I’m A Writer?
This is my first blog post on Medium. I’m not entirely sure what I hope to accomplish by blogging. I know what I’ve tried thus far in the literary world and I know that I’m struggling to find purchase. My name is Matthew. I am Autistic, Disabled, and Non-binary (all pronouns).
The most quantitative measure of success that I have as a writer would likely be my articles as a Contributing Writer for Thinknum Media. I enjoyed the business focused stories that used analytics to drive news. I like having my name attached to things, as most narci.. I mean, writers, do.
I am also a freelance Sensitivity and Expert Reader. The work is very rewarding, if intermittent.
Many years ago I was a substance abuse counselor. My formal education is in Culinary Arts, Behavioral Science, and Chemical Dependency Counseling. I worked in the prison system, non-profit, and private practice.
The focus that drives me, that sustains me creatively, is writing kidlit. I write picture books. I honestly don’t know what image is conjured when people think of picture book writers. I’m not published. I’m querying fiercely. I’ve had a great deal of success on Twitter pitch events, but it hasn’t materialized in offers.
Last year at this time I was homeless. I was living in a shelter, and I remember watching the families. I’d been homeless before, when I was just a kid. And when I was a kid I drew a derpy flamingo I named Flannery. My mother and I were living in a shelter for battered women and families. I was around eight or nine. And I had very little talent for drawing. The only thing I could draw with any success then, and to this day, is a very cartoony flamingo. This didn’t stop me from producing, with the help of shelter staff, a weekly newsletter featuring my feathered friend Flannery. The newsletter amounted to what was essentially a poorly drawn comic with Flannery in death-defying situations, yet coming through it alive with his positive attitude and cunning as his only weapons. The other kids liked it. And I continued to draw pictures of Flannery over the next 30 years of my life, albeit without much purpose.
And watching those kids play and remembering my time in similar circumstances sparked a passion in me. I could help those kids. It was a like wildfire. The idea blazed, and almost instantly I formed it into a narrative structure. I reformed my experiences and my knowledge into a tool that could be sweet and engaging, yet help children reframe homelessness into something that was not just survivable and that encouraged resiliency. My background, both personal and educational, could mean something.
It was that purpose that gave me what I needed to survive being homeless. I’m housed now. I’ve written and edited a handful of picture books, received some ~40 rejections. I’ve got a pocket full of personal feedback and a couple Revise and Resubmits. It’s encouraging, yet daunting. I persist, even if it’s with a limp at times.
More to come…