A Writer Considers Building a Shed

I think I need a writer's shed.

I've always been a writer who loves to write in the chaos of a coffee shop—the whir of the espresso machine and all the clinking of ceramic, at least in a cool/good coffee shop.

But I've also been enamored and in love with the writer's spaces of those who long to be alone and in their own little world—Thoreau's cabin, Roald Dahl's hut, George Bernard Shaw's hut, Emerson's shack, or, my favorite, Dylan Thomas' primitive boathouse in Wales.

My wonderful Leslie gave me a present not long ago—a watercolor original painting of the inside of Thomas' space in Laugharne.

                                        

The boathouse is deliciously ruffled, yet full of Thomas' inspirations. Photos and drawings of favorite creatives—Walt Whitman and others. These are tacked and taped to the walls. There are drawings and quotes littering the space. Books on the floor and scattered on a shelf. And windows to the stunning beauty of Wales. 

                          

I'm not considering a boathouse. And I'm not as ambitious as Shaw was. His hut was actually on a turntable so that it moved with the sun, allowing him to create primitively efficient solar power heat.

But I am ready to embark on this idea. A 10x8 space in the corner of the property—a getaway, a sacred space, a writer's haven. It's not a man cave; it's not an escape. Electricity? Maybe not. A hurricane lamp seems efficient. Heat is needed? There are propane-powered space heaters, right? Cooling? A good fan and some air flow built in through the design. Simple. Clean. Heavenly.

I've read about other writers who have built their own and it can be expensive or you can go the cheaper route, dressing up a shed from Home Depot. I'm not looking to build a separate housing unit, but it has to have some aesthetic appeal. It has to look like a place one would want to be—where one would want to find themselves on a breezy fall night, massaging words and themes.

Journalist and author Michael Pollan built a shed for himself and wrote a book about it—A Place of My Own: The Architecture of Daydreams. In the first paragraphs he writes:

"Is there anybody who hasn't at one time or another wished for such a place, hasn't turned those soft words over until they'd assumed a habitable shape? What they propose, to anyone who admits them into the space of a daydream, is a place of solitude a few steps off the beaten track of everyday life." 

I ordered the book. Let's see what happens. 

Every Writer Wants to be Something Bigger

I had a blah day. It was angsty (is that a word?) and self indulgent. I was lost in my own ineptitude and my own mediocrity. But...it's okay. These things happen to people who care about their craft. At least that's my excuse.

It started, I think, from hurdles I needed to get over with the publisher of my forthcoming memoir, October Song. Nothing that can't be fixed. But issues are issues. And I would rather not deal with them. I would rather just write. I won't go into all of it here, not necessary. But it comes from the details of modern publishing—trusting proofreaders and copy editors, and believing that your work is worthy when it sometimes is minimized into just another book on the shelf, just another author in a world full of them.

So, that got me thinking about writing and its bigger meaning. Maybe not just for me, but for anyone who writes. This can get us into trouble, you know? If we think there is a bigger meaning and we are not living up to that meaning, well, it could get "angsty."

Consider this...a quote from the writer Don DeLillo:

"The writer is the person who stands outside society, independent of affiliation and independent of influence. The writer is the man or woman who automatically takes a stance against his or her government. There are so many temptations for American writers to become part of the system and part of the structure that now, more than ever, we have to resist. American writers ought to stand and live in the margins, and be more dangerous. Writers in repressive societies are considered dangerous. That's why so many of them are in jail." --Don DeLillo, from the 1988 interview with Ann Arensberg.

Wow. If every writers tired to live up to this statement, we might just all off ourselves. Don't misunderstand, I love this quote and I love what it stands for. But, seriously, it's heady. And what happens when we aren't so "dangerous?" Are we failures? Should be just give it up? Consider ourselves hopelessly mediocre and move on?

Every writer goes through times of uncertainty, self-doubt, believing that what they are doing is unworthy and pointless. It comes with the territory. But I wonder—aren't most of what we are doing, writing, ultimately forgettable? I'm not being defeatist; I'm being realistic. Aren't only a handful of us—the truly great—immortal? Aren't those the only ones that really matter?

Yes, this it getting a bit bleak. But here's where it turns around.

I was interviewed the other day on the radio about NIGHT RADIO, my novel. The interviewer had pulled quotes from the book that had "moved her." Really? I had written words that moved someone? And when she read them over the air, I questioned, aloud—did I write that? Not that I was impressed in some way, I was simply astonished that I had put words down that were worth repeating, worth sharing, worth interpreting and considering in some spiritual way, some deeper way.

I'll carry that with me now through this "angsty" phase. I suggest, as you write and create and find yourself in that "angsty" way when you want to be something bigger and bolder, that you find a piece of your art that you are proud of, or better still, something someone else has been moved by and let it wash over you.

The Truth About Writer's Block: There is No Such Thing

I'm calling you out.

You do not have writer's block. There is no such thing. It is not contagious, and no one, not you, not anybody will ever catch this non-existent ailment. It's an excuse.

Who says so? Me. And many others.

From Lois Lowry, the author of The Giver:

"Did you ever go to have your braces adjusted and hear your orthodontist say. 'Oh, I'm sorry, I can't dot it. I have dentist's block today.' Of course not."

And from Linda Sue Park, author of A Long Walk to Water:

"I think it could be called I-do-not-feel-like-writing block."

Face it. Writer's block is bullshit.

Novelist Gabriel Garcia Marquez, author of Love in the Time of Cholera, once said the only cure for the writer facing a blank page is death.

So, if you don't want to die...you better write!

I agree that we all have times when writing feels like digging a ditch or we are simply ill-prepared for the task or Game of Thrones is on or the NFL season is getting started or our car needs an oil change. Pick a reason not to write. There are a million. But if you are a writer, you must write. Something. Anything.

Make a goal. "I will write one good paragraph today." Stay away from word count. You'll focus too much on the numbers. Then whatever you write, before you close the laptop, leave a little behind, a bit in the tank. Ernest Hemingway said he never stopped writing until he had a pretty good idea where he was going next, so when he returned he was ready.

And lastly, drop the phrase from your list of excuses. Drop it from your vocabulary. If it isn't there, then you can't see it, hear it, feel it, or experience it.

Think of your writing as working out. It may not be pleasant getting started on that elliptical, but once you get going, you'll feel great. And when you're done for the day, you are on top of the world.

So, sit down, open your laptop, your journal, your note pad and write, write, write.

A Writer in Cuba

There's only one English language bookstore in Havana. Cuba Libro is said to be a literary oasis...with Cuban coffee. It's run by the travel and health journalist, Connor Gory. I've never met her, but I want to and I hope to when I visit Cuba in June of 2017.

I have longed to travel to Cuba for more than a decade, probably two. Its mystery to Americans, its Hemingway history, its people, its reputation for social justice, its love of Che Guevara and the idealism of revolution, all of this is deep in me. Where it all comes from is not necessarily clear to me...and maybe that is why I so believe I need to go.

I do not pretend to be a Cuba scholar. I do not pretend to know its true nature or its spirit. But I hope to and maybe Cuba Libro can help. I've reached out about a possible visit when I'm in Havana, maybe the chance to hold a reading in this restful, organic, spiritual place. Wouldn't that be a special thing—reading from one of my books in a Havana bookstore? Wouldn't it be lovely to donate some of my books, and others, to Libro? I have reached out to Cuba Libro, but have not yet heard from the staff or connected with its owner and driving force, Connor, but I certainly hope I do. There's time.

When booking the travel,  I was asked by the agent helping me, a Cuban named Jane, if the Hemingway leg of the trip—to his home, Finca Vigia outside Havana—was "necessary." She was trying to help me keep the cost manageable. "Jane," I said, "I am the writer-in-residence at the Hemingway Birthplace Home in Oak Park, Illinois. I have to go to the Finca. I must go. That stays." I think it was after this exchange that Jane really understood some of my motivations about my travels. "Plus," I continued, "my two sons are coming with me, and they would think their father had gone daft not venturing out to Cojimar, the tiny village near the Finca, where The Old Man and the Sea was set." Jane laughed. It wasn't a joke.

I plan to learn more Spanish—more than pollo and hola—since Cuban Spanish is different than Mexican or Madrid Spanish. It has Afro-Caribbean roots. I want to understand the draw of the Malecon and learn to savor the music and its importance in the culture, and to welcome the Cuban way—talking loud and often, embracing people physically and emotionally, and celebrating the good they do.  And I want to smoke a cigar in the middle of the day in Old Havana.

But I also want to write—when I'm there and when I return. I want to put thoughtful observations on paper—the things I see and the things I feel. I want the place to envelope me, to be a part of it in real time and to capture it in words, and not simply walk through it as if I'm watching animals in a zoo.

One night while we are there, we plan to stay with a family in Trinidad, Cuba's central tobacco town with its 17th century streets under the striking Iglesia y Convento de San Francisco and its iconic bell tower. I want to drink rum with the locals. And I want to converse, to talk, to listen, to spend time and forget the clock. And then maybe have another cigar.

It's months away but I am already in Cuba in many ways, reading Pico Iyer's Cuba and the Night and a wonderful book of essays entitled Cuba in Mind, and dreaming. There has been a great deal of dreaming. 

What I Learned Editing a Literary Journal

As the Writer-in-Residence at the Hemingway Birthplace Home in Oak Park, Illinois, I was privileged to edit the inaugural Hemingway Shorts publication. It was a bigger, more demanding job than one might imagine. But I loved it and learned a lot, and for any writer who would consider submitting their work to any publication, there are a few things for all of us to consider.

More than 450 international submissions entered the online portal. We would choose one winner, and 10 finalists—all would be published in the new literary magazine, what we hoped would be an annual endeavor. Honestly, most of the work was not very good—mediocre or poor at best. I had been told by colleagues who have done this work for other publications that most would be forgettable. They were right.

But there would be good things to come. 

Former Writer-in-Residence, Annette Gendler helped in the process. She was invaluable, as we felt obligated to read every single one of these entries. But honestly, some we never finished reading. Others we read over and over again. Some knocked us off our chairs, and those ended up in a pile of semi-finalists, some thirty of them. Those thirty were well-constructed, compelling, heartfelt, emotional, intriguing. I was admittedly concerned at the start about the quality of some of the work, as we wanted this publication to be the best of the best, certainly. But then the heavens opened up and wonderful work fell to our hands.

There are many good writers out there, but only a few cut through to the soul.

As an editor I learned to be patient. To wait for the good stuff. I also learned to cull as you go. Do not wait for the deadline to start working through the submissions. That would have been a nightmare. And I learned to trust that the cream would rise to the top. It did.

As a writer...some advise. Stick to the word count in the submission guidelines. Stories that did not, were not considered. If the submission guidelines are written in English, assume that the stories must be. And do not send a quickly written first draft, figuring the "editors" will fix your grammatical and syntax errors. The story may be wonderful, but that is lost in sloppy work. You would be surprised how much sloppy work is submitted. This is not the editors being grammar Nazis; it's about taking pride in your work.

I am proud of Hemingway Shorts. I am honored to have been part of the process. And I am looking forward to doing it again and again.

NIGHT RADIO Goes Viral

The early going on my new novel, NIGHT RADIO, has been good. It was released June 1, 2016 and since then has received wonderful customer reviews and a solid review from Windy City Reviews.
I've had interviews on KDKA in Pittsburgh and shout outs on WXRT in Chicago. Soon, I'll be starting a blog tour with WOW, guest blogging about an array of subjects and telling a few secrets about my writing life and the making of NIGHT RADIO. I also have a number of new reviews coming soon, including new reader reviews, which many times are the most rewarding.

I say all this to make a point.

We live in a RIGHT NOW world. Tweets, Instagram, Snapchat and more. We want and even demand results immediately. That is just not the case in publishing. The work is incremental. It is slow and sometimes slogging. It's a marathon, not a sprint, and finishing first is not the goal. The goal is to just finish, sometime. In fact, the true goal may be to keep going.

This weekend, 7/16,  I'll be making a presentation at the Chicago Writers Association Summer Social about my fortune roles as the writer-in-residence at the Jack Kerouac Project and the Hemingway Foundation of Oak Park. And on 7/23, I'll be at the Hemingway celebration to announce the inaugural Hemingway Shorts publication—the work of eleven writers from all over the world chosen from some 450 submissions. It's in conjunction with the Hemingway Society's festival in Oak Park, Illinois this summer. I was honored to edit this first edition of this new publication. In addition, this October, I'll be one of the authors honored at the Carl Sandburg Literary Awards dinner at the UIC Pavilion in Chicago. Humbled to be a part of this.

So, again. It's the step-by-step journey that gets you there. I hope you'll come along with me.

Papa Deserves Better, But...

I'm not a movie reviewer, but I feel compelled to say something about the new film Papa Hemingway in Cuba. It's directed by Bob Yari who did Crash and The Illusionist. Two pretty good movies.

Papa is not. As much as I want it to be.

But, this is not going to be a bashing. That's too easy. There's plenty that is overwrought about this movie. Like several  reviewers have written, the movie makers should have taken Hemingway's advice and done less to show more. Some of the narration is helplessly obvious, the dialogue heavy handed and cliched. Still, it's pretty impressive that it was filmed in Cuba and at Hemingway's home outside Havana. But it's not enough to save the movie.

Still, what the movie does very well is this: It reminds writers that writing is a blessing, a curse, and to do it well, it has to be the essence of your being. NOT writing is NOT an option. For Hemingway, not being able to write eventually killed him. Certainly, I don't wish that on any writer. But his commitment and his devotion to the art is not only legendary, it's inspiring. 

We can thank this movie for reminding us of this.

And with that, we remember what Hemingway said about his craft.

In one form of another, this is what Ernest Hemingway said or wrote about writing.

WRITE EVERYDAY.

I always try to write on the principle of the iceberg. There is seven-eighths of it underwater for every part that shows.― Ernest Hemingway

KEEP A SCHEDULE.

You can write any time people will leave you alone and not interrupt you. Or rather you can if you will be ruthless enough about it. But the best writing is certainly when you are in love.― Ernest Hemingway

HAVE A LIFE OUTSIDE OF WRITING.

Live the full life of the mind, exhilarated by new ideas, intoxicated by the Romance of the unusual.― Ernest Hemingway

In order to write about life first you must live it.― Ernest Hemingway

WRITE IN A PLACE YOU FEEL INSPIRED.

Writing and travel broaden your ass if not your mind and I like to write standing up. – Ernest Hemingway

TAKE THE TIME TO MAKE YOUR WRITING BEAUTIFUL.

All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.― Ernest Hemingway 

 REWARD YOURSELF.

Once writing has become your major vice and greatest pleasure only death can stop it. ― Ernest Hemingway