Finding Your Writing Niche

I don't know why I did it, but today I purchased William Zinsser's On Writing Well from a gift shop bookstore. It was a little pricey, but the impulse, arising from boredom, put me in a curious mood. The front cover of this book clearly warns it is a "Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction."


Did you see that? The color of the operative word is red.

I've been trying to produce a fictional novel for the past several years. I've written fourteen chapters in my third attempt. Why would I gravitate toward such an extreme as nonfiction? I had to ask myself this because my appetite for fiction seems to have taken a dive. I leave my manuscript at various stages and in multiple locations: Dropbox folder, flash drive, external hard drive, etc. Sometimes I wonder when I'll actually hunker down and go looking for the most current version. Sad?!

So now I ask myself. What "nonfiction" subject would appeal to me? I've pampered my blog for 5 years now and I've never once treated it like I do my manuscripts. I haven't ignored it for months at a time. I check the health of my blog with Google Analytics to ensure she's getting the proper attention. I post articles with keywords resulting in promised and predictable results. So why don't I allot the same attention to my manuscript?

After I read the first 3 chapters of Zinsser's book, a revelation struck me. I'm not a storyteller. I don't have a story I can jot down in a set number of words to make a novel. I'm a writer who wants to tell you about what I know and believe. That's why I return here so much. I'm not wired to tell stories. I'm wired to give an opinion about things I care about, namely writing and the crap that happens to me.

This is sort of about writing, but it's more about crap that happens to me. It's about the purchase of a writing book which may have changed my writer path. Whether that's for the better or not, we shall see.

Maybe I should look into memoir writing...

Topics available:

1. The Magic Closet - the story of my son who has A.D.D. and the number of times I found naked girls in his bedroom closet.

2. Hi, I Don't Belong Here - my week long stay in the hospital because I lost it, really lost it.

3. I'm Glad I Wasn't Aborted, Too - a candid discussion with my mother who revealed the fact she couldn't afford to abort me and the relief she felt afterward.

Trust me, all three are nonfiction titles! Please vote and let me know which story I should tell. I appreciate your input. You all have been with me through the years. You SHOULD be the ones I listen to when making these major decisions with my writing journey. I trust you. Write your votes in the comments below.



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February Blog Chain - Second Chances

by Diane Carlisle

The February prompt for the AbsoluteWrite.com blog chain is about second chances. My story is a true one and I thank God every day that I’m here to tell it because in the beginning, before I was even born, I was given a second chance. I hope this doesn’t offend anyone, and the fact that I write this with a light heart is proof enough that I hold no ill feelings toward anyone, including my mom. I love you, mom!

What's a girl to do when told she was almost aborted? I think it was mom’s way of telling me that
she was proud of my accomplishments. Maybe it's the only way she knew how to say it. My accomplishments never really meant anything to anyone because everything I’d accomplished, from bottle weaning to potty training to graduation from high school (wait, I dropped out in the 12th grade), had already been done by my sister who happens to be eleven months older.

So, when it was my turn for accolades after having graduated college? I got the "I'm so happy I didn't go through with that abortion" story. Mom had said she was stunned when the doctor told her she was pregnant two months after she’d had my sister. My future parents were poor at the time and couldn't afford an abortion. So, while they saved up the money, I continued to grow inside her womb.

When they finally had enough to pay for the abortion, mom had felt me kick and decided she couldn't go through with it. Good thing I kicked her when I did. The hell was she thinking anyway?

"Something just told me I shouldn't be doing this," she had said. Yeah, that something was me, telepathically slapping the shit out of you. I didn't actually say that; it's what I felt like saying.

Don't get me wrong. I loved my mother and bless her she is not with us today, but there are just some things you keep to yourself. The fact that she wanted to abort me was her own business, you know? I know her intention was to praise me. Though, I wish it had come out something like, "I'm so proud of you for putting yourself through college. I always knew you were smart." I don’t know, to me it just sounds better.

I wanted to tell her she didn't do me any favors. I was the one who fought to be here. It was my spirit that got me here, despite all the evil contemplations to abort me. I'm not even going to use that word to sugar coat it. She wanted to kill me! She wanted to get rid of that thing she’d created because it would have complicated her life by essentially blessing her with two babies in diapers. I’m glad she discovered it wasn’t that much more work having me tag along.

This was something I really would rather have not known. What was my response supposed to be anyway? Was I supposed to thank her for not killing me so that I would have the opportunity to put myself through college and make something of this life that she’d given me? Had she not divulged this information, everything would be fine, because I'd be thanking her for giving me life rather than thanking God that I kicked her ass when I did.

My mother is not turning over in her grave with this post. She is rather laughing her ass off, knowing I can find humor in such a painful memory. I'm taking advantage of this second chance. I won't let you down, mom!

If you have a second chance story you'd like to share, link it:

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