March 5th, 2011
Ballynihinch Castle, Recess, Ireland. 2009.
To get to Ireland from the West Coast, I took a short cut through Calgary, Canada and had a stop-over in Heathrow which brought me into the yellowing or grey intestinal corridors of customs, which duly digests the line into single-file travellers with appropriate documentation.
In December of 2009, Ireland experienced the worst flooding in decades. My best friend since 5th grade and I flew into Dublin just as it was starting. The flooding chased us towards Galway, swallowing most of the grounds outside our hotel in Athlone. We spent each morning strategizing on where to go next based on the . . . → Read More: Castling Through Connemara
February 27th, 2011
Gokoku Shrine Wedding, Nagoya, Japan. 2008.
Gokoku Shrine entry gates have branches and cut paper to ward off evil spirits. To pray at the shrine, you must step up, bow twice, throw a coin into the donation box, clap twice, put your hands together in prayer, make your prayer, and bow twice. Two weddings and several babies were carried to the Shrine on this auspicious day.
Then I had the worst soft drink I’ve ever tasted at Nagoya Castle. Sweat and green tea and unwashed dishes. I can’t even describe it. The castle’s mixture of old and new architecture made it feel like we were visiting a . . . → Read More: Adjusting to Asia
February 21st, 2011
Reading and rereading is critical for editing. Rhythm, patterns, and craft weakness become apparent. Characters become acquaintances rather than an amalgam of intent.
I always reread to the section where I am actively writing, making minor changes to dialogue, description, and action on my way. This generally occurs after wholesale rearrangement of paragraphs and sections, when the bones of the story are in place.
At some point writing becomes editing, and the characters become independent.
A writer can choose to kick-start life at any targeted age, so it’s not like revisions can be calibrated like dog years to yield a certain hoped for maturity; however, the writer is essentially . . . → Read More: Raising Characters to Write Your Story
February 12th, 2011
Abdali Bus Station, Amman, Jordan. 2000.
In this special Valentine’s Day edition of the Saturday Section, I wanted to salute the men of Jordan who made public transportation so interesting for a young foreign woman such as myself.
In 2000, I had a dozen Valentine’s Day roses from a special someone stuffed in a shopping bag as I walked to the Abdali bus station to return to Al Mafraq. I asked to be dropped off around the corner to avoid looking trampy while getting out of the car since we were clearly unrelated and unaccompanied. Perhaps a bit over-the-top, but one cannot be too careful . . . → Read More: Ya Shabab!
February 5th, 2011
I-10, Arizona, 2003.
Roadtrips through the desert are intense. This trip was from Santa Fe, NM to Tucson, AZ to Los Angeles, CA.
I always think the tires are going to melt if I drive through the Mojave Desert during the day, and I hate air-conditioning.
Gas stations arrive with mixed emotions. They exist to be abandoned, but they remind us that we are not completely independent while on the road. Water, candy, salty snacks. Never enough napkins. You step out of the car and realize what it feels like to wear your skin because it’s clinging to you like a wet swimsuit.
First . . . → Read More: Sunburnt Arm
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Writer Loop Official Photographer Jenny Hoover currently lives in Bellingham, WA.
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