Victim of Inspiration

The part-time writer has a limited supply of time. Although I try to be consistent with the piece of my day dedicated to writing, I also find myself the victim of inspiration. I mentioned in an earlier post that I’d finished four novels. I’ve begun far many more than that.

The works I abandon, like children I love, are never intended to be neglected. I write by inspiration. Writing is like having a favorite food; if you eat it every day it soon loses its intensity. Most of what I write reflects my current Muse. Apart from days when I just have to force myself, my writing is based on that charmed idea at present in my head, beguiling me with possibilities.

I’m currently working on a new novel. I began it about two weeks ago. At the time I was in the middle of another novel. Well, “middle” is a bit generous. I’d actually written the first chapter and a half, and I’m still in love with the idea. Like a wanton man, I’ll find my way back eventually and hope she’s still waiting for me.

That novel I began in the midst of a flurry of short story writing that took place in the midst of another novel that was some thirty chapters along. I can’t help but believe each of these works has promise and I can’t write fast enough to get all the words recorded for each of them.

In my fantasy world the professional writer has the luxury of taming her or his Muse. I am too indulgent to say “no” to inspiration. The only solution in sight is to write a best seller so that someone will give me the time to finish that next damned night with my current favorite Muse.

Comments

Working Through It

The thing about being a working writer is you don’t have time. Between working nine-to-five and trying to eat and sleep, and write, of course, the week is shot. Weekends are spent doing the errands that you can’t do during the week. I should probably have known better than to join a local writers’ group. Their meetings, although only once a month, are all-day affairs on a Saturday. I generally don’t have all day Saturday to spare. I work all week and I need groceries and the occasional Target run. And I haven’t yet learned to go a week without eating. This is actually the third writers’ group I’ve joined. One was not too far from home, but not terribly helpful. They met on Saturdays, but in the morning only. Nobody seemed interested in what I was writing, so I stopped going. The second one was about an hour away. They also met on Saturdays. Their big thing was having lunch together after the meeting. ...

Patterns

There’s a pattern I’m noticing. For fiction publishers. Even if you aim low you’ll find it a struggle. Part of the reason is the pattern. Lots of websites list publishers. The smaller, hungrier presses either eventually close or get to a place where they require an agent to get in. That’s the kiss of death. Although my stories have won prizes, and been nominated for prizes, I can’t get an agent interested. I’ve queried well over a hundred, so the agent route is one of diminishing returns. This too is a pattern. Back to the smaller presses. I check many lists. What I write, you see, is highly idiosyncratic. It’s literary but it’s weird. Publishers don’t know what to do with it. If a smaller press published stuff like this, I’d find it. The pattern includes writers who never get discovered. Ironically, a number of editors of fiction literary magazines (mostly online) tell me they enjoy my wor...

Creative Righting

Rejection of my writing is a rejection of my imaginative world. That’s why I was cheered by the acceptance of one of my stories this week. That makes number 31. I’ve been working on a lot of fiction lately, even as nonfiction book number 6 is going to press. The ideas are still there, and bizarre as ever, but publishing venues just aren’t welcoming. The other day I had lunch with a professor whose wife is also a professor. She just had her first novel published, and so he pointed me to her indie publisher. I went to their website to learn that they’re closed to submissions. I have to admit that my latest accepted story, “Creative Writing Club,” was probably given the green light because I know the editor. That seems like a pretty dicey way to get any notice, doesn’t it? You have to know the right people even in the low circulation world. My fiction is difficult to classify. It’s got speculative elements to it. ...

K. Marvin Bruce

Search This Blog