The Summer of Health and Writing.
Here is a Letter from the Homestead recapping June. Inside: I bought a treadmill. I am writing a lot— it's a sparkling summer.
Emily Dickinson called her Amherst home “The Homestead.” I lovingly call my apartment in St. Louis the same thing (though 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.
The summer of health and writing is underway.
A treadmill. I bought one.
Maybe the more appropriate word is “walking pad” with a cute little standing desk? I had a grand vision that I would walk and write with the standing desk; instead, I am doing Taylor Swift karaoke in thirty-minute sessions. I feel powerful.
The summer days are long, and the treadmill is helping me catch a second wind. And the second wind is opening up whole evenings of writing.
I’m not usually very productive in the summertime. It’s hot. I’m tired. And I’m often busy with projects. But this summer, the floodgates are gushing. During the rehearsals and run of The Heidi Chronicles, I drafted an entire new play backstage. Now, I’m inching my way through a libretto for a mini-opera my friend and I are collaborating on. I have nothing but ideas. Nothing but energy.
I’m really turning my attention right now to a big project, one I’m hoping to finish by the end of this year…
If you’ve been reading this Substack for a while, you might remember that I wrote my first “serious” novel during the pandemic, queried agents for two years (whew!), finally got one (yay!), wrote another totally different novel (yay!), and have now been in the holding pattern of patiently waiting for my agent to (hopefully! please god!) sell my debut. She asked me to go ahead and write a sequel to my debut, and I’ve been diligently chipping away at it for the past year.
I’m halfway through a draft. It’s time to get serious and finish.
I’m putting this in writing here in my Substack because I think it might help me be more accountable. It is within my capabilities to finish a polished draft of a sequel by the end of this year— I know it is. I’m 50,000 good words into what I intend to be a 90,000 word draft. I have momentum, and I have a clear view of the rest of the story’s journey. I just have to ride to the end.
Wish me luck? And please, please, please light a candle or say a prayer that my debut sells? 🙏
In shifting back and forth between the mediums of playwriting and fiction, I’ve learned so much about the speeds of these two forms. Playwriting moves quickly— you have to lean into the interests of your collaborators while their energy is high. If you miss the tide of their interest, then your play may miss its window. That’s okay; that’s the nature of the form. Ephemeral. There and gone. Blink and you miss it.
Fiction moves slow. It’s slow to make and slow to share. It’s also slow for people to decide if they like it or not. The world may not want a book now, but they might want it in ten years. Or one hundred.
You shift between these mediums and you see how the work of writing lives in and out of time. And yet you, the writer, bound by time and the limits of your longing, can only do what you can do.
If my novels never do sell, at least I can make those plays. ❤️
What I’m reading this month…
Figuring by Maria Popova. A favorite book of mine. I’ve re-read this every year since the pandemic. Listening to it now as an audiobook as I fall asleep.
Full Circle by Janet Baker. Another book I re-read every year or so. It’s the diary mezzo-soprano Janet Baker kept during her last year of professional opera. It’s now out of print, but you can still find used copies.
Trying to Catch Lightning in a Jar: Letters from Prison by Patty Prewitt. This is my friend and colleague Patty Prewitt’s first book. It’s tremendous. Please purchase and write a review!
Yield: The Journal of an Artist by Anne Truitt. I guess I’m on a journal-reading kick this summer. These journals of the conceptual artist Anne Truitt are so thoughtful. I’d like to write a play that calls for a room full of her towering, simple sculptures.
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 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 June.
Teaching artist work for Prison Performing Arts. Teaching a weekly writing workshop on Zoom and teaching Spoken Word regularly for two men’s prisons.
Playwright’s fee for Frankenfathers, a newly commissioned play for PPA.
Paid Substack subscriptions. Thank you to all of my paid subscribers. It means the world to me you make a financial contribution to my work.
Fear no more the heat of the sun.
But please wear your sunscreen, stay in the shade, and stay hydrated.
Tonight starts a new month.
Yours,
Courtney (and Midge and Francis 🐈⬛ 🐈 )