Writing Update

One thing I try not to do in my posts is apologize for not posting because I have been busy.

I am all but done with Narrative Journalism, having finished my long-form piece on beer and brewing in Ithaca. Right now I am looking to get it published somewhere, so I should probably stop posting extracts online. But I can't help myself. Here's the lede paragraph:

Tell me, O muse, of the drink of many flavors,
That’s traveled far and wide and drunken drinkers of old.
Many are the men whose hearts it heartened and speeches it slurred.
Pale ale to pitch-black porter, lightest lager to richest imperial stout,
I seek beer, served in pub and bar and brewed in home and brewery.
Through my own folly I fail, fool, drinking without discerning,
As though Dionysus himself kept me from learning.
Of these things, fermenter of imagination, tell me,
In my search for perfect beer in snowy Ithaca.

That's what it's all about, in a barley husk.

Previous chapters:
Trappist Westvleteren
Beer, in a Barley Husk
Driving to the Ithaca Beer Company (Excised from the final draft)
Trivia at the Nameless Bar (Significantly cut down in the final draft)

I was talking with a friend yesterday about how well all the pieces are turning out. It is amazing how much improvement comes with four years of writing. And as much as I love to lambast The Ithacan - for its rowing coverage [except for the women's team, which has a great reporter covering them this year], accent section, and pretty much anything else that catches my eye - I encourage everyone to pick up an issue next week, which will have a special insert of select narrative pieces produced in Narrative Journalism Workshop. Perhaps even mine.

At this point this post has been mostly about me. Allow me to direct you, then, to "Homebrewed Beer," the blog of a man I watched brew as part of my Narrative piece. He posts a recipe and detailed analysis for every beer he brews. It's pretty awesome.

Besides an eight-page research paper for my Biblical Interpretation class, the last bit of writing for the semester is my English honors thesis on the memetic use of "apocalypse" in the environmentalism movement. I am taking a look at the way environmentalists write about this "environmental apocalypse" and what it says about their outlook. Right now I am working on a section tentatively titled "Polar bears and other native populations."

Essentially the second semester of my senior year has been dedicated to combining my passions: beer and journalism (and poetry), reading and communications and writing and religion. After writing about what everyone else wanted me to write about for years, I feel very fortunate to be able to write about what I want. Hat tips to professors Twomey and Schack. Actually, what I just wrote is not entirely fair. Big hat tip to professor Cohen for inspiring me to blog and thereby continue writing about what I want to write about. Thank you all.

And if you've made it this far, thank you for reading

Trappist Westvleteren

My search for the perfect pint continues. Excerpted below is a section from a piece I am working on for my narrative journalism class on beer and brewing in Ithaca. Previous excerpts can be found at the bottom of this post.

...Around this time I take my search for the perfect pint online out of sheer desperation. The ones I’ve tried are good, even great, but not quite what I am searching for. Countless online resources claim to have found the holy grail of beers, and the search can be quite similar to a wine connoisseur searching for an elusive bottle. I stumble upon the website of what is arguable the world’s finest beer, Trappist Westvleteren, brewed in small batches by Belgian monks in a centuries-old tradition. I decide to forego this beer upon reading the instructions for buying a crate:

1. Fly to Belgium and rent a car. You will need the car’s license plate number to be allowed into the abbey.

2. Check online for the monthly calendar giving the date and times reservations may be made to purchase a 24-bottle crate. In April, that comes to seven hours total: between 9:00 and 12:00 local time on April 8 to purchase three crates of Trappist Westvleteren 12 and between 10:00 and 12:00 on April 13 and 14 to purchase two crates of Trappist Westvleteren Blond.

3. Call up the abbey of Saint Sixtus of Westvleteren to make said reservation (+32 (0)70/21.00.45). You will wait in a long phone queue, and your call might not even be answered. You will need to specify the time you come and the license plate number of the car you will be driving. One order per car per telephone number (they check!) per month.

4. Drive to Donkerstraat 12, B -8640 Westvleteren. Beer may be picked up at a specified time Monday through Wednesday, 2:00 to 5:00 p.m.

5. Pay 38 euros for a 24-bottle crate of Westvleteren 12 (28 for the Blond) plus a 12-euro deposit. (About $68 total or $2.83 a beer. Not so bad if you don’t count the flight, car rental, and accommodations in Belgium).

6. Enjoy, or age in a cool cellar to perfection. And no reselling. Not that you would buy a few cases and resell the bottles at over 1,200 percent markup. Nor would you send it to your buddies through the mail. That’s illegal. And God just might be keeping track of his divine suds.

Is it worth it? For some, no doubt. But is it perfect?

Previous Excerpts:
Beer, in a Barley Husk
Driving to the Ithaca Beer Company (Excised from the final draft)
Trivia at the Nameless Bar (Significantly cut down in the final draft)