Goldfish Dreams

[cathschaffstump]

Lately, I’ve been feeling like Jim Hines’ publicist, which is not a job I want or am particularly well qualified for. My own writing career certainly needs a publicist, so I have to ride that pretty hard. Still, it’s hard not to advocate for a writer you admire when your local convention asks you who should be the guest at their next convention, or when you find their writing, both fiction and non-fiction, engaging and delightful. I’m happy to be the right person in the right place at the right time for so deserving and talented an individual.

Which brings us to this entry. Every fall, about this time in October, my husband Bryon gets stuck in town doing his educational duty, consulting with the parents of his chemistry students. It’s part of the teacher life, and it’s a good part. Teachers and parents working together toward a student’s greater good and advanced knowledge. Just thinking about it makes me all halcyon.

How does this tie into Jim Hines? Wait for it! As the teaching spouse, now a college professor rather than on the front lines, I can occasionally get stuck in town on parents teachers nights. Bryon and I commute in together, and we try not to break that rule too much, even though we have two cars. It’s one of my commitments to being green. Monday I went home because of a variety of errands we missed this weekend. That meant that I was determined to not use two cars Wednesday.

And so, I was in town for an awkwardly long time Wednesday. I had to come into work because the department retreat sucked the marrow out of my Monday work day, but Monday’s work was accomplished quickly. I plowed through argument papers for today’s conferences, talked to a variety of offices, and focused on getting tasks around for my work study. I was finished by 11 am, and then I ran off to do my usual Wednesday/Friday activity of writing.

Still getting to the Jim Hines part. Bear with me. I wrote. I wrote for three hours. I worked on both projects. I turned my brain to writer oatmeal. I took a break and ran errands. Still staring at 3 hours, I wrote even more, and finally, I had about an hour to kill. No creative capacity remained. I wanted to do something meaningful with what intellectual capacity I had left.

The book I’m reading right now is Lament by Maggie Stiefvater. It was at home on my coffee table. I figured that I would have more than enough to keep busy, so it didn’t make it into my bag of tricks. Silly me, I hadn’t counted on being efficient or burning out. That’s when I remembered that I had Goldfish Dreams on my laptop from ebooks, having just purchased it during their sale. I read a hundred pages or so.

Goldfish Dreams is Jim Hines “real” book. You can hear him talk about it from time to time at his journal. It is a collector’s item, a small press book that is rare. I appreciate it that you can get the story through ebooks, and I wanted the story. You see, there’s something you need to know about me, and why I would want to read this particular book. I am an incest survivor. And I want to thank Jim profoundly for taking the time to write a book about an incest survivor.

This could be the point where you turn me off, and soon you can, because I’m going to cut in a moment. Rest assured, this entry is NOT a confessional. Books like Goldfish Dreams give a venue for people to talk about their own similar experiences, and it’s in part why we need books like it. If you’re a victim, and you’ve never talked about your experiences, the model of someone doing so in fiction is a great place to start.

I am keenly aware of how writing the 5 words above color your perceptions of myself, my family, and how we all fit in society. Some of you, in spite of your best efforts, are thinking those thoughts. I am also very aware that I am in no way responsible for the sins of my family, and that I am a victim. You should know that I am the poster child for recovery. I have chosen long ago not to let this misfortune in my life guide my life, as much as I can, and to be there for others who have experienced sexual violence. Unlike Jim, I’ve never been a counselor. I am a teacher and a strong role model for getting on with life, and not living in my victimization. I have been an active participant in The Clothesline Project. And I’m damned handy with our campus counselor phone numbers.

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Originally published at Writer Tamago. You can comment here or there.

Comments

[kizmet-42.livejournal.com]

You are an amazing woman.