Phalluses, Flip Phones, and Judgment in a Tech World

Back in the day-like maybe 5 years ago-on a couples' date, we waited in line to see a comedy revue in Hollywood. One of the men in our party reached into his pocket and removed his cellphone. He cocked his hips forward and flipped his phone open. This triggered a reaction with more men, up-and-down the line, also flipping their phones open. They looked so manly and assertive. The women didn't take their phones out, but we all had them, of course. If flip phones had existed in ancient Egypt or Pompeii, the statues of sovereigns would have revealed them regally seated on their thrones . . . holding a flip phone in their laps like a gigantic phallus. 

Cell phones are status symbols, but it's only with the introduction of smart phones that women seem to be equally consumed with them. They're as likely as men to walk with head bowed over phone. When just standing in line, no one talks to strangers anymore. They're too busy tweeting that they're standing in line.  I don't have a smart phone.  I'm on and off my computers all day so a walk without being wirelessly connected to the world is a blessing. Plus, I like to people watch and I'm curious which of my "friends" will glance at me with pity when I pull out my . . . flip phone.

The following letter is from Peggy, a friend of 40 years (A 70's Redux). She wrote to me in response to a link I sent to her regarding my Huffington Post blog, Bullied: Diversity, Differentiation, Distinction. Her letter has no condescension when discussing technology . . . only wonder.

Sandra, 

Well I clicked on the HuffPost site. I realized that technology for me is like an octopus.  You can be very comfortable with one appendage (doing texts and using a smart phone at the beginner level), but what goes on in other appendages can make us feel like blithering idiots (envision a resident of an asylum, straight jacketed, drooling after a session of drugs and electricity to the brain!)  

The day we met at Venice beach, I got there way before you.  So I did what anyone would do.  I tried to call you to see where you were. Gerald answered your home phone and told me you don't always have your cell on! So after several attempts to contact you that day, I resorted to the old-fashioned method for coping in today's world: I sat and waited for you to show up.  What to do when you can't instantly reach your friend? Made my skin crawl as I had nothing to do till you showed up.  Oh, there was people watching.  I enjoy it.  But honestly, I felt I was so superior thinking I was so advanced cuz I USE MY PHONE CONSTANTLY THROUGHOUT THE DAYLIGHT HOURS, BUT YOU OBVIOUSLY DIDNT.  

Fast forward to this blog thing and I am right back at the idiots table.  In the old days everything on machines was obvious!  There were buttons and their functions were instantly recognizable.  We knew what each button did cuz it only did one thing: on/off, channel, volume, horizontal control, vertical control! That was it. Now you have to know the codes for each letter, number, icon before you can encode the messages and negotiate anything on technology!   

So my dear friend, I read the info about you and I have too many questions to type.  I guess I'll just have to do the old fashioned thing- and call you.  That modality still is available and it doesn't involve magical icons and codes.  

I'll try to call this week.  I must say I'm so proud to be the friend of such an accomplished author.  And Im very happy that you are working on the next installment.  Which pleases me so much.   I loved the first one and knew as I read each precious page that I wanted to spend more time with the Sandoval sisters than just one book. 

Talk soon.  Congrats.  Much love! Peg

Sent from my iPad

BULLIED: DIVERSITY, DIFFERENTIATION, DISTINCTION

In Santa Fe, New Mexico, I attended barrio schools and was bullied for my O’Briant surname. My classmates refused to believe my mom was Latina. Being a 50/50 was not easy. Diversity is a term I embrace and not just ethnically. I hate being stereotyped and having my choices restricted, not only in my life, but in the lives I create for my characters. I was very pleased when esteemed author Claudia Long invited me to be part of a blog adventure, initiated on Twitter #weneeddiversebooks and #diverselit, in which we answer the following questions:

Q. Why do you write what you do?

Most of my characters have been set apart from others in some way. A bullied child is an isolated child, and reading was my escape. Not only did it allow me to learn about other cultures, but books led me on a journey into our human past and even into the future. What I learned is that there is more that humans have in common with one another than what racially, ethnically or culturally separates us. The kids who bullied me acted out of ignorance that had been passed down for generations. I was lonely, but gained strength from my isolation; I learned to make my own path.

My first novel, The Sandoval Sisters’ Secret of Old Blood, won two literary awards. It tells the story of Anglo encroachment on New Mexico as they made real their vision of Manifest Destiny.

That’s the long way of saying that I began my historical research to answer the burning question that had so cruelly affected my youth: Why did the Latino kids in Santa Fe hate Anglos, especially Texans? 

Answering this question led to an examination of war, class, education, the role of women, religion and superstition during the Mexican American War. Santa Fe, NM, an area now known as an artistic and tourist mecca, was the first foreign capital conquered by the U.S. It had a profound impact on the people there.

The war is the backdrop for the Sandoval sisters' individual coming-of-age stories in which they cope with racism, sexism, political intrigue and the power of superstition. The Sandovals are isolated because of their wealth and education. The eldest sister, Oratoria, was a Mexican peasant (most likely of mixed ancestry) adopted into the family. The other two sisters can trace their heritage back to Spain. 

Alma runs off with a Texan and experiences racism while living with his family. She is also gifted/afflicted with the “Sandoval memories.” The youngest sister, Pilar, insists on wearing men’s clothes and working with horses. All of these family attributes set them apart from the people (la gente) in their community and make them targets when the war wreaks havoc and loss.

Over 20 of my short stories have been published. Some stories don’t have identifiable Latino characters. Against the Rules, which tells the fictionalized story of how I met my husband, does not. Personal Power does. What both stories have in common are strong voices and characters who have defied the odds or are about to defy them. Not all of my stories have erotica in them, but when they do there might be a bit of sexual fluidity, as with Pilar in The Sandoval Sisters.

Q: What are you working on?

The sequel to The Sandoval Sisters follows the next generation of Sandovals. The O’Reilly siblings, Alexandra and Phil, are orphaned and found wandering on the Santa Fe Trail. The Sandoval sisters adopt them (this part is family legend; my maternal grandmother was a Sandoval.)

Alexandra: “Their blood was not our blood, but we became Sandovals . . . they were set apart, and so were Phil and I. We played with the other children and eventually flirted with them, but we were not the same. Our Anglo last name disappeared and we became the Sandoval children on every legal document of that time, but we were not la gente. We were the children of the Sandoval witches. The community would not forget the old blood.”

Want more diversity? I’m editing a vampire novel that I sold once, but the small press went belly-up before I could deposit the check. Title:  Blood Mother.

Q: How does your work differ from others of its genre?

Short answer: there are no historical novels dealing with the Mexican American War from a female perspective (of which I am aware.) This is not a good thing. My agent got favorable responses from editors at several big publishing houses. They actually read the book and took the time to dictate letters saying they enjoyed it. The catch? Marketing. Historical fiction readers like French and English stories about royalty or the mistresses of royalty. Last on the list are American historical books. The Civil War and the American Revolution are first in line. There are exceptions, of course, but Mexicans? Puhleese . . .

Q: How does your writing process work?

When I’m actively writing a new piece, the story plays out in the back of my mind like a movie-while I’m driving, on hold, in my sleep. I see it. My job is to put it into words so that my reader can see it, too. If I get stuck, it’s not because I don’t know where to take the action, it’s in finding the best way to describe it. When this happens I usually change perspective by working out, gardening, walking the dog or switching to a short story. 

The human brain is a marvelous machine. It knows what you want it to do but for some reason the words may come out of left field. I’ll be talking to my sons or husband or at lunch with friends and in the next moment I’m scribbling on the back of an envelope or a credit card receipt.

My thanks again to Claudia Long for tagging me for this exercise. She is the author of Josefina’s Sin (Atria/Simon & Schuster 2011) and the forthcoming The Duel for Consuelo.

I’ve tagged Mona AlvaradoFrazier to continue the diversity series. She was an Amazon Breakthrough quarterfinalist for her Young Adult novel: Strong Women Grow Here

HOMEWARD BOUND: NEW MEXICO

PLAYING THE SCENE READ GAME: THE SANDOVAL SISTERS' SECRET OF OLD BLOOD

If you're in Taos or Albuquerque please come by and say hello.  Please pass this info on to your friends in the area.

TAOS, Saturday, September 28, 2013, 5:00 p.m.

Location: SOMOS Salon at 233-D

Paseo del Pueblo Sur

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ALBUQUERQUE, Sunday, 09/29/2013 3:00 pm

Location: BOOKWORKS

4022 Rio Grande Blvd NW

more>>

The Sandoval Sisters' Secret of Old Blood won First Place at the the 15^th annual International Latino Book Awards, 2013 in two categories: Best Historical Fiction and Best First Book.

I started public school in Santa Fe in the fourth grade after attending parochial schools in Texas. Mom had returned to her Gallegos roots proud of her new Anglo last name: O'Briant. It was a rough transition for me, not made any easier by my thick Texan accent cemented forever with that surname. Mom helped me dress for my first day in a cute dress, petticoat and matching patent leather shoes and purse. A ragtaggle group of kids lined up against the adobe-style wall waiting for the bell. The girls' dresses hung limp and lackluster over their ashy brown legs. One blonde boy pulled a booger from his nose and wiped it on the wall. No one laughed or teased, and everyone seemed tired. My clean hair bounced in Shirley Temple coils around my head. "Hi y'all!" They stared at me without expression and with no shared words picked up the gravel that constituted our playground and flung it at me.

This is the mortar of my making, the porous glue that stuck the last bit of iconoclast onto my isolated self. Did anyone like me?

Only the boys.