Imperfect Dispatch extendo

In which we we explore interiority; compare sex work and writing; and discuss bananas, kind of, with author Claire Ross Dunn—my first podcast guest.

If you found your way here via my first Imperfect Dispatch Substack post in two years, welcome to my own imperfection—I hope it offers some validation to your own procrastination. :) And if you stumbled here following your own path, congrats on your great navigation skills, and welcome.

Reinvention is key in this world, particularly as the big fish of AI gobbles up so many careers. B’bye to my generalized work in content creation, copywriting, graphic design, and marketing consultation. And, logically, hello… fiction writing? Working on the second draft of my first novel, and a number of other projects, I’m learning a LOT about writing. Merging that with my marketing and promotion knowledge, and graphic design skills, I’m now reimagined as, ta da, Imperfect communications and design for writers. It’s like I finally found shoes that really fit and look great too. And go with any outfit. (Which is almost always a button-down shirt and jeans, so.) Are you writing? I want to hear about it. Let's talk.

Interiority. Not just a tongue-twisting word broadcasters should use as a warm-up; it’s also an essential and easily-overlooked component of writing.

When I optimistically sent out the first draft of my first novel for beta reading, I was stunned by the feedback about the protagonist, Ivy Lean—a lippy, sexy, damaged singer. No one liked her. (OUCH!) Ivy, the funny, cheeky, sexy pal I’ve spent a year inventing and hanging with. How could this be?

Now I know: I wrote her courage, not her fears; skipped over her biases and beliefs; assumed readers would just ‘get’ her, without the subtleties. She’s not a subtle person, so. But I reread an article about interiority, and had an AHA moment. I spent two co-writing sessions developing and exploring the following questions about each of my characters, and in doing so felt like I was walking and talking with them, maybe even being their therapist. I answered these questions for the book’s good guy, and then walked the dogs listening to the playlist I’ve made for his character. He was so alive and present that I sent myself several emails from the park, and wrote notes on anything I could find when I got home.

The interiority questions, for each character:

What is their greatest fear?

What are their fundamental beliefs/philosophies?

What are their prejudices and biases?

What are their strongest instincts?

What are the things they notice first in others?

I’ll share some more questions I use for the development each character in another dispatch.

I also found it helpful and fun to create a playlist for each character. The website Every Noise at Once is really helpful for that—and comes with a very serious rabbit-hole warning.

I listened to, and then, so compelled was I, watched the interview Elamin Abdelmahmoud did with three sex workers on CBC radio’s Commotion. My immediate thought was that I want to write a character who is a sex worker—which, of course, is a disrespectful appropriation of voice. So, no. I’m hoping I can instead write with a sex worker, or a piece about sex workers, centring their voices.

Also plotting writing workshops with sex workers (among other folks), once I’ve completed the Amherst Writers and Artists facilitator training at the end of this month. (Super-excited about the training and what I'm planning to explore with the accreditation. Watch this space for more.)

The parallels between sex work and writing struck me. Stick with me here—and know that I recognize I’m writing this from a place of privilege. Try banking as a writer: are you getting approved for a mortgage? Telling people you’re a writer: the looks you get are... interesting. Marketing yourself as a writer. Submitting your work to various publications, and keeping track of it all. Maintaining social media accounts and growing your following. Researching, tracking and pitching agents and publishers. Like sex work, writing is a one-person full-time business. Time for an OnlyFans for writers? Maybe that’s what Substack is.

CO-WRITING. Which we write with a hyphen, please, because otherwise accessibility readers say, “cow-righting.” Which it seems would be a very different thing altogether.

I reached out to childhood friend and published author Claire Dunn (pre-order her second novel, Lost In France, here) almost two years ago to ask her what she recommended for starting up a fiction writing practice. I expected course recommendations, some websites and social media accounts, yadda yadda. Claire’s response was a single (life-changing) reco: Pyjama Writing, hosted by the warm and sharp Sue Reynolds. I have drunk the dawn-coloured Kool-Aid, and not missed a single session with the group since I signed up.

(See above, re first novel. These early morning weekday Zooms with dozens of supportive writerly folk have also netted me another novel-in-progress, a work of linked short stories, a tv series outline, and the proverbial more.)

In fact, I'm so sold on the concept I adopted it: Imperfect co-writing takes place every weekday morning from 9:30–10:30 am Eastern. It's free, you can drop in anytime, you just just need to register here to get the link.

Also: news.

Having decided I'd like to pop a little video interest into my Substack, I asked Claire if she'd jump on a Zoom with me to talk about marketing and writing and... well, it wound up being about bananas, too. The social media kind.

We did a 15-minute interview—and then I realized I had forgotten to press 'record.' Oopsie! So we talked—recording on—for another half hour, and yet another half hour after I stopped the recording. As Claire signed off, she said, "Good luck with your podcast!" Which was the moment when I realized I had just joined the legions (and legions) of podcasters. If all the episodes are as fun and interesting as this one with Claire, I'm fully okay with that.

Sign up for Claire’s newsletter here.

Sign up for her Knitting Pilgrim husband Kirk Dunn’s newsletter here.

Sign up for Sue’s Reynolds' newsletter here.

If you’re looking to publish essays, Andrea Tate’s Substack, I’ll Show You, provides loads of support and info.

Here's a fun and useful brand consistency guide from Megan Kranzler of Olive Ridley Studios. (Megan often joins us to write her newsletters and blog posts.)

If you're in Ontario and would like to take a poetic walk, join prairie poet Desiree Penner for a stroll-and-write as she enjoys her residency in the Al Purdy cottage, in Prince Edward County. And if you can't make it to that—and even if you can—I can't swoon enough over her poetry.

From a recent Craft Talk writing webinar: The five questions your book pitch should answer (preferably in 100 words or less):

1. What is your book (genre)?

2. Who is the main character?

3. What is the problem they face?

4. What is the force driving them?

5. What goes wrong if they fail?

Whether or not you’re ready to pitch, this kind of summary can really help you focus your work.

This quote, from Beckett via co-writer Norm Reynolds, is almost always true; and the rock is from the quarry in Wainfleet where Sue Reynolds and I walked, speedily, and talked, comfortably.

Update me, tell me, show me!

Yes, you are already great. And so is Miniscule. Check them out: listen loud and often. https://minusculemusic.com/