How do you know you’re a writer? I struggle with this question while readying my second book, a novel, The House, for publication in fall 2009.
I graduated my MFA program–Goddard College, Port Townsend, Washington–in July 2006. The afternoon following commencement I was fortunate enough to open my e-mail and see a publisher’s request to review the mss of MFA thesis, a collection of short stories, Keeper of Secrets…Translations of an Incident. That publisher went on to bring my collection of interconnected short stories to print in June 2007, one month shy of having earned my MFA.
For various reasons relating to the state of publishing, the economy and the demands upon my personal life and my commitment to family and my artistry I have, with the incredible support and underwriting of my husband chosen to self publish The House. With conscious effort I chose not to seek an agent nor publisher for this work.
That is not to say that The House will not be traditionally published. Moments after speaking over the phone with a typesetter three months after I’d forwarded them my mss, the publisher called to say they wanted to publish Keeper of Secrets…Translations of an Incident.
If a writer is not prepared to put a work out into the world under their own decisive power and promote it, they might want to ask why some other person would or should.
You, the writer—whether traditionally or self-published–must sell your work to readers.
I can say many things about the launch of my first work of fiction into the world. Yet there are two things of which I am most proud. Keeper of Secrets…Translations of an Incident contains the work of my heart. The stories hold the artistic vision of what I want all my works of fiction to reflect.
Regarding craft, the stories exemplify my personal best–at that time. I cannot say enough about how wonderful my publisher was, both in the process of choosing my cover and assisting and guiding me in bringing the stories to their ultimate brilliance.
During the editing process I was not asked to make changes that diminished the dream held within the kernel of each story. The stories in Keeper of Secrets…Translations of an Incident are sound in craft and artistry.
Could I have written better stories?
Perhaps.
Could I revise certain portions if given the opportunity?
Yes
A staunch perfectionist, I believe that things can always be improved upon.
Yet a priest once urged that perfection can become the enemy, if not death, of good. His warning holds me steady in this time of doubt and fear–ruminating upon whether I will meet the mark I established with Keeper of Secret…Translations of an Incident, if not ideally step beyond. It is at this point that those like myself benefit in learning and knowing, when and where not to join hands with the desire to have all and everyone like our work–a variation on the illusion of perfection–a masquerade in and of itself.
For this reason, if presented the opportunity to change the stories in Keeper of Secrets…Translations of an Incident–whether for re-publication, etc., I would decline.
I have improved upon my ability to write fiction since the publication of the work.
That I had written them displayed a far-flung feat that in my opinion should never have happened.
A novel writer by birth into the world of writing, I chose to create a MFA thesis consisting of short stories because Goddard allowed me the space, safety and nurturance within which to attempt something that I greatly feared failing to achieve–writing a short story.
Short stories are incredibly hard to write. And I am by no means an accomplished short story writer. Yet writing them improves and refines the writer’s ability to craft novels. One thinks they have a year and a day in which to write a novel. Not so.
Attempting to write the short story shows how little time, and the immensity of work and stamina the writer expends to engage the reader and ensure the dream- state their story ideally manifests is not broken until the reader reaches the last period.
In the best of worlds the truly engaged reader retains an air of the aroma surrounding their reading of the story, ever how long or short, long after they have finished the work. They ultimately yearn for more.
And so when chancing upon, or hearing about a succeeding work of so-named author, the reader jumps to buy the artist’s latest creation, bringing with her or him, others to whom she or he has raved about the work. And they having read it seek to gain more of what this author’s words deliver.
Gabriel Garcia Marquez sums up the task of short stories by saying, and I paraphrase, While a novel allows the writer to go from first base, to second and so forth in his trek back to where he first begun, the short story forever requires he hit a home run.
But isn’t that asking perfection of the writer with every short story she or he writes?
Quite frankly I’d like every novel I write to land a home run.
Alas, I am yet to publish at least one novel.
With 10 short stories in publication I would be proud to have 1o novels written with equal quality of artistry, engagement and craft as my short stories have garnered in reviews from readers and reviewers.
The writer, whose work most inspires me, and whose accomplishments in number of stories written, I seek to equal is Nella Larsen. I can only hope to approach the level of quality of her work. She wrote but three published short stories and two novels.
I am humbled in that life and the divine allowed me the grace of delivering 10 short stories in to publication.
And what of my novel? The House
I am work hard at making all the necessary revisions and edits that will allow the message of my words to reach readers in as unfettered a fashion as possible when The House enters the market in fall 2009.e
I pray that The House will reach the level of quality and accomplishment of Keeper of Secrets…Translations of an Incident. That I am launching this work into the world under my own auspices and not that of a traditional publisher makes this an even more eventful, emotionally challenging and meaningful process.
And should it succeed…will I then be a writer?
I fear that I am one now. And just don’t know it.