Publication News

Oh, wow! Joe! I am so sorry it was such a tough year for you. I made the assumption something was going on as I had not heard back from you and didn’t want to badger you. I hope things are getting better for you and your wife.
I would love to hear what you think still when you read it at some point, if you get to it. The ending has changed a bit since your copy and a few other nuances, but it is still the same story.
The agent I sent it to in NY is not getting back to me yet so I am going to start shopping it to some others that I have identified. I really want to get this story out there!
Cuídate and I hope to see you around campus sometime.
K

Kirk! That’s so exciting that you’re in the submission stage for a dang NOVEL. Please keep us posted. What’s it about?

Hi, Nikita.
I don’t know if you (any of you) have found this to be true, but it is easy for me to discuss almost anything–except my writing. It’s when impostor syndrome quickly takes me by the throat. When someone asks what is my book about, I never know what say. It always comes out as sounding trite or somehow less than. I guess in one quick thought I would say it is about community and ostracization. But it’s also about trust and betrayal and the living and the dead, or those things unseen. And now you still you nothing about what my book is about. Ha! Here is the quick blurb I put together with my editor for the top query letter. It does it a little more justice.

“The Coffiner of Escondido” is a story of Lourdes Peña, a 19th-century Mexican artisan and clairvoyant living at the fringe of a small Mexican village. Her story is one of impossible love, crowded with desperate spectres and heart-stopping obras de arte. She builds and paints coffins for the living, and sometimes for the dead. Descended from a line of craftspeople and women with astonishing sight into the spirit world, Lourdes combines her talents to create exclusive coffins adorned with scenes revealed to her by spirits—her skill surpasses the Italian renaissance masters and is brushed through the lens of Mexican folk art. Lourdes, a pariah in her staunchly Catholic rural village, has long struggled for acceptance and a dignified life. She has few companions: her mother, a small dog, and a relentless suitor. She draws the lecherous eye of the local Padre, who lords over a brutal micro-theocracy, coveting her beauty while marking her sins, bringing a storm of trouble to her already cursed life.

I believe readers who have ever experienced marginalization—or even assault—based on their core differences, or have faced religious judgments, will find facets of themselves in Lourdes’ courage and extraordinary story. This novel should also appeal to those who relish tales of magic realism and mystery written within a rich and vibrant landscape and culture.

The story is set in 1887 in the fictional village of Escondido, with scenes extending into Mexico City. My love for the writings of Gabriel García Márquez, Isabel Allende, Pablo Neruda, and Luis Alberto Urrea have heavily inspired this book and the two additional novels on which I am currently working.

Thanks, Joe. That is good confirmation for me. On your first point, I had been uncomfortable with the same thing. I just did not like the tone of it and chalked it up to lack of marketing experience. I see this work as upmarket fiction or even literary fiction — definitely not commercial/genre fiction.
And your second point is well taken. Thanks for offering these. really helpful!
Gracias!

Thanks, Joe!

Excellent response to the question “what’s it about,” Kirk. I can relate because I have similar reactions when someone asks me what my story(ies) is about. I feel pretentious saying things like: It’s about the centuries old conflict between science and religion. Never thought of it as imposter syndrome, which, frankly, is a relatively new term for me—I first heard it in my classes at DU—but it describes exactly how I feel. I know we must summarize for query letters and I’m okay with that, but telling potential readers what the story’s about predisposes them to a specific meaning, in my opinion, and that’s what feels pretentious. I learned in my undergrad studies that people derive their own meaning from a narrative, and that’s what I hope for. I want people to read my work and derive their own meaning even if it’s something I didn’t intend. I’m sure there are writers out there who may be uncomfortable with that, writers who expect readers to “get” what their story is about. That’s why it was reassuring to read this interview with Percival Everett and learn I’m not the only one who feels as I do, though such an approach is not without its own concerns. Everett says, “The fact that I can turn a story or a novel loose and have no control over what it means is terrifying and thrilling.” I suppose for me the terrifying part is if a reader derives no meaning at all.

Good luck with your manuscript. I hope to see it in print soon.

Joe M.

Joe,
It’s beautiful! It’s a fantasy in the reality of the everyday. I love it. I didn’t know what a writing circle was either. LOL. But I joined it because another writer I respect and have followed on her blog for years invited me. Basically, a bunch of writers get together and the leader gives a prompt. Everyone writes on the prompt for a specific amount of time (10-15 minutes) and then those who want to, share. As someone shares, you write down words or phrases that strike you and repeat them back to the writer after they share. No comments. No judgements. Just the words. And then the next one shares and so on until it’s time to move to the next prompt. There was something very powerful about hearing your words repeated back to you without any commentary. And although we were using the Zoom chat to echo back the words, I really enjoyed the process. This circle has been running for years in person, but because they had to move to Zoom, I was able to join them. And they plan to continue in Zoom, so bonus for me.
I’m attaching my sestina in case you want to read it. I wish I knew where to think about submitting it.

Yes, please do. And I think your summary is spot on. And keep the word “unflinching.” This is one of my favorite words and it definitely applies to your style. Keep at it, Joe!

Thank you X 4, Kirk. I too am fond of the word unflinching–it sets the bar high because, depending on the topic, there may be a trade-off between unflinching and sensitivity, and finding the right blend is then the challenge of revision.

Hey Kirk,

No worries about response time, Kirk, as you can see mine is atrocious.
I am intrigued by the parallels here. We were in the same critique group in Novella class, and I recall critiquing the first draft of your story. One parallel is the novel I’m currently working on is also the same story I was working on in that class. Other parallels include a character who has the gift of visions and who is comfortable interacting with the spiritworld. As well, we both strive for authenticity in our work.

My story is about the relationship between a half Apache-half Latina apprentice shaman and a physicist who invents a device that makes travel between alternate realities possible. The story has locked up on me (George Saunders’ terminology) but is slowly unlocking itself every day—for which I am grateful. Though I’ve toyed with the story on and off over the past two years, I didn’t begin working on it in earnest until last fall when I decided to participate in NaNoWriMo at the last minute. I thank Nikita for putting the idea to participate in my head.

I wish you the best and hope you soon get positive news from a publisher.

Kirk, in my haste, I forgot to mention in the previous post that you critiqued the first draft of my story, Quantum Wave Surfer, in Novella class. I felt your critique identified some of the story’s strongest narrative and craft elements, so I copied it to a Word file and refer to it occasionally to help keep me on track.

These parallels you point out are interesting–fascinating actually. I am looking forward to reading it when you are all done and release it to the world. I remember reading your story well. I recall your unique style, your ability to immediately put some hooks into your reader, and the sense of urgency and tension you created in a very quick and literary fashion. You are a great writer, Joe. I am glad that my feedback was, and remains, helpful. Best of all in your writing and keep me posted!

Thank you so much, Kirk; I am humbled by the kindness and generosity of your words. And, it’s very encouraging to hear the story made an impression with you. I’m leaning toward submitting an excerpt to a publication called Strange Horizons for two reasons: I mentioned the story has locked up on me, so I’m hoping that if it’s published it will help break the lock completely; and I’m also hoping that getting it published will add to my credibility as an author when I query an agent.

Joe, I’d love to read your latest draft, if you have it!

I’d love to get your feedback on it, Nikita. There are some details I need to revise but I should have them completed in the next couple of days. I’ll post a copy as soon as I think it’s ready–he said with trepidation weighing heavily on his mind. It’s always tough to know when to let go; I think we had that discussion on this site last year, didn’t we?

We did, haha!

Feel free to send it to me as soon as it’s ready, and I’ll give you feedback :).

Hi Joe,

I hesitated posting this because I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject of “personal losses” without seeming intrusive, so I just want to say I hope all is well with you.

And, wow! A full-length book’s worth of poems from your early years—what a wonderful surprise. Bet it was fascinating to see the arc of your growth as a poet. I love what you say about your work in the author’s bio that your poems are “guided by expressive necessity rather than whatever literary theory happens to be ascendant at the moment.” You’re a rebel, Joe; I think that’s one of the reasons you and I get along so well—ha!

Hi Joe,

It seems the world is turning itself inside out, doesn’t it. In May, we lost an uncle and a brother-in-law. My Uncle Lee was, for me, mentor, confidante, and later, a drinking buddy. He was quite close to my father— without whom I grew up—but he didn’t take me under his wing out of a sense of obligation to my father; I believe our relationship evolved organically. My brother-in-law was younger than I, and his death reminded me of the family and friends who’ve passed just when it seemed their lives were beginning to peak. When I think of those folks, I’m sometimes gripped by survivor’s guilt—thoughts which seems to evoke the lyrics of a Lovin’ Spoonful song: “…and most of my good friends they are dead and gone/ and makes me worry, no need to wonder about the times to come….” Perhaps what we are experiencing is the pain a caterpillar feels as it metamorphosizes from one stage of existence to another.

Fascinating perspective, Joe: Hating your book, questioning your talent and craft, and then eventually feeling as if someone else wrote it. Yes, I know exactly the self-doubts and self-questioning you experience. In a peculiar sort of way, it’s somewhat reassuring to hear that an established author often feels as I do. Harlan Ellison once said he felt the best writing captures the universality of human experience, the same holds for conveying wisdom and experience, in my opinion.

I also watched the documentary about Miles Davis. While I can dig the notion of not repeating myself—even in my limited experience I’ve already caught myself repeating phrases—I’m not sure how tossing out one’s works helps. I think having them around would help prevent repetition because one can always refer to their earlier works if they suspect they’re repeating themselves.

My novel, Quantum Wave Surfer, is slowly unlocking itself and I keep chipping away at it. The wonderful thing is the more I learn about quantum mechanics and Native spirituality, the more unlocked the story becomes. As I said to Kirk, I’m seriously considering submitting an excerpt to Strange Horizons.

By the way, your comment, “I’ve entered that time of life,” had me wondering about its meaning, which led to my comment about caterpillars and metamorphosis. Maybe this isn’t what you had in mind but contemplating transformation in the context of life stages invited the attached poem.

Joe (M),

You may feel like your story’s locked up, but the poetry is flowing out of you! I love this piece and your tight attention to the way the shapes of both sounds and the poem itself play together.

I think that right now is a strange and painful return to who we all once were: cultures who looked death head-on. We’ve distanced ourselves from it and have spent decades evading the topic. Now that there’s a pandemic on stage, I feel like it’s everywhere we look. My husband’s older brother just got diagnosed with esophageal cancer and is only in his mid 30s, and my husband’s cello mentor also just got diagnosed. He’s never experienced the death of someone he was close to, and while it hasn’t come his way yet, I think he sees it. And it is a metamorphosis from one phase into the next. When we first started seeing each other, my dad died very abruptly and violently, and even back then I knew that it changed me way into my roots, and that one day everyone experiences that cataclysm.

It doesn’t make it suck any less. Maybe the whole point of life is to find our commonality? Maybe the pandemic is just teaching us to look at death again as a culture, and accept it in a way that eventually helps us develop healthier grieving practices?

I don’t know, maybe that last one’s the optimist in me.

Hey, Nikita,

I am so far behind on responding to you, where do I begin?

I appreciate your comments about my poems. I wrote in a previous discussion that inspiration is all around us and that I’m learning to recognize it. These two poems reflect my beliefs. “Logical Enigma” came to me while contemplating how some people twist logic and rationality to fit their opinions, which to me is ass-backward—logic should shape one’s opinions, not the other way around. I am so proud and excited about “Death as Metamorphosis” because it is my first purely metaphorical poem, that is, I wrote about death without mentioning it in the poem. This is a huge breakthrough for me. Up until now, as I once said to Professor Lambert, subtlety in poetry and prose had not been my forte, which is not to say I think I’ve become a master of subtlety and poetic metaphor; this is just a first step.

I was intrigued by your comment that your husband has never experienced the death of someone close to him. I often wonder what that must feel like, for it seems death has lurked in the shadows of my life beginning with the death of my Grandpa Menchaca when I was about four. But you’re right, familiarity doesn’t make it suck any less. Nonetheless, I experienced a paradigm shift in how I viewed death when my mother died almost forty years ago. She died not long after I’d dropped out of college and the lessons in physics were still fresh in my mind; her death was the moment science and spirituality converged for me. The first law of thermodynamics states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed, only its form can be changed. Life is an energy—I don’t think anyone will dispute that whether it’s said in a scientific or spiritual/religious context—so death cannot destroy life’s energy; therefore, death is a transformation (metamorphosis) from one form of energy/existence to another. The form of existence it assumes depends on one’s beliefs, and since my great-grandmother used to speak of the spiritworld as a real place, that’s where I believe hers, and Mom’s transformations manifested themselves. Same-same for all my other family and friends who have since passed.

If hoping we as a culture can change our perception of death makes you an optimist, I’m right there with you. I’ve seen some encouraging signs from Hospice. Four years ago, my little brother passed; toward the end, his ability to enunciate words diminished and it was difficult to understand him. A couple of hours before he passed, he sat bolt upright (he hadn’t been able to sit up on his own for a few weeks) and said as clearly and distinctly as when he was healthy, “Holy shit!” What could have made him do that, what did he see, family wanted to know. I’d read the booklet Hospice had given his wife and it said (I paraphrase) that as the end draws near, the person has one foot in this world and the other foot in the other side, and they may speak to someone there they recognize. I interpreted this statement along with my brother’s actions as a validation of my theories. “I’m guessing he saw Mom and Dad, our brother Adam, and probably a bunch of our other relatives,” I said. I envisioned they were holding a celebration welcoming him to the spiritworld. The point here is that Hospice acknowledged a dying person communicates with the spirits of departed loved ones, thereby, tacitly acknowledging the existence of spirits and the realm of existence they populate. It’s logical to ask whether those spirits exist only in the minds of the dying or if they truly populate a plane of existence outside of our own. That’s a conceptual bridge we need to cross in order to overcome the effects of the grieving industry.

Sorry this post is so long—who knew six lines of poetry could encompass such a strange theoretical framework comprised of oppositional cultural paradigms? —ha!

What in the world! I wrote a response here about a week ago, and I just circled back and saw it isn’t here anymore – maybe I typed it all up and never pressed send?

Darn. But, basically, what I said was that your relationship to physics and the death of your mother is a beautiful harmony, and one that I’m sure changed your spiritual relationship to yourself forever. I think a parent dying when you’re younger does that for some reason. They’re supposed to be these immortal mountains, and when they’re abruptly gone, it draws everything else up for scrutiny, too.

The death experience of your brother as well, seeing something in that final moment, is amazing. Something to look forward to, I guess. One of my dad’s favorite quotes was from Peter Pan, when Peter says, “To die will be an awfully big adventure.” Since my dad took his own life, I like to imagine that was his very last thought. And if anything, his death only made me more certain of that quote – and who knows what we see in that final moment?

While I hope to live to be 100, I also am looking forward to greeting that day with the same pa-zing I’ve greeted my twenties :).

Hey Nikita,

It’s not easy for me to share what I consider private and intimate details of my life especially about the passing of my mother and brother, as I imagine it is difficult for you to speak of your father’s passing. But I think of it as progress and growth as a writer that I was finally able to so.

I’m not familiar with the line from Peter Pan; it’s a wonderful quote. It reminds me of a saying the Japanese have about dying; they say that to die is to go home. It was one of the quotes I spoke to my brother right after he passed and I added, “May the spirits of our ancestors guide you home.”

Yes! The more I grow as a writer, the easier it is to speak to those moments and give them voice.

I’ve never heard that quote about dying being a way of going home, but I believe it. What a beautiful thing to say to your brother after he passed; I’m glad y’all got to share that, even if he had already left his body!

Jumping on this thread late. Life is so tenuous, and I guess there really is no point other than following things that bring us joy and trying to bring joy in other people’s lives. I’m sorry about your friend – that rapid turnaround has to be such a shock for you.

Everyone’s mania around their work manifests so differently! It’s interesting that you can’t stand it when it comes out. Maybe it’s like that part of you is finished. Miles Davis’ habits feel a bit extreme, but I guess it worked for him, right? Whatever gets us all from one moment to the next, feeling abundant about the way we plow forward – because I guess that’s all we can do, right?

I haven’t read the novel (yet), but just your input (Joe) makes me excited to see what you’ve cooked up, Kirk!

Thanks, Nikita. I’d be excited to show it to you. I hope it will not be much longer. [fingers crossed!]
How are your publishing efforts and your work coming along?
Take care and keep in touch!

Kirk,

When I saw what your book was about, I got extremely excited. I remember when you started fleshing out this idea; we were all captivated by it, and you.

As for me, things are pretty crazy, but they are finally settling down. The movie script is on the back burner for the month while I redo my YA novel. I went back to square one and fixed some issues that it had. Now that my wife and I are done with teaching for the year, I’m buckling down for the next two months.

The world-building is almost complete, and I have re-imagined several of the characters in a way that they fit better with the story. As they were, they didn’t quite fit with the plot, or the plot with them. I’m still hammering out a few details, but my goal is the have a finished draft of the new novel by August 1st. It will be a tall order, but I can make it happen.

What are you working on now?

Ah, you are remain the generous soul I remember. Good.

I am glad you are making a schedule and time to write–what talent you have! That worked well for me–having a writing time and sticking to it. Little by little.

I remember being so impressed with the complexity of the world you were creating. It seemed completely plausible.
Please keep me posted on your successes.

While I am waiting on comments from editor, I am working on some smaller pieces. I’ve had three essays published this year and trying for a fourth now. I just submitted another to seven different journals/magazines. I also had a mediocre-to-bad poem published (honestly, I have no idea how that happened). This whole publishing gig is a job of its own. I am also reworking a long essay; honing it down and reworking the narrative (Joe H., if you are reading this, it’s the Hemingway essay). When I go back and read my last version, I find it is full of unnecessary phrases, words, and other redundancies. The writing could be much better. Writing a novel has made me a better self-editor (I think?) I learned a lot about my own writing process and my own voice. I want to submit it to some writing contests and see how it does.

…and I’m also taking lots of notes for my next novel. I am chomping at the bit to get started, but I want to hold off until I have my current manuscript finalized and ready to send out and market. So I’m also reading a lot of southern gothic stories and novels: Flannery O’Connor, Capote, Faulkner, Carson McCullers, Thomas Wolfe, Poe, and trying to find others too I haven’t read. I think they will help create the mindset and spirit for this next book.

The only thing I am confident of is that I have no idea what I am doing.

Please keep in touch! I have a website set up at http://www.kirkcummins.com (I write under my mother’s surname).

Nikita,
I did read it. I am intrigued because I cannot decide if this is just the terrible grief we have when someone we love dies and we grasp at straws (strawberries?) desperately trying not to let go, or, if Lina just ended the relationship and she is in denial. Either way, it is compelling.

As far as simultaneous submissions, I get that it has to be okay, but how do you keep track of it?

Ohhh, I haven’t tried that feature on Submittable! I have to do some digging now to see what it’s all about.

Thanks, Kirk!

I know that whatever happens, it’s going to get accepted somewhere, and I can just move forward confident that I actually and genuinely gave this my very best shot.

Thank you, Nikita. I have the audio version, but probably just need to get myself a hard copy. I’ve heard great things about it.

Do so! It’s absolutely a revolution :). I feel like I’ve never been so creative in my entire life.

Joe,
Thank you. You just helped me give myself permission to save the 50 bucks I was debating using to renew my subscription to Duotrope. I’ll look into Submittable.

I’ve enjoyed Duotrope, but I think I’m taking a break from it myself and focusing on Submittable for awhile now too.

Wow! That’s great to hear! I’m so glad this formula has been working for you. It feels so good to get things out there and published :). How did you find your editor?

I actually found her through DU. She has been a tremendous help. I think it helps to find an editor that gets how you write as well. Not every editor will be good for you. Find one that you sync with!