A Little Closer

For those who care more about other parts of my life, you’ll have to keep waiting for a little while. I’m taking a short break only because I just received an email I’ve been waiting for for nearly two years.

Thanks for your continued patience.

In May 2010, I submitted a thing to a thing to be considered for publication. It was a final paper I’d written for my American Literature History class.

It is now almost February 2012. My thing has finally been reviewed by a reviewer and an executive editor, and it sounds encouraging:

Reviewer Comments to Author:
Consulting Editor: 1
Comments to the Author
This is a well-written and generally convincing reading. Several emendations might be made.

(a) Improve the opening paragraph by eliminating the first-person reference. There is no need for it here.

(b) On page 3, re-consider the first whole paragraph and its argument re: the color green. This paragraph is unconvincing. It makes too much of a single word and thus weakens the overall argument of the paper.

(c) Consider using the term ‘binaries’ alongside ‘pairs’ in order to vary word choice.

Overall this is a good close reading.

Executive Editor Comments:
Consulting Editor: 1
Comments to the Author
Very nice piece on a neglected story. I agree with the preliminary reader that the first person reference is unnecessary if not distracting. I didn’t have the same problem with the paragraph on green, however. While I see the point that too much emphasis is placed on the color, Ellison did put it there and it does connect to the earlier reference. I would recommend the author consider how he might rewrite that paragraph imagining how she might win over a resisting reader. Strengthen the argument for green as a symbol by insisting it’s not there by accident. A strong essay.

Time for a little revision. And a little (or a lot) more waiting. Being published in an academic, peer-reviewed journal would be a nice touch to my last semester.

Because I Am Now Engaged, The Only Thing That Matters in This World Is Me

I look at my ring all the time.

In French classes, which I have on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, je me demande why my ring sparkles while professors go on about composition, Louis XIV, and the upcoming election in France. We get together in groups and talk about elements of text or absolute monarchy or current events, and none of these things are as important as my ring.

In my Tuesday/Thursday English classes, I imagine the most Postmodern thing I can do is look at my ring. In my Postmodern lit class, we’re learning to expand and enrich our reading experience, but looking at my ring transcends me to another level of consciousness. In my senior project class, we’re learning about models of looking at the city in literature. The professor drew three concentric circles on the board to stand for the history of the city, the time and space needed to realize the city, and the city itself. But in those three circles, all I could see was my ring, morphed into white gold that insets a very sparkly diamond with four tiny sparkly diamonds around it.

That ring would have sparkled in 17th-Century France much more brightly than any of the kings, as well as in New York City. It would sparkle in third-world countries, especially the country where the diamond may have come from, which may or may have not been illegally obtained, which people may have died in the process of getting it to a Salt Lake City diamond dealer then to my jeweler.

But who cares about all that? Who cares about poverty and misogyny and human rights? Who cares about child abuse and inadequate health care? Let’s just say before I go to sleep at night, I close my eyes and say a little prayer to my ring, and when I wake up, I thank the ring for my many blessings. Sometimes when Reilly turns my hand to look at the ring, I accuse him of trying to steal it, but then we close our eyes and say a little prayer to it before meals.

It sparkles on my finger now. It winks approval at me.

We look at each other all the time.