by Alexandra M. Landeros
Bethesda Terrace in Central Park
I’ve been writing as long as I can remember. When I was a little girl, instead of playing with dolls or hanging out with the neighborhood children, I would sit at the kitchen table and write down stories. If I was feeling particularly crafty, I’d staple together looseleaf sheets to make my own journals, using construction paper as the cover. I’d illustrate the front, and on the back, I’d include a hand-drawn bar code in the lower right hand corner, in the hopes that I’d perhaps sell the book one day. Already then, I was thinking of writing as both a creative process and a business enterprise.
In high school, my English teachers would tell me that I needed to study writing or English in college, but being a rebellious teenager, I decided to pursue public policy, after a brief affair with architecture. My senior year in college, because of my interest in film, I took a few screen writing classes. But it wasn’t until two years after graduating from college that I finally realized my high-school teachers were right all along.
I applied to about half a dozen graduate MFA creative writing programs in 2000, and I was rejected by all of them. Boston University sent me a nice note recommending that I read more Russian literature to improve my writing. Frustrated, I took a few creative writing courses through the University of Texas at Austin’s continuing education program. I should have learned then that writing – and being a writer – required a lot of 1) patience, 2) self-discipline, and 3) persistence. But I didn’t. (At least, not the first two things.)
The following year, I re-applied. I was admitted to Texas State University’s MFA creative writing program. After three years of theory courses and peer review workshops, leading up to my thesis (under the guidance of Latino author Dagoberto Gilb), I definitely should have learned that being a writer required a lot of patience, self-discipline, and persistence. Without a true support network, I felt emotionally drained and empty. I was too young at the time to develop meaningful writing relationships with my peers and professors. So I gave up, and as soon as I graduated from the program in 2004, I stopped writing.
Over the years, however, I started to understand the importance of friendships to help in mutual creative nurturing, and that is one of the things that Las Comadres is all about. Over the last few years, I’ve slowly gotten back into writing, but mostly by way of copywriting for marketing projects and writing articles for newspapers and magazines.
When I was given the opportunity to not only attend the 2nd Annual Comadres and Compadres Writers Conference, but also to meet with a literary agent, I spent many late nights working on a new manuscript, instead of going back to edit my old stories from graduate school, collecting dust without ever having been submitted to anyone except to my thesis director.
I was not expecting to land a book deal, but I also didn’t realize how much more work I still had to do. Although I hadn’t previously learned my lesson that writing is a process, it was finally clear to me this time around. But instead of backing off out of exhaustion or disillusionment, I embraced the fact that I would have to “go back to the writing table.” I may not be the next Junot Diaz (well, I’m already too old for that), and it may take me another 20 years before my writing is ready for publication. But I’m okay with that now. As long as I don’t stop writing, and I continue to foster relationships with the comadres and compadres who will help me along the way.
Top 5 Things I Learned at the Comadres and Compadres Writers Conference
-
No cell signal or WiFi on the subway? Good!
Just because writing is creative doesn’t mean there isn’t a technical process. Even the most whimsical architecture needs a solid structure, or else it will fall down to the ground. Stories are the same way. In Reyna Grande‘s Craft Workshop for Adult Books, we learned the ins and outs of story structure and plot. Grande reminded us, “You have to learn the rules of writing before breaking them.”
- What you consider important might not be to others. In Bella Stander‘s Publicity Workshop, we learned about how authors are expected to take the lead in promoting their books. She encouraged all authors to ask the following questions about their books: “So what? Who cares?” It’s important to be honest about one’s own work. A writer’s number one mistake is unrealistic expectations.
- Don’t worry about how or where you might fit in. Just write. During my 15-minute one-on-one session with literary agent Joy Tutela, we didn’t talk much about my manuscript, but rather my approach to writing. I was trying too hard to fit a mold. What if there is no cultural or heritage element in my stories? Do I fall into the mainstream? Maybe so, and there’s nothing wrong with that. My stories should go beyond cultural struggle – in many ways, that story has already been told. Tutela said that an intense and interesting story is one where “extraordinary things happen with a specific and universal message.”
-
Alexandra M. Landeros and Toni M. Kirkpatrick
Every now and then, you really have to shut out the noise (especially from the Internet). As I had never been to New York City before, I decided to spend a couple of days before and after the conference to sightsee (and my hosts Lizzie and Matt Cofrancesco were absolutely delightful!). On one of our trips, it took about an hour and a half on the subway from Brooklyn to north of Central Park to visit The Metropolitan Museum of Art’s The Cloisters. After reading the entire arts section of The New York Times and no cell or WiFi signal in the subways, I wrote. And I wrote. And it was some of the best writing I’ve ever done.
- Sometimes the people who are going to be important in your life in the future were right there all along. At the conference, I re-connected with Toni Margarita Plummer (now Toni M. Kirkpatrick). Although we were several grades apart, we grew up in the same hometown of South El Monte and went to the same elementary school. I had the honor of interviewing her about her book The Bolero of Andi Rowe and her writing career for the South El Monte Arts Posse‘s upcoming project “East of East: Mapping Community Narratives in South El Monte and El Monte.”
