Novel Revisions, Teaching and Surviving NYC Summer—Writer Diary
Danielle Lazarin is the author of the short story collection BACK TALK. Her essays and stories have appeared in publications such as Literary Hub, The Southern Review, The Cut, Indiana Review, and Catapult’s Don’t Write Alone. A teacher and writing coach, she lives in Upper Manhattan with her husband, two kids (15, 12), and a very stubborn dog named June. Her summer persona is going all in on revising her novel. You can follow along with her process on her Substack, Talk Soon, every 2 weeks till it’s done and read more about her and her work at www.DanielleLazarin.com. She’s excited to be running a cohort for MFA applicants this fall with Write or Die.
This diary represents a week of teaching, novel revision, and surviving a NYC summer.
Sunday, July 16th
7:45 am: Get up, do yoga, new tattoo care I got last week. Come downstairs and marvel at the absolute mess of my apartment that I will ignore as long as possible this week. Writing over housework is the key to working at home.
8:45: Coffee, breakfast. I try not to be on Instagram on the weekends, but fail, but am mostly in DMs talking books with a writer friend so it’s somewhat redemptive?
9:45: Dog walk in what becomes pouring rain with husband. We meet a nice couple from Minnesota who moved here recently with their dog. I love meeting strangers, love small talk, which for me is a sort of collecting human relations. My friend KC calls this fictioning. It is my only sport. Run into our friend Lauren with her dogs. Baby skunk on the field narrowly misses most dogs but gets Lauren’s dog Leroy. Another day in the wilds of northern Manhattan. June (our dog) is skunk-free but covered in mud. Gets a bath.
11:15: Decide to make waffles. Figure out some camp details for 12 year old. Clean up my desk so I can use it. Husband and kid go out into the rain to get her sneakers in time for camp (which is tomorrow). Growing feet! Shower, get dressed.
12:45 pm: Make slides for my Reverse Outlining class, which is tomorrow. I’ve taught this method before, but it always needed more space, first time I’m teaching it as a standalone. I’ve been taking notes on it for a good while, but have yet to convert that to a teaching plan. A year ago starting the teaching plan this late would fill me with panic, but I’ve learned that the closer I make the actual plan to the class itself, the tighter and smoother the class is. That said, I’d hoped to do more of this last week, but it was packed with various appointments, family celebrations, camp performances, and so on. So here I am, working on a Sunday. That I could do something like take an entire midweek day last week to get a tattoo though, that’s a perk of being a writer, the blessing and the curse of having no real schedule.
Unfortunately, I spend this first hour of work considering learning Power Point. No, decide I’ll change the color scheme of the Google Slides presentation instead. The one I haven’t finished. Spend too much time on that. It looks really good though.
1:45 pm: Finally getting going on content when 15 year old requests lunch help. Alarms start going off; I would not remember to do much without alarms, so an alarm is always going off. Realize I’m also hungry, eat a cold piece of chicken from last night’s dinner.
Defrosting something for the kid is taking forever. Eat a second piece of chicken. The dog is depressed I’m not sharing. Alarm goes off two more times. I’m always snoozing the alarms.
2:05: Back at the desk, do the thing the alarm told me to, which is buy software I need on big sale, which becomes a maze of things that I give up on for now.
2:30: Back to slides.
3:30: Break for snacks, doing nothing-ness. Attempt at a nap. I am bad at naps so I don’t actually sleep.
4:45: More slide work. They always take longer than I anticipate, but it makes teaching so much easier to have a visual component—for myself as a teacher and for the students. It’s insurance against the speed at which I talk and the way I tend to cover too much ground.
5:00: Walk June
5:25: SLIDES SLIDES SLIDES SLIDES
7:00: Venture outside to go get mayo, which we need for dinner. Eat dinner. After, dinner plan for the week with husband which is the activity I hate the most out of weekend tasks but makes the week run smoothly. Put on a surprise episode of Normal Gossip to do dishes to. Bless this podcast. Cackling.
8:30: I’m stand on an amazing spiky mat while watching television years old. We’re watching Ted Lasso. Wonder why everyone leaves their front doors open on the show. Am I missing something about how one enters English apartments?
11pm: Bed! Read a bit of Edan Lepucki’s Time’s Mouth, which I have an ARC of, and is super fun and engrossing. Have trouble falling asleep, brain spinning.
Monday, July 17th
7:00 am: Wake up, morning pages, which I’m inconsistent on but take a something over nothing approach to. Do braids on kid for first day of camp, followed by sunscreen assistance. Yoga, breakfast. Do calendar for the week while I have coffee, listening to the CHANI weekly forecast, and small tasks: rescheduling appointments (my family seems to live at the dentist), ordering buckets of sunscreen, etc. Shower, lotion my tattoo which is in the equally gross and fascinating peeling stage. Think about how wild bodies are.
10:15: At desk after checking in on teen who’s home this week, and dog, who is happy she is. Get back to these slides, aided by coffee. Still able to drink it hot, so it’s still bearable in my apartment. End up scanning in more samples from my own work, which is tricky. Both because I’m trying to keep my current project under wraps for a bit and because my early drafts are full of missteps like everyone else’s. But also I’m teaching a method I use all the time, and want to share that we’re all pretty much doing the same things: figuring things out, writing sentences we think are not so great, having moments of stuckness or feeling like we don’t know what to do next. This sort of transparency has become a centerpoint of my teaching and coaching.
11:45: Break for iced coffee, help kid with lunch.
12:00 pm: Futz with visuals on slides.
12:45: Lunch
1:20: Decide to take a break by editing a doc for my husband. Copyediting: so soothing.
1:50: One last look at slides. Editing, rearranging, questioning. Have half as many as I usually do, which is good. Our groceries come. Teen helps me put them away. Notice my hair looks insane, post that on Instagram. My transparency extends to my hair days, too.
3:00: Read a letter from a friend I’ve been hoarding. Listen to a voice note from another friend while I pick up all the weird stuff in my foyer/living room I don’t want to be on camera while I teach, mostly shoes and shredded dog toys.
3:20: Walk dog, finagle a last minute class enrollment, try desperately not to itch the hell out of my tattoo.
5-7:00 pm: Teach! Actually, for once, run ahead of schedule. Have I finally learned how to not overstuff a class? I hope so. I get filled with so much worry over teaching: am I doing enough, am I clear, is this valuable, etc., but when I’m doing it it’s fun and rewarding, always. I’m floored that people show up to learn from me, that they bring their work to my brain. It’s nice to see returning students, some old friends (my friend Neela and I met in college workshops, one of my earliest and best readers, still is), and to feel mildly useful. While they’re working on their reverse outlines I turn on the a/c, load the dishwasher, remind my kid to do her laundry. Life: all simultaneous all the time.
7:00: Water plants on the terrace with dog who I sometimes think of as escorting me to get air. Dinner, decompression evening with husband. My brain is a mess post teaching. Ted Lasso finale.
11:15pm: Bed.
Tuesday, July 18th
7:15 am: Camp braids, yoga, breakfast, coffee. Instagram (ugh), sort through some feedback emails. I’d asked students to actually send me detailed feedback, as the first time I teach is always an experiment, and while my ego loves the 5 star ratings I also really want to know what students didn’t get that they expected or wanted. Appreciate how many folks wrote in, mostly with useful stuff. Start the laundry I’ve been trying to get to for half a week. Admire the laundry room discard book shelf. Shower, write teaching related emails. Send relevant slides to my class. Add in the note I hate to but feel I have to, about how teaching is my income and please don’t circulate my slides. Teaching on Zoom opens up so much geographical range that I think is really great for access but I have noticed how many people assume the class materials are part of the fees, or that I would send recordings (which I don’t do). The online course is a tricky space to teach in.
11:30: Work on my newsletter draft. I’ve been sharing my novel revision process in my Substack, Talk Soon, every two weeks this summer. It’s been fun, and good for me to finally get that on a schedule.
12:15: Lunch! DM with student from last night’s class about how helpful it was to her. Me and my ego love to hear it.
1 pm: Finally sitting down to work on fiction. Would prefer a nap. But it’s been too long.
Half hour in, decide I have to transfer money for my taxes to my savings account right now. It only takes like 2 minutes. Back to it.
There’s a regular beeping that I’m pretty sure is coming from outside my apartment and is making me slowly lose my mind. Still, I have an hour to work before I have to get ready to leave, so back to it. In the groove when the kid walks into the living room and starts talking and I remind her I’m working and get a bit snappy. I was in an emotionally rough section (a bit of a breakthrough actually)—and the timing could not have been worse. My desk is in the middle of our open-plan apartment. It’s fine when I’m home alone. But also good to have these conversations with the kids when this sort of thing happens. They’re pretty good about it overall. Today, I feel good about the work even if not about the time I could give it.
3:00: Walk my obstinate dog. It’s the heat we think, but she’s not into going very far these days. Picks a sidewalk spot and just sits there. After dragging her around the block, get ready to go out for the night to see Jenny Lewis. What will I wear to an outdoor concert when it’s supposed to thunderstorm and I have to stand the whole time? The same black tank top I always wear to concerts apparently (I wore it to both Haim and Taylor Swift this year, I realize, embarrassing!), sneakers because I’m not a dummy.
4:10: Leave to meet husband for dinner. Listen to music on the train. Dinner is great---I have celiac disease, and have to eat gluten free and avoid cross contamination, and it was a totally gluten free sushi spot that is the dreamiest. Had a gluten free beer that was actually good, which happens like once a year. It didn’t rain, so we walk a bit before getting on the train.
6:45: Get to concert. On the way, ask my husband how many people he thinks we’ll see that we know. I have a talent (?) for this. Within 3 minutes see someone I know from social media, and then a former student who I adore (hi Julia!), and then 4 other people throughout the night, including some neighbors. While we wait for Jenny Lewis to come on I invent backstories for various couples to entertain my husband (or myself, who are we kidding). What number date they’re on, if they really like the other couple they’re with, etc. Fictioning again! This sort of thing rarely becomes a basis for characters, but it’s a fun exercise in observing dynamics and building muscles of connecting dots. The concert itself is good—Lewis and her band are incredible—though the crowd is definitely low energy. I spend way too much time wondering how I used to do this—go to concerts without seats---all the time in my 20s. My legs are tired.
10:15ish: We travel from the true south end of Manhattan to the true north end, with various subway luck including getting a train right away, and then the a/c being out and skipped stops and teens from abroad who absolutely do not know how to occupy a crowded subway car.
11:45: Blessed sleep.
Wednesday, July 19th
7:00 am: Setting an alarm to make camp braids feels insane but also, parenting. Morning pages, yoga.
8:45: Coffee, plan for the day, emails to students. Help the teen with a few morning things.
9:30-11:45: Newsletter drafting. Dog is kicking all the pillows around the couch till she is comfortable like the diva she is. Put in all the links, break to shower, send!
12:15: Lunch, posting newsletter to Instagram. Get sucked into scrolling.
1-1:45 pm: Attempt a quick nap, am crashing from being up past my bedtime too many nights.
2:00: Iced coffee, snack, back to the desk.
3:30: Walk obstinate dog
4-5:00 pm: Nearly finish a chapter section. A paragraph left to tackle, but it’s got the big things in it I don’t have figured out, so I leave it for tomorrow.
5:15: Meet my friend Carla for a walk. We’ve been trying to do this for approximately 6 years. She lives around the corner. We’re so proud of ourselves.
7:30: Dinner.
8:30: Fold laundry, listen to 60 Songs That Explain the 90s episode on PJ Harvey who I was not cool enough to listen to when I lived through the 90s.
9:00: Chill with husband. We start watching this very entertaining show about competitive wine people called Drops of God. It’s French and Japanese and very fun.
10:50 pm: Should have gone up to bed an hour ago. Read more of the Lepucki, which keeps me up till 11:30.
Thursday, July 20
Woken up by the blender running, 6:30ish. At least there will be a smoothie for me. Morning pages. Think I have found a way to use my giant Post It’s in my revision. Till now, they were just my panic revision office supply purchase. There’s always one. Come down to do braids and a bit of a crisis. Kids back is really bothering her. She’s doing the camp based on the Piercy Jackson books and is outside all day (fake)sword fighting. Talking her through it. Have a close friend who I do Pilates with and text her for recs on stretches.
Consider late drop off. Set kid up with heating pad. Yoga, shorter than I’d planned but you know, back health on my mind so something over nothing. Writing—living!—is hard on the body. It took me too long to understand that. Maintenance matters. Heating pad seems to help but we all decide it’s best if she stays back today for a reset.
8:45 am: Coffee, drink the smoothie. Make a compote for a cake tonight, when my parents are coming to dinner. Clean up a bit, check in on kid. Listen to detailed voice notes on stretches for kid from friend. Shower. Check in on kid again who seems to be doing better. Dog is very happy both children are home and has camped out on the bed while they watch The OC.
11:00: Finally at my desk with coffee. It’s been a morning. I wrap up a chapter section, and am really happy with it. Work has been slow but feels really solid lately.
12:00 pm: Lunch, therapy.
1:30: Make the cake part of cake, trade voice memos with a friend, listen to music while I bake. A soothing part of my day, though I am eager to get back to work
2:15: Back at desk. Notecard checks—my system is explained a bit in my newsletter, but making sure I’m getting through my to dos for each chapter. The book is told from essentially 4 points of view, and each one has a section in the chapter. I’m on the 4th one of this first chapter, and it’s a mess I’m trying to put into some semblance of order. After reading through the printed pages I’ve been using, marking up some key entry points for scene/sequencing, I feel like have an attack plan. Open document, cake timer beeps. Rest of the afternoon work goes pretty smoothly. I dip back into a source, and start making good headway on the last section here. Though at the end I realize there’s an entire section from another chapter I’d planned on working in here that I nearly forgot about. Make myself a big note about it before shutting down.
4:00: Gotta walk the obstinate dog.
4:30: Clean up apartment to level of parents coming for dinner (aka minimal). Make more cake components.
6:30: Dinner with parents. Dog is being a pain in the ass. Incessantly barking for attention. She doesn’t do this when it’s just us. Cake is gooood. After, realize dog had no water. I never feel as low as a human as when my dog runs out of water. It’s like my only job. Fill it penitently. Clean up. We have drawer dishwashers, which means we essentially have two (smaller) ones and we were without a dishwasher for over 5 years, through the pandemic and also with two of us having celiac disease (cross-contamination with gluten is a big issue; a dishwasher really helps) we cook 99.9% of our meals at home and a year out from our renovation being done and the dishwashers being in it still thrills me every time I run it. It has made life so much easier.
Post my cake to the grid on Instagram because it’s good to not have my entire grid be printed pages and class listings. I have two IG accounts, one on which I post my kids/more personal things, and the public-facing writer account. With time I use the personal one less and less. I don’t know if it’s because I post my kids less as they grow or if I’m becoming more of the writer person in the world and that’s where I feel more urges to communicate. Maybe because I don’t actually want to put super personal stuff on social media at all? My feed is mostly paper drafts and my messy desk. Sometimes the dog. My classes. Clouds. The essentials. Perpetually thinking about taking a break but also it’s fine.
Watch the wine show again. Wow, it is ridiculous and great and mostly in French, which gives it so much more license with me to be absurd.
11:00 pm: Go to bed thinking I need to get to bed earlier. Again. Read more of the Lepucki before falling asleep.
Friday, July 21st
6:00 am: Husbands alarm gets me (though not him; he hits snooze). My brain could/should go back to sleep for a bit, but instead it spends the next hour fretting about future classes, income streams, starts drafting emails and other things I really don’t want to be thinking about.
7:00: Morning pages, camp braids, hang with 12 year old. Laugh at ridiculous camp emails written in the tone of half-gods. Love how they go all in.
8:00: Yoga, breakfast, shower, feed dog.
9:15: Teen wakes up, announces she’s slept 12 hours. She’s very proud. Everyone in my family has a 7am internal alarm so it’s a feat. I am also jealous. Turn on the A/C.
9:30: At desk, dog is barking at me for no reason. Give her a bully stick, hope that chills her out. Make my to do list for the day. All I have to do today, more or less, is write. That hasn’t happened on any day this week, so that’s nice. I’m tired. Read and reply to some emails, IG comments. People have been so kind about the revision newsletters—and I’m happy to hear they’re useful to people, as they feel so deeply internal to me, my methods, etc. It’s been a fun project, and also can feel vulnerable to expose process.
10:00: After contemplating rearranging the family budgeting system, I get to work. See that note I left for myself before shutting down yesterday. Would have forgotten.
10:30: Teen leaves, just me and the novel and the cranky dog for the rest of the day, for the first time in a while. Summer tends to be disrupted more than any other time of year; I’ve only learned to get less upset about it, not how to ease the disruptions.
11:00: Leave long voice note for friend, about art and commerce and procrastination and being alone.
12:30 pm: Lunch, sucked into IG.
1:00: Run some errands. It is muggy AF outside but I need to move a bit. Grocery store, check mail for a friend out of town, pet store, murder three lantern fly nymphs. Feel accomplished.
2:15: Back at the desk. Sometimes it amazes me how much resequencing—not even editing, just moving around--sentences affects the storytelling. Feel like I’m solving one of those puzzles they make people do on Survivor or something. Pretty sure I have now cut the lines that were the first ones I wrote for this novel. There is a chance they will be re-purposed later—there’s key info in them! They have a great hook!—but for now, they aren’t working in the chapter. They’re thematically quite strong, but it might be too much to give away at the top.
Do a giant to do list with the giant Post-Its. Read my chapter section over, with potato chips. Kid home from camp at 4:30. Read with baby carrots. Dog is staring me down but trying to get through and be done before the weekend. Done! I still feel eh about the last section but I think overall it’s in good shape. Next week: chapter 2, back to working on paper.
5:00: Husband comes home. Walk the obstinate dog, meet teen at train.
5:30: Listen to The Yellow Wallpaper on audio; not sure I’ve ever read it? Maybe in college? Maybe not? And play games on my phone, trying to turn my brain off.
7:00: On Friday nights, we eat dinner (mostly pasta) in front of a show. We’re on the Top Chef finale tonight. Next up is the latest season of Queer Eye or maybe The Dog House, next season of Heartstopper when it comes out.
8:45: Wash dishes. Make compote for second round of cake I’m bringing to a friend tomorrow. Watch Drops of God. I’m into it. Very fun.
10:45 pm: Up to bed. Chance I will be asleep before 11:30?
Saturday, July 22nd
7:15 am: Dog wakes us by whining. Manage to fret in bed for another hour.
8:15: Yoga, coffee, breakfast. DM with writer on IG about process, residency fears, story subs
9:00: Make another cake. Music on. Think about how posting the baking process is like posting the draft process. I get excited about things coming together.
10:30: Farmers market with husband.
12:30 pm: My dad picks me and the 15 year old up. He’s graciously lending me his car so I can get to Connecticut.
2ish: Land at friend’s house. She’s a visual artist and I always love talking process with her. Teen hangs with her toddler while we talk raising kids and making art, Jerry Saltz book, life choices, etc., etc. Eat dinner, and more cake!
9:30 pm: Teen goes to bed. Peruse all the books in the house; my friend is a huge reader. We met this way, through books. Decide my brain is too tired to read fiction. But always the best feeling to see someone else’s bookshelf. Like peering inside their central programming. Scroll in the quiet. Bed at 10:30! I did it! I went to bed before 11:30. So proud.
Week in photos
