I’m taking a social media break for the month of January (we’ll see how well that goes!) In the meantime, I wish all of you a healthy, happy, and peaceful 2023! If you’d like to reach out to me personally, please contact me at julia@justscribbling.com; for any inquiries regarding the MoCo Underground Writers Showcase, please email mocounderground@gmail.com.
Category Archives: All Things Writing
Deliverables
I recently had the honor to be named the 2021 Nancy Zafris Short Story Fellow, a precious gift that granted me a ten-day writing retreat at Porches to work on my current collection, Reliance. Those of you who are writers, and more specifically, those who have had the great good fortune to visit Porches, will immediately grasp the generosity of that gift. But for those of you who are not writers and perhaps have no idea what a writer actually does during a writing retreat, I hope you’ll find my summary of my recent experience by way of, to use a business term, “deliverables,” illuminating, both in terms of what I was able to accomplish as well as what a transformational creative experience my retreat was. During my 10 days, I:
Wrote an 850-word book review! (For the wrong book, but that’s beside the point.)
Finished reading the last 130 pages of Here’s the Deal by Ross Miller.
Read the entire July/August issue of Poets & Writers, 120 pages, in one fell swoop. And I mean that swoop was fell.
Submitted two older stories to journals.
Finished polishing my story “Needlework.”
Read all 304 pages of Nancy Zafris’s book The Metal Shredders, where I first got to know the character of Don Capachi.
Wrote a short poem inspired by Nancy Zafris’s book The Metal Shredders.
Wrote a brand-new 2,200 word story, “Maggie & Charlie.”
Read all 320 pages of Satan Is Real: The Ballad of the Louvin Brothers by Charlie Louvin with Benjamin Whitmer, which was not at all the book I thought it was going to be, and which also reminded me of the old adage, “You can’t judge a book by its cover,” 100% true in this case. However, having said that, if it hadn’t been for this book’s absolutely bonkers cover, I likely never would have picked it up as I did at Blue Moon Antiques & Book shop, and it is a damned fine book, one of my favorite reads in years.
Finished polishing my “Maggie & Charlie” story.
Finished reading the last 200 pages of Go Tell It on the Mountain by James Baldwin.
Wrote another brand-new 3,000-word story, “This Might Hurt A Bit.”
Started reading The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson; got to around page 340 of its 647 total pages.
Took 233 pictures/videos on my phone.
Read all 177 pages of Nancy Zafris’s collection The Home Jar, which knocked my ever-lovin’ socks off. That llama farm? Holy crap! And to end it with that beautiful reunion with Don Capachi? Oh. An absolute joy to read.
Drew 3 new pictures, which is 3 more than I’ve drawn in decades.
Entered into a spreadsheet 250 names/titles & suite numbers from an image I found online of a 1900s-era Reliance Building directory, so that I can edit it and use it in funky ways in my Reliance collection.
Took the work I’ve completed on Reliance to date and began assembling it as the collection I’ve envisioned for 16 years now; wept to see it looking like a “real” book.
Completed roughly 12–15 hours total of new research, in which I learned for the first time about Henry “The Midget Bandit” Fernekes, a mind-bogglingly fascinating and oddly underappreciated crook who’s received far less attention historically than he should have, thanks to being overshadowed by Capone.
Wrote 45 pages in my journal, which is 42 journal pages more than I’ve written in the past 6 months.
Started reading two additional books, but because they were borrowed, I’m waiting now for my own copies to arrive so I can keep reading them: My Sister’s Hand in Mine: The Collected Works of Jane Bowles (with an introduction by Truman Capote) and The Habit of Being: Letters of Flannery O’Connor.
Not as concretely deliverable, per se, but of no less importance, I also: made six new friends; let two turtles cross the road to safety in front of my stopped car; enjoyed almost daily the best fried chicken I have ever eaten; sampled chocolate from Madagascar and rum from Haiti, unexpected gifts from one of my new friends; watched the sun and the moon rise; explored an antiques mall; met two dogs, one of whom liked me, the other of whom was utterly indifferent to my presence; wept and belly-laughed in turn at the astonishing stories of some of the smartest, ballsiest, funniest women I’ve ever met; witnessed how fireflies turn into stars in the tall, tall treetops; learned that I don’t care for red blend wines “with a raspberry finish”; watched two hummingbirds fight over a single feeder; explored a tiny graveyard; saw a double rainbow after a storm; spent approximately 20 hours rocking on a wide, comforting porch; got lost and found my way home again; mourned a dead lizard and welcomed meeting a live one; climbed 26 creaking wooden stairs approximately 8 times a day for 10 days; made and consumed roughly 500 ice cubes the “old-fashioned way”; listened to a donkey braying and a rooster crowing; got down on my knees and prayed in a tender, old, empty church; and felt an unseen hand clasp my ankle and hold it, ever so gently, my last night in the otherwise empty bedroom on the third floor of a very wise and very welcoming house.
So there you have it, an exhaustive (though by no means complete) list of “how I spent my writing retreat” this summer. I am utterly indebted both to “Saint Trudy,” Porches founder, and to Nancy Zafris, for thinking enough of my work to give me those 10 days, and I am excited to continue working on my collection; I hope they’ll someday find it was a worthy investment.
Furious Gravity
The news cycle since my last post has been so fast and furious, it’s been difficult to find the mental space to try to write anything new lately. That’s why I’m so happy that something else furious is about to explode into the world now: a brand-spanking-new anthology, Furious Gravity, set to launch next month. There will be a virtual launch event through Politics and Prose bookstore on May 10 at 3:00 PM ET. Want to join us? Register here!
“Furious Gravity is the long-awaited ninth volume of the “Grace and Gravity” series, a literary journal devoted to women writers in the DC region. This volume will be the second edited by Melissa Scholes Young, a DC writer and associate professor at American University, who has taken over from founder Richard Peabody (Gargoyle and Paycock Press). Scholes Young delivers a gorgeous and vivid volume of fifty vibrant voices. Her vision for the ninth volume is a platform in which women write about the gravitational forces that bind them together or push them apart. Fury is useful fuel as they respond to a world they wish was more just. Amidst the darkness provided in generous and unrelenting doses by the current political climate, this collection delivers a compilation of stories and essays with undeniable pull – and, of course, grace.”
And for some miraculous reason, they’ve decided to include my short story, “Control,” in this collection! I am beyond grateful and excited–I’m actually careening straight into Sally Field territory. I’m so humbled to be considered part of this community of fierce, brilliant, passionate women writers. It feels just about as unreal to me as our continuing quarantine does at times, so I can’t wait–CANNOT WAIT–to get my hot, little, disbelieving hands on my copy, just to prove to myself that yes, it’s real, this is really happening.
Many thanks to our editor, Melissa Scholes Young, for making this beautiful collection a reality. You are a bright, furious star to so many of us; I’m utterly beholden to you for your faith in my work.
WATCH THE FURIOUS GRAVITY TRAILER HERE
REGISTER TO ATTEND THE FURIOUS GRAVITY (VIRTUAL) LAUNCH PARTY HERE
MoCo Underground Reading Series: The Start of Something Beautiful
it’s hard to believe, but we had our final reading for 2019 last month, and I’m already making plans for 2020’s readings! I have been humbled by the talent and gifts each of the beautiful writers who joined us this inaugural year brought: their wit and humor, their courage and honesty, their passion and generosity are boundless, and it was a joy to welcome each of them.
My goal for 2020 is to grow a little bigger with each reading, so if you haven’t joined us yet, as a writer or as an audience member, I hope you’ll take a look at the 2020 dates and make some time to come out and show the writers in our community some love–I can promise, you won’t regret it. If you have already joined us, I hope to see you again soon.
Wishing all of you peace and love and purpose in 2020!
#MoCoUnderground #holdyourlighthigh #welovewriters
Review: The “Grow a Book” Residency
Normally, I write reviews of books, but because I recently completed my first residency ever, Melissa Scholes Young’s “Grow a Book,” I’m taking a break from book reviews to share that experience with you instead.
I’d been thinking about doing a residency for a while, but I couldn’t find one that seemed like a good fit. I craved dedicated solitude, but I also worried that too much solitude might result in a personal re-enactment of The Shining—or worse, a total lack of productivity. I wanted access to the expertise and feedback of a talented instructor, but worried about a residency scheduled to the nines.
I adore nature, but many of the more “rustic” residencies seemed a little too primitive: no hunter-gatherer is this writer; I like my modern conveniences. I wanted to get away from the round-the-clock mental and emotional labor of being a wife and mother and do nothing but be a writer for a few days, but I also didn’t want to have to deal with someone who didn’t understand how difficult a task that would be for me.
I knew I needed at least a few days, but taking a week or two, or even a month, was completely out of the question for me, as was the possibility of traveling to foreign locales. (Someday…)
Enter the Grow a Book residency. The brainchild of author (Flood) and American University’s Associate Professor of College Writing and Creative Writing Melissa Scholes Young, this compact (3 days, 2 nights) highly-customizable residency was exactly the experience I’d been seeking.
My initial phone consultation with Melissa was warm, inspiring, and thoughtful—it really helped me lay out my goals for the residency. Her manuscript evaluation, which was completed between the phone consultation and the residency itself, was incredibly thorough, detailed, and insightful; her edits, questions, and comments were concise and clear and set a concrete path forward.
Melissa’s studio itself is situated in a prime location in downtown Rockville, Maryland, features an expansive, beautiful view and all-modern conveniences, and sits within a two-minute walk of every possible convenience one could crave: Starbucks, Panera, a cute little wine shop, restaurants, and more.
But even with its proximity to downtown, it’s as quiet and still as a library inside, and very conducive to a state of unbroken concentration. The studio does not have WiFi, which I thought would grate on me, but that removed online temptations, and when I did need WiFi, the gorgeous club at the top of the building offered another quiet space.
I would work in total silence and solitude for a few hours, then take a break to grab a bite to eat, or head up to the club to log in to my email, etc. I usually ordered my meals To-Go and brought them back to the studio, which provided just enough human contact to keep me sane. The studio was, for me, the perfect blend of solitary retreat and friendly, semi-urban pad.
Once Melissa left for the weekend, she left, unless I specifically contacted her. When I did send her questions, requests for feedback, uncertainties regarding a particular passage in my manuscript, etc., her replies were uniformly quick, thoughtful, thorough, respectful, and encouraging.
One of the other things I really loved about this residency was Melissa’s painstaking attention to detail. She has stocked her studio with every imaginable bit of writer-centric comfort, care, and, dare I say it, pampering: a little bag of welcome goodies; a Virginia Woolf prayer candle; current issues of The Writer’s Chronicle and Poets & Writers waiting on a perfect little writing desk; a phone-charger and a bathroom drawer full of toiletries, in case I forgot mine; take-out menus from local restaurants and a fully-stocked coffee corner in the kitchen; a ridiculously comfy chair and ottoman with a cozy throw and a space heater in the closet, just in case (I happened to be there one cold, rainy day, and that sure helped). Every time I found myself briefly distracted by “Gee, I wish I had remembered to bring ___,” I’d peek around the studio and find the needed object already waiting.
These may seem like insignificant details to some, but for me, the net effect of all this care and attention was that I felt, as a writer, for the first time in my life, completely understood, seen, and cherished in my work, and that feeling created some of the most productive days of my writing life. I didn’t have to worry about a thing but my work—and I didn’t.
Over my three days and two nights, I worked through all 281 pages of my second manuscript revision, crafted a working synopsis, drafted an elevator pitch, and left on my final day with a detailed plan for the next steps in my revision process. At every step of the way, Melissa gave me specific, clear insights and feedback on my work, whenever I asked for it; when I didn’t ask, she discreetly vanished, giving me the physical space and emotional support to do the difficult and important creative work I was there to do.
If, like me, you’re looking for a shorter, highly individualized, and incredibly supportive residency that focuses entirely on what works for you, then get thee to http://www.melissascholesyoung.com/grow-a-book.html lickety-split, because I know I’ll be booking another session again soon.