I was glad to see that Gladys Taber is still a popular author on Goodreads almost 30 years after her death. I remember her long-running column in Woman’s Day Magazine called “Butternut Wisdom.” Looking back, I admire that the photo that accompanied the column was an honest portrait of a genial-looking, but rather dumpy woman. No air-brushing or Photo shopping employed. Okay, if I’m honest, I never actually read those columns, or any of her books or other work. But just the title “Butternut Wisdom” was evocative. On the other hand, most of us are captive audiences for another source of wisdom: car license plate holders. I saw one a few days ago that was meant for me, and perhaps for all writers. “Never Tell Me The Odds.” Not that I want to be in denial, but I think in order to do what I do, it’s better for me not to know the odds against getting published, landing a book deal, becoming known as a writer outside my own circle of friends, and of course, making any money at all from my work. Writing is hard enough. Why open myself up to disheartening statistics? After all, somewhere out there, people are still getting book deals, reviews in major outlets and speaking gigs. As long as that’s still happening, there’s hope for me–and you.
As I wrote in my last post, here I was, chugging merrily along, learning a new piece on the piano. And making progress. Then, suddenly, it all went haywire. Passages I had gotten “down” suddenly became impossible to play. Phrases that I had been playing unfailingly suddenly became a mishmash of mistakes. I couldn’t get it right, not at home, not during my lesson. It was still my fingers. Still the standard keyboard. After thinking it over, I realized what had changed. I had committed to performing in the music school’s upcoming adult recital. Just making that commitment had triggered performance anxiety, that, paradoxically, wrecked my performance–months ahead of the actual event!
I had my weekly piano lesson yesterday. My teacher and I are preparing a piece for the music school’s recital in April. Abram is a perfect teacher. He knows just when to push, when to correct, when to praise. Yesterday we worked out the best fingering for several passages. He also suggested learning the last passage first, then, working backwards, adding each passage in turn until I get to the beginning. These techniques help. But after the lesson is over, it’s up to me to practice the fingering endlessly, until the muscle memory for that phrase has been fixed in my brain. It’s up to me to practice each passage until they flow smoothly from one to another. His suggestions can give me a boost, but in the end it’s up to me to do the necessary work.
I saw a call for submissions from one of the newer short mystery fiction magazines. I had recently bought an issue and wanted to read it to determine if I had anything in inventory that might be suitable for them. Turns out I didn’t. The general tone, style and subject matter were quite dissimilar to what I write. But what tumbled my writer’s emotions into the cellar was the high quality of the pieces. While the stories may not have been what I like to read, the writing was undoubtedly top notch. “Who can compete with that?” I thought. “I should just give up.” I didn’t sleep much that night. But in the morning, I realized I had gotten the wrong end of the stick. I don’t have to be those guys to be a good writer or to find a home for my work. I just needed to be my own best writerly self. I can also work to be better than I already am. Plus, I have to remember all the truly bad writing I’ve seen in print. In fact, I’ve read more than one interview with successful writers who said they got started by reading something awful and thinking, “I can do better than that.” This actually happened to me years ago. I was in a writing class and a woman read a poem about a cat. It was a real clunker. I immediately thought, “I can write a better cat poem,” and sitting right there in class, I did! And sold it to one of the old confession magazines, back when they published poetry. So now I remind myself that I have been published, there are many markets out there that are more open to my style, and that nobody ever said the writer’s path was easy. My job is to research more markets, keep submitting and meanwhile, beef up that inventory.
Today I’m interviewing Trisha Faye, the editor of the newly released anthology 
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, which I published last year. Last year, my mother was turning 80 and I was searching for something different and unique for a special birthday present. She certainly didn’t need any more knick-knacks or blankets. I thought of writing a book, but was looking at a fairly short time frame and didn’t think I could write an entire book by myself. So I put out a call for submissions to other authors and produced an anthology. My mom loved having a book dedicated to her, with an early picture of her and me on the cover. A year later, I think she’s still floating on air. A book honoring sisters seemed to be the perfect second anthology. 
At the end of the year, many people take stock. Artists do, too. For us, this self-assessment can take various forms. Did I create new work this year? Did I have any successes? Did I keep my vision for my work in sight? Are my skills better than they were a year ago? Do I have more confidence? Am I any good at all? In response to my own questions and to others, I can do no better than to quote Martha Graham.
. . . that I’m most grateful for, in addition to the writers groups that offer so much substantive help is: electronic submissions. I remember looong ago, at writer’s conferences, you always could tell a raw beginner when they would ask, “What’s an SASE?” Now that acronym is once again becoming mysterious. And thank goodness. During this time of year, when standing in line at the post office is an accepted, but wearying necessity, I remember the old days of trudging to the post office to mail manuscripts. I was constantly juggling multiple sizes of envelopes, getting them weighed for correct postage, taking extreme care that they were postmarked by the rigid deadline. Then worrying that they got delivered and that the usual rejection also didn’t go astray. And yes, there were cases where manuscripts got lost behind some editor’s radiator. If you wanted to submit to a foreign market, you had to buy IRCs in the correct amount for that country’s postage. (IRC=International Reply Coupon.)
I didn’t write a post about being grateful at Thanksgiving, but now’s the time. I had coffee a few days ago with a friend who has her own business in a different field from mine. She had mentioned she was planning taking a course in “social media” for her particular field. It sounded interesting, as we writers often have our websites, blogs, Twitter feeds, etc. But when I asked her about it, she said she had bailed out. She found out it cost $2000.00!!! Sheesh. So now I’m super grateful for all the groups I belong to, both online and IRL. These include -
Sisters in Crime
Goodreads
Lida Bushloper 