The Canals of Mars

Last Monday, students like myself as well as professors from the English and Creative Writing Department gathered in Isaacs Auditorium to hear a reading from Susquehanna’s own Gary Fincke, head of our creative writing department and author of twenty-two books of poetry, essays, and short stories.

Sitting in a chair at the center of the stage, Dr. Fincke pressed his thumb into the uncracked spine of his new memoir, The Canals of Mars, and he started to read:

I take us through Etna to the Circle Bar (you could see it from my grandmother’s porch), but now it’s somebody or other’s sports bar, one of those places with two pool tables, a dart board, and dual televisions tuned into ESPN and ESPN2 below a display of Pittsburgh sports memorabilia and a sign advertising fifteen-cent wings during Monday Night Football. Late afternoon on a weekday, it’s deserted except for two men simultaneously watching an equestrian competition and a dog show. “You’re too late for all this,” my father says. “You should have been this interested when your mother was alive.”

Every year the Writers Institute brings in some pretty big-name authors for on-campus readings—last year I had lunch with Sue Miller, attended a workshop class guest-taught by Bob Shacochis, and sat down for an interview over Chinese food with Tom Franklin and Beth Anne Fennelly—but I was especially looking forward to Dr. Fincke's reading, a celebration of the debut of his newest book, The Canals of Mars, a memoir that explores his working-class background and his family’s view on work, religion, and weakness.

In the writing world, Gary Fincke is pretty big deal. Last year Salman Rushdie, guest editor of Best American Short Stories 2008, placed Dr. Fincke's “Isn't She Something” in his list of “100 Other Distinguished Stories of 2007,” alongside works by John Updike, David Foster Wallace, Alice Munro, and Stephen King.

Dr. Fincke’s work has appeared publications such as Harpers, Newsday, The Kenyon Review, and Doubletake. His poem “The Sorrows,” was recently read by Garrison Keillor on NPR’s Writer’s Almanac, and in 2003 he was awarded the Flannery O’Connor prize for his most recent collection of short stories, Sorry I Worried You. And he’s also won two Pushcart Prizes.

Dr. Fincke’s stories and poems are great, but it’s his nonfiction that grabs me the most. Four years ago, as a prospective student, I heard him read what is now title essay of The Canals of Mars, a reflection on growing up during the Cold War, a time when Body Snatchers, communists, and sixth-grade dropout Jimmy Mason were all very real threats.

My freshmen year, in my Intro to Creative Nonfiction class with Dr. Fincke, we looked at selections from his other memoir Amp’d, which chronicles the rise of his son’s career in rock music as lead guitarist for the band Breaking Benjamin.

Really, Dr. Fincke’s the one who sparked my interest in the whole creative nonfiction genre to begin with. He’s the professor who taught me that “creative” and “nonfiction” can actually go together in the same sentence, that essaying is actually a really satisfying way to gain a deeper understanding of your world.

So for all these reasons wrapped up together, I was excited to sit down and hear some world-class writing and pick up an autographed copy of the new book. For me, it’s opportunities like this that make Susquehanna the best place to be an undergrad creative writing major.

More:

• Hear Garrison Keillor read Dr. Fincke’s poem “The Sorrows”*
• Learn more about Susquehanna’s creative writing program by checking my other blog, Workshop
• Read Gary Fincke's full bio
• Order The Canals of Mars on Amazon
• Visit Susquehanna's The Writers Institute website for more information on our Visiting Writers Series, our summer writers workshop for high school students, our student-run magazines, and our other top-notch writing professors

*Dr. Fincke's name is pronounced "Fink," not "Finky."  Keillor is mistaken.

SU Paranormal

The meeting opened with mostly mundane stuff—talk about budget hearings and homemade cookie fundraiser results—but when the club’s VP turned to me and the three-person student documentary team who were also sitting in on this SU Paranormal meeting and asked us if we had any questions, the group began to overflow with campus ghost stories.

They talked about “No-Face Girl,” a shadowy little kid who lives (if “lives” is the right word) in Seibert Hall and watches you from the foot of your bed; a big, dark figure with red eyes who can be seen staring out the door at the end of the hallway in one of the freshman dorms; the “evil hallway” in the basement of Weber Chapel where the group once had their flashlights flicker out.

“When all you can see are the exit signs, that’s what you’re running for,” said the VP, vigorously nodding her head.

The group takes its investigations seriously.  They have a strict no practical-joke-scaring policy and insist that no one goes off on their own. They also have a no-flip-flops rule (they make too much noise).  Through the cookie fundraiser I mentioned above, they're hoping to earn enough money to take a Gettysburg Ghost Tour trip. 

And equipment is important. On walkthroughs, the group carries EMF detectors for detecting electromagnetic fields, digital voice recorders for picking up EVP (“Electronic Voice Phenomena”), flashlights for obvious reasons, and digital cameras for capturing orbs of light that can’t be seen by the naked eye.

“The strangest thing I’ve ever encountered,” said Rob, “is capturing orbs on camera in Weber Chapel.”

Orbs, however, Angie pointed out, are contested as evidence of paranormal activity because they can be caused by dust particles in the air.

Whether you believe in ghosts or not—and even the club members range from firm believers to mild skeptics—SU Paranormal is a fun group to talk to, especially if you enjoy passionate storytelling.

“I think I might have to sleep with the lights on tonight,” I said as I closed my notebook, smiling even though, honestly, their stories had raised my heart rate higher than I’d like to admit.

The VP widened her smile, ready to tell another story. “What dorm are you in?”

“I’m not telling you.”