Michelle L. Smith - The Ebony Quill, LLC

Mirriam-Webster defines muse as a "source of inspiration," citing the example of a writer's beloved wife. I concur. While others think of their muse as an animate object, however, I tend to regard mine as intangible.

 

I recently posted on Instagram that I'd traveled to the Monterey Peninsula (Steinbeck country) and was awestruck by the magnitude of its raw coastal beauty. I commented that this stunning slice of natural splendor was sure to stoke my muse. And then I reflected upon what I really meant. Those squawking harbor seals and flirtatious seagulls didn't exactly provide new fodder for writing. I simply relished the ambience and enjoyed being in the moment.

 

I think of my muse as something metaphysical that I cannot name, smell, or see. Nor can I conjure it at a moment's notice. It strikes when it wants. Fortunately, my brain is in a perpetual state of percolation, filled with a myriad of thoughts (not good when I need focus for the task at hand). While I usually don't lack ideas for writing projects, my issue is more about corralling those thoughts into the distillate of a singular project. It's the act of putting pen to paper that needs a jolt from time to time.

 

Nothing jazzes me up more than reading another writer's work, especially if it belongs to one of the genres I tackle. The idea of an author's ruminations, emotions, and sensitivities (all nontactile stuff) informing the production of an inanimate but tangible book readily conjures my muse.

 

Admittedly, this blog post may not be one of my more fascinating reads; however, it came about after I struggled to summon my muse. Though I'd considered other topics, I just wasn't feeling them. Instead—in what might seem like a circular move—I called upon my lack of motivation to beckon my muse.

 

Some famous artists of yesteryear relied upon paramours to inspire their next great masterpiece, seemingly beholden to their human sources of inspiration and, thereby, rendered susceptible to inertia without them. Whether or not I've inspired you to go back to your workspace and put some words down, being at an impasse is nothing more than a temporary state of mind when it comes to the act of writing. An impasse wouldn't be a roadblock if there wasn't something on the other side worth seeking.

 

So, if you're feeling stuck, step back and reassess the direction you want to go. Then, when you're ready, get on with it!

I'm fortunate to have had several works from different genres find a home in reputable literary journals and anthologies; however, getting my writing published is no small feat. As the accompanying image indicates, I received notice last month that my personal essay earned a spot in the July 2025 issue of The Sun, a highly respected ad-free literary magazine that's been around for decades. While statistics vary, my research shows fewer than 0.4% of submissions make it past The Sun's rigorous vetting and editing stages.

 

With all the rejections I receive, seeing a work get published is cause to celebrate. Given that this is my second piece placed with The Sun, I've learned to accept that I'm a pretty decent writer, though it's not unusual for me to frantically polish a submission to meet a pending deadline, only to end up tweaking it when I come across another suitable submission venue. This additional round of tweaking sometimes causes me to cringe at having submitted the prior version.

 

This revision business is never-ending. Even when I think I've written a fantastic piece, the passage of time provides me with eyes fresh enough to find yet more to tweak. Poems are surprisingly onerous to revise, as every word and line must be as concise and impactful as possible. Determining the correct tense of an individual verb pesters me to no end—a struggle that might endure throughout several revisions given that, with each pass, the poem's rhythm changes in my head.

 

I do care about the quality of my work; and yet, I've learned from the rejection pile that one's best effort usually doesn't make the cut. A lot depends on the editor and what they like to read and/or write. It also depends on the theme editors are looking for—a criterion not always evident.

 

With one of my recent poem submissions, I faced an unsettling conundrum. The theme and writing style were left up to the writer. Despite familiarizing myself with the publication, the rejection letter stated that while my writing was appreciated, either its theme or style was not what the editors were looking for with their next issue. If only I'd had a better understanding of what they wanted!

 

I've likened the process of getting published to a crapshoot, which also means I've had work accepted for publication that I didn't think would see the light of day. Being in the right place at the right time is an elusive force that figures prominently in getting published. It can allude to an editor's mood or the current political climate or the workload piled on an editor's desk. Unfortunately, it's not always clear what some of those more cryptic guidelines are alluding to when the editors say they're open to all styles/genres/subjects, etc. The confusion is magnified when the feedback in a rejection letter says, "your piece is not quite what we're looking for."

 

In the end, numerous factors—some controllable, others not so much—go into seeing your work published. When I hit the jackpot, I need to accept a win as genuine and celebrate the effort that went into it. So, I plan to mark this latest achievement with a dinner out to reinforce that I can conquer in this game of chance. Lord knows, if I don't acknowledge my milestone achievements with a little bit of fanfare, no one else is going to do so on my behalf.

 

And as I've been wont to do, I'm going to dismiss any reluctance about patting myself on the back (I'll save this little issue of mine for another post). Instead, I will repurpose this celebration as an incentive to keep at it.

 

Here's to raising a glass—bon appetit!

Although 2024 is a leap year, the title of this blog refers to my New Year's resolution to expand my writing community, which I achieved starting in 2023 by jumping in with both feet, two hands, and my keyboard. As one formerly not smitten with poetry, I chose to explore different poetic forms and tools to bolster my writing. Despite confusion about and frustration with the "rules" of poetry, I hung in there and even submitted poems to contests and publications. Not only was my work accepted for publication, I also won a prestigious poetry award as mentioned in an earlier blog or two. I remain elated about my Writer's Digest win, but not because I'm a narcissistic literary snob (see my last post about the imposter syndrome). It's because I had the temerity to dive into a genre I had little affinity for and discovered its suitability for much of my writing.

 

In furtherance of expanding my writing goals, I wrote and submitted additional poems to contests, anthologies, and literary magazines. I subscribed to at least two poetry newsletters, and I now ravenously devour poems-of-the-day that drop into my email inbox. Since the beginning of this year, I've also written more essays, fiction, and autofiction, some of which I've submitted for consideration. And I'm enrolled in online courses sponsored by my local community college.

 

On top of everything else, I wrote a monologue produced and choreographed this past spring by an award-winning director of choreography who plans to collaborate with me on a larger work. I joined two volunteer organizations, one of which supports teen girls who write. I read my poems at two open-mic sessions, and I reliably attend a monthly writing group started by my neighborhood library. In addition, several members of The Authors Guild formed a local branch to which I subscribed.

 

If your head is spinning with the volume of new undertakings, believe me, it's a chore to type fast enough to keep up with everything running through my head. And, yes, I feel a tad overwhelmed. Well aware of the need for balance, I'm ready to pare back a bit—much like going into editing mode to polish a manuscript. To that end, I just removed myself from one committee, and I plan to relinquish another position at the end of this year.

 

But I remain undaunted. Even submission rejections provide impetus to move me forward. As I "kill off one or two darlings," there's still plenty of exciting stuff worthy of my time and devotion to keep me fulfilled. Now that I've grown a more nurturing environment for myself, I look forward to pruning the overgrowth as I dig in with verve.

Identity and Social Justice in Writing: An interview with Michelle Smith

My, my, my. Apparently, karma was at play when I wrote my last year-end blog about gratitude for my 2023 writing accomplishments. I placed a positive spin on the realities of the writing business in which rejection is the norm by discussing the significance of validation beyond publication or contest wins. I expressed optimism that, despite the sea of rejections, one of my submissions would be accepted. And lo and behold, within two weeks of posting my blog, I received a congratulatory email for a poem I entered into the 2023 Writer's Digest annual poetry competition. It was selected as a top-20 winner out of nearly one thousand submissions from around the world.

 

Karma, karma, karma!

 

It took a little convincing on my part to realize that the email congratulating me on my win was not spam. Even after opening it and reading it a couple of times, I wasn't entirely certain until I noticed the citation of my poem's title. After digesting this great news, I thought about potential reasons the editors found my poem compelling. I wrote about the Middle Passage as an exercise for my poetry class after I learned disturbing information in my heritage that affiliated me with the start of the Transatlantic Slave Triangle. From the 16th through 19th centuries, European goods were transported to Africa (first leg of the triangle) in exchange for slaves who were then transported across the Atlantic to the Americas. This second leg, known as the Middle Passage, was especially heinous. The third leg consisted of the conveyance to Europe of goods produced on plantations.

 

As I delved deeper into this history, I developed an overwhelming sense of grief for those negatively impacted by the atrocities of the Middle Passage. The notion of my ancestors playing a significant role in its success disturbed me to the point that I felt compelled to write this poem. I'd recently learned of the Writer's Digest annual poetry contest, and I contemplated submitting my poem for consideration. But I wanted to first get feedback from my fellow students.

 

Because of the backlog of class submissions, along with the imminent contest deadline, I ended up turning in the original piece to Writer's Digest before it was critiqued. Eventually, I read my poem in class and received positive feedback. While I was not enamored with making the suggested changes, I revised it anyway and set it aside for possible submission elsewhere. Meanwhile, I learned I'd inadvertently submitted for Writer's Digest's early deadline. Had I realized this beforehand, I most likely would not have turned in the original piece and instead submitted the revised one for the later deadline. All this is to say, the stars were definitely aligned in my favor.

 

A recent online forum from one of my writing organizations discussed the merits of the well-known adage, "write what you know." If I were interviewed about my winning entry, I would say "write what you're passionate about" because this is exactly the mindset with which I wrote this poem. If you are enthusiastic about something, let others experience that enthusiasm through your writing. If your work moves you, there's a good chance it will move others.

 

In addition to publication, I'll also receive a small cash award, which makes the win even more special. I'll provide updates when I learn the details of publication (around late spring/early summer), but I cannot be more energized about my writing ventures for 2024!

As much as I love writing, I'm finding it difficult to sit down for more than an hour at a time to write my memoir. While the process is cathartic to an extent, dredging up lots of emotional content also leaves me spent. Unfortunately, I have significant blocks in my recall; but as I keep pressing ahead, repressed memory sneaks to the forefront of my consciousness, leaving me surprised to learn that some elements of my upbringing were worse than I initially thought.

 

Even after taking a break, I find myself falling back to old habits of procrastination because of my reluctance to dig deep and really "go there." Sometimes my recollections are so vivid I see certain scenes as though they were taking place right before my eyes. I recently attended a lecture via Zoom that addressed caring for the psyche when writing emotionally charged material in which the speaker suggested memoirists pay attention to emotional cues and take frequent breaks, even if doing so results in a shorter than usual writing session.

 

I feel less productive with shorter sessions; however, some of those resurfaced memories provide an almost exponentially greater amount of inspiration to write (which is manna for any writer). Another positive is the inherent therapeutic benefit as well as the growing ease with which I'm able to identify my true sentiments about the chaos that was my early years. I'm more comfortable with being honest about those feelings even when they reveal my own prejudices and vulnerabilities.

 

Truthfulness is a critical component of memoir writing. While none of us has had the perfect upbringing, it is in the discovery of and reckoning with my truth that I find motivation to keep writing and, ultimately, conclude with a satisfying transformation.