My husband tells me the first day of spring is tomorrow, yet the forecast for my morning commute is a brisk 28 degrees. Not quite there yet…
Fitting, though, that “Seeking Warmth”, the latest excerpt from our graphic novel, Stony Road, was just published this week – and by a publication in a place that’s always warm, no less.
Check out the story on the Aquifer: The Florida Review Online website.
Thanks for reading, and here’s to warmer days.
If you know me well, you know I love books and travel in equal measure. In fact, books often inspire my travels. So it was a great pleasure to research and write my newest travel story for Fodors, Beyond the Page: 10 Fascinating Destinations for Bookworm Globetrotters.
Given the ample options for our literary destinations, it was tough to narrow down the list to just 10 places, but my editors and I did it! Our literary locales include such far-flung places as Melbourne, nicknamed the City of Literature, and as close by as the Hotel Monteleone in New Orleans, a favorite author gathering spot that’s also featured in many a novel.
Take a look and, if you’re so inclined, drop me a line and tell me your favorite literary-inspired destination!
Photo courtesy s2art via Flickr Creative Commons
My uncle and I have been working on Stony Road, a graphic novel, for about three years now. We took a year to research and outline, a year to write and illustrate, and a year to revise and pitch agents and publishers.
In addition to pitching the entire book, we’ve also been pitching excerpts as stand-alone short stories. Patty, the first excerpted short story, is this week’s lead piece in Booth literary magazine.
As a writer, I found it a fascinating exercise to storyboard this sequence, to think visually to convey the scene, rather than relying on language to walk the reader through the story. In a way it was quite freeing: Before working on this project, I never had the opportunity to have artwork do the heavy lifting. Having a new medium to help shape a reader’s understanding was new and novel; I quite enjoyed working in this format.
Hoping to have more updates on this project as we continue to pitch. In the meantime, many thanks to the team at Booth!
Image copyright Rick Stromoski
I am a creature of habit, always heading to the same spot on the platform to catch the train, and this macabre progress check became routine: Get off the bus. Swipe my monthly pass. Head to the left, down the stairs, toward the three billboards. Check for the rabbit. Get on the train.
Dead rabbits, subway trains, and the passage of time…I’m pleased to report that even weird stories can find a home. Check out my newest short story, “Sullivan Square,” now up on Scout Somerville.
Photo courtesy The West End on Flickr Creative Commons
It seems I’ve taken an unexpected hiatus here on the blog, one I hope to remedy in the coming weeks and months. Why the hiatus? I’ve been working on other writing projects, including Beneficiaries, a novel in short stories.
I’m pleased to share that Embark, a literary journal for novelists, has included the first chapter of Beneficiaries in its second issue. Embark has a great premise in that they only publish the first pages of a novel, “those crucial first pages that must engage the reader’s attention and often receive more polishing than any other part of the book”, as they so eloquently put it.
Here’s the first glimpse of “Barnstorm”, aka Chapter One of Beneficiaries:
Want to read more? Check out the full chapter, as well as my Author Statement, over on Embark.
Photo courtesy Alexander Shustov on Unsplash.
If you follow my blog or my social media accounts, you’re aware that I recently changed banks. The process took me five months and I ended up paying about $50 in fees to do it. (I originally thought I paid $75 in fees, but one fee ended up getting refunded. Anyway, I digress…) Given that the whole point of this exercise was to stop giving money to my old bank, I found ponying up for these fees incredibly frustrating.
Looking back, I realize that, despite careful research, I made several mistakes along the way—expensive mistakes. Mistakes and unnecessary transactions come with fees attached, and the system is designed for consumers to make lots of mistakes.
Think about it: The changing banks process is already arduous enough. Add in a few fees, and you may get frustrated, angry, discouraged, and/or apathetic. (I’m guilty of the first three.) Worse yet, you may stay put or stop the changing banks process altogether.
Don’t! Persist and move your money to a bank or credit union that better aligns with your values. I’m here to share my experiences, step by step, so you don’t make the same mistakes I did.
Here’s my changing banks checklist so you can avoid fees, spend less time in the process, and preserve your sanity.
The Changing Banks Checklist
A final thought: At first, I avoided many in-person conversations because I thought I could save time and money by doing things over the phone or online. Then, after receiving conflicting advice between my old bank’s customer service reps and the website experience—and paying fees for it—I ultimately decided to make an appointment and wrap everything up in person. The in-person meeting took all of 10 minutes and was actually the most pleasant, fee-free, and efficient interaction with my old bank.
(Yes, based on that last exchange, the irony of my new bank being all-online is not lost on me. However, from my experience thus far, they have outstanding customer service.)
Have you changed banks? Which steps did you take to do it? Share your expertise by leaving a comment!
Photo courtesy Rafael Gonzalez via Flickr Creative Commons
Progress continues on Stony Road, the graphic novel I’m working on with my uncle, Rick Stromoski.
In the spirit of showing your work (thanks, Austin Kleon!), here are few pages from Chapter 2…
More to come…
I’m actually not sure which generations of my family were immigrants—my great-grandparents or great-great-grandparents, I’d presume. There are mysteries on both sides: My maternal grandmother’s family has many gaps from her illegitimacy; my paternal grandfather’s gaps stem from his estrangement with my father.
The bottom line is most of us, as Americans, are immigrants.
What I know of my lineage: My mother’s father’s family emigrated from Danzig, now Gdansk, a then-disputed territory on the border of Germany and Poland. Because of this inconclusive geography, I don’t know if my ancestors considered themselves German or Polish, and throughout my upbringing, both heritages were mentioned. These Eastern European relatives settled outside Pittsburgh, with many descendants still there.
My father’s mother’s predecessors came from County Clare in Ireland. Growing up, I never heard her mention her Irish heritage, although some email exchanges before my first trip there revealed said county. When I asked for a specific town within County Clare, she said she didn’t know.
My mother’s mother—New York City, full stop. Her father may have been Welsh. Her mother—no one knows. Thomas and Andersen were the last names. UK? Ireland? It wasn’t discussed.
My father’s father—Italy. Where in Italy? Excellent question. Throughout the years, I heard Naples, Rome, Sicily. While studying abroad in Rome, I found a street near my apartment in Trastevere—Viale Cesare Pascarella. Good enough for me, in the absence of other concrete signposts. Rome it would be. My grandfather passed away a few years back, and I never had the opportunity to ask and find out for myself. Such is the dynamic of respecting the parental relationship and the boundaries that have been long drawn.
These origins, and many customs, have long been lost. However, two things were kept, with varying degrees of success: food and religion.
Nana’s food: My father’s mother liked to cook. She was an Irish cook, first and foremost, with a specialty for roast pork, potatoes, sheet cakes. She did adapt to her first husband’s cuisine, however, and made a decent red sauce. (Sauce was the term, never gravy.) When I think back to meals around her New Jersey table, though, adaptations of what was readily available were frequent features: small white potatoes, brimming with salt, out of a can. Red Jell-o, both cherry and strawberry, sometimes with banana or pineapple, sometimes not. (Young me preferred not.) Pickled beets and onions. So maybe not so Irish after all…
Grandpa’s food: My mother’s father gravitated toward hearty Polish dishes. Potato soup. Pork and sauerkraut. Bread and roast meats. I was at his bedside, giving him a rundown of all the food I had eaten on a trip to Poland, when he passed away. The last words he may have heard were my descriptions of pierogies, kielbasa, and piwo w sokiem.
Religion: All sides were Catholic, although at the end of their lives, most grandparents were lapsed. To my knowledge, none of their children or grandchildren are practicing. In fact, of all the grandkids, only one was confirmed. (Me.)
I don’t know why my ancestors emigrated from Germany, Ireland, Italy, and Poland.
I don’t know if they were good, decent people.
I don’t know if they were demonized.
I don’t know if they worked hard.
I don’t know who they were.
I can only look back two or three generations, and the gaps are still vast.
And with that blank slate, I look at my new fellow Americans, coming in from all over, for a myriad of reasons, and I know—you too could be my family.
You belong here, too.
Ellis Island children billboard photo courtesy June Marie via Flickr Creative Commons
I didn’t start out as a Bank of America customer. I moved to Boston in 2000 and needed a local bank. Fleet was close to my apartment, so I went with them. (Don’t judge. I was young and convenience trumped all.) Within a few years, Bank of America gobbled up Fleet. And because of apathy, I didn’t change, just accepted it—even though the fees were high. Even though customer service wasn’t great. Even though the interest was piddling. Their website worked, I liked their app, so fine. Laziness won.
Then I saw this article from Food and Water Watch showing which banks were subsidizing the Dakota Access Pipeline. Oh hi, Bank of America, to the tune of $350 million dollars.
Then Election 2016 happened, and I didn’t want my money to continue passively supporting policies that didn’t align with my values.
My husband and I, after nearly 14 years together, had never combined bank accounts, but it was something we had discussed doing “at some point.” (See above re: laziness.) He was a Citizens Bank customer. We checked the DAPL funding site. Oh hi, Citizens Bank to the tune of $72 million dollars.
So it was time—time for us both to change banks, and while we were at it, combine accounts. We started researching new banks, based on the following criteria:
Based on those criteria, we narrowed our choices down to five banks—three national banks with strong digital offerings, and two local entities (one community bank and one local credit union).
Each was then evaluated on the five questions above, and from there, we had two finalists: Winter Hill Community Bank (in our neighborhood) and Ally bank (online only).
Winter Hill got great ratings for community involvement, local development, and overall fiscal health. It got poor marks for customer service. It only had three locations in our neighborhood, and charged a fee for using other banks’ ATMs.
Ally got decent ratings for corporate responsibility, and high marks for customer service. It offered slightly better rates for its accounts, and free ATMs through their network. If customers go out of network, there’s a fee, but Ally refunds up to $10/month in fees.
All things weighed, we opted to go with Ally and to use our Ally ATM cards at Winter Hill Bank whenever possible, so they’ll benefit from any applicable fees.
We’re in the final stages of making the switch now, with all the headaches that changing banks entails. But in the long run, I’m glad to be putting our money where our values are.
Photo courtesy Ed Ivanushkin via Flickr Creative Commons
Like parents and children, writers aren’t supposed to have favorite works, right? Each piece holds its own special place, the result of a unique hybrid of ideas, experience, workshops, feedback, revisions, more revisions, pitches, and (hopefully) acceptance and publication. Each work is a snapshot of the writer at a particular moment in time, and reflects the writer’s state of mind up to and at that point. Writing is too subjective a process to rank what’s produced. How can one piece stand apart from the rest?
Yet having said that… my short story, Acquaintance, is my all-time favorite piece I’ve written. Originally part of a larger novel, it was able to be coaxed out and morphed into a smaller work. Sometimes you work on something big, only to find that distillation is what’s needed. In that case, while the effort and result may not be matched in volume or size, the alignment between labor and product lies (hopefully) in resonance and meaning.
Thanks, ink&coda journal, for publishing my favorite.
Photo courtesy Jonas Boni via Flickr Creative Commons
Sarah Pascarella | Writer 