09/18/2009: "Teaching Gig"

Hi All,

Well, things go apace here in Toronto. Well, sort of. I come to understand that when a flighty but hardworking artsy-fartsy type like myself can't land some sort of job, any sort of job, well, there really must be a recession going on out there!

This now marks the longest time in my adult existence that I've been unemployed. It's not for lack of trying. I sent out a raft of resumes in advance of my arrival in Toronto and the last month and a half I've sent out, by my conservative estimate, over 200 resumes. To newspapers---I actually hand-delivered packages with my resumes and 'clippings' to the major news outlets here in Toronto---magazines, schools, universities, libraries, television and radio stations, government agencies, recruitment agencies and so on. Those were my 'Tier One' applications ... although there really is no 'Tier Two.' There are just a lot of jobs that I could do, and would happily do, even jobs one might euphemistically (although somewhat elitist-ly) call 'warm body' jobs, in that the employer is really looking for a dedicated and reliable warm body. Which is fine, I like those sorts of jobs and have done them before. So I applied for jobs as a tree planter, a dog walker, an animal shelter attendant, something called a 'worm harvester' which I think meant I'd have been duded up in hip waders rooting around collaring nightcrawlers in big sandboxes full of mud---and I'd've been grateful enough for that opportunity. They were hiring 120 harvesters so I figured, Well, I've got a shot. No dice. I'm not sure if human resource people are looking at my admittedly picayune resume and saying to themselves: "This wacky ink-stained wretch is probably so unreliable he'll spend his time chasing brightly-colored butterflies instead of planting trees or mowing lawns or harvesting worms or walking dogs or whatever." Which is a hard assumption to fight, seeing as the 200 or so resumes I've sent haven't yet resulted in one---ONE!---interview where I might present myself as a decent, responsible, hardworking member of the labor force.

Needless to say, I've had to become more frugal. Not that I lived an excessive or lavish lifestyle to begin with---Oh, will you look at Mister Fancypants with his BLUEBERRY BAGELS! Well laa-dee-daa! But I've had to tighten the purse strings even more. Here's a water-conserving trick: when you take a shower, take a sieve filled with your favorite Top Ramen noodles in with you; let that expensive heated water pass through the sieve, through those nutritious noodles, then let it hit your skin. So you get those noodles all nice and moist while giving yourself a good weekly (bi-weekly, if you can afford it) cleansing.

Ha! I kid. Sort of.

I did come across this ad in a newsletter given to me by a homeless man outside the liquor store. MEN AND WOMEN NEEDED TO PARTICIPATE IN CLINICAL STUDIES. Apparently you’re ferried away to a secluded compound and stuffed full of drugs set for clinical trial; you drink OJ, watch TV, a nurse siphons plasma out of your arm at timed intervals ... and they pay you. $2500 a pop! Believe you-me, I am down with that action. Cha-ching! But then when I called them to apply we went through this suitability questionnaire and it turns out that because I have a mild fish allergy I'm not healthy enough to get dosed up with drugs. I mean, COME ON! I've got an Epi-pen; I'll just hammer that into my arm if I start to blow up like a puffer fish.

Needless to say, it leaves a jobseeker a mite frustrated and confused. But it's the way of things all over. I know other guys and gals who have been out of work longer than me; I'm talking smart, committed, experienced people who want to work---NEED to, really, because we've all got bills to pay. I'm sure at some point this will all sort itself out but it's been a sobering experience, I will tell you that. But I hear magazines are faltering, newspapers are on life support, publishers are cutting book advances and everybody's looking to shave a nickel just to stay afloat ... needless to say, not the best time for an unemployed scribe to be looking for work. Except maybe as a Subway sandwich artist ... which I'd be, quite happily.

Anyway, I give great thanks to my friend and fellow writer Lee Gowan, who runs the writing department at Toronto's Department of Continuing Education. I emailed him, expressed a need, and he was able to finagle a course for me. Introduction to Creative Writing. Starts in October, runs until December. A one-time gig, but lovely, I'm grateful to Lee.

So, if you live in the city and want to learn a little something about writing from a desperate and emotionally-crippled instructor---who will never present himself as such, I promise, I'm a very easygoing and professional presence when tasked with an actual academic setting wherein to act professionally---go to the U of T's Continuing Ed department and sign yourself on up. We will be working on short fiction, character development, plot, setting, poetry, and all else pertaining to fiction that I can cram into a 2-hour sesh.

We will certainly have many riveting conversations, perhaps like the one below:

STUDENT 1: I'd like to be a writer because---

ME: Hold on! Hold the phone, Seymour! I'm going to stop you right there. Be a writer? Are you a bozo? I mean, are you trying to be some sort of a HERO, you jumped-up little jackass? I'm sorry. Go on.

STUDENT 1: I'd like to write something that makes a positive contribution to society ...

ME: Oh, lord love a duck! I mean, listen kiddo, society's going to end up making a positive contribution to YOU! [turning out my pockets for emphasis] After teaching you guys I'm going to sit outside this building with a tin cup. My underwear ... [voice dropping to a forlorn whisper] ... they're all ... tattery. Your teacher's underwear ARE ALL TATTERY! Let me again apologize for that outburst. It's a wonderful life, the life of a scribe, and don't let anyone tell you any different. Any of you ever slept out under the stars---I mean, when you weren't camping? Well, as a writer you'll have that opportunity.

STUDENT 2: Are you drunk?

ME: No ... so what if I am? I am shocked at your impudence. I should lash you back to the stone age. Where's my hickory switch?

STUDENT 1: Are we going to talk about writing?

ME: What have we been talking about all this time?

STUDENT 1: Poverty, bitterness, and, uhhhh, burgeoning psychosis?

ME: Exactly! Game, set, match to me! Okay, listen, what do you want to write about?

STUDENT 1: I'd like to write a story about a teenage band---

ME: Okay, well, you've got the teenage part down but I don't like the band part. In fact, I forbid it! No bands! And the only appropriate teenage characters are teenaged vampires or teenaged wizards ... or teenaged symbol cryptologists, although that tests the bounds of belief although I suppose it worked for Doogie Howser so---okay, teenage symbol cryptologists are fine.

STUDENT 1: But I want to write a story about a band.

ME: Listen, okay, if you want you can have your teenage wizard play a zither or something, or if you want to write a story about a teenaged VAMPIRE band who tours around draining the blood out of backwoods yokels while consumed with unconsummated feelings of adolescent desire for their fellow band-mates, then okay, fine. But listen: vampires or wizards, that's all and I mean it. If you want to make them vampire wizards, or wizards with vampiric tendencies, well then even better.

STUDENT 2: I want to write a book about boxing.

ME: Are you SCREWING with me? NEVER! I will flunk your ass.

STUDENT 2: What about a vampire boxer?

ME: Who can also cast spells?

STUDENT 2: Okay.

ME: I'll allow it.

STUDENT 1: I don't like being hemmed in artistically.

ME: Oh, yeah? You want me to pull down my pants and SHOW YOU my tattery drawers? Because that's what an un-hemmed artistic license gets you! So, do you want to see?

STUDENT 1: Not especially.

WEIRDO OUT IN THE HALLWAY: I wouldn't mind.

... No, listen, it won't be anything like that. I'm still a big fan of the written word and the apparatus that attends it, and an optimist to boot. So it will actually be a fun course and I'm not a bad teacher at all so if anyone's of a mind, come on out.

Oh, and also:

Here's a reading and event for my friend Lisa Pasold's book. We're going to be putting together a poker night after the reading and singing and dancing. So anyone who's interested, come on out.

http://www.openbooktoronto.com/events/tinars_presents_lisa_passold_rats_las_vegas

All best,
Craig.