Learning Through Practice

Hello everyone,

In my last newsletter, I wrote about how I was exploring expanding and shrinking—learning to write without a parachute, experimenting with letting myself write longer and messier after months of control.

I’ve continued that work this past month, but I’m seeing the consequences. Too much material. Disorganized. Losing track of what I’ve written. And still scrambling to get something ready for Tuesday.

But the work itself—and that Tuesday deadline—has begun to show me a way forward.

The weekly struggle

As I continued to practice freefall writing—showing up and writing without revision—it felt good.

I was committing an hour to the work, generating either one long attempt or several smaller ones. But the raw material piled up fast—most of it junk or random thoughts. And I always had that pressing Tuesday deadline that forced me to find something—anything—to publish.

In the crunch, I leaned into shorter stories and poems—they were easier to publish and helped with the deadline—which got me thinking about how Seth Godin uses constraints to write his daily blog posts:

“All I get is 26 letters, and I can’t write something more than a page in length. That’s it. Those are my constraints.”

I thought if I wrote like that, I could keep my work tight and manageable.

As I studied his process, I also discovered his queue system: write multiple posts, put them in a queue, and choose which to publish the night before. I hoped this practice could also help me organize my own material and give me space to review the work.

But the queue never really happened. When I tried to sort through November’s writing to find what could fit, almost none of it was even close to being a story. Just fragments and scraps. And my persistent Tuesday deadline forced me to take whatever I could cobble together—short or long.

What I discovered though were two insights that emerged from the pressure itself.

Lesson one: Lighten up

Most of my writing this year has been serious, dealing with my sister's death and my mother’s dementia.

However, two weeks ago, under my deadline crunch, I published Re: Missing Plants.

I was hesitant at first—it was light and silly—not heavy, not filled with grief. But I had a lot of fun reading it to my family, and it reminded me of some older stories I’d written.

Years ago, I challenged myself to publish a story a day for a month. The relentless deadline forced some oddball stories onto the page—lighter, stranger pieces. I later took them down, telling myself they needed editing and weren’t “serious” or “literary” enough.

But reading the plant story to people and seeing them entertained made me realize I needed balance. Those older stories were entertaining and if I brought them back, they'd help me build up my queue.

Lesson two: Explore on the page

Although I’d been writing a lot, the work itself was very unfocused. I tried to remain so open that I never really found any energy or focus, and unfortunately, no stories to tell.

Then, while preparing last week’s entry, Storm at the Lake, I spent some time exploring the idea in a document. It started as a story in a coffee shop, but as I worked through what I actually wanted to say, it shifted into something quite different: a poem at a lake.

Letting myself dream on the page, not forcing a story but just exploring it, helped. I found a direction for the piece through the writing itself, instead of resetting or forcing something without intention.

That process had been missing from the freefall writing. It still meant not worrying about results, but gently nudging the idea forward until it gained some energy—until it formed into something I could actually shape into a story.

Where This Leaves Me

I’m not where I want to be yet, and I’m not fully practicing the system I envision—but I hope to work on it this month.

I’m at the end of my semester—marking, reading, managing students. I’ll be finished in early December. November was also a busy market month for Counios & Gane, which is why I haven’t been writing as much.

Once things settle down, I want to use that queue approach—but this time with more developed material. Stories written with intention, discovered through exploration on the page. Then queue those, review them, and edit as Godin does on Monday nights before publication.

I also want to try several lengths of stories. Short pieces, but also develop longer ones. I’ve even been thinking about trying a novel again.

I’m still exploring, still rethinking my practice, still trying to manage everything that has happened to me personally this year. It would have been my sister’s birthday in December, and Christmas will be different without Mom or Judy, so I’m giving myself permission to experiment without pressure.

Reading and inspiration

As I wrap up, I wanted to share some reading and watching that’s been inspiring me to think differently about my work:

• William Carlos Williams - I’ve been rediscovering this poet, who I’m surprised not many people know about. I thought “The Red Wheelbarrow” was standard material for an English 100 class.
• Russell Edson - I learned about his strange absurdist prose poems. These stories delight me, but I know they aren’t everyone’s cup of tea.
• Brian Evenson - I just started reading his short story collection Song for the Unravelling of the World, and love the vibe of his stories.
• Paul Thomas Anderson - After finally seeing One Battle After Another and discussing his work with my TA, I’ve been exploring his writing process and how he is character-first oriented.

These creators won't be for everyone, but their unique way to tell stories was an inspiration for me.

New Writing

Stories are published on my website every Tuesday. (If you’re interested in reading them, you can find subscription options here.)

• Storm at the lake (Nov 25)
• Re: Missing Plants (Nov 18)
• a lone leaf (Nov 11)
• Magpie (Nov 4)

Until next time,
David​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​