I like to judge the productivity of my writing day by the amount of biscuit crumbs on my jumper. This has been a VERY productive day.
A well-known and high profile creative writing competition is announced today. Now, I know my story will not be long-listed. My publishing credits are few and relatively recent. I still have much to learn about the craft and I have a fair distance to travel yet. But still, I’ve discovered this little kernel of hope inside me that I can’t stop igniting every time I submit a piece. Once the deadline passes, I go on with another piece and pay the submission no mind. But, then, when the announcement deadline arrives, I refresh and refresh and refresh. Today, I felt that little kernel and decided to stop and examine it for a moment.
You see, I think it exists inside all writers who create work intended for an audience. Of course, not every writer seeks publication. Sometimes a piece is written for our own eyes only. It could be a character study or a form of therapeutic writing, for example. But, when we do create a piece intended for a home in the material or digital worlds, we latch onto any small sliver of hope we can muster. We still do it even when we know we’re hoping against hope for validation. The writing ego always wants to feel that it’s not shouting into the dark, that our efforts mean something to someone somewhere, even if it’s just one other solitary soul in the universe.
And that’s where I find myself today. I know my story needs a little more tightening, that it’s up against far more skilful works by more experienced writers. Logically, my chances of success are limited. And yet, and yet, and yet, until the website updates, I can’t quench that little kernel of hope. I torture myself with constant refreshing, ‘Just in case…’
But there is no sadness when my title is not included on the long list. There is no jealousy of the other writers. There is merely the will to redraft and resubmit the piece of work elsewhere. There is always the will to keep going, to write something else, to try submitting again.
Now, why am I writing this? Wouldn’t it be better to say nothing at all, rather than to strip my creative self bare like this in public? No. Because I’m neither special nor unique. The vast majority of writers go through this process time and again. They experience rejection whether they are professionals with a long and prestigious list of publications or whether they’re amateurs like me. The point is we learn to develop thicker writing skins and we learn to stop internalising rejection as, ‘This means my writing is bad and that I’m bad.’ Somehow we learn over time to make peace with rejection. It’s true some rejections sting more than others, but there is always something to be learned from them. No piece of work is ever ‘a waste’.
So, instead of trying to smother these little kernels of hope whenever I sense them, I plan to leave them well alone. I will stop interfering because hope is a driver of creativity, no matter how much or how little of it you have. So, I will keep on keeping on because, well, you never know, right?
Every time I embark on a major story, I must create a small physical presence of it in my writing room just to make sure the story world comes alive for me. E.g. I have a tree stump altar which I created for my witchcraft graphic novel and I’m about to embark on a model island village for another crime novel.
This attractive specimen, however, is ‘Honest’ Jack Cochrane, chief ne’er-do-well and prime suspect of my current historical crime novel. He’ll be covered in cat hair before too long.
Yes, I believe immersion/procrastination is a major, and very enjoyable, part of my writing process. However, I still get the actual work done. #amwriting #amcreating #crimefiction
What a whirlwind! Friday night saw the launch of our Dundonald Tales illustrated short story collection at a candlelit Dundonald Castle. Now available in ebook and print editions (plug, plug), Dundonald Tales is guaranteed to tickle your historical fiction needs.
But, what an event it was. With over 50 people climbing the castle hill in suitably gothic weather, our first print run more or less sold out on the night. For a working-class village lass with health issues, I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect launch. This is how the night went down…Continue reading “And, we’re live…”
As part of the ISBN back-end process, a publishing name had to be chosen for the illuminated short story collection. And now that the proof of Dundonald Tales (plug, plug) is off at the printers, I’d like to introduce you to Runty, the newest addition to Runt Publishing (aka Me, the writer, and Michael Kelly, the illustrator).
Behold his wee cheeky whiskers…Continue reading “Runt Publishing”
Hello, and welcome to my new writer’s blog. Since I migrated the domain name of the last site to WordPress, before importing the blog content from the previous platform, I have managed to lose everything I’ve ever written online since before 2009. Result!Continue reading “File Under ‘Fanny’”