Skip to main content

Writing Dynasty


In the never-ending quest to be published, I’ve turned to nonfiction.  In nonfiction, you see, all you have to do is convince someone you’ve got an idea nobody else has had.  It took me a few years to figure that out, but then I’ve always been a slow study.  Even doctorates don’t help.

I keep working at my fiction.  It’s where my heart is.  I just finished reading a book, World War Z, by Max Brooks.  Now, I know it’s a matter of taste—this was on the New York Times Bestseller list—but I didn’t care for it.  It wasn’t that well written.  Yes, it was a new idea but so is the one I’ve been trying to get published for a decade now.

What happened here, I wondered.  Then I looked closer.  Max Brooks is Mel Brooks’ son.  Yes, History of the World Part I Mel Brooks’ son.  Blazing Saddles Mel Brooks’ son.  I was reminded of a bit of advice from Writers’ Marketplace back when print books still existed: “Are you famous?  Come on in!” (That’s a paraphrase.)

No doubt, having a famous parent also counts.  Joe Hill has gained a reputation on his own right, but everyone knows he’s Stephen King’s son.  These are the writing dynasties the publishing world adores.  As if ability passes down with the genes.  Privilege certainly does.



I’m trying to keep a more positive attitude these days.  After all, I am the son of a high school dropout who married a career alcoholic.  I’m not dead yet, so that counts for something.  I’ve also been writing fiction since I was a tween.  Some of it my teachers (who knew nothing about publishing) urged me to send it out to magazines.  Somehow fame in a town of 900 counts for little.  Can’t even guarantee sales of a grand.

Brilliance comes in earnings potential.  My Medusa novel’s been with a publisher for over a year now.  Last August they expressed interest and then came the radio silence.  So it goes.  My child writes too.  Her greatest chance is if I start a dynasty.  It’ll probably be a nonfiction one, if any at all.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

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...
Post a Comment
Read more

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.   ...
Post a Comment
Read more

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...
Post a Comment
Read more