K. Marvin Bruce

This year marks the 400th anniversary of William Shakespeare’s death.  Like most kids in high school, I found Shakespeare tough going, but I didn’t despise the Bard.  What always amazed me is that one man’s work had lasted so long. We went through one of the standard curricula for reading Shakespeare: The Merchant of Venice , Julius Caesar , Hamlet , and MacBeth .  We memorized the famous speeches and learned the words and phrases he gave to our language. While involved in a romantic relationship after college (where no Shakespeare was required), I decided to read Romeo and Juliet on my own.  I was surprised that I didn’t need to use the notes as much as I recalled.  Reading, I suppose, helped fill in some of the blanks. I have wanted to read more Shakespeare over the years.  A Midsummer Night’s Dream , The Tempest , and others that I had missed.  This year, however, I decided to begin with King Lear . I had known the story of K...

I recently ran across a copy of Library Journal .  Those of us who write are greatly indebted to libraries, even if we never sell a story. Much of my childhood involves memories of trips to the library.  The smells, the tacky texture of books constantly handled, the quiet.  They stay with me. While thumbing through the Library Journal , it struck me that I'd never heard of many of the publishers advertising there. I thought of how hard it's been to find publishers for my own work, and I realized it's a lot like the story of the perfect lovers. You know the one. The story where lovers that we, as readers, know belong together, but the author (cruel lot that we are) keep them apart.  Romeo and Juliet is only one such scenario. Publishers need content.  They crave writers who are steady, dependable producers of good material.  Some of us write every day and have done so for decades.  Publishers don't notice us. For our part, as wri...