Tag: writer

• June 27, 2022

  How to Write When You Don’t Have the Time or Energy to Write

  

  

  Don’t get me wrong, I love to write. Creative projects fill my proverbial cup. But sometimes, I just don’t have the time to devote to the practice of writing, or when I do have the time, I can’t muster up the energy to actually put my fingers to the keyboard. Am I a bad writer because I can’t get the words to flow?

  I’m not a machine. I can’t flip a switch and suddenly be in production mode. That isn’t how creativity works. When the baby hasn’t been sleeping well or when I’ve spent all of my creative energy at work or when the dishes are overflowing the sink, it’s hard to even want to write.

  And yet.

  There is a voice in my head that says, “You’re not a real writer if you avoid writing. You’ll never publish your novel, finish your podcast script, send this short story out, etc.” Maybe you’ve heard this voice, too. It’s persistent, gnawing. It’s also dead wrong.

  I don’t know anybody who can write like clockwork every single day without a break. We all feel exhausted or overwhelmed sometimes. I often take long hiatuses from my creative writing, which makes me feel guilty, but it shouldn’t. Because there are days when the news is bad and the chores can’t be ignored and after all that, I just need to shut my brain off for 30 minutes with some TV. Or simply go to bed early.

  I would love to be one of those highly disciplined artists who stick to a rigid schedule, churning out masterpiece after masterpiece. Maybe I’ll be a full-time writer someday and have the privilege to spend my days like that. But right now, I have so many other things that need my attention.

  I don’t think that makes me a bad writer or somehow not a “real” artist. I’m human—and most of us humans need to rest when we’re tired, so we can come back refreshed, inspired, and excited to put words on the page. After all, if you’re not enjoying the act of writing, then what’s the point?

  How do you write when you don’t have the time or the energy to write? 1) Aim small. Instead of writing for an hour, write for 10 minutes, or write even one sentence. It feels good to make progress on a project, no matter how small it is. 2) Maybe you don’t worry about it today. Your Word doc with its incessantly blinking cursor will still be there tomorrow. It is good to give yourself a break. Rest when your mind and body need it. Give yourself permission to focus on your to-do list and don’t feel bad about dedicating time to other parts of your life. Stephen King has to fold and put away his laundry just like the rest of us.

  It’s okay not to write. You’re still a writer, even if it’s been days, weeks, or months since you actually wrote a word. If the desire to tell a story is still in you, then you’re the real deal.

  So here’s to the working parent writers. The full-time job writers. The juggling-multiple-jobs writers. The caregiver writers. The chronic health condition writers. The gotta-focus-on-my-mental-health writers. The burned-out writers. I’m with you. And when we’re ready to get back to our manuscripts, it’s going to be amazing. Until then, be kind to yourself.

  —30—

  Jonny Eberle is a writer and podcaster in Tacoma, WA. His work has appeared in Creative Colloquy, Grit City Magazine, and All Worlds Wayfarer. You can follow him on Twitter, join his mailing list, and listen to his audio drama, The Adventures of Captain Radio, wherever you enjoy podcasts.
• March 28, 2022

  How I Finished the First Draft of My Novel

  

  

  Way back in November 2021, while insanely sleep-deprived from caring for a one-month-old, I made a fateful—and you might say crazy—decision: I decided to take a crack at writing a novel.

  This was far from my first attempt at writing a novel. My computer’s hard drive is littered with abandoned first drafts I had every intention of finishing. I can come up with ideas at the drop of a hat, but following through on those ideas has always been a struggle for me. This time, something was different.

  Every day in the month of November, I wrote. And I don’t mean I sat down at my computer with a steaming mug of tea and no distractions while I worked on my masterpiece. I was working full-time, caring for my newborn daughter, and supporting my exhausted spouse as we survived the early days of parenthood. There was no extra time for this creative endeavor. So, I wrote in the middle of the night while rocking a baby to sleep, tapping a story out one-handed on my phone in the dark at 3 a.m., and praying to the autocorrect gods that my words would be intelligible in the morning.

  November came and went. I kept writing. The Google Doc I was working in groaned under the stress as the novel grew. Soon, the app was crashing every third or fourth time I opened it. But I pressed on, determined to see the project through.

  In February of 2022, my wife went back to work and I took leave to spend time with our daughter. So, nap time became writing time. In between juggling parenting and housework, while making sure the dog was getting her walks and putting out a fiction podcast, I soldiered on.

  Last week, I typed the final line of the first draft of my novel, bringing my story to a close. I’m taking a break before diving into the next phase: editing. For now, I can at last say that I did what I set out to do. I wrote a novel. At just shy of 100,000 words long and chronicling the ups and downs of a family entangled with the Las Vegas Mob over the course of six decades, it’s no small feat.

  Several years ago, I set myself a task of completing a manuscript by the time I turned 30 years old. I missed that deadline by a couple of years, but I proved to myself that it was possible. And having done it once, I’m pretty sure I could do it again. That’s a good feeling. I’m well aware that there’s so much more work to be done. This is only the beginning. But I’m choosing to bask in this pause between the first round of labor and all the editing that is still to come to enjoy the feeling of accomplishment.

  If there’s a message to other artists in my experience of these past few months, it’s that it is never too late. If you’re contemplating a daunting creative project, go for it. Don’t wait for the perfect time, because it will never come. Take the leap. Write it down. Pick up the paintbrush. See how far you can go.

  —30—

  Jonny Eberle is a writer and aspiring podcaster in Tacoma, WA. His fiction has been featured in Creative Colloquy, Grit City Magazine, and All Worlds Wayfarer. You can listen to his debut audio drama, The Adventures of Captain Radio or his writing and creativity podcast, Dispatches with Jonny Eberle, wherever you find podcasts. Follow him on Twitter or join his mailing list for more news, writing, and musings.
• January 15, 2022

  The Birthday Resolutions Get Better with Age Like a Fine Wine

  

  

  What a year, am I right? After the dumpster fire that was 2020, 2021 offered new and unexpected challenges, along with a second helping of pandemic life just to keep things interesting. Personally, this past year was a time of incredible change, for which I’m grateful (ongoing global epidemic notwithstanding).

  This year, I became a father, and it’s by far the best thing I’ve ever done. Sure, there are exploding diapers, plenty of screaming, and sleepless nights, but there’s also a little person who smiles when she sees me, grabs my fingers tightly, and calms down at the sound of my voice. This year was one of preparation, getting everything set up, and welcoming a new life into this messy world — and the world is a brighter place for her presence.

  This was also a year that took my creative life in unforeseen directions. In November, while getting up every few hours at night with an infant, I decided to do NaNoWriMo, as a way to stay awake and much to my surprise, ended up writing 50,000 words of a novel manuscript in 30 days. I’ve kept the momentum up and now I’ve got a solid 80,000 words of a Las Vegas mobster novel and less than 20,000 words to go before I reach the end. It’s a major accomplishment for me, since I have a hard to time finishing any writing project, to be so close to typing “The End.”

  My other major creative pursuit was something completely different: a full-cast audio drama. I started writing The Adventures of Captain Radio in 2020 when I was desperate for some escape from grim reality. In 2021, I got back into the project, and the first half of our six-episode season is now available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and other audio streaming platforms.

  And to top it off, I baked some really, really delicious bread this year.

  Amazingly, for the second year in a row, I accomplished all of my birthday resolutions. Let’s see if we can keep the winning streak going. Here are my personal and creative resolutions for this coming year:

  Be the Best Parent I Can Be

  This is a big one. I’m new to this whole parenting thing and want to be a good dad. This means taking the time to be present, leaving work at work, and devoting myself fully to the joy and hardships that come with raising a tiny human. It isn’t easy, but it is rewarding and I’m looking forward to helping my daughter explore the world. I’m thankful I live in one of the few states that offers paid family leave and I’m getting ready to take off two months to spend caring for my daughter when my wife goes back to work.

  Finish What I Start

  This is a big one. I get excited by new ideas, and I’ve always been more keen to kick off a shiny new thing than to invest the energy to complete an existing project. This year, I’m endeavoring to continue the projects I began last year. That means wrapping up the first draft of my novel and starting revisions, editing and releasing the rest of my podcast, and completing work on the short story collection I began editing in 2020. This year will be a year of getting things done, even if they take a while.

  Embrace Change

  My life is vastly different than it was just a year ago. I’ve embarked on a new journey as a parent, changed jobs in the middle of a historic pandemic, and had most of my plans for the year upended in some way — but the results have been worth it. Change is inevitable. You can either fight it, getting lost in a cycle of anxiety about what might happen, or embrace it, making space to welcome the unknown. I can’t control what happens, but I can control my response to it. I hope to do this better as I begin this next trip around the sun.

  I find the practice of setting birthday resolutions to be helpful. In a decade of doing them, I haven’t always accomplished everything I set out to do or be, but that isn’t the point. The point is to try, to strive for something, to set the mark and see how close I can get. I may stumble on the way, but that’s part of the fun. Here’s to 32.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA. His new fiction podcast, The Adventures of Captain Radio, is now available to stream on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and elsewhere. His fiction has appeared in Creative Colloquy, Grit City Magazine, and All Worlds Wayfarer. You can follow him on Twitter or subscribe to his newsletter for more thoughts and musings.
• December 23, 2020

  Publishing News: December 2020

  

  It’s publication day for my newest short story! All Worlds Wayfarer is publishing my story “Firemaker” in their December 2020 issue, now available to read online for free or available as an ebook from Amazon. I’m beyond excited that this story has finally found a home. I sincerely hope you enjoy reading it.

  Read “Firemaker” Now

  Spoiler Alert: If you haven’t read the story yet, I hope you will before reading much further, because this is the point of no return if you wish to avoid spoilers. I love a good time travel tale. It’s a familiar trope for good reason — it allows us to imagine our reality in surprising ways. If we had a machine like the one my protagonist has at his disposal, I think we’d all be tempted to see what tomorrow had in store for us, or long to correct what once went wrong. But what happens once you’ve seen and done it all? Where would a weary time travel go to escape the sweeping currents of history? That’s the question at the heart of “Firemaker.”

  I started tinkering with this idea about three years ago, when I fell down a rabbit hole of information about linguistics. I remember reading about linguists searching for an ancient “mother tongue,” a lost language theorized to be the ancestor of today’s Indo-European language family. This missing language, dubbed “Proto Indo-European” can be extrapolated by looking for common words that may indicate a common root in the distant past. According to some theories, scraps of this language embedded in our modern lexicon may be the only surviving evidence of a hunter-gatherer society that existed more than 15,000 years ago. From that starting place, I began to imagine this society as a small band that did not survive the Ice Age, leaving behind nothing but their language. A dead-end civilization, cut off from us by a climactic disaster.

  Some time later, this idea merged with another one that was rolling around in my mind. I was thinking about time travel as a plot device, about the nature of time, and where a time traveler who’s tired of roaming might go. How might such a traveler retire after untold decades exploring every corner of history from the dawn of the dinosaurs to the destruction of the Earth? Where would I go if I wanted to avoid making disruptive changes to the timeline and simply be? In that position, I might want to find a quiet corner of time where I knew I couldn’t alter the flow of history, among people who would eventually disappear from the historical record. Perhaps an Ice Age civilization destined to die out.

  These two threads came together in an early draft of a story titled “Amber.” In that first version, the Traveler goes into the distant past to escape from the responsibility of knowing how everything would turn out. In that story, the Traveler came across as cold and detached, weighing the impact of his every action before committing to anything. In the story, he saves a boy from drowning, but only after deciding that doing so will have no adverse affect on history. It was an interesting thought experiment, but it lacked emotional stakes.

  So, I made some changes, put it away for a year or two, and then pulled it out again to fine-tune it. In the final story, the Traveler is much more impulsive and driven not by a sense of duty not to screw up time, but love for a woman with the potential to ensure her people’s survival as ice sheets bear down on their valley. “Firemaker” is a lot more fun than its earlier incarnation because of the protagonist’s willingness to throw away his whole life in order to get himself to Immaru ahead of schedule. But it also incorporates an undercurrent of uncertainty about whether or not we can ever understand or manipulate time. In the end, I honestly don’t know if the Traveler’s actions constitute a paradox or if that’s how it was always supposed to be and free will is an illusion. And I don’t know if the Traveler made it back to the tavern to order the drinks or if he ever existed at all. That’s the fun of time travel, and I hope you enjoyed the trip.

  “Firemaker” is now available to read on the All Worlds Wayfarer website. All Worlds Wayfarer publishes quarterly on the solstice and equinox, so you have until March 20, 2021 to read my short fiction there before the next issue is published. If you’d like a copy you can keep forever, please consider supporting the lit journal by purchasing the Kindle version on Amazon. Thanks for reading!

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle lives in Tacoma, WA with his wife, three typewriters, and a puppy. His fiction has been featured or is forthcoming in Creative Colloquy, Grit City Magazine and All Worlds Wayfarer. Read more of his short fiction here, follow him on Twitter, and subscribe to his monthly email newsletter here.
• November 22, 2019

  Motivated By Rejection

  

  This week, I got a rejection from a prominent science fiction journal. Rejections are common when you’re a writer trying to publish short fiction. The competition is fierce and editors can only publish so many stories. They have to draw the line somewhere, so the vast majority of responses you get when shopping around a story are: “No thanks” or “This isn’t what we’re looking for.”

  I’ve received my fair share of rejections since I first started sending out my short stories. The first ten or twenty really hurt. It felt personal, even though I knew it was a professional judgment on whether the story fit a particular editor’s needs, but it always felt like a condemnation of my dream of being a writer. Each rejection that piled up felt like an argument that I wasn’t any good; that I should give up.

  I don’t feel that way anymore.

  Maybe I grew a thicker skin to criticism or perhaps I’ve learned to distance myself emotionally from the process. But for whatever reason, I’ve come to see rejections as motivating rather than discouraging.

  The rejection I received this week felt good. It’s been a busy year and quality writing time is scarce these days. This was my first rejection in over a year for the simple fact that I hadn’t submitted anything to a literary journal in so long.

  So, when I got this rejection, it felt like I’d earned it. I had risked something and taken the bold step of sending a story that I’d been polishing for years out into the world. I had accomplished something and that felt good.

  Rejection is never fun, but look closer. The story I sent wasn’t what this editor was looking to publish — but they still liked it — and they invited me to submit again if I write something else. As far as rejections go, this one gave me hope that I am a decent writer after all and that my work is enjoyable to read.

  The same day I got that rejection, I submitted to the next journal on my list of favorite places to read contemporary sci-fi. They also turned it down, but I still feel like I’m back in the running and I’m more determined than ever to find this piece a home.

  Rejection can feel like defeat. Or it can feel like a nudge in the right direction. It’s up to you.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA who dabbles in filmmaking and photography. He’s (slowly) working on a novel manuscript and seeking publication for a pretty cool time travel short story. His previous fiction has appeared in the pages of Creative Colloquy and Grit City Magazine.

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• March 9, 2019

  The First Thirty Thousand Words

  

  At my core, I’m a short story writer, a factor that has been both a blessing and a curse as I set out to write a full-length novel. At the 30,000-word mark, just over one-quarter of the way to my goal, it hit me that I was attempting something new. Up until this point, I could’ve taken what I’d written so far and turned it into a very long piece of short fiction; one of those short stories without an ending that thinks its clever for leaving the reader hanging for resolution. But moving past 30,000 words in my manuscript, that easy off ramp is disappearing in the rear view mirror.

  A novel is not a short story that didn’t know when to quit. Short stories, well told, are like diamonds — small, multifaceted, and complex, but contained. They’re defined by the surprising depth and tension that comes from expertly working within the constraints of the form to make each and every word matter.

  A novel is not like that. I don’t even have a metaphor to describe it, because I’m still discovering the differences. I’ve noticed that my writing style has started to change as my word count grows. I’m thinking more about the big picture and how scenes need to echo forward and back through the narrative. Three plot points aren’t enough to sustain the whole thing from beginning to end. Instead, I’ve felt the need to add three or more complications to each scene to maintain forward momentum.

  There is no going back. I have to see this through and continue to see how the form forces my hand, as well as where I can push back to subvert it in small ways. I guess the best metaphor at this point of naïveté is a whirlpool. The farther in I venture, the more I am pulled in. It is a terrifying thing to see the scale of an unfolding novel reveal itself in bits and pieces, but it also gives me hope that I can charge ahead into the next scene and the next chapter until I at last reach the end.

  Thirty thousand words down; 65,000 or so to go. Wish me luck.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer, photographer, and filmmaker in Tacoma, WA. When not obsessing over his novel manuscript, he can be found on the Twitterverse. Watch his new short film, As Seen On TV, on YouTube or Facebook.

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• January 10, 2019

  The Birthday Resolutions Achieve Excellence

  

  Back in college, I read a lot of books by dead, old, Greek guys and I was surprised by how much their search for knowledge and meaning struck a chord with me. Aristotle in particular wrote that the highest achievement a human can reach is arête. This word is often translated as “excellence” or “moral virtue,” but my Classical Political Thought professor argued that a better translation was “reaching one’s potential.” To the ancient Greeks, living a life of significance wasn’t about being perfect, but about being the best person that you were capable of being.

  As I turn another year older, I’ve found myself thinking about how I am working toward my arête, my greatest potential. With that in mind, I’m channeling Aristotle today as I write my annual list of birthday resolutions. Here we go:

  Live in the Balance

  This past year has been insane. My wife and I bought a house, remodeled said house while living with my in-laws, traveled to eight states, drove 2,000 miles, and dealt with personal setbacks. 2018 was a year of extremes. My hope for 2019 is to find peace. There will still be projects to do and tumultuous storms to weather — there always are — but I would like to see smoother sailing this year, with fewer unexpected twists along the way. My hope is to take time to enjoy the little things and to make space for much needed rest after a year of constant activity.

  Run a 5K (for real)

  Last year, I finished a 5K and it felt pretty good. But I ended up walking a fair portion of the course and after the race, I stopped running. Now, months later, I’ve let the endurance I built up slip away. I’m increasingly aware that my physical fitness is well worth the investment of time and sweat. This year, I’d like to recommit to that goal with the intention of running again and this time, running the whole thing from start to finish.

  Carve Out Time to Write

  Two years ago, I set myself a goal to complete a novel manuscript by the time I turn 30. It’s been a difficult challenge. I spent a year not really knowing what I wanted to write, and last year, personal and professional upheavals made it impossible to create a regular writing routine. I have roughly 75,000 words to write and less than 365 days in which to get those words onto the page. This year, I need to get serious about my writing and carve out dedicated time to get the work done.

  Well, there you have it, my three step process for achieving my highest potential in the coming year. What are your resolutions and how do you keep yourself on track? Sound off in the comments!

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA. His recent short story, How to Steal Copper Wire, was recently reprinted in Grit City Magazine, Volume Two. You can find him on Twitter or hanging around with literary types in seedy libraries.

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• February 15, 2018

  The First Ten Thousand Words

  

  This year, I committed to writing a novel. This week, I crossed the ten thousand word mark. After months of working on my premise, dreaming about the plot, and writing dialogue in my head, it’s starting to feel real. So, I thought I would share how I’m feeling at various stages of the process.

  The first ten thousand words of a novel are a wild thing. You don’t know if it’s friendly or dangerous, predator or prey, but you can feel it breathing and you know that’s alive and beautiful. No one else has ever seen it before — you are the first to lay eyes on it. It is yours and yet still untamed, belonging to no one but itself. You find yourself drawn to it. You need to understand it.

  The first ten thousand words are the unwrapping of a package that’s secured with glue and tape and twine and layers of sturdy paper. Each layer reveals another layer you didn’t know existed and only slowly do you start to get glimpses beneath the brown paper at the glistening thing within. You want nothing more than to unwrap the whole thing now, but you know that it will be more rewarding to take your time and inspect each facet as it comes into view.

  The first ten thousand words are the planting of a flag on a desolate shore. Passersby scoff at you, but they can only see the sand. They cannot see the possibilities. They cannot see the city that you will build here. They cannot imagine how something so great can start out so humbly. You build a home on the desolate shore. Someday, it will seem small, but not today. Today, it is a palace.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA. His latest short story, The Disappeared, appears in Creative Colloquy Vol. 4, which you can find at King’s Books in Tacoma. Follow him on Twitter and subscribe to his monthly newsletter for exclusive content and recommended reads.
• November 18, 2017

  Wired for Story

  

  I don’t know about you, but I’m always writing stories in my head. A snippet of interesting conversation, an observation on the street, a song on the radio — my brain will wheel off on a creative tangent. I hear dialogue in restaurants. I imagine plot twists on my drive to and from the office. I don’t know what causes it, but I have always been wired for story.

  I’ve heard that sculptors can see the finished piece in a hunk of raw marble and that composers can hear melodies that don’t yet exist. I think a writer’s brain must work the same way, because whether I have time to address the thought or not (more often not), these stories ricochet around in the echo chamber of my mind all day, every day. I can’t help it and even if I could turn it off, I wouldn’t want to.

  It’s like having second sight. For everything that crosses my path, I can invent a backstory, a character or an entire fictional world from out of nowhere. I carry around a  notebook in a vain attempt to capture it, but 99% of the stories that flicker, unbidden, into existence escape me a moment later. Those that I do manage to hold onto for any length of time are often difficult to transcribe without losing some of their organic sheen. When I’m lucky, a story that I thought I’d lost will return and stay long enough to become tangible words on a page. Those are the ones worth waiting for.

  I don’t tell you this to make myself seem like I have a special ability. I don’t. I might pay more attention to it, but I think we’re all wired this way. It’s what sets humanity apart — our imagination. We all have the power to see or hear things that never were and make them real. But you do have to slow down to give it time to work. What are the moments that cause you to ask, “What if?” What would happen if you allowed yourself room to answer that question? That’s all that writers do differently. Anyone can do it.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle is a writer, photographer, and filmmaker in Tacoma, WA who has more stories whirling around his head than he knows what to do with. Follow him on Twitter and subscribe to his monthly newsletter for exclusive content and recommended reads.
• October 27, 2016

  A Writer and a Fraud

  

  This month, I put myself on the line. I dusted off the play that I wrote two years ago and started sending it to theatres and new play festivals around the country. Some of these programs are known for discovering brilliant playwrights that go on to fame, fortune, and accolades. And each time I hit send on a submission, I felt a little pang. Way back in the dark recesses of my soul, a little voice said, “They’re going to know you’re a fraud, you know.”

  I’m told that this is a common fear. It even has a fancy name coined by a pair of psychologists in the late-70s: Imposter Syndrome. It is especially common among high achievers — celebrities, athletes, CEOs, and writers at the top of their games. Even the great poet Maya Angelou once admitted, “I have written eleven books, but each time I think, ‘Uh oh, they’re going to find out now. I’ve run a game on everybody, and they’re going to find me out.’”

  Still, knowing that I’m in good company doesn’t make the feeling go away. In my cover letters that accompany my play, I explain my background and achievements as a short story writer and playwright, but what if my publications are just dumb luck?

  I grew up in the generation drowning in praise. A played several years of soccer as a kid and came home at the end of each season with progressively larger trophies. For years, those trophies played into a mistaken belief that I was actually good at soccer. It didn’t dawn on me until high school that they were participation trophies. So, you can’t blame me for being skeptical of my prowess as a writer. If I was a charlatan, would I realize it?

  And yet, that isn’t what worries me the most. If I can attribute my successes on the Imposter Syndrome, what’s stopping me from blaming it for my failures? What if someday I get a rejection and chalk it up to not being a real writer instead of learning from it and going back to rewrites?

  So, I’m training myself to believe that I am the real deal in victory and defeat. If a story gets published, it’s because I worked hard and made it the best I could. If I get rejected, it isn’t for lack of talent. And when I send a play out into the big, cold world of modern American drama, I’m still working on having the confidence to claim that I am the genuine article.

  — 30 —

  Jonny Eberle lives and writes in the City of Destiny. You can find him on Twitter or join the mailing list.