by Jerome du Bois
According to downtown grant-grubbing gallerist Cindy Dach, Writers' Bloc Phoenix was realized at the beginning of this year. That is, the all-important House (Sixth Street Studios) was finished:
Writers’ Bloc is located in a 1200-square foot California bungalow style house with wrap around porch and small yard. There are three rooms that have two desks each and one room with one desk. Desk space is reserved weekly. The community space has comfortable chairs and tables for additional quiet workspace. Gallery space can be reserved for exhibits and community space can be reserved for workshops and seminars. Bookshelves have references books and lockers are provided for storage. The kitchen has a full-size refrigerator, microwave, oven and dining table. There is one bathroom. Desk space is reserved online.
Writers' Bloc Studio Space for Writers is a Phoenix, Arizona U.S.A. area writers collective that provides emerging and established writers, working in all literary genres, with quiet and affordable workspace in downtown Phoenix. In addition to workspace, Writers’ Bloc offers wireless Internet, printer, community workspace and occasional use for workshops and seminars on subjects of interest to writers.
So in January, I guess, writers began applying clamoring at the electronic doors. Today, six months later, June 16, 2005, these are the members of WB:
Greg Esser -- co-founder of WB, Dach's husband
Cindy Dach --co-founder of WB, Esser's wife
Amy Silverman --associate editor of Phoenix New Times
Amy Young --local gallerist and writer
Deborah Sussman Susser --local writer and . . . something
Nadine Kachur --no information
Maggie Lineback --local television producer
Kevin Vaughan-Brubaker --aka Transonic. Poet, musician, actor. Works for Arizona Commission on the Arts.
Rebecca Love --no information
Steve Jansen --local freelance writer
Ten members. Subtract the two founders, and you've got eight people who will pay $100 per month to hang out at this house and write the living ass off a thing. Big turnout. Still, how many do you need? That's $800 a month clear income to E&D, and with their own contributions, I'm sure they meet their monthly lease payment, including wireless access. Suhweet. Any new members will be gravy, baybee.
Why sit at home alone writing, where you have the most control of your environment, everything within reach, when you can drive downtown, park on the street, lay your money down, lug your laptop into the house, say hello to everyone, get set up, get a cup of coffee if there is any, talk to Cindy, talk to somebody, go back to the desk, get connected, get interrupted, head down to the bathroom, have to wait, talk to Greg, end up on the porch . . .
Cindy Dach said in January:
Why a home office isn't always enough: Home is a great place to work, but I think sometimes if you don't know other people working,[?!] and the dishwasher needs to be emptied, you do that instead. Here, there's no dishwasher to empty.
Well, hell, sign me up, I just fell off the turnip truck! (How long does it take to empty the dishwasher? How long does it take to craft a sentence that brings you to your knees in gratitude?)
Who cares if she can hardly speak English? This is Cindy Dach in the same interview:
Who's welcome to join: I like to say serious writers, which means anybody who wants professional space to work in. I would love to see novel writers, journalists, play writers, even people who do poetry.
Well, she gets one right. Correction: novelists, journalists, playwrights, even poets. (Note: no humorists.) And a lot of poets not only do poetry, they even write it. But not anywhere near this website.
Both Catherine and I have scoured the internet for some real writing --any writing-- by most of these people, and there's nothing. Most telling, of course, there's none of it on their own blog, where one would most expect to find stories and poetry and essays by the members. Or links to them. For example, NT reports that Dach "contributes to national and regional magazines." Rilly? Well, they must have zero online presence, or else she is contributing letters or filler.
Hey, kids! [Knocking on door.] What are you DOING in there?
Right now there's exactly one entry on the home page. We think we know several reasons for this state of events, all depending from the multiple puns of bloc.
Bloc, a French word from French politics, refers originally to a disparate group of people formed temporarily for a common purpose. Coalition would be the grander, international term. I use it here to point to the political aim of these people, which is to squeeze money out of any and every grant-giving agency that sticks its head up. Right now on the website, under the heading "Writing Workshops," only a lonely announcement appears about future workshops. "Check back for updates!" Don't hold your breath. But under "Special Events" they hot link to
The Grant Institute's Grants 101: Professional Grant Proposal Writing Workshop will be held at the Arizona State University (Phoenix), June 15 - 17, 2005. All participants will receive certification in professional grant writing from the Institute.
Well, it's a fact that Greg Esser can scam the ass off a grant --he's been doing it since Denver-- so they've got the right operator at the dials for that purpose.
Nonexistent workshops after six months of existence. I think workshops are crap --more sponging and bullying-- but if you're going to advertise them, follow through. And no writing on a writers' blog? It makes no sense unless you're just operators working the dials.
The French word means block, the noun, a solid thing like a battering ram that can jam legislation through all resistance; no daylight, no cracks to exploit. But that block can also block the passage of --create a blockage for-- any light or progress. These blockheads surely don't leak a word of their creativity, their projects, not even a two-line poem, to the public. (What, you have to go down there and listen to them? Well, that's a tell.) Hardly any of them have blogs or websites or even online resumes. You can't read their stuff, by yourself, at home --you know, like a reader. On an internet where thousands share their hearts, not a electronic peep from these privileged ones. You know why?
They want to be paid.
Stop laughing, it's true. They think their words are gold, and they won't let you see a single one until they get money for it --in advance.
Again, Dach in January:
Why Writers' Bloc matters: As the arts are growing in Phoenix, it's important to make sure it's not only about visual artists. It's important that writers, dancers and musicians are involved.
Translation: Give us money, too.
Meanwhile, we've posted almost 400 pages of living prose, including a novel-in-progress (be patient).
A final interpretation of bloc would be the verb "to block" --meaning, there are gatekeepers at this clubhouse. You need to be vetted by The Special Ones. In other words, it's about strong people who want power exploiting the present weakness of people for the warm, fuzzy comfort of what they sell as community. BS. This is just an extension of the after-school writers' club at Sweet Valley High, or Hill Valley College.
Dach "teaches a writing group for high school girls called Fems With Pens." Pens? Why not, as Catherine suggests, Quills for Grrls? Also, while we're at it, notice that it's "Cindy," not the more musical and dignified "Cynthia." Which just about fits the tiny paper-doll outline, just asking for it, that you display on your website, Ms. Dach. You're 38 years old. Grow up!
For the members, they get to pretend to be writers; but more importantly, collectively, they get to belong, to blend in, to go along, to be fuzzy, to, oh, "benefit from the experiences of more experienced writers," and to pay a minimum of $700 for six months. Astounding. Just because someone won the $200 Schmucknoodle Prize for a 600-word essay does not amount to a hill of beans in a world where I can do better in my sleep.
For the founders, it's about power, and pushing others around, and some easy money, as usual:
What Dach has learned from the first collective she started, eye lounge: Being able to look at the group of people sort of with a bird's-eye view and seeing people's strengths. This is a small, private space, and the truth is, there's not going to be room in here for a competitive person. You want a competitive nature within yourself, but you don't want that person running around and knocking on everybody's door.[my emphasis]
I hear the voice of the alpha bitch.
This crew will probably get a grant or two from the new Phoenix Artist Storefront Pilot Program. Five grand at least, maybe as much as fifteen. Money ill spent. Pearls before swine.
They'll just write more grants.
Why do I write? Why does Catherine? We can't help it. We have to. Partly because of the way we're made, constantly wanting to make sense of the world, and partly because of the ways we've been bent, broken, and had to bootstrap ourselves back to reality, we know we're on our own; we know we have to grab every day by the biceps and wrestle it down.
Crazy is a place: you go, you come back. When you go, nobody wants to know; when you come back, they want to read all about it. We two have to know what we are trying to say to ourselves and to others. That's why we write.
By comparing our life's experiences, Catherine and I know we have always been outsiders.
By reading others --I mean thousands-- we know our thoughts are not of the common type, but run against the winds of convention, and are therefore worth nourishing.
By practice, one hones one's words for future use.
Why are we giving it away? Because I believe our ship will come in. When La Pionera and the New Mango is finally polished it will glow with undeniable fire. In the meantime, we are full of ideas. Hell, we even give them away. We'll put The Collective I or Furthur The Backward Bus up against anybody else's mojo. Our Bentley Projects installation, American Gothic, profoundly elegiac, would have been an important notch in American Historical Art, if only they had been serious from the beginning. No matter in the long run. The important points are these:
Just Show Up.
Show Your Work.
Show Your Hand.
Show Your Name.
Every Word Flesh.
Posted by Jerome at June 16, 2005 06:45 PM | TrackBack