Tag: Writing

  • Guest Blogger: ChatGPT

    Today’s Topic: The Joy of Blogging

    Blogging is, at its heart, an intimate conversation—a personal dialogue with the world that somehow feels both public and private. It has a unique place in the digital landscape, offering a freedom that no other medium quite captures. For me, blogging is much like sitting in a quiet coffee shop, composing thoughts that blend the personal with the universal, knowing that anyone could read them, but also savoring the chance that no one might. There’s a joy in that ambiguity.

    I’ve always found that writing, especially in a blog, allows for a certain reflection that we often lack in daily life. It’s not hurried or transactional like so much of our communication today. It’s meditative. Whether you’re writing about a movie, a book, a meal, or a fleeting thought that crossed your mind while walking the dog, blogging is a chance to organize and share those thoughts—messy, half-formed, or fully realized—on your own terms.

    And the beauty is in the process as much as the product. A blog isn’t constrained by deadlines or word counts. It’s your space, and that kind of freedom brings a remarkable sense of satisfaction. The rules of journalism don’t apply here, not in the same way, and there’s a refreshing informality about it. You can write about whatever interests you, in your own voice, and to an audience that is either wide and global or a handful of close readers.

    But it’s also about connection. Even though you’re writing from a solitary place, the real joy of blogging often emerges from the responses it provokes. A well-crafted post can spark a conversation in the comments section or spread across social media, finding resonance with people you’ll likely never meet. It’s that mix of introspection and outreach that makes blogging a uniquely fulfilling endeavor.

    In the end, blogging is about sharing your inner world, not with the aim of seeking approval, but with the simple hope that someone, somewhere, might understand. And that, to me, is the quiet joy of it all.

    (This blog was an experiment with the free version of ChatGPT. The prompt that I used was “write a 350 word blog about the joy of blogging in the style of Roger Ebert,” and this was the result. I had tried several different prompts with ChatGPT on the subject of blogging, and for this response the most interesting, though I didn’t think it sounded much like Roger Ebert.)

  • Short Story Review: “Hi Daddy” by Matthew Klam

    (The short story “Hi Daddy” by Matthew Klam appeared in the October 14th, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photograph by Ryan Lowry for The New Yorker

    As I get older, I have this dualistic thought in my head when I think of my parents; How much I am like them, and how much I am not like them. This dualism can cause great joy, and unbelievable anxiety in me. I also know as a middle-aged man, that the more things change, the more they stay the same. With Matthew Klam’s story “Hi Daddy,” a well-intended but uneven work, he attempts to address these issues.

    Here’s my way to simple synopsis: Middle aged man says goodbye to his teenage daughter as she goes off to Europe for the summer before she starts college, and then he visits his elderly parents, realizing that he is more like his father than he wants to admit.

    Emotionally, I dug this story, and identified strongly with the narrator. There was an honesty in the narrator, that sometimes got very close to self-pity and whining, but Klam was able to pull it back in time. The narrator, in his family, has the role of primary care giver, as his wife has the job that earns the majority of their living. This role has left the narrator feeling taken for granted and left out, though his wife does point out that he is the cause of this situation, as he can be emotionally unavailable, especially to their daughter. Part of his issue stems from having trouble dealing with his daughter leaving home, and the changes that it will bring. When he visits his parents, his father has fallen and has dementia. The dementia means the father no longer recognizes the son, and the fall means that the once stoic and distant father has become feeble and dependent. Again, the theme of change, and the act of dealing with change, gives the story a weight here, and the narrator’s inability to know how to deal with these situations and emotions has a melancholic honesty to it.

    Yet, I had issues with this story, and they were all technical storytelling issues. When I finished the piece, I was left feeling unsatisfied, and that was due to none of the story threads felt wrapped up. Many emotional tangents are cast about in this story, but they don’t come back or lead to a resolution. The narrator says that he doesn’t like his parents, but the issues are with his father, so why is the mother put in the same bucket with the father? When the narrator realizes that he is becoming like his father, will that influence future actions of the narrator?

    That last one was the kicker for me, for that was the driver for the unsatisfying feeling the story created in me.

    If this is a normal “Hero’s Journey” story, then the narrator’s realization that he is like his father would then influence an action in the climax of the story, therefore allowing the hero to defeat the obstacle and view the world in a different way. The best that I can tell, the hero’s obstacle is himself, the climax has to do with the horse getting free (horse also metaphor for father/son,) yet the narrator’s actions in dealing with the horse are not influenced by his realization. If this is a normal “Rising Action, Climax, Resolution” story, then I’m not sure what to make out of the last two sections as a resolution; the thoughts the narrator has about his daughter’s choice in boyfriends and her actions towards them, and final section which is a “Dead Chick in the Basket*” cliché. That left me to believe that this whole exercise was just a meditation on the narrator dealing with a rough two days, and the narrator is the same person at the start of the story as he is at the end of the story. And if that is true, the narrator doesn’t change, then why are we being told this story?

    I will say this, “Hi Daddy” has some very fine points, and some crisp, honesty imagery and writing. Matthew Klam is writing about a character who is flawed, which is just ripe for storytelling. And it almost gets there. He just didn’t stick the landing.

    *  “Dead Chick in the Basket” refers to a 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.”

  • ODDS and ENDS: That’s Some Good Sentencing, Rewatching Baking Show, and Red Pants

    (I think I’m starting to peak now, Al…)

    Do you know who Tina Peters is? Long story short, she was a MAGA county clerk in Colorado who help a person break into Dominion voting machines after the 2020 election. She has been unrepentant in her actions, has even become a semi-celebrity in ultra-conservative conspiracy circles. Well, she got put on trial for the crime of breaking into voting machines, was found guilty in August, and was sentenced the other day. Below is the video of the judge sentencing her, and also laying out a very good case of why these conspiracies and the people who propagate them are extremely dangerous to our democracy.

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    So, the new season of Great British Baking Show started last week, and I may or may not write more about this season. Or I may wait until it’s all over with to write about it, or I might not write about it at all. Either way, for me and the wife, the lead up to the new season means that we go through and watch the past seasons. Funny the things we remember and the things we forget. The one thing that I remember and never changes is that Sandi Toksvig was the best host of that show, hands down and unquestioned. But the things we forget, like who won, and who made it to the finals, we very often misremember (is that a word?) those details. I would have to say that I am 50% when it comes to remembering who won a season, or who got voted out on a certain episode. But I will never forget the awful mispronunciation of the word “taco.” Paul kept calling it a “Tack-oh.”

    I now have a pair of pants whose color name is “Nantucket Red.” (I am aware that Nantucket Red is a specific type of pant from Murray’s Toggery Shop in Nantucket, and what I am referring to is a pair of red pants I got in a thrift shop a month ago, but the tag called the pant color by that name.) I like the pants because they fit well, and go with several shirts that I own. Yes, there is a WASP-ness to the pants, which I feel I pull off ironicy. But at the end of the day, they are a pair of red pants, which can feel like a bold step for a person as modest as me. The only other guy I knew who proudly had a pair of red pants was the comedian/improv performer down in the Lower East Side. He was funny enough for a guy who was 22, right out of college, and trying to make their way in NYC. And his thing was the red pants. He always had the red pants on, and would tell people he always wore these red pants. I took it to mean that he wore the pants when he was out performing, like a costume. No, his girlfriend confirmed that he wore the pants all the time. He even wore them in the shower to “wash” them, she said. I still think it was a bit.

  • Short Story Review: “Ambrose” by Allegra Goodman

    (The short story “Ambrose” by Allegra Goodman appeared in the September 30th, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photograph by Annie Collinge for The New Yorker

    I’m paraphrasing this, but John Lennon said the best way to become a good song writer, is that you first have to write a lot of bad songs. I think that applies to any artist; to make good art, you have to make a whole lot of bad art first. That doesn’t mean that the bad art only serves the purpose of getting the artist to their good art. No, bad art can help in so many ways. That was one of the thoughts that went through my head while reading “Ambrose” by Allegra Goodman’s effectively touching story.

    Here’s a way too short synopsis: Lily is a sixth grader who is writing a story, about the Princess Ambrose, while also dealing with the difficulties of her parent’s divorce. Elements of Lily’s life work their way into the world of Princess Ambrose.

    What Goodman’s story just smashes are the little details. The way Lily decorates her notebook that contains the story, her parents concern, the words and phrases used by grownups talking about kids, and the way Lily sees her parents sitting together when they haven’t in a long time. I appreciated how Goodman approached Lily’s struggles by never belittling them, and though the school might have over reacted, the adults in Lily’s life take her seriously. But my favorite aspect was that Lily’s story wasn’t particularly good, in regard to originality or grammar. Lily creating a “good story” really isn’t the point so much as Lily discovering, maybe subconsciously, that the issues of her life can be expressed and dealt with in the art she is creating. I felt that was a very honest and authentic way to dramatize the creation of this writer, showing us how important it is that she writes this story, even though it isn’t very good. I think lesser writers would have made Lily’s story epic, and original and well written… and that would have missed the point.

    My only criticism of the story is the ending. Not the climax, which was handled very well. No, I’m talking about the last nine paragraphs. After giving us a nice honest moment between Lily and her mother, the final scene is in Lily’s dance class with an odd fitting “deus ex machina” of a substitute dance teacher. This felt tagged on, as if to give Lily a win in the story, or to end on a button. I found it distracting because the story was taking us to a place where Lily, and her parents, are all learning that this life together will be difficult, but they will face it as a family. Just didn’t sit right with me.

    That’s not to say that I’m not recommending this story. “Ambrose” is sweet, and moves with an airy confidence that is charming. Goodman makes Lily a very interesting, and intelligent kid who is going through a time in her life which makes everything a challenge. This isn’t life and death drama, but Goodman shows how impactful moments in a six grader’s life can be.

  • Short Story Review: “Autobahn” by Hugo Hamilton

    (The short story “Autobahn” by Hugo Hamilton appeared in the September 23rd, 2024 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Christoph Niemann

    Funny how a situation, a moment that you are experiencing, can unlock a memory that even sometimes has nothing to do with what you are doing. Walking into my kid’s school the other day, I started to remember being at my grandmother’s house, and how it would smell when she was making apple dumplings. Interesting, how moments in our lives can be keys to the past. Hugo Hamilton’s “Autobahn” plays around with that idea, but in a more dramatic fashion.

    Here’s a super simple description of the story: The narrator, an Irish hitchhiker in Germany, is questioned at gun point by a police officer along the Autobahn, and while being held there, the narrator begins to remember his father.

    This is a very short story, and though it isn’t a flash piece, it had that quality to it. Also, this story did remind me of a song, perhaps because there were two “melodies” happening with the piece; the cop story line, and the father story line. (And then it could be that the story ends mentioning a Doors’ song.) I found that Hamilton did a good job switching between these two narratives, like jumping from the chorus to the bridge, and then back again. Both story lines had the threat of violence to them, which created tension needed to keep the story dramatic, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that the narrator was never really in danger.

    What I found most interesting about “Autobahn” were two bits; one was the theme, and the other was the climax. I liked how Hamilton laid out the difficult and conflicting the relationship was between the narrator and his father. How the father could be abusive toward his son, but also encourage his son’s talents, and how circling that square is a never-ending challenge which ends up making memories of the father always close to the surface. Then there was the climax, where the narrator describes a moment when he saw his father at a newsstand, but his father didn’t see him. It was drawn well, and had a lasting but fleeting feeling to it.

    I liked this story, though it did feel light. Like, the story wanted to go to a third gear, so the speak, but pulled back in the last section. Over all, Hugo Hamilton created a very specific emotional moment, that I could relate to, as sometimes you can’t stop a memory from coming up.