Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch
July 30, 1999
5:46 a.m.
The coffee is very black. The remnants of yesterday's story are filed away in a manilla envelop and tucked into the cardboard file box beside my table with all the others. The cat's put outside. Brigid's actually asleep. Sarah McLachlan's Mirror Ball is on the CD. Everything is arranged, and right. This morning is perhaps the most important morning of the rest of the year, and I want everything to be in its place and just so. My goal today, you see, is to decide what I'll write for the next couple months. The candidates are many. I've got a novel, and a novella I need to get to. I'm certain a short story is first. And a new short story has raised its head and roared at me recently. When you write for only two hours a day, ideas pile up faster than they get written. Yeah, I know . . . cry me a river. But it can actually get to be a problem. The idea pool gets so large that you think you can never get to it all, and then you see the pile of stories you have circulating, and despite the success you've had this year you begin to wonder if there's really any point to it all, I mean why write these ideas when they'll just be rejected by all the majors anyway? And if you're not going to write those ideas, why write any ideas? Last year, I met Tamela, and Chiara, and Diana (well, I already knew Diana from before, but she was there), and Susan Fry at Baltimore's Worldcon. They had come directly from Clarion, and were all pumped up about stuff in general. I remember saying that I would love to do Clarion merely for the experience. "I would love to spend six weeks doing nothing but writing-related stuff," I said. As a foursome, they broke out laughing. I'll leave it for them to explain why. But I was serious. I would love to have six weeks to do nothing but try to drain my pool of ideas. I would love to get to the point where the idea well was dry again--not that I think I can ever really get there, but I wouldn't mind trying. I wrote eight stories last year in LA. No, not all of them were great, but one has already sold to a major market, and I'm expecting at least one more to find a home someplace. At this point in my so-called career, I'll take a .250 batting average if it results in two sales for a week's effort. Recently I was talking to Lisa (the copyeditor/wife, not the writer/friend) about the recent Clarion journals, and how I would love to be there. "I bet I would come away from Clarion with twenty or twenty five stories," I said. And I meant it. Yeah, yeah, I know. They critiqued stories at Clarion, too. Hey, I critted 14 stories in the WotF week. I know what I'm talking about. I can already hear it, though. Someone, someplace is going to say, "Ron Collins said you should get 20 stories out of Clarion or you're a lowly wimp." Don't get me wrong. That's not what I'm saying. No one has to write the same way I write. I enjoy writing more when I can work in extended chunks of time. And I think I perform better in these dedicated periods. Stories I write in single sittings (or thereabouts) are more creative stories than those I write in one and two hours chunks over a period of two or three weeks. They hold together, and are more concise. Yes, my prose is not as sparkling, and they need more clean-up. But I've got my secret weapon that helps me there. Life as a writer is helped appreciably when you're married to a copy editor that is so good as to get personal kudos from Orson Scott Card. The first draft of "The Disappearance of Josie Andrew" was written in somewhere around five hours. "Stealing the Sun" was done in about six. The first draft of "Out of the Blue" was conceived and written in a single day during a plotfest with Lisa Silverthorne (this one, to be fair, though, was redone three or four times over the next couple months). These are three of my best stories. And to prove it (if that can be done), they represent three of my most "prestigious" sales. I'm saying that my goal, if I were to go to Clarion, would be 20 stories. That's just the way I am. The reason I'm thinking about this right now is this: one of the best things about writing stories quickly is that it makes prioritizing of the ideas less important. Afterall, if you're going to write five stories this week, who cares which one you write first, second or third? So this morning, I'm looking at the idea pool, and my mouth is slavering, and I'm wondering ... Where will I get the time?   After all that . . . I'll be in Louisville this evening, preparing to participate in Rivercon, a convention that I always seem to have a great time at. I'm looking forward to it. I'm ready to get together with writers again, ready to tell jokes and attend a few panels and find out what's happening in the lives of folks I don't always get to see. I'm scheduled for a pair of panels, one I think with our own Stephen Leigh. here's my schedule:
If you're in the area, stop on in. And if you stop on in . . . well, make sure you grab me and say "Hi." I'll see everyone else on Monday. Have a good one.  Daily Persistence is © Ron Collins |
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"I would just like to say one thing: If you ever get a second chance in life for something, go all the way." Lance Armstrong Testicular cancer victim, after winning the Tour d'France |
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