Tag: writing

July 7, 2021

Support Emerging Writers (and Me) in the Clarion West Write-a-Thon

How is July going for you? Mine is quite busy. Things are opening up more locally and my book projects are moving forward. My short story collection Dream Signs now has a release date – September 16th! I can’t wait to see it as a real book out in the world. One of the stories in the book, “A Limit to Growth,” is included in The Fiddlehead’s Summer Fiction issue (available for order here). It’s about math, art, and a jaded fortysomething woman who goes on a cybersex chat site.

I’m participating in Clarion West’s Write-a-Thon this month. If you aren’t familiar with the name, Clarion West is a speculative fiction writer’s organization that runs a six-week yearly workshop and offers other forms of writing education and support. Their mandate is to “support emerging and underrepresented voices by providing writers with world-class instruction to empower their creations of wild and amazing worlds.” I attended some of their online offerings during lockdown and enjoyed them very much. Several of my favorite writers teach there, have studied there, or both. In short, they’re doing fantastic work.

The Write-a-Thon is two things: an inspiring community for writers and a fundraiser for Clarion West. Anyone can sign up to participate and get access to talks from writers, a Slack channel to chat about your craft, and more. The Write-a-Thon runs until the end of July and you can sign up here to participate.

My goals for the Write-a-Thon this month are to write two new pieces, send out three submissions, and set up two events for the launch of Dream Signs this fall. If you’d like to support Clarion West’s work with emerging writers, or cheer on my writing goals by tossing a coin to your Witcher, you can do so on my Write-a-Thon profile here: Sponsor a writer.

And if you’d like a sneak peek at my story “A Limit to Growth”, read on:

When I was ten, I resolved to marry the first man who didn’t laugh at me for carrying math books around the beach. I’d explain to him about factors, how beautiful it is to look inside a larger number and see what groupings make it up, what small parts combined to make it breathe. I’d tell him there are patterns everywhere—in tree branches, in sand dunes, in the veins of our bodies—and math is one way to access their secrets. The power of numbers could course through us with the rhythm of the incoming sea, and we would know infinity. Until then, I’d keep this love to myself, nestled close like a tiny animal.

It’s been three decades now, and the math outlasts the men every time. After Alan, John and Dan, I gave up on love and tried the sleeping-around thing. I’ve watched man after man melt to sweat in the evening, and my memories of them are ephemeral. There are only so many you can wake up beside without confusing their names, only so many off-centre attempts at pleasuring you can endure with a straight face, only so many times you can consent to faking it and only so many times you can be accused of faking it when you absolutely aren’t and only so many times you can tolerate a stranger calling you Sweetie before you’re looking more forward to a cup of mulled cider at your place than another encounter.

May 5, 2021

Announcing My Short Story Collection, Dream Signs

My debut short story collection Dream Signs is coming out soon with Lost Fox Publishing! You can read the press release here. It’s the culmination of over a decade of writing, a blend of realistic and fantastical fiction. The publisher has been great to work with and I can’t wait to see this book out in the world.

In their words, “Dream Signs is a grand collection. Switching between realistic and fantastical fiction, even blending the two at times, its themes are as poignant as they are epic, unified by Melanie’s unmistakable voice. In it you can find stories concerning coming-of-age and self-realization, unequivocal compassion between human beings both romantic and platonic, and the journey her characters take on to embrace their new challenges in life as they come to terms with who they really are. Different narratives weave in and around each other, each their own seminal chapter in the lives of their characters, bringing you back and forth between what has been and what must be done in order for them to live out the lives they want to live.”

Get ready to meet candy makers, sex workers, sisters left behind, scholars attracted to ideas rather than people, sentient AIs, and queer ladies fighting geological dragons.

Between this announcement and the publication of Hard for Hope to Flourish featuring my novella “The Cliffman” (with a recent “Meet the Author” interview here), it’s been quite a literary year.

I have two other books under contract over the next couple years, including a children’s chapter book with Lost Fox. Stay tuned for further announcements!

March 3, 2021

Excerpt from my Forthcoming Novelette “The Cliffman”

I’m delighted to announce the publication of my novelette “The Cliffman” in Hard for Hope to Flourish, a Midnight Bites collection of three chilling novellas from Crone Girls Press. The e-book comes out on March 11 and you can pre-order it now. If you like dark fairy tales, supernatural beings, and complicated sibling relationships, “The Cliffman” has got you covered. The other two stories involve a man hearing voices and a disappearance in a marsh. “Literary tales of quiet horror,” as the blurb says.

Below is an excerpt from “The Cliffman.” Enjoy!

The Cliffman

He stood as children raced across the lap of the sand, as half-grown feet tore up marram grass which tore them in turn, as dusk gave way to moon and brambles on the periphery to raspberries, wax-leaved tufts to cranberries. He stood as tourists in visors shed tears over sand-spilled ice cream, as lovers tussled in cliff-caves or took to their vans, as the ozone layer thinned almost imperceptibly, as crabs tracked. It wasn’t often he could do anything but see.

* * *

See: two girl-slivers, wind-haired, seated on driftwood. A mother grown as a full moon, instructing: this thick viscous seaweed is kelp, this edible kind dulse. Tides are caused by the moon, and erosion happens as rocks wear away under sea. These are cliff swallows and this, running in the sand with its funny stilt legs, the rare endangered piping plover.

The mother was a teacher during the school year, and every summer day she taught her own girls. The father wavered between office days and sofa chair nights, never quite there, which made the older girl feel smaller. His driftwood books cluttered the table—covers with complicated spaceships, pearly moon-cities, knights in tall helmets.

* * *

“It would be nice if you’d interact with your own children,” the mother said.

“And what type of interaction do you expect? Everything has to be a lesson with you.”

“At least I spend time with them.”

Dishes clattered in the sink. The girls said nothing.

Here on the map was North America where they lived, here Africa, Australia, and this big lump on the bottom Antarctica, too cold for people. Here the first page of a bedtime story—sound it out.

A half page in, their mother fixed things: “Night, not kuh-night. The k is silent.” The younger sister squirmed away from her storybook. The older, unnoticed, shrank into the pillow.

Add up the change in the change jar. Take these toys and divide them between mother and sisters (not father who was never in the games even when home from work, and that was expected, accepted). The older sister loved these number games best, and took to playing store with the younger and counting out change. Numbers were regular, soothing as the tides. She took to counting by twos or fives or humming multiplication tables to carry her to sleep.

The younger sister collected feathers which she kept in a jar in her room, arranging them until they were almost perfect. She was a talker, so she made friends with most kids she ran into. Sometimes she made enemies, which was interesting, too, because she and her allies would make war against them with sticky beached jellyfish and handfuls of wet sand.

The older sister wondered how it could be so easy for the younger to just walk up and join the rush and noise. The kids bickered like her parents, their games as fleeting as the family’s yearly moves from house to summer cottage to house, trailing clumsy suitcases. When they asked her to make war, she ran into a cliff cave and watched crumbs of sandstone crumble from the top. She was happiest on her own, listening to seashells and looking carefully for patterns in the rock, cradling the notebook in which she kept track of inventory for her Someday Store. The tourists who flocked to the beach would buy everything.

On the day the two sisters were walking hand in hand and a voice boomed at them from out of the cliff, naturally it was the younger who answered.

“You think you know everything about this beach, don’t you?” That was the voice, presumably some man they couldn’t see. Full-throated. Presumptuous. Unremarkable enough.

The younger sister was indignant. “Of course we don’t! But I think we know a lot.”

The voice responded with a rumble that could have been a menace or a laugh. The older sister thought she felt the sand quaver beneath her feet. Being the more practical of the pair, she asked, in spite of her uneasiness: “Who are you anyway, and where are you?”

“Look above you,” the voice said.

The girls’ small heads poked up. There atop the rocks a figure stood. His skin was the red of island sandstone, and it was hard to tell if the earth-colored folds around him were clothing or some draping extension of his body. His face was rough, like the mock faces one sometimes finds worn into rocks, and he stood larger than a human man by half. He was still, dignified in the manner of stone and ocean. The sisters found him half-formed, masklike, hideous. How to speak to a person that was not a person but a walking mass of clay?

If you enjoyed this excerpt, you can order your copy of Hard for Hope to Flourish here.

February 10, 2021

So You Want to Write in Lockdown?

How are you all doing? Here in London, we’re well into lockdown #3. Remember lockdown hobbies, and the optimism with which some people took up making homemade sourdough bread and learning new languages? If you’re like me, enthusiasm for indoor activities has waned a bit by now.

Writing is one of the things keeping me going as I work from home, socialize (as much as it’s possible to do so) from home, and veg out… all in the same general vicinity. As much as it can be a source of vitality and energy, though, it can also be hard to do consistently during this time. And people wanting to try writing for the first time while their lives have moved indoors face the additional challenge of getting started.

Here are a few things that have energized my writing at one point or another during the quarantimes.

Write socially

When working on my first book, I went to Shut Up and Write sessions where a group of writers gathered, chatted briefly, and then got down to the process of quietly writing. Sessions were timed, and with other people doing the same thing around me, I got a lot of work done. I’ve benefited from finding similar group writing sessions over Zoom where friendly people encouraged each other, shared resources and updates, and provided accountability.

Try something new

Last year (during lockdown 2), I did NaNoWriMo for the first time. I tried writing something in a new genre (romance) and format (novella). During lockdown 1, I read about short nonfiction writing, tried pitching a big publication, and ended up writing something for the Huffington Post. Setting challenges for myself and trying new things kept the writing process fresh and interesting.

Find a critique partner

Having someone else to exchange writing with keeps your manuscript from languishing forever unseen in your files. I found a fiction critique partner through social media and have been swapping work with her ever since. Having someone intelligent and responsive to exchange feedback with has been helpful and encouraging, and means I’m writing more.

Take advantage of your personal schedule

If you’re working from home now, like me, you might have gained time back from your daily commute. Try scheduling writing in that now-freed calendar space. Another way of taking advantage of your schedule is knowing your body’s clock. I’ve been reading about chronotypes, or the variations in people’s biological clocks, and recognizing why I’ve never been one of those people who got up and wrote early in the morning. I don’t have to be! We all have different times when we’re at our creative and productive peaks, and maybe learning about yours will help you get more writing done, too.

Write about what you’re experiencing

During the pandemic, I’ve helped process the stress of a radically changing life and environment by journaling (i.e. inelegantly venting about everything) and writing poems about the virus, Zoom calls, and shifting restrictions. It’s been a wonderful outlet.

…Or not

Sometimes I just want to escape the 2020s. I’ve found solace in writing fiction set in a pre-COVID world and in other, imagined worlds. Do you wish you were somewhere else? Writing can take you there!

Have you been putting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard in lockdown? What keeps you writing?

December 2, 2020

My First NaNoWriMo, or How I Wrote a Novella in a Month

I’ve posted before about NaNoWriMo, but until 2020, it was one of those things I’d thought about but never attempted. I was usually busy, and more crucially, I’ve never been fast. I’ve completed novel manuscripts, but writing 50,000 words in a month seemed like a daunting task. I was happy to cheer on other, more ambitious writers from the sidelines.

This year I spent November in lockdown. It seemed like the perfect time to give the challenge a go. I had a few opening chapters of a novella lurking in my folders, waiting for me to finish it, and I decided that NaNoWriMo would be my motivation to do that. I wasn’t sure if I’d write the full word count, but I saw other writers blogging and posting on social media about the progress they made from participating, whether or not they met that tally mark. Some used it to revise or meet other goals, like I intended to do. The tent seemed expansive and friendly.

This manuscript is the first time I’ve tried to write romance as a central focus. It’s also the first time I’ve attempted a novella, although I’ve thought at points that it might turn into a novel. It started out with two points of view, but feedback from a reader suggested that one was far more interesting than the other, so I rewrote the first part to focus on that character. I scrapped my outline and wrote by the seat of my pants, coming up with some of my ideas on long morning runs. It turned out that letting my mind wander while exercising was a great way to find inspiration.

What worked for me? Not, it turned out, joining online communities or engaging with the many passionate writers posting in great detail on forums and chat rooms. It’s wonderful to see so many passionate people creating, and I’d expected to find it motivating, but instead it gave way to something like Zoom fatigue. I joined a few groups and quickly became overwhelmed. Instead, I focused on the story I was telling. Maybe I’d socialize about it later, when it was done.

Complicating things, I had some serendipitous work projects come up for the month, so my time wasn’t as open as I’d expected. My writing stopped and started around other commitments that I didn’t want to forego. What helped throughout all that was writing regularly, in little bits almost every day. I felt closer to my characters’ lives. It was a challenge to write a new kind of story in a new genre, but word by word, it came together.

I allowed my usual writing process to take the forefront, editing as I go. That’s usually seen as a “no-no” for writers during speed events like this one, but when I tried to draft with more of a stream of consciousness, I missed letting my editorial mind improve things. I’m an editor by trade, and it turns out that I value letting that skill set shape my work. It makes the next draft smoother.

The last day was a milestone. I’d set a 25,000-word novella mark by that point and wasn’t sure if I’d achieve that word count or finish the draft. Animated by the frenzy of a student with a due date, I wrote into the evening. The story wanted to tell itself. It knew where it was going. Soon, I reached the end.

It helped to have a deadline.

I’m delighted to have given NaNoWriMo a try and met my personal goal. It was a great experience, and one I hope to repeat. NaNoWriMo writers out there, how did things go for you?

October 6, 2020

The Joy of Playing with Tropes

This month, I had a very short dragon story published in Contrary, one of my biggest literary bylines. I love dragon stories. I used to think they weren’t “serious literature,” and when I submitted for awards, I’d send pieces about death set in the “real world.” Meanwhile, I’d write secret stories about magical creatures and realms. I’ve since learned that this separation between “serious” writing and “fun” writing is artificial and counterproductive. Life is short! Write the things you love!

Just like we crave certain foods, readers can get cravings for specific types of books (and writers might crave writing them). Sometimes you just want to read about fake dating, an intrepid sleuth, or a magic sword. Cliches? Not necessarily! Storytelling thrives on tropes, and we all have favorites. Christopher contends that there are only seven basic story plots, with others citing three or six. Within variations of these stories, motifs repeat themselves. Popular motifs can become tropes.

Bad storytelling and stereotypical use of tropes can give them a bad name. Think of how many Disney villains have been given queer coding, with certain mannerisms being shorthand for characterizing them as as evil. And books in the same genre can sometimes draw on tropes to the point of predictability. But while some uses of tropes are actively harmful or simply tedious, tropes themselves are valuable storytelling tools.

It’s all in the execution. As a writer, you’re telling your story. You get to make the decisions about what tropes you use, how, and why. You can use favorite tropes as inspiration, the way Yoon Ha Lee did when writing Ninefox Gambit (“I’d been nosing about the TV Tropes website, specifically my favorite pages, Moral Event Horizon, Chessmaster, and Magnificent Bastard”). If you’ve run into writer’s block, you might try using tropes as prompts and mixing them up in unexpected ways, the way Jim Butcher did in the Codex Alera series, accepting a challenge to combine Pokemon and a lost Roman legion! If you really, really want to read a story about, say, found family and flying saucers, that might be a good reason to write one.

Here’s another important context where authors engage with tropes: when there’s a type of story that they love, but they don’t see people like themselves in stories like that. Recently publishers have been making strides towards diversifying their catalogues, with increasing attention being paid to “own voices” stories. To give two recent YA examples, you can now read a Black Cinderella story (Cinderella is Dead by Kaylynn Bayron) or a retelling of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice in a contemporary Latinx context (Never Look Back by Lilliam Rivera). Are there any tropes you feel compelled by but excluded from? Try writing yourself (or someone like you) in.

Tropes can comment on contemporary situations. I recently read Nevermoor, a popular middle-grade fantasy by Jessica Townsend, and found it rich in both tropes (the Gothic manor, the eccentric mentor) and uniqueness (the giant cat housekeeper, the umbrella-based public transit system). Most powerfully, the young main character, Morrigan, is brought from an unsafe country to a safe one, and pursued by police who call her “an illegal.” This pointed comment on immigration speaks to the fictional context while reflecting on real-life issues.

Who gets to fall in love? What makes a person exceptional? What skills solve a mystery? What does horror look like? Who gets to travel to another world, and why?

That’s my challenge to you this month, writers: Play with some tropes that intrigue you! Don’t be afraid to get weird and hyper specific. And if you like, let me know what emerges.

September 1, 2020

What to Do When Your Brain Just Won’t Write

According to coach and author Alexis Rockley, the lack of focus and creative blocks that many of us are experiencing during the coronavirus pandemic stem from the uncertainty arising from this situation. We don’t know what’s going to happen next, and our brains are overwhelmed. In this and other stressful situations, it can be hard for those of us who want to write to get any writing done.

Every writer has struggled with this at points – writer’s block, stress, and other manifestations of a mind that isn’t in any shape to create. It’s one thing if writing is our day job, and we have the external motivation of a deadline with a paycheck waiting at the end (and even then, getting the words out can sometimes be a challenge). It’s quite another when the only person counting on us to get something written is ourselves.

When your brain just won’t write, what can you do? Sometimes it’s best to recognize and care for our needs and come back to work another time rather than tiring ourselves out in the here and now. There are lots of things that can help recharge your batteries, get inspiration flowing, and move your writing career forward when your brain is stalling and the words just won’t come. Here are a few of them.

Self-Care

Rest: If you’re overwhelmed or tired, maybe you need more sleep or downtime. Listen to your body and offer yourself the rest you need.

Exercise: Like rest, we need movement in order to function. Again, listening to your body is helpful here. If you’re feeling twitchy in that office chair, maybe you need to get up and go for a jog.

Check your physical comfort: Are you hungry? Thirsty? Cold or hot? Is your furniture hurting your back? Sometimes a comfortable environment makes all the difference.

Do your to-do’s: Some writers procrastinate by doing busywork, but the opposite can also happen. If you have pressing items on your to-do list that you’re putting off, they may be hogging brain real estate that could otherwise be devoted to creativity. Look at those worrisome tasks you’re putting off and get them done.

Idea Generation

Read (or engage with other arts): Reading keeps writers engaged with words and stories, and can be a wellspring of ideas. So can taking in other forms of art, whether that’s looking at paintings or binging Netflix shows. Feel free to re-engage with old favorites too.

Research: Like your to-do list, this is some writers’ favored procrastination tool, but it’s also productive. Read and learn about topics that interest you or that are related to your writing project, or try something new and out of your comfort zone. You never know what will spark an idea.

World build: Act like a kid and make things up! Draw an imaginary map. Invent a lollipop land. Dream up a new animal. If you already have a created world as part of your writing, play around with adding things onto it.

Learn your craft: Take a writing class, attend an event, or listen to a podcast. Try something that will teach you new elements or angles on writing and expand your horizons.

The Business of Writing

Pitch or submit: When the words aren’t coming, that can be a good time to submit and query the pieces you’ve already finished. You can try pitching ideas for new pieces as well, or pitching rejected ideas to other publications.

Edit: Try rereading your drafts with an editorial eye. See what would benefit from being rewritten. Reading your work aloud can be helpful here, as can exchanging critiques with writer friends.

Build your social media or web presence: It helps to have a presence and network online. Reach out, make connections, and put yourself (and your work) out there. Find people who will want to read your work once you get back to writing it.

Build relationships: As with the above, it’s useful to connect with others in the writing world. Try attending events (virtual ones count, of course), joining a writers’ group, or going to a conference. Keep in touch with the people you meet and like.

If you just can’t write right now, truly, it’s OK. A writer is someone who writes – but you don’t have to write all the time in order to qualify for the title. There are lots of things you can do that will contribute to your writing when the words won’t come. I promise that blank page will still be there, ready for you to get started.

July 1, 2020

A Little Thing That Went Big

Last month, I had a personal essay published on Huffington Post. I wrote about the challenges of being petite and mistaken for someone much younger on a regular basis. It was a small essay, about being small. I never expected it to go so big.

As a mostly literary writer, I had a decent track record of acceptances scattered among my big pile of rejections. My bylines had appeared in poetry journals and niche online magazines. I hadn’t published in many known venues, and I hadn’t tried to. I was intimidated, believing I lacked connections, know-how, and good ideas. One of my goals while working from home during the COVID-19 pandemic, after my freelance work went quiet, was to pitch bigger venues and land something beyond my comfort zone.

I picked up a book called The Byline Bible recommended in a Facebook group. The author, Susan Shapiro, has a great track record of publication and teaches courses on publishing non-fiction (I’m talking pragmatic nuts-and-bolts, not the “find your voice” stuff of my creative writing degree). I found her tips on pitching stories to be valuable. The HuffPost editor was interested in my personal essay topic right after I sent it, and accepted my article after substantial edits to draw out the themes. The editorial team smoothed over my literary stylings, adding click-ready quotes and a sensational title: “I’m An Adult Who Is Constantly Mistaken for a 12-Year-Old. This Is What My Life Is Like.”

They should have called it “A Woman Publishes An Essay. You Won’t Believe What Happened Next!” My social media outlets and inboxes were flooded with messages. I thought a few people would like the post on Facebook and then I’d make dinner, but the likes and comments kept pouring in. For the first few days, I tried to reply to everything. Then I discovered a further bunch of messages hidden in my Spam folder and gave up.

Most of the messages were from people who related to the article: petite women, shorter men, skinny and baby-faced folks who are mistaken for being younger, and various people who experience body shaming, judgment, or being physically “othered” in some form. Some sought advice (my recommendations are to cultivate and focus on skills and things that matter to you; this won’t make physical judgments go away but it will give you something to live for and be proud of).

A few people mentioned that my article had made them reflect on the impact of their words, a message I was honored to hear. Older readers shared “epilogues”: for some, strangers’ perceptions had improved as they got older; for others, they emphatically had not. Many thanked me and noted that this was the first time they had seen their experiences and struggles reflected in print. “I’m not alone,” many voices chorused.

On the day after my essay was published, I got a message starting “I saw your article in The Sun…” What?! I googled it and found that not one, but two British tabloids had printed stories based on my essay. Both had scoured my public social media for photographs to add to their paraphrases and quotes from my piece. Each had its own angle, focusing on the “outlandish” story without articulating the point I made at the end of my essay (that I hope the pandemic might lead people to focus more on resilience and less on judging each other’s physicality).

My first reaction was to laugh. How could anyone consider this news? My editor later confirmed that tabloids sometimes pick up stories from Huffington Post, but generally just the highly trafficked ones. It was truly bizarre to see my old, unflattering photos on the internet. However, I was grateful to have chosen my public presence carefully. Nothing in the tabloid articles went beyond “slightly awkward.” When you control your own angles and tell your own story, there is only so much that others can find on you.

Over the last month, things have simmered back to normal for my daily life following these 15 minutes of internet fame. A few more eyes are following my earnest little writing posts, and I hope that something in there speaks to them too. Regardless of the tabloid weirdness, internet trolls, and few unkind messages (another lesson from all of this is that my skin is thicker than I realized), I’m grateful that my words resonated with so many. If you’ve found my blog post through my “looking 12” essay, welcome. Welcome, and thank you, to everyone who’s seen themselves in my little-big story. You’re not alone. You are so much less alone than you might think.

April 6, 2020

The Bestseller Experiment: Can You Write a Bestselling Book in a Year?

For two years, I’ve wanted to go to London Book Fair. This year I was finally going to get there, accompanying colleagues to look after ICE Publishing’s stand, network, and learn. Then, as you can probably guess, the fair was cancelled due to the coronavirus. The sound reason did not dim my disappointment. Despite the cancellation, though, I got one good thing out of the London Book Fair: acquaintance with the Bestseller Experiment.

When reading through the list of Insights Seminars planned for the fair, I saw that there was a live episode planned for the Bestseller Experiment podcast. The name intrigued me. A bestseller is a big promise. What could a “bestseller experiment” be and how did it work? I looked the podcast up and discovered it was created by two British men, both named Mark, who sought to write, edit, publish, and market a bestselling book in a year. What an awesomely audacious goal! I began listening, and soon I was hooked.

The pair of podcasters make appealing foils for each other. Mark Stay is a seasoned writer, with a novel and movie to his name, and a veteran employee of the traditional publishing industry. With the benefits and cynicism of experience, he acts as the podcast’s pessimist, skeptical of the likelihood of success but game to go forward. Mark Desvaux, a Canada-based life coach who’d started books prior to the podcast but hadn’t finished them, is the pair’s optimist, bringing enthusiastic belief in their success and a sense of spirituality to offset his co-host’s national outlook. It’s fun to listen to the two Marks bouncing off each other. What really makes the podcast shine, though, is the caliber of its interviews.

From the get-go, Mark and Mark interview industry professionals and bestselling authors of both traditional and indie titles. They set out to find the “secret sauce” that makes a book or an author into a bestseller, speaking to the likes of Bryan Cranston, Joanne Harris, Joe Abercrombie, Michelle Paver, Shannon Mayer, and professionals from NaNoWriMo, Kindle Direct Publishing, authors, agents, editors, and more. All the interviewees speak lucidly and eloquently about their craft and share a wealth of knowledge about the industry. Their writing journeys differ, from those who have worked in obscurity for years before having a sales or publishing “breakthrough” to early success stories, from those who hate revision to those who love it, but all share a belief in writing success because they have all experienced it. Every episode I’ve listened to so far has been worth the time, and all have left me with a feeling of hope.

What bestselling secrets has the podcast shared? So far, the interviewed authors share a belief in taking yourself seriously as a writer (most of them write every day and set themselves word counts), having deadlines (I share their experience of writing faster when somebody gives me a due date), and writing about topics that matter to you. Again and again, the authors reiterate that you can’t write a bestseller cynically, and that good books come out of love of the subject you’re writing about. Many of them recommend go-to books on the craft of writing, and some share marketing tips. Editors and agents encourage writers not to worry about trends and to write what they’re interested in. The need for self-care when writing is also explored.

The Marks also share the stages of their journey in writing a book. In one of my favorite episodes, Ben Aaronovitch tells them off for writing a 50,000-word “outline”! I also enjoyed listening to the Marks discuss an editor’s critique of their manuscript. Since they wrote about a female protagonist, the editor suggested using a female pseudonym, and I’m pleased to note that they succeeded without one (though Mark Desvaux used the shorter pen name ‘Mark Oliver’). It’s no spoiler to note that the Marks indeed wrote and self-published a Kindle bestselling novel in a year. Back to Reality is a fast-paced story about time-travel, body swapping and the lives one could have lived. Its success doesn’t surprise me given the excellence of the Marks’ podcasting platform, but it does make me smile. They did it! And the podcast is still going and growing, with many of their listeners publishing books including more bestsellers. If you’ve ever dreamed of writing a bestseller, you might enjoy listening to it, too. Thank you, London Book Fair!

March 3, 2020

Following The Artist’s Way Again, Over 10 Years Later

Five pelicans groom themselves in St. James’ Park, London, during one of my Artist Dates.

During the first year of my undergraduate studies, I encountered a book called The Artist’s Way. A classmate who’d completed a visual arts program told me about the volume and how his class had used it at art school. Julia Cameron’s book has sold over 3 million copies and inspired countless artists, but this was my first encounter with it. I was intrigued by my friend’s stories of how the book inspired an outpouring of productivity and gave him the courage to use masses of high-quality paint rather than being stingy. I wanted to check this book out myself.

I found a copy of The Artist’s Way in a used bookstore. One of my classes at the time involved a project in which we all found something we’d always wanted to do and did it. I’d always wanted to paint, and I used this book as inspiration. I started writing Morning Pages, following Cameron’s practice of writing three pages longhand every morning in which you vent, brainstorm, and babble. I went on Artist Dates, inspiring solo outings, though I no longer remember where I went.

I did Cameron’s exercises, listing activities I’d always wanted to do and “secret selves” who reflected aspects of my personality that I didn’t typically express. To be candid, I only made my way partway through the book, but by the end of the year, I had in fact learned to paint. I hung some of my pieces in my dorm room, and painting entered the repertoire of arts I practiced and believed myself capable of doing. I also tried out other art forms, writing a good song and a not-as-good-but-still-finished musical. The Artist’s Way, even imperfectly followed, was a wellspring of inspiration. Once the year ended, inspired and enlivened, I moved on.

Near the end of 2019, over a decade later, an intriguing call for submissions got me writing a fantasy short story on the commute to and from my editing job. I got started but alternated between chipping away at the story and sitting there with a muddled, unproductive brain. I wanted to keep up my momentum, to keep writing, so I found myself picking up a tool I hadn’t used in years: the Morning Pages.

On mornings when my brain wasn’t up to the task, I used my time on the London tube to ramble in my notebook about what was happening in my life. From there, spurred on by seeing a friend posting about The Artist’s Way on social media, I began to follow the book in earnest. My story coaxed me into taking a second walk down the Artist’s Way.

A lot has changed since my first half-finished use of Cameron’s tools. I’ve moved from the creatively nurturing nest that my university provided for me to the daily routine of a full-time job, moving in a circuitous path that’s included freelancing, multiple careers, and entrepreneurship. I’ve lived in three different countries. I’ve published a successful book and dozens of short pieces. Having come from a place of early success, I’ve also become very familiar with failure. I’ve been prolific at times, blocked at times, and overly reticent with submissions. The drive of creative inspiration has at many points given way to the need to get things done.

This need has given me a new perspective on The Artist’s Way. I’m discovering that it is, in fact, an ingenious organizational tool. The Morning Pages remind me of forgotten items to check off my to-do list and help me organize my creative projects. Sometimes bits of writing emerge from the pages, but more often than not they resemble vacuuming – getting the mind clean and ready for work. The Artist Dates have taken me on walks around the neighborhood where I work, enjoying the splendors of Buckingham Palace and St. James’ Park, becoming familiar with the birds and flowers there. For some, Artist Dates bring a welcome sense of adventure. For me, they’ve brought a deeper connection and grounding in my surroundings.

The first time I tried The Artist’s Way, I was much closer to being that “artist child” that Cameron wants her readers to reconnect with inside themselves. I was less familiar with the challenges of the marketplace and had largely received encouragement in my writing and creative pursuits. I’d experienced the sting of some failures, but not on the scale that adulthood would bring. With this context, the encouragement offered by The Artist’s Way has been much more powerful the second time around.

Engaging with the book’s exercises has not been easy. They’ve opened old wounds and questions about my future. However, the changes have been profound. I’d expected to discover an exotic array of new interests or begin engaging with new art forms the way I did last time. Instead, my inner voice piped up loud and clear that I want to write and need to fight for that desire.

I was reminded of being eight years old and imagining that I would someday write all the things I read – mystery novels, advertisements, nature magazines, newspapers, everything! I remembered submissions that got lost and wondered why I hadn’t followed up. I became determined to follow that voice urging me to write all kinds of things, write what’s fun, and not put limits on myself. It’s okay that I want to be focused right now, that I don’t want to crochet or make a podcast. It’s okay that I’m scared to fail over and over. I’m determined to listen to my inner voice and honor that eight-year-old’s dreams.

So, what’s changed in my life since beginning my second journey with The Artist’s Way? I’ve written a short story and several poems, begun a novella in a new genre, finished revising a manuscript and submitting it to my first round of agents, and embarked upon a “100 submissions a year” challenge. (I’m going for submissions rather than rejections because it’s a concrete goal within my control. One of these has already turned into an acceptance, and I’m certainly not sulking about it!)

I’ve taken the initiative to create a blog for authors at my job. I’ve come up with several ideas for potential writing projects. I’ve started learning about linguistics and spent a morning picking up a few phrases in Swahili. I’ve gotten back in touch with some old friends, reached out to my great-aunt about family recipes, and grown very familiar with the pelicans of St. James’ Park. Fear, realism, and cynicism tango with hope and the excitement of infinite possibilities. Here I stand, in the middle of the Artist’s Way, and this time I’m determined to make it to the end.

Have you tried The Artist’s Way? What was your experience like?