Up early to do a bit of writing, then off to meet a new client. Home for a quick lunch. Mowed the lawn, hit the gym, then drove to the office to put a few more revisions in place.
Looking to push “A Convergence of Interests” out the door before the weekend. Other stories coming along, too.
Read with skeptical interest a piece online two days ago. Part of the Kenyon review’s “Why We Chose it” series. The writer suggested, without buttressing the observation in any useful way, that the most difficult stories to write were those whose word count was over 2500 words but under 3500. I wonder if it occurred to her that those are the word limits to which most pubs adhere, and by extension, the stories she sees most often. I mean, if most of the pieces you publish come in at 3000 words, the law of averages says you’re going to run into a fair number of clinkers, right?
Why do I waste my time reading that sort of anecdotal nonsense? The only secret to better writing is hard work and study. Enough griping. Lord Jim is calling from my nightstand.