“Lawyer? I hardly know her” + upcoming classes

Greetings, Humans.

I have a collection of literary oracle cards on my desk and every Monday I pull a card to see how my week is going to go. Last week, I pulled Toni Morrison, the card for stepping into your power.

When I thought most about stepping into (or retaining) my power, I thought about my phone. I thought about all the hours lost to scrolling and checking, knowing that I’m looking for good news that may or may not be there. So for me, stepping into power looked more like retaining my mindset and focusing on the things that are right in front of me—the book I’m reading, the child I’m talking to, the garden I’m building, the home I’m creating.

Coincidentally, this was the week I also read this article from Vox by Celia Ford on what we give up when we allow AI to think for us. Yes, we have always found ways to outsource thinking from our brains: handwritten notes, calendars, watches, and timers are a few analog examples. Yes, I think it’s better that we can use a calculator to do big math rather than back of the envelope scratching. And yes, I do use AI, usually to automatically transcribe the recordings from my journalism interviews.

But what’s funny about those interviews is that the AI will try to work out some “takeaways” from the conversation and offer up some questions I could ask next. They’re always wrong. I mean, they’re technically right, on the surface. But it’s always what isn’t being said that say the most in each interview. It’s the pauses, the hesitation before an answer or the excitement in a voice. The subtle sound of tears, the sighs. So far, an AI hasn’t cracked that code—it’s still too unpredictably human.

I know AI will get better. But we can get better too, at the things we’re already good at, that we’ve evolved to be good at. Connecting with others, holding each other’s hands, sitting together in silence, laughter. Lay me in my grave before I allow the tech industry to move fast and break that.

So I’ll be leaving the phone behind more often. Reclaiming my time like Maxine Waters from the scrolling tide. Digital sabbaths on Sundays treated with as much religious fervor as a devout apostle. If I don’t get back to you right away, just wait. I’ll get there eventually. While you wait, go look at the clouds, tell me what you see.

But for now—

Let’s gossip.

Submission Success Story: Prima Materia by David Chad Hindman for Swing

I first met Chad Hindman when he was volunteering for The Porch and thought he seemed nice. Thoughtful, a serious reader but with a sense of humor, we would babysit the Porch house during the open office hours offering and have lovely, quiet mornings together. Chad said he was a lawyer. Cool, I didn’t know many lawyers.

Weeks later, I saw Chad’s name in the paper because he was the public defender representing a man accused of a brutal murder that took place across from my library and that my coworkers had basically helped solve. (Long story, ask me later if you want to hear it.) There was no question the man did the crime; the evidence was insurmountable. But Chad did his duty; the man eventually pled guilty in order to avoid death row and now sits in a Tennessee prison for life with no parole. I asked Chad once, years later, about what that case was like, if he was allowed to talk about it. He said when the chips were that stacked and the case was obviously a losing one, his job was to make sure the State covered every base, that every potential avenue for justice was questioned and pursued, that everything was thrown at it to ensure justice was done, as well as it can be in a situation like this. I’m not paraphrasing it well—suffice to say, my respect for Chad grew three times in size that day.

With that, I’ll let Chad speak for himself. Welcome!

I am always quick to let someone know that, even though I’ve been a public defender for 15 years, I don’t write legal fiction. That’s true. I don’t. But it’s also true that most of my stories pull something from the grotesque reality of my profession. Prima Materia is an example of that bleeding, seeping influence.
I’ve had many clients over the years accused of terrible acts involving children. I work to give each of them the effective defense to which they are entitled, regardless of my own beliefs or feelings about the situation. Many of those cases I’ve believed, even outright known, my clients were guilty. The worse cases are when I believe they’re truly innocent, not just legally innocent, nothing so sophistic, but innocent in the pure-and-sinless-lamb-of-Abraham-and-Isaac sense of the word.
Prima Materia is an attempt to let go of some of my deep anxiety around the concept of being falsely accused. I’ve had it since I was a kid the same age as the one in my story. There are still episodes of my favorite comfort shows I skip because I can’t bear a character being framed for something, that three story arc where the main character gets locked up in jail through the antagonist’s schemes.
All of which got wrapped up in my Southern Baptist, fire and brimstone, religious trauma. The other great tributary to my underground river of anxiety. I don’t know…maybe it’s all one and the same. Being an atheist still convinced you are damned to a lake of fire for rejecting a god you can’t have faith in is just another way of saying I was set up from the start. I don’t know if I’m the accused or the accuser in my story, probably both.
The folks at Swing Magazine were incredible. I’ve been published a few times but the support and encouragement and feedback I got from them, even when they rejected it the first time around, helped me make it a much stronger story. Then to see some of those words turned into gorgeous cover art by Rachel Briggs felt surreal. I was actually sitting in court, waiting for a hearing when I was emailed the cover art and got a few concerned looks from fellow attorneys when I started laughing too loudly in the very quiet court. I still had a crack in my voice and watery eyes when I started advocating for my client that day.

The Stats:

Total Time Spent on Submission: I usually email myself a copy of a finished draft. My first emailed draft for this one was 12/03/2022, so probably started a couple of months before that.

Response time from Swing: 4 months for the resubmission and acceptance.

Total rejections before acceptance: 19 other rejections from simultaneous submissions and a couple of withdraws post acceptance (It is, like, the best feeling to withdraw a piece because it was accepted.) Four of those were higher tier rejections.

Pay: $25 and submission copies. Holding a printed magazine with pictures from your head on it was the real pay.

“Prima Materia” is included in the Fall 2024, volume 2, issue 1 of Swing, the literary magazine supported by the Porch. Get your copy here.

Class Is In Session!

I have two classes coming up with the Porch this June! These classes are offered via Zoom so you can take them from anywhere, even if you’re not in Nashville.

The Alternative Guide to Publishing: Paths Beyond the Big 5

Monday, June 9
6:00-8:00 PM Central

Online via Zoom
$51 for Porch members / $60 for non-members

The traditional publishing world—dominated by the "Big 5" (the five largest publishing houses)—often involves securing a literary agent and following a specific path to publication. But there are many other ways to bring your book to life, whether it's a novel, memoir, short story collection, or poetry chapbook. This class explores alternatives to traditional publishing, including direct submissions to publishers without an agent (non-agented submissions), working with independent (indie) publishers, pursuing hybrid publishing models (a blend of traditional and self-publishing), partnering with non-profits or academic presses, and other creative options to get your work into print.Through an engaging presentation, you’ll gain a clear understanding of these paths, their advantages and challenges, and which might be right for you. Following the presentation, guided exercises will help you map out possible publishing routes for your manuscript. The session concludes with an open Q&A to address specific questions about your own project.

Sign up here.

The Librarian's Guide to Finding Comps

Monday, June 16
6:00-8:00 PM Central

Online via Zoom
$51 for Porch members / $60 for non-members

Comparative titles, also known as “comps,” are essential tools for writers preparing to pitch their book to an agent or pursue alternative publishing paths. Comps give prospective readers, agents, or editors an immediate sense of the flavor, tone, and audience for your work. A well-chosen comp helps agents position your book when pitching to editors, while giving editors the context they need to champion your project and close the deal. But how do you find the right comps? Led by a librarian who specializes in connecting readers to books, this workshop will include a short presentation and hands-on exercises. You’ll learn how to use library tools and resources to uncover strong comps and analyze examples of effective comp title usage. Whether you’re preparing a query letter, proposal, or pitch, this class will help you identify comps that make your project shine. A final Q&A will provide time to address your specific questions.

Sign up here.

Hot Off The Presses

I published two pieces last month-ish to share with you!

“This Small Town Kolache Family Wants To Become A Dynasty” for Texas Monthly

I loved getting to go back to my hometown to report on a long-time family bakery that is quickly making waves across Central Texas. And yes, truly, there is no kolache dough sweeter and more refined than a Weikel’s kolache.

Last fall, I returned to my hometown of La Grange for the ultimate small-town experience: watch a high school football game, ride the Ferris wheel with my crush at the county fair, and catch sweets tossed from floats rolling through the downtown parade. Except when I reached out my hand to catch a flying morsel, I hadn’t caught candy—I caught a kolache.
I watched fellow paradegoers mow down their own kids to get the airborne pastries, and when I bit into my own hard-won catch, still warm from the oven, I wasn’t surprised about the fervor. The kolache came from Weikel’s.

“With Love From The 56” for Nashville Scene

When my car broke down last fall, I was relegated to the bus. It turned out to be a delight. And the better delight is that the mayor of Nashville himself said he was proud of me for writing this piece. Thanks dad!

Public spaces, like the bus or the library, allow us to come as we are, regardless of who we are or how much we can pay. In a public space, we can’t always avoid people or situations that challenge us. Big Tech promised us a frictionless experience of life, forgetting that friction is what makes life worth living. And there is nowhere more full of life than a public space.

Books I read this month:

The Death of the Artist: How Creators Are Struggling to Survive in the Age of Billionaires and Big Tech by William Deresiewicz

The Writing Life by Annie Dillard

Careless People: A Cautionary Tale of Power, Greed, and Lost Idealism by Sarah Wynn-Williams *** (Big time recommended read)

Parting Shot(s):

Obligatory desk at Rivendell picture.
Why yes, it WAS incredible, yet again.

So long, farewell!

(Psst… Like what you read in this newsletter? Toss a tip in the virtual tip jar.
Venmo: @lisa-bubert)