What Happens When Your Story's 16 Year-Old Manuscript is Terrible?

I made it through the remaining notebooks for “Stew.” Pure crap. Furthermore, I only have 9 chapters here. Maybe I wrote more. I hope not.

 

I am left wondering what I was thinking and also knowing what I was thinking. Muncie, old girlfriends, music, Faust. It does not resemble my memory of the original idea and it does not resemble my memory of what I wrote in 2010. The only interesting idea is a multi-dimensional bar. 

 

Having spent Sunday, parts of Saturday and Friday, and a bit of Thursday working through Chapter 8 with mostly new ideas, I have left myself on my own. I remain on hiatus for the next few days.

The good news is that I might be able to use some of the material (exclduing visits to a crossroads) for “Chasing Ashes” when I get to Muncie. Perhaps shrink it down to a chapter to follow “Passerby”. 

 

I have been a mess since Friday. No church yesterday because when I was about to leave the digestive tract decided to rebel. Saturday, it was my back and stomach. I meant to go to No Kings only when I arrived I felt too tired to be in a crowd or even to stand in the crowd. I called CC, and we went to dinner at the new Yummy Mongolian Barbeque. The place is rather posh in its ambience, was packed, and the food was good until my stomach turned on the spices I chose.

 

Insomnia has been a problem. Even tonight I had to crash after taking care of some business. It was the back again.

 

I managed a few blog posts this morning, and I got my dishes done and vacuumed! I spent an hour talking to J. I left her laughing, something she needs.

 

It is going on 11 PM. Too much caffeine too late and sleep will probably be unsuccessful. I will put off submissions until tomorrow. Unless insomnia strikes again.

 

 

sch 

 

 

Getting Caught Up With Monday and the PO Visits

Well, a less rocky start to my day than has been the rule this week. I accomplished what I meant to do on Monday; so now I caught up myself to two days ago.

Not a thing done for Stew apart from having it too much on my mind. No, I decided to expand on one of my planned submissions. I was in the middle of that when the PO made a visit. Actually, I got two for the price of one. The old one showed up again. I think this is the third straight time for a fellow who had to take on new work. The new one made a remark about me having been a bit of a smart ass, so is the pairing because they think the older one intimidates me? After all that was his MO. 

I did get clarification that they do have my mental health records. It turns out what they are looking for is whether I remain suicidal. The new guy says he reads the blog, I thought it was clear I was long past suicidal. And that makes me wonder if I am being understood. I had to explain that they were 17 years late worrying about me and suicide, that not being good at killing myself was taken as a sign to give it up. I guess I am also curious if they ever wondered why I didn't try to off myself in prison. Muncie can be grim, Indiana dull, but I would think if I had continued with suicidal thoughts it would be done at Fort Dix FCI. 

And we had a discussion about masturbation. They seemed incredulous that I saw no point in even attempting. I felt afterward I had disappointed someone's prurient interest. Perhaps I should give it a try for the PO's benefit? Too much work. 

I did get a compliment from the new guy on my writing. 

Got them on the road to a hopefully more reqarding experience and finished revising the story. 

 I talked to KH and am still waiting for his verdict on Stew's second and third chapters. That took me up to the time I needed to take CC to her probation meeting.

 

Ukraine Can Turn Imminent Peril to Its Advantage (Foreign Affairs) 

 Rebecca Solnit’s (Mis)Adventures in the Manosphere (The Nation) (Paywall)

Usually treated as mysterious or somehow authentically arising from the grass roots, what came to be known as “the manosphere” was to a large degree a racket run on Internet platforms that let lies, hate, and manipulation proliferate because they were profitable. It has become a miasma that engulfs everyone from the titans of Silicon Valley to teenage boys recruited for the right by those titans’ platforms. The manosphere is a shared set of references and perspectives that began on the Internet and ended up as real-life consequences shaped by the beliefs and values slurped up online. The much-discussed crisis of masculinity is in no small part a product of the exploitation of masculinity as identity politics and marketing schemes (and the most harmful identity politics in the United States have been all along the nexus of whiteness and maleness). Its many facets are often treated separately, but they are all connected. 

America Is Making Its Own Problems Worse  by Mark Hertling 

It’s understandable, in a somewhat self-interested way, why a president would want to lower domestic energy prices before an election (though the president’s diesel deal, even if it goes through, is unlikely to have much effect on prices because the total volume being traded is about one day’s worth of American diesel consumption). But denying an aggressor the resources it needs to keep fighting is also important. Why would the United States provide Russia with an economic lifeline while simultaneously expecting Ukraine to follow American instructions about where, when, and how to fight its war of self-defense?

***

One more time for those in the back: The United States has extraordinary capabilities to strike targets almost anywhere, but destroying a target and achieving a strategic objective are not the same thing. Iran has repeatedly demonstrated its ability to retaliate through missiles, drones, regional partners, cyber operations, and attacks against maritime commerce.

Military commanders are taught to examine the second- and third-order effects of their decisions before executing any action. Political leaders should be expected to do the same, especially when the consequences could include more American casualties, an expanding regional conflict, continued damage to the global economy, and a weakened American position in other parts of the world against more formidable threats.

***

Deterrence requires military capability and credible diplomatic engagements. It also requires strong alliances that convince potential aggressors the costs of an attack will outweigh any possible gains. That applies across the globe: the Middle East, Europe, and the Indo-Pacific region. When American officials undermine trust with allies, they risk weakening an essential component of our national security: trust.

***

Beijing is observing how American forces respond to Iranian missiles and drones, how rapidly precision weapons are expended, how effectively allied defenses operate, and how long industry takes to replace sophisticated munitions. Chinese military planners can also assess the difficulty of maintaining forces across several regions simultaneously. It would be surprising if the People’s Liberation Army weren’t already incorporating these observations into assessments of a potential confrontation with the United States. China continues modernizing its conventional forces, expanding its nuclear arsenal, and developing capabilities designed to complicate American operations in the Western Pacific.

 

The one rock and roll story that has sucked me in over the decades until I think it is an essential story that is not told wellenough or wide enough: Bob Dylan and Jorma Kaukonen on the tragedy of Mike Bloomfield (GuitarPlayer).

Why are the blues the lingua franca of guitarists everywhere? Why is the 1959 sunburst Les Paul one of the most coveted axes in the universe?

The answer to both questions has a lot to do with guitarist Mike Bloomfield. Though he is often overshadowed by Eric Clapton, Peter Green and other electric blues guitarists who emerged in the mid-1960s, Bloomfield set the pace for the disruptive fervor of that period’s youth revolution with his deep-fried mix of Chicago blues and freak-out frenzy.

The steely urgency of his guitar solos energized the music of groundbreaking artists, including Bob Dylan, Muddy Waters, Janis Joplin, Al Kooper and the Paul Butterfield Blues Band. Dylan himself once called Bloomfield “the best guitar player I ever heard.” Many would agree.

 

They’re Coming For The Libraries (Sheila Kennedy)

 

When the Book Wasn’t Better or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Adaptation (Uncanny Magazine)

 At its best, adaptation is the artistic world in conversation with itself. Its creators are in dialogue across mediums, recognizing quality and being inspired to represent it in their art form. Even so, there will always be some anxiety around a beloved story making the jump into the mainstream, but there can also be joy in finally sharing in the thrill of collective experience with a wider audience. Future adaptations may fall short, but they can still enrich the story in the process by sending you back to the novel, and through comparison highlight all the things you didn’t realize you cherished until you were faced with their absence.

 

History of Native Americans in Indiana  (Mirror Indy)

Other names remain throughout the state. Cities like Shipshewana and Kewanna are named after Potawatomi chiefs. In Indianapolis, the White River’s name comes from a translation of the Miami word “waapikaminki,” which means “on the white water.” The Monon Trail is named after the Monon Railroad, which derived its name from the Potawatomi word meaning “swift running.”

But for Miami tribal historic preservation officer George Strack, naming places for Native Americans isn’t the same as respecting them.

Strack is a member of the Miami Tribe of Oklahoma, descendents of the Native Americans that were forced out of the state. The Miami Tribe owns 45 acres of land outside Fort Wayne where members can reconnect with their history, language and culture.

“It was really hard to grow up with that identity. There were times that people would make fun of that and do the ‘woo woo woo’ sound with their hand over their mouths. It really affected me, you know. And I think it affected all of us from a Native background.”

As we mark the United States’ 250th anniversary, very few Native Americans live in Indiana, which actually translates to “Land of the Indians.”  

*** 

Today, only two federally recognized groups of Native Americans have land in Indiana — the Pokagon Band of Potawatomi and the Miami Tribe of Oklahoma.

The Pokagon Band was named after its leader, Chief Leopold Pokagon. Pokagon convinced the U.S. to allow them to stay in southwestern Michigan, a portion of their homeland. According to the band, they earned the right to remain there in part because they had demonstrated a strong attachment to Catholicism. 

After decades of trying to get their federal recognition restored by the Congress, they finally succeeded in 1994. In 2016, the band received 166 acres of their land in South Bend back, which they used to create 44 homes for their members and a casino.  

The Miami Tribe are the descendants of the Miami that were removed to Kansas. After a few decades there, the Miami were moved to Oklahoma in the 1870s.

 

Submissions

Exposition Review - The Ride Back 

Massachusetts Review , Variant Literature- The First Day of Feeling Free

 Indy removes dam on White River, benefitting fish and other wildlife 

 

Colette’s “Mitsou”:  Part Play, Part Epistolary Novel (Thornfield Hall) because I read Colette in prison and got my eyes opened to what can be done with the novel; even if the writer is French.

Republican Tries to Get Journalist Arrested After Disastrous Debate (The New Republic) is just another tale of the clown car.

 VOTER GUIDE: Court of Appeals and Tax Court judges are on the ballot for retention (THE INDIANA CITIZEN). I always vote against just to keep these people on their toes.

 I ran CC to Walmart and then back to where she is staying. The same melodrama that she is too old for. We are supposed to talk tomorrow.

A cold dinner, I cleaned out tabs and did a couple of submissions noted above. Now, I am too tired for more writing. Mabye a little Netflix.

sch 

Navigating Lethargy

Saturday, I worked on blog posts and the rock and roll story.

Thank you for submitting your stories to Merion West. We are going to pass on these, but I did enjoy reading them, particularly The First Day of Feeling Free. I look forward to future submissions if you have them.

Jonathan Church
Senior Editor, Merion West 

Also submitted were After Making Landfall and Agnes 2026-06-26. It seems I'm doing something right with “The First Day of Feeling Free” but not enough of it.

Sunday, I made it to Liturgy and then spent the rest of the day not doing much. 

Submissions Sunday:

The Aliens Meet The Peach  to Metastellar and Translunar Travelers Lounge.

I forgot Monday was Columbus Day, so off I went to the bank. I ate at Arby's thinking a real meal might get me straightened out. The bank was closed and nothing perked me up. I had already missed Monday's liturgy. I spent most of the day dozing. 

Monday's rejection:

Thank you for your interest in Mulberry Literary and for the chance to review your work! We greatly appreciate your support of our mission. People like you empower our indie publication to maintain and expand opportunities for creativity across the world. Unfortunately, your submission does not fit our current needs, but we wish you the best of luck and success in your creative endeavors.

Sincerely,

The Mulberry Team

Mulberry Literary

 Insomnia hit me last night and today has been a trip to the bank. lunch and sleeping.

I just woke up for the second or third time today. I keep dreaming bits for the novel that needs so much overhauling from y 21010 manuscript.

And I might go back to sleep.

Sharing what little news I have read today: Rats in Indianapolis: City ranks 19th among most-rodent-infested cities. 

Rejections for today.

After Making Landfall: 

Thank you for giving us the opportunity to read your story and your patience while it was under consideration. Although the volume of submissions we receive is considerable, we remain committed to giving each submission careful attention. While we are not able to advance your story for publication this time, we hope you will consider submitting to Alaska Quarterly Review again. Information about upcoming submission periods will be posted on our website.

With gratitude,

The Editors

Alaska Quarterly Review

***

Thank you for submitting your work. We regret to inform you that, unfortunately, your submission did not fit our editorial needs. We wish you the best of luck finding another home for your work, and we encourage you to continue submitting to us in the future. 

Currently, we’re still open for novellas & our short story contest, in which every story submitted is considered for publication as either a runner-up or a winner. By clicking here, you can access our 2025 anthology, which is available to read for free online; we recommend you read some of our stories to get a sense of what we're looking for before submitting. 

 

Best, 

The Board of Editors

Driftwood Press

 Please find us on Instagram, Facebook, X / Twitter, Substack, Bluesky, TikTok, or Linkedin to stay up-to-date with our publication. You can also sign up for our newsletter at the bottom of our website.

Scenes From An Indiana Factory Town:

Thank you for submitting to New Letters. Although we are not able to publish your work at this time, please be assured that we value your submission and your interest.

Our general reading period is open. You may also send fiction, poetry, and essays to our award programs with yearly deadlines in mid-May. Awards total $6,000.00 annually.

Thanks, again, for thinking of New Letters.

With best wishes,

Christie Hodgen

Editor-in-Chief

This has about wiped me out. 

sch

Yesterday I visted Metamora and Oldenburg

I went south again yesterday with CC. I am sooooo regretting it. But I can say it was useful for research. I have forgotten so much over the years, mostly that things are further apart  or closer than I remember.

We left close to 11 AM. Down Indiana 3 again to Rushville. By the time we got there, we were hungry. We stopped at Rosita's Pancake House; CC wanted breakfast. She got chicken fried steak with eggs and hash browns. I got the cheddar cheese burger and onion rings. We were both surprised at how good the food was. If you are in Rushville, give Rosita's a shot.

We went down US 52. Far less traffic than there had been on Indiana 3 any time on Monday. 

 More wooded than I recall, but when I had been down this road before it always in the late Spring. More flatness, too, nearer to the State Road 3 intersection. Then it stwisting and an incline into the Whitewater River valley. I noticed newer, more expensive, even stylish homes along 52.

One trip south, I am thinking 1972 or 1973, Mom stopped the car and watched hang gliders launching off this hill. It now has a cross and some other building atop it, and a gated entrance. I did not take the time to read the sign. I assume it belongs to the church across the highway.

 

By the time we got to Metamora, lunch had its usual effect on CC, and she began dozing off.

 I expected nothing from Metamora, this being a Wednesday, and the town met my expectations.

No, the surprise was the canal being dry.  The big flood shut down the inlet for watering the canal and it is now dry.

 Then we went to Oldenburg. We stopped to check out the convent.

 The last is of the old church next to the convent. I do not know if I captured the sheer size of the convent. There might be more nuns than townspeople.

 

CC  asked what people did for fun down there and we decided not much. We were ready to get home. We did that a little after 5 PM. Since then I have been pretty much crippled. Great scenery, though. 

Although I made one more run to the grocery while I have a car, with every step pain radiated from my knees. I hope to be able to walk tomorrow.

sch 

Yesterday I Went To Versailles

After liturgy yesterday, I decided on a road trip to Versailles. It was as much a research trip as a get away. I also intended to get in some fishing. That was the only failure of the day, the fishing. I left about 10 AM and returned after 6:30 pm. I was asleep by 8:30, my right foot went numb on the way back, and the rest of me had achieved a state of uncomfortable numbness by the time I got into the apartment.

I went down Indiana 3 to New Castle and then to Rushville. All territory I included in “Road Tripping”. I managed no photos until I stopped in Spiceland for a break and a Coke.

 

The intersection of Indiana 3 and US 40 (The Old National Road), and a bit of Dunreith.

My memories got a serious jogging after I left US 40 for Rushville. It is neither as flat or as straight as I recalled.

 I did not recall the big Diamond factory as I came into Rushville. The second factory looks different but I recall its position. Rushville's commercial park seems ambitious, if empty.

 

 

The fast food places and chain stores all seem to be on the north side. There is also the county hospital. 

After that, there is what might appear as Hoosier quaintness. It makes me think there was money here and might still be. 

 

Call me very surprised at finding a Japanese restaurant in Rushville.

Below this area begins what would be the town center - the city government offices, small shops, the county courthouse - if it were not so close to what is the south side of the city.

 This is where I got out of the car and took a short tour. Where I parked was in the block north of the intersection between US 52, State Road 3, and State Road Indiana 44. US 52 goes northwest to Indianapolis and southeast to Cincinatti. 44 goes east to Connersville and west to Shelbyville. The view from that corner:

 The castle-looking building is the Rush County courthouse. Lots of semi-trucks passed me heading south and north.

You can see the streets are empty. The antique shops were closed, but not the Radio Shack.

What makes Rushville historically significant, its most famous citizen:

 

I thought to eat at the restaurant that had been south of the courthouse on 3 next to the Flatrock River. Only the restaurant was now a park. I decided on eating at Greensburg. A quick bite.

What I think is the coolest shot I took all of yesterday.

 The road started to roll more, its straightness relaxed. I stopped only for this bit of strangeness.

 I tried snapping shots of Greensburg as I came into the city. These are of the area just south of Interstate 74. 

 I was looking for US 421. It was not to be seen. A frisson of anxiety as both road and scenery were unfamiliar. I assumed I was to the east of the courthouse area. That assumption was wrong, I was to the north. Not much activity around the courthouse square as lunch time approached, but the tree remains in the courthouse tower.

 Two things I did not capture with photos were another Japanese restaurant (is this because of the Honda plant in Greensburg?) and the Sinclair gas station (that came out too blurry). Sinclair is a brand I have seen since I was a little kid; my mother had a cousin working for them back then, so the name stuck in my brain. 

Heading southeast on 421 out of Greensburg:

 Only there was a detour that took me east to Batesville. Lot of cool stuff there, and I really regretted losing the battery before I ran into the town later from the east. The town seems growing, I saw plenty of new and rather attractive homes going up (probably expensive homes, too).

 Time forbid more shots. I left Batesville on State Road 229. This is the kind of winding road where you pay attention to the asphalt and obey the speed limits.

 Eventually, I got through to Osgood and back on 421. That was after Napoleon where I should have taken photos.

 I wound up eating at the Osgood Grub Company on my way back home. It is in the same location as a place where we ate during our family trips to Versailles. Definitely not the same menu, which is ala carte and a bit stiff, but their ribeye sandwhich was fantastic and I almost ordered a second.

The Tyson Methodist Church and the Tyson High School remain the same. I forgot how big the school is. I think my mother's mother graduated from Vesailles High School which was replaced by Tryson's school.

 My oldest sister might be surprised how Versailles now has a CVS, not quite as much Brigadoon as it was when we were little.

 

 Two places to eat and drink, but I got a photo of only one.

 They now have a government annex on the north side of the old courthouse that I could not get in one shot (new = 2012), and I swear the courthouse is now bricks instead of white wood.

 The jail looked the same:

 As did the cemetery:

 Where I found a new mystery. I was unable to find the graves for my mother's mother, her sister Betty or her other sister Mary Ellen. Somehow, I lost my grandmother and two aunts, and an uncle. Finding out more is the job for today.

I spent most of my time in Versailles at the local historical society. 

 

The fellow manning the place was helpful, but the books were more helpful. I solved a couple of mysteries - I held the wedding certificate of my mother's mother's parents' wedding certificate. I found an entry for the guardianship for my mother's mother's father; he got to Ripley County through his mother's family. My mother's father was living in Anderson when he married my grandmother in 1919.

But the camera's battery died in the cemetery. Time had run out for fishing. I left the historical society at 3:30. I came back on 421, taking the detour at Osgood (after that amazing ribeye standwich) to Indiana 129 to 44 into Batesville, and from there I chose Interstate 74 to State Road 3. This was 3:44 pm. Then it was a straight drive back home. It was almost 3 hours after I left Batesville.

I was surprised to see more Beau Bayh signs in Ripley county than in Delaware.   

And it has taken me about almost that same amount of time to get this post written along with attendant emails.

sch