Because of the changes in how we spend our time reading stories, not to mention how we read them in the first place, writers are working desperately to keep a captive audience — not an easy thing to do with so much writing now available so freely and immediately.

Do I focus on search-engine optimization (SEO)? What about word count? What does my target audience (who is that anyway anymore?) really want?  What is going to hold my reader more than 90 seconds, when their finger is perched precariously on the tip of the mouse, ready to click me into oblivion as the search continues for something more entertaining?

With the exception of SEO and the ease of maneuvering from one piece of writing to the next, all with a click of the mouse, the questions I pose for writers above are no different than what writers have been asking themselves for decades. We still want to write for an audience that understands what we are saying, even if they don’t necessarily agree with it.

But how to do that?

It is precisely due to the ease of leaving your work that makes writers more desperate to hold on to your attention. Before blogs and search engines and RSS feeds, we just had to tease them enough to buy the darn thing. Once they got it in their hands, they gave us a fair chance — maybe a few chapters or up to 100 pages — before they made a decision to keep on reading or line the birdcage with its ripped-out pages.

In that desperation, I think we are sacrificing sensibility, the very essence of a writer’s passion for writing the piece in the first place. We are so concerned about getting to the point very quickly that we do not allow our purpose, our intent, to build in the story.

This is why, I think, we are seeing “flash fiction” and similar nonfiction subgenres continuing to emerge as a legitimate form of writing. How quickly can you get to your point and share that sensibility before you reach your last-allowed 750th word? At times, I feel like I’m reading stories that are more suited to fit in the microwave-ready Lean Cuisine dish.

Sure, these stories/meals are good on-the-go, but is it really possible to establish and sustain long-lasting and filling themes with such a diet?

As I wrap up the final edits on my book that goes to the printer next week for a December 9th release, I know that one of the best things going for me is that the story is short — a mere 51,000 words that barely pushes the 200-page mark.

But I am also making sure that, to the best of my ability, I didn’t compromise sensibility in keeping it short.

I guess it comes down to this. Go ahead and microwave my story, but please set aside the afternoon to enjoy the sliced turkey and corn niblets. I hope that what I have to share takes a little time to digest. :)

(copyright 2010, Rus VanWestervelt, Meredith Creek, Annapolis, MD)

Greetings, Constant e-Readers…

I’ve had a horrible day, and I think I’ve come to the conclusion that I just need to say goodbye for awhile.

Now, I’m not one to make decisions hastily; this has been building up for some time.  The 40-day journey I just completed is still making such a huge difference in my life, and today I was able to pull from that journey for strength and courage.

The problem was, is, and will continue to be, a very objective and rather dry matter concerning the use of those 24 hours that we go through each day. There’s just not enough of them for all I want to do.

A wonderful alum recently got me a hat that says, “Half-Full.” I love that hat for so many reasons, but it is also a curse trait of mine to see the good and the possibility in nearly all that I do.

I have spent the last few days on FB, Twitter, Gmail, IM, the phone–everywhere, really, and I can see the benefit of all of them.

But I also want to finish Cold Rock and get it out this summer. I need to see the full benefit of That and none of those other things—at least until I finish.

There will be a time for all of them. Now is just not it. And with the end of the school year just around the corner, my writing time will be scarce.

I love FB, Twitter, this blog, IM, all of it. The interactions with all of you have been (and will soon again be) wonderful.

I gotta write, though, folks. And this is the only way I know how to do it: Butt in Chair and Write. Zero distractions, no matter how wonderful they might be.

I will return when the news of Cold Rock’s completion is ready to be trumpeted to the masses (well, to the dozen of ya who have stuck with me through the years). Until then, feel free to email me or text. When Butt is out of Chair, I will get back to you.

Love to all, and thank you. I’ll see you soon on the other side of the signing table. :)

as always……………………rvw

I am back on Twitter and establishing some good correspondence with other writers, and I spent a great deal of time researching the realities of publishing.

My press, Ravenwater, is working hard to get the word out about our first release, I’m Still Trying To Figure It All Out Myself… by Larry Cohen. We are developing a digital copy of his book, which will be available for the iPad, Kindle, Nook, Sony Reader, and all other portable reading devices. We’re working hard to get his book distributed nationally through Ingram and Baker & Taylor.

The truth is, it’s just damn hard to get your book picked up and circulating beyond your circle of friends, colleagues, and close community members.

Yet, I wonder, is that bad?

The small press and self-publishing boom has afforded writers opportunities to see their stories in print when, in all likelihood, they would be thrown into the slush pile of those larger publishing houses. It’s not a reflection on the quality of writing. It’s just that national agents and publishers are looking for that one book that fits all of their needs–primarily financial ones–that they are willing to take a risk on. SO many variables to consider: history (and future) of writer, predicted appeal for the story in a year’s time (following predicted trends), multimedia spinoffs (to bring in additional income), and international appeal.

Most of us wouldn’t score too well with those variables. And, even if we did, it’s still a crap shoot about whether you will be the “chosen one” that the publisher wants to take the chance on.

This is why I believe in the small presses. We need to be realistic about our publishing successes. But it does mean that we are published, and we have shared our words with the people in our community (and perhaps a little beyond).

I’m skeptical of any other definitions of success. To me, this is about as good as it gets.

So go ahead and write that story. Chances are good there’s a small press out there that’s wanting to help you share your words. . . .

First, the deposition. Without going into too much detail, which I believe I cannot do, our school system is being sued by one of our former teachers for teaching in a hostile work environment, among other things (you can read the Washington Post article about the lawsuit here). I am listed as a witness in the lawsuit, and the deposition ran nearly two hours as I was asked many questions about lesson plans, sharing classrooms, and teachable moments. I found the whole event to be an opportunity to tell the truth in the judicial process before the trial begins later next month, and I am glad that I was able to contribute truthfully to this lawsuit, where I could get it on the record that I am proud and honored to teach at my school and in this system. I will say this, though: every word matters, and it is extremely important that the words you choose wisely in such a deposition are not misunderstood or misused later in the depo. I found that, on more than one occasion when a follow-up question was being asked (usually five to ten questions later), I needed to either clarify or correct a misunderstanding of a statement made earlier in the interview. If I had not been so careful with my words or had not listened intently to the interpretations of my original responses, I can see how easily I might have mispoke during those follow-up questions, based on assumptions that I had been understood or clear before.

The second interview was a totally opposite experience. We just released the fifth volume of our publication, Maryland Voices, last weekend, and we’re getting good press about it. One of my student editors had the opportunity to read an excerpt from her story on the air, and I was interviewed about the publication and about the Maryland Writing Project.

I wish I had the power to flip the time spent on each interview. I would have loved to have spent 10 minutes in the depo and two hours talking about writing!

Being in that radio environment, though, thrilled me. I’ve always wanted to own a small radio station. I love editing digital audio, and so I imagine I would enjoy being a producer more than an interviewer. Maybe when my book sells and I sell those million copies, right?
Anyway….If you are interested in hearing the interview with WYPR, just go to their website, WYPR.org, and go here to the Maryland Morning page. If you visit their site any time after today, they’ll archive the show for download, so just make sure you navigate to today’s date, May 30. If you read this post before 9:30, you can log on to the site and listen to the program live. Our segment airs at 9:40 a.m.

The biggest addition is the publication and contest opportunity link that opens up a calendar of calls for submissions and contests where writers might be interested in submitting their work. You can find this link under a new column in my sidebar titled, “rusvw in-depth.”

I have also added a subscription service to my blog, so you can receive email alerts every time I post a new entry. Although this service will undoubtedly increase the flow of spam to my site, I think it’s worth it to offer this convenience to readers and writers who are too busy to click on myriad blogs, only to find there are no new updates. As much as I try to write every day, I know this is simply not a promise I can keep.

If you know of any publication opportunities or contests that you would like me to add to the calendar, please let me know.

Thanks, faithful readers!

I realized that earlier today when a wonderful colleague of mine who just moved down to Florida asked for some of my work on Daybooks and journals. When i went through my files to see what would be best to send her, I found several working drafts of articles that, with just a few extra hours, could be sent out to one of the national writing mags for serious consideration. A few more anecdotes, a little more documented research, and off it will go.

So, why didn’t I do it years ago when i began the pieces?

Simple. When I don’t remain immersed in the world of writing and publishing, I become timid about that final step when it comes to the business of writing.

We all have the ideas about great pieces, don’t we? We can see them played out in our minds like movies. We have exciting characters, a suspenseful plot, an on-your-edge-of-your-seat climax. We see it all, we have it all, up there in our heads.

Many of us write something about that idea down on paper. Some of us finish a draft. Fewer of us take it through the revising and editing stages. A small remaining number actually submit it for publication.

Why is this?

The path that leads to that ultimate goal of publishing gets pretty dense, pretty dark toward the end. It’s the area we know least about because we are here so infrequently. For every 100 ideas I may have in my head at that beginning stage, maybe 5 or 6 ever get submitted. It’s like running the bases in baseball. Everybody gets on first base now and then, but fewer get to second, a small number get to third, and it’s a big deal if your foot hits home plate.

It doesn’t have to be this way, though. Sending a piece in for consideration is easier than putting those ideas down on paper. It takes less time, it’s certainly less emotional, and there’s a stark finality to it when sending off your envelope.

It’s out of your hands. Time to resume work on another piece or, if you are lucky, something brand new.

So what’s the key?

I think it’s this: When you decide that you are taking a piece to publication (this usually occurs after you’ve jotted down the rough first draft), you need to start looking for a possible home for your work. Not only does it focus your writing a little more sharply, it also gives your left brain something to do to give your right brain a little break.

Here’s what you need to do once you’ve made the decision to seek publication.

1. Consider what markets might be interested in your work. Choose at least three pubs: a local rag that is likely to publish your piece; a regional journal that might consider it; and a national publication that, if the timing is right and the planets align, may just move your manuscript on the maybe pile. Make sure that all of the pubs are reputable, though; quantity is never better than quality when it comes to accumulating your clips.
2. Get the most recent info on those markets. Find out if they take email submissions, and if they do, whether they want your work sent in as an attachment. Learn the editors’ names that you will be wooing. Understand their audience, their guidelines–basically everything you can know about those publications.
3. Get the envelope ready, even before you’ve finished the piece. Have it all filled out and sitting on your desk, ready to be stuffed and mailed.

By doing these three easy steps, you remove all the anxiety from the aura of publishing. It’s really a simple process, and all it takes is a little left-brain, right-brain collaboration to put it all together.

Good luck!