Reclaiming August

"I wonder anybody does anything at Oxford but dream and remember, the place is so beautiful. One almost expects the people to sing instead of speaking." -- William Butler Yeats

View from the Exeter Fellows Garden

I'm falling back into life now. My study abroad was magical, beautiful, life changing, and possibly soul eating. Soul eating because I left part of myself (and accidentally part of my favorite scarf...) in Oxford. Not just in Oxford, but I feel like with the people I met there. My soul is clearly just scattered about to the winds right now. Pieces now reside across the United States, various locations in Europe, and in Australia with thirty four of the most beautiful people I ever met.

There is an Oxford shaped hole in me now. It sounds dramatic and it is. It was one of the most intense and exciting experiences of my life, a major perspective changer. Now here's the cliche bit: when traveling the world and learning about everything around you, you ultimately learn a lot about yourself (unless you have no self-awareness). I think I found what I'm yearning for. While many of my friends are getting married and having babies at an alarming rate, I'm yearning for adventure. I don't want to settle down the way they do, I want to be a nomad. I want to have all the crazy stories and the travel scars. I want to lose more of my soul to more places and more people, because I think eventually I'll find the right people and the right place to consume all the space I'll be making within myself.

I really felt like a writer there. I felt like a competent adult as well. I traveled thousands of miles from home by myself and found friends among strangers. Never did I feel overwhelmed or even very homesick.

So I've been regrouping since I got back. Mostly that means I've been plotting how to go abroad again. This is my senior year. Over the next few months I have to either get myself into good job or an academic program that won't cost me any money. On top of that, I'm hoping that one of those things will also get me out of the US again.

My novel is in a new draft, revisions have been going really well. I'm still setting store by my writing taking me places, but I'm not so naive that I think I'll have a publishing deal by the time I graduate. Even if I do, I know it can take years for a book to hit the shelves, and maybe longer to gain any attention that actually leads to your book producing money. Maybe hiding out in a grad program until it does is a good idea...
I don't know where these next months will lead me, but I'm praying for the next adventure to come knocking on my door soon. There is a small fear that it will never be as good as Oxford. My first adventure abroad set the bar so high. I understand the expression "going down from Oxford" now. Everything seems like a bit of a downer after Oxford.

Turl Street, Oxford: Our last night

Departures

I'm sitting on a bus headed for London at this moment. Oxford is fading behind me. Last night we had a formal dinner where we were given our certificates for the program. We ended up in the student bar afterwards, Grace brought her guitar. We sang songs like "Wagon Wheel." I read out some thoughts I had written down in the Fellow's Garden-- and I'm not usually one to stand on chairs and give speeches, beer in hand. Then we all headed to the King's Arms with the waitstaff, since they finally didn't "work for us" anymore.
I barely slept last night. Still, I didn't cry. I was caught up in everyone, in the shenanigans of one final night, mild though they were. I was in bed by midnight, but up long after that.
It wasn't until this afternoon, as the taxi took me to the bus station and I watched Oxford rolling past me, I began sobbing (as quietly as I could manage). The cabbie tactfully ignored my raw face while helping me unload my luggage. Now I'm sitting here with all these other travelers. There are other Americans, perhaps heading to Heathrow to go back to the states. We're all being quietly jostled in this cold bus, our luggage stowed below.
I almost ran off to Scotland for five days. I was invited by a friend, and it was very tempting, but I'm low on cash, have too much luggage, and my classes start up in two weeks.
Part of me recognizes that this particular adventure is over, I felt that yesterday. I need to go home and reshuffle my deck now.
But Oxford, you've taken a piece of my heart. And I know so much of it was the perfect alignment of people in the program. The people filled those stone wall with life, music, chaos. Somehow the program director managed to select thirty five soul mates for this program. It's sad because there are some people in the program that fill a role, a void in my collection of friends. I don't have anyone like them at home. It's a bit of a jolt to have them ripped away so soon after forming these intense bonds.
I know I'm being dramatic. I've had about ten offers for me to come and visit in Sydney, Melbourne, Vienna,  Los Angeles, Chicago, London: all the places my new friends are from. Maybe someday I'll take them up on the offer.

Adventures of a Yank in Oxford

I guess I haven't been posting regularly because part of me doesn't want to acknowledge that time here is slipping away, that I'll be back in America next week. I want to hold this close to me, like maybe if I keep quiet, I can stay in this Oxford bubble longer, no one will notice me and send me home.

This is my last week at Exeter College and I'm profoundly sad that it's ending. This afternoon four of us went down to Christ Church Meadows and laid out in the grass reading The Virgin Suicides aloud to each other, then played Orange Under Chin, made clover chains. It seems ethereal and other worldly, partly because of the people I'm with. It's such a mixed, exciting bunch of people all passionate about the same thing I am: language, stories, books. Partly though, it's Oxford itself. The town is malleable and can be whatever you want or need it to be. There's a bustling market of high street shops, parks and gardens, pubs, clubs, museums, the rivers, tea shops, theatre: if you can't find something to do here, you aren't trying hard enough. But at the same time, it's not a huge city. There's still so much green. Early in the morning or late in the evening you have the streets virtually to yourself.

Exeter is a beautiful, history laden college as well. Established in 1314, it is (I believe) the third college of the University. It sits basically in the center of town. Perched at the top of our Fellow's Garden you can look out on the Radcliffe Camera (above) and the Bodleian Library. It's close to plenty of great pubs, the Covered Market, several book shops, a Sainsbury's, a cinema; close to all we could need here. Several episodes of Inspector Morse and Lewis have been filmed here. Morse had his famous death scene in front of the Exeter chapel (where they have glorious Baroque concerts during the week), and the 2009 Lewis episode "The Quality of Mercy" was filmed in and around the quad and gardens here.
Our program has been really wonderful as well. Every weekday we have writing professionals: publishers, booksellers, literary agents, poets, come and speak to us. We also have four seminars a week in our chosen area of literature. Everyone is always writing around the campus. There was a paper swap in the student bar and a writing party in my dorm room over the weekend. Best of all: we genuinely are working together, supporting each other, swapping ideas, and producing work.
I know writers have to keep in touch with the world, but there is something so wonderful about being in this little commune with all these other writers. Today, David Fickling of David Fickling Books spoke to us. He mentioned that he thought writing was an intensely social activity. It was funny, usually we think of the writer locked in their basement or study for hours on end, but it's true, writers desperately need to balance that solitude with social interaction, especially with other writers and readers. We need that interchange, we need to be with our species who understand us.
I love Oxford. I'm already contriving ways to come back here. And I'm so glad I came on this study abroad. This weekend though, I know I'll probably be in tears as I leave, because after three weeks it already feels like home. I can't bear to think of this town going on without me. I don't want to miss anything.

A Yank in Oxford: Day 5

I've managed to pick up a cold which is very uncomfortable and fatiguing. I want to be out every spare moment between classes exploring and writing, but with my throat a gravel road and my nose a faucet, I've had to tone it back a bit.
Last night we took a walk around University Park, which is beautiful but full of insects and in certain spots, litter. We almost trampled the cricket green, but our chaperon, Richard, stopped us in time.
As we walked through town to get to the park, Richard told us anecdotes about the various colleges we passed. Apparently Trinity and Balliol have a major rivalry. In the sixties it is reported that students from Balliol turfed the JCR of Trinity college and in turn, Trinity hoisted a "For Sale" sign over Balliol.
Keble college has a tense history with some of the other Oxford colleges as well. The red brick design was considered to be so ugly that a society was formed for the destruction of Keble. Members would pull bricks out of the building to tear it down slowly. Another student, Cate, said she went to get a closer look at Keble, and indeed, there are pocks in the building where bricks are missing. Some say that they would give you a free drink if you brought a Keble brick to The King's Arms.
Exeter, the college I'm at is one of the most central colleges in the town. We're right off the High Street, next to the covered market, and other major shopping areas. The benefits are that we walk out of our door and are immediately near something to see or do. Unfortunately, for rooms facing the street, the pubs can get quite noisy at night especially for staircase 15. Since we aren't within the college, walls, but out on the street, we hear quite a bit of shouting and singing late at night from the pubs.
However, staircase 15 was spared the hubbub of this morning. Apparently an insect flew into the smoke detector and somehow set it off around 4 am. Everyone in the first 14 staircases had to stumble out in their pajamas.
I'm having trouble with my card reader, but promise to get some photos up this weekend!
Last night seven of us hit Eagle and Child and then Lamb and Flag, I'll have to give my full view of those later  in some sort of pub master post.

A Yank in Oxford: The First 36 Hours

I'm actually surprised how quickly I'm getting over my jet-lag. I forced myself to stay awake until ten o'clock last night (after arriving yesterday morning). Arriving wasn't so bad either, though I did doze off on the train, I woke up before my stop.
So far, I've already taken a few walks around the city and have seen several of the other colleges. We went on a "Pub Walk" to two pubs tonight, I tried a half of some of the local beers. This afternoon I bought books at "The Last Book Store" where all the books are two pounds-- I'm afraid that shop will make me go over my luggage weight allowance very quickly. Then another student and I went to the Bodleian and didn't have time for a tour, but went to the Divinity School and the tea shop.
I feel morally obligated to drink all the tea I possibly can while in England.
Similarly, I feel obligated to take in some Shakespeare while I'm here. There are several productions going on at the moment, so I should make at least one.
I did also try marmite at breakfast this morning. A savory yeast paste on my toast? Odd. Takes some getting used to. I might like it on something else, or in something, it's very strong on its own.
Anyway, I'm swooning over all the old buildings, taking dozens of photographs which I'll upload later this week, and just generally getting the lay of the land so far.

Countdown to Oxford: Misconceptions

One more week stateside, so I thought I'd collect the best, or rather the worst misconceptions about Oxford, England, and Europe in general I've heard over the last few months.
Now, I have plenty of really intelligent culturally aware friends, but sometimes they say things that are ridiculous or not properly thought through. They sometimes realize it shortly after they've said it. A few of these comments were made in earnest, by some less culturally aware friends and acquaintances, which does make me question American education.

"Will you have the internet in England?"

"It's not like England's in Europe."

"You're going to be so close to everything, you'll have to take a day to go to the Swiss Alps."

"Oxford, London, what's the difference?"

"I've been telling everyone about your trip to London."

"You do know that everyone in England hates Americans, right? It's a good thing you're not going to France, they really hate us all."

"You'll have to go to Paris on the weekends, it'll be like, an hour away."

"It'll be all chicks at Oxford, right? I mean it's a girls school."

"Are you going to go to the palace? Can you have tea with the Queen there?"

I'm always afraid of sounding snotty when I correct people. I've given up on trying to persuade everyone that I'm not spending a month in London as they all seem to think. It's true that on the whole, the countries in Europe are much smaller than the US. England is only about the size of my home state, Pennsylvania. It still takes eight or nine hours to get from one corner of the state to the other, so I don't know why history and geography classes haven't given us a more clear understanding of spacial relationship between the countries.
As I've said before, I consider all the people who made these statements to be sufficiently intelligent, so I blame it on the weird US-centric bubble around our education that leads to these "ugly American" misconceptions.

Countdown to Oxford

So, I'm less than two weeks away from departing for foreign shores.
I have my passport, my luggage, my required reading, my rain coat, and a heart full of hope. About a month ago I started getting nervous about my trip, started feeling very apprehensive. I think it was just because there's been so much waiting. I found out in March that I would be taking this trip. Initially there was plenty to do: arrange for course credit, apply for financial aid, get my passport, plenty to do. After all that, there was nothing to do, but wait. It was the waiting that was anxiety producing.
Now that I'm close enough to do other preparations, the anxiety has faded.
I have so many things I want to do and see while I'm in England. Three weeks is not going to be enough. Most of my time will be spent at the university, though there's plenty to see around there (Bodleian Library, Christ Church Meadow, the Eagle and Child). On the weekends I'll be able to stray from the boundaries of Oxford. I likely won't spend any time in London, except to catch a train, but with the Olympics coming to town the week after I arrive it will be crowded and covered in too much bunting anyway.
I'll have to go back to the UK at some point. I don't just want to see more of England, I want to see Scotland, Ireland. Of course, my trip might be disillusioning, I may not like the UK as much as I think, but I have a feeling I will. My professor told me I probably won't want to come home.
Maybe I'll become like Henry James or T.S. Eliot and adopt Britain as my home and muse.
Lately though, finding inspiration hasn't been a problem. I've been working constantly and steadily on a new story while jotting down the occasional note about another idea. I also have the manuscript for my mystery novel back from my Professor with some notes. She really enjoyed it and that gives me so much confidence. When I finish my next draft, she said she will proof it for me before I start sending out queries for it. Her encouragement and belief in it being publishable are such a help to me.
I do spend much of my "writer time" alone at my desk or in a coffee shop. It's nice to share and get feedback from others. I look forward to being in a group of other young writers at Oxford. Hopefully I can make some connections to find and give support. The tutors should be a big source of support as well, they are all in writing fields and the small group sessions will hopefully make for a cozy atmosphere.

The Great Book Swap 2012

I'm having trouble finding a few books I need for my Oxford reading list so I have a proposition for my lovely friends of the blogosphere. Let's swap! I have quite a few books (I'm sort of a book hoarder). Here are the books I'm looking for:
-Between the Acts by Virginia Woolf
-An Imaginary Life by David Malouf
-Heart of a Dog by Mikhail Bulgakov
-Time's Arrow by Martin Amis

My only requirements are that the book be in decent condition and be in English!
You can let me know what kind of books you like and I'll see what I have. If I don't have a book you want I could always trade you some of my homemade soap instead.
Or, instead of a swap we can do a sort of "book chain." When I finish the book, I'll pass it on to the next reader who wants it.
So, any takers? You can leave a comment or email me at odessadenby@gmail.com

The Writing Life

I'm on summer break at the moment. Right now I'm scoping out new locations to write in, cheap and cozy are preferable, and a tolerant staff who'll let me nurse a green tea for an hour while I scribble are an absolute necessity. Right now I'm figuring out what to do with my novel.
There are certain moments in my draft that I think were just to get me to the next plot point. With limited time to work with I didn't have the leisure to fully unpack and sort through more difficult plot conundrums. With my outline fairly complete, I knew where I had to get to, so in some cases I just hurried up and got there. Now that I have some time to look back over the piece as a whole I know where there are weak spots and where I need to work on the plot.
I also had a brain burst the other day about the structure of the novel. I would actually love to incorporate some of the sketches I've been making for the prequel into the story. However, I wonder if that would unnecessarily complicate the book. Part of me thinks it would really add something to it and perhaps even make the focus more on the relationship between the characters which is my intent. If instead of just hearing vaguely about how the two met, we saw it. We saw the people they were before they met and then we can see the difference they've made in each other.
I'd like to try it. I'm still waiting to hear back from my professor about her thoughts on my manuscript. Part of me is terrified that she is tactfully working out a way to tell me it's not very good. Mostly though I'm just a little impatient. I never share unedited work, so I'm very curious to know what she thinks about the book and what she'll think about my new ideas.
For now I'm planting in the garden and trying to do some work on new stories. A magazine feature I wrote will be in a magazine the end of this month, so some money will also be coming my way. That is a blessed relief: my account has been cleared out to pay for my England trip so I'm almost entirely without cash.
Now I'm starting on my reading list for Oxford and daydreaming about European travel. Daydreams are an inexpensive luxury that make life much more bearable.

Coming to an End and a Beginning

I'm officially done with classes. All that is left is one final and I am free for the summer. Oxford is less than three months away. I have to book my flight (almost immediately), get a new suitcase, and start working my way through the reading list they sent me. I'm not going to lie, I've been using my forthcoming trip to justify marathoning episodes of Inspector Lewis. Hey, it's set in Oxford and I believe much of it is filmed there.
I also tried a European style beer with a higher alcohol content the other night and ended up with the worst heartburn of my life. I'm am not fit for pub crawls apparently. I'm fine on wine and American beer, but not European beer. Alas. At least there is little chance of my becoming a drunken wastrel ambling about England and neglecting my studies. There was never much chance of that though. Many of my friends couldn't seem to understand why I was going abroad over the summer to actually study. ("You're actually planning to spend your time in classes?")
Last week I surrendered my manuscript to my advisor. Already I'm thinking of the million little and not so little things I need to change about it once it's back in my hands. Before I turned it in I gave it a once over for major mistakes and fixed my chapter numbers (they got a little wonky along the way). Now I'm thinking back over that reading and simply analyzing how my story works out, trying to put myself in the reader's point of view. I actually feel embarassed by one plot device now that I've thought about it. It needs to go and be replace by something that uses my character's brains more than her feminine wiles.
Ugh, I wrote it under the influence of insomnia and deadlines, that is my only defense. I feel like she comes off as too manipulative and calculating, but also too confident and experienced in her dealings with the opposite sex. It's just all wrong. I hope my Professor isn't totally put off by it.

A Yank in Oxford 2012

I've recently been accepted to a summer writing program at Oxford University. Reactions to this news have been varied. Many fall within "Oh my gosh! I'm so happy for you!" A few have said, "I hate you." I don't think they really meant it. One reaction was a slightly alarmed, "You're not moving to England are you?" And one met my news with a rather disappointing "So what? Isn't that like saying 'Mom, I got into summer camp?'"
I take the last remark with a gigantic grain of salt. She didn't even know what Oxford was, not really. In fact, it was a fairly comprehensive application process involving writing samples and recommendation letters as well as the standard transcripts and such. Not to sound defensive, though I certainly felt a bit defensive when she initially said it to me.
Now I'm just trying to get scholarships and other monies together. Then I can start worrying about booking flights and such. I won't be leaving until fairly late in the summer, the end of July, so I have a bit of time. I have a full list of things I need to do in preparation so I won't forget the little things. This will be my first trip out of the country and I want it to go well.
My father made me watch Taken last week, but I can't honestly see myself being stupid enough to give all my information to a stranger, nor can I realistically see myself attracting the attention of a teenage prostitution ring.
So, intrepid followers, here's what you can expect from me over the next few months as this event looms in my future.
1) It is my resolve to do the background reading like any good English major. Oxford has been one of the most frequently used settings for murder mysteries in Europe. That certainly suits my interests. I intend to read and watch as many stories set in Oxford as I can get my hands on. Suggestions are welcome!
2) A travelogue when I do cross the pond, so you can live vicariously through me. That's what my father told me he planned on doing anyway.
3) Pretty pictures of places I stay and visit. I just have to get a new camera card reader before I leave.
Now, I have just a few people left to tell. Specifically some family members that might not be thrilled at the prospect. I'll just have to bring out my salt shaker again.