Skip to main content

What Am I Doing Here Anyway?

Back in 2004, I went to Odyssey.  Before that, I had had published some genre stories on internet zines (Jackhammer E-Zine was one that bought several of my stories).  I wrote a terrible* SF novel that is somewhere in one of the PODs and I should use it as kindling because I will never ever let anyone read it anyway.  I wrote another thing that paid me okay, but it is hidden and will never be found.

Then I went to Odyssey and relearned what I was doing.

Then I took a few years to get through divorce and raising teenagers and life events.

I wrote during this time.  I like to call this phase my "creepy" phase.  I have a stack of creepy stories that are looking for homes.  (Anyone?  Want some creepy stories?)

But I don't think I was ever destined to stick with creepy stories or short projects.  I love flash fiction.  I love it.  But it's not as satisfying to me as what I'm working on now, because I have fallen in love with novel writing.

Novel writing might not love me back.  Only time will tell.  And when you're writing novels, you're writing it alllll on faith.  No one is calling you up saying, hey, are you the creepy stories writer?  Because I would love it if you wrote me, oh, I don't know, a YA novel about XYZ.  They are not calling me, anyway.

But the OTHER thing about me is that I like to work on more than one project at once, because I have a lot of writing stamina but I have to fill up overnight with thoughts if I try to write more than 1000 words on one project a day.  So I'm working on two.  If I have extra left over in my brain, I toss it into flash or short stories.  I don't want to waste the stamina.

So I am almost done with YA novel XYZ and I'm halfway through with novel PDQ.  And I have a gargantuan project waiting in the wings which my awesome critique group has given me chapter by chapter feedback on.  I have another idea which I hope to put through the critique group at our fall novel workshop, if I can make it down there for it.

I prioritized XYZ and PDQ, partly because they are shorter than the behemoth and partly because I couldn't spread the handwritten pages out as easily when we were living in my sister's dining room.

And yet, I have a story coming out this week after these many years, and it is:  flash and not-creepy.  I don't think it's creepy, anyway.  (My perceptions may be skewed.)  

I plan to keep sending out the short works I have here in this pile, too.

John and I are pursuing this creative life with a lot of hard work and optimism and a LOT of realism.  We know how this works.  Hard work doesn't get you in the door.  But you can't get in the door without it, and so I work.  Hard.

*Terrible.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

This has been a very long week -- perhaps 16 or 17 days, at least. I have been offered -- and accepted -- my younger sister’s finished basement for the next year and a half. This will be a major cost-saver for me and a big help for her (she has two toddlers and is expecting a baby in August.) So that was a humongous start to the week. My other sister and her teenaged son have had to make some really hard decisions. She gave me permission to quote her: “spent yesterday at the hospital with my son. about eleven hours. sitting here writing and rewriting this entry trying to find just the right words. how to explain-- he is not healthy. he is mentally ill. he is not safe at home. none of this really covers it. so here's one image from the day. we walk into the east wing at maine med escorted by security. the very nice guard LOOKS like a skinhead but actually has incredible kindness and compassion for my snarly boy. he tells us gently that he has to check ian for weapons and sharp o...
3 comments
Read more
Life is a little tough these days. Taking a break. I will be back with more tales of grasshoppers and compost heaps and scrabble games soon.
17 comments
Read more
From the warnings in the back of the Life textbook: If one sleeps over at one’s old house to take care of one’s own kids while their dad is on a business trip, and if one is pleased with how calmly and smoothly everything is going and has gone and seems to be likely to go in the future, one should not be surprised when one’s silly dog decides to have -- oh, what should we call it? diarrhea? -- in the master bedroom on the white carpet. One should be careful not to say anything too terribly vile to the dog while scrubbing away at germy spattery spots with old white gym towels. Note: one should be especially alert to the smirking meanness of the universe. The universe has been known to send along vicious wasps to sting one on the ring finger of the left hand, causing one to nearly faint from anxiety.
1 comment
Read more