A Week of Nothing -or- My Summer Vacation

I spent the last few days off of work, and although there was plenty I could have done: make an over-due dentist appointment, rearrange my apartment, clean out my closet, organize my paperwork, make a budget for the next few months… I didn’t do any of it. Actually, now that I have it all written down, I’ll probably start chipping away at the list.

But no, over the last few days, I did very little outside of keeping my living area clean, masterminding my syllabi for my fall classes, exercising from time to time, eating, reading (Nabokov's The Original of Laura, until I started feeling guilty about reading something that a dying man wanted destroyed) and bad-mouthing LeBron James for doing the very thing most successful people do when they’re from the Midwest: leave it behind.

My energy has been rather low, so inaction suited me well enough—I didn’t feel jittery or guilty like I usually do when I’m not productive. Oh, and I got a little writing done, though not enough to be proud of. I just picked and pruned and decided what I had no choice to keep. So, that was my week. Boring, eh?
Well, I thought I’d share it anyway, seeing as how I’ve been consistent with this blog thing the past few weeks, posting every Saturday. So, since I have nothing to rant about (I could go on about LeBron, but let’s be honest, I’m was never a contracted athlete, and still I couldn’t wait to leave Columbus—I can only imagine the wanderlust burgeoning in Akron, and so I’ll keep my feelings to myself so as not to come across as hypocritical), I posted about my week, which consisted of doing near-nothing. I’ll get back on my game next week.

[ Musical Chairs Plug :: The Kindle version is only $3.99 for a short time.  I've never read anything on Kindle, including my own book, so I don't know how to sell the experience, but chances are the story is similar to the one in the book, maybe even the same, so if you are a Kindle reader, and you've been toying with the idea of buying Musical Chairs, hey, it's a sale (other books are on sale as well through --this is a publisher sale, and there are some damn-good books with the press).  Wow, this turned into a really, really long sales pitch. ]

Reconsidering Rejection

What is it that keeps a writer going?  It’s a profession that guarantees regular rejection and demands of revision on one’s creation.  What’s more, it’s not a profession that promises great wealth or benefits (we’ll see).  In fact, the decision to write for a living is not rational on any level.  For many, it is a luxury to write, a hobby to take up after retirement or to indulge in on weekends.  But some of us work toward the dream of writing for a living, which is largely sold by a sort of writing-self-help industry that paints beautiful pictures of a writer's life: comfy retreats in the woods, secluded cabins by a lake with nightly wine and readings, only an occasional appearance at a quaint bookstore or literary event will detract from our time to write.  The truth is, most writers have to work.  As a result, there exist a few fellowships and retreats that promise a writer seclusion and inspiration.  I've been wanting one for a while, a writer's vacation, but as I was beginning to research the possible applications I would turn in for 2010, I realized my heart wasn't in it.

I applied to three fellowships while I was writing Musical Chairs, and my only return was a partial scholarship and two apologetic rejection letters.  The letters basically said that they would not fund my project, which was fine.  I ended up writing it when I could, and ending up quite happy with my output.  Now, I have a less focused set of projects. I've been working on a novel, but also writing short stories almost daily that I am sorry to say have yet to prove a thread that will bind them into a collection.

So, when I found myself searching the fellowship opportunities, most of which require a $25-50 fee, along with a writing sample, letters of recommendation and a letter of intent, I caught myself thinking, why bother?  Maybe I should give up on the idea that I can actually get paid to write.  Maybe it’d be freeing to do so.  True, I do get royalty checks, but they are usually reinvested in various writing contests and fellowship applications that seem to offer the odds of a slot machine in Vegas.

This seems a dreary post so far, eh?  Defeatist, even. Well, good.  It’s reflecting the truth of difficulty that this business can bring.  And it’s also bringing me to my point.  I’ve decided to stop applying to fellowships and the like.  Not because I feel defeated by the rejection, but rather that I've reevaluated my motives.  I will continue to submit my stories to journals and publications, when I believe they are ready, but I will no longer invest any money in the writing industry that I believe would be much better spent on a good book; time much better spent jotting or typing. I firmly believe that my desire to get paid or offered a fellowship that promises time and isolation required to complete a masterpiece has actually stunted my growth as a writer by eating up more time than allowing.  As a sort of rejection-fueled resolution, then, I have decided to focus all energy on the act of writing, not the business of writing.  We'll see how it goes, but I'm optimistic.  And sure, I'd still love a cabin in the woods, but somehow I think I'll have to write my way there, rather than get there to write.