Friday, October 9, 2015

Being the Scene's Hero

With CapClave imminent I  am preparing for the panels I will be on by sketching a few notes. I favor this literary convention because it is so kind to short story writers like me.  That's a big deal since I am seldom recognized at the big cons, not that I am besieged by groupies or anything at CapClave, but I do get to talk comfortably to my peers.

Someone recently interpreted one of my recent blogs to mean that I was becoming a novelist to the detriment of my short stories and implored me not to go that route.  I assume  he thought that there might be a magic switch that converted one's writing impulse from short- to long-form.

Nothing could be further from the truth.  Actually it has taken an act of will to continue plugging away on the two novels I have almost finished ( where have you heard that before?) while demands for short stories land on my desk.  Rather than plunge into those semi-obligations I chose to give them an hour's thought, sketch out rough outlines, and identify where I need to do research before turning my attention back to the Plotland challenge I've been struggling with for the past year.

My take-away on the remark about my blog is that I have finally confirmed proof that I have a FAN!  Who would have guessed?  For years I've been plugging away under a cloud of anonymity, thinking that my editors, who occasionally buy a piece or two, were the only ones who judged my work, and managed to ignore the existence of the readership they served.

Not for me the GoH gigs, the book signings, the free drinks provided by editors and agents, or the coterie of young fans eager to have a morsel of wisdom from my lips.  I am ignored at conventions, have to introduce myself to the program committee, and usually sit alone in the bar to occasionally chat with some better known writer.

But the recent encounter made me realize that maybe most authors feel this way. Sitting alone in a dark room with nothing but a blank screen before you makes you feel that way.  Perhaps I only see the adulation of the moment for others and not the long stretches of disinterest between.  Perhaps we are doomed to "fret and strut our hour upon the stage and then be seen no more"  Such is fate.

But it's nice to know that someone actually likes my stories.


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