Silence of the Titans

The internet has filled the world with noise. Communications specialists tell us that it is important to distinguish signal from noise since signal is potentially useful information. Ah, but the internet is so vast! SETI would have more chance of finding signal in an infinite universe.

So when I heard from my contracted publisher that Passion of the Titans, my first novel accepted for publication, is being released back to me, my breath caught in my throat. Perhaps I should’ve heard the signal earlier. Accepted last summer, it was downgraded to an ebook release this spring, and then finally cancelled.

Wheat and chaff are very different from one another. As are sheep and goats. Signal and noise are far more ambiguous.

Like Edgar Allan Poe, and probably here the likeness ends, I have read many inferior bits of literature that have engulfed public demand. Has anybody ever tried to praise the literary merits of Fifty Shades of Grey? I had trouble getting myself to pick it back up.

Sex sells, but only if you get it into the right hands. Passion of the Titans is funny, sexy, and smart. Maybe that’s a bad combination. Maybe it’s just noise. Somewhere out there on the internet is an editor who liked it. Maybe it is time to hit the delete key and find out what Christian and Anastasia are up to. Fifty guesses...

I’m not the greatest writer who ever lived. Nor am I the worst. Why is it so fucking hard to find a publisher who likes the authentic voice and wry observations of a quiet guy who looks myopically at life, and wishes he could join the game?

Passion of the Titans was to be published by now. Instead, I am back at the starting gate. Only I’m exhausted already. And frustrated. And what is this constant ringing in my ears?

Comments

Dusty

My, this thing is dusty. My fans—hi, Mom!—perhaps believe me to have perished in the pandemic. No, it was nonfiction’s fault. Since the pandemic began I’ve had two nonfiction books published and have written a third. With a nine-to-five job something’s got to give. Unfortunately it’s been fiction. Well, the groundhog didn’t see his shadow yesterday, so it must be safe to come out. I shuffled away the rejection notes and began submitting again. I’ve got a backlog of weird stories and maybe some new publishers have emerged? The thing is, don’t you just hate it when you’re in the mood to submit and some lit journal has its window for submissions firmly shut? My last story, “ The Hput, ” was published about three years ago. Oh, I’ve submitted since then, but with no traction. Well, it is winter. I’ve got a lot of stories lined up. I’ve been sending them out again, dreaming of making a dime at what I love doing best...

Creative Righting

Rejection of my writing is a rejection of my imaginative world. That’s why I was cheered by the acceptance of one of my stories this week. That makes number 31. I’ve been working on a lot of fiction lately, even as nonfiction book number 6 is going to press. The ideas are still there, and bizarre as ever, but publishing venues just aren’t welcoming. The other day I had lunch with a professor whose wife is also a professor. She just had her first novel published, and so he pointed me to her indie publisher. I went to their website to learn that they’re closed to submissions. I have to admit that my latest accepted story, “Creative Writing Club,” was probably given the green light because I know the editor. That seems like a pretty dicey way to get any notice, doesn’t it? You have to know the right people even in the low circulation world. My fiction is difficult to classify. It’s got speculative elements to it. ...

Creativity

Maybe you’ve noticed this too. When you step away from fiction writing for a while, your creativity becomes flaccid. I’ve had to step away from this blog for a while because I was writing my sixth nonfiction book. God, I’ve missed fiction! Now that I’ve entered that phase of waiting for publishers to respond, I’ve turned my limited writing time back to fiction. I submitted a couple of stories this week and am waiting to hear about those as well. When you’re a writer, waiting is a way of life. Opening my software where I store my fiction stories, I was amazed by how many I found. Some of them are bad—so bad that they’ll never (rightfully) be published. Some are surprisingly good and have been sitting around while I finished up my nonfic. The vast majority, however, are unfinished. Some years back I realized that when I’m writing in the heat of inspiration but don’t have time to finish a story that I need to write down where I...

K. Marvin Bruce

Search This Blog