Day 2838 - Ira Glass

So yesterday James, Gretchen, and I drove up to Fort Collins to see the number one person on my "People Who Inspire You" List: Ira Glass.  And I've spent the last hour or so trying to write a blog about it.

I'm finding that it's extremely difficult to put into words how amazing it is to see someone doing exactly what I want to do with my life (and especially doing it extremely well).  And it's not just difficult to describe because I feel like my writing won't live up to Ira's style of storytelling, but also because summing up a two hour talk from someone with such amazing insight always seems like a cheap shot: spouting out a few slogans, or soundbites, completely out of context and with little regard to. . . well anything really.

I'd have to say that what I love about Ira Glass is that he's so completely honest, and it seems like distilling that raw emotion, or power--or whatever you want to call it--into a blog feels like cramming a library full of all the best stories in the world into a fortune cookie.  Sure, I could talk about how he basically cut audio into what sounded exactly like an episode of This American Life right there on stage using just a microphone and an iPad.  Or I could tell you any number of quotes that gave me chills.  I'm sure you would be interested about the part of the talk when he made a balloon animal poodle and gave it to a lady in the fifth row, which was fantastic.  But that couldn't begin to sum it up.  
Summing it up would be impossible.  As Ira said yesterday, "The goal isn't to report what is new.  It's to report what is."  Not just the flash, but the real truthy details of something.

And I must say, when that is your goal, blogging becomes extremely difficult.    

Blogging with that in mind is like having Ira Glass standing over my shoulder, his glasses gently reflecting the light of my computer screen.  And he's softly mumbling, "I was, um. . . I was really inspiring today, you know what I mean?  And it's like you didn't really absorb it.  You tried to absorb it, but you didn't really absorb it.  I've gotta tell you, uh, I don't know if you. . . If you really understood it."

And that picture is super intimidating right about now, so instead of trying to sum up honestly, I'll just leave you with this:



love always,
-jim.

P.S. Two more things:

1. Nanowrimo starts tomorrow and I'm going to try really, really hard this year (fingers crossed).
2. I've been thinking over the past couple of weeks that I really want to apply to be a This American Life intern, and hearing Ira Glass speak today only confirmed my aspiration (fingers crossed).       

   

Day 2602 - In Regards to a Blog Post By One James Hart

Hello everyone,

So James wrote a blog concerning his belief that the next year will be the most important period of his writing career. I thought it basically described everything that I've been feeling lately, so I thought I would comment. But I didn't know where the comment button is on Tumblr. Thus, there is this:

Last night I had a dream that I was an astronaut on an Apollo 11. I say an Apollo 11 because it was clear to me, even in the dream, that I was not on the Apollo 11. My Apollo 11 was made out of cardboard boxes with a few holes cut in the side. (Picture the TARDIS from Dr. Who but very poorly constructed, with 'Apollo 11' written on the side in really drippy paint, and the whole thing placed on the stage of my high school auditorium).

However, the feeling of being a real Apollo 11 astronaut was definitely correct. There were press people snapping photos of me as I entered the ship. Everything was sepia toned and there was some very epic music in the background--violins, drums, perhaps the occasional trumpet blast. It was all very... historically significant-ish. And right as the music reached its loudest, and the rockets ignited, and I could feel the thrust of acceleration pressing me backward into my seat--my cell phone rang.

For some reason, I had decided to bring my cell phone on Apollo 11--despite the stringent regulations about sterilization, and payload weight, and incorrect chronological time period. And instead of thinking, 'now is not the time!' I immediately thought, 'I should answer this. It could be a grad school. I wouldn't want to miss that.'

The call was muffled but still audible over the sound of the rocket engines. The sepia tones were gone now, and we were rocketing through bright greens and blues--sky and trees.

"Mr. Taggart, this is John James Williams." His voice was raspy and far away--like he was in a call center. I imagined him eating cold teriyaki chicken with rice from a Tupperware container as he stared at a computer screen. He pulled his headset away from his mouth so he wouldn't hit it with his fork.

"Hi?" I said.

"I was calling to process payment for your order."

"Uh," I said, trying to remember what it was that I had ordered. Apollo 11 was getting lower, blasting down city streets, through labyrinths of red brick buildings. "Sure, no problem."

"For the chocolate you ordered."

"Yes," I said, "chocolate." I watched out the window as Apollo 11 traveled past a fire hydrant. "Do you have an email address that I could...uh, send that, um...to?"

His email was JohnJamesWilliams @ Ambien.net, which I later thought was interesting since I was, after all, sleeping when he gave it to me. I told John James Williams that I would email him as soon as I got the chance.

Despite the fact that I was was both on Apollo 11 and about to receive a shipment of Ambien-laced chocolate (both exciting prospects), I was annoyed that John James Williams wasn't a graduate school representative.

When I woke up, I thought that perhaps my priorities were off.

I think that it's time that I get back to focusing on writing--not on waiting for grad phone calls. John James Williams was trying to tell me something, I think.

Therefore, at the behest of James Hart and John James Williams, I am going to declare the next year as "The Most Important Period of My Writing Career." Beginning on the day after my graduation (i.e. May 15), I will write at least one hour every weekday with the goal of completing one story a week. Each month, I will send at least one story out to be considered for publication.

And I will document the process on the blog.

As James' blog would say, it's time to distribute or dissipate.

Love always,
-jim.