Sure, I had lots of excuses and distractions and I did make a pretty good effort of it. In the end, I have over 25,000 words of a story that I’ve been trying to get out of me for years. But it’s still a failed attempt. And I’m OK with that.

I’m not going to beat myself up over it because I came out of the experience with a few new and reinforced ideas and tips for anyone who is thinking about doing it again next year (including myself).

1. Writing is goddamn hard.
   Remember that. Balancing storytelling, craft, concentration, and (in the case of Nanowrimo) a focus on writing as many words as possible in a sitting — that’s difficult work. And for the most part, when I sat down to do the balancing act for two or three-hour spurts, it worked out OK. I just needed to do more sit-down sessions.
2. Writing is rewarding.
   When I did it, it felt great. When I wasn’t doing it, I was thinking about it. If it hadn’t been for a few weeks of career woes in November (one of those aforementioned excuses/distractions), this positive feedback loop would have kept me at it. So, feel good about it when you’re doing it, no matter how crappy the work is.
3. Know your capacity.
   One of the things I was most curious about when I started the project this year was exactly how many words can I write in an hour. The last time I did Nanowrimo — back in 2002 — I used a spreadsheet to keep track of my progress and in general it took a couple hours a day to do my daily goal of 2,000 words. Being that was 8 years ago, I wondered what, if anything, had changed in that aspect. Generally, I was able to write around 1,500 words in an hour. What does that tell me? Well, when I do sit back down again and tackle the rest of this work, I should have a pretty good idea of how much of a time commitment I’m looking at it.[1]
4. Feel your story.
   I say “feel” because I have a tendency to over-think my stories. It’s easy to get into “this has to happen” or my story must have such-and-such element to it. But that can end up putting the story in too tight of a box. And it can also make you inflexible and stifle your imagination. Things I was very clear about before the writing began ended up being put to the test as I started getting deeper into the story. I actually brought a dead character back to life in the middle of the story.
5. When the “real world” calls, answer.
   Yes, I’m disappointed that I didn’t complete the project. But I’d have been even more disappointed if I hadn’t dealt with the conflicts that arose. Maybe the most important thing I learned is that I don’t have to make my self-worth and esteem dependent on the outcome of a writing project.

Now that I look over this small list, I’m not sure how useful it will be as a set of tips for Nanowrimo, but it certainly helped me look at the bright side of failing. If I can’t learn something from my failures, well, I may as well just give up.

[1] I have discovered this is a useful bit of information for me. It’s often the unknown that keeps from fully committing to a project. If I tell myself, in order to finish this novel, it’s going to be X amount of hours over Y days/weeks/months, that’s the kind of data that helps my analytical side shake hands with my creative side. I need both sides to win.

Calling all designers, developers, information architects, project managers, writers, editors, marketers, and everyone else who makes websites. It is time once again to pool our information so as to begin sketching a true picture of the way our profession is practiced worldwide.

I’ve been working on the web since 1997, and I’m still surprised at how little organized the array of people in the industry actually are. Sure, there are conferences galore, but I mean really organize. I used to joke with a few colleagues at Yahoo! back in the day about starting a union for web editors. It was tongue-in-cheek back then, but it today it could be a great way to get rid of these freelance jobs that pay $10 for a blog post that I see on craigslist all too frequently.

If you work on the web, think about taking A List Apart’s survey.

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars

“The proper manner of calligraphy is nothing other than not being careless, but in this way one’s writing will simply be sluggish and stiff. One should go beyond this and depart from the norm. This principle applies to all things.” — “Hagakure: The Book of the Samurai,” pg. 42

View all my reviews.

Toward the end of 2007, daily life was completely taking over all sides of my brain and I wasn’t thinking much about After the MFA. Thankfully, Armand stepped in to open his heart about his own misgivings of the writing life.

Now, a couple of months from my last post, it’s time for me to open up and figure out how to get back to business. Is there a business to get back to? While I’ve been toiling away at personal and professional pursuits, I’ve noticed that the academic aspects of the post-MFA life are slowly dissipating from my consciousness. Is it relevant to call this collection of words on the web “After the MFA” anymore?

I don’t want to misrepresent what I’m trying to do here, but I don’t necessarily want to change the focus or turn it into a vanity website that no one cares about except friends and family. When I started this site, I was actively trying to sort out my life after my MFA. At the time my thoughts were very much like this:

“I want to teach. Why can’t I teach? I need to get published. I want to get published. How do I get published? Are my former classmates getting book deals? Why can’t I revise this stupid story?” And so on.

Now, I feel like I’m more consumed with earning a living at what I’m doing, finding small and consistent moments to write, and continuing to learn about different genres, styles, and modes of communication. I won’t go so far as saying that the short story or literary fiction is dead. Plenty of other people are generating good click-throughs making bold (and ultimately irrelevant, as something always comes along to prove such pontifications wrong) statements like that. But I will go so far as to say that the general format of short-story writing that I learned in my MFA program has proven to be unsatisfying for me in recent times. This article in Wired, claims science fiction is the “last bastion” of writing that really makes you think, and it spoke for a lot of what’s been going through my critical mind lately–not that I think science fiction is the answer, necessarily.

For now, I think getting back to business will be keeping the discussion flowing about the so-called writing life–learning from people who read and comment here. I have some interviews I should do with some post-MFAers who are doing unique things (if you think that describes you, please get in touch). And as my interest and eligibility to teach writing starts to wane, I imagine I’ll be talking about that less frequently. But there’s still plenty learn and earn.

Favorite thing about 2007: starting and finishing a one-hour television pilot script.
Least favorite thing about 2007: getting bed bugs (goddamn you, New York City)

One of the reasons I’ve been light on the posts to the site is the old grind. Working for the man has been getting me down, down, down, you might say. That’s why I have to put in a plug for a new book from a very good friend of mine.

In fact, I just got back from celebrating the publication of Jeff’s book “Working for the Man.” I’m happy to see it in print, and I was happy to see a huge crowd come out revel in its desperately needed solutions for the plight of millions: working inside cubicle land.

One of Jeff’s most popular and brilliantly subversive ideas is “How to Write a Novel While You’re on the Clock“—a near and dear subject indeed.

Anyway, to end this shameless plug, I invite you to check out the book. Support a fellow writer and hand out a few copies at your office holiday party.

This would be for CV experience only (I can’t offer pay). I teach college comp in the mornings and am in the process of looking for someone who can come in and sub every once in a great while. I also teach a creative writing course (not at a college but at a community center) in the evenings and would occasionally welcome a guest speaker to break things up.

Again, not a way to make money but good working experience that you can add to your resume or CV.

If you are interested, you can shoot me an email at:
armand_i AT yahoo DOT com

Armand

Title: Curator of Poetry, George Edward Woodberry Poetry Room

BASIC REQUIREMENTS: BA and MLS or equiv.; Substantial/critical knowledge of contemporary poetry and poetics from the English-speaking world; Familiarity w/digital technology in conversion of collections/recordings; Min 3 yrs library and/or archival work exp; Basic knowledge of library systems/catalogs; standards word processing, database and spreadsheet software; OTHER QUALIFICATIONS: M.A. or other advanced degree in English or American Literature strongly pref; Digital audio workstation experience strongly pref; Strong written/oral communication skills; supervisory/project management skills; ability to work collaboratively w/wide variety of people, especially faculty/students; Exp operating analog/digital audio recording/editing/ playback equipment strongly pref; Ability to lift 40 lbs.

The Curator has primary responsibility for acquisition/preservation/access and use of collection that consists of approximately 15,000 monographs, 12,000 audio recordings, 500 video recordings, 200 periodical titles, 50 linear ft. of manuscript material, 200 broadsides, as well as ephemera, artwork and realia pertaining to contemporary poetry and poetics from entire English-speaking world, as well as poetic works in other languages translated into English; Serves as HCL’s principal liaison w/students, faculty, visiting scholars; Manages collections; in consultation w/Associate Librarian, establishes annual/long-range goals/priorities; supervises staff; manages departmental budget; supervises projects relating to collection; Develops collection through purchases/gifts; Promotes/provides access to collection through digitization; website enhancement; and public programs; Provides knowledgeable reference service to students/faculty/visiting researchers; handles requests for permission to copy/use materials; Recommends conservation/preservation measures/ priorities; Participates in developing HCL’s special collections of contemporary poetry.

The salary grade is “57″ which means the lowest it could pay would be $53,000.00 a year.

And there you have it. Perhaps a spanking new job for one of you. Keep your eye out for other academic and/or writing-relating jobs for you in your life after the MFA.

Despite the fact the article opens with a mention of Thomas Friedman — the New York Times’s most successful bullshitter — I found some interesting things pertinent to us creative workers, including:

• Since 1970, the U.S. has 30 percent more people earning a living as writers and 50 percent more earning a living by composing or performing music.

• 240 U.S. universities have established creative writing MFA programs (up from 20 two decades ago).

• More Americans today work in arts, entertainment, and design than work as lawyers, accountants and auditors. In fact, there are more than 38 million Americans identified in this “creative class.???

Does that mean graduates of Iowa, Columbia, or UCI will walk out with six-figure deals and golden keys to the over-valued washroom? Doubtful. But maybe the pendulum is swinging toward placing more value on creative skills vs. number crunching.

Read more here: The Right Brain: A neurological solution to the flattening world

Maybe that’s not a sign of a pro, as I’ve seen it described in books like “The War of Art” by Steven Pressfield. When you’re a pro, maybe you don’t worry about whether you can do it or not. You just do it because you have to.

And I’ll admit, I’m the type of writer that feels like every project is my final proving ground. If this fails, I say, I’m done. Until the next idea comes along, that is. The ideas keep coming for me, and I can see the patterns that lead to completion, so I don’t know if I’m a pro or not. I just know I always fear the outcome, but keep pressing on in one way or another.

In 2006, I worked on a novel. It didn’t come to life. I could see the beginning (multiple versions of it, in fact), and I could see the end. Unfortunately, the all-important road in the middle was a lonely desert highway in my mind. So I deserted the project. Despondency ensued. A few days later, still lamenting the untimely death of my creative dreams, I found an outline for a another novel, something I had been beating around in my head for around 10 years.

All of a sudden I’m excited and energized, and so on…

By contrast, projects don’t usually die on my professional watch. At least, not because I gave up. It’s typically something else that derails momentum at work. A company reorg, a new priority, the sheeps of Wall Street baying at our doors.

While I can be ploddingly consistent at work I’m also vulnerable to the throes of impatience and emotion in my creative work. So, is there a solution in sight? I hope there is. It’s all about breaking things down. Make the insurmountable mountable. I have to remind myself that I’m on a creative project for a reason and commit. The road to becoming a pro entails commitment. I think I’ll put that up on my wall.

In the meantime, I’d like to know if others live this double life? How do you deal with it?

Me, I’m going to reread “The War of Art” (I read it over the New Year and came out with some good nuggets), and put up some graffiti over my desk.

Slightly related link: Left-Right Left-Right of Writing @ West Pier Words