• Bridge Ladies

    Bridge Ladies When I set out to learn about my mother's bridge club, the Jewish octogenarians behind the matching outfits and accessories, I never expected to fall in love with them. This is the story of the ladies, their game, their gen, and the ragged path that led me back to my mother.
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All We Hear Is Radio Ga Ga

Top ten reasons I hate year end top ten book lists: random, subjective, indiscriminate, circumscribed notion of taste, clubby, marketing tool, advertising ploy, makes the people who get on them think they’re better than everyone, makes the people who don’t get on them feel bad about themselves, perpetuating the “lie” that they don’t matter,

Jeez, I’ve been absentee. Catch me up! Anybody working on their writing?

Or, please provide top ten reasons you’re not working on your writing.

20 Responses

  1. Yes, I am working on my writing. I am writing and sending finished work off to market (for adulation? for slaughter?).

    I write mostly in the early mornings now, before I have to do anything else. It is very quiet in my building then. I’m working on a book-length manuscript, the eighth in a series of eight books of fiction, six of which are finished, one of which (the third) is a computer folder of parts, and the eighth of which, well, I just said. None of them has been published in its entirety, though parts of three have been published. I do not believe that a publisher is likely ever to publish any of them in their entirety. It’s not that they’re badly written, but publishing is a business and I can make no compelling case to a publisher as to why my books should be published other than they’re not bad.

    As for what of my writing is getting published, just this week I had a short fiction appear online in Another Chicago Magazine, and the week before that, a collection of fifteen related short fictions were published in London in Neon Literary Magazine. I’ve recently got into the routine of spending a half-hour daily sending my short fictions out to lit mags. Most of the time my pieces get rejected, sometimes with love, and upon occasion, as indicated, they get published.

    So I work.

    • Congrats all on the successes Tetman. You deserve each and every one.

    • that’s awesome about the stories. what is this eight volume work?

      • Thank you, Betsy. It always feels good to get published. Or almost always.

        As for the opus, it is eight volumes of memoirs, told in the first, second, and third persons and as novels, novellas, and short stories, with all the names changed, including my own, and with whatever facts needed to be sanded down made so in order for the pieces to fit together and the machinery to work. You read one of the novellas a few years back. You said nice things about it, but it was not the sort of work you represent (you prefer books that will sell).

  2. Excellent Tetman. I write & submit, too, but not like you. I get lazy and discouraged sometimes. But you have do it to stay in the game. You’ve inspired me today.

    • You cannot win if you do not play. May you remain inspired every day. I’m not seeking to rhyme here, no, no way.

      Okay, that last line was a lie. I saw it happening and went with it.

      Yes, it’s discouraging, this writing and marketing stuff. Discouraging as all get out. But we do it anyway, we members of the S&M (Scribblers and Marketers) Guild.

      Write on!

  3. I was working on a real hair pulling book – it’s done and off to the agent, I’m happy to say. Now I’m baking cookies like somebody insane, and eating them before I can package them. That would be called nerves.

    I don’t know what to say about the lists. I read them, and think about how I didn’t read one of those books.

  4. I just signed a book contract a little writing notebook/journal called The Writer’s Field Journal. It’s not The Fucker, but it’s not bad.

  5. We left the day before Michael made landfall, and returned the second day after.Our town was unrecognizable and often impassable. Power, water, and communications gone, no traffic lights and few street signs.

    Camps appeared to house thousands of contractors and workers, while traffic tripled and debris piled up, spilling into streets.

    Almost two months later, it is a junkscape, shifting and changing as piles are removed and replaced with more debris. Most everyone has electricity, water, and cell; landlines are still out in some places.

    There are volunteers with good hearts and strong backs, and skilled workers to rebuild, and locals working hard. The hustlers and scammers are here, bilking, stealing, and charging astonishing prices. There is no shortage of unskilled posers working on roofs and falling off now and then. Larry, Curly, and Mo are here somewhere, I’m sure.

    After the storm, there was heat, humidity, heat, then rain, now cool, wet weather. It is bleak and sad here, and will not be as before.

    We’re on the lucky side of Michael, and those east of us have it far, far worse. We still have a street, home, and neighbors, all worse for wear, and we have alcohol. For a time we didn’t, and it was missed.

    Writing will resume, and soon. It must.

  6. I forgot. The boat made it.

    That is important.

  7. I pretty much ignore book lists other than to find out if some of my favourite authors have a new title out, because I like what I like and I refuse to be told what to like. As far as my writing, I’ve had a couple of short pieces published and I guess I’ve found my niche (emotional pieces based on human relationships, issues such as suicide, domestic violence etc, but as far as ideas for a full length novel are concerned, I’m forever losing interest in an idea once I’ve plotted it out. So I procrastinate endlessly. I blame Netflix.

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