BREAKING A VOW CAN BE A GOOD THING - September 1, 2023

In my last blog entry, I ended by promising to reveal how I broke my vow never to write another short story. I stuck to it for the next thirty years, a shocking amount of time to keep a vow without asking if it still serves you well.

During that time, I wrote at least a half dozen full length mystery novels, one of which was co-authored with a friend, and had two agents fail to sell any of them. In retrospect, most of them were little better than first drafts. Alas, by the time I finished writing them, I was tired of looking at them and lacked the motivation to make them better. What I had yet to learn was that rewriting is probably the most important part of the writing process. But I had a built-in excuse; working as a full-time trial lawyer didn’t leave a lot of energy to create a fictional world and solve a crime in it. At least, it didn’t for me.

Cut to 2019. I finally retired and decided I had no excuse left for not giving writing one more try. I began to work on a novel set in Florida in the 1950s. A northern ex-cop and her K9 become involved in solving the murder of a young Black girl. The project came to an abrupt stop when I discovered someone had recently published a book (soon to be followed by a movie) that was much too similar to the one I was writing. I was out of ideas.

When the pandemic arrived, my already short attention span shrank even further. The urge to write remained, though. While browsing the internet one day, I came across a Call for Submissions for short mystery stories based on the songs of the ‘60s. I had firsthand experience with the era and still remembered the lyrics to much of the music. It felt as if fate was pushing me toward the dreaded short fiction. Peace, Love, and Crime became the home of my story, “Nights in White Satin,” the first of 14 stories to be accepted for publication since then. I had found my niche in a genre I loved. In spite of the laws of the MFA program, I am happy to report that the best thing that could’ve happened to me was my discovery that “genre” isn’t a four-letter word!

I hope to see you again in October.

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT! - August 16, 2023

My story, "From the Ashes," will be available on November 21, 2023. Links to purchase the e-book will appear on the "Short Stories" page. This is my first ghost story, and I'm looking forward to seeing it in print, along with 35 other old and new stories that will make you want to be sure the lights are on while you read!

THE MFA BAD OLD DAYS - August 1, 2023

I wrote full-length mystery novels intermittently throughout my adult life. All of them ended up as first drafts in a filing cabinet. I didn’t analyze why I wrote; I just needed to. Since the process mattered more to me than the product, none of them received the essential next step: intense revising and editing.

In the 1980s, I decided to use my vacation time from my job as a trial attorney to apply for a non-residential MFA in Writing program. It involved two weeks on campus twice a year for two years and included frequent correspondence and input from an assigned author the rest of the time. It seemed the perfect way to get help polishing a first draft.

I submitted several chapters of a novel and expressed my intention to use the program to learn the craft of writing a successful mystery. I never considered short stories. I had enough trouble thinking of an idea for a novel once a year. I was certain I was incapable of coming up with new ideas for multiple short stories.

At the first two-week residency, we met with our assigned authors. I won’t name mine, but each time we spoke, he made it clear he wasn’t interested in genre writing. He insisted I needed to write literary fiction, short literary fiction, before tackling something as ambitious as a novel. I found myself having made an expensive commitment to a program that was unwilling to accept my goals. After my teacher persuaded me that the skills I would learn under his direction were easily transferable to my unfathomable attraction to mystery writing, I agreed to write short stories. I don’t know what adjective best described the stories I painfully produced, but I’m sure “literary” wasn’t it. What they also lacked were the crimes and solutions I longed to include.

It’s my understanding that many MFA programs are now receptive to genre writing, a welcome change from the snobbery of the bad old days.

After two years, I had a manuscript of short stories that earned me my degree, a better knowledge of the craft of writing, and some new friends. I also vowed never to try to write another short story.

I hope to see you again next month when you’ll learn how that vow was broken.