Creative Non-Fiction

One of the tropes rife in the editorial world, regarding non-fiction, is “this should be an article instead of a book.” This is a very disappointing thing for an author to hear. After all, s/he spent years developing an idea into something long enough to be called a book, only to have it suggested s/he should cut it down.

I write fiction, and I love to do so. Once I’m in the world I’ve imagined, it is difficult for me to break away. In my day-job, however, I have written, and continue to write, creative non-fiction. I recently managed to get one of these pieces up to 60,000 words so that I could call it a book. A friend suggested maybe it should be an article instead.

This is the dilemma of the writer seeking publication. You have to meet the expectations of a publisher. Nobody knows the piece as well as the author, and it hurts to cut organs away—body parts that your mind organically grafted into the body of your work.

Creative non-fiction, it seems to me, is easier to sell than fiction. The common misperception is that anyone can dash off fiction. “Just make something up.” Good fiction, however, is just as hard as non-fiction. Probably harder. It’s definitely harder to publish.

This week I sent out a creative non-fiction piece to a journal. It will be weeks, perhaps months, before I hear back. I’ve done this before, and often with success. I’m still nervous, though. If it’s not enough for a book, maybe it won’t be enough for an article?

Writers, I’m told, must have thick skin. Many of us who write, however, do so because we feel deeply. Feeling deeply and thick skin aren’t natural corollaries. I’ve already accepted that I don’t know whether it’s a book or an article that I’m writing. Do I have to accept than it’s not publishable too?

Comments

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. When you’ve been writing for half a century, you l

Neglectful Parents

If I was a parent I’d be accused of neglect. I have to say 2017 was the least published year of recent memory. Not that I’ve been neglecting my fiction, but I had a non-fiction book accepted and I work full-time and commute to that job—you get the picture. I’ve also had a personal epiphany. If you can write, you should get paid for it. I know a publicist (not my own; I don’t have one) and she says she won’t let her authors even write an op-ed if they don’t get paid. I guess I’d never get published then. My Medusa novel had a flicker of hope for a few moments. A publisher actually wrote back asking for the rest of the manuscript. That’s never happened before. Then the editor disappeared. Even called me by the wrong pseudonym. I’ve gotta wonder about that because the second half of the novel’s even better than the first. While looking for an agent for my non-fiction (couldn’t find one of those either) I came across several who said they liked quirky ficti

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,

K. Marvin Bruce

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