Skip to main content

Too Much Writing?

 Has this ever happened to you?  Have you written a story that you’ve completely forgot?  Not only completely forgotten, but made unfindable?  I play games with my stories and sometimes the joke’s on me.


Okay, I suffer from graphomania.  I write constantly.  I do try to keep organized—I use a spreadsheet that has all my submissions on it.  It has rejection/acceptance dates (mostly rejection).  Lots of information.


I decided to list on it every story, whether finished or in process.  There are far too many (mostly in process).  When I finish a story I often submit it.  If I get burned, I’m shy about resubmitting.  I often rewrite at this stage.  Then, when I feel brave enough, I try again.


The spreadsheet is color-coded.  There, in the color that indicates finished and ready to submit is a story cryptically titled “The Password.”  I don’t remember this story.  I can’t recall what it was about or why I thought it was ready to publish.


Looking through my electronic files, there’s no project by that name.  Even my electronic files are scattered all the fuck over the place, so I have to check lots of spots.  Nowhere.  No story or folder titled “The Password.”





What was I thinking when I put it down on my ready to publish list?  It couldn’t have been that long ago.  Why can I not remember writing it?


Maybe if I could spend more time on my writing this wouldn’t be an issue.  Much of my writing time is devoted to nonfiction.  I seem to get that accepted for publication more easily.  But, like John Lennon, I want to be a paperback writer.


There’s over 160 stories on my spreadsheet, and that’s not all of them.  It doesn’t include, for instance, those written by hand.  For years I tried to do that, but then didn’t have the time to type all of them up.  They’re sitting in the attic.


“The Password” was electronic, I know.  And when I find it, I have the feeling it will unlock everything.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Pacing

A criticism that I’ve occasionally received concerns pacing.  The short story, which today means up to about 7000 words, is a limited amount of space to establish mood.  My writing partner Elizabeth was reading a Poe short story recently and commented on how long it seemed. We’ve been accustomed, by the internet, to shorten things.  Flash fiction is in.  Say it in 1000 words or less.  What’s the correct pacing for a 300-word story? I’ve been editing a number of my complete, but unpublished, stories lately.  I’m trying to bring the word counts down.  I don’t want to be thought of as a plodding writer.  At the same time, I’m no action writer.  My stories are thoughtful. Some time ago I started reading Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire .  Dark, moody, and sensuous, this is a slow-paced novel.  Focusing on subtleties and emotions, she paints a writerly picture of the inner life of the undead. If I were an editor to...

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...

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...