“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”

For the last 2 years, I’ve been in school full-time, a Creative Writing and Lit major.  Between that and being a full-time mother, and then working part-time…it didn’t leave me much space for my own writing.  I used to be able to sit down and the words would flow, and then everything got shuffled around and cramped while I was in school.

The Creative Writing program I was in left something to be desired.  I didn’t want professors telling me I couldn’t write speculative fiction, because that wasn’t their forte and they couldn’t help me.  I didn’t want a program that focused heavily on Literature, to the detriment of focusing on the craft of writing.  I wanted a program that offered classes on editing, polishing your work, or publication.  The waters there are deep and murky, and it’s a place where most students need a life preserver.

Over the last two years, countless classmates of mine have started up the conversation of, “What do we do after we graduate?  How do we take our natural ability to write and turn it into something tangible?”  No one spent time teaching them how to start navigating the world, so I passed on what little knowledge I have.

These days, now that I have more time to myself, I’m focusing on my writing.  Editing short stories that I’ve written in the past and submitting them, working on new things…it’s a never ending parade of creativity in my little nook here.  It’s harder than it used to be, though.  I have to work for my words.  Eventually, I’ll get the flow back, but until then, I just push through and keep going.


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