Agonies of a Young Author

If you haven't yet gleaned to what it is by all my previous ramblings (I forbear to backlink; it would take the rest of forever; just click the tag at the bottom for others) HERE IT IS AGAIN:

I AM MADLY OBSESSED WITH SEEMING "PROFESSIONAL."

Maybe it's my age, my relative inexperience, my own insecurities about being perceived as a "grown-up" or a need to be seen as a "working writer" when the label "student" is more accurate-- whatever my hangups, they translate into an unhealthy paranoia.

I think about my query letter more than the pieces I submit. (I know, this is backwards. But true.)

So it's FANTASTIC that I just got complimented on the DIRECT QUOTE "wonderful" cover letter I sent in. The editor was impressed that I tailored to the publication and read the archives both, so I guarantee that cover letter is the reason I got accepted to this publication. (YAY!!! Another new market wants to publish me!)

So I Present!
Shelly Holder's Formula to "Wonderful" Cover Letters

1) find out editor's name
2) check gender of editor- twice (website, personal website, social media sites)
3) read archives- ALL of them
4) read editor interview at Duotrope's Digest
5) re-read interview at Duotrope's Digest
6) re-read it a 3rd time
7) read website submission guidelines
8) re-read guidelines
9) read a 3rd time
10) compare with Duotrope's submission quidelines
11) start FIRST DRAFT of cover
12) personalize to market
13) mention author from archives that you identify with (legitimately! don't make this a gimmick)
14) add why you submitted to this market
15) re-read submission guidelines
16) read some of the editor's work if available
17) re-read DD's editor interview
18) re-write cover letter
19) make it polite & professional
20) send and die of brain hemorage

And then hope and pray and burn little offering of crumpled balls of bad drafts until you hear back, and try not to slowly turn into a mewling ball of despair.

I just sent out another submission last night, so I'll let you know how that last sentences goes.

But I currently have not showered, am gorging on junk food, and have a blanket over my head while watching Iron Chef America in the dark without my glasses. And there's ice cream in the freezer calling my name. YES ITS TEN A.M. DON'T JUDGE ME.

Write Now:
What I'm listening to: the wonderful narration of Alton Brown on carrot frosting
What I want most: DO YOU REALLY WANT ME TO ANSWER THIS QUESTIOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNN?

So what many of you don't know is that in the spring I was interviewed for a news article about my writing (and other, unimportant things, but we stick to writing here). It was never optioned/bought, so don't get excited.

Me? I'm not disappointed the article never ran. Or particularly surprised. Frankly, I'm even a little bit glad it didn't. Why?

The "reporter" who interviewed me was completely, scandalously unprofessional.

If I, the subject of your work, am not impressed, I doubt any editor is going to interested in your piece. Basic common sense, right?

At first, I was excited. Oh, shiny! I'm getting interviewed! But it soon devolved. The reporter had a huge lag time- weeks worth (and remember THEY contacted ME). Our first interaction is a brief email- no salutation, greeting, signature, punctuation, basic capitalization- but most horrendously....

This "professional" used "PLZ" and "THX!"

0_0

AS IF IT WAS TOTALLY ACCEPTABLE.

I'm sorry. Even if you're a 20-something, and I'm a 20-something, in a work capacity, SPELL OUT WORDS IN STANDARD ENGLISH.

Co-workers turned buddies?- check. Use all the abrevs you want.
Inner office email between said office buddies?- check. I doubt a client ever sees those.
Professional Twitter?- check. Necessary because of character count and oh so a la mode.
Texts?- check. See above "co-workers" (plus, Starbucks orders are just a hassle to type anyways)
A super hip writing blog- in balance, in context, with the right voice, and the right audience? Yeah, ABSOLUTELY!!

The first communication to establish a working relationship???

Oh, hells, no.

Actually, after that one email, I considered calling off the entire thing.

Two hours AFTER our scheduled appointment passed (a lunch meeting that just COULDN'T be interrupted) I was certain that a) this story would never sell, and b) I would never work with this reporter again.

The interview had good bones, but the story languishes.

Meanwhile, my obsessive butt is getting published! *evil twinkle* Anyone get a lesson outta that?

Write Now:
What I'm listening to: the new squeaky keyboard cover that got delivered today. It's almost typewriter-esque. I kinda like it.
What I want most: mmmm, some clothing from Urban Outfitters. And makeup from Sephora. Oh, and a pony.

AMMMMMMMMM I about to do this? I think, I think... I think I am about to commit the ultimate writer's sin. Actually, I think I'm about to commit the TWO cardinal sins of writing. I am not going to listen to my editor, and I am not killing my darlings.

(*pause for horrified, stupefied look*)

Oh man, I can't believe I even said that. I can't believe that I'm at this point. But every time I look at the proposed changes on my poem, something wells up in me- "No. Just no. This isn't what I want to say. This isn't how I want to say it. This isn't me."

I've had great revision experiences, from several sources. I really have benefited from the input, and I have learned why the advice is given, as well as how it adds to my piece. And I have been recommended by a creative writing professor, at this point in my career especially, it's better to accept revisions and get published, then revert to the original format in a later chapbook.

Yet. Yet, yet, yetyetyet.

I am not Medea, and more importantly, I am not a minimalist. My style of writing is conversationalist. I tend towards the rhythm of spoken word poetry. There are a lot of "and"s and "the"s and "but"s in my writing-- many which can be removed, but also many that I think function as part of the poem. When I read it aloud, my version has a melody, whereas the proposed version is choppy, rough, fragmented with loss and awkward jumps.

I know that I'm likely still reacting with emotion. Time and distance would give me a clearer head to think through the changes. But even as I have accepted (and subsequently edited in) some points, there are others that I think I must stick by my guns for. I don't want to be the prissy, recalcitrant Speshul Snowflake Poet, but what about my artistic integrity?

I just really hope I'm not shooting myself in the foot.

To cheer myself up, and remind myself of the important tenents of writing...
Devin Galaudet's The Creative Writer’s Bill of Rights (or The Creative Bill of Writes)

1. The artist can turn off all filters and say anything about any subject, at any time, for any reason.
2. No subject matter, no how uncomfortable or offensive to self or others, is off limits
3. No single word: expletive or other no-no should be avoided due to political correctness or fear. If the word is appropriate in the context of the writing, it should stay. *
4. Any random thought should be written down by the writer, especially when the writer’s internal voice says, you can’t say that!
5. No matter how perfect a writing is, it could be edited down further or expanded upon.
6. Sometimes a writer will have to kill his or her babies. This means some great ideas/lines/articles will have to be removed, taken out, destroyed, sacrificed or edited in order to make the writing better. It can be a painful process.
7. Making changes that others have suggested, after careful scrutiny, gives the writer more authority as a writer.
8. Ignoring changes that others have suggested, after careful scrutiny, gives the writer more authority as a writer.
9. Getting a big authentic reaction is good – whether the reader liked the writing or not. Big reactions like “You suck,” is not a good reason to rewrite.
10. Taking a risk is a good thing.
11. Making a difference takes risk.
* Writing for shock value: using words and topics to offend for the sake of being offensive, is not creative. It is divisive and outside the scope of this sacred document — where is good parchment when you need it?
Write Now:
What I'm listening to: "Look No Further" by Dido
What I want most: Second opinions- revise, or withdraw? Comment!

I spent last night (this morning? lol) researching MFA programs. Even though I have a few years, the frenzy that my friends have just finished has inspired me (or terrified me) into getting a head start. Of course, that has stirred up a whole list of issues on its own.

As I said in yesterday's post, I have this thing about admitting up to my popular fiction habits. I write it all the time, but putting it on a resume or talking about it in a job interview sends me into embarrassed shivers.

And the thought of applying to Seton Hill's popular fiction program--

-- very enticing.

But also, not enticing.

Because in two years after graduation, I need to be searching for a job. And a job requires some training. And writing ability is differently measured when your background is in (Emile) Zola than zombies.

And while the program would be great if I planned to go full-time, I don't have the confidence to take that (very real, very big) financial risk.

However, at the Pennwriter's Conference I went to earlier this year, I sat in on Maria V. Snyder's workshop. She mentioned that she went back to school (at Seton Hill) after she was both full time and published several times. And that she benefited just as much from that order of doing things because she was approaching it with a different perspective and purpose. Which, I think, is pretty sage advice.

And something to keep in mind.

Write Now:
What I'm listening to: Cat Power's cover of "Space Oddity" by David Bowie
What I want most: to find a downloadable version of THIS song. What IS it with iTunes lately?

So I have recently finished a completely empowering, you-go-girl, popular-fiction-is-not-a-crime kind of article. Here's the thing though-- with all my bravado, I still treat fiction as my secret mistress. It's the passion I get on the side while loyalty still remains with poetry.

The kind of fiction I write is not conclusive to the contests on literary magazines that I would submit my poetry to. My poetry is much more high-brow than my fiction (well, mostly). Still, that doesn't mean I lack ambition for my fiction. I do want to have it published, and I do want people to read it-- it's just stepping out a little and admitting to both at the same time. Especially in professional (day job) settings.
           *Yes, I write about pretty flowers and zombies.*

I cringe a little when I think about turning in my resume or showing up to a job interview. How do you make popular fiction credible to the literary (slash and/or snooty) crowd? When you live in (and for) academia, what strategies of reconciliation can you use to balance both sides (of yourself)? And how do you advocate something that (even) you (yourself) are ashamed of?

I don't like this trait. But I'm also not sure what to do about it.

Write Now:
What I'm listening to: "It's Not Alright ft. Sinima" by Iras
What I want most: to find a downloadable version of this song. Stupid iTunes.

After a morning full of a series of depressing articles: "So You Wanna Go to Grad School?" "Graduate School in the Humanities: Just Don't Go" and "Deprogramming from the Academic Program" my motivation is low and my confusion is high. Not about grad school, per se -- I'm pretty convinced that even if I learn nothing in an MFA program (and that's highly unlikely) the two years of concentrated output is a visible benefit.  Plus, any program comes with exposure to new authors/works and networking with professors and other students. So, an MFA is a 99% likelihood. 


However, these articles tap into the approaching reality of post-grad life. What kind of job can a creative writer find? Is it truly possible to support yourself financially as a full time freelancer? Is there even freelance work for someone not interested in non-fiction/journalism? How much writing do you truly do with a 9 to 5 job? Is it possible to find a compatible lifestyle balancing writing and "reality"?


There are no answers. Google did have somewhat encouraging search results for "writing jobs"- grant writers and business writers most numerous, but from companies I didn't expect and could be more enthused about than I expected. Still, it's a scary scary world out there, and I don't deal well with uncertainty. I work better having defined steps to achieve a goal, and while finishing my undergrad and then grad school takes care of the next four-ish years, I would still like some article out there to say "Hey look! Do this, and you become qualified for 'reality'!" 


Of course, that's the wet dream of every humanities major, so this is nothing new. 


So, to counter the depression, a return back to what I know. Writing. And a little offering of humor. 


Devin Galaudet's The Creative Writer’s Bill of Rights (or The Creative Bill of Writes)

1. The artist can turn off all filters and say anything about any subject, at any time, for any reason.
2. No subject matter, no how uncomfortable or offensive to self or others, is off limits
3. No single word: expletive or other no-no should be avoided due to political correctness or fear. If the word is appropriate in the context of the writing, it should stay. *
4. Any random thought should be written down by the writer, especially when the writer’s internal voice says, you can’t say that!
5. No matter how perfect a writing is, it could be edited down further or expanded upon.
6. Sometimes a writer will have to kill his or her babies. This means some great ideas/lines/articles will have to be removed, taken out, destroyed, sacrificed or edited in order to make the writing better. It can be a painful process.
7. Making changes that others have suggested, after careful scrutiny, gives the writer more authority as a writer.
8. Ignoring changes that others have suggested, after careful scrutiny, gives the writer more authority as a writer.
9. Getting a big authentic reaction is good – whether the reader liked the writing or not. Big reactions like “You suck,” is not a good reason to rewrite.
10. Taking a risk is a good thing.
11. Making a difference takes risk.
* Writing for shock value: using words and topics to offend for the sake of being offensive, is not creative. It is divisive and outside the scope of this sacred document — where is good parchment when you need it?

Write Now: 
What I'm listening to: The news (It's hurting my ears)
What I want most: chocolate, and good wine, and a hug

It's here!

Yesterday was the release of Mandala Journal's first online publication, and includes yours truly!

I am reading through the contributor's biographies, and I'm humbled and elated to be included among professional writers.

So head on over, and take a look at my poetry, as well as many other fine works!

It's a big step. It's not a necessary one, but it's a big, huge, thrilling step.

I bought business cards!

Business cards. For me. Saying "Shelly Holder: Author/Poet"

Once again, I have stepped over those invisible cobweb boundaries that mark the division between "student author" and "professional author." This makes, maybe, number 3452, and I believe the generally accepted final number to be 23948245834293714136457589964243452346 and 1, but hey who's countin'?

Ahem. Anyways.

This is what they look like.

I think I accidentally stole a poetry journal.

Actually, scratch that-- I am 90% sure I did.

See, most campus publications are free. Student run, student published, student authors; ergo, quality is mid-range and overhead covered by student activities grants.  There are several different publications on campus, so seeing one in the coffeeshop that I was in particular unfamiliar with(but submitted several poems to regardless), I go grab a copy. And leave, happy.

Until I read the journal later that night, and realize that there is a 5.95 price sticker on the back cover! Oh no!

Whoops.

I've come to realize that this journal is not at the same level as the others I usually read-- probably because of the 5.95 price sticker on the back cover. The table of contents doesn't list any students, but is rather full of already established poets, usually post-grad professionals that are both married and living somewhere that is NOT Virginia. Places NOT on this campus.

I never realized how little I knew about this journal, and how I blindly submitted without knowing the content quality expected. I thought it was the same sort as other publications. I've read the others-- the artsy one, the humorous one, the satirical one, the angsty one-- but I never was exposed to this one other than general rumors of it being the "serious" one. I thought serious translated into "avant-garde" and sent in my best concrete (shaped) poems. I'm not unhappy with my submission, but I really wished that I had listened to all the writing articles that warned writers to DO YOUR RESEARCH FIRST.

Whoops. Now let's hope that 1) the coffeeshop doesn't arrest me, and 2) the journal doesn't laugh me off for the misunderstanding. But I'm afraid that I might have butchered it this year's go-around.

Whoops.

Right Now:
What I'm listening to: "Morningwood" by Morningwood
What I want most: to hear back from this journal. It's been several months....

I realized that I never set a New Year's resolution, either for life in general or for my writing. Lately, I've been thinking a lot about my goals for this year, and what I want to accomplish. I've finally settled on: making money from writing.

First off, let me explain that I know writers never make serious money. Let me also say that I know "true writers" never have publication and/or making money as their end goal, but instead write for themselves and for the sake of Art. Let me thus follow up and respond that I will be writing no matter what. In the meantime, I should at least pull out some this writing, polish it up, brush the lint off and ship it off to a publisher to do some good for my bankbook. If I create, and then do nothing with the words, have I really created? *snicker snicker*

What my goal is really about is taking myself, my writing, and my career to a new plane. Like I said, I can write and write, but this IS an ego-driven profession, and would I REALLY be happy as an unknown starving artist in some attic somewhere?

No. Simply, no. I like food. I like clothing. I like *nice* clothing, the kind without rips and multiple patches. I would like a house someday. Not necessarily a big one, but any sort of property requires a down payment. And good credit.

And, most importantly, I have never really earned money from my writing. I have won one scholarship, many years ago in high school, but that went towards summer school tuition via my parents. Since then, nothing.

I am not getting at that age when earning my own way is getting more and more important. I have already conquered making my own way, but now I just need to be able to provide for myself to make everything happen. And how else would I do that than with my chosen profession?

So I am looking for writing that pays. I am currently lined up for an interview tomorrow for the magazine internship position, so perhaps that will pan out. And as I have posted earlier this week, I have tried really hard to submit a lot of poems to various competitions and journals. The actual dividends are that much, but the point that I'm trying to make is that the amount doesn't matter, but the sheer realization of the actual earning power of my writing.

Besides, a gift card to Amazon is a GREAT pay off. I can read all the mass fiction, ahem, I mean instructional academic books I want.

Isn't it great to be paid in books?

Right now:
What I'm listening to: Nothing. Too sleepy.
What I want most: dinner. I skipped it today. Whoops. (notice how all my postings are about food? what does that say about me, I wander... No don't ACTUALLY answer that.)

Well, I was inspired by the good responses that I got to yesterday's post about my submission tracker Excel spreadsheet, so I thought I would show off what the month holds for me in my writing schedule. Nothing fancy- just my blogs, a few contests, and a couple applications. But it helps me see my writing, and my progress. I can quickly see that I average about four posts a week... and when I flip back to January and compare the pages, I can see that I'm doing much better, and don't beat myself up for missing those two days. In short, it helps me stay balanced while continuing to be focused.

I might be taking both a little overboard, but I really just function better when I have both the spreadsheet and the calender working for me. I feel like I take myself seriously, and that helps me view my work with confidence. If I see myself as a writer, rather than just another English major who writes, then I feel like I'm making progress.

Right Now:
What I'm listening to: "In the Cold" by Acceptance
What I want most: a portable heater... or a quilt... the dorm is so cold! =(

I'm pretty much the poster girl for anal retentiveness when it comes to writing and tracking submissions. As you can see above, I have a fairly extensive Excel worksheet that should intimidate the hell out of me, but instead soothes me with all the clean, laid-out precision. Color-coding is one of my favorite pastimes, and inventing more categories (see that I have both a date created and a date finished column) is no chore either.

So, if you look closely, you can find evidence for my hard work this weekend. The poems highlighted in green are the ones I submitted to the Prague Summer School scholarship. Then I submitted six poems to a campus newspaper creative writing contest, and five more to an undergraduate journal. Some to the journal don't quite fit the requirements, but the Paternal Voice told me a while back that I should always submit the maximum number, even if they don't fit, because you never knew. And he's right. So a total of 16 poems, out into the void. Crazy, and I probably just depleted half of my poetry reserves, but I'd rather get them published than hoard them, so out they went.

This year feels good. I'm doing stuff, and I'm working multiple avenues, all in pursuit of a career. Nothing directly has to do with school, this is all my own will power. It somewhat amazes me, and secretly fills me with great pride. I can achieve things without someone looking over my shoulder yelling at me, and I never really felt that I could. Even after college, it was more deadlines than preparedness that made me work. But knowing that these submissions were all sent out without prompting really makes my self-confidence grow. Even if I get rejected, I won't feel bad, because I submitted them in the first place. Mlle Diabolique keeps telling me that I'm working at achieving my dreams, and I can finally accept that I am.

I am working like a professional.

Right now:
What I'm listening to: "White Flag" by Dido
What I want most: coffee ice cream

I still haven't heard back from the Flat Hat people. They'll announce the results in another week or so, or so they say. Must be more applications for the position than I thought. *Gulp*

I guess I'm not officially in the journalism business yet. I have been surprised by my eagerness for this position, and for the whole idea of writing a weekly column for a newspaper. After so many years of saying "No" to journalism I now find myself saying "PLEASE!!!!!" and it's rather astonishing to hear the longing in my voice.

Well, I was that way about writing in general (see website bio) so should it really come as a surprise? In addition, I write this blog, which is like a newspaper column in miniature (Opinion section, obviously).

So no news. No news on the news position. No news for you. No. No news. No, don't touch!

Sigh.

*must wait patiently, must wait patiently*

Right Now:
What I'm listening to: "Falling Slowly" from the soundtrack "Once"
What I want most: news, news, news news news.....

Sometimes time curls inupon itself and passes by without noticing, while simultaneously stretching out longer than molecular taffy, each moment a perfect representation of infinity. I'm always reminded of the William Blake poem at these moments:

To see a world in a grain of sand,
and a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.

Beautiful lines. I think it might have been the earliest verse of poetry that I memorized, although I admit that I was not some progidy child but rather one who watcher Lara Croft: Tomb Raider on repeat. But that's another story.

Anyways I feel as if I have finally woken up mentally. There was a haze that seemed to consume me these past two weeks- the effects of residual jetlag and adjustment to school I'm sure. Creativity was out of the question, as was any sort of exertion on my part beyond what was strictly necessary. But I have high hopes for the coming weeks. I'll gradually adapt to this semester's schedule, and gradually be able to carve out those hours for writing. I plan to be more ambitious and far-reaching in my writing career goals-- no more just writing X poems or X words a day, but publishing X pieces in X journals.

So, let it start.

But I'd love to hear an encouraging word from you all to keep in mind when I hit the next haze period.

Right Now:
What I'm listening to: 'Just Dance' by Lady Gaga
What I want most: more time in the day

I've had a growing suspicion about myself, and tonight I have confirmed my discovery.

I am not a poet's poet. In fact, I'm rather like a cat, that bristles at the approach of another. There's internal hissing and spitting involved, and believe me, it ain't pretty.

I'm rather ashamed of my jealousy and envy, especially in light of my work with critINK. For some reason, I can function perfectly well in that setting, but stick me in classroom and things go BOOM.

I love editing. I really do. I love working with other writers, and I love peer review. I love the whole philosophy of critINK, which is that social interaction- feedback, collective brainstorming, and general discussion- aids the entire creative writing process. I firmly believe that the idea of the solitary writer stuck in an attic is a detrimental stereotype- not only to the public perception of writing, but also to the insiders idea of how writers should act. Writing is not a secret society or a monastery- it has no rituals, regulations, or universals. Writing is an expression of the individual, and like each individual is unique.

Regardless of my conviction, and regardless of my better judgment, I still become crippled in the presence of other writers. I probably battle most with insecurity. I didn't take myself seriously as a writer for a long time, and those ingrained habits are hard to beat out of yourself. So encountering another writer who is serious and ambitious about his/her craft, especially one achieving milestones like publication younger than I did, sends me into a primal sort of temper tantrum. I should look to them as examples, as models, but instead I go off in a green cloud.

I am motivated by these people, but in a "I'll show you" way. It's the wrong sort of motivation, even if it does get the results I need. I can only hope that I will slowly mature into the type of professional that can accept other writers' success.

Right Now:
What I'm listening to: "Alejandro" by Lady Gaga
What I want most: chips and salsa

and not just because my plane was delayed, although that is a theme for the next blog post or two.

But situations like these are always the ones that yield unexpected results. Two guys standing behind probably formed a life-long friendship because of the three hour conversation that they started up. Even I, introverted as I sometimes can be, am tempted to talk to people because the frustration is high but the inhibitions are low. Like wanting to tell Melvin at the hotel desk "Thank you for being so kind all the time. I saw you three weeks ago when I was delayed overnight during Thanksgiving, and you were just as friendly back then." Or telling people where to go and how the hotel shuttles work, because I literally did this not three weeks ago. And striking up a conversation with a really nice woman while waiting for said hotel shuttles.

It was at this point when I walked away to board the big green and white bus that I realized that I had missed out on a valuable marketing opportunity. There we were, with nothing to talk about but friendly enough to be genuinely interested in one another, and I didn't have a business card with me.

I've thought about it a lot lately, especially since going to the conference. I am one writer in a million writers, who all have blogs and websites, so how am I going to stick out? By meeting me, and being first struck by my personality, and then following up with my writing. Ergo, I need business cards.

Something very simple, black on white, my name and my website. And all I would have to say would be, "It's been great chatting with you. If you are ever interested, I would love for you to visit my website. Have a safe flight."

Business cards. Because it's all about the marketing.

Right now:
Where I'm located: hotel room, Atlanta
What I want most: sleep. and clean clothes.

I am suffering from a slight case of the writing doldrums. It's not fatal, I've been assured, but it has the potential to knock me out of commission if I don't combat it with a good dose of Vitamin C... c for confidence.

I wrote the other day glancingly of my submission that was my first submission. I'm still in shock over that discovery, and have been racking my mind for the cause of my illusionary feelings of success. I figured out this check-list of literary magazines on campus:

Winged Nation: X
The Review: X
The Gallery: n/a
Beacon: n/a
Lips: n/a

So I have a 2/5 success rate of sending out materials, but still. It was my first submission outside of campus (other than vanity publications; see website bio for more details). Why? Tell me, why?

My first story I ever wrote was a class assignment in 2nd grade about a magical cat. It currently languishes. Certainly I would have to update it, but I could use it for a children's story at least. Why haven't I?

The next story I wrote was in the 7th grade. A substantial lapse of years, but ones well spent I suppose, since the sophistication of my writing (rather obviously) increased. Why can't I use that one?

The next was a few weeks later, another assignment for my honors science class (again, see website bio), It too has been lost to the ravages of time. A third story that year for English, then two more quickly followed, all of which were published in the English department magazine to my combined horror (now) and pride (then.) Those too could be resurrected in some way. In fact, one of them I consider my most descriptively evocative of all my prose. Why haven't I used it?

After that, my memory becomes fuzzy, and I highly doubt that anything much was written. I went through a novel phase, and have the many versions of several opening chapters to each of these manuscripts, but nothing was completed.

I made a foolish promise to myself, declaring that I would be published before my Xth birthday. The 16th came and went, without even an attempt, and the 17th hastily researched and submitted before the midnight "deadline." Thus began the rise of the vanity publications, which occupied the next 6-8 months before the disastrous conclusion (once more, refer to the website bio).

Then came college, and a singular poem published freshman year, and a rejection sophomore year. A short story contest. Several poems over teh summer, another abandoned novel attempt.

It surprises me sometimes, how much I consider myself a writer, and yet how little I actually have to show for the years spent thinking this way. I don't want to spend another semester throwing out half-heartened attempts. If I am a writer, then I need to be a writer. Otherwise I will end up 60 years old, wondering where the time went and having nothing to show for it all except the scattered pages of a few chapters. If I end up 60 years and still unpublished, but with 20 trunk novels and reams of rejected poetry, that's another thing. I would still be a writer, even if I was unpublished. The age is not the issue, but the attempt.

I am a writer.

Right now:
What I am listening to: nothing.
What I want most: breakfast. or a shower.

How does one, I wonder, achieve the cultural status of an author? I don't mean just my name listed on the NYT bestsellers list, although that would be an amazing achievement of its own. But how does one gain the reputation of being literary?

I am fascinated by the idea of the french salons, run by elegant ladies and populated with eccentric characters and brilliant thinkers. But these have passed away by several centuries.

I am fascinated by the idea of Bohemia, and the establishment of city quarters like Montparnasse, or Soho, or Greenwich Village. These all exist, but some of the "the glow and the glamour" has washed away with time. I read a very mournful elegy several years ago on the death of the American bohemian lifestyle, and I positively cried in sympathy.

I am fascinated by the idea of literary establishments- the clubs, and famous writer's groups that some authors establish, like ... well, see, even I can't even remember which ones I mean, and Google has no clue what I'm talking about.

So how does one recreate this sort of atmosphere in modern America? How does one achieve that sort of reputation beyond the words on a page and into the realm of personality? When writing is not an occupation or an obsession or a career or a hobby, but a lifestyle?

Well, I certainly don't have any answers from my two years of pondering, and I suspect that it will take me more than twenty to achieve anything definitive.

But, then, one never knows.

Right now:
What I'm listening to: n/a. The roomie, Long-Suffering One, is asleep. Shhhhhhhhh....
What I want most: To start Flesh Circus, the newest Lilith Saintcrow that I just bought

Well, I turned in that application today-- the one to the Writing Resource Center here at campus that I asked for help on the other day. Of course, I didn't turn in the essay that I asked for help on. It pretty much got trashed in its entirity. I think I salvaged about 3 sentences. But that's ok, since what I turned in was so much stronger.

It was interesting, to get back all the reviews that I did, from here and from Fanstory.com, and be able to see what people thought of my essay. The main criticism that I recieved was that I wrote the essay as a personal essay, instead of a formal application to a job. The fact that someone (or several someones) was able to pull that out of the chaos and be able to recognize that as a weakness was not only humbling but helpful. The new approach gained from that mindset enabled me to fly through the second draft, and craft a piece that I can feel proud of. I was really satisfied by the end result, and I think now I have a better chance of being accepted.

Anyways, thanks for all the help, and cross your fingers that I get the job!

Right now:
What I want most: a nap or a snack, I can't decide which...
What I'm listening to: ticking clock, tapping keys, chairs creaking and small slurps of chai-- all the sounds of hard work and studying

I want to write.

I really, really want to write.

I have scraps of papers and ideas floating around everywhere, on my phone, post-its, scratch paper, corners I tore off, journals, and different journals, envelopes, napkins, not to mention my computer and THREE blogs. Yes three. (Four, if you count LJ, which I don't.) How did I think that was ok? Argh. Too much. I need to go full-time freelance. I should just up and quit and not look back, because school isn't conducive to writing anyways.

Screw college. I wanna be a professional writer.