Silence of the Sheep

Writing keeps me sane. Writing drives me insane. Often the only stability that I have in a tortured world is my writing. Of course, writing doesn’t pay. Long ago I made myself a note inside the cover of my commonplace book: “whether published or not, I am a writer.”

A factor that is difficult to include in this equation is depression. Like many writers I live in a miasma of low-grade depression much of the time. It even fuels my art. I write my most humorous material when I am despondent. There is a depression that is debilitating, however, and even causes writing to become a strain.

“There is a wisdom that is woe,” Herman Melville wrote, “but there is a woe that is madness.” Yes, Herman, I have been there with you. At times it is so dark that I can only glimpse Poe or Lovecraft as my guides, distantly ahead. In the twilight we find each other.

Since being released from my contract with Vagabondage Press, I have wrestled in the grip of depression. I have never planned to make a living from my writing, but I very much would like to see it read. It is like trying to give away your soul but finding no takers. It may be cheap, but it is the best I’ve got.

Not that it stops me from writing. I continue to complete short stories and I’m in the midst of the next novel—this will make number six, unpublished. Out there is one editor who loved my Medusa story. I don’t know that editor’s name and the publisher won’t tell me. Writing must be a labor of love, for no one gives breaks in this business.

When this Damoclean cloud hangs over me I ponder how this internet has delivered the death thrust to writing. It is impossible to be found amid the endless clutter. A weak soul gasping out in not heard among the bravado of the over-confident.

Whether published or not, I am a writer. And if I find my way not from this valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for in space no one can hear you dream.

Comments

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. ...

Maybe Okay

A couple pieces of encouraging news, perhaps, dear struggling writers. I had a couple short stories accepted for publication in recent weeks. As a fellow writer recently said, “You've got to keep trying. Somebody will like what you wrote.” That’s a bit of sunshine. And it’s likely true. But the stories: “The Crossing,” about two men in a boat trying to cross the Atlantic, was accepted by JayHenge Publishing. JayHenge is a small, but paying publisher. I was flattered when they wanted it for their Masque & Maelström: The Reluctant Exhumation of Edgar Allan Poe anthology. Being associated with Poe in any way feels good. The second story, “St. Spiders’ Day,” had been brewing in my mind for years—yes, this is a long game! A friend pointed me to The Creepy podcast. Since the story hadn’t been written, I followed their guidelines of what they wanted. It worked. I recently heard a successful wri...

K. Marvin Bruce

Search This Blog