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Showing posts from June, 2016

Yes, and No

There are weeks, as a writer, many weeks in fact, when I don’t submit anything for publication.  I have a backlog of stories, and even of novels, but putting yourself out for possible rejection never comes easily.  On the uplift from an acceptance, my ebullience leads me to submit others. This has been a week of Yes and No.  I was pleased to hear on Wednesday that The Fable Online has accepted my story, “As Nature Directs,” for publication.  The acceptance note kept me happy, even through work. Thursday Liminal Stories turned down my effort entitled “Fire Everlasting.”  The editors said that the writing was good but the fit was not.  That’s something I can understand.  I really should be better about matching content and container.  It’s a growth area. Having editors say the writing is good always provides a boost.  It was one of the readers’ comments on “As Nature Directs” that stayed with me.  The reader noted that the story was creepy, and, I quote “Poe-like.”  I bare

Pacing

A criticism that I’ve occasionally received concerns pacing.  The short story, which today means up to about 7000 words, is a limited amount of space to establish mood.  My writing partner Elizabeth was reading a Poe short story recently and commented on how long it seemed. We’ve been accustomed, by the internet, to shorten things.  Flash fiction is in.  Say it in 1000 words or less.  What’s the correct pacing for a 300-word story? I’ve been editing a number of my complete, but unpublished, stories lately.  I’m trying to bring the word counts down.  I don’t want to be thought of as a plodding writer.  At the same time, I’m no action writer.  My stories are thoughtful. Some time ago I started reading Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire .  Dark, moody, and sensuous, this is a slow-paced novel.  Focusing on subtleties and emotions, she paints a writerly picture of the inner life of the undead. If I were an editor today I’d say she has pacing issues.  More neck biting a

On Monogamy

I’ve lost track of how many stories I’ve written.  Writers write primarily for themselves, but at a certain point it occurs that maybe somebody else would like to read your stuff.  You can get disabused of that notion pretty quickly, but still you’ll write. I subscribe to Duotrope.  It’s a search engine with useful content for potential publishers.  So when I finish a story I let my fingers do the walking to find someone who might like it.  I can’t classify my writing; it’s all over the place. You find a publisher then read what they want.  It’s not exactly like what you do, but maybe close enough?  You give it a try. I’m a monogamous guy.  I never did like dating—those with rejection complexes seldom do.  When I find a publisher, I stay close.  Then, inevitably, they begin sending rejection letters.  The relationship has grown cold.  I have trouble going back to past writers.  I head back to the singles bar called Duotrope. Are there really two of us in this duo?  Nop

Small Town

I was born in a small town.  That’s not a quote from John Cougar Mellencamp; it’s the truth.  My hometown, which shall remain nameless here since it is sometimes easy to identify a person by such a small place, is who I am.  We are defined by where we’re from. After spending my first decade, which I didn’t realize was a decade at the time, in my hometown we moved.  We moved to an even smaller town.  A community of less than a thousand.  Industrial, dirty, and drug-ridden.  I began to write. Like most restless minds in small towns, I wanted to escape.  When I first saw the city, I was enamored.  So many people.  So much excitement.  So little community. This week I received the happy news that my story “Prom Night Redux” was accepted for publication by Exterminating Angel Press: the Magazine .  (More details to follow.) The story is close to my heart.  It is a story about being from a small town and wanting that small town to thrive.  I first wrote it over five years ag