Memoirous

Wild Geese You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting - over and over announcing your place in the family of things.  – Mary Oliver My writer friend has told me I have a week to wallow in self-pity. My daughter has told me NOT to wallow, but instead get up and get going. A critique partner has given me an assignment: massive revisions of the manuscript PLUS a re-write of a short story. My write...

I recently had new work published at a small online journal called Rejected Manuscripts. I'd only just started circulating Examples of Synchronicity, and while at Calvin College and the Festival of Faith & Writing I received a rejection. This in and of itself is no big deal. In fact I barely ever emotionally register a rejection. Mainly because I'm ALWAYS sending things out. I know the odds are I'll eventually get an acceptance. But it was WHY it was rejected that baffled me. The editor said dismissively--this seems like a bunch of random coincidences. And, I thought--well? yes--that was the point. It's sort of the meaning of synchronicity and the basis of the piece, a series of small flashes that detailed examples of synchronicity. I sort of thought that was evident, self-explanatory. I sat in on a session with the famous short story writer Joy Williams, who has her own book out containing what I might describe as flash essays/fiction/synchronicity/...

A little story with elements of fantasy entitled Missed Connections was just accepted by Eyedrum Periodically I'll let you know when it appears. So far 4 acceptances in 2018. If you are curious about where to submit your work go to Places to Submit. also check out rejection letters to famous authors, The Atlantic

The most recent issue of Vignette Review is featuring a flash I wrote a few years ago. I actually conceptualized the flash as a series of vignettes. I revised it and cut it down; the ending wasn’t coming together. I sent it around to a few journals etc and it received a round of rejections. Finally it was on the verge of acceptance if I only made a slight edit. Now let me say I am not at all adverse to suggestions. Maybe not immediately, but eventually after a minute of clear thinking I’ll see what the editor is getting at—but this change didn’t work for me. Specifically, he/she didn’t think heat emitted by a hand-held soldering iron would set off a fire-suppression system. My research told me this person was wrong. We couldn’t agree on the change so I had to let it go. Back to sending out the piece. But the suggestion got me thinking— see , a good thing. I took another look at my ending, and in a slight of hand, added a sentence that could be read literally and figur...

Over a year ago I wrote a short short—about 1,200 words—and began to submit it—about 30 times. I began to feel stupid. I think that comes with the rejection territory. You question your existence. Why am I even doing this? Why did I even write that sentence? You tell yourself—just quit already! For those who don’t get it: writing is hard work. I know exactly what I need to write, how I want it to turn out—it’s getting there that’s the problem. I keep crashing and having to go back to the beginning. Now times this feeling by about 100. I have about 50 stray pieces in process—either submitting, revising, or just getting it down on paper, all concurrent, all at once. It’s like brain streaming or having too many tabs open in your head. Then! You get a bone thrown at you. Your work finds resonance somewhere. “The Machine Has No Clothes” that short short finally found a home with Carbon Culture —a journal at the intersection of literature, art, and technology. When I saw...