Archive for June, 2009

The rain continues and my yard is turning Cambodian by way of New England. Our Dutch farm wall is surrounded by lush green hyper-growth, algae creeps along the side of our house, and insects the size of staplers cling to our window screens. Let the whiners and moaners complain about weather. I like the rain. All of it.

My short story “Simulacrum” is a finalist for DIAGRAM magazine’s Innovative Fiction Contest, which means you can find my short published in their summer fiction issue. I’ll do the usual website thing…wait a month or so before posting it here. Or you can check out their site.

Remember that script I mentioned a few weeks ago? I put finger to keyboard this weekend. My last experience with an indie producer left me a bit skeptical (Dimension Films had nothing to do with said skepticism) but this time around feels different. Because I’m getting paid upfront. Amazing what an advance does for one’s idealism.

Bio: Updated. New semi-confidential writing project: Screenplay for a major studio head, based on a 1980’s bestselling novel. I said I’d never dip my toes into the shark tank again–at least, without thinking long and hard–so I’ve thought long and hard and this time I’m bringing a cage, a spear gun, and a bucket of fresh chum. We’re hoping to get the screenplay finished by late August, just in time for school. At which point I won’t need to be so openly evasive and I can tell you what the screenplay is about. School? What?: This fall I’ll be at Boston University’s esteemed writing program. I remain and will always remain an ardent fan of autodidactism, but it does get old after a while, and a bit lonely, and there’s the whole ignorance paradox…not knowing what you don’t know makes it impossible to fully grasp the extent of one’s ignorance. Plus I’ll be teaching creative writing, and posting the lesson plans here, and who knows where that will lead. For those of you who missed the latest issue of The Bellingham Review (you can still purchase a copy and read some fantastic short fiction, and I’m not even talking about my own story) my Tobias Wolff Award finalist short The Love Life of Tigers will be making its web debut at the end of this month. Stay tuned.

Hi Micah:

As a published author do you have to deal with rejection and if so how do you do it without tearing out your hair?

Three initial points:

1. Being published does not make me rejection-proof.

2. Being published is evidence of frequent rejection.

3. I’m 35 and I still have all my hair, so why mess with a fortunate thing?

A dozen or so agents passed on my first novel. My second novel took me one year to write and three years to sell. So I’ve come to treat rejection as a non-issue. Really? Yes. Really. You see, we’re not dealing with any absolutes in this business. If we were—and of course we all still quest for those absolutes, from writers to editors to publicists to readers—then every book bought by a publishing house and shipped to your local bookstore would sell by the truckload. We would have the answer , and know which books are worthy and which are not. Awards would be foregone conclusions. The NYT bestseller list would be redundant.

Of course we can tilt the odds in our favor; write about a dog, put a skinny girl wearing red pumps and carrying a shopping bag on the cover, mention something in the flap copy about a brilliant serial killer and the young Fed on his trail. But we’re all still guessing, and wishing, and (hopefully) writing what we love. And when it comes time to get your work out there someone (or several someones) will say “Not for me.” Your role is to grin and bear it. Move on. Keep writing. Keep reading. And keep submitting. “Submitting” in the sense of getting your work out there, not submitting in the sense of lying-in-the-bathtub-curled-in-the-fetal-position. Though if that’s your chosen method of catharsis, who am I to judge?

I almost enjoy rejection because it lets me know I’m not playing it safe. It would have been easier to write another book in the style of my first, the literary coming-of-ager set against an academic backdrop. Toss in a few Gatsby references, some allusions to dead languages, and voilá: the sophomore effort is born. Would it have sold quicker than Jack the Bastard? Than Memphis is Burning? Maybe. Probably. But I didn’t want to write something just for the sake of selling it. I wanted to write something that got me excited rather than mold something in the hopes of finding the answer.

So yes, I deal with rejection. And if you decide to make a go of the writing life, rejection will be your constant companion. Get used to it. Pour it a drink, ask it for some advice, and when it comes time to get back to work, politely show it the door. Or throw it the hell out. Just know it will always return.