Morro Fort was begun in 1539. It’s actually the second fort the Spanish built in Puerto Rico. The first one was taken over several times by other countries, so they began this fort to keep better control of this particular Rich Port. And this fort is made for war–even more than they usually are. It’s a very logically laid out place with lots of little staircases and corridors and tiny entryways for soldiers to quickly get to their killing posts. Walking around, you can imagine the life of these soldiers living, breathing, and practicing war. I wonder how many of them had to fight, and if those who didn’t were disappointed?

Pictures:

One of four sentries

Old cannon

Wider part of the fort

No Kyle don’t eat those!

The oldest part of the fort

A gutter, which was also wide enough for a man to crawl through

The inside of the main courtyard

The ocean

(Note: If you know where my gallery is, I have uploaded photos.)

The interesting part of my trip to Puerto Rico started at our layover in Florida with a space shuttle launch that we could see out of the plane window, and continued from there. It was a clear day and I had never seen water like that from a plane before. It was all kinds of colors–turquoise, cerulean, pale green–and kept washing up on little islands, like so:

When we landed, I saw a stray dog and her puppy hopping along by the side of the runway. Truly, Puerto Rico lives up to its cheesy moniker “island of enchantment.” It’s beautiful, the people are great, and there’s lots to do. I was not at all disappointed, even though it rained the first couple of days.

We stayed in Old San Juan. It is the original city that was built off a Spanish fort that sits on the top of the island. The old town reminded me of a cross between New Orleans and Italy, only with brighter colors. In fact, Puerto Rico is the only place where I have seen colors combined that way and not look silly. Houses can be purple and green or peach and navy blue and just blend in with the background, which was a mess of brightly colored plants and a turquoise sea.

(Street scene of Old San Juan)

Plus, the bricks on the street were blue!

We stayed at El Convento in Old San Juan, a former convent that has been converted to a hotel. I was going to write a rave review about the hotel except that at the end of the trip we discovered they are the type of place that adds $80/night in taxes, parking, and “gratuity” onto your bill. So I have mixed feelings about the hotel. It was a charming place and in the end it was worth the extra $80 a night, but I was angry that they were not more upfront about the fees and thought they were a bit scammy.

(For the record, El Convento was the only place to do anything like that. Puerto Rico is an expensive place–there are no $.25 jugs of rum like in Hunter S. Thompson’s novel The Rum Diaries–but there’s no apparent fleecing of the tourists either. People seem upfront and generally honest.)

Anyway, El Convento is a lovely place to stay. It’s a Spanish-style building with a giant Nassau tree growing in the center courtyard, so at night you can hear birds singing and see fruit bats flying around. There’s charming balconies, a tiny pool and hot tub, complimentary wine and cheese tastings every night, and a couple of decent restaurants. Our room had a balcony with a view of the ocean and a red Spanish tiles floor. Oh heck, here’s a picture:

(Kyle in our hotel room)

Despite the fees, I’m glad I stayed away from a soulless resort. While we weren’t right on the beach and didn’t have a giant pool, I later went to one of those resorts and was creeped out by how they keep you in a bubble and disconnected from where you’re staying. To me, the point of travel is to see what a place is like, not to sit by a pool and get a sunburn, but hey, to each his own…

The first day, we explored Old San Juan. Everyone there speaks good English and the people we met were super friendly–and not in a false way either. I like places where people are open and friendly, so I liked seeing Puerto Ricans singing to themselves as they walked along or standing in a big group talking.

Some of the kids were super loud. They would shout and scream as they walk along the street in their Catholic-school uniforms. The loudest group we saw were these kids playing in a fountain near the fort. They reminded me of when birds get together and start chattering in a tree, the way they get so boisterous in their excitement and joy of simply being birds in a tree. That’s what kids were like as they shouted VERY LOUDLY while playing in the fountain.

And then, the fountain went off and the kids started shouting, “La Vida! La Vida!” until the water went on again. I got the sense this went on all the time.

In the afternoon, we went to the fort (coming soon!).

So many questions here: Why is Archie proposing in a jewelry store? Why are Jughead and Betty looking in the window while he proposes? Why is Betty holding a piece of Wonder Bread to her face? Will Veronica be able to stand living with Archie’s parents while he struggles through junior college? After 65 years, how does this comic manage to still have fans?

So many questions…

Publishing is a mess. Here’s proof. Kanye West is writing a book. It is 52 pages, some of which are blank, some of which say things like “I hate the word hate!” Personally, *I* hate the trend of letting every celebrity write a book as part of their brand expansion, but this time it’s extra insulting. You see, Kanye West doesn’t even like to read.

“Sometimes people write novels and they just be so wordy and so self-absorbed,” West said. “I am not a fan of books. I would never want a book’s autograph.

“I am a proud non-reader of books. I like to get information from doing stuff like actually talking to people and living real life,” he said.

Great. So the dude is writing a book–or “writing” it, most likely–but he doesn’t read books and is even proud of his ignorance. This is depressing. I don’t blame this stupid guy for wanting to promote himself through writing. I blame the publishers for putting out his book. Back in the day, people had to at least pretend at literacy to write, but apparently that’s gone out the window now.

Bleh.

Recently I read an annoying interview in Poets & Writers with four literary agents. It isn’t Poet & Writers’ fault that the interview is annoying, it’s the agents’. They seem insincere, like they are too aware of how they sound to the reader, and in the process end up contradicting themselves.

First they say that all they care about is what’s on the page, that they want originality, the voice of that next new exciting writer. Then they say things like: “But at the same time, I do get things and think, ‘How is this like something else that has sold well?’” So when you stumble on something that is original, the first thing you do is look for something else that is like it and assign it a monetary value? That, uh, doesn’t make any sense.

Next the agents claim that they don’t care who a writer is. Heck, they don’t even read those synopses we writers struggle over. Connections, credits, who you know in the industry, who recommends you, all that is secondary. “It’s the work, the work, the work. You have to focus on the work,” they declare. Then in the next breath, they explain that they get the vast majority of their clients from referrals (you know, people who know other people who know them, i.e. connections?). So… it is all about who you know, but that’s not important to you?

But the thing that really annoys me is their attitude on short stories. Despite the number of well-reviewed and well-known short story collections out there, apparently short stories just don’t sell:

RUTMAN: We don’t really have much choice but to represent talent in whatever form it happens to come. And if it happens to come first in short story collection form, that does not make things easier, practically speaking, but it’s not in itself a reason not to do it. The climate hardly encourages it, and it’s not fun to call an editor and say, “What I have for you now—brace yourself—is a collection of short stories.” I mean, that’s like a meta-joke, I suppose, at this point. But you shouldn’t just abandon it. You know it’s going to be hard so you ask yourself, “How fired up am I about trying this?” With a story collection, that question is a good test of how intrinsically great you find it.

STEIN: It had better be super-duper-duper-duper good.

RUTMAN: Right. One of my colleagues gave me a collection not that long ago. It was sort of short, and the author had not really tried to publish any of them, and I took it home, sort of unhappily, and I ended up being like, “Oh. Okay. So this is a person who can do this.” If you feel that way as an agent, what are you going to do, say no? It just doesn’t really feel like a smart option.

STEIN: But novels are beginning to feel that way too. I mean, really—it’s like the novel is the new short story.

RUTMAN: The short story is the new poem…

STEIN: Yeah, the short story is the new poem, novels are the new short story…. It’s hard out there.

Hmm… Maybe it’s not that hard. Maybe the problem is you guys. I mean, this lady doesn’t seem to have any problem selling short stories (the video opens a new page):

I am sure these agents mean well. I am sure they are good at their jobs. It just annoys me that they seem governed by a lot of (seemingly) arbitrary rules about publishing and yet on some level they are denying that these rules control them. It’s not about the work for you folks–it’s mostly about how well the work sells. And that’s okay. That’s your job, after all, your livelihood. Just be honest about it. That’s all I’m asking.

I am back from Puerto Rico. We had a great trip. It was the first time I:

* kayaked at night
* swam in an ocean
* saw the Caribbean sea
* hiked in a rainforest
* sat in a bikini in public (!)
* toured a mangrove nature preserve
* ate tamales made out of plantains
* smoked a Puerto Rican cigar (!!)
* saw glow-in-the-dark fish
* looked at the biggest telescope in the world
* walked on streets made of blue bricks

and so on…

More coming soon after I sift through all my photos.

On Monday I leave for Puerto Rico. I was just reading up on some of the history of the island. From Wikipedia:

When Christopher Columbus arrived in Puerto Rico during his second voyage on November 19, 1493, the island was inhabited by a group of Arawak Indians known as Taínos. … The Spanish soon colonized the island. Taínos were forced into slavery and were decimated by the harsh conditions of work and by diseases brought by the Spaniards. In 1511, the Taínos revolted against the Spanish; cacique Urayoán, as planned by Agüeybaná II, ordered his warriors to drown the Spanish soldier Diego Salcedo to determine whether the Spaniards were immortal. After drowning Salcedo, they kept watch over his body for three days to confirm his death. The revolt was easily crushed by Ponce de León and within a few decades much of the native population had been decimated by disease, violence, and a high occurrence of suicide. By 1520, when Charles V issued a royal decree that collectively emancipated the remaining Taíno population, the Taíno presence had almost vanished. African slaves were introduced to replace the Taíno.

Messed up!! However, so pretty:

I hope it doesn’t rain a lot.