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The
Alchemy of Writing
KIS.list:
MAY 2002, Week 25
I have slowed down the frequency of the KIS.list so that
I could focus more committed time to my novel. Yet even with
this slower schedule I did not write the piece I wanted to
write this month for the KIS.list. Well, there's always next
month. This month I share with you some ruminations on writing,
but first, the acceptances and rejections.
I have a rejection and an acceptance this month. The rejection
is for a story I wrote before Clarion. I don't
know how many of you read my Clarion reports, but in them
I talk about discovering that my characters don't
make choices in many of my stories. At Clarion we had lots
of conversations about what a vignette is vs. a short story.
My memory is foggy, but I believe a vignette simply
presents a situation while a story has actual plot elements.
All that to say, I submitted a pre-Clarion story for publication
and it was rejected with a note saying: ":Nicely written
but it doesn't really feel like a story to me--more
a descriptive vignette." I smiled when I received that
note, thinking immediately of Clarion.
I had a story "Rosamojo" accepted in an anthology
forthcoming from Warner Books called Mojo: Conjure Stories.
I plan to read "Rosamojo" and "Ancient, Ancient"
at reading to celebrate African Voices magazine this Sunday
July 7 at the NAACP Headquarters, 270 W. 96th Street, 2 p.m.
to 5 p.m. So I add an acceptance and a rejection to my acceptance/rejection
o'meter.
P.S. you would think after the pummeling I got last week
regarding rejections to grants/residencies and workshops,
I wouldn't be applying to anymore, but there was one that
my friends convinced me was too juicy to resist. So I applied.
The results will come out in September.
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KIINI'S
ACCEPTANCE/REJECTION O'METER: August 2001 - present
Acceptances: publications: 5, grants/fellowships: 0,
residencies/workshops: 0
Rejections: publications: 6, grants/fellowships: 1,
residencies/workshops: 4
KIINI'S ACCEPTANCE/REJECTION O'METER: August 2001 -
present
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A True Story
She is a high-minded woman, and hates complaining, so she
suffers the demands of her craft with little comment. She
bows down to each of writing's demands, barely stopping to
consider the rationality of the requests. She works hard to
save thousands, then blows it all on an intimate trip for
two: her and her writing. When she wakes every morning, she
allows no thought precedence over he ultimate consideration--what
shall I write today?
Were it a human romance, her friends would call it abusive.
They would arrange interventions and enroll her in self-help
programs. But because they, too, are artists, they sigh in
recognition of her dilemma. They know the truth of the matter.
Without time and money, ideas dance away from an artist's
fingers, refusing to be touched, caressed, held, until financial
stresses abate and total silence reigns in the household.
She is a realistic woman. She likes the feel of her warm bed,
understands the necessity of food, so she toils at tasks destructive
to the freshness of her mind. She calculates forms and corrects
inconsequential errors while remembering the morning spent
wrestling with words, wrenching meaning from images, moving
through a million worlds before breakfast. She smiles at her
boss, fully aware that each task she completes--each outside
mental pursuit she commits to--threatens her fragile relationship
with her craft. There is no amount of time that can fulfill
writing's greed. As the writer earns her (their) living, writing
sulks and pouts whispering, "if you really loved me,
I'd be the only thing occupying your time."
She finds possessive self absorbed lovers tiresome; abhors
jealousy in a mate. Yet she allows her craft to manipulate
her into making wild commitments of time, to convince her
to spend her energies recklessly, for a few solid hours spent
alone in the thrall of words. She tries to reason with writing.
When she feels it slipping from her grasp, she promises months
of time alone together. She passionately argues the need to
secure housing, pay bills, and maintain good credit, but writing
disappears anyway. Her beloved writing ensconces itself in
the homes other writers, writers who have been gifted advances,
grants and stipends from patrons. Still, she saves every extra
penny, praying that writing will return to her side. When
the bank account is full, she quits. She buys a big lock,
installs it on her front door, and waits. Writing returns
self-righteously, admonishing her that there would be no more
separations between them if she would just commit to the craft.
She nods obediently, allowing embarrassment to flood her skin.
With a few tentative touches of the keyboard, she begs writing's
absolution. Writing, forever expansive and forgiving, bursts
forth with a flood of inspired expressions. The writer sighs
in relief. She feels, once again, in love in the arms of her
craft.
Creating a piece of literature--fiction, poetry, nonfiction,
or plays--is an act of true alchemy. The writer sits alone,
fiddling with the elements of life that frighten, anger, shame,
excite and intrigue. By laying bare the most vulnerable of
emotions and the most insightful of ideas, writers create
conversations in the world. The moment one writer's reflections
are read, her individual ruminations blossom from the realm
of the personal to the wide-reaching expanse of the universal.
Even the most private of struggles can become a testimony
of the human experience. A writer writes and the world shifts.
Controversy and contemplation are birthed from the bursting
forth of words.
The alchemical miracle of writing is that literature does
not limit itself to the outward flow of ideas. The writer--entrenched
in an exploration of ideas, moods, emotions, and experiences--does
so much more than send her ideas out like envoys of her life.
When laying down thoughts and ideas the thinking writer is
forced to contemplate. Faced with gaping holes in logic or
flow, writers are forced to leave their private spaces and
ask questions of others, read someone else's experiences,
and listen to the push and pull of concepts and reality. In
the process of struggling to breathe life into an idea, the
writer opens herself to the cyclical process of transformation.
By sharing her reflections, the writer delves into her humanity.
She emerges a new person, having dived deeply into the mysteries
of humanness. Her discoveries validate readers and writers.
Each of her ruminations are missives on what it is to be human.
Each time she writes and each time someone reads her writing,
a human being finds their place in the world, affirms the
meaning of their own existence on this earth. Writing weaves
both writers and readers into the massive continuum of the
human experience.
Writing is a many layered process of creation. A masterful
turn of phrase--whether it falls into my ears or surprises
me by coming from my pen--causes energy to burst through me,
renewing my spirit and reminding me what it is to be alive.
Sometimes, when I sit down to write, I feel a deadness inside
of me. I have come to the computer to write, yet I sit before
the screen empty of ideas. A well of emotions springs up--"this
is boring," "I don't feel like it," "I
can't think of anything interesting"--yet faith whispers,
"write."
The incantation that calls up the magic of creation is simple.
Here is the ancient formula:
Write. Write anything. Try any combination of words. Keep
writing until you are grabbed by the beauty of the thing.
When the kernel of your creation reveals itself to you, keep
writing. The secrets of the piece will unfold before you--like
the petals of a flower, the thighs of a woman, the grasp of
a child.
Every writer who has been captured by the piece they are writing,
knows God. Spirit lives in the surrender of control. True
creation emerges when the writing writes the writer. Those
feverish moments when I am reaching for a sensation that is
a few words ahead of me, are the moments I write for. I am
suddenly aware of the entirety of the universe. My eyelids
open wide--the whole of me sits rigid as if shocked by electricity.
In the thrall of the creation, all I can do is ride the twists
and turns of writing. I am pressed to follow closely the image,
tone or thought that has me, until a piece of art lays before
me, shimmering and new.
Here I am--a woman, a single human being, with a mountain
of experiences inside me. I sit down with "nothing to
write" and writing happens anyway. Words meld and emerge.
I am led on a miraculous journey outside of the bounds of
reason and conscious thought. The infinite capabilities of
my mind assert themselves and suddenly a world is born. This
magical act of creation does not live exclusively in the "fun"
genres of writing. The magic moment of creation exists in
term papers, required book reviews, and assigned blurbs. It
is happening now as I write this essay. Each piece of writing
has its key. There is always a secret button that, when touched,
opens the door on the piece's identity. I write for that moment.
I am a writer because that "aha moment" exists.
Tucked in every successful piece of writing is the flash of
alchemy when the author discovers what it is she is writing
about. Instantly, every thing recedes from consciousness.
Hunger and thirst are gone. All that matters is the urgent
flow of words, spilling from the mysterious voice in the writer's
head to the blank page on the computer screen.
Writing is expansive. It can hold any experience, any reality,
any emotion. It is the language of a people, recorded. It
is where I bury my anger, my elation, my dark theories, and
my optimistic truths. Writing can hold all of me, beyond the
bounds of my body, my personality, my experience or my circumstance.
It is a balm, a salvation, a sanctuary, an advertisement,
a habit, a talent, an effort, a reality, and a dream. My breath,
my heart, my vision, my truth. Quite simply, writing is my
life.
Be well. Be love(d).
Kiini Ibura Salaam
=======FOR=========THE========RECORD=========
The latest anthology I am in--WHEN RACE BECOMES REAL: Black
and White Writers Confront Their Personal Histories (Lawrence
Hill Books, July 2002)--is finally out. It should be in bookstores
as of tomorrow. It if is not, please order it. It is what
the title suggests it is, an anthology of black and white
writers talking about race. There's a wide range of essays
and I can't wait to dig in and see what other writers contributed.
ALSO: In response to my list, one reader
writes:
Please consider self-publishing your work. I teach numerous
classes on how artists (novelists, photographers, poets, etc.)
can create and market their own works profitably, using 21st
century digital technology. I teach in Southern California,
but there are classes available all over the country. Even
if you eventually sell reprint rights to your book to a major
publisher, I believe you will be in a better position than
someone who submits an unsolicited or previously unpublished
manuscript. When you publish yourself, you are able to get
your book into the form you envisioned, rather than rely on
someone else to "get it." Even other creative people
won't get it, some times. And most of the people who review
manuscripts are not especially creative. That's why they're
editors instead of authors, or agents instead of poets. Writers
need to wake up and stop expecting someone else to "discover"
us. We need to discover ourselves, learn to make a living
from our art, and put ourselves in a better negotiation position
when dealing with companies of mass distribution. That may
sound hard, but it's hard truth. The era of the "starving
artist" is OVER. Digital technology makes it no longer
necessary to think or behave that way. Artists have power
-- the power to create. That power makes the creative world
go 'round. If only we would act like we know...
If you have readers in Southern California, please let them
know I'm teaching classes on 21st century digital publishing
at various locations. The class is called "DreamBooks:
Publish Your Dream Book For Under $200." I cover concept,
design, printing, publishing, marketing and distribution --
in ONE DAY. After this one workshop, the student is prepared
to start and operate a publishing company for his or her own
works, the works of friends, or the works of artists he or
she deems worthy. Instead of asking for a book deal, my students
are in a position to award book deals. More details about
the classes I teach are at my website, www.BelmaJ.com. I add
new classes every week, but as of today, here's my itinerary:
7/13 Palomar College
7/20 El Camino College
7/27 Los Angeles Harbor College
8/3 Glendale Community College
8/10 Los Angeles City College (tentative)
8/24 Los Angeles Southwest College
9/14 Santa Barbara City College
9/21 Palomar College
9/28 Cuesta College
10/5 Orange Coast College
10/12 Saddleback
College
In the new millennium, writers will take back control of their
words. Like Mark Twain and so many others, writers will carry
on the American tradition of publishing one's own books --
thanks to the new technology that makes it possible and profitable.
(Sorry this email is so long, but getting this message out
is my passion.)
Be well...
--
All the best,
Belma J.
www.BelmaJ.com
The Harlem Book Fair 2002 and Uptown Arts Festival
Free Books, Panel Discussions and Author After-party!
Free Tickets for panels at QBR Booth
Friday, July 19th 2002, Saturday, July 20th 2002
West 135th Street between Malcolm X and Adam Clayton
Powell, Jr. Blvds
Friday, July 19th 8pm-10pm
QBR’s Annual Phillis Wheatley Award Presentation
Honorees: Sonia Sanchez, Albert Murray, John A.Williams
Schomburg Center, 505 Malcolm X Blvd
Reception to follow, RSVP only 212.348.1681
Saturday, July 20th 2002
The Harlem Book Fair 11:30am- 7pm
Walking Tour Of Literary Harlem (meet at Schomburg Center)
Tours @ 11am and 1pm, $20/adults $12/children (up to 14yrs)
Panel Discussions and Special Events
Harlem Hospital Auditorium
506 Lenox Ave @ West 135th Street 1pm-6:45pm
- Power Brokers on the Economics of Publishing
- A Conversation with Dr. Henry Louis Gates, Jr
- Visionary Writers on the Future of America
- What Makes a Black Book Black?
Countee Cullen Library
104 West 136th Street 1pm- 6:45pm
- Black Books to Movies
- Independent Publishing Out of the Mainstream
- Erotica: The Black Body as Commercial Fiction
- Praise The Word: Contemporary Christian Literature
ANT (Schomburg Lower Level)
New Jamaican Writing: The Independence Generation
1:30pm -2:45pm
The Readers Salon
3pm - 6:15pm
Author Anika Nailah, Free and Other Short Stories
Author Linda Dominique Grosvenor, Like Boogie On Tuesday
Harlem Book Fair Author After Party
Club Shelter, 20 West 39th Street between 5th and 6th avenues
9pm until 2am, $10 at the door
door prizes, raffles, giveaways and lots of fun
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