Category: 365

The Loss of Real Literary Journals and Publishers

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Many of my publications have been in literary journals of one type or another. I haven’t minded the small fee, once in awhile, for submission. 

But I have noticed fees have skyrocketed while many journals have gone online.

What’s worse is the slush pile of new “literary” journals asking for enormous fees. It’s disturbing and disgusting.

Questionable people with little or no credentials offering publication ONLINE. While they don’t guarantee publication, they are asking for fees and then one place even asked for payment for the publication in advance!

Submittable does charge a fee to journals to list their calls, but their fees are not in line with what is being asked by these questionable entities. (I hesitate to call them publishers).

Humans of the World is a website that asks for $6.00 fee to submit to their blog. Authors/writers pay to have their work on this blog? A quick tour of their website offers no publisher information – who is this run by? Who reads the submissions? How are submissions chosen? It appears they’ve been in business since 2022.

Poet’s Choice, based in Mumbai, has a number of calls, one is for word poems. I spotted an error in their call. There appears to be no fee requested – until you get to their submission page. Then they have a whole array of payment selections.

So – why haven’t I published in awhile? Look around – the publishing industry that we once knew is history.

I’m struggling to find reputable places to publish – as are many authors. Amazon takes many liberties with authors and they bought Ingram/Spark. Independent publishing is in question.

Credible journals are being lost. Publishers are extremely selective – they want someone with a large following for guaranteed sales. They do little to no promotion.

I have submitted some poems to a publisher, but then someone else showed me how they submitted an AI poem to the same publisher. I’m wondering if that is what I’m competing with. I’m looking forward to seeing the results of acceptance.

I’m not sure what will happen, where we will go, or where I might land. But I’m a writer. I keep writing.

On the Eve of a New Year, Some Thoughts on Change.

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As we straddle yet another old and new year, let’s think of the person we want to be and/or the kind of world we want to live in.

So many complain about the world – the rise of unhappiness and anger which makes us dread interactions.

Each one of us, on our own, have the power to change the world.

Any large change starts small, begins with one, then moves to some; it inspires others, and a movement grows with each new person who joins.

In considering our goals, our resolutions for the New Year, let us add to that list an effort to be kind, be patient.

Hear me out – if we come across someone who is driving like a Manhatter chasing a white rabbit, instead of reacting in anger, whether they cut us off or not, we could react with compassion- perhaps they’ve had a bad day, are upset with something, did not even realize they were driving aggressively.

With any little tresspass, a rude servant, a thoughtless shopper, a random stranger behaving questionably – We can choose to act instead of react. We can choose to walk away or step back.

Smile more this year. Forgive the little things. Give a random stranger a compliment.

To help, to start your day on a positive note, write three things every morning you are grateful for. They can be small things – like birdsong – or big things like health. We rarely think of health or being pain-free until we are ill or injured. Be grateful for what you have. Foster the attitude of gratitude to fill your well and pay it forward in gentle, loving, kindness.

I am thankful for this new year – welcome 2024! May I be better than I was in 2023.

I wish us all love, may we be met with patience when we need it, acknowledge kindness when we see it, and offer thoughtful gestures to those who are working on their own goals.

HAPPY 2024!

The Atomic AI

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Oppenheimer serves as a parallel to what is happening in our world now with AI. They created something to expedite the end of the war, but it was destructive. Once the genie was out of the bottle, there was no putting it back in, there was no containing it or controlling it. The Atomic Bomb changed the world.

AI is changing the world. There is no containing it or controlling it.

The writer’s strike is about so much more than many understand. AI can replace all the writers in Hollywood and beyond. The future of television shows and movies can be/ may be created by AI, but this is about the Actors too. AI cannot only duplicate images but create and manipulate images. The future need for actors is questionable.

Wait, there’s more. AI may displace a whole industry of people. The grips and gaffers, the drivers and all the others who count on making a living around this industry. Beyond them, there’s a whole group of businesses and people that serve these people.

Christopher Nolan didn’t use CGI to replicate the blast of the atomic bomb in Oppenheimer. I wonder if he is a hold out, if he values the activities of creation and replication without the use of computer generated scenes and images. I don’t honestly know.

While I sat in the theater, I wondered what it might like to see a movie in 5 or 10 years without the use of writers or actors; the whole thing created on a computer screen. Would we be able to tell? Would we see the differences between the way humans move and AI generated images move? Would we be enjoying our AI movie with lab grown hamburgers?

Where does that leave writers – novelists and short story writers? I imagine AI can write a novel faster than any of us. A short story might be executed in mere minutes, rather than days, weeks, or months of perfecting.

Will our originality win out? Or will people start preferring what AI can generate? Perhaps readers won’t know the difference.

Does my purpose continue to have place or value? I write. I have always written. I will continue to write. But will it ever see the light of day or will it perish unread and unknown?

Writing and Critique Groups

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Many years ago, I belonged to my first writing/critique group. In the beginning, it was great to get together, talk about writing, and read each other’s work. We were all novice writers.

There was a session when one member, the most critical of all of us, spent the whole time helping a single writer with the few pages she submitted. We didn’t get to the rest. None of us were too worried about it. The point was to help one another. The following session, however, the same member looked at my pages and threw up her hands, “I don’t even know what to do with this.” And she offered nothing. The rest of the group was as surprised as I was.

I don’t know what about those pages ticked her off that she wouldn’t respond to them but driving home that day I realized I was not in the right group. I didn’t attend again, and the group disbanded soon after.

Finding the right group has to be one of the hardest tasks a writer faces. Of course, we want writers equal to or better so the feedback is helpful. Personalities matter as well. If there is someone who waxes too critical without being helpful or another who is overly helpful and won’t be critical – neither is furthering the work.

Some writers might have different values.

One writing group was run by a well known editor. She had a certain way of doing things and everyone needed to do it her way. I respected her opinion. We got on well, even if sometimes we disagreed. One woman quit after a month. She didn’t see how all of our very different work and styles benefited from sounding all the same.

I stayed with that group a little longer, valuing the feedback I received. But then it was time to move on.

My writing and critique partner who lasted the longest offered me the greatest feedback. The more we read each other’s work, the more we talked about our goals for each individual piece, the better partners we became. And, we became lifelong friends along the way. Her work is sensitive, detailed, almost understated. And even though our writing was different, we understood each other’s voice and values. We were able to give each other helpful feedback on a regular basis. Her infirmities have left her without a creative streak. And as she tries to heal, I cannot ask her to read my work.

The few writer’s conferences I’ve attended have drawn people to me – but they are looking for a teacher, a mentor, and I can’t mentor all of them and still have time to write.

There were a few authors I would like to remain in contact with, but they have their own critique groups and want to charge outsiders for their services.

Critique services are good for editing, perhaps some are good for storylines. But trusting someone who doesn’t know you or your goals often ends with needs unmet and the critique unsatisfying.

Maybe a writer doesn’t need a writing group or critique group after a certain point. But writing is so solitary,it helps to surround oneself with like minded individuals.

Rage Writing

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Lately, I’ve struggled to write. Distractions or, maybe, a war with writer’s block. Ideas bloom, but nothing flourishes.

I moved from my comfort zone. That lovely, warm death of a comfort zone. We should destroy them all! I started going elsewhere to write. Many of us write escape the comfort and distractions of home by fleeing to the local coffee house the house. The noise, the activity, and the lack of chores calling to us helps.

The other day, errands unending, I dropped everything – except my computer – and rushed out of the house. While driving, I considered everything I would write as soon as I arrived.

Yet, as I lucked into a good seat, grabbed a cuppa – my creative mind became dark, dank, and blank.

Frustrated, I opened another document and poured it all out. I wrote out everything that annoyed me, pissed me off, enraged me for the last while. Things I wouldn’t normally complain about.

It worked! My writing flowed!

Often, to glow in gratitude, I push off those little annoyances, small worries, not wanting to complain about things that aren’t that big of a deal or will, sooner or later, resolve themselves. But, now I wonder.

Has my lack of complaining mean I’ve been holding back?

Sitting at home this morning, I opened the story I’ve been working on and ….. notta.

I opened my other document, the one I am now going to call RAGE, and wrote. It’s a freewrite of all my worries, concerns, annoyances, little things like the broken light to larger things that aren’t working out as planned. I don’t hold back.

Ah… FREEDOM!

In a few minutes, I switched over to my current story and found flow. My story is coming together. I’ve accomplished more in the last week than I have the whole three weeks prior. I feel more focused, clear, and able to make decisions about the direction of the story.

Try this, please! If you’re struggling with a story, or writing in general, just start rage writing whatever comes to mind, and then take a deep breath, and move over to your story. Let me know if it works for you!

AI Fiction – are the last vestiges of humanity disappearing?

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For the first time, I saw a call for fiction with a warning about AI submissions.

Is this what we, as writers, have to contend with now? I’m pretty confident in my fiction and the originality, the use of language, etc. Do I have to compete with AI in writing good fiction or original fiction? I’m just not certain how this will work for writers. (I suppose this is partly what the writers’ strike is about).

I was concerned enough about students using it in the classroom and we are told “not to worry, work it in with exercises.” Uhm, why? I’m trying to teach my student writers how to form sentences, create meaning, develop paragraphs and write to include their own beautiful and important opinions and ideas. Why am I going to say – hey, let’s see how well AI can write this idea? The students are concerned enough about their skills; if we show them that AI can indeed write it better, will they bother to improve?

Writing takes time and practice. I put in my 10,000 hours. (plus!) One can not develop those skills overnight.

Many seem to believe writing is a skill you’re born with. How will I convince students and writers that it’s the work, it’s the blood, sweat, and tears, that will bring about beautifully written prose and it will have all been worth it?

When you see for yourself that you can do it, when you write something that you never thought you could – then you will understand the accomplishment, feel the endorphins rush through your body, and believe the work was worth the struggle.

But, if instead, AI writes it, the student/writer never really learns the value of doing it for themselves. (let alone the hows of doing it for themselves.)

Is this the last vestige of humanity disappearing right before our eyes? The benefits and rewards of motivation, hard work, struggling and overcoming a challenge. The indescribable feeling of….. yes, I can!

I know many people are telling me not to worry, and perhaps I have fallen into troglodyte fashions of thought and creation here.

I suppose it’s only over when AI can learn to love what it does as much as writers do.

Pain Between the Lines

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As I mentioned previously, I was cleaning when a pile of my old journals fell on me. As I’ve been working on memoir, it seems that my journals were screaming, open me, open me! I thought – yes, there’s probably plenty of hidden stories just waiting for me to bring the to life again.

Yet, I haven’t opened one.

There’s a lot of pain between the lines of those journals. It’s hidden now, stored away, somewhere deep inside of me and inside of a box at the bottom of the closet – lest they jump out and attempt to injure me again.

I still think there’s a reason that they fell on me that day. It was, perhaps, a message, a sign for me to open and suck out the pain of the past, use it for my stories, for my memoirs.

I’ve written a number of short memoir pieces and they’ve been published nearly immediately. Good, short memoir, I suppose, it difficult to find for literary journals.

Memoir is important as it is healing – I’ve written about that point a lot; however, it is not only healing to the author, but to the reader. A memoir helps the reader understand they are not alone in their pain and that someone out there survived and thrived.

So – yes – I know, I have to go back into those books. I have to push myself to open them. I have to make sense of them now, as an adult, or even some years away from whatever I might read, and perhaps I can heal little pieces of my chipped soul. And others may understand that they are not alone.

Smacked in the Head by the Past

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As I was cleaning, I reached up to put something on the top shelf of the closet when a number of journals tumbled down upon me. Then, this poster floated down on top of all of them.

West End was my first published novella. This was a promotional poster from my book signings. I didn’t realize I still had one.

I have to admit, I am still sincerely proud of West End. I’d worked so hard and so long on it. Some of the lines and images stick with me.

The story takes place on the West Side of Cleveland – although I think it’s only ever referred to as the West End. I grew up in Cleveland, Collinwood, East Side, North, West Side, and some things left an impression.

While West End is a story about an unnamed narrator, the setting is nearly a character in itself. There’s so much imagery and a strong sense of place.

I remember working and reworking sentences, the images, sitting for hours and days and weeks making certain the rhythm and language was beautiful.

I framed this poster and it hangs on my wall now.

West End is actually – as I check the link – is on sale at Amazon right now!

Healing from Torment

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Recently, at a writer’s conference, I came across a number of authors writing about healing. One wrote about healing from long term illness. Another wrote about healing from life’s torments.

Previously, when attending writers’ conferences, I had not come across one person or one workshop about healing through writing.

I find it, not ironic, but apropos that so many writers focus on healing. I have written a number of entries about healing through writing.

I appreciate that more people are talking about it, creating safe spaces, and sharing prompts.

Growing up, the tortured artist effect became popular. In order to be a successful creative, one had to suffer. I wrote once that life offers – insists – upon torment. Many of us face so many challenges throughout our lifetimes, it seems insane to go looking for more. But some believed they had to suffer in order to inspire creation and earn success.

But maybe, today, we can focus on healing from life’s challenges and use that to inspire creation and earn success.

Healing through writing doesn’t necessarily mean to write to share, but journaling might help. I love this new journal: Joy: A Journal of Positive Thinking to Inspire Joy

Of course, any notebook will work. This one has prompts for inspiration.

We’ve had a challenging a few years. The news is full of negative stories. Anxiety, fear, unhappiness is at all time highs.

I’m inspired that so many authors are writing and publishing stories and prompts to help our world.

So many of us have something to offer. Start writing. Start healing. Start sharing!

The Stationary State of Distraction

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When people say they are distracted, there’s an image of flurried movement from one thing to another; however, for me, it’s a fixed state of forfeiture. As if I’ve lost something, given something up.

It’s a vexing feeling of loss and sorrow. Sometimes, I feel I’m unable to change the course of distraction.

It seems, in attempting to change the course of distraction, we become more distracted. We try different things, move to different locales, tell ourselves we need to take a vacation, or maybe try meditation, or even – yes – make a schedule!

But they’re all just distractions that stop us from doing what we need to be doing. For me, this is writing!

At this very moment, I’m listening to an exercise to help me keep focus while making tea, waiting for a phone call, and writing this blog! Multi-tasking is the inroad to distraction!

What’s worse – I suck at sales – and I’m told I need to make videos to market myself and my books. Yes, that’s exactly what I need to do. Distract myself some more figuring out how to make videos to upload to social media.

I rolled out of bed a few hours ago. I’ve been sitting here, off and on, trying to write. I have not even brushed my hair. If I were to put this blog in video format, I would want to brush my hair, brush my teeth, clean the house or at least the background, put on some make up, wear something other than my favorite t-shirt… more time, more distractions to keep me from what I need to be doing, which is writing.

I totally get some of you are doing this. Congrats, friends. I need your secrets!

I suppose many people call this monkey mind (I hate that term), but it’s accurate. Moving from one thing to another – mentally – even if I’m sitting in one place. There seems like I have so much to do.

The truth is – I’ve done this before. I’ve been in the stationary state of distraction and moved not so smoothly to the state of active focus on my writing. I need two things to make this happen. The first: I really need to shut down all the things I need to do. They can be done later without resulting injury or death. Second: focus on something I want to write.

Instead of all the have-to’s and should’s, I just need to enjoy writing again. That usually begins with loving the characters, interested in the storyline. Maybe even start something new and exciting instead of trying to rework something that doesn’t seem to be working. When focus is achieved and I feel that other work that needs more work is worth my time, then I can move back to it.

Aaaahhhh…. now I feel better.