Dust Jacket Dispatch

Hey Friends,

Grant here. 

I haven’t done this sort of thing in a while, but the timing seemed right.  A friend of mine runs a blog on economic philosophy, theory, etc.  And not too long ago, he received an article from a disgruntled American who felt that the education system had failed him in learning how to be prepared to enter (and I loathe this phrase) “the real world.”  You can find his article here.  I wrote a response, because I’m not exactly a fan of teacher bashing.  As an English teacher, I had a few choice points to make.  My article is also full of additional research and supplemental reading that will make you both happy and sad.

A Writer’s Manifesto

You are a writer. At first, it was your early fascination with everything bright and colorful. You lived for the sunlight. There was song and there was flight and there was shine. And then you found out that the night had its wonders, too. Silver moons, distant stars. A different cast of characters.

You wrote something once. You made someone who didn’t exist before you dreamed of him, of her, of it. Maybe you didn’t realize the significance of such an action at the time, but you breathed life into the void and it took hold. Even if it was only a taste, it was a taste of magic, and we all know how those stories progress.

You were, for a while, entranced by screens and buttons. They were bright and colorful, too. Best of all, they told tales. Rescues, romance, hunger, goodness, greed. You got used to saving the day. Or the girl. Or the world. Or yourself. You became acquainted with failure and, by turn, persistence.

You bought a book in middle school. You still remember what was on the cover. You opened it and your brain unfolded like a paper map.

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With Skyfall dropping next Friday and Daniel Craig’s last two contracted 007 movies  having been slated for release within the next three years, a giant void is getting ready to open up in Hollywood. Everyone is asking, Who will be the next James Bond?

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Write Some Words

—Written by Grant Goodman

November is a crazy month. We vote. We mess with our clocks. We celebrate stealing land from natives by eating way too much food. But we also have the chance to do a ton of writing. It’s National Novel Writing Month and tomorrow is day one.

If you have no idea what I’m talking about, don’t worry. (Or, as Daniel Tosh once said, “I’ll feed you, baby birds.”) A while ago, a pack of crazies decided to turn November into a literary challenge. The goal? Write 50,000 words in 30 days. That 1667 words per day. Every day.

When I was in college, NaNoWriMo was a way to learn the basics of novel writing. They consist of the following: telling yourself that you suck, wondering how many words make up one page of a paperback, telling yourself that no one could possibly write that many words a day, forcing yourself to realize that your initial draft of anything needs countless revisions, slacking, reading other books while knowing that you should be writing instead, and realizing that you can’t only write when you’re “feeling inspired.”

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Cause and Effect

—Written by Grant Goodman

Six years ago, this day—Columbus Day—marked the first day of my teaching career.

After wrapping up a summer semester to pass my last required courses, I was convinced that I wouldn’t be able to land a teaching job for a long time, since all of the hiring seemed to have been done back in May and June. I spent four weeks waking up and writing every day, aiming to finish my first novel by the end of September. I never did finish that novel. During the last week of September, I got a quick call from the department of human resources and found myself interviewing for a teaching position two days later. That marked one hell of a turning point.

Since then, I’ve learned about 495 traffic and road rage. I’ve learned how to keep large groups of kids laughing and learning. I’ve learned that you’re never too old to enjoy someone reading a story to you.

After jumping from high school to middle school, I rekindled my love for YA literature. I spent a little more than a year writing for Manga Recon, one of the web’s best sources of manga-related journalism. (Right now, that title belongs to Manga Recon alum’s Melinda Beasi and her site, Manga Bookshelf.) Book review writing, in turn, got me back into National Novel Writing Month. All of my fiction writing led me to jump back into journalism when Jared brought up the idea of starting a blog.

Since then, there have been nearly 20,000 visitors to the site, encompassing all fifty states and half of Europe. I’ve been in touch with record labels, authors, graphic novelists, bands, and restaurant representatives. It’s been pretty damn cool, to say the least.

I wanted to say “thank you” for everyone who reads these articles. The fact that you’re out there continues to amaze me.

Autocorrect This Whit You Tucking Dint

I’ve never really owned a true smart phone or tablet or what have you. For my trip I got a Kindle Fire (because tuck Steve jobs, that’s why). I like it except for this stupid mother tucking autocorrect feature that turns my whey vulgar word into some Battlestar Galactica euphemism. So here’s my autocorrected take on the feature.

Tuck! This stupid goddamned hitch did it again. I type in tots and it gives me tots. I don’t want tots. I want biff heaping mounds of fleshy tots.

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Hey Friends,

Today marks the last day of school and the first day of summer vacation.  I’m going to write a short article that goes a little something like this:

I don’t have to worry about setting an alarm.

I can cook breakfast every morning.

I can go to sleep at 3 AM on a weeknight without consequence.

I can write a short article like this because it’s the first day of summer.

—Written by Grant Goodman

Memorial Day 2012

I could go ahead and re-post my Memorial Day article from last year. But it’s been a year and I have something new to write about.

We’ve forgotten the value of our soldiers. Plain and simple. We’ve lost the thread.

For the most part, I think it’s because our past decade of war has left us largely without sacrifice. Yes, we did funnel a ton of spending into keeping the war machine running. Maybe that’s the reason why public universities have seen their tuition fees leaping higher and higher, police and fire fighting forces are being slashed left and right, and teachers are seeing larger classroom sizes. Let’s look at what we’ve really lost, though, compared to previous generations.

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The United States of Space

Remember when the United States was so keen on science that it altered its basic educational approaches in order to send more students into the fields of aerospace and engineering? Remember when we were the pinnacle of scientific discovery? I don’t. I don’t, because I wasn’t alive then. I missed out on the space race (and, thankfully, the impending fear of a Russian-induced nuclear holocaust). What I got, instead, is a time period in which space exploration is an afterthought.

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Grant’s Guide to Wine Tasting

I’ve learned a few things about wine these past few days. Running through Napa Valley was an eye opening experience, especially considering that my background is in beer. There’s a ton of vocabulary to learn and mannerisms to display. In order to help you out, I’d like to offer you my guide to the wine tasting experience.

First, you’re going to be on a perfectly manicured estate with fountains, vines, and courtyards. It is appropriate to remark to your wine guide about how long it took you to mow your own lawn last weekend. You should also ask if it would be okay to let your dog onto the grass.

You should probably wear flip-flops, to allow your toes to breathe properly, just like the wine does. A white shirt is always good, because it is considered a compliment to pour some wine directly onto your shirt.

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I Miss George Carlin

Even though his later comedy specials were more angry ranting than actual comedy, I still love the man. George Carlin was a brilliant mind who could move from dissecting the English language one minute to talking about his pet getting neutered the next and make it work. He also had the ability to use his words like a knife to cut through all sorts of political and religious nonsense in order to prove a pretty uniform point: the human race is really good at being awful to its own kind. While guys like Jon Stewart, Steven Colbert, and Bill Maher are doing some great work, the absence of Carlin’s voice is still more than notable.

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I Am A Fan. You Were A Fan.

My title is also my opening: I am a fan. You were a fan.

There’s a difference. That’s what I’m here to explain.

Maybe it’s my longtime love for Glen Phillips’ music and maybe, just maybe, this article was spurred on by my recent experience at the Jack’s Mannequin concert a few weeks back. I’m a little tired of people who claim to be fans, but never seem to know any part of a musician’s catalog outside of their big hits. You see (and, more often than not, hear the screams of) these so-called fans at every show. They wedge themselves right into the crowd after showing up 20 minutes late. Generally, they pick a place that’s not really in existence, because in order to park their bodies, they have to shove someone to the side. And then, that’s when the show starts.

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A First World Problem at Wendy’s

The lady behind the cash register looked distressed when she had to break the news to me. In fact, she opened her mouth to say something and at first nothing came out. But then she found her voice and uttered: “I have to warn you, it will take five minutes before we have any more chicken nuggets.”

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Who the Hell is Philip Levine?

For those of you who just looked him up, I’m going to tell you that I’m not doing poetry analysis.  This is about song lyrics. So get that cursor off of the “New Tab” button and bring your eyes back here.

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Occupy Thanksgiving

Ladies and gentlemen, there is a threat that has gone ignored for far too long.  A threat of the most grave variety, one that—if left unchecked—could destroy the very fabric that this nation pilfered and then built upon.  We silently recognize it, hiding behind the excuse that to challenge such a notion would be a long, harsh struggle.  You know what I’m talking about: despite the fact that all Thanksgiving turkeys have two leg pieces, only 1% of the Thanksgiving guests get to eat one*.

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