SethFleisher.com

I've been really quiet. I know. Please don't think I've been angry, or worse, cheating. I think of you constantly.

I've just been busy, that's all. I'm trying to finish a draft of my book. Surely, you of all people can understand this. There's never enough time for everything. So forgive, okay? I'll be back soon. I promise.

And in the meantime, happy 4th of July.

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Something about this title reminds me of Planet of the Apes. Not sure why.

I got my official acceptance letter from the Squaw Valley Community of Writers conference this week. It wasn't a huge surprise--I was there two years ago, my wife and I are friendly with the director, yada yada yada--but hey, acceptance letters are always welcome around these parts. And I'm excited to be returning for a week at the beginning of August.

It was something of an impetuous decision, re-applying this year. Hadn't planned on it at all. But the looming start date has given me some writing momentum. I'm shooting to have a full draft of my short story collection within a month, in time to bring with me. It won't be flawless or complete, but it should be good enough to share significant excerpts or even the whole manuscript should I stumble upon an interested agent or editor.

I'll be heading to the Sierras with the whole familia again. Last time around, Amy Tan was incredibly gracious (though I suspected she was secretly scowling) as my two-year-old son laid out 300 of his toy trucks on the dining table in her vacation house. Wondering how she'll react if I bring both of my little fellas to her pad this time. Hmmmm....

Earlier this week I was putting the final touches on a story rewrite when I remembered a line I'd written for another piece. I'd shelved that other story a couple years ago after at least half a dozen failed attempts at getting it to work. But this one line--it was exactly what I needed for the current piece I was finishing.

So I dug around in my archives, located the errant story, and scoured it to find the line. Here's the thing: as I leafed through the pages, I suddenly knew how I could fix the whole piece. And how well it would work as the final story in the collection I'm wrapping up. Hot diggedy.

So if you've been wrangling for a long time over the same story--or novel--doing your damndest to wrestle it into submission (pun intended) to no avail, I say shelve it. Give it a month. Give it a year. Give it two. I'm officially a believer now. Time is the writer's Visine. (Or something like that--you know what I mean).