Guest Post on Write1Sub1.com

March 7, 2012

Sorry the blog hasn’t been very active lately. I was away for a family vacation in Key Largo, FL, where I enjoyed all sorts of cool stuff such as kayaking, visiting an alligator farm, and watching awesome sunsets like this one:

 

I did not, however, get a nearly as much writing done a I would have liked. And now I’m preparing for yet another trip next week, to a conference in Las Vegas. Will this cut into my writing time? Almost certainly. I’m trying to make up for it as much as possible this week, and I’m definitely keeping up with writing one new story per week so far, but I’m not racing ahead of my self-imposed schedule with submissions and writing as I have been in the first six weeks of the year.

 

 

Some of that “getting ahead” writing included penning a guest blog for Write1Sub1.com which went live today. It’s about the submission metrics and I make the case for setting yourself clear submission goals in addition to word count/story total goals. My 2012 submission total stands at 48 as of today, well ahead of the benchmarks I set for myself at the beginning of the year. If I continue at this pace, I may just have to challenge myself with a higher submission goal. Would 366 submissions be utterly insane? That’s one for every day of this leap year. I won’t commit to that just yet, but will reexamine my goals in another month or so to make sure they’re ambitious enough to make me work harder, yet achievable.

 


Jake Kerr’s Eleven Rules On How To Get Great Critiques

February 24, 2012

 

Jake Kerr recently wrote an incredibly insightful post on Codex Writers–a private forum both of us belong to.  He graciously allowed me to share it here. Jake’s novelette “The Old Equations” was recently nominated for a Nebula Award. You can visit his website at www.jakekerr.com

 

1. Cast your net wide.

What’s better than two critiques? Four critiques. What’s better than four critiques? Eight critiques. When you start, your goal should be to identify a stable of people who will have a keen eye on identifying the mistakes that you consistently make but can’t seem to catch yourself. I call these blind spots, because they don’t indicate that you are a poor writer. They just indicate areas where your personal shit detector appears to be broken. These are different for everyone, which is why one person’s awesome critiquer is another person’s waste of time.

The good news is that you can find good critiquers anywhere. Ken Liu asks for people to critique his stuff on Twitter. I’ve done the same and found at least one person that has provided me with awesome feedback. That said, there are places you should ask for critiques with knowledge that the quality will most likely be better–fellow Codexians, online groups like Critters or OWW, local critique groups, etc. The point is that you’re looking far and wide for people that aren’t afraid to point out things you haven’t noticed.

I have had dozens of people critique my work. I’m down to a group of 5-7 now that I send stuff, too, but I will occasionally cast that net out again via Twitter or Codex or what have you. Because it is my belief that a few more strokes with the whetstone will always make the blade sharper.

2. ASK FOR CRITIQUES.

The great thing about the writing community is that we’re generally a supportive and helpful bunch. Our instincts are that we LIKE to help others. We LOVE to see writers improve. So you, as a writer, need to tap into that, and you can’t be passive about it. Ask someone to critique your work. Don’t be shy. They’ll say “no” if they don’t have time. Browse the Codex critique folder. Read the critiques of others. If someone is saying something that resonates as something you need to hear, contact them directly and ask them to critique your work.

Don’t be annoyed if people say, “No.” Some will, of course, and that’s their right, and you should respect that. But just because the first four people you ask say “no” doesn’t mean that they resent you for asking or that it is a wasted exercise. This is obviously not limited to Codex. I’m sure you have friends that are writers. You should ask them. You should ask them if they have someone they like using. Again, don’t be shy. This is all part of casting your net wide, and has been mentioned in another thread, fishing in the fertile waters can be very helpful.

3. Identify your weaknesses and focus on the people who are very good at identifying them.

We’re all neo-pros here. We should have at least a halfway decent personal shit detector. We know we have flaws, but it SO DAMN HARD TO IDENTIFY THEM. The good news is that when people point them out it’s like someone turned the light on in a room where you were squinting to see. It’s suddenly, “Holy shit, that’s exactly what this story was missing. HOW DID I MISS THAT?” Those are the people who will help you the most.

4. Ignore all the general advice like “If eight people point it out, it’s probably a flaw. If two do, it’s probably not.” This and similar advice is kinda bullshit.

Focus on two points: 1) Is the critical comment supported by the critiquer in a compelling way and 2) Does it just plain make sense to you. This isn’t a democracy. It’s a method of refining art where some people are just better than others.

So, it’s entirely possible that only one or two of the people critiquing your work have a halfway decent shit detector. It’s entirely possible that you have eight critiquers that just love the story and don’t mind that the characters are wooden or that the gap between scene two and three doesn’t make sense because, dammit, they just love when the princess proves to be a badass and when you did that thing in scene four it made everything else right. Uh, no it didn’t. Be happy you have a kickass scene four, but if ONE person says your scene two to scene three transition makes no sense and you immediately go, “Oh yeah, that’s true.” Then follow the freakin’ advice of the one person. OR, if you don’t understand it instinctively but the critiquer provides plenty of evidence that seems to make sense, at least take a closer look at what he or she is saying.

5. Mercilessly prune people who give unhelpful critiques

If someone gives you an unhelpful critique they are wasting your time and theirs. Don’t ask them again for critiques, and if it’s a group setting where you are required to hear and receive their critiques, then just thank them and toss their critique in the trash or delete it.

Remember, the goal here isn’t to make friends. The goal is also not to be an asshole. So it is perfectly fine to be firm in narrowing down who will see your work, and this can certainly be done without being a jerk. If someone takes offense to it, then you just need to be prepared for that and file it away as their problem, not yours. I know this can be tough, but it’s really the only way to handle it.

Going back to point 3, if eight people LOVE your work, and their critiques make you feel good, but they don’t really help you. Those aren’t the ones you need. If two people identify things that the others don’t, and those things make you uncomfortable or ask questions that you have a hard time answering. Those are the ones who are probably being the most helpful.

6. Don’t ever send your edited manuscript back to the people who critique your work.

When someone critiques your work, they are emotionally invested in it. It is too easy for them to feel hurt if you ignored half of their advice. Never mind that the half you DID take could have been hugely beneficial, many people will be annoyed that you didn’t listen to everything they said. The reality is that you should make your critiquers feel like they are being helpful. After all, you’ve already pruned all the unhelpful ones, right? But you certainly don’t need to justify that by showing them that you’ve taken 20% of their suggestions last time, and this time you took 40%.

This can be difficult when someone specifically asks to see the edited document, but you should still just say, “No.” There is absolutely no reason for them to see it. Their job was to help you, and they did that. They may ask you where you are submitting the story, and it’s fine to tell them, but if a critiquer becomes someone who is constantly asking you for updates, then you know that he or she is WAY too invested in your work. That’s not healthy in a critiquer, and–even if they’ve been helpful–you should consider not using them any more.

You don’t need drama and people identifying with your success as an author. You need a cold ruthless eye wielding a word scalpal who is invested in good stories.

7. Don’t give your next draft back to the same critiquers who read the first draft.

This is basically the same as No. 5, but I want to underscore that it is even true for when you go through multiple rounds of edits. When someone critiques a piece, they have just put themselves in the same role you have–they have become invested in the piece and lost objectivity. Their second glance will be more focused on “Did he or she listen to my advice” and less on “is this a better piece.” Certainly there are exceptions, but this is human nature, and it is perhaps unfair for someone to not judge a revised work based solely on how much you took his or her advice. Besides, a fresh set of eyes is always helpful.

8. Don’t focus on efficiency, focus on results.

If you have a critiquer who provides you with 95% crap advice, but on one specific thing where you have trouble, they are incredibly helpful, keep them and embrace them. There is no acceptable percentage of edits that you need to integrate into a piece. The acceptable number is how many improve the piece. The key is just that–are you getting advice that improves the piece.

So be ruthless not just in pruning bad critiquers, be ruthless in pruning irrelevant advice from good critiquers. This happens all the freaking time, and if your expectation is that you’re getting bad critiques because everyone is giving you some bad advice, then I have a secret for you: EVERYONE will give you bad advice. The good news is that quite a few people also give you good advice while giving you bad advice. Your job is to be comfortable with ignoring the irrelevant from the important.

This is another reason why not to give edited manuscripts back to critiquers, by the way. If their expectation is that you’ll take all of their advice, they’re going to be disappointed. If you took 100% of the advice of even one critiquer, you probably made a mistake.

9. If everyone is giving you horrible critiques, then you probably need to re-think your own critical eye.

Just like you should never expect a critiquer to be 100% perfect, you should not expect a large number of critiquers to be 100% wrong, too. Odds are in those circumstances that you are too emotionally invested in your work to accept objective criticism.

A huge indicator of this is if you get defensive over specific critiques. It’s certainly acceptable to laugh when someone incorrectly changes the spelling of a word you used, but if you find yourself getting upset over an issue and the critiquer is presenting you with a logical reason for his or her critique, you really need to take a step back and examine whether you actually are right. Ultimately, if you are going through critique after critique and getting frustrated at how bad they all are at misunderstanding your skillful narrative complexities or how it is just sad how biased every critiquer is in defining a character as a stereotype when you created her to be a robust anti-stereotype, then you should take a hard look at yourself.

10. If improving yourself isn’t a big goal, then don’t bother with critiques.

If it is more important (and fun!) for you to just write a story and toss it out there, devil may care, then you probably shouldn’t even embrace critiques. They are time-consuming and clearly add a layer of effort to your writing that wouldn’t exist otherwise. If they kill the fun, then just don’t do them. The joy of writing should always be paramount, at least to me.

11. Return the favor

While you should treat critiques with ultimate selfishness, you should not treat the relationship with your critquers that way. In fact, you should be just as responsive to them as they are to you. And remember the rules above–do your best to provide the best critique possible, but don’t become invested in the critique to such a degree that you feel that their work is yours. It isn’t. They may take your advice or they may not. Don’t sweat it. Just keep helping others as they help you. That’s the real spirit of the writing community.

 

 


2011 Nebula Nominations Announced

February 20, 2012

 

SFWA announced the 2011 Nebula nominations this morning, and here they are:

Novel

  • Among Others, Jo Walton (Tor)
  • Embassytown, China Miéville (Macmillan UK; Del Rey; Subterranean Press)
  • Firebird, Jack McDevitt (Ace Books)
  • God’s War, Kameron Hurley (Night Shade Books)
  • Mechanique: A Taleof the Circus Tresaulti, Genevieve Valentine (Prime Books)
  • The Kingdom of Gods, N.K. Jemisin (Orbit US; Orbit UK)

Novella

  • “Kiss Me Twice,” Mary Robinette Kowal (Asimov’s Science Fiction, June 2011)
  • “Silently and Very Fast,” Catherynne M. Valente (WFSA Press; Clarkesworld Magazine, October 2011)
  • “The Ice Owl,” Carolyn Ives Gilman (The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, November/December 2011)
  • “The Man Who Bridged the Mist,” Kij Johnson (Asimov’s Science Fiction, October/November 2011)
  • “The Man Who Ended History: A Documentary,” Ken Liu (Panverse Three, Panverse Publishing)
  • “With Unclean Hands,” Adam-Troy Castro (Analog Science Fiction and Fact, November 2011)

Novelette

  • “Fields of Gold,” Rachel Swirsky (Eclipse 4, Night Shade Books)
  • “Ray of Light,” Brad R. Torgersen (Analog Science Fiction and Fact, December 2011)
  • “Sauerkraut Station,” Ferrett Steinmetz (Giganotosaurus, November 2011)
  • “Six Months, Three Days,” Charlie Jane Anders (Tor.com, June 2011)
  • “The Migratory Pattern of Dancers,” Katherine Sparrow (Giganotosaurus, July 2011)
  • “The Old Equations,” Jake Kerr (Lightspeed Magazine, July 2011)
  • “What We Found,” Geoff Ryman (The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, September/October 2011)

Short Story

  • “Her Husband’s Hands,” Adam-Troy Castro (Lightspeed Magazine, October 2011)
  • “Mama, We are Zhenya, Your Son,” Tom Crosshill (Lightspeed Magazine, April 2011)
  • “Movement,” Nancy Fulda (Asimov’s Science Fiction, March 2011)
  • “Shipbirth,” Aliette de Bodard (Asimov’s Science Fiction, February 2011)
  • “The Axiom of Choice,” David W. Goldman (New Haven Review, Winter 2011)
  • “The Cartographer Wasps and the Anarchist Bees,” E. Lily Yu (Clarkesworld Magazine, April 2011)
  • “The Paper Menagerie,” Ken Liu (The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, March/April 2011)

Ray Bradbury Award for Outstanding Dramatic Presentation

  • Attack the Block, Joe Cornish (writer/director) (Optimum Releasing; Screen Gems)
  • Captain America: The First Avenger, Christopher Markus, Stephen McFeely (writers), Joe Johnston (director) (Paramount)
  • Doctor Who: “The Doctor’s Wife,” Neil Gaiman (writer), Richard Clark (director) (BBC Wales)
  • Hugo, John Logan (writer), Martin Scorsese (director) (Paramount)
  • Midnight in Paris, Woody Allen (writer/director) (Sony)
  • Source Code, Ben Ripley (writer), Duncan Jones (director) (Summit)
  • The Adjustment Bureau, George Nolfi (writer/director) (Universal)

Andre Norton Award for Young Adult Science Fiction and Fantasy Book

  • AkataWitch, Nnedi Okorafor (Viking Juvenile)
  • Chime, Franny Billingsley (Dial Books; Bloomsbury)
  • DaughterofSmoke andBone, Laini Taylor (Little, Brown Books for Young Readers; Hodder & Stoughton)
  • EverybodySeesthe Ants, A.S. King (Little, Brown Books for Young Readers)
  • TheBoyat theEndofthe World, Greg van Eekhout (Bloomsbury Children’s Books)
  • TheFreedomMaze, Delia Sherman (Big Mouth House)
  • TheGirlof FireandThorns, Rae Carson (Greenwillow Books)
  • Ultraviolet, R.J. Anderson (Orchard Books; Carolrhoda Books)

 

Huge congratulations to all the nominees. There’s lots of reading for me to do. As hard as I tried to read up for the short fiction categories, two of the seven nominated stories are new to me, and I can’t wait to get my hands on them.

And, in case you wonder what it feels like to get nominated for science fiction’s most prestigious award, check out Ferrett Steinmetz’s blog entry on this very subject.


My 2011 Nebula Awards Nominations

February 15, 2012

One of the cool things about joining SFWA is that I get to nominate my favorite fiction for the coveted Nebula Awards. Nebulas are voted on by the active SFWA members and are awarded in several different categories. I am not well-read enough to nominate longer fiction this year but made certain

There are tons of great stories published every year. I’m sure I haven’t read even 1% of works published in 2011 that are good enough to be considered for an award. So instead, I cheated. Other SFWA members are able to recommend their favorites on a private forum. Over the last week, I read as many of the stories recommended by at least three different people as I could access (some of them weren’t available online) and selected mostly among those. Of course, I also considered the stories that I read and enjoyed over the course of the year. My nominations were as follows:

The Paper Menagerie by Ken Liu (Fantasy & Science Fiction, 3 / 2011)

The Cartographer Wasps and the Anarchist Bees by E. Lily Yu (Clarkesworld, 4 / 2011)

Staying Behind by Ken Liu (Clarkesworld, 10 / 2011)

Like Origami in Water by Damien Walters Grintalis (Daily Science Fiction, 10 / 2011)

I Kill Monsters by Nathaniel Lee (Daily Science Fiction, 10 / 2011)

My overall best short story of 2011 pick Is “The Paper Menagerie” by Ken Liu. It’s beautifully written and emotionally powerful. Ken has had an amazing year and there are easily half a dozen stories of his that were strong contenders for my top 5 list, but I thought it only fair to leave a little room for other authors.

Daily Science Fiction has been providing my SF/F short story fix all year long, and I love a lot of the stuff they publish. I selected my favorites among both flash length stories (Like Origami in Water) and longer fare (I Kill Monsters) that they published in 2011. DSF is getting a cold shoulder from some reviewers due to the sheer volume of material they publish, but I’m confident we’ll be seeing more and more of their stories receive award nods.


The PEST Method

February 3, 2012

Ask an experienced writer where you should submit your stories, and they’ll invariably tell you to “start at the top, and work your way down.”

The logic behind this is perfectly solid. Even if you suspect that your story isn’t amazing, you may well be suffering from a common writer affliction: underestimating the quality of your work. So why do an editor’s job and self-reject? Let them see the story and decide for themselves.

But where, exactly, is this “top” you should start at? Is it based purely on the amount of payment offered? If this were the case, TOR.com would get to see every story first. Yet I have never submitted there, and possibly never will, because I can’t imagine waiting a year or more, at any venue. Instead, I consider a combination of factors when trying to decide which publication should have the privilege of rejecting my next story:

Prestige – How reputable/popular is the venue
Exposure – How many people will read the story if published
Speed – What’s the likely turnaround time
Terms – Which rights are sought

Let’s examine the PEST method, keeping in mind that I’m discussing speculative fiction only, which is why The New Yorker and its ilk aren’t mentioned below.

PRESTIGE

What publishing credit would you be the most proud of? In terms of respect, nothing comes close to the big three: Fantasy & Science Fiction, Asimov’s and Analog. They’re the gold standard, and it’s hard to make the case for sending a story which might be appropriate for one or more of those magazines elsewhere first.

The big three all pay professional rates, but prestige isn’t necessarily tied in to payment. There are a number of magazines that pay only a penny per word that are highly respected. Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet, Shimmer and Andromeda Spaceways are a few notable examples. I often submit to ASIM and Shimmer before sending the same story to higher paying venues.

New publications don’t get completely ignored under this method. Instead of considering the magazine/anthology’s history, I consider instead who the editors are and what their track record is in the industry. I was interested in aggressively submitting to Stupefying Stories right from the start, because it’s edited by Bruce Bethke. If there’s ever an open call for one of Mike Resnick’s anthologies, I’ll be eagerly writing a new story from scratch just to have something I can send in.

EXPOSURE

I care about how many people will ultimately read my story. Every author does. So when the time comes to submit, I am more likely to send my work to a publication with a large readership than a higher-paying but obscure journal or anthology. Every Day Fiction pays token rates, but they provide more exposure than most online markets. I gladly submit to them, and will continue to do so.

On the other hand, be wary of non-paying markets that boast about how appearing on their web site will help promote your brand and advance your writing career. It won’t. Most of those markets are read by a few hundred people, at best. And you won’t be doing yourself any favors mentioning the fact that you’ve been published by such in your cover letter. Things are a bit different on the literary fiction front, but when it comes to science fiction and fantasy, there aren’t any non-paying markets I can think of where I’d be interested in submitting original work.

SPEED

How long does a market take to respond to your submission? Some of the very best markets are also the fastest—Clarkesworld, Lightspeed, Daily Science Fiction, F&SF are among publications where most submissions are handled within days rather than months. There are dozens of other great markets that manage a turnaround of 4-6 weeks. It’s logical to submit to all of those before sending your story to Dark Discoveries, GUD or TOR.com where your submission is likely to languish for a year.

TERMS

In their desire to get published, writers often ignore the finer details of their contracts. There are a number of important details you should consider, before signing on the dotted line.

First, never give up the ownership of your work. Very few publications ask for it, but stay as far away as you can from the ones that do. Maintaining ownership will allow you to eventually sell your story to reprint markets, Best Of anthologies, Podcast ‘zines, etc. You might even hit a jackpot and have your story optioned for a movie or a screenplay. Or, perhaps, you simply want to make the story available for free on your blog. If you aren’t careful, you could forfeit all of those opportunities with a stroke of a pen.

Most reputable publishers won’t attempt to grab full rights. But you should read the contract carefully to see exactly which rights they do want. They’ll typically ask for a certain period of exclusivity. Obviously, you can’t do anything with your story until they publish it. In some cases, the rights will revert to you immediately upon publication and you can begin to submit elsewhere. In most cases however, they’ll want a period of exclusivity that can range from anywhere between a few months and a few years. I think anything up to a year is pretty reasonable. My personal upper limit is 18 months.

It’s very important to note that this period of exclusivity (be it 0 days or 2 years) typically begins on the date of publication, not when the contract is signed. In these cases you must make sure there’s a reversion clause in your contract.  A reversion clause states that the publisher has a limited amount of time to print your story. Without such clause, a publisher could hang on to your story indefinitely and you won’t get it back – even if you didn’t sell full rights.

This sort of thing doesn’t happen often. Most publishers mean well and operate in good faith. However, it doesn’t hurt to make sure reasonable terms are spelled out in the contract. If there’s something there that doesn’t sound right to you, it’s perfectly OK to ask the publisher if they’d be willing to alter it. After all, agents negotiate novel contracts with publishers all the time.

 

So there you have it – my method for ranking short story markets. Nothing earth-shattering, but hopefully there will be some glimmers there to help you figure out which editors to PESTer with your own submissions next.


Rejecting Faulkner

January 17, 2012

William Faulkner

 

Rejection sucks.

Every time an author gets that bit of bad news in their mailbox it stings a little. An author is sad and dejected. Unwelcome thoughts run through the back of his mind. Maybe the story is terrible. Or maybe it’s good, but it didn’t match the editor’s taste. Maybe it’s great, but they bought something similar recently. Then, there’s a tiny red guy with a pitchfork lounging on the author’s shoulder. It whispers: The editor is a fool who doesn’t recognize your genius.

Don’t listen to that voice. The latter is almost never the reason your story got rejected. Sure, there are notable exceptions. J.K. Rowling struggled to sell the first Harry Potter novel. James Patterson was rejected many times. But for every Rowling and Patterson there are hundreds of aspiring authors who get rejected because they aren’t good enough yet, because they haven’t thoroughly polished their manuscript, and for dozens of other, perfectly legitimate reasons.

Authors who eventually succeed learn to develop a thick skin when it comes to rejection. Shake it off, send the manuscript to the next market, and work harder on your next one. Those people who don’t handle rejection well end up quitting, including some who have the makings of a great writer. Then there are the angry, bitter writers who blame everyone and everything for their lack of success – except themselves.

Today I read an essay by G.D. McFetridge, who appears to be firmly in the “blame someone else” camp. The essay is titled “Show Us, Mr. Faulkner” and can be found in the winter 2011 issue of Mobius magazine.

To summarize, Mr. McFetridge submitted a slightly modified 4,000-word excerpt from William Faulkner’s “The Hamlet” to a slew of literary magazines, as an original short story. In the essay he proudly shares the rejection slips he got from slush readers and editors, and questions their competence for having rejected Faulkner.

This in itself isn’t really news. Every so often an exasperated writer tries this sort of a nasty trick on the magazines that have been rejecting him. No one except other exasperated, rejection-collecting authors is amused. You can guess how the editors and slush readers feel about this. (Spoiler: They dislike it. A lot.)

In the end, it proves nothing. Stories really are rejected for dozens of reasons. Each publication is seeking a certain kind of voice, style, something fresh. Any magazine worth its salt receives hundreds of submissions for every open slot in their table of contents and must, therefore, reject plenty of great stories. And these are real short stories we’re talking about–I question Mr. McFetridge’s wisdom in yanking a chunk of a 50-year old novel and hoping that Faulkner’s voice alone would magically make it work as a standalone piece.

G.D. McFetridge didn’t stop at plagiarizing Faulkner (yes, I know he wasn’t actually trying to steal somebody else’s work, but …). He went on to submit several stories published in prestigious anthologies under his own name and collected more rejection slips. He then impersonated famous authors and called editors on the phone, asking them to pull the work of his protégé out of the slush pile for a closer look.

He was then scandalized that they obliged.

In a nutshell, Mr. McFetridge’s point is that editors and slush readers at literary markets are incompetent, corrupt, and that a regular Joe has almost no chance of succeeding under this rigged system. To which I say: nonsense.

Let us examine what it is McFetridge decries as being wrong with the publishing word:

  • Big-name authors bypass the slush pile, their stories landing directly on the senior editor’s desk.

What’s wrong with that? They’re big-name authors because they have already proven their ability, by winning awards or by selling copy–either is a fine metric.  A-list Hollywood talent are asked to star in films–they don’t have to pass an audition the way newer actors must.

In speculative fiction magazines, there are many criteria that will get you past the slush reader. You may be an author whose work the editor already enjoys. Some magazines bump up SFWA members, or folks previously published by top markets. Some advance anyone who has attended a prestigious workshop like Viable Paradise or Clarion.

All of these are legitimate decisions that signify meritocracy rather than corruption.

  • Several editors were all-too-happy to pull a story from slush on a recommendation of a (fake) famous author.

Again, what’s wrong with this? If an accomplished author I like and respect suggests that another author’s work is amazing, I am likely to pay attention. This happens all the time – just look at the back of any book cover.

Mr. McFetridge brandishes this as evidence of a broken system, but in reality a recommendation from a mentor can only get a protégé so far. Once the manuscript lands on the editor’s desk it must stand on its own merit. Stephen King himself couldn’t endorse a fledgling author’s bad story strongly enough to get it published.

  • The game is rigged, and you must have some special connections to get published

This is really the crux of Mr. McFetridge’s essay, and the part I disagree with the most. He writes: “The Pretty People Review is open to all submissions, but be forewarned. We hand out special treatment to insiders and the chosen few—and if you ain’t one of them … tough nuggets!”

Yes, you can get special treatment from a magazine. In most cases, there’s good reason for it (as described above). But, in every case, getting past the slush pile will not guarantee a sale. The only way to do that is to submit a great story.

Every single one of those big-name writers the essayist is raging against started out in the slush pile. In his book “On Writing” Stephen King talks about years of rejections he endured early in his career. King, and others like him, made it in the publishing world based on their talent and hard work, and so can anybody, regardless of whatever special connections they may or may not possess.

Ironically, G.D. McFetridge’s own writing is pretty good (based solely on reading his essay). Sure, he could stand to learn the difference between “ascetic” and “aesthetic” (see paragraph 3), but nobody’s perfect. He will probably get published, if he keeps at it. Though, I bet, not by any of the venues he pranked.


2011 Writing Statistics and The Secret Formula for Getting Published

January 2, 2012

What a difference a year makes.

At the onset of 2011 I had two stories published in token-paying ‘zines. I set myself a nearly-unattainable goal of making ten more story sales by the end of the year. Not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I’d make pro-paying sales, join SFWA, and have a story of mine selected for use in a state-wide aptitude test by the NJ Board of Education. Meanwhile, I have friends whose imagination and writing ability blow me away — yet they still haven’t made their first sale.

So what’s my secret, you ask? I figured out and implemented an amazing strategy that resulted in the total of 19 story sales in 2011 (including stories submitted in late 2010). My secret formula is this:

1. Write lots of stories.

2. Submit them like crazy.

That’s it. That’s the big secret. Let’s go over that in detail:

1. Write lots of stories.

You must keep writing whether you feel like it or not, at the time. You must tinker with drafts you aren’t satisfied with and outline new ideas. You must add words to a story you’ve been slowly working on for months — even if you’re half-convinced at that point that your underlying idea is terrible and the writing is worse. By the time you’re finished, that might end up being one of the best stories you’ve ever written.

Writing on a regular basis makes you better at it. I look back at the stories I wrote a year ago, and I can see tangible improvement. I’m sure that will continue to be the case for a long time to come. Like any other craft, you hone your skills by practicing for hundreds of hours. You also tend to get rusty when you stop.

One good method for maintaining your creative output is to set yourself a daily writing goal. 500 words works for many people. That’s 500 new words — doing revisions and tinkering with your older manuscripts doesn’t count. If you’re an organized person with a stable schedule, you’ll be able to maintain a daily writing routine. You’ll also quickly discover a number that works for you. Some lucky souls can plug away at their keyboards and produce 1000 or even 2000 quality words a day. Others find 500 to be too challenging. If you are in the latter category, don’t despair. Even at 250 words written every day you can have an entire novel draft finished by the end of the year.

This works great if you’re in control of your schedule. Others have day jobs, family commitments, and other important stuff in their lives that may preclude them from writing daily. I belong firmly in this category. In this case, an initiative like Write1Sub1 may be an excellent substitute.

I joined W1S1 as it was being launched in late 2010, committing to write and submit a new story *every week* in 2011. While I have not always stuck to this schedule, it did constantly push me to increase my output. I made up for some skipped weeks with bursts of productivity and managed to finished an impressive number of stories in the past year — far more than I would have written without this self-imposed metric. Needless to say, I will continue to participate in Write1Sub1 in 2012, and you should consider it too.

2. Submit them like crazy.

As I wrote above, coming up with new material is the hard part. Submitting is easy. At least that’s the case for me. Other writers I know of have no problem writing new tales, but getting them to consistently submit their work for publication is more difficult than herding cats.

Some people have a hard time dealing with rejection (and there’s LOTS of rejection to be had, even if you’re a pro). Others struggle under the mountain of their creative inventory, uncertain of the status of their submissions, which stories have been to which markets, and which are idling in the dark corners of their hard drive.

Over the course of the previous year I’ve learned (or am still learning) the following facts about submissions:

* Never self-reject. If you think that your story might not be good enough for a specific magazine and you choose not to send it in, your end result is an equivalent of a rejection. If you *do* submit your story there, rejection becomes only a worst-case scenario.

* Submit your story to the best markets and continue to submit it until you run out places you can possibly stick it. Given the breadth of speculative fiction markets cataloged on sites like duotrope.com and ralan.com this shouldn’t happen for years. In the 18 months or so since I began writing, I have yet to retire a story (though I’ve tinkered with them plenty, to make sure that the level of writing in each story is the best I can currently manage)

* Don’t let a harsh personal rejection faze you. In 2011 I’ve had two separate instances where an editor rejected a story and ripped it to shreds in their comments — and then the story sold to the very next market I sent it to, with *zero* changes made. Just like with anything else in life, one editor’s trash is another editor’s treasure.

* Don’t be mad at the editors for “not getting” your story. You may disagree with them on the specific feedback they provide, but recognize that they took the time to make the comments in the first place. Every decent editor is inundated with hundreds of submissions. The fact that they offered you feedback instead of a form rejection is a gift, and should be treated as such.

* Don’t let the story languish on your hard drive. Send it out there. If you get a rejection, try to resubmit it somewhere else within 24 hours.

* New markets open all the time. If there isn’t a suitable market open for a particular story you have, chances are one will pop up in the next month or two. However, it’s even more likely that you haven’t looked hard enough. After a year and a half, I’m still discovering “new” places to submit to, all of which have been around far longer than I’ve been writing.

* Maintain a database tracking your submissions, so you always have a clear idea of where they’ve already been, and what isn’t out on submission at the moment.

So yeah — I’ve been submitting like crazy. In the past year I’ve made a total of 150 submissions (including reprints). Here are my annual statistics:

Submitted: 150

Currently out on submission: 18

Lost / Never responded: 2

Rejected: 114

Accepted: 16

The breakdown of accepted stories by market type:

Pro Pay ($0.05+/word): 5

Semi-pro ($0.01 – $0.05/word): 7

Token (under $0.01/word or royalty pay): 4

I sold a total of 19 stories in 2011. Of those, 17 were original stories and 2 were reprints. Two were micro stories (one Twitter length and one 100-word), 8 were flash (under 1000 words) and the rest ranged between 1200 and 5000 words.

In 2012 I’ll continue to write lots of stories and bombard editors with my submissions. I’m confident I can break my record of 150 subs. In fact, I think I’ll break 200.

If you want to see your fiction published in 2012, then so should you.


Plan of Attack

December 8, 2011

I like to set myself ambitious goals. When I began writing fiction in the summer of 2010 I had a straightforward yet difficult first target: to sell a story that year. Many freshman writers struggle for years before they accomplish that first sale, but I’m not patient enough to wait that long. Luckily I didn’t have to. I managed to get not one, but two stories published in 2010. Both sold to relatively modest markets, but nothing to be embarrassed by.

I wrote about my 2011 goals over here. I joined Write1Sub1, committing to write one short story every week in 2011. The goal was 10 story sales.  To date, I’ve had a total of 17 short story sales this year, including three to professional markets and a sole reprint to the NJ Board of Education. And the year isn’t even over yet.  I also joined SFWA, which was originally one of my goals for 2012.

So what is it I want to accomplish next year? Here’s a list:

Write longer stuff. I will probably write less stories next year, but they will hopefully be better, longer stories. Flash fiction has become my comfort zone, so I will push myself to write longer fiction until I feel as comfortable in the 3-5K word range as I do in under 1000.

To accomplish this, I will spend more time outlining and plotting each story before sitting down to write it. This is contrary to what I’ve done to date, which is to write mostly by the seat of my pants. I will also continue to participate in Write1Sub1, but at the rate of one story per month instead of one per week.

Be consistent. I will try to write at least 500 new words every day. That’s all-new content – editing previously written manuscripts doesn’t count. My biggest problem this year has been falling off the writing wagon for a few days or even a few weeks at a time. Training myself to write a little daily is a good start to accomplishing all of the other goals.

Upgrade SFWA membership  – I’m currently an associate member. Full membership requires 3+ pro sales totaling $250+. I’m at 2 qualifying sales and around $150 – so a single short story sale or a couple of flash sales to pro markets will put me over the top.

Socialize. I have never attended a science fiction convention, nor met many of my fellow writers in person. Next year I will strive to fix that. We are planning a special launch event for an anthology I’m in (more details on that in January) so I will get to meet folks there, but I also hope to attend at least one major SF con in 2012.

Blog. Now that I have this spiffy WordPress blog, I am resolved to update it regularly. The goal is at least once a week, but possibly even more often if I have something interesting to talk about.

Novel! The above goals aren’t particularly ambitious. But this one is, for me. I’m completely lost and intimidated when it comes to undertaking a novel. As I continue to work on short fiction, I will research, outline and begin writing a novel. I don’t necessarily expect to finish it in 2012. In fact, I probably won’t start on it till later in the year. Until then I will continue to work on improving my writing, read books and articles on the craft, and maybe even attend a workshop.

This post is part of a W1S1 blog chain where a number of Absolute Write regulars talk about their writing goals for 2012 and how they plan to accomplish them.  Samuel Mae started the chain on his blog this morning. Next up is A. G. Carpenter.  Please check out their blogs, and those of all the other excellent people who hang out at the Absolute Write W1S1 sub-forum.

 


Writing What You Don’t Know or In the Footsteps of Jules Verne

December 5, 2011

Jules Verne, a science fiction pioneer

Some of the most basic writing advice out there is “show, don’t tell,” “avoid adverbs like the plague” and “write what you know.” While the former two adages are more or less universal, it’s a lot harder for a speculative fiction author to follow the third. After all, what writer could have the first-hand experience navigating a faster-than-light starship, traveling back in time, or casting magic spells?

In most cases a healthy amount of research will do the trick. Jules Verne, renowned for his lush descriptions of exotic and faraway places, hardly ever left his armchair. He learned about Africa, India and other settings outside of Europe by reading books and studying maps. One can only imagine what kind of adventures the grandmaster would have thought up if he had access to the Internet. Or perhaps his productivity would have been stunted by World of Warcraft and Words With Friends – just like the rest of us… Or is that just me? But I digress.

Research is how I cope with writing about stuff I don’t necessarily know much about. I don’t have to become an expert in every field — I just learn enough to fake sounding like one on paper. After all,  if I can’t fake a little knowledge, how can I write convincing accounts of telepathic alien spiders or bad-ass magic wielders on the streets of Brooklyn?

A good portion of my allotted writing time is spent on Wikipedia, looking up various subjects. And the subjects are only getting stranger. Recently some of the stuff I had to look up online for my stories included:

* Manhattan Municipal Building
* Mose the Fireboy
* Persimmons
* Variations of Shakespeare’s “To Be or not to Be” soliloquy in “Hamlet”
* Kaballah and Jewish mysticism
* Sunset Park waterfront
* Sumatra
* Year the JFK airport was renamed as such
* Common Greek names
* Volcanic eruption that destroyed Pompeii.

These aren’t all for the same story (although, if they were, it’d be a doozie!). On second thought, I looked at the list again and SIX of the ten examples I listed are all research for just one story – a sequel to “A Shard Glows in Brooklyn” titled “Requiem for a Druid.” I really doubt anyone would be able to figure out which six, but feel free to give it your best shot in the comments.