Author: Matthew Groff

  • Questioning Everything, Still (Unedited)

    There are some things that I don’t like about getting older, but I have mentioned my unfathomable dissepiment of ear hair already. But, I’m not here to speak of that.

    I, like most people, was an angsty teenager, and my distrust of anyone over the age of thirty was a pretty solid foundation in what I considered to be my character. I didn’t like the world that was around me, and I wanted desperately not to be the type of adult that reinforced the status quo. I challenged the ideas behind institution and conventions. Over my seven years of university education, I felt that continued in my questioning ways, and though I can admit that I came to no life changing conclusions, I did adopt the philosophy of looking to alternatives first.

    Then something happened in my thirties, and into my forties; I started to accept the way of things, and in some situations I would even get very angry at the way things had. I started to use phrases like, “That’s just how it is,” or “What are you gun’na do” way too often. I believed I was being a realist, seeing the world as it is, but in reality I was just giving up.

    I don’t say this lightly, but I gave up. I stopped trying. I started to look at life as something that I had failed at. That I had played, and lost, and I should just go away – Watch my tv, eat my chips, complain about the music being too loud.

    And I started to wonder; is this what it’s like getting older? Just being angry all the time? That sounds awful, but I began to ponder about it. How many people are out there are really angry that things didn’t work out the way they through they would? How many of those people are middle aged men? How many of these men are just projection their self-disappointment?

    Am I on that path right now? Can I still get off of it?

  • What I Taught My Kid

    What I Taught My Kid

    My daughter learned how to do this. I felt it was important that she understood the brilliance of “The Ministry of Silly Walks” sketch.

  • ODDS and ENDS: End of the Season, No Room, and 25-5

    (All This Can Be Yours…)

    Tottenham has two matches left to the season, and I think the best that they can do is 6th place. I predict that Spurs will lose to Brentford, and then end with a win against Leeds. There is still a chance that Tottenham will qualify for the Europa League, or the Europa Conference League next season, but being how tough the last several matches have been, they could burn out easily. I would like to see them win a trophy next season, any trophy. But all of that will depend on the next manager and if Harry Kane sticks around.

    I’m running out of room for books in my apartment. And, I have about nine file boxes in storage of more books that the wife and I have collected. I refuse to get rid of the books. That just feels like abandoning your child. Yet, I also feel compelled to go book shopping this weekend.

    I should get a move on, you know. I was able to write these first to sections of this post rather fast, and now, for the past hour I have been trying to come up with a third paragraph. Not sure why I hit this block all of a sudden. I started looking out the livingroom window, and everything just ground to a halt. I was thinking about the kid at school, and how close Summer is, and if we were going to be able to get a vacation up to Maine this year. (Rather late in the year, so I’m thinking not.) Just random idea after random idea, but nothing solid that would lend itself to a narrative. Has anyone heard of the 25 – 5-minute rule? You work for 25 minutes, and then give yourself a 5-minute break. It’s supposed to help you stay focused and not burn out. Huh?

  • What Does Malcolm Gladwell Know, Anyway…?

    I will be house husbanding it today.

    I also think the words, house husband should be spelled “house-husband,” but autocorrect disagrees with me. English is a strange language which never stops evolving.

    And when I say that I will be house husbanding “it” what that really means is I have a bunch of errands to run around the city for the family. Every now and then, a day like is emerges and I have to put a bunch of other things that I would like to do on the back burner. Life is about trade-offs, and today, I will be living the trade-off.

    But, one thing that I won’t let myself skip out on is putting down at least 250 words daily. I have been a little lax on the blog since the start of the year. I would post Monday through Friday, with occasional holiday breaks. But since the start of the year, it has been closer to four post a week. I still journal every day, which is how I normally hit my 250-word quota. A good day is 1,000 words, and bad day is 250.

    You know, I started all of this back in 2019. I’m four years into this plan. Outside of my marriage, this is the longest commitment I have ever maintained. I started to think the other day that I should be closing in on my Gladwell 10,000 hours. Now if I do some simple math, like saying that I write about 3 hours a day, on average for 21 days a month, for four years now which means…

    I’ve put in 3,024 hours…

    So… I guess I’m still in my beginner phase.

    You know, Gladwell said that the 10,000 hours was just a guideline, not a hard rule.

    Yeah…

    I need to get going on my errands.

  • Short Story Review: “Long Island” by Nicole Krauss

    (The short story “Long Island” by Nicole Krauss appeared in the May 22nd, 2023 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (I’m gun’na try not to, but beware of SPOILERS!)

    Illustration by Javi Aznarez

    There are no rules to writing. None. Whoever told you that you had write something in a certain way was lying to you. You can write whatever you want, about anything you want… provided you are good at it.

    Such as, you can’t start a story with a huge run-on sentence, and then spend the next couple of paragraphs just describing things with no narrative direction.

    Sure you can. Nicole Krauss did it in her story “Long Island.”

    Maybe it was supposed to be a “memory” story, because it’s not like this was stream of consciousness, but the story had the feeling of a memoir, what life was like out on Long Island in the late 70’s. This is a story of memory, experience, and all stirred up with a healthy bit of reflection and comparison.

    I enjoyed this piece of fictional nostalgia; of a time and a place that will not exist anymore. An upper middle-class family that lived in Sutton Place, who bought and renovated an estate on a hill, and then moved into this suburban world. There is nothing normal or average about this family – they are privileged due to their money, but are presented here as normal, mainstream and as average as anyone else. But when you are a kid, you just assume the way you live is that – normal, and like everyone else. Krauss doesn’t labor this point, but only on reflection of this story, did it dawn on me. This story lulled me, and I enjoyed that aspect.

    I like how the excuse to leave New York City for the suburbs was to escape the crime in the city. Yet, the neighborhood they moved into is filled with criminals. At least the socially acceptable gossipy kind of criminals who commit their crimes behind closed doors, and are dutifully punished. Yet, the narrator understands that this just the crime they know about.

    I was entertained by this story. This wasn’t life changing fiction, but it didn’t waste my time. I like how Krauss compared her disinterested parents parenting with her generations over parenting, and how neither system seems to be creating better children. Yet both generation of parents tried in their own ways to keep the evils of the world at bay. In the end, a form of evil always found its way in.

    Nicole Krauss crafted a story that didn’t follow the hero cycle, or a traditional plot/climax formula. What functioned as the rise in action/climax made sense with the story’s logic, which worked well to give the piece a release of tension that created the felling of resolution. Now, it did have a “Dead Chick in the Basket*” last paragraph, which I don’t want to say too much about as to not spoil the story, but I don’t think it added anything to the ending or point of the story. But that’s my only criticism here.

    In the end, “Long Island” played with form and story, and kept me engaged and on my toes. And it made me think about parents and how they tried their best. And it also reminded me that when you are a good writer, there are no rules if you can tell a good story.

    *  “Dead Chick in the Basket” refers to a clichéd writing device where the final paragraph of a short story contains new information about a character which is meant to make the reader view the actions, statements, or feelings of that character in a different light. The first known use of this device was in J.D. Salinger’s short story “Just Before the War with the Eskimos.”