January 17, 2005 Being Productive I spent a lot of today cleaning up the archives of the old journals and other writings that have been cluttering up the site for a long time. When I first started writing online, I had very little idea about how to organize files, and so I dumped them all into one big file, and left it at that. I also made most of my links absolute links, rather than properly referring to the directory within the site itself. So this involves creating a lot of folders, finding out where image files are, and changing the location for them on each and every page, and making sure that the archives pages and the main pages of each incarnation of my journal actually work. In doing so, I ran across a lot of writing, namely plays and the Stoplight Stories, where I put fiction on my site, mostly as an exercise in writing fiction and plays consistently. I figured there was no harm in getting a little feedback from the work I was doing, and besides, these weren't the stories or plays that I'd actually try to have published or produced someday. However, most of the plays that I've put up on the site have been produced, first by me, then individually by other theater companies, and once again in a group by an Equity house in New York. Two of those plays went on to compete in the Samuel French festival of short plays. Another play I published in this space was selected for the Boston Theater Marathon. The stories, because they've been up on my website for so long, haven't gotten the attention (from me) they deserve. Once I posted a story, I've considered it "done," and when a few people have read it and commented on it, I've felt pretty good about it, overall. But right now, I'm evaluating things, and I'm starting to realize that having all my non-journal related writings online is most likely a bad idea. Some of the Stoplight Stories, after reading through them, could be sent off to magazines after a good reworking. Keeping them online pretty much constitutes "publishing" them, which is never a good thing for an actual publisher to hear. They want first rights, and if you've already self-published (in whatever format), you're basically handing them sloppy seconds. I know what it takes to become published. Write something, put it aside for awhile, come back to it and take a fresh look at it and revise it until it meets your standards. Then send it to a trusted group of readers who will give you constructive feedback about what works and what doesn't, for them. Make decisions on what advice you'll take and what advice you'll let roll off your back. (There's nothing to gain in dwelling over criticism that hinders your ability to write. If someone has destroyed your precious ego by making comments you don't agree with, then don't send them any more stories to read. Dan't let one person's comments ruin things for you forever.) Make more revisions based on what your trusted readers have said, then grab your copy of the Writer's Market and find the kinds of publications that deal with your kind of fiction. Send off stories or query letters in the proper format, cross your fingers, and expect to get rejected. A lot. Keep at it. Write something else while you're waiting for rejection letter to come back, and also find the next publisher who may like your work, in case that rejection letter comes back. Eventually, if you're any good, you'll get yourself published. And, being published, you've just increased your chances on getting published again (it helps a lot to say that your stories have been published in X, Y, and Z...editors seem to take that into account. Go figure). Eventually, you'll have a body of work that has been published, and your name will be a known entity, at whatever level you can achieve. Is this really the way it works? I think so, given the advice that every single published writer has given out to the general public. Also, I have many friends and people I know who have gone about the business of getting themselves published in this way. John Scalzi, a writer whom I really admire, stresses this point almost every time he talks about writing. Stick with the plan, and if you write good stuff, you'll get published. Pam did it, and has a published novel. Saundra did it, and she has 40 produced screenplays on her CV. Suzanne is now doing it, and she got her first story published just a little while ago. She's currently working on her first novel, which was tremendously good in first-draft form, and can only get better with revision. Tim Pratt is the poster-boy for this approach, and is getting published and noticed all over the place. I've been doing things the wrong way, writing-wise. The journal should be a place where I can jot down my unedited thoughts and let people read them. Sometimes, it results in some nice feedback. Once, it resulted in an article that was published in several different places, including a newspaper and the newsletter of an anti-violence advocacy group. But that one time is an aberration. I'm not a known commodity in the publishing world, and I'm only semi-known in the Boston-area as a playwright. It's just too easy to throw something up online and get feedback from it and call it a day. Not to mention that it leads to publishers not wanting to look at your work because it's already been printed in another format. Putting my plays online can only lead to the possibility of theft. It's very easy to copy and paste something, make a few changes, and send it off as your own. I guess this is just a really long-winded way of saying that the stories, the plays, and any non-journal writing has been deleted from the site. I have it all on my hard drive and burned onto CDs, and hopefully, I can make something good out of it. I will always need readers of this work, however. Only this time, I'll mention a project I'm working on and ask if people want to read it. If I get an affirmative response, I'll send along a pdf file via e-mail to those folks who promise to read and make constructive criticism, but not keep it online. It's just too much of a gamble right now. Will this result in me becoming a published author, or have my plays produced more often? It's impossible to tell. But I want to take this writing thing seriously, and I haven't done that in the past, so it's basically a matter of "now or never" to get serious. And to brace myself for all those rejections. Other than screwing around with my archives, I got quite a bit done today, both errands-wise and personally. The Consulting Company is very good to its gay and lesbian employees. We have a network of GLBT employees who are available to help out, should anyone find themselves facing a problem such as coming out at work, harassment, or discrimination. Because I'm so low on the corporate totem pole, I haven't been asked to step into the legal-issues role of the network, even though I've been listed as a contact. However, there is also a social aspect to the network which has been underutilized, in my opinion, at the home office as of late. There used to be a weekly brown-bag lunch, and social events geared towards GLBT employees and their friends/loved ones, and potlucks or dinners out or what have you. Since the guy in charge of the global GLBT initiative has seemingly moved back out to New York City, that aspect has seemed to be neglected. (Or else, all the other gay folks are having a rollicking good time, and I haven't been invited. Could happen.) So today, I proposed to the head of this network that I take over the social duties for the group. I typed up a draft letter to send out to the office as a whole, inviting anyone interested to submit ideas of what would be a good activity to participate in, stressing that this was all for fun, and that nobody would be required to identify themselves as any particular orientation to join in. Coming out is a hard process, and I don't want anyone in the company who might be struggling with this issue to miss out on an opportunity to meet some nice folks because s/he isn't comfortable with a "label." The e-mail went out to the head of the GLBT network today. I'll wait and see what he says. If I'm able to do this, it will be the first time I've taken on an initiative that's not design office-specific. You never know where that can lead you. I was planning on heading to Wrentham to pick up a whole bunch of dinnerware for Mom's birthday party this Friday night, but time got away from me, because I had an invitation to dinner and a movie at Steve and Val's house. Steve and Val are primarily Laurie's friends, though I took a class in college with Val, and got to know her fairly well back then. Laurie usually visits them on Monday nights, and because I used to work on Monday nights, I never got to come along. Today being Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I had the day off work, so I was able to go. It was a tremendous amount of fun. Steve cooked pasta with meatballs and sweet sausage, in a sauce that can only come from a true Italian. We talked non-stop over dinner, and then Val said, "Laurie tells us that you're anxious to teach us a card game!" I had mentioned to Laurie that I wished we had two more friends to play Hearts with, because I enjoyed the game so much in college. Steve and Val had never played, so we taught them how to play, and they proceeded to kick my ass up and down the street, card-wise, for a good number of games. We then watched 28 Hours Later, which I thought was a zombie flick, but turns out to be more of an action movie than anything else. I didn't find it frightening in the least, though I enjoyed it. I just wouldn't call it a "horror" film. The evening ended with a hug from Val, and a standing invitation to visit anytime. I'm sure I'll take them up on the offer, sooner rather than later. In all, a pretty good day.