Kristin Bair O'Keeffe: Writer. Mom. Teacher. Traveler.

Project Kindle, Post #6 (The FINAL Episode)

This...is...it. 

Do I love my Kindle? Can I read books on my Kindle?

Watch and see.

Travel Tuesday: Writing the Far-Flung Life (Me + New Place = ?)

Okay, all you far-flung writers, need a jumping off point for a new essay? Here goes:

When you:

• are transplanted in a new country
• are launched out of your comfort zone
• are separated from those you love by expansive oceans and thousands of miles
• are incapable of communicating with those around you because you don't speak the language
• spend minutes/hours/days pantomiming even the simplest nouns (and feel like a cross between an intrepid explorer and a complete ass every time you do it)
• struggle to interpret new cultural cues

you inevitably ask the question...

Me + (New Place) = ?

You can't help it. It's human nature. We're driven to define ourselves in relation to our surroundings. Especially those of us who are writers.

The first time I asked myself this question was back in October 2006, about six months after I'd moved from the United States to Shanghai, China. I was back in the U.S. on my first trip home and was feeling completely overwhelmed by the number of choices I faced in the cereal aisle at the grocery store and a number of other things. I wrote about it here (at my old blog).

Since then, I've mulled over this very question again and again...verbally and in my head...but I haven't yet (re-)tackled it on the page. It's time...I feel it coming. The distillation of who I am in China.

And you? Have you tackled this question in your writing?

Me + (New Place) = ?

If not, give it a shot. It has all the makings of a great essay.

If so, what was your answer?

Travel Tuesday: Writing the Far-Flung Life (Shoe Leather Express)

Whenever I asked my mom for a ride when I was growing up and she couldn't (or wouldn't) swing it, I always followed my initial question "Can you take me to _________?" with the inevitable "Well, how am I going to get there?" (often accompanied by a whine and a preteen foot stomp).

To which my mom always gave the same answer: "Shoe leather express" (in other words, start walking).

Back then, that often meant that I walked to my best friend's house via the trolley tracks, the mall via the road that went past our church, and the swimming pool along one of the most commercial streets in our town. Along the way, I learned a lot. I always knew who was getting ready to have a yard sale, where the best wild blackberries grew, and how to avoid the biggest potholes. The long, solitary walks also helped me learn to pay attention...to the little things...to the aspects of a place that helped to tell its story.

So while my mom had no idea that one day I'd be living on the other side of the world writing about my far-flung life and helping others learn how to do the same, her solution to my travel woes--Shoe Leather Express--has become an important part of my writing process.

Whether I land in a new place or a place I've been many times before, I always put on my most favored, mostest comfortable walking shoes (in my case, Keens...those are my "winter" Keens [above] and my "summer" Keens [below]) and start walking.

During my first two years in China, I estimate I walked 1.75 million miles (give or take a few). In Shanghai, I walked on major thoroughfares, down old lanes, and through funky neighborhoods. I walked through the panda reserve in Chengdu, wandered about the Muslim quarter in Xian, and hiked on the Great Wall. Along every step, I paid attention to smells, colors, sounds, and the old woman selling knobs of ginger on the corner. I noted what I saw up close and what I noticed in the distance. I noted facial expressions and gestures. I gathered bits and pieces for the stories I would tell.

Sure, sometimes walking is not the easiest mode of transportation. (In Bali, I ran into so many not-so-friendly dogs, I ended up toting a big stick, and in Vietnam, dodging the scooters is not always fun.) But walking gets you up close and personal to people, food, language--the essence of a place.

So my advice to far-flung writers?

Next time you're deciding how to get from your hotel to a museum or your B&B to the beach, skip the taxi or the shuttle. Take my mom's advice and go for the Shoe Leather Express.

Happy Birthday to You, Happy Birthday to Tully...

So my daughter Tulliver is two years old today. I'd ask where the heck time has gone, but that would sound cliche. (But really, where has time gone?)

Tully's a hoot. A lovely, sparkly, funny, chatty, climbing-like-crazy, creative hoot.

Currently, I'm trying to teach her not to touch other people's nostrils (figured starting with others' nostrils is best; we'll get to her own soon enough). She's now obsessed with the "nostril" game. It goes like this:

"Is this nostril?" she asks, pointing to my forehead.

"I don't know, is it?" I ask in response.

"No!" she shrieks, laughing. "That's forehead!"

"Is this nostril?" she asks, pointing to my ear.

"I don't know, is it?" I ask in response. (Clearly I know my role by now.)

"No!" she shrieks, laughing. "That's ear."

"Is this nostril?" she asks, pointing to my left nostril.

"I don't know, is it?" I ask in response.

"Yes!" she shrieks, laughing. Then she gets a very serious look on her face and says (as she sticks her finger up my nose), "No touch Mumma's nostril."

Oy.

Project Kindle, Post #4 (...Getting Dangerously Close to Love)

Wow...I didn't know I could do THAT with my Kindle!!!! Watch out...I'm dangerously close to falling in love.

Travel Tuesday: Writing the Far-Flung Life (Finding Your Own Chicken Man)

When you're writing about a far-flung life, your job is to get readers to see what you see. Remember, many readers have never been to the place or had the experience you are describing...and many never will. So...lure them in. 

How?

The #1 Way to Lure Readers In...

• Write About The Things That Interest You: Don't worry about trying to figure out what readers want to know. Follow your own heart...your own eye. If you're intrigued, your readers will be intrigued. If you're not intrigued, readers will close your book/article/essay halfway through and not pick it up again. Horror of all horrors.

(Example: If you're traveling in Milan, Italy, you may be captivated by the spires on the Duomo. Lots of folks are. If so, dig in and have at it. But maybe you don't give two hoots about the spires [or anything else] on the Duomo. Maybe you're more intrigued by the wacky folks who like to get the 1.22 million pigeons in the piazza to land on their heads for photo opps or the cranky old woman who sold you a strawberry tart. If that's the case, write about the pigeon people or the cranky old woman. Forget the Duomo and its spires.)

As for me, I'm rarely intrigued by the "big stuff." Sure, Shanghai's Oriental Pearl Tower is cool and interesting, and yup, the World Expo is coming to our fair city in May, but I'm drawn to smaller moments. Like the Chicken Man! He's one of my favorite characters in my neighborhood, and just this morning, my daughter and I ran into him on our street. (Okay, okay, I admit it, we were out looking for him...as we often are.) We were lucky enough to happen upon him just as a customer was picking out his chicken. Check it out.

The Chicken Man on the left. A discerning customer on the right.

"How about this chicken?" says the Chicken Man.

"No, I like this chicken," says customer, taking matters (and a chicken) into his own hands.

"Why does this crazy laowai (me) follow me around Shanghai taking pictures of me?" says the Chicken Man. "She must have thousands of pictures of me now."

And the Chicken Man kills and defeathers the chicken right there and then.

I tell ya what...he's good at it, too. He can kill and defeather a chicken faster than I can pick out a package of drumsticks at the grocery store.

This is the hard part...friends looking on.

Ta-da! Dinner!

WRITERS CHALLENGE: I haven't yet written a formal piece about the Chicken Man, but I know that eventually he will work his way into an essay or memoir. Your challenge this week? Find your own Chicken Man. In whatever place you're writing about, choose a person who intrigues you. Then write about him/her. A paragraph...a page...whatever it takes to see him/her clearly.

Travel Tuesday: Writing the Far-Flung Life (Definitions)

Okay...since I'm going to be yakking with you every Tuesday about how to write about travel and a far-flung life, I figure I better start with a couple of key definitions. That way, all you writers interested in writing about your own far-flung lives will be on the same page with me.

Here goes...

DEFINITIONS

far-flung life

• a life in which you travel to different places on a regular basis (ex: I'm an American. My husband is from Ireland. Our daughter is Vietnamese. We live in Shanghai, China. We get around.)

• a life that jolts you out of your comfort zone

cultural spelunker

• one who arrives in a new country (state, city, etc.), looks around at unfamiliar people & places, smiles, & digs in

• fearless explorer (or perhaps explorer despite fear)

• one who is compelled by odd smells, strange glances, dark alleyways, wacky foods, cultural conundrums, language barriers, & so on

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS (I'm anticipating...)

Q: Do I have to travel out of my home country in order to have a far-flung life?

A: Nope. Everyone's definition of far-flung is different. Perhaps you travel from Chicago to Japan twice a year...yep, that's far-flung. Perhaps you divide your time between Montana and New York City...yep, that's far-flung. Or perhaps you stick close to home but cross into a neighboring county twice a week...yep, that's far-flung (as long as--and this is the key--the journey throws you out of your comfort zone in some significant way).

Q: Do I have to be an expat like you?

A: Oh, god, no. If you travel & get out of your comfort zone, you qualify.

Q: Is cultural spelunker a real term?

A: It is now. I made it up.

All set?

Good. Spend the week thinking about your far-flung life and meet me back here in a week.

Happy travels.

Me & the Panda in Chengdu

A few years ago I headed to Chengdu, China, to commune with the pandas. For a ridiculous fee, you could get your photo taken with one. I've got a thing about pandas so I stood in the photo line FOREVER behind the other 1.4 billion people who inhabit China. Just as I got behind the panda and set my hand on his back, the lady in charge stepped close to me and said something like, "When pandas get tired, they can attack." Then she stepped away.

Here's me and the panda:

Travel Tuesday: Place (Sacred Ground...Temple Hound)

Welcome to TRAVEL TUESDAY: PLACE, a new weekly addition to "My Beautiful, Far-Flung Life."

If you've read this blog in the past, you know a few things about me:

1. I'm an American. My husband is from Ireland. Our daughter is Vietnamese. We live in Shanghai, China. (That's me...the far-flung writer.)
2. I travel...a lot...often very long distances...often to pretty cool places.
3. I take a lot of photographs.
4. I am deeply inspired by place, so much so that much of my writing--both fiction and nonfiction--begins with a place. Not a character or a plot line or an object. A place.

Because writing about place (and journeys) is one of my writerly passions, I've decided that every Tuesday from here on out, I'm going to yak with you about that very thing: place.

Sometimes I'll introduce you to a favorite spot in Shanghai or another place to which I've traveled. Other times I'll talk about craft...how to weave a place into a novel so that it becomes a character or how to write tight, vivid descriptions that leave your reader wanting more. I'll give writing prompts. Talk about inspirational places. Review travel memoirs (which I absolutely love!). Share personal essays about places. Interview cool writers who really know how to work a place into their writing. Ask questions of you. Offer contests with fun giveaways. Look at maps. Etc.

So here we go. Grab your passport and your pen. Welcome to TRAVEL TUESDAY: PLACE!

TODAY'S PLACE: THE LONGHUA TEMPLE (SHANGHAI, CHINA)

I love temples. And monks. And Buddhisty colors: ocher & red. And chanting. And statues of Buddha and the arhats. And meditation. And incense. And that oh-so-peaceful feeling that washes through me as soon as I pay my meager RMB 10 ($1.50) at the gate and pass from the chaotic streets of China onto temple grounds.

My favorite temple in Shanghai?

The Longhua Temple. It's the oldest Buddhist temple in Shanghai, built (at least the original parts though much has been destroyed and rebuilt many times since) somewhere around 247 A.D. It's always a crazy-busy place...with lots of devotees burning incense, making offerings, and saying prayers (and yes, lots of tourists snapping photos), but even so, it's peaceful. There aren't any scooters trying to run you over; there aren't any hawkers trying to sell you a fake watch or DVD; there aren't any car horns blasting in your ears. (Shanghai is a lot of cool things, but peaceful isn't one of them...finding a bit of that in a city this big is a gift.)

Many times each year, I head to the Longhua Temple to people-watch, take photographs, meditate, and "peace-out," but I always make it a point to visit during the New Year holiday.

Why?

To add my wishes to the "wishing tree," a big, beautiful, golden/reddish (fake) tree that is erected just outside the entrance to the temple. For a small fee, you buy a red silk pouch filled with four ribbons (two gold, two red). Once you buy them, you write a wish on each ribbon, then you hang them in the wishing tree, along with the thousands of other red/gold ribbons others have hung. It's a lovely tradition. (Supposedly, the higher you lob your ribbons into the tree, the more likely it is that your wishes will come true. Lots of folks--like me--simply tie their ribbons in the lower "branches," but watch out...there are folks who do some serious lobbing.)

WRITING: IMPETUS

When I want to write a piece about a place I visit frequently (and write about frequently), I look for a unique story inspiration. Two things inspired me on this particular trip to the Longhua Temple:

1. wishes
2. the two small, roughly molded monk sculptures in the last photo in this blog entry (This is what I look for when I visit a place...the unexpected, the unusual. I always see the beautiful golden Buddhas, but I've never seen something like the two roughly molded monks. I found them in a back corner of the temple where few visitors go. This is the kind of thing that tweaks my storytelling vibe...the thing that starts me writing.)

The Wishing Tree

Wishing Tree Ribbons...One Wish Per Ribbon

Cool, huh?

Gate at The Longhua Temple

Main Hall

Incense burning.

  Up close to the incense...

Buddha

Monk.

Buddha

Monk

Small discoveries

Kindle: Fire It Up!

Today I got a Kindle. It was delivered to me by a wonderful elf (a fellow American expat who bought it for me in the U.S. and hand-carried it all the way to Shanghai). As you can imagine, I am wildly grateful because while we do have a number of bookstores that carry books in English, the books are not necessarily the ones I want to read.

So…

Minutes after my friend the elf handed me my new toy and went home to nurse her jet lag, I met another friend for coffee. “I got my Kindle!” I said.

This friend (who had been away for a month or so) was confused. For a long time, I had been vehemently anti-Kindle (well, not really anti-Kindle, but anti-reading device). “A Kindle? I thought you hated those things,” she said.

“I did,” I said, “but I’ve changed my mind.”

Then I started to think about why. After all, I’m a writer and a voracious reader. I love books. I love paper. I love bookstores. I love libraries (to see just how much, click “Because of a Book”). In fact, an important part of my writing process happens while I’m reading. Believe it or not, I actually write IN books…my own stuff in books...hardback and paperback…whenever I get inspired by what I’m reading. (Shock…horror…I know…but I write all over my books. In the margins. Between sections. On the title page. On the covers. Heck, I write right over text if I’m on a roll.) Without the ability to write by hand while I read, what will happen to my writing process?

Great question.

And how will I “browse” for new books…the way I do at a library or in a bookstore?

Another great question

AND...if I have such concerns, why am I suddenly so gung-ho about my Kindle?

Because…

1. The publishing world is changing and I’m choosing to change with it. While I love books and hope they stick around for a long, long time, I have big doubts. Besides, I’m good at change (heck, I got married and moved to China in fewer than six weeks)...change is my middle name.
2. I want to give reading devices a chance. Sure, they are in their Jurassic Period, and sure, they are guaranteed to change a great deal in the coming years (probably in the coming months), but so what? It’s cool to be starting out with an (somewhat) early version of a device that will inevitably alter how we take in stories. (And how we write them…)
3. Since moving to China, I haven’t done a whole lot of traditional bookstore browsing…and I’ve been fine. I choose most of the books I read via referrals from my husband’s cousin Mary in Ireland, Twitter, friends, Goodreads, various email newsletters from publishers, and other sources.
4. I’m desperate for books in China.
5. I believe words have possibilities we still know nothing about, and if we limit ourselves to a traditional book, we’ll never discover those possibilities. I’m an explorer. I want to explore.
6. I’m just gosh-darn curious.

So as we enter 2010, picture me here in Shanghai, powering up my Kindle, deciding which book I’ll download first. And second. And third. And 1,336th.

And guess what?

I’m not the only one talking about this. Seth Godin (the Godfather of What Comes Next) and The Christian Science Monitor are talking, too. See what they have to say.