Writing Rearranged

Jo March had her red cap (before such things were tainted) and writing nook. Those of us who write also have our habits. Thing is, circumstances change.

For the first time in over a decade I’m moving house. Most specifically, I’m moving from an apartment into a house. I’ll keep my day job, but I’ll be telecommuting—whatever that is. Here in my apartment I awoke very early in order to accommodate public transportation. My writing time has been very early.

Weekends have taught me that sleeping in disrupts writing. Indeed, my freshest time is way before dawn. My mind is sharp and alert. I’m productive. I’m energetic. I’m also not as young as I used to be. One of my more self-indulgent activities is to allow myself to sleep until 5 a.m. on a Saturday.

I wake up groggy, uninspired. I sit down to write, weary already. Only with great effort can I shove the pen. I really don’t want to sleep any more, but I don’t want to write either. I must have a fever!

This makes me fear for my new lifestyle. The few people in my life say they’d like to see me keep more normal hours. Not go to bed until 9 or 10. Be better rested. Better adjusted. And what of my writing? What will become of it?

Houses with writing nooks are not easily affordable these days. My new house has a gnarly, unfinished attic. It could have enough privation to make a suitable writing space. Freezing in winter, stifling in summer. I can see myself up there amid the storage boxes, hunched over my desk, bleeding out my soul in words.

Writing is all about habits. Mine, it seems, are about to change. There’s no way I’m going to be buying a red cap. But maybe I can learn a bit from Jo after all.

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