In which teens are so much more on their game than I ever was

I got to spend the afternoon with some of the most interesting people I've met all summer; the members of the blogging workshop I taught (ha! all I did was wind up some ideas, they did the rest!) at Vox today.

This was entirely worth putting on shoes and eyeliner for. (Note that I've been on vacation for a week, and writing, which renders me sub-human.)

Topics included volunteering in Haiti, how young is too young to be dancing inappropriately at parties (um, five is too young, you betcha) accuracy of graduation statistics in suburban high schools, dancing in a cage (there's more to that one, read their blog, not mine...) social networking safety, media & message, and how to tell if someone's giving out bad advice.

Don't take my word for it - go to the blog regularly and read these voices. They're outstanding, and as a person who actually had a seat given up for her on the MARTA - hey, that gray streak is Sontag-ish, not old - I'm ready to belief these folks can take the reins.

Check the blogroll over there on screen right for some new links to some Vox bloggers! (And thanks, Kel , for calling me out on the bad link!)

Memoirs of Illness & Recovery

Check out Boldtype's list of what they call "sick lit" - illness and addiction memoirs. A very good dip into the genre, including more kudos for our friend Paul Guest, and one of the most important items in the canon, "Autobiography of a Face." (You're writing a memoir of any kind, you want to go read Lucy Grealy's book. Go. Now.)

There are so many more to add to this list, like "Intoxicated By My Illness" by Anatole Broyard, or "On Being Ill" by Virginia Woolf, but start here if you're new to the genre. Or if you're not!

How Not To Query An Agent

Want to write the perfect query letter? First, read these from "slush pile hell " and promise me, yourself, and all the hard working, patient, and terrific agents out there that you will never, ever, do anything like these.

Scout's honor?

Thanks to Brevity for the link.

Know A Teen? Wish You Were a Teen?

Looking over this list of summer workshops at VOX, I'd like to take all of them.

These are muy cool - sourcing for newswriters, concept to story, Turner Broadcasting tour - some serious stuff! And I get to teach one this week, too!

A Summer Reading review!

Thanks, Roswell Current for including Invisible Sisters as recommendation for summer reading !

In which I go all academic and stuff

Did I say how cool it is that the NYU Literature and Humanities database has included Invisible Sisters?

Well, it is! Very brainy!

What memory is like

Memory, I've decided, is like a matroyska doll, also known as a Russian nesting doll, but I'm a believer in the precise naming of the thing (Aristotle) and am also at least significantly Russian in heritage, so it's a matroyska doll.

Memory is non-linear. You remember something from when you were six, followed by something from when you were twenty, and they're grouped in your mind who-knows-how. Which is why I love metaphor. Metaphor is the determining factor for me.

One inside the other, that's memory. A nesting doll.

Savannah, I was wrong about you

Dear Savannah. I was wrong about you. In my limited experience with you, I found you remote, shallow, and yes, touristy. But this weekend you've changed my mind. I am, it turns out, a little envious of your bike-riding populace, who travel your flat roads and live-oak laden squares. Yes, we have fun and funky restaurants, but Wall's BBQ takes the cake - or the red rice. Speaking of cake, Back in the Day Bakery gave me blood sugar palpitations just walking in the door, and the decor is a little girl's party for grown ups. In a good way.

Fireworks for the people on Friday nights along the river? Nice touch.

And Zona Rosa Savannah, thank you for hosting a great book talk, the kind I love to do, that ranges from the personal to the cultural, with writing technique and story craft thrown in.

And on the insect front...

Got stung by a wasp yesterday. Stepped on it and it bit me (southern parlance. I know they don't bite, they sting, but all southern kids say "bit" by a wasp or a bee.) As a friend at work said when I demonstrated my swollen toe, "a sting? That's so middle school!"

But I shoe'd up and went out to hear Paul Guest read from his new book, "One More Theory About Happiness." He's a tremendously gifted poet, and the memoir is every bit as good as I'd expected. Plus, finally get to meet a digital friend IRL.

My sore toe and I are heading to Savannah this weekend for a visit with the Zona Rosa writer's group.

See you there!