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In 1998 I wrote my first novel and sent it to an agent, who read it and made
some suggestions on how to improve it (all insightful), and I told
him I would endeavor to make the changes and resubmit to him in short
order. Unfortunately, the demands of my real life took over and now it has been over a year
since our last conversation. How should I best approach the fellow in order to salvage the
situation? (By the way, the rewrite is now complete.) Kicking Myself Dear Kicking, In the fiction trade, a year is nothing. Two years is nothing. Five years is not
much. So don't kick yourself and don't worry about how to approach him. Make two copies
of the manuscript and send him one in a big manila envelope and thank him for his insightful
suggestions. And start working on your second novel. Dear Mr. Blue, Two years ago I lost my beautiful husband in a car accident. We
had been married for three years, and the first year without him
was devastating, I wandered through it like a zombie. Now things seem to have reached
a comfortable plateau, a nice reprieve from the whole nightmare.
The sticky thing is, I don't know how to be single again. I still
wear my wedding ring, and my apartment is littered with pictures of
him. A couple of months ago, after being dragged to a party by an acquaintance, I flirted for
the first time in a very long time. One man was responsive until he noticed my
wedding ring. I didn't know how to tell him that I'm a widow
without sounding spooky. The truth is, I feel that if I take it
off, then I am denying that we ever shared a life together, that it's
a sort of infidelity. I'm uncertain about how to make any romantic or social decisions at all. Lady In Black Dear Lady, You are gradually moving away from your tragedy and resuming a full life, and
you will continue gradually, as the devastation greens over and your feelings change and
leave you room. Your beautiful husband, need I say it, would want this for you. Nobody can
tell you when to remove the wedding ring: Maybe one morning you'll simply take it off,
maybe you'll have it refashioned into a pin, but don't worry about it. It seems to me (a
person who has no experience with this) that two years is a perfectly normal span of time for
grieving such a terrible loss; nothing in your letter suggests spookiness or obsessiveness
whatsoever. If you do feel uneasy about what's going on with you, look around for a caring
professional to talk to. Friends aren't much help in this situation: Grief always goes on longer
than your friends expect it to and is stronger than they can appreciate. The big step for you
was flirting with the man. Bravo. That's the sign that you've turned your face away from the
wall and are looking ahead. Good luck. Dear Mr. Blue, What advice might you have for a shy, 26-year-old woman in New York City who is having
trouble meeting eligible men? I've tried all the usual places -- church, the Internet, work -- and
haven't met anyone yet. Am I doing something wrong? Blue in Brooklyn Dear Blue in Brooklyn, I don't know about your workplace, but the Internet is full of odd guys you wouldn't want to
meet -- right-wing paranoids, various obsessive personalities, mouth breathers, guys living
in their mothers' basements, outright sociopaths --- and church is overrated as a social
beehive. Maybe it's different for holy rollers or Hasidim but among the pallid Protestants I
know, church is not what turns a young man's fancy toward romance. Church tends to make
him beat his breast for having such thoughts. You look for love and only find a lot of flat-chested men. Mr. Blue Garrison Keillor's column appears every Tuesday in Salon Books.
Feeling blue about your prose? In the doldrums over your last date? Ask Mr. Blue. You say you haven't "met" an eligible man yet, but of course you have, you've met dozens of them, passed them in hallways, brushed against them in elevators, you simply haven't acquired one yet. So don't bother about acquisition at this point, just concentrate on friendship. Too many young men and women leap from shyness to infatuation, a dangerous leap because you skip learning some basic skills you need to sustain any relationship, such as conversing, listening, negotiating, patience. Shy persons are prone to intense romantic fantasy, and it's good to bank those fires while catching up on the basics. Shyness is common, but severe shyness is a prison that one must conspire to escape from. I don't know how severe yours is, but "shy" is the only word you use to describe yourself (and "blue"). Try to acquire some male friends and slip into easygoing relationships with no big romantic overtones. Find men who make you laugh, who you can talk to and pal around with and poke when they take themselves too seriously. Look for situations where this is possible, where men and women mix easily without coupling up. Political campaigns, groups of people passionate about hiking or camping or biking, or people who are out to teach reading to ghetto schoolkids or clean up the parks or tend to the sick or achieve some other noble good. The point is not to find A Man but to be among people you like, including men, and to learn how to speak to a stranger and introduce yourself, how to demonstrate affection in simple non-erotic ways, how to be a good conversational partner in large and small groups, how to read people's moods, how to deal with their disappointment, how to be a friend and keep your independence -- all the basic stuff that makes for a mature adult life. While you are engaged in making a pleasant social life, don't be surprised if suddenly A Man shows an interest in you. And then, my dear, you'll have a whole new set of problems. Dear Mr. Blue, I write poetry and would like my husband to be my first reader, but when I show him my work, he says, "I don't understand it. Why do you have to write obscure stuff like this?" If I show him something more accessible, he chides me for not writing this way all the time. His reactions make me not want to show my work to him, but he's the man I live with, and it's his support that matters most. What should I do? Retreating Dear Retreating, You can't expect this guy to be Edward Hirsch. Criticism is a skill he
doesn't have. Some men aren't good at plumbing either, or painting, or wallpapering, so you
make allowances and call in a professional. Leave your stuff lying around where he can see
it if he cares to, and let him say whatever he wishes, but don't thrust it on him and expect a
learned opinion. On the other hand, my dear, when you get to be a famous successful poet,
people are going to ask you all the time, "Why do you write obscure stuff anyway?" or
they'll think it, so you may as well figure out what to say. And when you figure it out, tell
me. I'm not sure I know.
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