Good for the Gander

One of the few things that truly cause me happiness has just occurred. I’ve seen my most recent story published. I’m so happy, I’ll use an exclamation point!

Those of you who’ve tried writing know what an accomplishment this is. You’ve spent your life reading stuff that’s not as good as what you do, and then end each day with a pile of rejection letters so tall that you need a ladder to reach the top. Just a moment of vindication, and you’re ready to start all over again.

My first story published, “O Tannenbaum,” appeared in the online magazine Danse Macabre in December of 2009. It won an award for most macabre Christmas story that year. Danse Macabre has since become my main squeeze for getting published. They get it.

Recently Jersey Devil Press joined the exclusive club of those who don’t automatically reject whatever I submit. “Good for the Gander,” the story about a troubling goose attack, appeared this week. You can read it for free here:

http://www.jerseydevilpress.com/?page_id=%204166

Although The Passion of the Titans, my first published novel, will appear this summer, it is actually the fourth novel I’ve written. The first three never saw the light beyond the shimmering glow of my computer screen.

Writing is the business of learning to live with rejection. It is also the business that builds persistence. I read lots of stuff, some so good it makes me fucking weep. Other stuff I can’t believe convinced an editor to turn a single page. Or even click a mouse.

Thanks Jersey Devil Press for keeping the dream alive!

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. When you’ve been writing for half a century, you l

The Same Old Story

After a story is rejected from a literary magazine—a rather frequent occurrence—I always revise it. For stories rejected half a dozen or more times—a rather frequent occurrence—the stories can shift substantially. In a version of the old saw that “this is the axe used by George Washington to chop down the cherry tree; it has had five new handles and three new heads,” I wonder if the story is the same after such revision. I write in the flush of inspiration. The story comes to me roughly complete. The literati say “no,” and I assume the fault must be my own. I knuckle down and start trying to revise to their liking. The action changes. The ending changes. The characters change. Is it the same story? Is the fault that my addled brain seems to have trouble telling a story someone wants to read? Is it the curse of an internet that makes writers of anyone with fingers to type? I started writing fiction four decades ago. If I’d tried to start publishing then, perhap

Too Much Writing?

Has this ever happened to you? Have you written a story that you’ve completely forgot? Not only completely forgotten, but made unfindable? I play games with my stories and sometimes the joke’s on me. Okay, I suffer from graphomania. I write constantly. I do try to keep organized—I use a spreadsheet that has all my submissions on it. It has rejection/acceptance dates (mostly rejection). Lots of information. I decided to list on it every story, whether finished or in process. There are far too many (mostly in process). When I finish a story I often submit it. If I get burned, I’m shy about resubmitting. I often rewrite at this stage. Then, when I feel brave enough, I try again. The spreadsheet is color-coded. There, in the color that indicates finished and ready to submit is a story cryptically titled “The Password.” I don’t remember this story. I can’t recall what it was about or why I thought it was ready to publish. Looking through my electronic files,

K. Marvin Bruce

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