Reviews, Progress, and That Pull
Fuck that pull of everything away from writing, that life that gives us things to write about, that keeps us from being lost in words. Fuck all of that. The last month, I’ve been over the coaster of emotion and stress with my son. And there’s Xmas and cookies and casseroles and parties. And fuck that working gig and everything, everything. And thank ye gods that it does intrude and pull me away, thank you, thank you. Or else…..??
Over at Zoe, I’ve been getting some pretty good reviews of my story “The Gun Cabinet,” so I will probably start in on more revisions when time allows. My other story, “Loose Floorboard,” has yet to be reviewed in my private, serious-as-hell office. If you need feedback on your writing and you’ve not tried Zoe, I suggest that you do. The virtual workshop is free and fun. Plus it gives you another obsessive rat track to run, to check and recheck all the day long—gives you another pull away from writing. Of course, this one has to do with writing, this one is of that most deceptive of pulls—the writing workshop-feedback loop.
As for the reviews I get for my work, many of them are too good and therefore, not as helpful as I need. Though I don’t generally post stories for review until I feel that things are just about ready for publication, so perhaps the good reviews are in order. Still, I sometimes get good, frank-hard critiques that are very helpful, though they do annoy me. There’s no pleasing this girl. The most annoying critiques come from other very good writers who want me to rewrite in their image--very subjective reviews. I tend to ignore suggestions that come from folks who obviously don’t get what I do with language. These writers go through and just chop and chop, leaving me to think that they just don’t have the ear I have for rhythm and flow. That’s not to say that their ears are wrong, but that they just hear things differently. One of the positive comments I do receive over and over again is that I have a way with language, rhythm, and flow. Of course, I’m a poet.
What I need help with most is plot and tension, story arc, and details--those very basic story elements. Or do I? I hear this from some readers and from you dear dear editors out there. Time and time again I hear how my writing is lovely, strong-voiced and all that, all that but no-taking-your-fantastic-work-this-time. There seems to be a tendency to regard much of my prose work as essay as opposed to fiction, even though the story elements are there, they’re just not straightforward. But why should stories be told head on? Often I feel I don’t need any help, that I’m doing something that doesn’t need to be messed with. Why should I follow the lead of the pack? Why should I pander to the common reader? Oh, dear. There’s her elitist terrible-snobby streak rearing its fists. But really, sometimes I want to tell everyone expect those who recognize my obvious brilliance to just fuck the fucking off.
But I do need feedback, whether I like it or not--feedback from a variety of readers and that’s what I get at Zoe. I just wish other reader/writers could hold back from imposing their own style upon my work. I try to guard against this when I review, but it is often hard to resist. As my fiction writing teacher Ken Smith says, “all writers want you to write the way they write.” He taught me to be cautious of others, and of myself when I attempt to “help” others. So I am at fault, too. Reviewing good good writers is a tricky tricky thing. In many ways, I enjoy more helping those writers who are sort of in the middle, who need help with basic elements.
Here’s where I am the fiction. Stories to work/polish: “The Gun Cabinet,” “Loose Floorboard,” and “Brushes.” Stories to continue submitting: “The Lawnmower Guard” and “Jauncy’s Feathers.” Old stories to just go on and submit already: “According to the Girl,” “The Hermit Crab,” “Nothing Left to Hear,” and “Inside Herman Inside Irene.” Stories to write: “Untitled Disturbing Piece,” “How to Become Obsessed with Harry.” Old stories to revisit: “What People Do,” “Skin,” “Sleeping Pills,” “His Dog,” and “Two Men.”
With the poems: who knows?
With the books: need to pick up and work on Travels Through Bipolar and Autism, Quilted Creek, and the fiction collection.
What I will do today: Read and grade papers and tests, cook food for upcoming Xmas party. Yes, that’s my writing life.
~r.
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