Still no word. It’s like waiting for a response for a wedding proposal. All the emotional investment hangs on one answer and the !@#$**! response won’t come. Thecarrier pidgeon probably got eaten by a bird.
I am taking my last-minute contact as a sign that I am a borderline talent. Maybe I’m on the waiting list. Maybe I’m in the “which four of these eight do we want” stack. Maybe I wrote the wrong phone numer or email address on my application. Regardless, my rejection couldn’t have been an easy decision, at least from CW. I have no confirmation yet as to whether Clarion (east) has started informing their rejects.
My West application was confirmed as received on the sixth of January. That’s right, January. My East app, February sixth. We’ll see if six is my lucky number or not. Damn, these workshops sure know how to make a guy sweat.
So I wait. I’m not alone; Jamie, Sandra (I think), and others wait with me. It’s still lonely, not knowing.
The CW forum shows that people are starting to get rejection emails. I don’t have one yet. I’ll be checking my email fifty times today. Usually when I do that it’s because I want to get an email. Not today.
So hope exists for CW, but its glimmer is quite dim.
Leslie Howle, Clarion West director, posted a message in the CW forum. she said good stuff about how many deserving candidates they have this year and how hard the selection process has been…but the part I found most interesting was her statement about how they would finalize the class this week. *swallows hard* So Clarion should be letting people know by Friday and CW is letting people know by…what, Saturday? Monday at the latest.
So it’s down to the wire. Things aren’t looking good for me and Clarion. Apparently Clarion east acceptees are being asked to keep things quiet until everyone has been contacted, so who knows how many of those slots are left. I wait as calmly as I can (which is not very) for the phone to ring. It hasn’t yet.
I haven’t given up. The CW list only has about six or seven names. I’ll get through this week, then know what my summer holds. Fast track to professional markets, or the slow track. That’s pretty much the difference.
My blog has been stagnant a few days, hasn’t it? Why? Well, nothing is happening. I’m making progress on my first draft of “Kree” (still no better title…it really needs one), but that’s about it. No news from workshops, no useful blogging of others being accepted. Squat. As best I can tell, West has 15 slots still unassigned (well, maybe unawarded would be better worder; I bet they’re assigned by now) and East has all 18. I expect news from the latter this week if they are to meet their own deadline of March 20th (Friday). But what am I going to do if they run long, refuse an invitation? I don’t think so. West, on the other hand, has conflicting statements on their website. In the FAQ it says applicants will hear by mid-March while the workshop page says the end of March. Forum posts from people in the know have validated the later date.
So what to do now? I was watching television with my 2-year-old daughter and her show offered me advice (while I was typing on the CW forum, no less): “When waiting is really hard for you, just do something you like to do!” Thank you, Kai-Lan. So I am reading (John Kessel’s award-winning novella “Stories for Men”), writing (that Kree story), spending time with my daughter (she just got a Sit-n-Spin), and going to see The Watchmen tomorrow afternoon (reviews are everywhere, but I’ll surely add my $.02 here afterward).
Once my Clarion applications were submitted (maybe a little before), I started hunting books and stories by the instructors for both workshops. Some of that is covered in my earlier post, Treasures from the Book Cellar. I bought a collection of John Kessel’s early stuff, Meetings at Infinity, Rudy Rucker’s Software, Kim Stanley Robinson’s first two Mars books, an audiobook of Robert Crais’s The Forgotten Man… Most of it was used (sorry for not supplying a royalty) so I could still afford to eat those weeks. Only later did I start sifting through the few short story collections I already own.
John Kessel is everywhere. I am embarrassed to say I had never paid much attention to his name before writing my application. He’s in the Year’s Best book I have, he’s in Paragons, he’s in my Best Time Travel Science Fiction of the 20th Century (I think…I don’t remember; I’ll double check when I get home and edit here if I blew it). I had four or five of his stories just lying around the house. Still, I’m glad I got his collection.
UPDATE: Yes, Kessel has a story in the time travel book, “The Pure Product”.
I’ve had trouble finding a few authors. I’m trying to find them on my own instead of hunting them through their websites or Wikipedia entries (though I cheated with Kessel). I finally stumbled across an Elizabeth Bear story in Strange Horizons’ fiction archives. I haven’t read it yet, but I’ll get to it this week. I haven’t found Nalo Hopkinson yet. I’ll hunt her work more aggressively if I get accepted to CW.
The Clarion (east) crowd has been tougher to find. I saw the movie based on Holly Black’s and Robert Crais’ work (The Spiderwick Chronicles and Hostage) respectively. I have verified that my school library has some of Black’s books and I’ll read some if I end up going to San Diego. (My reading time is getting stretched thin trying to keep up with both!) Park, Hand, and Lai just don’t seem to cross paths where I am looking. Again, acceptance to east will get me hunting more aggressively.
I am also trying to keep up with other writers often associated with Clarion. Knight and Wilhelm are the most obvious pair. I read Octavia Butler’s Wild Seed a couple years ago, mostly from its recommendation in Orson Scott Card’s How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy.
So my reading is keeping me busy. I am also working on my females-as-warriors story (tentatively titled “Kree” until I get a better feel for its theme) and checking the web fifty times a day for evidence of Clarion acceptances. I think it may be time to switch to decaf.
Yesterday I did something I haven’t done in years: I flew a kite. It wasn’t an elaborate kite, just a one dollar Wal-Mart special with a picture of Elmo. It was my wife’s idea that my daughter would enjoy it. As usual, my wife was right. Abby wanted to hold the string the whole time and was very upset when the kite came down (which happened frequently in the gusty day). It was a nice bonding moment. I will get Elmo out again soon.
It was an experience I wanted to share with people, maybe write a story with such a scene, but I don’t think I can do it. I could describe the actions, but there is no describing the feeling a parent experiences sharing a moment with their child. The best I could hope to accomplish would be to stir that emotion in people who have experienced something similar. It made me feel inadequate as a writer.
I am an inadequate writer, don’t get me wrong, but writers are supposed to write the stuff they feel it is important to share. Really, it can’t be done.
Maybe I take the writer’s mission statement too literally. Maybe it is most important that I make it clear that the character feels this, whether the reader feels it themselves could be irrelevant. Negative emotions and sensations are so much simpler: anger, frustration, pain, defeat, sadness. You don’t have to have had your fingernails removed with needle-nosed pliers to appreciate the description in a story. I’m not sure the mix of love, pride, accomplishment, and giving shares that potential.
I am making it a goal to write a story including that kind of moment. I’m not ready right now, but I want to do it. Maybe at Clarion (east or west, whichever comes through) when my idea bank starts emptying out, when my skills are sharp and my wits are dull. It doesn’t have to be a kite, maybe give the experience a speculative twist. A wizard teaching his child to levitate objects. A tribal alien sharing a first hunt with its offspring.
Think how many more experiences like this I have opportunities to enjoy. Riding a bike, driving a car (way in the future), first love letter, first fishing trip (Mom may be better at that). O am overwhelmed. It makes me feel guilty for the number of days I’ve let slip by without sharing something new with her. She is only two. How many things can I expect her to appreciate right now?
It also makes me feel guilty for hoping so vehemently to leave her for six weeks this summer. I did not stop being my own person when she was born, I need to continue pursuing my own dreams as well as hers, but I still feel like a heel. I bet I could write that feeling into a story, selfishness and shame.
This is not usually what I do with this blog. You are not my therapist. I just felt this needed to be shared, so here it is. I promise something more upbeat next time.
I have still not heard anything about Clarion or Clarion West. I have met no writers. I have not sold any new stories of late. But somehow I feel like I am starting to become part of a community of writers.
Part of it is the blog connection. I’m still pretty new at all this and seeing other writers’ blogs and reading them and linking to them and knowing they are dropping by here…it’s all so warm and fuzzy.
Another part is the shared anticipation I am experiencing with all the writers on the CW forums (except Jordan, that show-off 😀 ) as we wait for the phone to ring. The shared experience of simply applying for the workshop is bonding. Imagine what the actual workshop will do…
But I am happy with the bonding I am experiencing now. I feel like I am a writer. Only a barrel of sales would make me feel more like one. I’ll get to work on that now.
Jordan Lapp (first applicant accepted for this year’s CW, congratz to him) posted his application essay on his blog. I thought this was a great idea, so here’s mine. I haven’t been accepted yet, but my phone is still connected.
Clarion West Application Essay
Scott W. Baker
Howdy, I’m Scott. Yes, I said it: howdy. I’m not quite sure why I say it. I was born near Rochester, NY – not exactly a “howdy” place. I moved to Tennessee when I was four, grew up surrounded by other displaced Yankees, none of whom said howdy. So why do I say it? It’s just another part of me that defies explanation.
I can’t explain why I wear Hawaiian shirts to work in the winter. Nor my (platonic) obsession with penguins. Nor why I have a Spanish nickname (Oso) but can’t speak the language. I certainly can’t explain why I have to quote Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles every time I teach an algebra class about radicals.
Oops, busted. By day, I masquerade as a high school math teacher.
Believe me when I tell you I am a good math teacher. Some of my students love me. Some despise me. Most regard me with the passing amusement owed a grown man imitating an applauding Tyrannosaurus. Do they remember that I was teaching them the triangle inequality when I did that? I blissfully choose to believe they do.
So why is a happily employed math teacher applying for a speculative fiction workshop? Why do amputees develop itches in their missing limbs? Whether it’s real or not, I feel there is a part of me missing, a part that can entertain, inspire, engross, or at least awaken something in people that wasn’t there before. I teach for a living; what I am is a writer. That’s an itch I have to scratch.
My favorite distraction.
Everyone that writes knows it is impossible to find time to write. If you want to have time, you must make time. Making time is one of the hardest things I have tried to do in my life. It has become even harder in the past two years since the most beautiful little distraction entered my life – Abigail. That two-year-old is the sweetest little migraine ever born. How do I tell her, “Not now, Abby, Daddy’s writing a story about energy-eating people in outer space?” So I try to work around her: losing sleep, postponing test grades, writing on the toilet, losing more sleep…and still occasionally saying “Not now, Abby, Daddy’s writing a story about the moral dilemmas of using clones to serve in the military.”
Six weeks of “no Abby, Daddy’s in Seattle” will be very tough for me, as will being apart from my equally beautiful wife, Christi. I will miss them both every minute. But a day will come when Abby is proud of her daddy for the sacrifices he made the summer of 2009 in order to fulfill his dream. Maybe it will give her the strength to sacrifice for a dream of her own one day.
Money will be the least of the sacrifices I make to attend Clarion West. If you know anything about teacher salaries in Tennessee, that’s saying a lot. Nonetheless, I understand and accept each of those sacrifices in pursuit of my calling.
The first time writing called to me, I was an undergrad education major. An idea crawled into my head and took up residence until I finally grabbed the keyboard and wrote a novel. I shopped it around long enough to learn how bad it was.
Next I wrote a quaint time travel story that actually sold to the first market I submitted to. It was a small story sold to a small market for small money. Still, the instant acceptance was not exactly a taste of the reality of writing – that reality check was coming for my next story. And the next few. I have made a (small) number of semi-pro sales in my career, but mostly just more rejection slips.
I have no formal training to write. The things I know have been wrenched out of “how to” books, imitated from other authors, acquired through online groups (like Critters.org), gleaned from experience, or found inside my soul. I fear these ponds are running dry. I need new resources if my writing is to continue to grow.
My small town in Tennessee has a genre-savvy population comparable to the clientele of a dry cleaner in a nudist colony. I need to immerse myself in a community of…well, people like me. Dreamers, cynics, wordsmiths, worldsmiths…writers.
I have been writing for ten years and have no intention of stopping any time soon, come workshop or high water. What I want is to write better – to write well. CW can accelerate that process, cram a decade into a few weeks. I need to understand my mistakes so I can learn from them. I need the criticism. I need the focus. I need the environment. I need Clarion West.
There are reports that Clarion West has begun calling applicants. These are only vague rumors without corroboration and may be a hoax. The way it was worded declares that CW called, but not that they accepted or rejected him. Just that they called. They might have been checking on a clerical error in his application or a million other things. It’s the type of smart-alec thing I’d do to irritate people. It’s just how I roll.
But if calls are being made (requests may have been made not to announce), I may be hearing in the next few days. Or a t least by the 20th.
Grrr… (Growl of the wild Oso)
Update: Jordan Lapp, the applicant in question, is in for Clarion West. Props to him.
I had a nice comment or two from a Baen’s Bar user named Rad. Some minor hunting revealed him as a Clarion 2007 graduate (yes, the one whose two year old blog post freaked me out the other day). It’s nice getting compliments (even vague, keep-at-it compliments) from writers who have already passed the stage of their careers that I am in. Did he say I was brilliant? No, of course not. I did once have an editor say I was brilliant (or did something brilliant) only to not print the story. That sucked. But he said I “…have more going than most.” Not glowing, but nice.
It was especially nice after the painful critique he just gave “Leech Run” in the slush. Ouch. It was good stuff, a very in-depth critique not terribly dissimilar from what I strive for through Critters. But any time someone uses the words “Please no!” repetitively in relation to your story, it stings. He had a point, that I had overdone the headcounting. His advice helped my rewrite, but I have written myself into a corner (or a middle, if that’s possible) where I need to gut a small section and rework it, probably building in more action.
Anyway, it was nice of Rad. (You can look up his real name yourself the same way I did, but you have to be a Baen’s Bar member.)
So what to do now? I was watching television with my 2-year-old daughter and her show offered me advice (while I was typing on the CW forum, no less): “When waiting is really hard for you, just do something you like to do!” Thank you, Kai-Lan. So I am reading (John Kessel’s award-winning novella “Stories for Men”), writing (that Kree story), spending time with my daughter (she just got a Sit-n-Spin), and going to see The Watchmen tomorrow afternoon (reviews are everywhere, but I’ll surely add my $.02 here afterward).
Scott W. Baker .net 