MelissaBaby
Wordy Bitch
- Joined
- Jun 8, 2017
- Posts
- 7,215
Five years ago today, I submitted my first story to Lit.
I had written quite a lot when I was a kid. (Including stories about a girl named Ramona Greentree, who was a forest ranger and had wonderful adventures that were very different from the ones she had later as an adult...) Like a lot of kids, as I got older, I put that creative part of me aside.
But in the early part of 2017, I was trying to make sense of changes in my life. After some very troubled years, things were looking up. I was doing well in my recovery from addiction, I was staying out of trouble, and I was entering into the first really positive romantic relationship of my life.
I had taken a couple of creative writing classes while I was incarcerated, just to pass the time. But I began to feel the urge to really write, to articulate my feelings and try to make sense of them, to myself, and perhaps to others. I started a tumblr blog and wrote some posts, about addiction, life in prison, and my new relationship, but they were tentative and unsatisfactory. I decided to try writing a full, emotionally honest, though slightly fictionalized memoir.
As I began to write, I felt both exhilarated and terrified. I was, to use a current trope, "speaking my truth," and the words flowed, fast and furious. One of the things that became clear in my mind was that my sexuality and my addiction had always been entangled, and could not be easily separated. Any frank account would contain explicit sexual content.
That led me to Lit as a venue to publish my story. I uploaded the first chapter of My Fall and Rise, then sat and stared at the screen for a long time. I held my breath for a minute, then hit publish.I felt a great feeling of relief. It was out there, for good or ill.
Two days later, I received a notification that it had been rejected for formatting and punctuation errors.
I nearly threw in the towel. I realized that if putting my story out there was a part of my recovery, rejection, by a moderator or by readers, might endanger it. But I had already put so much effort into it, I did not want to back down. I went through the FAQ, read a couple of helpful articles, and sent in an edited version. Then I waited five days, checking over and over again to see if it been accepted.
Finally, it was. Not many people read it, at first, and the scores were good, but not great. I only got three comments, but they all encouraged me to continue the story.
The second chapter got fewer views but higher scores. I began to feel encouraged, and over the next three months, finished all thirteen chapters. I ws grateful that, along the way, a number of people, both readers and fellow authors, offered me support and advice. I was very grateful for that. I had approached the writing project with the thought that it was a one and done, I didn't expect to write anything else for public consumption.
There were people here, and you know who you are, who believed I was a good writer long before I did. I began to think I would continue with a new project.
On the night after the final chapter of My Fall and Rise went online, I broke down weeping, the catharsis of finishing my story was so powerful.
The next day, I sat down with my laptop and started writing Mary and Alvin, an epic romance deliberately designed to be as much of a change of pace as I could imagine.
Five years after that initial submission, I write, at least a little bit, every day. I have written humor and horror and lesbian romance. I've written about strippers and sailors, call girls and cops, and yes, about a girl who grows up to be very adventurous forest ranger. Sixty four submissions to date. Most sporting a lovely red H. A couple with a W as well.
I could not, would not, have done it without the the strength and wisdom I learned for many of you here in the Hangout. With all my heart, thank you.
I had written quite a lot when I was a kid. (Including stories about a girl named Ramona Greentree, who was a forest ranger and had wonderful adventures that were very different from the ones she had later as an adult...) Like a lot of kids, as I got older, I put that creative part of me aside.
But in the early part of 2017, I was trying to make sense of changes in my life. After some very troubled years, things were looking up. I was doing well in my recovery from addiction, I was staying out of trouble, and I was entering into the first really positive romantic relationship of my life.
I had taken a couple of creative writing classes while I was incarcerated, just to pass the time. But I began to feel the urge to really write, to articulate my feelings and try to make sense of them, to myself, and perhaps to others. I started a tumblr blog and wrote some posts, about addiction, life in prison, and my new relationship, but they were tentative and unsatisfactory. I decided to try writing a full, emotionally honest, though slightly fictionalized memoir.
As I began to write, I felt both exhilarated and terrified. I was, to use a current trope, "speaking my truth," and the words flowed, fast and furious. One of the things that became clear in my mind was that my sexuality and my addiction had always been entangled, and could not be easily separated. Any frank account would contain explicit sexual content.
That led me to Lit as a venue to publish my story. I uploaded the first chapter of My Fall and Rise, then sat and stared at the screen for a long time. I held my breath for a minute, then hit publish.I felt a great feeling of relief. It was out there, for good or ill.
Two days later, I received a notification that it had been rejected for formatting and punctuation errors.
I nearly threw in the towel. I realized that if putting my story out there was a part of my recovery, rejection, by a moderator or by readers, might endanger it. But I had already put so much effort into it, I did not want to back down. I went through the FAQ, read a couple of helpful articles, and sent in an edited version. Then I waited five days, checking over and over again to see if it been accepted.
Finally, it was. Not many people read it, at first, and the scores were good, but not great. I only got three comments, but they all encouraged me to continue the story.
The second chapter got fewer views but higher scores. I began to feel encouraged, and over the next three months, finished all thirteen chapters. I ws grateful that, along the way, a number of people, both readers and fellow authors, offered me support and advice. I was very grateful for that. I had approached the writing project with the thought that it was a one and done, I didn't expect to write anything else for public consumption.
There were people here, and you know who you are, who believed I was a good writer long before I did. I began to think I would continue with a new project.
On the night after the final chapter of My Fall and Rise went online, I broke down weeping, the catharsis of finishing my story was so powerful.
The next day, I sat down with my laptop and started writing Mary and Alvin, an epic romance deliberately designed to be as much of a change of pace as I could imagine.
Five years after that initial submission, I write, at least a little bit, every day. I have written humor and horror and lesbian romance. I've written about strippers and sailors, call girls and cops, and yes, about a girl who grows up to be very adventurous forest ranger. Sixty four submissions to date. Most sporting a lovely red H. A couple with a W as well.
I could not, would not, have done it without the the strength and wisdom I learned for many of you here in the Hangout. With all my heart, thank you.
