K. Marvin Bruce

There is, I’m told, a natural progression to dating.  If a girl doesn’t like you on the first date, it’s over.  A second date is a hopeful sign and, barring unforeseen circumstances, a third date is likely. Don’t take my word for it.  I was never a proficient dater, and the girl I married was one I never dated.  My first girlfriend entangled me in a tragic relationship that strung over two years and came to define my senior year in college. No, this isn’t a dating advice column—you wouldn’t want to read one by me!  It’s a metaphor.  You see, I used to think getting published was like dating.  Once you found an editor who “got” what you were doing, you’d be able to move forward.  Progress. I think of H. P. Lovecraft, who is now being taught at universities, and how he really only found one magazine that liked his work.  I thought maybe I’d found that magazine in Danse Macabre , but then they started to be less-than-enthusiastic about my work. It takes a lot of courage f

My writing partner Elizabeth has started a writing club in her local community.  I am really thrilled, since having others to share the enthusiasm for the craft is one of the most fulfilling aspects of life that I can imagine.  Talking with fellow writers has been my panacea and placebo for many years. In a pique over my own lack of progress, I followed up on the many places where I’ve submitted material and have heard nothing in return.  Perhaps a dozen literary magazines regularly reply when you submit something.  The rest will just leave you wondering. As I was crawling over websites looking for any evidence that my submissions might still be alive, it occurred to me that I write for myself.  As another friend once said, we write what we can’t find anybody else writing.  I do it knowing that most of it will never be published. There is a difference between writing for personal fulfillment and writing for publication.   My writing is hard to classify.  I sometimes ca

The mind of a writer is a restless place.  Trying my hardest, it’s difficult to shut it down.  I imagine other writers are the same.  Good writing, as I’ve heard, is clear thinking. On the other hand I have a Protestant work ethic that would make even Calvin blush.  If I’m given a task to do, I work assiduously until it is done.  Bosses often mistake this for efficiency. The problem is I’ve generally been employed below my ability level.  That’s not to say that there aren’t busy times at work—there are.  Some times I can’t finish what I need to, no matter how hard I work.  Other times, however, there’s nothing to do. Here’s my dilemma—should I write when there’s no work to do?  Well, that isn’t really a question.  Life is lamentably short; we have a few years and then we’re gone.  Too many of those years are claimed by work.  Much of it is busy-work. In my current employment I’ve been going weeks without much to do.  I want to keep my job.  I’m making my goals. 

Both in my position as erstwhile professor and in my true vocation as a writer, I have come to realize that understanding the publishing world is essential to becoming a published writer.  Those of us write because we “can do no other,” but if we want to be read we have to play the game. There are hundreds of publishers out there.  The internet has led to a proliferation of presses, mostly small and of limited distribution.  They can easily get your book on Amazon, but with millions of books already there, getting it noticed is difficult. Once upon a time there were a couple dozen major publishers.  They have been bought out by one another until now there are only the “Big Five,” until recently the “Big Six”: Random House (which recently acquired Penguin, one of the six), Macmillan, HarperCollins, Hachette, and Simon and Schuster.  You cannot get published by any of the big five without an agent. Smaller, independent publishing houses (Indies) will often look at material w

I recently read a novel which, because I like only to say kind things of authors, I shall not name.  Suffice it to say that the author had written two successful novels before and I hoped for a mood to match the season in this one.   It was a ghost story, so I thought I was definitely on track.  It was set in a different historical period, but that's fine by me.  Past ghosts are just as troubling as present ghosts.  The story, however, couldn't ever strike a mood.   The setting was in a time of an epidemic.  As well as war.  But the optimism—can I even call it that?—of the narrator seemed not to allow for what Edgar Allan Poe once said was essential for stories: the "single effect."  It was a story scattered all over the place.   Perhaps most jarring to me was the use of language that seemed inappropriate to the time setting of the story.  Phrases that seemed modern, or lighthearted, sprang up in awkward places.  Unusual phrasing was repeated—appare

There are lots and lots of writing “help” websites out there.  Some have useful advice and others are just discussions made by those of us lost in the fast-changing world of publishing.  Blind leading the blind. One of my social networks hosts a group for writers that I joined some time ago.  Like most social networks I have very little time actually to spend on the site—I wouldn’t get any writing done if I put time into website browsing.  Nevertheless, when a topic of importance comes up I read a little. The other day a contributor asked my perennial question: how do you know if your writing is good?  Those of us who are introspective ask that constantly.  We know the inherent paradox—we like our own writing, but we’re not objective readers, are we? Like most writers I write something and love it.  Then I hate it.  Then I’m not sure.  Some of the responses to this post reflected that.  Most wanted to give advice, and frankly, unless you’re a famous writer what can you say

For many writers, getting a book in paperback is a measure of success.  As writers we think of those books so common that you can find them in grocery stores and drug stores and airports.  Books by Stephen King are everywhere. We tend to think of hardcover books as overpriced and out of reach for hoi polloi .  Besides, who has room to store a bunch of hardback books?  They take up valuable shelf space.  If a book doesn’t come out in paperback we think of it as a failure. Publishers tend to look at it the other way around.  Books are a luxury item.  As much as I shudder to write this, you can live without them.  Publishers know this and that’s why book prices often seem so high.  I’m old enough to remember when a mass-market paperback could be purchased for just over a dollar. Mass market is almost impossible to hit.  As I sit here waiting for six publishers to get back to me on my Medusa novel, I know that it won’t be mass market.  The trade paperback is the larger format,

This week past was Banned Book Week.  It is kind of a holiday for me as a writer.  For the past several years I have read a banned or challenged book on or about this time.  Of course, much of what I normally read is banned stuff. This practice began when my writing partner Elizabeth was still in school.  As she was assigned classics that I'd never read, I tried to keep up, reading them as though I were assigned the books. Catcher in the Rye , J. D. Salinger's masterpiece, was one such book.  Although it has sat on my shelf for years, I finally got around to reading Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 .  Kate Chopin's The Awakening ,  John Gardner’s Grendel , Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita ,  and many others have brought new insights to my inner eyes. Although I abhor the idea of books being banned, sometimes it performs a very great service.  Banned books garner a great deal of attention and sometimes become bestsellers because of it.  Still, wouldn’t it be better ye