Author: dorothyhagan

If God Gives You an Eagle, Don’t Treat It Like a Chicken: Will Smith, Sr.

/ dorothyhagan / 3 Comments

When asked about allowing his young son, Will Smith, to forgo a scholarship to MIT, instead to try his hand in the risky business of entertainment, Will Smith, Sr. replied with the words above. The father knew what the son didn’t: that every one of us are infused with innate skills, unique gifts that are ours to use or to squander.

How many clichés’ are there to say this? Don’t hide your light under a bushel. Don’t look back. Grab the world by the throat and swing. Dance like nobody’s watching. YOLO, for crying out loud.

Lately I have learned you can run but you can’t hide. There. I clichéd again.

Let me just say that if you refuse to accept and use your clearly bequeathed gifts, the God-handed talents smashed onto your face with the force of the Universe, if at every turn you run from your Eaglehood and cling to your Chickenhood, well, the end of it is predictable. And know this: there is not enough religion, enough yoga, enough mind massages, enough sex, therapy or galleons of alcohol to dampen the sharp spears of regret of what you tossed and lost.

In my come-and-go capacities as a teacher, I have prognosticated ad nauseam the adage to Never give up! Stay the course! Embody tenacity! But alas, who has failed to heed her own counsel? That would be me: Chicken Hagan.

The decade-by-decade details of failure are too debilitating to list. I now look in dismay at the others who were budding young writers such as myself in the 1990’s. I don’t even have the courage to write their names. And the main difference between me and my published and careered peers? They didn’t give up. They didn’t collapse into Whinedom and lament the State of the Industry. (Okay, many of them likely whined, and did lament the state of the industry, but they kept plodding forward, nonetheless.)

Let’s be honest. I buckled. I caved. I BS’d my way straight out of a writing career. I stoically claimed to put my family first. I bragged about my non-existent ego which did NOT need to be validated by Random House. I DID crochet effing afghans and organize church bazaars, Steven-effing-King. I did become a reluctant, accidental teacher because my kids’ school had staffing problems. I did absolutely anything to avoid facing and embracing my God-given gifts as a writer. And now I drink from the foul-tasting chalice of regret. (I didn’t coin that. Not sure and don’t give two shits who did.)

Living in your Chickenhood will find you standing in a pile of chicken crap. Which will end on one crappy day when, so desperate for employment validation, you find yourself face-to-face with a former student who thinks you are brilliant, because she TOOK your advice and used her talents, as you stand there working on a temp job getting paid less than you did when you were twenty.

Do I have enough gumption to get up and go again? I am not sure. But with whatever fight there is left in me, I offer this advice that I blatantly steal from Will Smith’s very wise dad: if God gives you an eagle, don’t treat it like a chicken. It is well-nigh impossible to get your feet back out of chicken crap.

Please, no pity comments. Don’t cry for me, Argentina. YOLO, bitches.

Souls on the Way

/ dorothyhagan / 1 Comment

Souls on the Way

The insistent wind cleanses our branches
as it picks up the spirits of the living and the gone.

The spent leaves that have obliged their time
go fluttering toward the earth from whence they erupted.

But not before they take one final flight
spinning, tumbling, sailing, falling
in the capricious dance of life.

Now their supple green skins are crisp and brown.
They have fulfilled their season
and are given to let go.

Oh, heaven! Open wide your portal for the new class to enter!
Welcome the tormented! Give asylum to the souls aloft!

And for us still standing with our face to the wind,
grant us your peace
‘til our own journey begins.
When we hop on a leaf,
and join the others.

A Plug of One’s Own

/ dorothyhagan / Leave a comment

While slurping my morning coffee, to my utter astonishment, I opened an email from Amazon asking me to give 1-5 stars for a list of books which somehow included both of my own. They’re kidding, right? Taking the bait, I proceeded to blow the daylights out of my own legendary horn.

And may I just say, that in addition to writing darn fine novels, I can toss off two quite excellent reviews as well? There is every reason to believe Amazon will never allow them to see the light of day, as authors aren’t really allowed to review their own work, but hey, if offered a plug of one’s own, (thanking you, Virginia Wolff) who would resist?

First of all, to a degree that is professionally intoxicating, my books have been mentioned in the same breath with writers such as Eudora Welty, Willa Cather, Fannie Flagg, Billie Letts, Mary Karr, Mollie Ivins and Erma Bombeck. To a degree this list is proof-positive that my work won’t fit into any known genre, well, it is also likely why I’ll never retire from my literary earnings. But that’s okay. Don’t vex me with genre. Pshsf…categories…who needs them?

So here are my reviews, my own plugs, if you will.

Regarding The Edge of the Grace Period,  2000, this is a raucous and poignant story about people living on the edge of everything: the edge of family function, the edge of forever friendships (and some not), the brink of industrial, southern sensibilities, the fringes of faith, the tipping edge of bravery to grab Life by the throat and swing…it was this first book that elicited the above author comparisons.

Regarding The Offshore Triumphs of Karla Jean, 2012, I spent seven years researching the offshore world (among other things) for this book. At the end of The Edge of the Grace Period, a story mostly about Darlene and her best friend, Karla…Karla goes off to work offshore. From that very moment I wanted to know how that happened and how that went. (I am personally a former merchant mariner; I went to sea in 1978 as one of about six total females sailing in the world.) Every last one of us gas up our cars easy as you please, without a second thought, never wondering how that sweet fuel gets from a hole in the ocean to our corner store. This is just one person’s story about who goes and fetches that fuel for us. It’s a unique story, from a unique perspective and that is seriously understating things.

Karla is a tall, skinny, gutsy, verbally-unfiltered 20-year-old who goes to work as a roustabout in 1980. (For the life of me, I always picture Sandra Bullock or Sara Gilbert.) She is hit with an onslaught of “you don’t belong here-isms” in what was and still remains an almost exclusively man’s world. She is a victim to every prank of the trade but after 26 years ends up as the boss. After hundreds of helicopter rides to rigs large and small, she is on her final trip home to begin a second career, one that is entirely out of her character. But on this last trip her helicopter goes down, and she is missing in the Gulf of Mexico. Her family and friends are gathered for a gigantic Welcome Home party; instead they await her fate.

Karla (Karla Jean to Dooley Wade, her whacked-out Vietnam chopper pilot and constant thorn) hasn’t cut her hair since childhood. Why not? She sports a braid so long is can double as a weapon. Find out how Karla gets pregnant, even though she is allergic to children, and it’s all her husband’s fault. So many twists and turns…and finally, find out what this new career is, because you won’t see it coming in a month of Sundays. Then there’s the whole “Is she dead or alive?” thing going also.

Don’t take my word for it. Go to Amazon (or Barnes & Noble) and read the reviews for yourself. I am happy to report there are more than just mine, which probably won’t show up anyway. Read them, enjoy them, share them.

And thanks for reading this…I not-so-humbly submit…a Plug of One’s Own.

Sushi in Two Bites? Please Don’t Judge, Stephen

/ dorothyhagan / 1 Comment

Stephen-King

This post from 2013 popped up in my Facebook memories today. I thought I would re-post to further explain my continued lack of literary fame and acclaim. And I will always grab an opportunity to plug one of the best writers in the History of Time. It is an honor to explain myself to Stephen King.

Not long ago, while sharing some sushi rolls with my eldest daughter, I sliced one in half and consumed the bite.
“You can’t do that,” said the Daughter.
“Sure I can, ” says I.
“Mom…you’re already not using chopsticks, how weird do you want to be?”

I sighed and felt compelled to explain.

“But I like the smaller bites. They fit my mouth better, and besides, that way I get to enjoy every single ingredient’s flavor. And use more ginger. And it lasts twice as long.”

Satisfied with my complete and logical reply, I get the look that says I love you and all, but that’s just not how it’s done.

I guess I have approached my writing life the same way. I go at it in small chunks, clearly on a much smaller scale than is customary. Stephen King, an author whom I adore, (though I’ve not read one single book except his On Writing: A Memoir on the Craft,) comments below. I read these words first in 2001, and they haunt me still. (See Steve, you haunt me in spite of myself. I am a colossal sissy when it comes to the horror genre. Two or three times I have turned one guarded eye toward your movies, yanked in against my will. As I am now in my fifth decade, I may be able to toss my sissified trepidation aside and tippy-toe into your written world. But no promises.)

From On Writing: A Memoir on the Craft, while discussing novelists who only write a very limited number of books, the words of Stephen King:

On the other hand–the James Joyce hand–there is Harper Lee, who wrote only one book (the brilliant To Kill a Mockingbird). Any number of others, including James Agee, Malcolm Lowery, and Thomas Harris (so far), wrote under five. Which is okay, but I always wonder two things about these folks: how long did it take to write the books they did write, and what did they do the rest of their time? Knit afghans? Organize church bazaars? Deify plums? I’m probably being snotty here, but I am also, believe me, honestly curious. If God gives you something you can do, why in God’s name wouldn’t you do it?

Well, Steve, since you asked, with the exception of deifying plums, yes, I was doing all of the above. I would not think of boring you or anyone else with a list of life’s humdrum activities. But since I began writing in 1996 to the present day, I am, without reservation, eating my storybook plate of sushi in two bites, maybe even three or more. My world is full of durable afghans, well-organized bazaars, and I chase people down to pick and haul the fruit from the trees in my yard. In my defense, I am at least a two-book wonder, and that may not entirely be the last of my creative contributions.

So I suppose along with my sushi, I am consuming my literary capabilities in small, tasty bites as well. And yes, that violation of protocol does render me weird in the eyes of many. But I am savoring each bite, and leaving on the plate what I mean to leave.

To each his own, screamed someone. Probably while bleeding…in one of Stephen King’s magnificent books.

Dorothy Hagan is the author of The Offshore Triumphs of Karla Jean, not one bit scary but clever and funny as hell. She has super-duper (thanks again, Steve) reviews on Amazon. Read them. She also published a companion novel, The Edge of the Grace Period, 2000, that folks spoke of in the same breath with Willa Cather, Eudora Welty, Mary Karr and Molly Ivins. Seriously. She’s not making that up.

B is for Buy This Book

/ dorothyhagan / Leave a comment

Okay, with all due respect to Sue Grafton and her enormously clever list of titles, it seems that since mentioning her in a post, I have had an awesome increase in traffic, well-deserved or not. So…thank you, Ms. Grafton, for your skirt tails and titles for which to grab a hold. That said, behold…a shameless self-promotion.

The Offshore Triumphs of Karla Jean is a rollicking good read, with tales of feminism, addiction, religion, goofy families, awesome friends and an ending so fun and unexpected you will be smiling for a week. So, please, do me and yourself a favor and Buy This Book!

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=the+offshore+triumphs+of+karla+jean&x=0&y=0

Happy summer, amigos…

A is for Apology

/ dorothyhagan / Leave a comment

Being a fan of fairness and civility, I wanted to share that Sue Grafton (her very own self) alerted me to the knowledge that she had in fact offered an apology to the indie publishing community, following some not-very-well received comments some time ago. She didn’t have to do this, and I appreciate that she did.

That said, I remain frustrated with the hordes of others (still waiting for your contact, Mr. Green) who just don’t seem to get that Art is Art…Stories are Stories…and One Man’s Drivel Is Another Man’s Peach. That Peach may fall straight from the tree, sit all by itself and rot in obscurity. Or the lucky thing may be picked up by Dole Company and end up swimming in syrupy goodness on your table. It’s a Peach either way. So please don’t judge that Peach unless you have had a look at it, a discernible sniff and maybe even an unbiased bite.

Not to belabor the point, but the following bears repeating. Dismiss the following self-published authors, if you professionally dare: Gertrude Stein, Walt Whitman, Virginia Wolff, Beatrix Potter, Edgar Allen Poe, Rudyard Kipling, Henry David Thoreau, Anais Nin, Deepak Chopra, Bernard Shaw, James Joyce, Zane Grey, William E. B. DuBois, Strunk and White, E.L James, et al. I personally cannot imagine my literary life without them. They cared enough to share their work; they said Yes when others told them No. Good for them. Good for us.

If you are sitting in a well-marketed can of Peaches, jolly good for you. You have my sincerest good wishes and congratulations. But to those of us still struggling to get noticed, lying on the ground in either the sun or the weeds, let’s aim for some mutual respect, and hope that we can all fall into a vat of Peach cobbler. If you know someone with some ice cream, by all means, ask them to bring it.

Dorothy Hagan is the indie-published author of The Offshore Triumphs of Karla Jean, (2012) seven years in research, writing and publication. (This book is actually a heck of a Peach, and has great Amazon reviews to prove it. Unusual story about a young woman in the offshore world of men. Have a bite. It’s tasty.) Another deliciously published Hagan Peach is The Edge of the Grace Period. This did in fact fall from the same tree, being a companion novel.

Sue Grafton: H is for Hubris

/ dorothyhagan / 2 Comments

The indie-published crowd is in a deservedly righteous dither after Sue Grafton and John Green tossed the lot of us into the “isolated” and “lazy” slush heap of artists. This author will not even validate their positions with a rebuttal. My only response would be the following: Gertrude Stein, Walt Whitman, Virginia Wolff, Beatrix Potter, Edgar Allen Poe, Rudyard Kipling, Henry David Thoreau, Anais Nin, Deepak Chopra, Bernard Shaw, James Joyce, Zane Grey, William E. B. DuBois, Strunk and White, E.L James …self-published…every one. I could keep going but my indie-published, short-cutting fingers are tired. If this is the “lazy” and “isolated” conglomeration of authors of whom I am a part, well, I humbly accept my position within their indolent midst.

The publishing paradigm has shifted. To those on the “traditional” side, my sincerest good wishes and congratulations. But to those of us with the pluck and mettle, the tenacity and persistence, and the temerity to launch our best efforts into the hallowed realm of publication…kudos to you all, my thick-skinned brethren. Keep your chins up and your pens a’ penning.

Dorothy Hagan is the indie-published author of The Offshore Triumphs of Karla Jean, (2012) seven years in research, writing and publication. (Not a lot of books written about women working in the gritty, offshore world of men. Honest. Go try and find one.) Oh, yeah. And Lazy Hagan also published The Edge of the Grace Period in 2000, POD with IUniverse, before most “traditional” people had even heard of such a thing. Ms. Hagan’s books will never go out of print and will be entirely available when Oprah calls up for the Book Club.

The Secret of Life (And I’m Going to Tell It)

/ dorothyhagan / Leave a comment

To say I learned a lot during my first year of public school teaching (at the tender age of 53), would be a striking understatement. Lessons learned were critical, intense and full-bodied. Some days I felt like I had done everything just short of cartwheels out the door to get my students to listen to me… about what things are important and lasting, and those that are useless (and often dangerous) diversions.

I learned a lot of lessons. But the one that is by far the most important, the most far-reaching, the unquestionably most effective, truth beyond truth, is this: Never quit caring. EVER. Never quit caring about your kids, never quit caring about your teachers, never quit caring about your relationships, never quit caring about your subjects…NEVER QUIT CARING.  Ceasing to care, ceasing to, as I say to my kids “give a rat’s pair of whiskers” is the one and only real way to fail.

Some days my students and I fought tooth and nail. We loved and hated each other, often feeling stuck, like families, in a forced symbiosis. But what we found was life-altering. If we hung in there, both myself and my students, if we hung in there and kept caring…about what it was we wanted and needed…that skin in the game led to success every time. Maybe not a 4.0 or a Teacher of the Year (or even Of the Minute), but success was ours as long as we cared to keep searching for it.

Kids know when you care. And teachers know when you care. And friends and family know when you care. Never quit caring about who and what is important to you. And that is, most assuredly, the Secret of Life.

 

 

Always Infinity: Does That Mean It Will Suck Forever?

/ dorothyhagan / 1 Comment

As my teaching year swirls to a close, a long-forgotten voice reminds me that I have in fact recently published my second novel, The Offshore Triumphs of Karla Jean, a fun, adventuresome companion book joining The Edge of the Grace Period. With this recollection comes the additional reminder…that I am perhaps the world’s suckiest marketeer. I just can’t seem to do more than one thing at a time. To prove it, I’ve just gone an entire school year where I shared with not one colleague my status as Double-Published Authoress. Sadly, I am woefully behind as a carnival barker for my own literary prowess.

But alas, just like the sanitary napkin Always Infinity, this persistent circumstance cannot in actuality continue to suck forever. Shortly, I shall embark on Marketing Campaign Number 674 (or so it feels) and attempt to share my stories with a much broader audience. I may even dust off my keyboard and write some more.

So to the interwebs, Oprah Winfrey, Cameron Crowe, Sandra Bullock, Abby Hagan, et al…you are all hereby on notice that you shall be the focus of the systemic pesterization of a writer in the mood to hock her literary wares in your directions. Here’s hocking at you, kids…

To my faithful readers, perhaps it’s a good time to suggest a great book to your friends for summer reading. Two by Dorothy Hagan come to mind…

And don’t forget this awesome book trailer…created by Abby Hagan:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b-mNScWy_xU