writing Archive

A Female Author Talks About Sexism and Self-Promotion

I am going to say “bitch” a lot. I do not like or use the word much, but I’m going to be talking a lot about reaction to female creators, and this is the only way I know how to discuss the experience of getting that word over and over again, until it is expected, until the chorus becomes a dull roar. It’s a word that shows up every day in my inbox and in the inbox of too many female creators. There were “this-bitch’ and ‘this-bitch-again” tags on Goodreads. These tags (and other things, such as one of my friends having “Why Are YA Authors Fat” posted as a “review” that topped her review list for her newest book for months) made it impossible for me to be altogether sorry when some Goodreads reviews were scrubbed. I don’t want reviews censored–but I also do not want to read reviews that are misogynistic and personal. I have had it explained to me countless times that it’s okay for malicious strangers to call me a bitch.

I understood that this response to female creators talking was born of misogyny, but recently I read this article, and felt like my eyes were opened. What people are responding to so badly is professional women trying to do something that is an element of their jobs.

One promotes oneself and one’s work in order to succeed. And yet women are discouraged from promoting. Almost like there’s…some sort of system in place to discourage women from succeeding.

Here is something true: many people act like women have no right to a space in the world.

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Happy Birthday, Kurt Vonnegut

The moment Kurt Vonnegut entered my life is seared indelibly in my memory. It stands out starkly, like my first period or my first kiss. All of those memories share a common theme: afterwards, my life was forever changed. I was thirteen, and my friend’s unusually permissive mother left me unsupervised in her well-stocked library. I don’t know why I pulled Mother Night off the shelves. The cover was black with a picture of a man in a blue outfit riding a dachshund, but I would not have detected that from the novel’s spine. Whatever guided me to the book, I curled up on the library floor and read the entire thing in one endless afternoon.

It was an electrifying experience start to finish. It was about sex and death and Nazis and spies, which sounds exciting enough, but it was not the subject matter but how the story was told that intrigued me. I had suspected for some time that adults knew The Truth About Everything and were keeping it from me, and now I had the proof in my hands. This book had stared into the face of evil and evil had stared back. Then this book blew a raspberry in evil’s face. It was unflinching, it was hysterical, it was naughty, and it was unforgettable. By the shocking ending in the Israeli jail, I was addicted. Some kids get hooked on drugs, others get hooked on casual sex, I got hooked on Vonnegut.

By high school, I was a total Vonnegut disciple. I started referring to him (as I still do) solely by his first name, as if we were intimate friends. I framed a picture of him and put it on my nightstand. I was ardently devoted to the radical truths he espoused: that most people were lazy and ignorant but deserved love anyway, that life was meaningless but sometimes wonderful, and that “God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.” In his words, I saw a vision for a more humane, saner, smarter world. That’s not to say I thought he was perfect. Towards the end of his career he became a very cranky old man, and I sometimes felt that he went too far with his contempt for people less intelligent than he. We also had vastly different viewpoints about religion. But then I thought, what do I know? I’m just a snot-nosed high schooler from Texas. He won a Purple Heart in World War II.

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Alternate NaNoWriMo Taglines

Once again inspired by Friend of The Toast Emily Gould. (Previously: Male Novelist Jokes.)

National Novel Writing Month
November 1-30 | “NaNoWriMo: The world needs your novel.

National Novel Writing Month
November 1-30 | “NaNoWriMo: They’re all gonna laugh at you.”

National Novel Writing Month
November 1-30 | “NaNoWriMo: Cool story, bro.”

National Novel Writing Month
November 1-30 | “NaNoWriMo: All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. All work and no p

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I Hate You.

This is an email blast written by a monster.

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Hot Tips For Your First Novel

It’s all happening. You’ve finally decided. Enough waiting around, today is the day you start your bestseller. And yet the path to success is not smooth: it’s a well-documented fact that the beginning is one of the most difficult parts of writing a novel, second only to the conclusion and general plot-heavy middle bit, and so, in the great tradition of the seemingly nonstop Writing Tips From Writerly Writers pieces orbiting the internet like so many axiom-heavy birds of prey, we have compiled a helpful list of starting points to get you going on that crucial first sentence. Try one! Try them all! Try them all at once in a string and BOOM, you’ve got yourself a chapter! Read on:

OPTION #1:

Stevie smiled at Emily. “Dear old Emily,” he thought. “My sweetest, most platonic friend.” Emily smiled back. “Dear old Stevie,” she thought. “One day I will kill you and dance on your grave.”

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Bollocks

The railroad is dead. Its dried-up bones lie rusting beneath a California sun in the dusty rockhills of Riverside. A screech and a clank from another time breathes life into its dry bones and a ghostly cart and a cart and a cart passes by. We are sitting in a restaurant. Ours. Though the faded sign – Crazy Greek’s – would call me a liar. The ’s is possessive, but the owner is Mexican and perfectly sane as far as we can tell. We sit nursing cheeseburgers and french fries. I entertain a mild concern for Grandpa’s meal, as he’s diabetic and a thousand other things.

He grabs my hands firmly in his soft wrinkled paws and prays loud as a bullhorn. Baptist preacher in his blood, in his voice, sounding to the ringing ears of this squinty-eyed Oriental (as he lovingly refers to half of me and all of my mother). “WE COME TO YOU LORD THANKING YOU FOR THIS FOOD ASKING THAT YOU NOURISH OUR BODIES AND MAKE US WHOLE.  ALL IN JESUS’ NAME AYMEN.” I cringe, embarrassed by his eye-clenching devotion.

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The Fotherington-Vanderbilt Weiss Literary Arts Award Selection Committee

Welcome!

Congratulations on your acceptance into the prestigious ranks of the Fotherington-Vanderbilt Weiss Literary Arts Award Selection Committee!

We have prepared the following guidelines to aid you in your selection of a Fotherington-Vanderbilt Weiss Literary Arts Award shortlist. Please read them closely and follow them throughout your selection process.

Residency Requirement

We believe that, as New York City is the world capital of the literary arts community, a strong Fotherington-Vanderbilt Weiss Literary Arts Award shortlist should contain 50 – 60% writers affiliated with New York City. This affiliation can come through birthplace, college attendance, or current residence. For the purposes of the Fotherington-Vanderbilt Weiss Literary Arts Award, New York City will be defined as Brooklyn and Manhattan.

Diversity Guidelines

The shortlist must contain a literary artist who comes from one of the following communities:

– African-American
– Other “Writers of Color”
– Blue-collar
– Foreign-born
– Southern
– LGBTQ
– Female

The Fotherington-Vanderbilt Weiss Literary Arts Foundation is strongly committed to promoting diversity in the literary arts, and our Diversity Guidelines help ensure that we continue to advance this cause; we regret that the Fotherington-Vanderbilt Weiss Literary Arts Award Selection Committee will be unable to consider more than one writer who meets a Diversity requirement, with the exception of white female authors, who may comprise 25 – 35% of the shortlist (space permitting). Please make your selections accordingly.

Illicit content

Graphic depictions of sexual content are permissible so long as the sex is joyless, deviant, or between an older male literature/creative writing professor and a young female student. (The latter is strongly encouraged.)

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Literacy: A Short Story

The summer Adam took a job at the Department of Examinations and Standards was the same his friends had started working for free. People were kinder than they had to be. They looked into their wines and said “Well at least it’s writing.”

“Writing” in italics.

“At least it’s honest.” He had replied, more than once, and had then excused himself to go stand in the bathroom.

“Honest” in bold.

The places his friends were working seemed to vary a lot in size and purpose, but the feel of these places–their “aura” as he had more than once referred to them as–seemed unified. They had small names in big writing. ZONE one was called. BIG was another. Tiny east and west London “creative hubs” that needed young guns for their twitter feeds and young hands scrubbing the inside of their cafetieres, letting the grains of yesterday’s inspiration run in tepid water through their fingers.

Still, at least it was writing. The Department of Exams and Standards had standards, after all. His interview had been with a man in his fifties called Danny, which had felt ludicrous at the time. Danny was a name built for backwards baseball caps.

“Of course, it’s an advantage if you like children” he had said, with a second’s pause “…but not in that way!” he finished, before laughing manically.

Danny, the Champion of the World.

Testing the intelligence of children between the ages of 11 and 14 was suddenly a topic within Adam’s remit. They had given him Literacy. He shared an office with a woman in her fifties called Nancy, who did Numeracy. When he met her he blurted out the first thing that had come to mind.

“My girlfriend’s name is Nancy.”

She wasn’t really.

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