At one point, I had a story accepted at the 'New Yorker,' which sent off weird bells in people when I told them - 'Oh,' they thought, 'now you are a writer' - where I really had been for the last 30-odd years.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
I wanted to be a literary writer, so I wrote story after story and sent them to 'The New Yorker.'
'Royal Beatings' was my first story, and it was published in 1977. But I sent all my early stories to 'The New Yorker' in the 1950s, and then I stopped sending for a long time and sent only to magazines in Canada. 'The New Yorker' sent me nice notes, though - penciled, informal messages. They never signed them. They weren't terribly encouraging.
What I find curious is that I ever became a writer at all. I grew up in the South Bronx, the land of poverty and petty hoodlums.
I seem to only write New York stories because it's the only thing that inspires or interests me.
I've been writing stories, in one form or another, since I was a kid.
I think I always knew I would be a writer some day, but it wasn't until I was grown and had children of my own that I turned to telling Native American stories.
In many ways, I've been writing personal stories all my life.
In New York I was always so scared of saying that I wrote fiction. It just seemed like, 'Who am I to dare to do that thing here? The epicenter of publishing and writers?' I found all that very intimidating and avoided writing as a response.
I have written stories since I was a child.
All the stories I write come from someone I've met or some anecdote I've heard.