heart, broken

Tom Hart's site about his daughter Rosalie blows me away with its open-heartedness. He posts snapshots of his work on both his book about his late daughter and his own journey through grief. It is basically an incredible interpretation of the "process blog," and one that is more helpful to me than I expected.

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As a kid I was possessed of the idea that life, the life I was living, couldn't possibly be the right one. My brother and I joked that we were aliens in disguise, just waiting for the mothership. To be transported, I read. When I was a teenager, I got in to all those books that old dudes read for the thrills but can still be called literature, including Philip K. Dick, in order to shift into another life where I could have fun and be taken seriously. Dick's kind of weird was always a little too man-centered for me, but I understood the humor, paranoia and hope. A Scanner Darkly and Ubik are my favorites. "Bummed Out and Ugly" by Alice Sola Kim is a skillful essay about finding one's own teleporter:
 "I read about anywhere but here. I read about space shit. No one wants to be that predictable and psychologically obvious, but sometimes things are exactly the way you expect them to be."

a gift

When the birthday girl gets you a gift, you know that you've got a good friend.

Dylan Williams, RIP

Dylan Williams, publisher of Sparkplug Comic Books, has died. He was not my friend, in fact, we've only ever met at conventions. A few years ago we had dinner together with a bunch of people at a macrobiotic restaurant after MoCCA. We sent a few emails. He always had the grace to pretend to remember me at cons, and may, in fact, have actually remembered me at least one of those times. He was charming and sweet in an industry known for its jerks and weirdoes. He was an important force in comics that exposed us to new and exciting voices and respected those voices with excellent production. He was a good cartoonist too, no matter what he said about his own work. I always had a little crush on him.

When it was recently announced that Dylan had cancer, the community rallied around him with cash and well wishes. Nobody did that because of the comics, even though the comics were good. Everyone flooded Sparkplug with orders because they loved Dylan. And surely, our love (and money) could beat cancer, right?

I'm sorry it couldn't. I'm sorry that most of us had to be shocked by his death, and then feel stupid for being shocked. I'm sorry that someone so lovely is gone. I'm sorry for me, I'm sorry for you and I am sorry for everyone who will never get to meet Dylan and think, "What a great guy."

I'm sorry.

Let's talk about it.

Edited to add: For more memorials to Dylan, see The Comics Reporter's Collective Memory page.

like extensions of the human hand, heart

As many of you know, I spent the hottest month of the summer in White River Junction, Vermont. I was working in the Center for Cartoon Studies Schulz Library, housed in the same building as the Main Street Museum. I spent my days in the library and many of my nights in the warm, boozy embrace of inhabitants of the apartment above.

This building was central to my time there. It was mangled by Irene. Here are some pictures. Give them some money.

While you consider just how large of a donation you are going to give, here are some photos of A Museum of Early American Tools by Eric Sloane, a library discard from a WRJ school that I found at Left Bank Books in Hanover.

writing about the big ugh

Writing about grief is difficult. For me, not only is there a resurgence of incredibly unpleasant feelings, but the writerly nag of being precise with my language and not repeating myself. For instance, when I have a day like this, I get very specific physical sensations like nausea, pain in my chest and weight on my body along with anger, fear and extreme sadness. I don’t want to say over and over that there is a hole in my heart, though that is the best description, because that would be boring and belongs in a private journal, nor do I want to describe to readers what it is like to want to throw up—they know.

What I do want to do is write openly about grief in a culture that is ashamed of it. I want to help grieving people by showing them that they are not alone, that their feelings of loss are not excessive or insane. I want to help the loved ones of grieving people understand that it just doesn’t go away and how memories haunt objects, places, smells. I want to show how grief affects a depressed person; how I feel a little uncomfortable with the fact that, because of the medical care I’ve received and the hard work I do every day, I feel better than I ever have in my life, despite this sucking wound. I want to talk about how sometimes, (rarely now), grief and depression do a little dance that would have me hanging from the rafters if not for my new-found patience to ride it out. I want to honor my brother and the gifts he gave me by striving to write well and help others that need it.

I want to write my survivor story.

Thank you to all the strangers and friends that have written me over the years to support my writing on this unfun matter. Thanks to all the people who come here to read about books or comics and stick around for all of it. This biggest thank you goes to the people who have lived this with me and who continue to do the hard thing in order to make life easy.

Stuff: Library Edition

RIGHT TO THE CITY FILM SERIES
Historical Memory: The Library in 1956, followed by a discussion with members of Radical Reference
"Toute la mémoire du monde" (All the
Memory of the World) | Dir. Alain Resnais |1956 | short documentary on
France's Bibliothèque nationale
"Storm Center" | Dir. Daniel Taradash | 1956
| McCarthyism, red-baiting, and censorship in an American library,
starring my favorite bug-eyed star, Bette Davis
Sliding scale: $6/$10/$15
Tuesday, August 25, 7:30 pm
Brecht Forum - 451 West St (between Bank and Bethune Sts), Co-sponsored by Red Channel


??????

I have so many fines owed to the NYPL, despite the fact that I could have renewed the three books I recently got online. In fact, I did renew them, just later than I should have. Despite the double-digits due, it was totally worth it. Now, can someone loan me twenty bucks?


??????

The orientation for my program is on Wednesday and I start classes in a week. I've been spending much of my time applying for internships, collecting notebooks from far corners and perfecting the vision of what I want to get out of this program. As someone with a lackluster academic background, this program is a double-challenge to me. As an adult, I feel much more prepared to dive in and give over to the lure of learning. It certainly helps to be healthier and happier. Thanks to everyone that has helped me from the discussion phase to the now; you don't know how much I owe you.

What are you tryharderlanders uo to this Fall?

Here in NYC, with swine flu and tan lines on people's minds, I am fighting both apathy and unpleasant tin-eared intruders.

Luckily, I have some news: I decided on a school. After much conversation, irons in and out of the fire, hand wringing and penny counting, it looks like I'll be staying in New York City. And that is your clue to where I've ended up.

Thanks for all your support, on and off-internet. It helped more than you could ever know, and I'll need more in the coming months.

Additionally, there is a lesson I can can pass on here: It's never too late to sack up and change your life. Even if you had some very bad times, even if you were a loser in a past life, even if you are scared. When this process started it seemed my prospects were dismal. In fact, I got into four of the six school I applied to and was solicited by a few more.

Relief sounds like banging and whooping

A few minutes ago, after days of concern, a glitch in an application to one of my top choices was finally resolved. I feel so much better now.

Have a happy and (healthy) New Year.


Thanks to everyone for reading.

***
Guess who's back?
***
5 books you wish you'd never read?
***
Heartbreak. Never plain. Never simple.
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My 2008 roundup will have to wait until I can take a full breath without some sort of surprising eruption. I will say that all in all, it was a great reading year.

Phew

Even with no hot water, I managed to make it through the GRE today. I did better than I thought, causing my father to unleash a sports metaphor on me, nearly causing me to fall down flat in front of the Port Authority.

Now the hard part begins.

Any suggestions on rocking grad school applications would be greatly appreciated.

Newsy

As you can see by on the widget to the left one of the projects I'm supporting over at Donors Choose has been funded! All you cool kids that helped out please pat yourself on the back and await your tax deduction.

Everybody else, please drop a few bucks for some microscopes for these awesome middle schoolers. When donating, please click through the link at the top of this post so I can see whose donating through try harder.

From the teacher whose classroom we helped:

Dear Carrie Tryharder [and all of you--ed.],

All I can say is WOW! I am so excited about the new materials our class will be getting. You just don't know how much I appreciate your generosity and I know when I tell the students about our new materials they will be overjoyed. You have my promise that the materials will be used to build curiosity and excitement about science. So many inner city children don't get an opportunity to explore science in depth and these materials are a step in that direction. Again, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Sincerely, Kim

***

Hop on over and check out my new reviewing gig at Inkstuds. The dilemma about reviewing single issues has be solved!

Though my first post has already been seen here, please check back for new reviews soon.

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Dag, Frankenstein is good.

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Write me some letters!
Send me some review copies!

Carrie Try Harder
TTS PO BOX 113
New York, NY
10108

The Pitts

Couch-sleeping weekend with the Prog Lady.


Sunny nature (not mine of course). Look at the gigantic web! It was somehow spared annihilation by roving cats. My sinuses were not.


Dang, Steve.


No trip to anywhere is complete without checking out the anarchist bookstore. the big idea's zine collection made me miss the bus. I enjoyed each of these:
Class Project, edited by Susan Ledgerwood: Found pictures with captions by various folks. this is always something I enjoy. Too bad the content can only be as good as the submissions the editor gets.
Skeleton Balls by Nils Balls: psychedelic comics, bitching about the state of things. Nothing really new here, but the art was compelling. I especially liked the anthropomorphic utensils.
Sugar Needle #32 by Phlox Icona & Corina Fastwolf: Candies from all over the world are tasted and teased by the above ladies and their friends. I got it for the interview with Dishwasher Pete, my zine crush forever. I wonder if I still have those notes from him somewhere.
Ker-Bloom! 66 by Artnoose: One of many issues of this pretty little handset zine. I wanted to see if my experience with all Aarons being assholes was upheld by "The Aaron Issue." Too bad the stories about him were so vague. I wanted to see this Aaron not read one sentence anecdotes about him! Oh well.


I miss you already, Prog Lady.

Simple

1) I went to public school in Philadelphia.
2) Even at my "good" public schools, supplies were scarce.
3) I can't imagine what it was like elsewhere.
4) People like Miss Alison (hello, lady) shouldn't have to spend a significant portion of their already shitty salary making a classroom hospitable for kids.
5) Science has been the delight of my recent years and taught me to be inquisitive about, surprised by and respectful of this mysterious world, even during awful and painful times.
6) Kids should get the chance to feel that too, if even they aren't lucky enough to go to a "good" school.
7) I want to give something to my hometown, because, hey, I turned out ok.


Here are the projects I am sponsoring through DonorsChoose. You tryharderlanders have been so generous with your time, praise, thoughts and links. If you could extend that to your wallets, I would be ever so grateful.

Edited to Add: Please leave a comment here if you donate!

Brooklyn Book Fest '08

At the fest I met some people I know only from the internets. Now they know that my skin glistens pink like a piglet on a spit, my hand shake is wet and desultory and that I may be a little slow. Thanks 90% humidity! Even SEC, my stalwart companion on this excursion, who looked unaffected by the heat, had to go home and lie down after a few hours.

As you can see from above, I didn't get much. The three copies of Mothers & Other Monsters are parts of an evil plan, The Baum Plan for Financial Independence and Other Stories was given a thumbs up from Joel, a man who knows his sci-fi stuff, the Monstrosities booklet caught my eye, Ugly Duckling Presse gets me all hot with their design but I am afraid of poetry and the Melville House novellas were irresistible. Look at those paint chip colors! Not pictured are an issue of One Story by Katherine Karlin, a trial subscription to the same and a tote bag from Word books. It was the sturdiest tote for the price, my friends. Also, after sweatily bugging Goodloe Byron for a good hour, I picked up a copy of the new edition of his free book The Abstract.

The best of the evening was after the fest--an Austrian meet and great complete with comics talk, delicious food and cool folk courtesy of looka and eva. Thanks guys!

Last minute party

Sadly, this will not be some service journalism on how to throw together a wicked kegger in 20 minutes or less.

Happily, it is a reminder that Amy Ambulette is having a book party for her new novel How Far is the Ocean from Here. I am excited to read it, not just because she is a great writer, but because I know reading it will inspire me on to bigger and better artistic things, just like my friendship with her has. It will be like friendship in portable form-- what more could you ask for?

I have to thank the Small Beer Press crew for the head's up on iced barley tea.

Yum!

One way to fight black thoughts and bad days is to use whatever you have extra of (time, money, art supplies, love) to help someone who is at risk have a chance to do something great.

"Helping Books Find Libraries Since 2003"
I have been remiss in not posting about the Dewey Donation System earlier; it is a project of pamie and friends that send books and sometimes money to libraries in need. Often it is a surprise to the librarians when they start recieving the packages. Nice, huh? You have to use Amazon for the book donations which is a drag, but you will get over it.

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Another site I like to peruse when I am feeling help-y is Donors Choose, which helps teachers get much-needed supplies for their students. Some projects in Philadelphia that intrigued me:
- Kids in Germantown need owl barf for science!
- Some reluctant readers need those comics!
- Second graders in Wissinoming want to snap photos for a neighborhood history project!

Of course, there are many proposals for basic school supplies and textbooks as well.

If you decide to sponsor a project or donate something, please let us know!

Thinking of the children,
Carrie Tryharder

five years.

oh my!

Book Swap 1, 2008

Last week I invited the bookiest best from my friends and acquaintances to get rid of books they don't want anymore and get anything that rouses their imagination, all for free.

I was too dumb and tired to think to take photographs during the actual event, but luckily my partner in crime busted out the camera late in the evening to capture the what-it-is of the book swap:



Note participant's work clothes and glazed look.


Leftover books.


No more condiments.


Doing it right.

See what you missed being all "tired from work?"
Amy Ambulette's haul here.

Great things

Dooce has an excellent essay on living with depression. She has written about this topic before, and I have linked to it, but, once again, she has turned out an intelligent, honest and thoughtful piece on a condition that defines my life. Her husband wrote an essay on being a depressed person's partner that is worth reading too.

Over at the Freebird site, Peter Miller is really kicking out the blog.

Creepy, but amusing, gift ideas.