.

And that it never hurts to ask a question.

And that some of the things left-field people say are actually right. Who would have known it?

I'm taking a few days off work just to have a break from the office and catch up on some personal projects, including:

Graduate school applications. Of course. This is a huge amount of work and I'm a slowpoke, but I'm getting there. An advisor at UWM (God bless her soul for helping me go somewhere else) told me to look at as many schools as possible. It's an exhaustive, exhaustive exercise, but in the process of asking questions and getting answers (often more promising than I expected), viable candidates are shaping up fairly quickly. A lot of things will become clearer in January. Besides that, I'm:

Writing: I hardly ever make time for this. Not long ago I issued a general appeal to all Baha'i World Centre writers to let me know who they are and what they write. In a couple of weeks I'm having a poetry-prose reading at my house and so I ought to have something to share. I've looked through some old poems and other writing and think I can do better. A lot of it feels immature. I'm going to work on writing something more sophisticated and if it works out I'll post it here.

Translating: A couple of months ago I had the idea to join the fascinating conversation online of translation bloggers and their blogs. I actually wrote down a number of themes and drafted about seven entries and then my laptop died. So, starting over. I'm also thinking of looking for a little freelance work, anything to start to understand how the field works and help me a little along the way financially.

Calligraphing: I don't know if I've ever written about this, but having visited all the Holy Places, whose walls are decorated with calligraphy and other items, a number of times, having visited the International Archives Building which displays some of the original Baha'i writings, rendered in calligraphy, having volunteered in the Conservation office for a year, and having had friends who are expert calligraphers too (one of my most prolific friends is a descendant of Mishkin-Qalam, a famous early Baha'i and calligapher whose best known work appears at the bottom of the page) I've been inspired to do some of this myself. It seems that most people love to have a piece of artwork that says something that has meaning to them, so I can't post any good examples of calligraphy I've already done, having given the good pieces away, but I intend to start taking pictures of things before I give them away, for the record, and the blog.

I can, however, share with you a picture I took yesterday around Stella Maris monastery and cathedral, a Catholic pilgrimage site, yesterday (I am sorry, I tried to upload a few more pictures but it took forever, then the mechanism broke. I am thinking of starting an Instagram account since I am pleased this company shares my love of square-shaped images [it only allows square-shaped images] and then I should be able to share a lot more pictures):