Taking Stock

Posted on by Kim

I’m taking stock because I think maybe I’ve written more than I realized this year. I see all the literary newsletters featuring all the new writing people have been doing during the pandemic, and I think, Oh, I need to be doing more writing. But wait a minute. I have been writing. What I haven’t been doing is submitting much of my work. Even so, I’ve had two pieces published. I’ve been lamenting the fact that I spend so much time not writing, but I’ve been workshopping with several really great workshop leaders, and I’ve written for a few contests. So, how much have I actually written this year?

Before I give you the list, I should also add that I’ve compiled my mother’s writing into a memoir. (I won’t tell you about the 13 books I’ve produced for other people through Madville Publishing–with the help of Jacqui Davis and a whole team of editors. Let’s call that my day job.)

What have I written in 2020?

Edit: I completed this list and count 35 new pieces… Only two published to date, but lots of halfway decent material to mold and polish.

Workshops & Contests:

  • Tell Us a Story—with Siobhan Wright (January—May)
    • James, Maybe
    • Whatever became of Mr. J.?
    • Masks
    • Skydiving
    • A Tiny Spur
    • Incident at the Lightning M
    • A Grey Horse with Spots and a Flax Mane and Tail (file name Truth)
    • Memories in the Packing Materials
    • Sleeping Sickness
    • Final Acts
    • Becoming
    • The Detective
    • Prepubescent Only Child Angst
    • Becoming Nobody
    • Stage Fright (in 53 words)
  • Writers Weekly 24-Hour Contest, but not submitted (April)
    • The Eye of the Beholder
  • Jen Knox through Gemini Ink (July)
    • The Cowgirl and the Pilot
  • Jodi Angel Workshops (August-January ’21)
    • The Cistern
    • Agents of Change (for THE LIBRARY)
    • Blastoff—Touchdown
    • Floating Wellie Boots
    • Long Time No See
    • DNA and Dogs
    • Nanny’s Stories
    • Playear (novel for NaNoWriMo—working title)
    • The Possum Run
    • Why Did We Even Leave Florida
    • Just Like Young Goodman Brown