File Purging

Many members of the crime fiction writing community spent this past weekend at Bouchercon in Calgary. I spent it cleaning out my files.

The recycle bin is full, and I still have a
three-foot-tall stack of paper to shred.

In my file room are six five-drawer filing cabinets containing folders for every article, essay, poem, or story I’ve ever written. Each folder contains a hardcopy of the final draft, copies of contracts and editorial correspondence, and other related material such as original calls for submission and research materials. Most also contain a copy of the anthology or periodical containing the published piece.

That’s more than 1,300 published short stories, dozens of articles and essays, and a handful of poems. One drawer contains almost 150 manuscripts that never sold and will likely never again be submitted. (In my writing office, and not subject to this weekend’s cleaning, are another 50 or so manuscripts that are either currently under submission or will be once I find suitable markets.)

Additionally, one drawer contains every rejection I’ve ever received.

Because my files fill so much space, two years ago I upgraded from six four-drawer filing cabinets to six five-drawer cabinets, and even the extra six drawers ultimately proved inadequate to contain everything. So, I’ve spent the weekend doing a deep dive into the content of all those files.

It turns out, not everything was worth saving. In some folders I had three and four drafts rather than just final drafts. In some, I found research material—copies of articles about Viking swords, menopause, muscle cars, handguns, anatomy, clothing, history, and much more—that I no longer need. So, much of the extraneous material—once it is shredded—is headed for the recycling bin.

While I have gained the equivalent of, maybe, three drawers worth of space, I’m uncertain how much longer it will be until that space is filled and I’ll need to either purge more files or find a place for yet another filing cabinet.

WHAT ABOUT A HIGH-TECH SOLUTION?

When I mention my cram-packed filing cabinets to other (usually much younger) writers, I’m often advised to scan everything so I only have to keep electronic files.

That’s a nice idea but imagine the cost in time (if I do it myself) or money (if I hire sometime to do it for me).

Also, consider the speed at which technology changes.

When I first became a writer, I used a typewriter. Since making the switch to writing on computers, I’ve saved files on 5.25” floppy disks that I can no longer read, 3.5” diskettes that I can no longer read, and Zip drives that I can no longer read. And many files on the CDs I can still read were created with programs that are either defunct or which I no longer have access to, or they were compressed to save disk space and will no longer decompress.

What can I still read?

Paper.

Short of a house fire, my paper records will be readable long after my demise.

And, I still have too much paper, even after this weekend’s purge.