Legacy Writing 365:176

Tim and I are finishing our final edits on short stories submitted for our next anthology, FOOLISH HEARTS: NEW GAY FICTION. This second collection, slated for a 2013 release, will be, like our first anthology, published by Cleis Press. We’ve gotten some good stories from writers we’ve worked with before, from veteran writers, and from new voices. There’s nothing like the leap of faith a writer takes when submitting a story to an editor, and I’m always aware of that mix of feelings–hope, dread, certainty that the story is a piece of crap and how COULD I have sent it, what was I thinking?!?–because, well, I’m a writer myself. As I travel the Internet reading thoughts and essays from aspiring writers and especially reading criticism of published writers, it always surprises me that people don’t realize how humble most writers are. Published writers often feel like they’ve been lucky because not only did they get to do what they loved, but somebody wanted to publish and read it. I say to them, you WORKED for it. You took an idea and you turned it into words and you polished and submitted it, so it’s okay to stop for a minute and say, Hey! I did this!

Sometimes I get weary of reading about writing, but I always have to remind myself that talking about what you’re working on, about the struggles, about the hopes and fears, isn’t born of arrogance. It’s more like whistling in the dark, showing a bravado that has an underlying fear: This time, they’ll realize I’m a hack. This time, they’ll wonder how I was ever published before. This time…AIEEEE, it’s too hard….

It’s work, like all other work. It only gets done if you sit down and do it. There’s only so much talking about it and dancing around it and making excuses about it a writer can do before he just has to freaking do it. I know, because it’s been a while since I’ve been the person who does it. Aren’t y’all glad I don’t write here every day about how I’m not writing? And can you see what I just said? I write on this blog every day, some days more than others. This is the writing I can do right now. I’m not beating myself up about novels or short stories that aren’t being written. I do what I can do. I try to do it well, to proof and self-edit, to find more concise and effective ways to communicate. Some days it’s hard to find the time and energy for it, and it always makes me laugh when people say, “I could be a successful blogger! Anybody can do that!” Then they start a blog and suddenly they get bored or there’s something else they need to do or they reach a point where they aren’t sure what to do next, or they wonder why no one’s reading or commenting, and it seems very thankless, and before you know it, it’s just another project that never went anywhere. Writing, including on a blog, takes self-direction and self-discipline, and right now, my blog is my means of imposing that on myself.

My point in straying to the topic of writing is to show why I take on the job of editing with such respect for writers. I want writers to succeed. I know the hope and work and love that go into writing, and that’s why, even though I know not all writing is good, even published writing, I’ve never been a reviewer or critic. I’ll leave that to others.

Tim and I have a variety of ways we edit. Sometimes we edit separate copies then sit side by side and compare notes. Sometimes one of us will work on a printout of a story then pass it to the other. After all these years, I shouldn’t be surprised how similar our edits are. But because we haven’t written together since…er, When You Don’t See Me was going through its creation, it’s refreshing to know that the same things catch our eye, for good or ill. There’s really nothing like working with a partner who’s so thoroughly compatible as a reader and editor. Chances are good that the things that tug on my heartstrings, or the things that make me go, “Ew. No,” or the things that make me giggle, have the same impact on him. We also have some dissimilar strengths, so together, I think we’ve got it covered.

Thanks, Tim, for reminding me how fun the process of working with you can be.