Writers are crazy people
Jul. 16th, 2009 10:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anthimeriaFirst, I have to say that I'm trepidatious about using that subject (and using the word "trepidatious." Every spellchecker I have is yelling at me in red lines). I will likely write about Writers And Our Issues again, so am I justified in using the subject now? What if I want to use it later, for a post it fits much better than this one? (In case anyone is wondering, I have the same problem with story titles.)
At any rate, today's installment of my ever-so-fascinating journal (being read by millions, of course*) is devoted to that most common of editorial responses: the rejection letter.
Writers are crazy people because sometimes, when we get a specific kind of rejection letter, we dance for joy. As I am, right now, because I recently recieved a rejection letter from F&SF (Fantasy and Science Fiction magazine, one of the top spec-fic markets). This rejection letter was actually signed by the editor to whom my submission was addressed. This means it made it up out of the slush pile, past the poor, overworked editors, up to Mr. Van Gelder himself.
So what if it got rejected? Gordon Van Gelder read my story!
This story has gotten three personal rejection letters from top markets so far. I have no idea why. I'm not actually terribly fond of it--not in the way I'm deeply, parentally in love with some of my other work. I like it, and I think it works well enough for the experiment it is. I've spent two year haphazardly editing it and sort of treating it like a redheaded stepchild. It's the story that was always good enough to be revised again. Now I've sent it off into the world and people like it. Not enough to accept it, but enough to send it up the chain, enough that maybe the next time I submit a story, my name will get recognized. Or the time after that.
This whole weird experience has brought home to me as a writer what they've been telling us in Denver: No publisher ever has any real idea why a given book is a success. Critics, editors and writers can point at things like good timing, a fantastic title, a brilliant marketing department, or just plain good writing, but nobody really knows.
Sadly, I've about run out of top-tier spec-fic markets that fit this story's genre (I tend to write in weird subgenres, which limits my market. Except for the novel, which is YA high fantasy. I still don't know how that happened). The question now is: Do I submit to a more literary journal that accepts experimental fiction (It's structurally experimental. I'm fond of Western storytelling) and pays more, or do I try to publish in a spec-fic market that will pay less, but will have the kind of audience I want for my work?
-----
*beware sarcasm
At any rate, today's installment of my ever-so-fascinating journal (being read by millions, of course*) is devoted to that most common of editorial responses: the rejection letter.
Writers are crazy people because sometimes, when we get a specific kind of rejection letter, we dance for joy. As I am, right now, because I recently recieved a rejection letter from F&SF (Fantasy and Science Fiction magazine, one of the top spec-fic markets). This rejection letter was actually signed by the editor to whom my submission was addressed. This means it made it up out of the slush pile, past the poor, overworked editors, up to Mr. Van Gelder himself.
So what if it got rejected? Gordon Van Gelder read my story!
This story has gotten three personal rejection letters from top markets so far. I have no idea why. I'm not actually terribly fond of it--not in the way I'm deeply, parentally in love with some of my other work. I like it, and I think it works well enough for the experiment it is. I've spent two year haphazardly editing it and sort of treating it like a redheaded stepchild. It's the story that was always good enough to be revised again. Now I've sent it off into the world and people like it. Not enough to accept it, but enough to send it up the chain, enough that maybe the next time I submit a story, my name will get recognized. Or the time after that.
This whole weird experience has brought home to me as a writer what they've been telling us in Denver: No publisher ever has any real idea why a given book is a success. Critics, editors and writers can point at things like good timing, a fantastic title, a brilliant marketing department, or just plain good writing, but nobody really knows.
Sadly, I've about run out of top-tier spec-fic markets that fit this story's genre (I tend to write in weird subgenres, which limits my market. Except for the novel, which is YA high fantasy. I still don't know how that happened). The question now is: Do I submit to a more literary journal that accepts experimental fiction (It's structurally experimental. I'm fond of Western storytelling) and pays more, or do I try to publish in a spec-fic market that will pay less, but will have the kind of audience I want for my work?
-----
*beware sarcasm