Showing posts with label travel writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel writing. Show all posts

Rolf Potts on Time Wealth ( A Note)

ROLF POTTS
I first heard about travel writer Rolf Potts an eon ago, when he interviewed me about my travel memoir of Baja California, Miraculous Air, for his Vagabonding blog. Back then-- whew, it was maybe 2003 or 2004?-- the idea that another writer, on his own platform, would "publish" interviews was very avant-garde. How things have changed! 

(In part in emulation of Potts, I started my own occasional podcast series of Q & A with my favorite writer friends. So thanks, Rolf.)


TIM FERRISS
With his books and blog, Potts has garnered legions of fans over the years, including Tim Ferriss. Ferriss, the super-buff, tango-dancing, Mr Viral-Video, tree-climbing, globe-trotting author of the best-selling Four Hour Work Week, is the sort of author I'm usually allergic to (well, I sniff, how else will I ever get through my backlog of Willa Cather novels?). But Tim, I send you a cyber shower of jpeg lotus petals! Because, actually, I did read The Four Hour Work Week and gleaned some nifty ideas from it, and I quite enjoyed your recent podcast interview with Rolf Potts. In particular, I was heartened to hear you guys talking about "time wealth."
(In addition to more podcasts)
On my wish list for more exciting
baking experiences: the Yeti oven mitt

(Speaking of time wealth, while listening in, I was baking a pumpkin cake. I hereby award myself a prize.)

But seriously, I think about time wealth-- though until now I wouldn't have used that term-- all the time. It's the hours, quality hours, of one's life-- how to maximize the number and maximize their quality? Most  people assume that more money, more stuff, is the way. But as one climbs the curve of middle age, one starts to feel the drag of clutter, and the shrinking time-horizon. 

As they say, "your stuff owns you," for every single thing, whether big (a house) or small (a pair of shoes) requires both care (of some sort, at some point) and physical space. Trips to the mall, the dry cleaners, the grocery store, getting that light fixture fixed... I'm always asking myself, is this where I want to be? Is this what I want to be doing? I have so many books I want to write, and time rolls by at a frighteningly fast rate. 

One exercise that always brings me back to the best tactics to maximize time wealth is to imagine that I have, say, a hundred million dollars. Silly as it may sound, I recommend doing it seriously. 


As "the Estate Lady," Julie Hall,
reminds us, "the hearse doesn't
have a trailer hitch"
Really, what would you do if you had a hundred million dollars?  

Most people, once they get past their tittering at the helium in such an idea, blow through a long list of stuff-- a special car, a fabulous mansion, a this, a that... but then, past all the material objects, and a parade of imaginary butlers and masseuses (none of whom, ha, seem to require training, time off, any paperwork, inconvenient boyfriends or children, or annoying quirks), and then, oh yeah...

Giving away a wad of it to this relative, another wad to that charity... There's usually a long list of relatives, friends, and charities.

And then... then...

All of that exhausted, there is something else. 

Something the heart yearns for, and that, usually, doesn't require much money, if any. It might be time to read, just read, on a beautiful beach. The chance to paint. To write a novel. Make a film. Volunteer to help [fill in the blank]. And very often travel often comes up: to cross the country on a bike, to see India, or, say, hike the length of the Appalachian trail. 

The thing is, stuff-- whether the illusory lack of it, or the clutter of it-- has gotten in the way of seeing the heart's true, and for most people even of the most ordinary means, very attainable, path. 

Dear readers, check out Tim Ferriss' podcast interview with Rolf Potts. (Don't mind Ferriss' nattering on about his viral videos and his underwear. As we say in Mexico, no hay dos.)

P.S. Tim, you're a strange dude. But I sincerely appreciate your gusto for both learning and most especially, for teaching. (And don't bother with an MFA. Write from the heart. If you like Naomi Shihab Nye's poetry, your road is golden.)

Your COMMENTS are always welcome.















Miraculous Air: Journey of a Thousand Miles through Baja California, the Other Mexico: 




(from the workshop page)

Bruce Berger's The End of the Sherry

I like to say that books are thought-capsules that can travel through time and space-- e.g., here I am rereading Cabeza de Vaca's 16th century Naúfragos, his memoir of (who'd a thunkit?) far West Texas, and other yonder beyonds. But the fact is, thanks to our books, we writers often make friendships in the here and now. Bruce Berger is one such. He's the author of Almost an Island, one of my very favorite travel memoirs, as well as a passel of other works about Baja California and the deserts of the southwest United States. When my book about Baja California, Miraculous Air, came out in 2002 and apropos of that he-- out of the blue-- sent me an autographed copy of his latest, Sierra, Sea and Desert: El Vizcaíno, well, though we hadn't yet met in person, we were good friends. 

So what shows up in my mailbox this Christmas but his autographed latest, The End of the Sherry-- and just as with Almost an Island, as I read, I am not only in awe of his poetic prose, but laughing out loud at one thing or another on almost every page. 

The End of the Sherry is his coming of age as an artist story-- set all the way back in the 1960s, when he played piano in Spain for three years. With his love for music, enthusiasm for travel, his poetry, appreciation for beauty, for the quirks and peculiarities of all kinds of people, and always served up with that scrumptiously puckish sense of humor... reading Berger is the best way to start out the new year.

COMMENTS

World Waiting for a Dream: Travels in Far West Texas

The work-in-progress, begun back in January of this year, finally has a title: World Waiting for a Dream: Travels in Far West Texas. Of course, it opens with the arrival of Cabeza de Vaca in La Junta, a dreamlike sequence if there ever was one. I'll be reading from the manuscript and talking about travel writing on January 29, 2013 for PEN San Miguel de Allende. Stay tuned for details.

Meanwhile, listen in any time to the ongoing Marfa Mondays podcasts which, so far, include interviews with art expert and museum curator Mary Bones, artist Avram Dumitrescu, Big Bend wilderness expert Charles Angell, Chihuahuan Desert bee expert Cynthia McAlister, Rock hound Paul Graybeal of Moonlight Gemstones, and Yours Truly recounting some super weird experiences with the Marfa Lights. And... I've got several more podcasts in line to upload this month and next. There will be a total of 24 podcasts through the end of 2013 at which point I expect I'll have a complete draft of the book. Which may look nothing like the podcasts. A ver qué tal.

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Literary Travel Writing Workshop on September 8th at the Writer's Center, Bethesda MD

Rainbow in Camp Denali, July 2012 (c) C.M. Mayo 2012
Take your travel writing to another level: the literary, which is to say, giving the reader the novelistic experience of actually traveling there with you. For both beginning and advanced writers, this workshop covers the techniques from fiction and poetry that you can apply to this specialized form of creative nonfiction for deliciously vivid effects. 

One day only, Sunday September 8 from 1 - 5 pm
The Writer's Center
4508 Walsh St
Bethesda MD (just outside Washington DC)
www.writer.org

About the instructor:
C.M. Mayo is the author of the novel The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire, which was named a Library Journal Best Book of 2009. She is also the author of Miraculous Air: Journey of a Thousand Miles Through Baja California, the Other Mexico, a travel memoir of Mexico's Baja Califorinia peninsula; and Sky over El Nido, which won the Flannery O'Connor Award for Short Fiction. She is the editor of a collection of Mexican literature in translation, Mexico: A Traveler's Literary Companion. For more about C.M. Mayo and her work, visit www.cmmayo.com.


>> For more information about this workshop and to register on-line click here.

We'll be looking at a variety of techniques, mainy from fiction and poetry, but one of the most basic for beginning a draft is simply noticing specific detail that appeals to the senses. From my notes from a recent journey to Alaska (you'll see it's not brain surgery):

Denali, of course. Spatulated lavender.
Other sights: 
receding moose; levering hind legs
polkadots of Dall sheep on green
3 blues of Wonder Lake

Heard:
eeee  eeee eeee
gravel underfoot
freeway roar of distant river

Smelled:
wet moss
drying socks
hot chocolate

Tasted:
cloudberry (spit the pip!)
Hoof N Woof honey (flowers of a season ago)
cinnamon gummy bear 

Felt:
unfriendly bear pelt
chocolatey-suave beaver pelt
sinking into spongy tundra mosses

Bright on the ground:
monk's hood; mushroom caps, sparkle of water

In the sky:
eagle; rainbow; moon

New to remember:
charismatic megafauna
braided river
Michio Hoshino's photographs and mini-essays



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For further surfing:

>From the Workshop: Literary Travel Writing by C.M. Mayo, Writer's Carousel, Spring 2009

>Listen to my most recent Marfa Mondays podcast, "We Have Seen the Lights"

>Read some excerpts from my memoir, Miraculous Air: Journey of a Thousand Miles through Baja California, the Other Mexico. 

>Recommended travel memoirs.

> Questions about this workshop? Just ask!

Guest-blogger Gerry Hadden on 5 Great Places to Visit that You'd Probably Never Find (and 5 links to learn something more)

Gerry Hadden is the author of a book just out from HarperCollins that, as a long-time resident of Mexico City-- the very navel of the Americas, IMHO-- I am especially anxious to read: Never the Hope Itself. It's been garnering rave reviews, including from Publisher's Weekly, which calls it, "Offbeat, gripping....It's the rare journalist who shows such a mystical bent, but Hadden's quirks and openness give his book a rare charm."

Here's the catalog copy:

A former NPR correspondent takes you into his own ghost-filled life as he reports on a region in turmoil. Gerry Hadden was training to become a Buddhist monk when opportunity came knocking: the offer of a dream job as NPR’s correspondent for Latin America. Arriving in Mexico in 2000 during the nation’s first democratic transition of power, he witnesses both hope and uncertainty. But after 9/11, he finds himself documenting overlooked yet extraordinary events in a forgotten political landscape. As he reports on Colombia’s drug wars, Guatemala’s deleterious emigration, and Haiti’s bloody rebellion, Hadden must also make a home for himself in Mexico City, coming to terms with its ghosts and chasing down the love of his life, in a riveting narrative that reveals the human heart at the center of international affairs.

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Five Great Places to Visit That You’d Probably Never Find
Gerry Hadden

1. The shaded stream that circumvents a Garifuna village near Punta Gorda, Belize.
I was floating in it with a young Garifuna known as “the Jamaican” among the drug dealers in Queens. He was back in the village, trying to start over. He had seven bullet scars. “Look,” he said. I turned my head. Inches from my nose began an endless floating field of tiny white flowers, stretching upstream. I don’t know how they all ended up in the water. They moved passed us like silent boats, tickling our necks.
-->Learn to speak Garifuna.

2. The forest brothel along another river, Veracruz state, Mexico.
Sitting in the open shack, under Christmas lights strung in trees, talking to the girls, waiting for my interviewee. A mean guy showed up first, put a knife and a bottle on the table, made me drink with him. The sugarcane worker I was waiting for arrived. “Leave the Gringo alone,” he said. The mean guy stood, smashed his bottle and pointed it at me. I ran like hell. Then I turned back. I didn’t want to leave my contact behind. But when I reached the brothel all the lights were out, the music turned off. I ran again.
-->Hear some music from Veracruz(search Graciana Silva).

3. A ridge in the sierra outside San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas, Mexico.
A shaman showing me his garden: plants to staunch bleeding, to help with birthing, to cure the chills or the fear of walking alone in the dark. The view looked West down a sloping valley crisscrossed with hills fading one into the next. Foreigners were coming to steal the shaman’s medicinal secrets. I never wanted to leave.
-->Take a canoe ride through Chiapan culture.

4. A field behind a voodoo temple, Western Haiti.
They were holding the ceremony so that Jean Bertrande Aristide would win the presidency and be a good leader. That was a lot to ask. A bonfire burned. Women circled it dressed in white and blue, singing something beautiful. We men formed an inner circle. The priest danced close to the fire and then let a goat have it with a machete. The rest is history.
-->See some of the best photos of Haiti.

5. A wooden meditation hut in the highland rainforest outside Xalapa, Veracruz.
I’d complained to the Buddhist monastery’s abbey that I couldn’t concentrate. The constant traveling had my mind racing. But after a week of solitude I began to feel grounded again. Upon returning to Mexico City that peace evaporated quickly. Okay, this last place you can find.
-->Here’s the link (in Spanish only).

-- Gerry Hadden


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---> For the complete archive of Madam Mayo guest-blog posts, click here.

Guest-blogs on travel in Mexico include David Lida on 5 secrets of Mexico City; Nicholas Gilman on 5 funky foods in Mexico City and where to find them; Stephanie Elizondo Griest on 5 glimpses into the Mexican underworld; and Isabella Tree on 5 favorite books about Mexico.