Dead but Dreaming

One of the most challenging aspects of being a working writer is dithering. Shilly-shallying. Not being able to decide. Is this story done yet? Should I revise it for a tenth time? When do I stop writing fiction and get back to non-fiction? And all of this has to be decided for a mere half-hour of writing time a day.

I’ve neglected this blog a little because I’ve been finishing up a non-fiction book. To no one’s greater surprise than mine, an editor at Penguin is actually reading it. You just never know. Meanwhile novel number seven has been demanding my attention. One through six haven’t been published yet either.

Don’t forget the children. Stories. Lots of stories. Some days three or four story ideas crowd into my head at a time. And I only have half-an-hour to write. Decisions, decisions!

I’d pretty much decided to turn back to non-fiction for a while when I had an unexpected email. A publisher actually wants to see the whole manuscript of my Medusa novel, Interview with the Gorgon. For those who haven’t read my past posts, this novel was under contract with a publisher about six years ago. Then they dithered.

The editor who’d accepted it for publication left the press. They decided they didn’t want to do it. No kill fee. No thank you. Just “my name is no.” Funny thing about it is, since then many presses—after I went out and bought their books just so I could make comparisons—also said “not for us.” Getting this email was completely unexpected.

I used to be a professor at Breck University. Now I profess nothing. I work for a faceless corporation in New York City that publishes non-fiction books. Getting to and from work takes three hours a day. Sleep takes a few, too. Writing is the orphan child of my time.

I’ve never given up on Medusa. I’ve never given up on this blog. To read me is to love me. Even if your name is no. If only I could make up my mind.

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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

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