Category: Writing
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Uncon 2016: Author in Progress
We were never meant to go it alone and yet somehow the bad myth of the lone wolf artist persists. It shows up in the isolated anxiety attacks of writers preparing for their pitch slams at a massive conference, in the loneliness of presentations, in the alienation of large group lectures, and in the all-business-no-play…
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Monotone Readings VS. Oral Performance
When I moved to New York, my first real surprise was the monotone readings. Something about the MFA culture in this town has gone and whitewashed every reading series with this sort of monotone half-jaded, half-sarcastic voice. You’ll find this tone shared by nearly all poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction grads. I won’t name any…
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Why Tara and I Quit Social Media. All Of It.
Starting this month, Tara and I quit social media. All of it. Deleted about ten years of followers on Twitter accidentally — that kind of kicked it off. Then I deleted about 25k in Reddit karma. Nothing to brag about, but certainly not an insubstantial amount either. She got rid of Instagram and Facebook. I…
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Why My 4th Novel Failed
2024 author’s note — If you’re arriving here from F.C. Schultz’s wonderful first video, you need to know a few things (1) I now run a substack that, among other things, will offer a library of free advice to writers (2) I have a massive free resources page for writers (3) the book I started after…
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The Ballad of the Morning of the Writer
with deference to Stephen Pressfield Before she opened eyes, she heard Alarms — her shouting clock. She’d set it for her pre-dawn words. Her dry-mouth-taste: a sock? The children soon would rise from bunks And writing time would end But blank pages await. Tales trunked— They whispered, “Sleep again.” Children took out the pep from her…
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Cliché Vindicated: Concessions to Ms. Eberhardt
Two kinds of people argue with themselves: maniacs and metaphysicists. The maniac argues with himself the way a divorced couple argues: hashing up old arguments that lead nowhere simply because he’s in the habit of doing so. In that endless cycle, he becomes unsure of how he exactly he lost his way. The metaphysicist — the…
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My Writing Toolkit
What should you charge? The number one resource I’ve created that other writers ask to see is my personal spreadsheet that lays out what I charge for different classes and categories of writing projects. It’s comprehensive, it’s easy to read, and it gives a middle-of-the-road estimate for virtually every project you could work on as a writer,…
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Rio Sunset Park
Ghosts in the gold, ghosts in the late Grate growing wet from grey waters. Ghosts in the water gushing its spray: Men in it which men aren’t mainly, Shadows and shades, shadows in spades Twinned and twining, twisting liquid Pining from physique, from playing rain: Where are the men within? White water at Nighttime walks…
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A Defense of Pokémon Go
Three multi-millionaires. A father of four. A PhD in agricultural science. An Oscar winner. A crowd of twelve-year-olds outside a custard joint in St. Louis. A retiree. A CTO. A teen who hadn’t seen the sun in months. Professional artists — a filmmaker, a novelist, a painter, a stylist, a musician. All of these…
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The Brooklyn Film Festival at Windmill Studios
A windmill guards wonder pictures: blades hedging bad ideas. Festival goers’ fists and feet vote as teams, very to very, sparrows—they echo spite for spite, but they aren’t right: Thous aren’t here. The windmill unwinds weathered not from spins unwound or spurning found sins. Windies gone whence called: nailed and neutered, naught milling here. It…
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Greenwood
Twenty-four crypts: teeming mouths songless closed, soothing whistlers they pucker: Thayer, Galdwell, Green, Michael — Greenwood blows cyclonic, sites of graves stirring waves up, staring stairs down for prey. Dowreys in stones displayed; stolen days, stolen children — stoves aflame the names! The dates! The native whistling low till lakes blow circular. Maelstrom made small…