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.

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Dusty

My, this thing is dusty. My fans—hi, Mom!—perhaps believe me to have perished in the pandemic. No, it was nonfiction’s fault. Since the pandemic began I’ve had two nonfiction books published and have written a third. With a nine-to-five job something’s got to give. Unfortunately it’s been fiction. Well, the groundhog didn’t see his shadow yesterday, so it must be safe to come out. I shuffled away the rejection notes and began submitting again. I’ve got a backlog of weird stories and maybe some new publishers have emerged? The thing is, don’t you just hate it when you’re in the mood to submit and some lit journal has its window for submissions firmly shut? My last story, “ The Hput, ” was published about three years ago. Oh, I’ve submitted since then, but with no traction. Well, it is winter. I’ve got a lot of stories lined up. I’ve been sending them out again, dreaming of making a dime at what I love doing best...

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. ...

Creativity

Maybe you’ve noticed this too. When you step away from fiction writing for a while, your creativity becomes flaccid. I’ve had to step away from this blog for a while because I was writing my sixth nonfiction book. God, I’ve missed fiction! Now that I’ve entered that phase of waiting for publishers to respond, I’ve turned my limited writing time back to fiction. I submitted a couple of stories this week and am waiting to hear about those as well. When you’re a writer, waiting is a way of life. Opening my software where I store my fiction stories, I was amazed by how many I found. Some of them are bad—so bad that they’ll never (rightfully) be published. Some are surprisingly good and have been sitting around while I finished up my nonfic. The vast majority, however, are unfinished. Some years back I realized that when I’m writing in the heat of inspiration but don’t have time to finish a story that I need to write down where I...

K. Marvin Bruce

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