Letters from the Homestead: December 2022
Taking a break that turned out not to be a break, deciding what worked this year, and a few end-of-year *writer stats.*
Emily Dickinson called her Amherst home “The Homestead.” I lovingly call my apartment in St. Louis the same thing (although I definitely get out more than Dickinson). This monthly newsletter is my attempt to work through what it feels like to put down roots as a writer in my own Homestead.
I tried to take a break that turned out not to be a break.
In early December, I declared that I would “take a break.” I’d go easy this December, moving at a moseying pace through the holiday parties and work tasks. I would take stock of the year, do the bare minimum, take a pause from my paid subscriber newsletter elements (new Salad Days and Secret Letters coming back in January!), and get a little more sleep.
It ended up being the busiest month of my year. Somehow, I managed to plan the opposite of what I needed, packing in extra day job work and setting unrealistic expectations for all my writing projects. Most mornings in December, I woke up with anxiety, furiously bullet-pointing all my to-do items with my eyes half open. I drank more venti iced coffees than advisable (they did not help), and I numbed my brain late at night with endless episodes of My Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding (this did help).
And then the holiday traveling did me in. On Christmas morning in Georgia, I didn’t wake up in my best friend Janet’s guest room until 10:30 am. I was just so dog tired.
I couldn’t get my head straight this month. Things were just too…blurry. Time was blurry. My expectations were blurry. My heart was blurry. I couldn’t nail down what I wanted or needed. Writing was so difficult. Thinking was difficult.
This is why I’m heading into the new year without resolutions. I have a few “things I think I might do,” but no firm resolutions: get up earlier, take more walks, eat less meat, do some decluttering. Nothing grand.
December is a hard month for many people. I hope it was kind to you. And, if not, I hope kindness is on the way.
What worked for me this year.
Boundaries. I set some new boundaries this year: no more drinking, less time on social media, not responding to emails immediately, etc. I also confirmed some ones from last year: I prefer to live alone. Living alone is the best option for my mental and emotional health. Boundaries are things that I control—not mandates/expectations that I put on others. Reminding myself of this has been so essential for my mental health this year.
My public library. I broke up with my Amazon book-buying addiction and replaced it with taking advantage of my library’s hold system. My local library is a two-block walk from my apartment, and it’s the best thing ever to just put books on hold on the internet and then go pick them up a day or two later. Magic.
Making art for my immediate community. This is what I believe about making art: you make gifts for your community. A gift is meant to bring delight and asks for nothing in return. No market aspirations here, just grace.
Volunteering. Sometimes, it’s hard to get up on Friday mornings and go to Planned Parenthood to clinic escort, but I believe it’s the most important two hours of my week. It felt especially meaningful this summer: I was in front of the clinic the moment the news broke of Roe’s fall. (I’ll never forget that moment, not for the rest of my life.) This year, I also started volunteering with an abortion access text helpline for Missourians. Abortion is now illegal in Missouri, so this helpline assists Missourians in finding abortion care in Illinois or Kansas (our border states where abortion remains legal).
Constantly mixing up my personal writing practice. I go through seasons with what works for me writing-wise. And, believe me, I’ve tried all the routines: morning pages, writing while walking, writing in coffee shops, dictation, writing drunk, writing sober, writing at 5am, writing outside… I’ve done it all. I’ve discovered that you really just have to go with the flow to determine which practice works best for you at whatever moment. The only thing that matters is whether you are writing, not how you go about it.
A handful of nifty tools: a trapper-keeper purse, my Freewrite, bulk bird seed, a jumpsuit. The “field journal” was a birthday gift to myself. The Freewrite is nerdy and perfect and helps me write many, many words. The bulk bird seed is useful for maintaining my role as the chief supplier to the wild birds (and at least one squirrel family) of McDonald Ave. And the jumpsuit looked baller.
Yearly Writer Stats for 2022 ✍️
Here is a very unscientific list of stats related to my writing work. I was hesitant to do this because so much of being a writer involves not getting hung up on numbers, but writing all of this out was surprisingly encouraging. I’ve worked so hard to remake my life from full-time English professor to freelance writer. This list helped me remember that I am indeed showing up as a writer, and that’s something to relish.
Plays written: 4
The Golden Record: compiled and written with material from Prison Performing Arts. Going up at the end of January in St. Louis!
The Pavement Kingdom: a clinic escort play: I finally sat down and wrote a play about my experience volunteering as a clinic escort for the past two years with Planned Parenthood. My first-ever play for one actor.
The Society of Dream Interpreters: Another play for Prison Performing Arts based on writing from incarcerated artists.
Margaret Fuller Magick Show: This is the second in my triptych of “scribbling women” plays. It’s very weird and includes a giant sea worm. (The third and final play in the triptych will be Emily Dickinson Funeral Home.)
Plays produced: 2
JENNY’S IN HELL: a phone play (produced as an audio drama with City Lights Theater Company in San Jose, CA)
And, of course, Brontë Sister House Party with SATE. (We’ve made some best-of lists!) What a year.
Plays commissioned: 4
Three (!) adaptations with Prison Performing Arts: The Golden Record (for PPA Alumni Theatre Company), The Society of Dream Interpreters (Missouri Eastern Correctional Center), and The Caverns of Wingwood (Northeast Correctional Center)
The writing of Margaret Fuller Magick Show was supported fully thanks to a Regional Arts Commission grant.
Residency/Fellowship Applications Submitted: Maybe 10?
I lose track of these really quickly. This makes it easier since my acceptance rate is pretty low. Some fancy rejection highlights: MacDowell, Anderson Center, Hedgebrook, Brontë House writer-in-residence, Watermill Center, Playwrights’ Center, Nashville Rep, and probably many more!
Residency/Fellowship Acceptances: 2 1/2
Thank you kindly to the Regional Arts Commission for their Individual Artist Support Grant, which gave me all of October to write Margaret Fuller Magick Show.
Was grateful to nab a spot as a Feminism is for Everybody (F.I.F.E.) Fellow with Bechdel Project, a playwriting organization based in New York City. I’ll head out there in February for a retreat. The funniest part of this is that, as a FIFE Fellow, I have free access to a gorgeous co-working/rehearsal space in Brooklyn—and I live in St. Louis. 🤷♀️
I did manage to get on the waitlist for this summer at the Ragdale Artist Residency, but we’ll have to wait and see on that one.
Fiction words written (not counting romance novel writing): 60,000 words
I’d hoped to write a lot more of this second novel project, but things take the time they take. I’m praying that I see the end of this manuscript draft by February.
Freelance writing:
Romance novel gig words written: 140,000 words (four short novels/novellas)
Other contract writing (academic/technical): 38,000 words
Queries sent for my science fiction novel: 30
All but three of these ended in rejections or no response. What a time to be alive! I tell you what, when I finally get a deal for this novel and throw myself a party, I will print out all of these rejections and make a banner that hangs over the snack table.
Full/partial manuscript requests: 6
Half of those ended in rejections, but half are still up in the air (see the “all but three” above). Fingers crossed that 2023 is the year I sign with a literary agent.
*Midge the cat would like me to remind you that she was present for all of this work and takes home 100% of the profits to support her luxurious lifestyle.
What I’m reading this month…
Novelist as a Vocation by Haruki Murakami. This was a much welcome gift from my friend Evangeline, and I’ve been devouring it. It’s a novelist on novel-writing, and it’s filling me up with enthusiasm going into the new year of writing.
The Habit of Being: Letters of Flannery O’Connor, edited by Sally Fitzgerald. I dip in and out of this book pretty regularly. I’m sure I’ve listed it on this newsletter before. O’Connor is weird and honest and not at all pious. I love reading the bits about her peacocks or the gripes of her “parent” (Regina O’Connor, her mother).
Official Soccer Rules Illustrated by Stanley Lover. I received an STL CITY soccer team scarf for Christmas and now I am a fan of the sports. Thus, I am learning the rules of the game I will now be a fan of.
How I made money this month $$$
I believe freelance artists should be more upfront about how they support themselves financially, rather than maintaining the illusion that they are fully supported by their art (they usually aren’t). This is me attempting to live out that principle. So, here are all the ways I brought in money to the Homestead for the month of December.
Audiobook narration. I’m trying to phase out of working as an audiobook narrator. The pay is good and the work is certainly theatre-adjacent, but it’s hard to be cooped up in a closet recording for hours on end. I picked up one job this month and I’m glad it was only one.
Academic/technical writing for an education company. This month, I finished a gig writing a graduate course on literary analysis for a company I’ve worked with before. (Interesting factoid about pay rates: this type of writings pays three times what romance writing pays.)
Facilitating online graduate literature courses. Still grading at least four Jane Eyre essays per week!
Teaching artist work for Prison Performing Arts. Building writing prompts for incarcerated artists, facilitating a writing workshop, and rehearsing for The Golden Record (which goes up in January).
Staged reading/workshop for a playwriting friend. These are the best kinds of gigs. Thank you, Evangeline, for letting me be a part of With Love, Sarah!
Substack paid subscriptions. Thank you so much to all my paid subscribers. So grateful for your support of my work. 💜
You don’t have to make any resolutions.
You really don’t. Instead of resolutions, you can say, “Yeah, here are some things I think I might do…” I have enough on my plate already. I suspect you do, too.
Tonight starts a new year.
Yours ever & etc., etc.,
Courtney, Mistress of the Homestead, and Noble Midge the Cat. 🐈⬛
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