There's a song from the musical rent that I keep thinking about called "Will I?"

The lyrics begin:

"Will I lose my dignity?
Will someone care?
Will I wake tomorrow
From this nightmare?"

I keep feeling that every day since this nightmare that some people call a presidential election.
I keep hoping it will get better. I keep thinking it will get better. It does get better in spurts. And then I remember again:

DONALD TRUMP is going to be our president.

This is a man who said he would, well you know to women. Of women. And, yet, some women voted for him.

I have spent hours trying to figure out who these women are, trying to understand them, but still: I got nothing.

I mean I have a little something, but REALLY? America: really?

You chose him or her. THAT over this?

In my grief, a Linda Ronstadt song comes to mind.

I'm going to try to keep going: In the name of justice and peace and all that is right and good.

As Harriet Tubman said and then Hillary Clinton: "Keep going."

We will rise up and fight, fight, fight:

Dear People Who Voted for Donald Trump:

I need you to listen good and listen hard. I know that some of you are my friends and my neighbors, people I care about and people I have known a long time.

I don't understand how you could have done what you have done. You voted against everything I believe in. You voted against the inscription on the statue of liberty, which reads:

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses, yearning to breathe free
The wretched refuge of your teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless, tempest tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door."

Emma Lazarus



Last year, Donald Trump said of undocumented immigrants: "They're bringing drugs. They're bringing crime. They're rapists."

The truth about undocumented immigrants and life in general is much more complicated. Undocumented immigrants do pay taxes. They pay into the system. They pay for benefits they may never see. See this article in The Atlantic

http://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2016/09/undocumented-immigrants-and-taxes/499604/

When you talk about undocumented immigrants and not wanting them to come here, is it really about jobs, or is it just racism? Does it make you uncomfortable to live among people who don't look like you? If so, what are you afraid of?

It's easy to talk about immigration reform in neat lines and cute slogans. But these are real people. Real people's lives. As a human being, I feel like it's my duty to stand up for what's right. And I will oppose your walls and your hate:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/local/i-dont-feel-safe-undocumented-immigrants-fear-what-trump-will-do-as-president/2016/11/09/0a2bfc36-a6cc-11e6-8042-f4d111c862d1_story.html

Jensen Beach, "Wyoming"

I like this short flash piece, "Wyoming" from jmww.

It speaks to what we do and why we do it. It speaks to those stories that make us laugh or cry and why.

A line that stood out to me was: "People die all the time, of course, and it almost never makes the news unless the death was somehow unusual or horrific."

This story made me think about the kinds of deaths that we think about as tragic and why--the interconnectedness of life. Or at least some life. Why do some stories get to us and grab us while others don't?

"The Oranges" by Summer Robinson

There are so many good stories out there on the Internet. Sometimes, though, you may not know where to find them. One website I like is Everyday Genius. Everyday Genius publishes new writing daily Monday through Friday.

I really like Everyday Genius' pick for December 9, "The Oranges." The story was strange, interesting, and unexpected.

At first, I didn't know what was happening in the story. In fact, I read it over again--several times. I think I understand it now. If not, I believe the failing is mine. Did you like this story too? If so, what did you like about it?

What do you think makes a good story? What does it take to grab your interest and keep it?

My name is Lori D'Angelo, and I--proudly--have an MFA

Have you seen articles and comments like this: "An MFA is not for everyone" or "My MFA was a waste of time" or "MFAs are ruining writing"?

I don't know that there has been one lately. Oh, yes, there has. Of course, there has. There always is. That post. That comment on facebook or Twitter or Pitterpattertwatter that says an MFA is a waste of money, time, or even, ridiculously, that an MFA ruined someone's life.

Lately, one of those comments or posts or whatever has especially annoyed me. And so I, finally, decided. I'm going to say something. Publicly.

An MFA is not a miracle drug. It will not make you into Charles Dickens or Jane Austen or David Sedaris or Aimee Bender or any writer that you aspire to be or be like overnight or maybe ever. And, by the way, the goal of an MFA is not to make you into some other writer; it's meant to help you become the best writer you can be.

An MFA program will likely be hard. You might cry in or after a workshop. A fellow writer might tell you he or she couldn't wait for your character to die. You take all that. You listen. And then you graduate. You leave. You decide. Will I ever write again? That is up to you. You aren't forced. It might be hard at first to find your rhythm, your groove, after the MFA when you don't know what kind of job you'll have or if you'll have a job at all, but if writing means anything to you--still--you will find a way to write because you can't not write. It's such a part of who you are.

That is not to say that there might not be disappointments in your MFA program and after. Of course there will be. You may not get a fellowship or an internship or a job. You may not be admitted into a PhD program. You may not win a contest or get an agent. Or maybe you will, eventually, in time.

But before I got my MFA, I didn't know how to submit to literary journals. I didn't know what I needed to do to ready my work for publication. Some people learn these things on their own. Great. Good for them. But I didn't, and I probably wouldn't have. I needed a concentrated setting to have my work and my ambition validated.

I needed to know that someone believed in me. Maybe it wasn't all of my classmates. Maybe it wasn't any of them. But it was the MFA program that admitted me and the teachers there, or they wouldn't have admitted me. Time and time again, it meant a lot--everything--to know that someone thought I could do it, so maybe I could do it. I know now--after my MFA--that I can do it. And I believe absolutely and without a doubt that because of my MFA program, I am a better and more confident writer.

Jacob Knabb's "Studebaker"

I like Jacob Knabb's short piece "Studebaker" which you can find at the cool website, Everyday Genius.

It was posted on 10/25/11. If you haven't checked it out, you should. It's a web journal that's updated Monday through Friday. Different months of the journals have different editors. Some of the stories in the journal have been featured in Wigleaf Top 50 Stories for 2011.

The piece is about a kid whose father's car has been in an accident. The piece begins, "I have never been able to describe the way my father’s voice sounded with his nose full of blood as cars passed us on the interstate." Check out the story here: http://www.everyday-genius.com/2011/10/jacob-s-knabb.html

What do you look for in a short piece of fiction? What grabs your attention and compels you to keep reading?

"Indian Summer"

I really like the lyric eeriness of this piece in the generally excellent journal, Stirring:

http://www.sundresspublications.com/stirring/briggsm.htm

(Admittedly, they once published one of my stories. Does that mean my story is excellent?)

Do you like this story? How would you characterize it? Do we need to characterize it? I really like the density of this piece. What do you like about it? There's so much here--life, death, seasons.

In addition, there are some fine poems in this issue of Stirring that I would check out as well. Enjoy this story and the literature of fall.