Trains for Thought

“The Last Train from New York” is a story I wrote while working for a New York publisher. Being unemployed was on my mind, and the story is a metaphor for a loser trying to find his place.

This past week I heard the glad news that “The Last Train from New York” has been accepted for publication in Corvus Review. This makes eighteen stories published, and also marks another literary magazine that seems to think I’m capable.

That may sound gratuitous on my part, but I assure you it's not. Like many writers I suffer from lack of self-esteem. All the advice givers say to take rejection lightly, but as someone who puts a lot of effort into each piece I decide to send out, how can I not take rejection personally? When I do get a hit, it makes my day. Week, even.

Only a writer understands how publication is validation. Someone who has a louder voice than me—a longer reach—says yes, this guy has something interesting to say. Part of the problem is my stories are often meant to do more than entertain. I want to make people think.

I suppose that’s the definition of the genre, “literary fiction.” It’s more than just eye candy. Stories with substance can be fun to read. I take the craft a little too seriously to just throw it away, however.

Another writer once wrote that writing is a way of protesting against being forgotten. I don’t write to get rich (good thing!), but to be heard. In a life where very few pay attention to what anyone does or says, writing is a lifeline thrown past irrelevance.

When “The Last Train from New York” shows up in published form, I’ll put in my usual link here on my little blog. I hope some people will find it fun and that others will find it has a message. And I’ll keep on writing because I hope to be heard.

Comments

Patterns

There’s a pattern I’m noticing. For fiction publishers. Even if you aim low you’ll find it a struggle. Part of the reason is the pattern. Lots of websites list publishers. The smaller, hungrier presses either eventually close or get to a place where they require an agent to get in. That’s the kiss of death. Although my stories have won prizes, and been nominated for prizes, I can’t get an agent interested. I’ve queried well over a hundred, so the agent route is one of diminishing returns. This too is a pattern. Back to the smaller presses. I check many lists. What I write, you see, is highly idiosyncratic. It’s literary but it’s weird. Publishers don’t know what to do with it. If a smaller press published stuff like this, I’d find it. The pattern includes writers who never get discovered. Ironically, a number of editors of fiction literary magazines (mostly online) tell me they enjoy my wor...

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. ...

Maybe Okay

A couple pieces of encouraging news, perhaps, dear struggling writers. I had a couple short stories accepted for publication in recent weeks. As a fellow writer recently said, “You've got to keep trying. Somebody will like what you wrote.” That’s a bit of sunshine. And it’s likely true. But the stories: “The Crossing,” about two men in a boat trying to cross the Atlantic, was accepted by JayHenge Publishing. JayHenge is a small, but paying publisher. I was flattered when they wanted it for their Masque & Maelström: The Reluctant Exhumation of Edgar Allan Poe anthology. Being associated with Poe in any way feels good. The second story, “St. Spiders’ Day,” had been brewing in my mind for years—yes, this is a long game! A friend pointed me to The Creepy podcast. Since the story hadn’t been written, I followed their guidelines of what they wanted. It worked. I recently heard a successful wri...

K. Marvin Bruce

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