Fall must be a very busy time for editors. Of the ten or so submissions I’ve sent out in the last few months, a few have come back. I received rejections from Pill Hill Press (for their Bitter End nautical anthology) and Every Day Fiction (for a flash piece about a book burner). Pill Hill was a disappointment, as I’m a big fan of theirs (and have been accepted by them before), but you can’t always bat a thousand, even with familiar publishers. They’ve got another anthology, Love Kills, that I’m thinking of submitting to soon, so I may have another chance with them in the future.
Last night, while working on a few things in front of my laptop, my email application lit up. I’ve tried to unsubscribe myself from every irrelevant mailing list I receive so that I don’t have to wade through tons of junk just to get to important emails, though that’s only been marginally successful so far. I still find I have emails waiting for me, hoping they’ll be about a submission, only to find they’re advertisements or other stuff I could care less about.
I wasn’t expecting much, but when I checked my inbox I found it was from Victorya, editor of Library of Horror’s upcoming Baconology anthology. Yes, it’s a collection of horror stories involving bacon as a main element. It’s a real book, and it’s coming out.
And I’m going to be in it.
This is one of the submissions I’d been anxiously waiting on a response for. Up until last night, I’d never been in a Library publication and it was something I really wanted to get involved in. Now I have that opportunity, as my story, “Porn and the First-Person Shooter,” will be appearing in Baconology.
I’ve been jittery and excited since I read the email. Really, really looking forward to this. I can’t even imagine what the cover art is going to be.
So, for the year so far that makes two anthologies, at least two small press print publications, an internet serial novel, several appearances on fiction sites and two placements in flash contests. I still have a few submissions still floating around, for another two anthologies and a few more magazines.
I feel so lucky right now.
Showing posts with label rejection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rejection. Show all posts
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
Dealing With Criticism
Most people who write, assuming they share their manuscripts with non-family members and/or people in a position of power over them (agents, editors, publishers, etc) have tasted rejection to one degree or another. Some neophytes handle it well, resending manuscripts that have been rejected to another publisher in the hopes of a better fit, or taking well-intended advice and working on yet another draft. It took me quite a while for the sting of rejection to fade into a simpler, gentler sense of overall disappointment, but it was worth it, as now I no longer have to wait for responses with my breath held, fear the dominant emotion when I pull the return envelope from my mailbox.
You win some, you lose some, and anything more than just the word “no” scribbled on a piece of notepaper as a response is going to teach you something. That’s how I see it.
Some of us don’t have the same perspective. Some of us take it personally and feel insulted or humiliated. Some of us fire back poorly thought-out rebuttals or slander those who’ve rejected us on social networking sites. These are all very bad reactions, but considering our newness and lack of critical success most recipients, if they even pay attention to our ramblings, are apt to simply roll their eyes at us and forget we even exist.
When it’s an established author, things are a bit different. The stakes are higher, reputations are tarnished and business ties can be broken. Bad press for a well-known author can be very, very damaging.
When I read a less than stellar book review, as a reader, I tend to not pay too much attention to it. Either something in the review catches my eye and, despite the poor marks in some areas, I’ll pick the book up or I’ll find myself nodding in agreement, not interested in the novel at all. I rarely think of the authors involved. I’m sure it’s far from accurate, but my imagined response to a bad review for an author is about as dramatic as a middle fingered wave at the page before slam-dunking it into the garbage. Over and done with. They’re published authors. They’ve got agents, contracts, royalties. They don’t care about what the reviews say, right?
I have a feeling my initial impression of how the higher echelons deal with criticism was further off than I thought.
Alice Hoffman is a writer with thirty years of experience in publishing. She’s incredibly well known. You would think that she’d be the prime candidate for playing it cool in the face of criticism, right? Not really. Seems last month, after the Boston Globe’s reviewer Roberta Silman gave her a somewhat lackluster (though not entirely negative) review, Hoffman took her vengeance to Twitter.
Twenty-seven irate tweets in response to a review that was, in some places, complimentary. Silman even explains that one of Hoffman’s previous works is one of her favorite books, an accomplishment I’m sure is not easy considering the sheer amount reviewers/writers (Silman is a fiction writer as well) read in their lifetimes.
I’m starting to believe that anxiety is the great equalizer. We’ve all got it, from beginners to professionals, and we’ll never be able to shake it completely. How we deal with it is the most important thing. I follow, as closely as my short temper will allow, a two-fold strategy to criticism. First, never take it to heart or assume the person criticizing is making an intimate attack. Second, never respond with anything but a gracious thank you, and only in the case of manuscript critiques or peer review. Don’t succumb to the childish urge to retaliate. It’s a decent strategy, and I think I’ve done rather well with it. If I ever get to the big leagues I’ll have many opportunities to test my technique there, though I suspect it’s a rather universal idea, well suited to most situations.
What to do, then, if you’re an author and you’ve been given low marks by not one but multiple reviewers? What if you can’t bite your tongue or shrug it off? What then? What did mystery novelist Brad Meltzer do last year when ARCs of his latest, The Book of Lies, were heavily panned?
He didn’t write twenty-seven irate Tweets.
Despite the astounding amount of bad press, most of which he has collected for me right here, I still want to take a peek at his novel, just to see what kind of prose this author could have come up with.
And this, I think, is the whole point.
You win some, you lose some, and anything more than just the word “no” scribbled on a piece of notepaper as a response is going to teach you something. That’s how I see it.
Some of us don’t have the same perspective. Some of us take it personally and feel insulted or humiliated. Some of us fire back poorly thought-out rebuttals or slander those who’ve rejected us on social networking sites. These are all very bad reactions, but considering our newness and lack of critical success most recipients, if they even pay attention to our ramblings, are apt to simply roll their eyes at us and forget we even exist.
When it’s an established author, things are a bit different. The stakes are higher, reputations are tarnished and business ties can be broken. Bad press for a well-known author can be very, very damaging.
When I read a less than stellar book review, as a reader, I tend to not pay too much attention to it. Either something in the review catches my eye and, despite the poor marks in some areas, I’ll pick the book up or I’ll find myself nodding in agreement, not interested in the novel at all. I rarely think of the authors involved. I’m sure it’s far from accurate, but my imagined response to a bad review for an author is about as dramatic as a middle fingered wave at the page before slam-dunking it into the garbage. Over and done with. They’re published authors. They’ve got agents, contracts, royalties. They don’t care about what the reviews say, right?
I have a feeling my initial impression of how the higher echelons deal with criticism was further off than I thought.
Alice Hoffman is a writer with thirty years of experience in publishing. She’s incredibly well known. You would think that she’d be the prime candidate for playing it cool in the face of criticism, right? Not really. Seems last month, after the Boston Globe’s reviewer Roberta Silman gave her a somewhat lackluster (though not entirely negative) review, Hoffman took her vengeance to Twitter.
Twenty-seven irate tweets in response to a review that was, in some places, complimentary. Silman even explains that one of Hoffman’s previous works is one of her favorite books, an accomplishment I’m sure is not easy considering the sheer amount reviewers/writers (Silman is a fiction writer as well) read in their lifetimes.
I’m starting to believe that anxiety is the great equalizer. We’ve all got it, from beginners to professionals, and we’ll never be able to shake it completely. How we deal with it is the most important thing. I follow, as closely as my short temper will allow, a two-fold strategy to criticism. First, never take it to heart or assume the person criticizing is making an intimate attack. Second, never respond with anything but a gracious thank you, and only in the case of manuscript critiques or peer review. Don’t succumb to the childish urge to retaliate. It’s a decent strategy, and I think I’ve done rather well with it. If I ever get to the big leagues I’ll have many opportunities to test my technique there, though I suspect it’s a rather universal idea, well suited to most situations.
What to do, then, if you’re an author and you’ve been given low marks by not one but multiple reviewers? What if you can’t bite your tongue or shrug it off? What then? What did mystery novelist Brad Meltzer do last year when ARCs of his latest, The Book of Lies, were heavily panned?
He didn’t write twenty-seven irate Tweets.
Despite the astounding amount of bad press, most of which he has collected for me right here, I still want to take a peek at his novel, just to see what kind of prose this author could have come up with.
And this, I think, is the whole point.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Rejection Done Right
Nothing hurts the ego more than being blown off or insulted, and a lot of writers are comprised of more sensitive stuff than others, so sending work out into the great wide world can be potentially painful for some. I know, I’ve been there. As a very young writer, in my late teens and early twenties, I found it very difficult to separate my professional self from my private self and see literary rejection for what it really is, someone letting you know that your work isn’t a good fit for their publication or just any of their upcoming issues.
Sometimes it really stung.
Getting back into the swing of things, I’ve noticed that rejection doesn’t faze me much, if at all, this time around. I’ve received a number of them in the last two years, from one-line “no thank you” type replies to well thought out critiques.
Don’t get me wrong, a “yes” regardless of how it’s phrased will always be more preferable than a polite “no,” but rejection is a part of the life and will never go away. Better to get used to it than it wear you down, no?
That said, I’ve received several decent rejection slips recently. It’s always a disappointment to find out you don’t fit in, but they were written well enough that I’d like to share them here.
The Abacot Journal recently responded to a submission of my short story, Cryptic Coloration.
The Harrow, a publication I’ve been featured in before, weighed in on my submission of My Neighbor’s Apartment not only with a gentle “no” but also some words of both critique and encouragement.
Dear Jessica,
Sometimes it really stung.
Getting back into the swing of things, I’ve noticed that rejection doesn’t faze me much, if at all, this time around. I’ve received a number of them in the last two years, from one-line “no thank you” type replies to well thought out critiques.
Don’t get me wrong, a “yes” regardless of how it’s phrased will always be more preferable than a polite “no,” but rejection is a part of the life and will never go away. Better to get used to it than it wear you down, no?
That said, I’ve received several decent rejection slips recently. It’s always a disappointment to find out you don’t fit in, but they were written well enough that I’d like to share them here.
The Abacot Journal recently responded to a submission of my short story, Cryptic Coloration.
Dear Jessica,
Thank you for your submission to The Abacot Journal’s fifth issue. While I loved the uplifting and unexpected ending to your story, unfortunately, it was not chosen from the wide range of fabulous stories we received. Good luck in your writing, have a wonderful new year, and please consider submitting to us again.
Alexandra J. Ash
Editor, The Abacot Journal
The Harrow, a publication I’ve been featured in before, weighed in on my submission of My Neighbor’s Apartment not only with a gentle “no” but also some words of both critique and encouragement.
Dear Jessica,
Thanks for submitting 'My Neighbor's Apartment' to The Harrow. We're going
to pass.
While it's a well-written piece, and provides ample atmosphere, I
ultimately found that this is all the story does.
While it's certainly a point of interest that the protagonist's neighbor
has a vacant apartment beside their apartment, the mystery of such a thing
is not quite enough to engage the reader. There needs to be some sort of
conflict - internal or external - that is provided to draw the protagonist
to the place on the basis of her own decisions. The curiosity of our
narrator simply isn't enough... but perhaps there is a strong reason why
she is so curious. (And if that curiosity is born out of a rather banal
existence of reading spam email - the dullness of the character's
predicament needs to be highlighted strongly in the piece - a violent or
otherwise awful death as a result of her investigations, for example,
displaying that both fates are equally dreadful.)
Regardless, I think if you can provide such a thing here, the rest of the
story may write itself, and the piece will be stronger for it, overall.
Do try us again.
Regards,
Michael R. Colangelo
I now have quite a bit to think over. Accusing me of only providing atmosphere isn’t anything new – I do it to myself all the time. In fact, this is one of my major weaknesses. I’d rather focus on character, setting and atmosphere instead of plot, and that provides for a very lopsided story. Apparently only Murakami Haruki has license to get away with those kinds of shenanigans.
One of the things I enjoy most with rejections are the encouragements for resubmission. Not only are they show at least some interest in you as a writer but they are also proving to the more sensitive types that “No, you don’t really suck as a human being. Your story just didn’t work, and it’s not universal, it’s just this one time. Keep showing us your stuff.” It’s hard to convince either yourself or other writers this very important fact. Usually it has to come from the publisher.
Unfortunately, I won’t be having any time left over to rewrite My Neighbor’s Apartment for quite some time. I’m still trying to proof In the Teahouse before Christmas so I can have a copy of the rough draft printed at Staples for Eric. I had a few run off (at twenty bucks apiece!) to pass around for reading/editing purposes but it appears my initial proofing glossed over several glaring mistakes.
After that, I agreed to write a winter-themed short story for a friend’s upcoming podcast. So far the plan includes him reading the story and then the two of us recording some kind of dialogue discussing the piece and writing in general. I’m excited but the business of the season has prevented me from my usual brainstorming sessions. I’ve only got bits and pieces of ideas so far. And two very large holidays are looming in the horizon.
Busy, busy.
I now have quite a bit to think over. Accusing me of only providing atmosphere isn’t anything new – I do it to myself all the time. In fact, this is one of my major weaknesses. I’d rather focus on character, setting and atmosphere instead of plot, and that provides for a very lopsided story. Apparently only Murakami Haruki has license to get away with those kinds of shenanigans.
One of the things I enjoy most with rejections are the encouragements for resubmission. Not only are they show at least some interest in you as a writer but they are also proving to the more sensitive types that “No, you don’t really suck as a human being. Your story just didn’t work, and it’s not universal, it’s just this one time. Keep showing us your stuff.” It’s hard to convince either yourself or other writers this very important fact. Usually it has to come from the publisher.
Unfortunately, I won’t be having any time left over to rewrite My Neighbor’s Apartment for quite some time. I’m still trying to proof In the Teahouse before Christmas so I can have a copy of the rough draft printed at Staples for Eric. I had a few run off (at twenty bucks apiece!) to pass around for reading/editing purposes but it appears my initial proofing glossed over several glaring mistakes.
After that, I agreed to write a winter-themed short story for a friend’s upcoming podcast. So far the plan includes him reading the story and then the two of us recording some kind of dialogue discussing the piece and writing in general. I’m excited but the business of the season has prevented me from my usual brainstorming sessions. I’ve only got bits and pieces of ideas so far. And two very large holidays are looming in the horizon.
Busy, busy.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Rejection Slips and the Lamenting of Passing Markets
I’ve mentioned before that I have only four manuscripts out. Yes, that’s right. Four. I know it doesn’t seem like many, but I’m coming up with new things daily and I’m building upon those at the same time I’m trying to find a home for my finished work. I get to experience a little bit of each stage of the small press publishing process all at the same time and it feels kind of nice. This isn’t some sort of special routine, though, as I’m fairly sure that most (if not all) competent and disciplined writers operate this way.
I got my first few rejection slips this week. I feel kind of odd about them.
The first was from McSweeney’s. My short detective fiction story, In My Office, was apparently not a good fit. I should probably have researched a bit more before I submitted, as they are more of a publisher of conceptual humor than anything else. I’ve resubmitted it to a neat British website of classic and new short fiction called East of the Web.
Tabard Inn liked my short suicide jumper story Commute. Unfortunately, it was too “ordinary” and wasn’t of questionable taste. I really like this rejection slip, simply because Mr. Bruni commented on the story itself and the ending in particular. I really appreciate it when I get more than a “no” or a form letter. I can handle a simple rejection, but this slip implies to me that my competence isn’t the issue, and also that if I write something a bit bawdier I might be able to find a home for it here. I think I’m going to buy Issue Two of this magazine, just because I like it so much. And the editor/owner signs the inside covers of the copies to make it a bit more personal. A nice touch, I think.
The Woman Without, my lesbian succubus “erotic horror” story (and the predecessor to my NaNo idea) is still out for consideration at Horrotica, as is The Orchard at Talebones. I’m looking forward to hearing back from these publishers.
It seems to me that a lot of horror small press magazines have gone missing in the interim years that I neglected to write. Shadow Feast, home to my story Shika: The High Price of Life, is gone as is Wicked Mystic, the magazine that went from Xerox-grade digest to glossy-covered behemoth. The Nocturnal Lyric has gone to annual and all those small startups that were in past editions of the Novel and Short Story Writers’ Market have vanished. I feel bad. All this I could have had played a part in, even if it was just to receive a rejection slip, and it’s gone. I’m happy to see that The Nocturnal Lyric is still kicking, though. I believe my first story ever was published there.
And now, onto something a bit more personal and a whole lot more frustrating.
I can’t outline a plot for shit. It doesn’t matter if it’s a novel or a short story. I can come up with characters and an idea of what happens, at least the beginning and the end, but all that happens in the interim is blank. When I go to put the story down on paper, once I get past where I’ve developed the plot, I either freeze or I keep going and turn it into absolute dreck. I hate it. This is going on right now with two stories I’m working on, three if you count Pages, the story I put down a couple weeks ago to focus shorter writing exercises. Unfortunately, the so-called shorter stories took on lives of their own and are now stalling out on me. I’m about to introduce aliens hiding inside pumpkins in the form of mold in one story, but I can’t decide on why they’re even there, how they communicate or how to get rid of them. In the other, I’ve managed to take my two underage-looking vampire girls to Hong Kong in pursuit of pedophiles to snack on, eventually hoping to get them to rural Thailand, but they’re stuck in a nighttime ghetto after getting off a human trafficker’s ship. Yesterday’s wonderful suicide website idea is still in the planning stages because I’ll be damned if I let this one get waylaid by poor planning. That and Eric, my boyfriend and strongest supporter, thinks it would make a great novel. I’m still sold on the short story idea but we’ll see how it works itself out.
T-minus one week until the start of NaNo and my novel idea isn’t completely fleshed out, either. I’m not especially worried about that because part of the draw of something like NaNo is that I will be focused on quantity over quality, with an opportunity to edit later on. I suppose I could do this with everything I write, but I prefer a bit more discipline and a whole lot less free-form rambling. Without discipline I’d never get anything done. I’ve learned that the hard way.
I’ve also noticed how little time I actually have. How am I supposed to work all night, exercise, brainstorm, write, read fiction manuals AND fiction for pleasure and get enough time to sleep a decent amount before lathering, rinsing and repeating? Am I going to have to cut out all extra activities, like reading the news or sending Instant Messages? Am I going to have to cut back on my sleep and run the risk of passing out at my desk at 4 AM like I used to? Should I start up a meth habit just to get this all done?
I got my first few rejection slips this week. I feel kind of odd about them.
The first was from McSweeney’s. My short detective fiction story, In My Office, was apparently not a good fit. I should probably have researched a bit more before I submitted, as they are more of a publisher of conceptual humor than anything else. I’ve resubmitted it to a neat British website of classic and new short fiction called East of the Web.
Tabard Inn liked my short suicide jumper story Commute. Unfortunately, it was too “ordinary” and wasn’t of questionable taste. I really like this rejection slip, simply because Mr. Bruni commented on the story itself and the ending in particular. I really appreciate it when I get more than a “no” or a form letter. I can handle a simple rejection, but this slip implies to me that my competence isn’t the issue, and also that if I write something a bit bawdier I might be able to find a home for it here. I think I’m going to buy Issue Two of this magazine, just because I like it so much. And the editor/owner signs the inside covers of the copies to make it a bit more personal. A nice touch, I think.
The Woman Without, my lesbian succubus “erotic horror” story (and the predecessor to my NaNo idea) is still out for consideration at Horrotica, as is The Orchard at Talebones. I’m looking forward to hearing back from these publishers.
It seems to me that a lot of horror small press magazines have gone missing in the interim years that I neglected to write. Shadow Feast, home to my story Shika: The High Price of Life, is gone as is Wicked Mystic, the magazine that went from Xerox-grade digest to glossy-covered behemoth. The Nocturnal Lyric has gone to annual and all those small startups that were in past editions of the Novel and Short Story Writers’ Market have vanished. I feel bad. All this I could have had played a part in, even if it was just to receive a rejection slip, and it’s gone. I’m happy to see that The Nocturnal Lyric is still kicking, though. I believe my first story ever was published there.
And now, onto something a bit more personal and a whole lot more frustrating.
I can’t outline a plot for shit. It doesn’t matter if it’s a novel or a short story. I can come up with characters and an idea of what happens, at least the beginning and the end, but all that happens in the interim is blank. When I go to put the story down on paper, once I get past where I’ve developed the plot, I either freeze or I keep going and turn it into absolute dreck. I hate it. This is going on right now with two stories I’m working on, three if you count Pages, the story I put down a couple weeks ago to focus shorter writing exercises. Unfortunately, the so-called shorter stories took on lives of their own and are now stalling out on me. I’m about to introduce aliens hiding inside pumpkins in the form of mold in one story, but I can’t decide on why they’re even there, how they communicate or how to get rid of them. In the other, I’ve managed to take my two underage-looking vampire girls to Hong Kong in pursuit of pedophiles to snack on, eventually hoping to get them to rural Thailand, but they’re stuck in a nighttime ghetto after getting off a human trafficker’s ship. Yesterday’s wonderful suicide website idea is still in the planning stages because I’ll be damned if I let this one get waylaid by poor planning. That and Eric, my boyfriend and strongest supporter, thinks it would make a great novel. I’m still sold on the short story idea but we’ll see how it works itself out.
T-minus one week until the start of NaNo and my novel idea isn’t completely fleshed out, either. I’m not especially worried about that because part of the draw of something like NaNo is that I will be focused on quantity over quality, with an opportunity to edit later on. I suppose I could do this with everything I write, but I prefer a bit more discipline and a whole lot less free-form rambling. Without discipline I’d never get anything done. I’ve learned that the hard way.
I’ve also noticed how little time I actually have. How am I supposed to work all night, exercise, brainstorm, write, read fiction manuals AND fiction for pleasure and get enough time to sleep a decent amount before lathering, rinsing and repeating? Am I going to have to cut out all extra activities, like reading the news or sending Instant Messages? Am I going to have to cut back on my sleep and run the risk of passing out at my desk at 4 AM like I used to? Should I start up a meth habit just to get this all done?
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