2013 In Review

2013 was a year that felt like I spun my wheels. A lot.

I was deep in the query trenches for the bulk of the year, trying to find an agent for The Steampunk Novel. That search also led to two different R&Rs (one in June and one in November), taking even bigger bites out of my limited writing time and reducing my short story output drastically.

In fact, this is my slowest year to produce new shorts since I started W1S1 in 2011. In fact, by my count, I only finished two new stories this year. (Although, I did revise several things, including two which sold. More on that in a minute.)

So, lets look at my submissions stats for the year. (These numbers cover micro-fiction through novella length. The numbers on the agent quest are larger. Much larger.)

Submissions: 44
Rejections: 37
Acceptances: 4 (There are still a few out there that haven't come home yet.)
Publications: 4

The acceptances were:
"The Spider-thief and The Sorcerer" (forthcoming, Crowded Magazine, April 2014)
"Vessels for Destruction" (forthcoming, Nature Magazine's Futures)
Brass Stars (Eggplant Literary Productions, November 2013)
"Love Like Dysphoria" (Southern Gothic, New Lit Salon Press, October 2013)

The publications were:
"Caught" (Stupefying Stories Showcase, June 14, 2013)
"In the Cool of The Day" (Abyss & Apex, July 2013)
"Love Like Dysphoria" (Southern Gothic, New Lit Salon Press, October 2013)
Brass Stars (Eggplant Literary Productions, November 2013)

The two new stories written for the year were "Made" (a contemporary fantasy with a cowardly vampire) and "Kraken" (creepy flash about a man becoming a monster). And I revised "The Spider-thief and The Sorcerer", Brass Stars, and The Steampunk Novel. (I've also been working on "All That is Precious" and "Damsel", but those are not done yet.)

Looking back I think it was a productive year, but more time was spent on improving my craft by refining existing work and less on creating new work. And that's okay. But this year... this year I want to start putting more out on submission again. Which will mean not only refining my work, but getting new words on paper in the first place.

(More on how I intend to accomplish that shortly.)

Happy Twelfth Night, folks! 

Fear

Every now and then I find myself saying "I love pretty much everything about writing except for *insert dreaded thing here*." Usually that "dreaded thing" has to do with selling a project. 

FREX: I hate research markets.
I hate finding new markets.
I hate writing log-lines.
I hate writing query letters.
I hate writing synopsis.

I think you get my drift.

Yesterday I was working on a synopsis for The Steampunk Novel. I'd written one a few months ago and it sucked. I mean, it was okay, but with the recent revisions it needed changes and I'd thought from the start it seemed a little bit long so I figured I'd grit my teeth and write a new one. With much complaining. Because, you know, I hate writing a synopsis.

As I worked on it this little thing in the back of my brain started to ponder my dislike of this part of the process. It reminded me I'd done a similar round of teeth-gnashing and complaining both when writing a log-line and while trying to draft a query letter. Why was that?

I told the little thing to shut up. I was busy.
I finished the synopsis - totally and completely certain that it sucked in a very unpleasant way - and took a break to eat dinner. (IMPORTANT NOTE: Trying to write anything while hungry and tired is probably not one's best idea.) I got something to eat. Spent some time with my family, then came back to the synopsis.

Amazement of amazements, it didn't suck. It needed a few tweaks (which I made) but it was nowhere near as horrible as I had thought whilst writing it.

And then something clicked.
My hatred of log-lines/synopsis/query letters/market research grew out of a very quiet sense of fear.
Sure, there was the fear that all my hard work writing The Steampunk Novel would be lost if I didn't have a killer query with which to pitch it. The fear that the synopsis would not reflect the really interesting aspects or voice of the book. But beyond that was a deeper, more personal fear.

Suppose the query worked? Suppose I got a request for a partial?*** Suppose an agent read my first chapters/150 pages/whatever and DIDN'T LIKE THE WRITING? What if my wordcraft was bad? What if the thing I'd loved so much and put so much energy into... sucked?

I've spent four years trying to get over the idea that what I write isn't worth much. Four years focused on practicing my craft in the hopes that I would get better. That I would gain confidence. That I would get good at writing.

Along the way I'd conquered a series of things that I "hated". (Finishing stories. Editing stories. Finding a market. Dealing with rejections. And so on.) One by one I'd put them behind me until the only things that stood between me and selling my novel (well, finding representation for my novel and THEN selling it) were the query letter and synopsis.

I hated them. I doubted my ability to make the book sound interesting. I doubted my ability to be succinct.
I doubted the value of the story I had told. I doubted my ability to tell a story, period.

That, you see, was the whole problem. Doubt.
FEAR.
The gut-wrenching, mouth-drying, palm-sweating fear that after all this time I still wouldn't be any good at this thing that I love so much.

And that's when I realized I don't have to "hate" any of it. All of that angst and blather about "hating " was just a smoke screen for my insecurity. And there was only one thing to do. 

DO IT ANYWAY.

I wrote a lot of short stories before I discovered Write 1, Sub 1 and used that as an excuse to start sending things out. I started a lot (A LOT!) of novels before I found NaNoWriMo and used that as an excuse to write the first draft of The Steampunk Novel. The only thing that changed between the short stories I wrote and shelved and the ones I submitted was that I submitted them anyway. Even when I was CERTAIN they sucked. (And the ones I thought sucked the most, sold the fastest.)

The only thing that changed between the dozens (yes, dozens) of novels I started and never got past the first 50 pages and the two that I've finished is that I didn't stop when I thought the book sucked. And then I went back and fixed the parts that weren't good. Even when I was CERTAIN it was a waste of time.

So, my (very long) piece of advice for today is: DO IT ANYWAY.
Whatever that writing related thing is that you "hate" (drafting/editing/querying/outlining/writing)... DO IT ANYWAY. 

DO IT ANYWAY.

*** Which, incidentally, I have. So much for thinking my query letters are shite.

Anthology Acceptance

The steampunk shapeshifter story I wrote during the summer has been accepted for The Beast Within 4: Gears and Growls.


I'm very pleased to be working with the editor, Jennifer Brozek. Look for more details in the coming months.

Persistence

Back in 2009 before Write 1, Sub 1 had been initiated (probably not even concieved) I submitted a little story titled "In the Cool of the Day" to Weird Tales. (This being when Ann Vandermeer was the editor.) After four months I received a polite rejection.

Because I was new to the short story game I spent a few weeks moping about it. Then I tried a few more places (Clarkesworld, Orson Scott Card's Intergalactic Medicine Show, GUD Magazine, AGNI, Boston Review and Glimmer Train). All rejections. I began to think short stories must not be my strength and I put the story aside for a while.

A year or so later I looked at the story again. I liked it, but felt it was missing something. So I revised and turned a rather short story (2.1k words) into a rather longish one (6.7k words). It was better. I got feedback from the SYW critters on the Absolute Write forums. Made further revisions. Had a beta-reader look at it. (She said "A little too perfect.") Revised again.

Submitted to Daily Science Fiction where the story was passed to the second round, but ultimately declined.
Submitted to Lightspeed. Rejected.
Submitted to Strange Horizons. Rejected.

Made a few more small revisions.

Submitted to Asimov's Science Fiction. Rejected.
Submitted to Abyss & Apex. And then... ACCEPTANCE.

And all in a little more than three years from the first submission, subsequent revisions and submissions to other markets to a final acceptance.

It's easy to get discouraged. In fact, I do it all the time. (Get discouraged, I mean.) But I am a firm believer that there is always a home for my stories. Persistence is key in this game.

Don't give up. Don't give up. Don't give up.

Twitter Publication

I should have posted this yesterday but the WiFi signal at the apartment has been abysmal. So, a belated announcement that The Essex was published at Trapeze Magazine. (Yesterday.)


This is the first acceptance I've had at Trapeze since Steve Ramey took over as editor. Apparently the irony of this horrific historical Twitter story grabbed his attention.

This is, technically, a W1S1 story. (Even though I'm giving the rest of the year a pass on the weekly challenge in order to focus on the novel.)

Goldfish Grimm's Spicy Fiction Sushi - Issue 5

As I announced last week, Goldfish Grimm's bought "Happy After All" for Issue 5. It will be live on Sunday, July 1st @ http://goldfishgrimm.com/

Be sure to check it out! In addition to my story (plus a nearly coherent interview), there will be fiction (and an interview) from Lydia S. Grey. (Lydia is another Write 1, Sub 1 trouper and has had stories published at Every Day Fiction and in Comets and Criminals, among others.) 

Bits and Pieces

Goldfish Grimm's Spicy Fiction Sushi notified me yesterday that they wanted to purchase "Happy After All" for Issue 5. I'm super-excited!

I also realized that I don't think I made an official announcement when Stupefying Stories bought "The Collections Agent." And since that sale they (Stupefying Stories) have also bought "Caught" - a creepy little piece of flash fiction. 

As soon as Issue 5 of Goldfish Grimm's goes live I'll post links (of course). Same with the details on Stupefying Stories and where to purchase the volume containing "The Collections Agent". 

[I should probably add that all three stories were written either last year or at the beginning of this year as part of Write 1, Sub 1.]

I'm also (slowly) working on updating my links at the bottom of the page. I realized I hadn't touched that section in... months, shall we say, and some of the markets are dead. Plus, I have links to new ones. 

Stay tuned for further updates! 

New Twitter Fiction!

One Forty Fiction published "Overhead" today.

Yay!

Other than that things are pretty slow. I've written a new story (The Ant Thief) and started a second one (One Last Kill) and that's awesome. 

Waiting on responses for things on submission, but it's been pretty quiet the past week or so. (Barring a #megafail with the UFO anthology. Entirely my fault. I don't write funny material much ever.) I imagine there will be a flood pretty soon of yes's or no's. Either way, I'll be busy again. 

June Update

Things have been busy. And crazy. And crazy busy. But, I do have a few pieces of good news to pass along.


"The Collections Agent" - a longish steampunk noir tale - and "Caught" - a bit of speculative flash fiction - with both be published by Stupefying Stories. I do not have exact dates yet, but communication with Bruce Bethke (editor-in-chief at Stupefying Stories) seems to indicate this will happen by the end of the summer.


It also seems that pod-cast version of "Insomnia" is going to happen in the next couple months. (Details are being ironed out, but I'm very excited about this.)


In the meantime, I have a handful of stories on submission (trying out a few newer markets and a few older ones) and I'm working on several potential anthology pieces. And the novel. Which, as ever, chugs along steadily.


As the middle of the year approaches I'm evaluating my weekly and monthly goals in an attempt to wind up closer to my long term goals by the end of the year. Because closer is better than not-closer.


Thus far: I have failed in the monthly word count goals. But I haven't stopped writing altogether.
I am nearly finished with one novella and two others are chugging along at a predictable (if slow) rate.
The novel grows longer each month as well. It is not the massive progress I had hoped for, but each chapter is building on the last and leading to the following and that really all I can ask for.
I have completed one new short story since the beginning of the year and revised a half dozen (or so) others.


Besides, there are six months left to meet my goals. From where I sit, that's an eternity.

Write 1, Sub 1 Blog Chain - Interview with a Character

Turns out the MC (Keira Fennel) of my steampunk novel (Gaslyte) doesn't have time for interviews. Being the sneaky author that I am, I slipped an extra scene into the story and got a few answers from her anyway.


--------------------------

The corridor below The Bell and Burrow is cold enough to be uncomfortable. Doors open on the right, dim rooms beyond that smell of copper and whisper of velvet and silk. Keira stuffs her hands in her pockets and limps a little faster. The hall has been empty so far; if she's spotted that could change, quick.

Glyphs on the wall indicate she should turn left. The new route is darker, smaller, colder. “Pox.” Head down, she doesn't see the glim in the air 'til she smacks right into it. Magic flexes and pushes her back several steps.

“What the hell?” She puts her hand out, takes a cautious step forward. Her fingers touch nothing, but she cannot move any further down the hall. A glance around for a sign of a lock, but there's nothing. She thumps her fist against the invisible barrier and lyte swirls, solidifying into a small, dark figure.

“Before you continue, you must answer a few questions.”

Keira rubs her fingers through her hair. “Great.” She points her chin at the gatekeeper ward. “Go on, then.”

“What do you consider your greatest achievement?”

“Fuck me mam.” She paces a few steps. “What kind of a riddle is that?”

“Not a riddle. A question. There is no correct answer.”

Keira looks at the shadow-thing, suspicious. “Right.”

“What do you consider your greatest achievement?”

“I'm still alive, aren't I?”

“Survival is your greatest achievement?”

“Yes.”

The gatekeeper-ward tilt's its head. “Interesting.”

“Can I pass?”

“Not yet.” The ward looks down, as though consulting a piece of paper. “What is your idea of perfect happiness?”

“I don't have one.” She fingers the buttons on her coat.

“The answers don't matter in and of themselves, but they must be honest.”

“To have the ones I love safe and sound away from this damned city.”

“Ones? Plural?”

“That's right.”

“Who are they?”

Keira chews her lip. “My da. And Lowen.” The last comes out, reluctant.

“Who is Lowen?”

Her cheeks flush. “A friend.” She presses her lips together tight.

The gatekeeper figure leans closer. “Who do you love more?”

“I don't.” She thumps her fist against the magic blocking her way. “What kind of ward are you anyway?”

“One who isn't done asking questions.” A pause. “If you had to choose between saving your father and saving your friend who would you pick?”

Keira spreads her feet a little wider on the floor, arms crossed over her chest. “I'd save them both.”

“What if you couldn't? What if trying to save both meant you'd all perish, what...”

“We'd all die.” She's white around the lips, hands knotted into fists.

“Are you afraid of that, then? Having to choose between them?”

“Banjaxy.”

“I'm not sure I'm familiar with that term. What does it mean?”

“It doesn't mean anything.” She rakes her fingers through her hair. “It means your questions are fucked up.”

“So you are afraid of that.”

“Who wouldn't be afraid of losing someone they love?” Keira's almost leaning against the barrier.

“Ah. True. Let's see.” Again as if checking a list. “Is that your greatest fear, then?”

She pauses. “I guess.”

“There's something else you're more afraid of?”

“Banjaxy.”

“That's not an answer.”

Keira kicks the barrier and lyte glims, wall to wall. “Are you going to let me pass?”

“You haven't answered all my questions.”

“I'll find another way around.” She turns, stomping back down the hall the way she came.

“What if there isn't one?” The gatekeeper's voice drifts after her.

“I'll make one.” She rolls her shoulders to unkink muscles that have locked up. If I have to tear the whole place down.

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The previous link in the blog chain can be found here - Cas Webb's Interview - and don't miss the next link in the chain over at Defcon's Blog.