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Not Good Enough

“The writing is good,” and that's half the battle, no?  If I have to get rejection letters, then those with helpful advice are better than those who don’t say why.  Usually I assume my writing just sucks.  The latest letter, however, said the writing is good.  Only the pacing sucks.

I’ve always struggled with pacing.  I like to build a mood; too many hours spent with Poe, Lovecraft, and Bradbury.  Never paying close enough attention to my masters.  Thing is, time moves on and tastes change.  I’ve learned to imitate the passé. 

Although I’ve had a dozen or so acceptances in my life, each rejection still hurts.  In fact I check my email before leaving for work only.  At least my thankless job dulls the pain from an early morning pinhead letter.  Compared even to my pacing, work is dull.

I recall reading Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton.  I read it before I saw the movie.  I think of the scene where the velociraptor is hiding in the electrical shed.  How did Crichton get me to jump when I was reading that scene?  Was it pacing?

Something has to happen to move the reader along, I realize.  In this age of electronic publishing we want to go from buzz to buzz, quickly and without lagging.  I get the sense that in the days before the internet we felt cheated if a story didn’t take the time to set the mood.  Of course, you had to buy books in those days.

Most of my short stories are mini-novels.  Slices of life from characters and events that should take 100,000 words to explain.  I’ve got to cut something out.  Unfortunately I seem to focus on the expendable.  Mood over pacing.


There must be a trick to getting pacing right.  Critics disagree how much to reveal when or how soon.  Maybe I need to build more suspense.  Or maybe I need to continue doing what I do—write for myself and hope somebody likes it enough to share it with others.  At least the writing is good. So I'm told.


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