Tag: #Writer

  • I’m on a Hiatus

    July has been a busy month for me. I’ve been traveling, completing home improvement projects, and ring Summer tour guide for my kid.

    I guess what I am saying is that I’m taking a hiatus in the month of July. I’m not shutting down the blog, or stopping writing. I know that my out put is going to be infrequent until the start of August.

    So, I’m taking the pressure off my shoulders as I uphold my commitments and promises I made to my family, and especially my daughter.

    I’ll be back in about a week, and I’ll talk to the four of you loyal readers then.

  • I Took A Break From Blogging

    I took a break from blogging because I was on vacation. I think I tipped my hand to this fact when my last post was about the airlines and being at an airport. But, I actually had every intention of writing and posting while I was away. I had even set time aside in my schedule.

    But, clearly, I didn’t post anything. I felt bad about it on the first day, and then I tried to write something on the second day which never materialized, and on the third day I reminded myself I was on vacation and forgot about writing. I took two afternoons to journal, but that was it.

    Now that I am back home, I need to start up again, keep the habit going. And I was ready this morning. I had my computer open, WORD doc ready to capture the magic.

    And then I watched The Drew Barrymore Show.

    The kitchen was kind of dirty, so I cleaned it.

    I went to the drug store because we were sort of low on toilet paper, and really, nothing is worse than running out of toilet paper.

    Then it was lunchtime.

    And I promised the kid we’d go to the park after lunch.

    While at the park, I finished reading Second Place by Rachel Cusk, and I thought I should write about that. But that would take some time and I should do that at home.

    So, I wrote this. On my phone. While kids are running by me at the playground, screaming with joy and throwing water balloons. (It is a pleasant though hot Summer afternoon.) This isn’t a particular important post, but it is the post where I’m stretching out my legs, so to speak. Like a pre-season game, or a friendly match.

    Just getting back into the habit, you know.

    (Say! If this blog tickled your fancy, please consider a gracious act of liking, commenting, or sharing this post. I can’t promise anything, but the last person who did that had five years of good luck.)

  • Read the Guidelines!

    I don’t think it’s a secret that I am trying to get one of my stories published in a lit magazine. I don’t know if this is the right way to start a career writing fiction, or if there is a better way to go about it, or if there is no right way and you just got to figure it out. (I think it’s the last option.) Either way, I write and then I send the stories out to magazines, then wait to see what sticks to the wall.

    Almost every magazine says two things; please read an issue of their magazine before you submit, and please follow the submission guidelines. I have started reading some of these magazines, and I have enjoyed discovering new writers and new ideas on how to tell a story. As for following the guidelines… yeah, I still suck at that.

    In fact, I was rejected yesterday for that exact reason, even though the form letter that was sent to me never mentioned that I had failed to follow their guidelines. I thought that it was very polite of them not to mention my complete inability to follow the most basic rule they set forth. I know I was rejected for not following the guidelines because the magazine stated that it could take three months for them to respond, and they rejected me in three days. I went back to read the submission post, and that’s when I reread the rules, and realized that I didn’t follow them. Oops…

    And I know what happened. I found this magazine, and got impatient, and wanted to send out right away as it was on my mind right now!

    I feel a little silly. I should have known better. I should have slowed down, taken my time.

    Remember people, read the guidelines.

    (Say, don’t forget to like this post, or share it, or leave a comment. I got bills to pay, you know.)

  • Don’t Be a Chicken Shit

    Writer’s groups got brought up again.

    I have a great wife, and she was asking how my writing was going. I said the blog was fine, that I had submitted a story to five different publications, and writing at the library was paying off, as I was getting close to finishing a first draft on a new story. Also, I was finally making time to read again, which was making me feel better about everything.

    Then she asked me about if I had thought anymore about joining a writer’s group. I answered her honestly; I don’t want to.

    I know where she’s coming from, and it is very logical. All of our friends who are professional writers belong to, or run, writer’s groups. They all speak highly about it, and say it has helped them not only with their writing, but also with navigating the business. That and they have made some really good friends in these groups, as well.

    But I still don’t want to.

    Am I being illogical and stubborn? Most likely, yes.

    I am torn between two different thoughts, though.

    The first is that I no longer want to do things for my career that make me feel uncomfortable. See, when I got to New York, I went to everything – opening nights, parties, rehearsals, talks, feedbacks, open classes, and none of it ever helped me. What worked for me, was working hard when I got the job. But if I were to do this, join a group, then that means that I have to put myself out there. I might just be a little chicken shit about that.

    The second thought is that what I am presently doing isn’t working. Right now, I am an unpublished writer who posts a daily blog that if I am really REALLY lucky, four people will read. Come July, I have been doing this for two years, and… not much has really changed. BUT, I feel good about myself, and that’s worth something.

    So, I’m torn. Not sure what to do.

    I prefer the idea of just putting my head down and working hard. But the other one is putting myself out there.

    Balance. I have to find a balance between the two.

    Yuck

  • Knowing When to Give Up

    Lot of stuff happened this weekend; Nor’easter, sledding, digging out the car, and teaching the kid how to play UNO. Big weekend.

    Personally, the big one for me is that I came to the decision that a novel that I have been working on, on and off, for about five years, just isn’t going to work. It’s time to put it to bed, send it on its way, give it a its Viking Funeral, and so on and so forth.

    I had some big ideas about tackling male fragility and toxicity, white privilege, the social impact of a value-based economy, forgiveness, and being anonymous in a rapidly connected world. There was a lot going on there, and that might just be the problem. I liked many of the elements that I developed, including the subplot with a hermit in the woods around Phoenicia, NY, but… maybe it was never going to work.

    I really like the first chapter, and when I was thinking about it this weekend, that’s when the idea hit me that maybe the first chapter should just be a short story, and leave it at that. But to leave it at that, I need to go and do some work on it.

    I have started to feel like I don’t have enough time for all the things in life I want to do. I might not have as much time as I think. And because of that, how much time do I want to spend on things that aren’t working?

    I now see in my life that I hung around in situations that weren’t working because I was afraid of quitting. There were relationships, work situations, and even creative projects that I hung around in, even though I had that feeling in my gut that it wasn’t working, but my pride said I wasn’t allowed to quit.

    So, the novel is dead. Long Live the Novel.