MAY I Share Last Month's Writing With You?

If that title doesn't drive down link clicks, I'm not sure what will.

Last month, 31% of everyone who received my newsletter clicked at least one link. In the world of online content creation (do we have to call it that?? who came up with “content creation?” ugh), that’s actually a not-half-bad ratio. But I’d love to see May do a little better than April, so please click my links and make my heart happy today.

Or, you know, delete this newsletter. That’s fine too. I can see a lot from my stats dashboard, but I can’t tell who throws this in their virtual recycle bin.

If you’ve been following along since last month, you MAY remember that I set myself a goal of writing 10,000 words of fiction in my current manuscript.

Well, it MAY not surprise you to learn that I didn’t meet that goal.

(Okay. Okay. Enough May jokes.)

10,000 words of fiction isn’t a ridiculous amount, but I only managed to do a little over half of that, and for about five minutes I felt like a failure.

But the reality of being a practicing writer is that a) everything I do now is practice, rehearsal, getting-ready for doing better and clearer and more skillful things someday, and b) that there are no rules or parameters set around How Many Words You Have To Write In Order To Be A Writer.

My toddler is napping less and going through a sleep regression at night. I’m back in summer class online (yes! still working on that English degree!), sewing things occasionally, and we’re spending as much time as we can outside. Writing is still happening, but not necessarily at the pace I think it ought to.

Letting myself fly free from what I think I should be doing is actually extremely freeing, though; especially since what I think I should be doing is often formed out of unnecessary guilt, unreasonably high standards, and an unrealistic expectation of productivity even when life isn’t cooperating.

I did write a good number of tweets though! Those count, right? I mean, it’s putting words I chose next to each other, onto a screen. That sounds like writing to me.

Motherhood! It’s not for the faint of heart. Or for the squeamish of cheek.

“More messing, more blessing” ought to be my household motto.

This is why battery-operated toys are not allowed ANYWHERE near the bathroom.

Some musings on one of my favorite childhood book series and the subliminal messaging about scarcity:

On that note, here’s what I actually did write in published form (not social media) in May:

Reasons I Would Like to Give When Asked Why My One-Year-Old Isn’t Talking Yet in The Belladonna Comedy

I was thrilled to have this humor piece accepted by The Belladonna and I’m delighted to say it’s now one of my top five most popular pieces of all time!

Superglue, Virginia Woolf, and Rejecting the Internal Editor

This self-published exercise was actually quite fun, and not nearly as weird and incoherent as I feared it might be. I probably won’t make this type of venture a regular habit, but it was fun to try.

If You’re Writing About Parenting, You Need a Bertrude in I Should Write This Stuff Down

There’s nothing like being one step ahead of the mommy police! This was one of the most fun concepts I’ve worked with lately, and I’m excited to incorporate Bertrude into future parenting pieces.

So… that’s it for May. And I’m cool with that! I wrote three short-ish pieces, I did a little bit of pitching to outside publications, and started some drafts, and life went on.

I MAY or MAY not be more prolific in June. At the very least I’ll stop being punny with the name of the month.

In conclusion, I will leave you with some words of affirmation, and hope that you will be back in July to see what I wrote in June.

P.S. And from the archives…

An essay from TWO years ago about placing your own personal indignation over other people’s suffering, and why that’s (obviously) not okay: I Used to Say, “All Lives Matter.” Here’s Why I Don’t Hide Behind That Excuse Anymore.

It seems May is the month for not getting very much done, because last year I wrote about Letting My Words Take a Beat in The Narrative Collective. The same mind thinks alike at the same time every year, I guess?

In May 2020, while pregnant with the baby who is now my wild toddler (!) I wrote a tongue-in-cheek list of name possibilities (none of which were actually used): Literary Names Under Consideration For My Firstborn Son for Jane Austen’s Wastebasket

And, nostalgically, I’m looking back on my very first piece for the now-shuttered P.S. I Love You, centered around memories of my Gumpop, who left us in May 2019: What My Grandfather Taught Me About Talking to Children.

Oh! And in case you missed it, here’s last month’s newsletter:

The April Recap of Scribblings and Strivings