A new year, so many opportunities. That’s what we all love about New Year’s, right? The chance to start anew, break out of our molds, become a better, shinier version of ourselves, and finally, grab that brass ring of success. I’m up for change, most days, so I can think of many ways to improve myself, from learning a new language to becoming more fit. The world is full of opportunities, even for an older writer like me.
But know what I hate about New Year’s? The concept of resolutions. Of setting specific goals and striking out to meet them. That seems very limiting to me. What if, part way through the year, a disaster like Covid happens, and all of a sudden, we all have to learn how to live in isolation, as we did in 2020? We need to be light on our feet to meet the unforeseen circumstance. Suddenly, a resolution to travel more widely looks impossible. Or, maybe, one has an epiphany about oneself, say, that one has become too dependent on one person, someone not wholly truthful, and one feels a sudden need to change course? (That hasn’t happened to me, but it did to a friend of mine.) You see what I mean? I want to be free to change course without unfinished business like incomplete resolutions hanging over me.
I am fortunate in that I have been married to the same person for forty-four years now, so no new romantic escapades for me. No, not even if the worst happens, which at this stage of our life, we both know could be. One doesn’t need a perfect Beaujolais after sipping a superb Perrier-Jouet. Skip that. I love Beaujolais, some years more than others. Well, another metaphor in the dust.
Ah! But writing. There, one can always improve, but need not be stuck to one project like whiteout to a page. Indeed, I don’t think I could ever stick to one writing project, no matter how many stories I hear about the focus of geniuses like Joyce or the determination of Louisa May Alcott in her cold attic. For example, for the moment, I am working on a new novel, always writing poems as the lines occur, and I love taking on a quick project, like a little 101-word short story, which will appropriately occupy my time while my subconscious tries to work out what a totally new character’s voice can add to my novel’s theme. (Not that I have ever successfully written a 101-word story, but it’s something I like to try now and then. Want to try yourself? Go to Read some great 101-word stories.)
What could always use some work is my writing habits. There, a constant need for improvement allows for making and keeping, not resolutions, but better intentions.
So here are my intentions for 2023. Take it as advice if you need some from a seasoned writer. Or maybe just hold me to account, in which case I will break open a new bottle of Beaujolais and tell you what happened this next year.
Use my calendar like my life depends on it. In the past, I’ve scheduled time specifically for writing, and that worked for me; I produced more. The chaos of life took over, and I lost the habit. This year, I intend to schedule more and move back into a better writing rhythm. I also schedule time to submit, generally every Friday, and that has made me more likely to get work out the door, knowing that task comes at the end of the week.
Find a slightly larger writing group. In the past year, I have scheduled time with a dear friend who also wanted to complete a project. She has helped me enormously. In the past, I’ve had writing groups, but lately found myself running them, which I don’t feel I have time to do. So I need a few more dedicated writers who are serious about specific projects to share and bounce ideas and pages off of—strange metaphor, isn’t it? I’ll work on that.
Continue to define my writing universe. In the past year, I found myself pursuing some rather ephemeral projects, like trying to become expert in flash fiction. I achieved a few pieces now making the submission rounds, but it has become clear to me that this is not my metier. I am a poet, a brooder on heavy topics, a lover of big ideas. The first, poetry, can help in flash if one doesn’t get carried away. The last two, brooding and big ideas, does not help at all in being concise. However, being concise does help readers, so I’ll still write the occasional flash for practice, even though I’ve decided to focus more on my novel projects, in which I can sprawl a bit with my prose. I’ll finish some longer short stories, as well. But I’ll focus on the longer pieces.
NOTE: As more journals have moved online, many have sought shorter pieces that might be defined as flash. One sees often, “not more than 1000 words.” A few will extend to 2000 and even fewer to 3000 words or more. If you are a concise writer and can complete a story idea briefly, I recommend flash because it is what the lit market will bear. I also along my flash exploration ran into a lovely person who teaches, short, affordable flash workshops, the so-called “Queen of Flash” herself, Kathy Fish. Find Kathy here. I strongly recommend both her free Substack newsletter and her workshops. If you are, like me, a little wordier, use search engines like Submittable to find journals seeking longer prose. Find Submittable here.
I also have come to terms this year with the kind of fiction I write. Some of the current requests from journals seek the unusual, the bizarre, or the extremely confessional. Vampires, witches, speculative abounds. That is not what I do. No problem with those characteristics, it’s just not me, except for a certain flair for magical realism. Dorothy Allison scared me half to death in a workshop in 2005 by telling me that my work reminded her of Ron Rash. That is, I write about so-called “ordinary” people and their issues, problems, inner workings. (I was scared because I aspired secretly to write as well as Rash; it was like she was seeing into my soul. It’s no longer a secret; I wanta do it.) And I write mostly about poor––at most middle class––Appalachian, Southern, sometimes Midwestern, people, going about their business and solving the bigger dilemmas of life without much help. That’s what I know best. Doesn’t mean I will never write about the wealthy or very fortunate––in fact, one project in my drawer concerns an upper-class young woman who has to resolve a huge moral dilemma concerning her family––but it’s not the heart of what I do. I have embraced those central concerns and will use my imagination to make such people come alive. If a composite of wealthy people I have known wanders into the picture and fits, so be it. I’m not a class snob, just working what I know, where I come from. Okay, maybe I am a class snob, but only because attending a fairly exclusive college on scholarship with so many wealthy youngsters taught me that the rich have big problems finding something good to do with their wealth. (Today’s news teaches the same lesson, don’t you think?)
Read more widely. I’m not a fast reader. When I was eight to eighteen, I whizzed through five or more library books a week. I don’t have that kind of time to devote to it now. However, I do need to read much more in order to have new examples for my Inspiration Shelf. So I will go back to my nearly lifelong habit of reading fiction or poetry every day. It served me well, but I found myself, oddly, responding to the pandemic by having less ability to concentrate on reading. I’ll change that, because it’s in my best interest. And yours, too, I hope, dear reader.
Give yourself the gift of writing retreats. I’m near the end of a new novel and find myself needing time and space to do the kind of editing—cutting and pasting, eliminating or adding minor characters, and actively slashing—that gets the work ready to go out. It’s best done, alone, in a hotel room. I’ve not given myself this gift in the past five years, and it shows in my failure to complete larger projects. So I’ll change that in order to get the work out. Nothing like passing seventy to light a fire under yourself.
So those are my intentions for the year. Think they sound much like resolutions? Here’s the difference: I’ve been around long enough to understand that if I don’t achieve my goals, I’m not a bad person. Just an ordinary, stressed, much-bedeviled person doing her best. So let me hold my good intentions lightly, if resolutely.
By the way, what are yours? Watch for a chat link to discuss them.
Here’s a treat for you!
Save the date: February 2, 11: am EST, 2 pm PST, I’ll do an interview with the intriguing Katie Manning. You can listen in and maybe Katie will have time for questions.
Katie wrote a whole book of poems using games as metaphors for her comments, questions, and insights about life. The result is the fascinating How to Play: Poems Inspired by Games, out in 2022 from Louisiana Literature Press. Here’s a quote from the poem You Always Let Me Win at Candyland:
I never knew you were cheating, but Mom said you were going to make me a bad sport. If you could speak now, what would you say? I just loved to see you happy. . . And you'd play love so I would be the one to find it, like our favorite card--the layered ice cream bar that never melts.
Katie Manning is the founding editor of Whale Road Review and a professor of writing at Point Loma Nazarene University. Her recent collections are How to Play (Louisiana Literature) and 28,065 Nights (River Glass), and her next book, Hereverent, will be published by Agape Editions in Spring 2023. Her poem “What to Expect” was featured on season 3 of the Poetry Unbound podcast. Find her online at Katie's web page and on Twitter at Katie's Twitter handle.
Find a link to purchase Katie’s book on her website, linked above, and watch also for her new book, Hereverent, from Agape.
NEWS: I’ve hired a publicist, Darlyn Finch Kuhn of Brad Kuhn and Associates. I’ve known Darlyn ever since we attended a workshop with Connie May Fowler that led to my novel, Eve’s Garden, and her novel, Sewing Holes. But working with her to publicize my new book of poetry, Weaver’s Knot: Poems is something else. (No, like most small presses, my publisher does not have an in-house publicist.) I’ve described it as being a bit like studying under a hilarious schoolmarm. I’ve no doubt she will crack the whip as needed, but we’ll also have fun.
Join Team Glenda! The thing is, neither Darlyn nor I can do this massive thing called publicizing a book by ourselves. It’s time-consuming and expensive (Hello, paid reviewers!) and I’m generally overwhelmed by it. Darlyn will set up a book tour for me, but there’s so much more to do. This year, I’ll take you through the process with me as we hit our goals (—or not! That’s the scary part.) And I’ll talk about what you can do to help. I will have available free .pdfs of the book and some treats for each team member, as well as my heartfelt thanks.
For right now, there are a few things that need to be scheduled ahead that you may be able to help with.
Do you have a suggestion for where I should read? You could ask them to schedule a reading with me and send me the info using the contact button here.
Maybe you teach a class where poems about connections to land and family is appropriate? Please schedule me for a visit.
Do you belong to a book club that schedules ahead? Please suggest Weaver’s Knot for the club. Also, I am happy to visit for a reading or talk!
Lastly, please watch for my publication announcement and a list of other things you can do, not just for me, but for other authors you like.
REMEMBER WHAT I ALWAYS SAY: I never do anything that isn’t fun! I’d love to have fun with you.
What's the book about? I think it’s fair to say it’s about connections—to land, to place, to generations, to the wider world. Here’s what Gayle Brandeis, author of Drawing Breath and Many Restless Concerns, said about it:
"'Everything’s a song, I say,' writes Glenda Bailey-Mershon, and this collection is indeed full of song—poems that skat and pulse and pluck and stir, poems that sing with the ancestors and cartwheel out to the stars. Bailey-Mershon dedicates Weaver’s Knot in part to 'the women in my family who tied knots so fine they’ve held for generations.' The knots she ties in this beautiful collection are equally fine, equally lasting—fibers of language wrapped in golden light."
Gayle also wrote Fruitflesh: Seeds of Inspiration for Women Who Write, as well as other books.
Good-bye for now, and, as always, please like, share, and comment. I miss you when you don’t!
