Hey There,
I can’t dash off a quickie. Not me. Nope. Because I believe good writing is the result of a long, hard process.
One of my writing students wants to submit essays once a week. She’s a great writer. She has heart, which means, she’s willing to tell the truth. But, she’s new to freelancing, so she’s not familiar with many publications. She hasn’t written query letters and hasn’t taken many classes or been to conferences, so she doesn’t know people in the business.
When she texted me saying she didn’t want to wait to workshop her latest story in class, I know I should have texted back, “Fuck yeah! Bust it out!”
Instead, I called my writing partner, Allison Langer, and told her my student was driving me to drink. Allison heard me out, then told me it was my job to lift her up.
I got off the phone. What the hell’s my problem?
For me, nothing about writing is quick. I get an idea then work it into a story. That can take weeks. Then, I workshop my stories in class. I get notes from writers I trust. I ride my bike and wait for my thoughts to come in clearly. I revise. I read essays and study publications. I participate in writing groups on social media. I take classes and meet other writers. I go to conferences. I teach at conferences. I meet editors. I submit stories and have compiled a million rejections, (read about my rejections here) but sometimes I land a story and then I cultivate my relationship with that editor. This has been my process for 25 years.
Everyone needs to go through this process!
“I don’t want to spend three months on something that might get rejected,” my student said, “I have to believe it’s possible to write something that’s good enough.”
When she said three months (sometimes years, in my case), I realized my problem.
I’m jealous.
I wish I could be like her and dash something off. I wish I didn’t spend 100 years on every story. Because, who knows? Maybe my stories are already good enough.
I texted her back, “Fuck yeah. Bust it out.”
THIS SATURDAY, 12 to 1 p.m. ET, join Allison and me for our Tips Clinic. We’re talking about voice. How do you write like you speak and then maintain that easy voice? We’re gonna write and put that tip into practice.
If you’re already a Patreon, here’s your FREE Tips Clinic link. If you’re not a member, join us for $10. Register here for TIPS CLINIC.
As always, Writing Class Radio has two First Draft weekly writing groups where you write to a prompt and if you want, you can share what you wrote.
You can test drive First Draft for free with these links.
Tuesday, 12 to 1 p.m. ET with Allison Langer.
Monday, 8 to 9 p.m. ET with Eduardo Winck.
Before you go, if this newsletter asks you to become a paid subscriber, you don’t have to. This letter will always be free.
Also, here’s a link to Writing Class Radio’s latest. Episode 173: Birds Will Be Birds. Chris Blackwell falls in love with a nest of birds outside his prison window and shows us how to make big meaning out of a small moment.
And here’s Episode 172: How to Start a New Job. Sumitra Mattai plays with structure in this story about job angst. The whole story is told as a list. So cool!
There’s a quickie for ya. Thanks for reading. And thanks for listening to Writing Class Radio.
Love,
I love this Substack
Well, we see how you made a penname with a little bit of polish OWITZ added to ASKO. Making memories of the POLISH neighborhood give us ASKOWITZ. You were quite American too. Mark Twain became a name by using a wetter neighborhood....the river....as it gave a depth that told us the hull would not snag its bottom when going there. In short, you show how writing grows out of real things. All this depends on context. Why? SI and SEE both sound alike but they mean two different things which any writer places in the work to use without mixing up any reader. It means, a bandit wants to SEE the treasure which moves him to wonder if he should take it? If he answers SI, only the sheriff has a different opinoin. NO! This makes a story.