So I’m writing fiction again. Earlier this year, an old story that I’d been working on for a decade or so finally decided it was finished with me. And, yes, that does seem to be the way that works for me. Around the same time, I found out there was a literary magazine put together by some folks in Middlebury for folks around Middlebury. So I submitted my story and, happily, they published it.
Yes, there is a no-so-subtle reminder here about persistence, of waiting patiently for the story to tell me how it wanted to finish. And, lurking unasked-for under a healthy layer of subtext, there’s a cliche about sometimes needing to wait until you’re a better writer. Sometimes, though, you also need to become a better human.
I couldn’t finish the story–not that I knew this during that decade–because I didn’t know what the main character needed. I didn’t know what the main character needed because, well, I never realized I needed it for myself too. Funny how that works. It took a conversation with someone else to tell me what I was waiting for. Once I knew that, I knew how this story needed to go.
I like how the story came out in the end. I like that it’s finished even better. Creating royally sucks when you don’t have a finished thing. It feels like you spent your precious free time cooking a shitty meal that nobody–including you–will ever eat. Well, the meal is made and them that wants some can have at it. The Patron Saint of Bullshit can be found in Issue 19 of Zig Zag Lit Mag–copies are available at Monroe Street Books in Middlebury VT.
I am happily onto the next story.
