A few words with Neil Clarke on his world dominating submission management system

Anyone who writes science fiction or fantasy should know Neil Clarke, editor and publisher of Clarkesworld Magazine, which this past weekend became the first online magazine to win the Best Semiprozine Hugo Award. Not only is Neil's Clarkesworld one of the most exciting genre magazines out there, he played a vital role in saving the semiprozine award when the World Science Fiction Society attempted to eliminate it.  Through semiprozine.org, Neil rallied resistance to this change by showing how magazines like Clarkesworld, Interzone, Weird Tales, The New York Review of Science Fiction, and many others are a vital part of the genre scene, publishing stories and analysis you won't find anywhere else.

However, beyond his work as an editor and promoter of semiprozines, Neil is touching the lives of SF/F writers in a much more subtle manner--he is the creator of the submission management system which is taking over the genre world. Originally created by Neil for Clarkesworld, the system has now spread to Asimov's, Fantasy Magazine, Lightspeed Magazine, Electric Velocipede and other magazines.

Neil's system is incredibly easy to use. Unlike other online submission systems, you don't need to create an account to keep track of your submissions. Simply go to the magazine's website and enter your name, email address, cover letter and other information into the system. You can then upload your manuscript in either a .rtf or .doc format. Once you submit, you receive an email confirmation with a link to check on your submission's status.

And that's where Neil's system can turn into a major case of writer addiction. When you first submit, your sub is marked in the "received" category. In some of the variations on his system you will even see your place in the queue. For example, when I submitted to Lightspeed Magazine a while back, my initial queue rank was number 14, a number which quickly fell. It was then briefly "under review" before belly flopping into the Slush God's rejection pool.

While it might be tempting to hit "refresh" over and over when your submission is under review, the value of Neil's system has nothing to do with seeing that "under review" category magically change to an acceptance (although Neil has remarked before that, at least with Clarkesworld Magazine, being "under review" for more than a few days is a good sign). Instead, the value of Neil's system is that you know your submission was received, that it is being considered, and that it isn't lost in some email or snail mail postal hell.

Because I was so impressed, I asked Neil what lead to the system's creation, about his thoughts on online submissions, and more.

Me: What led you to create your online submission system?

Neil: Gmail. Prior to 2009, we (Clarkesworld) used Gmail for all our submissions. It was fine when we started, but as the volume of submissions grew, it became increasingly obvious that this wasn't the right tool for the job. I've been designing online systems since the mid-80's, so when I couldn't find something better, I built one.

Does the system save time over postal submissions?

Postal delivery is obviously slower than electronic delivery, but the time saved isn't just that bit at the beginning and end of the submissions process. My slush readers are scattered around the country and we all have instant access to the submissions, comments, and responses. I know one paper-submissions market that makes monthly exchanges of paper between their reader and editor. That's an inefficiency we don't have to worry about.

In your opinion, does an online submission system allow magazine to attract stories from a more diverse pool of writers than is possible with postal submissions?

Allow is probably the wrong word. There are more people with postal access than internet access. What makes the difference is the decreased cost and increased convenience of electronic submission over printing, mailing and providing return postage. I don't have hard numbers, but I do hear from many grateful authors outside the US. They often cite the high price of international postage as a deterrent to sending stories to non-local markets. You can find some of these comments in response to this post.

In addition to your Clarkesworld, other genre magazines now using your system include Asimov's, Fantasy Magazine, Lightspeed Magazine, and Electric Velocipede. Why are so many genre magazines gravitating toward online submissions, and is there anything in particular about your system which makes other magazines want to use it?

Online submissions are convenient and very popular with authors. To me, it seems more like common sense and good business. I understand why some people are reluctant to embrace this format, but I think not taking them will put those markets at a disadvantage. The editors that aren't taking electronic submissions know what they are doing. They don't consider the disadvantages to be significant enough to change yet.

I've been more than willing to share my experiences with online submissions with other editors. The magazines you've mentioned (and a few more) adopted my system because they thought it would work for them. It's not always a perfect fit, but the ideas I get from the other editors are quite good and worth the time it takes to implement them, so we all end up benefiting from the deal.

At Clarkesworld, what is your process for working submissions through the system? How many editors or slush readers take part?

1. A slush reader (myself included) claims the next story in the queue and downloads the document.

2. The story is read.

3. The reader goes back to the system, tags the story for acceptance or rejection and includes a few comments for my eyes only.

4. I review the processed submissions and send out the appropriate letters to the authors.

5. The submission is closed and archived.

There are five us reading slush. I'm first reader on 20-25% of all submissions.

Have there been any major bugs with your system? Any complaints or praise from people using it?

The only problems we've had with the system have been when well-intentioned tech people at a publication have tinkered with it. No real complaints. Mostly suggestions and thanks. There is always room for improvement.

Do you foresee any new developments with future versions of your system?

I originally designed the software for Clarkesworld and didn't intend to be distributing it. There are some changes I still need to make to help each magazine become a bit more independent. The system will also continue to receive upgrades from the editor's wishlists, but the majority of those will be invisible to authors.

The bad writer's tripping point

I received a fascinating email the other day from, to put it politely, a strange person who fancies himself a writer. He was ranting about someone who stole his novel idea more than a decade ago. Evidently this is a long-running concern and he constantly emails people about it, claiming to have new proof which will finally break open the conspiracy keeping him down.

I'm not sure why he decided to gift me with his rant--he probably spams people around the world with his cries for attention. But if his email is any indication of his writing ability, he ought to beg people to steal his ideas. Because that's the only way he'll ever receive any attention as a writer.

I mean, damn, you couldn't even read this email. Each paragraph was dense and convoluted, with non sequiturs assaulting bad similes and analogies until you wondered if this was written by those mythical monkeys banging on a typewriter. Except a million of them hadn't produced Hamlet--they'd merely caused me to stop reading this person's email.

Much has been made of late about tipping points, that moment when a "previously rare phenomenon becomes rapidly and dramatically more common." While this term is most often applied to larger sociological concepts like the stock market and mob mentality, I believe it also applies to individuals and how they read.

Call it the tripping point, for the moment when someone trips over too much bad writing and refuses to read a sentence more.

For example, when I opened that person's email I was initially curious as to why this fellow believed someone had stolen his novel idea. While such occurrences are rare, they are the stuff of writer nightmares, so I decided to read on. Never mind that the first paragraph of his email didn't make a lot of sense--I was determined to discover what was going on here.

But then I tripped over the second poorly organized paragraph. Irritated, I scanned the email but didn't see the information I was searching for. As a result I refused to read any more and deleted the rant.

Readers will tolerate bad writing only up to a certain point. A few typos won't doom your story with a reader, but add in too many grammatical flip-flops and the moment quickly comes when readers drop your story. If you have set up a beautiful character in your novel but have her do something strikingly out of character, a reader may throw your book across the room and never return--even if the reader has invested hours into reading your novel. Likewise if your story loses its internal logic, or ignores basic elements of plot structure or pacing.

While I'm focusing on the tripping point in fiction writing, the concept applies to all areas of writing--be it a short story, a novel, anemail, an essay, a report, or a grocery list. That's why one of the best ways to improve your writing is to reread your work as if you are a new reader approaching these words for the first time. Try to push any background knowledge or information on the subject from your mind and read your writing with fresh eyes.

Anyone else ever encountered a tripping point in someone's writing? What made your throw down that book or delete an email and refuse to read any more?

Note: This post was edited in response to feedback from several readers.

Send that book receipt to Tin House. You'll still be rejected

Last week I wrote about Tin House's plan to only accept submissions if they were "accompanied by a receipt for a hardcover or paperback from a real-life bookstore." While I understood the literary journal's desire to help struggling brick and mortar bookstores, their snub at people reading e-books or buying from online bookstores rubbed me wrong.

Today I noticed a fascinating addition to the Tin House submission game: On the Duotrope Digest list of fiction markets with no submission acceptances, Tin House ranked number 1 (and they ranked number 3 in poetry markets with no acceptances). Over the last 12 months Duotrope received reports of 511 submissions to Tin House either being rejected or withdrawn by their authors, all without a single acceptance. Of those rejections, almost 83% received a form reject.

Now Duotrope isn't the be all and end all in submission reporting. It is quite likely some authors made into Tin House through their slush pile. But the Duotrope numbers suggest the odds of this happening are laughingly low. So I guess it really doesn't matter whether or not you include a book receipt when you submit to Tin House--either way, you're merely taking the slow route to a form rejection.

On the learning tool that is genre gossip

So I'm working on my novel when an email pops up from a writer I know. Said writer is in fits because his publisher has yet again pushed back the release date of his first novel. Naturally I sympathized. I also suggested the writer raise this issue in public. Maybe airing this delay will cause the publisher to stop jerking my friend around.

My friend was horrified at the suggestion. "I could be blacklisted," he says. "You know how it is."

Unfortunately, I do.

What my friend means is that word spreads easily in the genre world. There are things we discuss publicly and things we whisper in secluded conversations. And may the literary gods help the writer who mixes up their public and private comments.

Among the items we're not supposed to discuss in public: Juicy details about which publishers and editors rip off authors. Spicy tales of affairs and betrayals between writers who maintain a public facade that all is well. Inside details about the financial well-being of magazines which sit on our stories for years. All of this is kept private--until the gossip snowballs into a force which can't be ignored. Likewise, a few brave writers may finally mention the issue in public after deciding the risks to their career are offset by the need for others to know.

The funny thing is that the need to gossip is one of the basic drives of humanity precisely because gossip is both the most inaccurate AND most accurate of information sources. Only a fool totally trusts gossip. Only a fool totally ignores it.

At a convention last year, I listened to a famous science fiction author discuss working with genre editors. He mentioned one editor who'd been forced out of a high-profile position by that editor's publisher. I was shocked to learn the details on why this had happened and told the author he ought to write about this so others knew how poorly the editor had been treated. The author looked at me with a waning smile as if I was a newbie who didn't understand the publishing and genre worlds. And at that moment maybe I was acting like one.

Often this genre gossip needs to be publicly aired, such as when it deals with publishers who take advantage of writers. Such wrongs only take place when there is a wall of silence around the publisher's actions. By way of example, I mention the recent revelations about Night Shade Books. Personally, I love Night Shade Books. In my opinion they are one of the best genre presses around. So imagine my surprise to discover they have generated a good deal of bad will among the authors they publish. While there are always two sides to every story--and I hope Night Shade straightens this out soon--the interesting fact is how many of the writers involved discussed this issue among themselves before it became public.

In short, it can pay for writers to listen to genre gossip.

My point is that to succeed as a genre writer you need access to more than simply the public information. Go to conventions and talk to writers and editors. Listen to the conversations. Read the posts in closed discussion groups. You'll learn more genre gossip than you ever knew existed. A lot of it will be crap. But some of it might help you succeed as a writer.

2010 Young Writers Award

Young Writers Online is an online community dedicated to supporting young writers. If you are a young person considering a literary career, this site is a great place to immerse yourself in feedback, information, and the ins and outs of wordsmithing.

The site has now announced their first annual Young Writers Award, which will be judged by yours truly. The award is open to poets, short fiction writers, and novelists--the only requirements are that the writer must be under age 21 and be an active member of Young Writers Online. The prize is $250.

For complete information on submitting for the award, please see their website. The deadline to submit is Sept. 1st, 2010.

When the New York Times becomes merely another blog

The other day I wrote about a New York Times article which described doctors taking the copyright to their patients' web postings as a means of preventing online criticism. Thanks to everyone who linked to or wrote about the issue, including Cory Doctorow at Boing Boing and Thomas Gideon at The Command Line.

After I wrote that post and Boing Boing linked to it, an interesting thing happened: Someone at The New York Times rewrote the article. Here is the original section of the article I quoted:

"The group Medical Justice, which helps protect doctors from meritless malpractice suits, advises its members to have patients sign an agreement that gives the doctor copyright over a Web posting if the patient mentions the doctor or practice."

After attention was brought to that article, here is how the Times rewrote it:

"The group Medical Justice, which helps protect doctors from meritless malpractice suits, advises its members to have patients sign an agreement that gives doctors more control over what patients post online."

As I mentioned in an update to my original post, obviously that's a big difference.

It's worth noting that while the article I quoted from was dated June 1, 2010, it was actually published mid-morning on March May 31 (corrected, per comment below) on the NY Times website. That's where I originally read the article and what prompted my post about it. The next day, the print edition of the Times contained the article with the second version of the quote. Obviously someone was upset with the first version and demanded a change.

If the Times made a mistake by printing the first version, then a change would be warranted. However, they have given no explanation for the change or even run a simple correction notice. I have written to the Times' public editor Clark Hoyt about this matter but have heard no response.

While my journalism days were limited to editing a small newspaper in the South (The Tuskegee News), if I had tried doing what the Times has done here I'd have been fired. It doesn't matter if the Times made this change before their print edition hit the streets--they published a news article on their website, where it sat for at least 8 hours in the form I originally read. To then change the article without a notice is not only poor journalism, it calls into question the standards of the supposed newspaper of record. It also makes me suspect the original article is correct and that the Times accidentally revealed the trade secret to Medical Justice's "tool" for dealing with online criticism.

I have been faithfully reading the Times for two decades, and I hope they will explain this change. Otherwise they will have demonstrated that they are merely a fancy blog, willing to change and rewrite their reporting depending on which way the wind blows. And hell, that might even be an insult to blogs. After all, there are many bloggers out there who wouldn't rewrite their posts without an explanation.

Go to the doctor, lose the copyright to your writings

Today's New York Times has an interesting article about people being sued for critiquing businesses online. Most of the article deals with those crap-filed strategic lawsuits against public participation (SLAPPs), but what really caught my eye is an item on page 2 halfway down the article. To quote:

"The group Medical Justice, which helps protect doctors from meritless malpractice suits, advises its members to have patients sign an agreement that gives the doctor copyright over a Web posting if the patient mentions the doctor or practice." (See update at bottom for more on this quote.)

Are you freaking kidding me? As a writer, I have a good bit of interest in protecting the copyrights to my works. And now if I go to my doctor I might be asked to sign over my copyright to the M.D.! Hell no!

According to a page on the Medical Justice website, it appears the NY Times article is correct. While the Medical Justice website doesn't publicly state that doctors should take the copyright from people, the site does say that their "solution" means that "Patients are free to post online. In the rare event the feedback is not constructive, doctors have a tool to address fictional or slanderous posts."

That tool? Likely a DMCA takedown notice. If a patient has signed over the copyright to their online writings to their doctor, all the doctor has to do is flash that signed document to the offending website and the nasty words will be removed. No lawsuit and no fuss, at least for the doctor.

Medical Justice and the doctors using this copyright grab will likely defend their actions by saying it only applies when someone mentions their doctor or practice in their online writings. But I doubt the legal document which transfers copyright is that specific. For example, the Medical Justice website states their "solution" gives doctors a way to "address fictional or slanderous posts."

Fictional? Does this mean that if my novel includes a doctor as a character then my real doctor can claim that novel's copyright? Could be. After all, if the legal document addresses fictional posts, then the doctor could claim that the character is really him. Plenty of people have sued fiction writers for similar reasons, and if your doctor has a form giving him your copyright ... well, you get the idea.

Perhaps that is far-fetched. But the simple truth is that signing over the copyright to your writings is a bad idea for any writer--especially when you are not being paid to do so and must do it to receive medical care.

I hope writers raise a stink about this. Because if Medical Justice and doctors' groups succeed in making this copyright form the standard for receiving medical care, you better believe other professional groups and businesses will soon do the same. And if that happens, all bets are off for both freedom of speech and the ability of writers to own the copyrights to their works.

UPDATE: Around 11:00 pm tonight I noticed the NY Times had changed the quote I referenced above. Their article now reads:

"The group Medical Justice, which helps protect doctors from meritless malpractice suits, advises its members to have patients sign an agreement that gives doctors more control over what patients post online."

Obviously that's a big difference. I looked for a correction notice but they haven't posted one. I'm kicking myself for not having copied the original article. However, others noticed this same quote, including The Legal Satyricon and this blog, which posted the original article. If the NY Times misquoted Medical Justice, they need to run a correction, not simply change the article without notice. I'm also wondering if the NY Times accidentally revealed the trade secret to Medical Justice's "tool" for dealing with online criticism. Either way, it is still disturbing that doctors would do this to limit their patients' free speech--whether or not copyright is involved. But until I hear why the NY Times changed their information, I'm sticking with my original reading of the article.

UPDATE 2: I have written a longer post about the Times making this change without a correction notice or explanation. This is extremely poor journalism on their part.

A personal rejection letter, sent to the literary journal which took 6 years to reject my story

Dear Pretentious Literary Journal:

I was pretty naive six years ago, believing that publishing my fiction in your journal was a desirable thing. I mean, you have a circulation of barely 1,000 printed copies, the majority of which no doubt sit "archived" in your editorial offices alongside your mighty slush pile. Still, I was once young and bright-eyed and figured that if only you'd bestow an acceptance upon my grovelling head I would immediately be thrust into the stratosphere of literary superstardom.

Well, you'll be happy to hear I recently received your form rejection for that submission. Such bold, daring use of scissors and decades old xerox technology. I especially liked how you scratched out "Dear author" and wrote in my name with a blue pen. And since this was a form rejection mailed SIX YEARS after the submission was sent in, I deeply appreciate your apology for taking so long to respond (or as you put it, "the very protracted review of your piece"). And kudos for the comment about having truly wanted to publish my story ... until circumstances dictated otherwise. I'm sure the hundreds of other authors whose stories you've sat upon all these years, and who received this same form rejection, thrilled like I did at your overly sincere words.

But the funny thing is that in the last six years my view on publishing has changed. My experience editing storySouth and running their Million Writers Award for best online fiction made me realize there is no point in wasting my time submitting to second-tier literary journals like yourself. You say you publish 1000 copies twice a year? Well, many online journals receive that many readers every day. You don't even have a proper website so people can order copies of your journal. What is with that?

I considered electronically scratching out the "Pretentious Literary Journal" term above and writing in your real name.   But in the end, I decided against it.  Because the truth is, you don't need a rejection letter from me.  Your behind-the-times attitudes and inability to handle such a simple process as a slush pile means you have already set yourself up for the ultimate rejection--failure.  It has been years since I've seen a copy of your literary journal in a bookstore. It's been longer than that since I've heard anyone mention a story, or poem, or essay published in your pages. You have made yourself obsolete. You have rejected yourself better than I ever could.

Truth be told, I'd long ago given up on that submission and assumed it went to the great shredder in the sky. So thanks for sending me the form rejection six years late.  It made me laugh.  It made me realize why I long ago stopped submitting to places like you.

Still, I wish you the best in your future publishing experiences. But somehow, I don't think you'll like what the future brings.

Sincerely,

Jason Sanford

What's with all the depressing stories?

After reading the 190 notable stories of 2009 for this year's Million Writers Award, I have one question for all the writers and readers out there: What's with all the depressing stories making the rounds?

Don't get me wrong. I love depressing stories when they're well done. (Note to readers: cliches about life to follow.) After all, life isn't an endless refrain of Don't Worry, Be Happy. Without falling into the valleys of life, you can't understand why the peaks are so f'in high. Ups and downs, good and bad, happiness and tragedy--they're all part of the whole being alive and human gig.

So I do enjoy stories and books on depressing subjects and situations. A perfect example is Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy, which is not only one of my all-time favorite novels but also a damn-depressing book. To balance that out, I also love uplifting books like Life of Pi by Yann Martel. Not that this novel is a happy happy book either--I mean, the main character loses everyone he loves and spends months in a lifeboat with a tiger. But despite the bad things that happen in Life of Pi , there is a glimmer of hope to the story. You finish the book feeling that life isn't all bad. That good things are possible.

And that's all I ask from my reading--that some of the stories give me that glimmer of hope.

But as I read those 190 notable stories, I felt under siege by the forces of depression. Incest. Violence. Murder. Betrayal. Anger. Extremely unhappy endings and beginnings and middles. There were very few uplifting stories on the list. I wondered what had happened to stories like the wonderful "FridayAfternoons on Bus 51" by Sruthi Thekkiam, which I picked for the Million Writers Award top ten a few years back.

While I haven't done a happy/depressing analysis of the previous Million Writers Award notable story lists, my sense is that this is the most angst-filling list ever. And perhaps this is only natural. The world has been going through a bad run of late, what with the economic near-collapse, wars, and so on. So perhaps it is only natural that the stories being published recently are overall darker in tone than a few years ago.

Again, don't take me wrong. In a few days, when I release my 10 favorite stories from the notable list, most of those stories won't be happy happy. In fact, it's possible all of them will feature a dark display of anger, violence, murder, betrayal, and evil deeds. I'm picking the best stories possible. If they're all depressing, so be it.

Still, is it too much to ask for a few rays of sunshine once in a while?

Living in a world where most writers suck

I received an email last week from an editor of a well-known online magazine. Said editor was venting about online submissions, and how the slush pile was overwhelming her because it was "too easy" for horrible writers to send in their stories.

The worst part, she said, were all the submissions from new writers who couldn't write. According to this editor (and here I'm paraphrasing), these new writers have not been taught proper grammar, can't be bothered with correct spelling, believe video games and bad movies are plausible inspirations for plots and characters, and see fanfic as not only fun but a legit way to become an author.

I should note this editor was venting in private, and said I could write about our conversation as long as I didn't identify her or her magazine. I also don't agree with her assessment--her critique treads too much toward an over-generalized complaint about younger generations being bad writers. I find bad writing to be cross-generational and not caused by someone loving video games or fanfic. If you turned Shakespeare loose on gaming or fanfic, he'd likely come up with some great stories.

He'd also come up with some horrible stories--don't forget that before Shakespeare wrote Hamlet he penned Titus Andronicus, a play so bad Harold Bloom claimed it could only be enjoyed if directed by Mel Brooks. Which is the other reason I'm not overly worried about the writing ability of new writers. A new writer who produces bad stories might simply need more practice before blossoming into a 21st-century Shakespeare.

Still, this is an interesting insight into the mind of an editor selecting stories for publication, and actually ties in with something I blogged about last month, which is that if you write a very good story you have a decent chance of having it published. The truth is most fiction submissions suck like a gasping chest wound. Editors usually only read a few paragraphs of such suck before flushing these abominations down the rejection drain.

Don't believe this? See Sturgeon's Law for a refresher course in crud.

But if you actually write a good story, odds are you'll eventually land a publication. And this applies to new writers, established writers, and every writer in between.

This also makes be wonder about the writers who simply don't get it. Those whose writing doesn't improve with practice. Who embrace the truth of Sturgeon's Law like a long-spurned lover. When I worked as an editor I met and read the stories of far too many writers who believed they had the right stuff. Never mind that these "writers" couldn't tell a cliche like "right stuff" from the wrong stuff, and wrote as if their secret desire was for their readers to commit ink-stained seppuku. But each one was still absolutely certain he or she was destined for literary greatness.

We've all met writers like these. They're on every writing forum and in every writing group. When they discover you write fiction, they pull out their self-published epic fantasy about a humble garbageman discovering a ring of power ... and ask if you'll review it. You try cutting them down with the machine gun of criticism and they overwhelm you like a hoard of librarian zombies out for literary brains.

And I think that's what my editor friend was getting at. As someone on the front lines of publishing, she feels overrun by writers who refuse to learn sound storytelling techniques. Who don't try to improve with every story they write. Who dabble in the cliched and the hack-worn, and look at honest feedback as a poisonous snake about to strike.

Naturally I pointed this out to my friend. I mentioned Sturgeon's Law. I said this was how fiction writing had always been. That's most writers simply suck. That this fact would never change, and she had to get over it.

Her response? That thanks to the internet, these bad writers have the ability to spam her with their horrible visions of suckiness, so she doesn't care if they've always been around. She simply wants the pain to stop!

As you can imagine, the conversation between me and my editor friend never reached a hand-holding, huggie-huggie moment. Personally, I love online submissions, but it's obvious my friend thinks they open the door to a great stinking mass of bad writing. I also subscribe wholeheartedly to Sturgeon's Law. While my friend understands the law, I suspect she'll only be happy after personally shooting every bad writer in the world for wasting her time with submissions.

Guess that's enough rambling about all this.  In fact, I can't even say what the point of this essay is, except to note that we live in a world where most writers suck. And if you let that get to you, you are in for a long, painful spell of slush pile hell.

Shooting for that 1 in 350 chance

There's a fascinating thread at Clarkesworld Magazine people should read, where editor Neil Clarke comments about submissions. According to Neil, out of the last 4180 submissions they received, their acceptance rate averaged around 1 in 350 submitted stories.

What fascinates me is Neil stating that "near misses" (which I take to mean submissions that almost made the cut) number about 1 in 35. That means for Clarkesworld, out of every 350 submissions there is one acceptance and 10 near misses. Everything else didn't have a chance in hell for some reason, be it bad writing, bad plots, wrong story for the wrong market, and so on.

It's often said that submitting fiction is a numbers game, and this proves it. But these numbers likewise show that if you write a great or very good story which meets the guidelines for a particular market, you actually have decent odds. Because what these numbers tell me is that the vast majority of submitters to Clarkesworld have no chance of landing an acceptance or a near miss. Instead, they are so out of the ballpark that they aren't even competing in the same game as the writers Clarkesworld usually publishes. And based on my editing experience, this is probably true with most magazines.

Too bad you can't cash good karma

Want to be a writer? Then be prepared for jerks continually trying to take advantage of you. After all, to these jerks what you do isn't real work. So why should you profit off your labor?

To illustrate this point, here's a wonderful email email exchange between author Steve Almond and literary agent/writer Mark Reiter titled "The Payoff Will Be in Good Karma." Basically, Mark wants Steve to contribute to a book he's editing with Richard Sandomir called The Enlightened Bracketologist: The Final Four of Everything.

When Steve asks how much contributors would be paid, Mark says, "Alas, there’s no money in it for contributors." But not to worry, the writing will only take Steve "three hours tops" and will be fun to do. Mark adds, "Now, the good news. Assuming that you don't do anything with your contribution too far before our March '07 pub date, you have all the rights to the material. There’s no reason you can't sell your bracket to the appropriate publication as a kind of first serial."

When Steve persists, directly asking "who IS getting paid, if not the contributors," Mark replies that "Richard Sandomir and I are sharing an advance of $50,000. That’s $25,000 each." But he insists this advance doesn't mean they can pay contributors. "We can't pay some people and not others, but if we did offer payment--less than $500 would be pointless--to everyone, the math says we’d be in the red. Royalties in excess of the advance (should they materialize) go to Richard and me. That’s the economics of this project." Marks then implies this book is essentially a charity case because "I collaborate once or twice a year on books with celebrated people where my minimum fee is $250k, so devoting six months to this project for $16k pretax is costing me plenty. I just like the idea of the book."

The best quote: When Mark says "the payoff (for contributors) will be in good karma." That causes Steve to go off, ranting "If asking contributors to write for free then collecting 50K is good karma, what's bad karma, Mark?"

I almost couldn't believe this exchange was real, but it appears to be true. I mean, you have a $50,000 advance but can't pay contributors? That's simply wrong. Yes, there are times when exposure for a writer is worth taking a lesser pay check, but this is absolutely not one of those cases. If Mark felt so strongly that this was a book worth doing because it was "fun," then he should have put his advance toward paying contributors.

Anyway, if you want to be a writer read this exchange. And remember there's nothing wrong in demanding to know what a publisher or editor will pay for your work. If someone doesn't answer that most simple of questions--or hems and haws in their response--remember it isn't good karma for writers to be shafted while someone else lands a big payday.

A few writing updates (including success with foreign reprint markets)

I haven't posted about my writing progress for a few weeks. I'm still tracking my writing, but figured it wasn't worth bugging people about. I'm basically spending 8-10 hours a week writing and revising short stories. I'm still trying to transition to my novel, but I still need to finish a few more stories.

The big thing recently was the Nebula nomination, but other exciting news includes:

• Stomping on Yeti named me as one of "25 Authors Worth Watching in 2010 and Beyond."
  
• Sold two more stories to the Czech SF magazine Ikarie--"Here We Are, Falling Through Shadows" and my Nebula finalist novella "Sublimation Angels."
• Sold "When Thorns Are the Tips of Trees" to the Russian SF magazine ESLI.
• Sold "Here We Are, Falling Through Shadows" to the French book anthology Ténèbres.

Obviously the last two weeks have been great for reprints. Author Mike Resnick often says that he makes a significant portion of his income on reprint sales to foreign markets. I see what he means.

For foreign markets to submit to, check out Douglas Smith's Foreign Market List.

Samples from Tales of the Unanticipated issue 30

Tales of the Unanticipated is a long-running semi-pro magazine, having been published consistently since 1986. Edited by Eric Heideman, the magazine features a range of science fiction, fantasy, and horror, and is now an annual trade paperback 7.5 x 9.75 inches in size containing 130 plus pages and a full-color glossy cover. Among the authors they have published over the years include Damon Knight and Neil Gaiman.

TOTU issue 30 will be published April 1st and includes stories by Eleanor Arnason, Stephen Dedman, Martha A. Hood, Patricia S. Bowne, Patricia Russo, and many others, including myself. The issue will be priced at $14.95. But until April 1, you can pre-order your copy for only $12.50.

To entice more people to buy and subscribe, TOTU is offering samples of a number of stories from issue 30. These PDF download samples include:

• My own "A Twenty-First Century Fairy Love Story"
  
• "If You Enjoyed This Story..." by Sarah Totten
• "Personal Jesus" by Martha A. Hood
• "Right There" by William Mingin
• "Sticky" by Patricia Russo
• "Tacklesmooches" by Douglas J. Lane
• "The Danger of Her Muse" by T.J. Berg

I should also note that TOTU is very supportive of new writers. Many writers have received their first genre publication in TOTU, including myself. But be aware that TOTU has very specific guidelines. Basically, they open for submissions for about a month each year, then give each story a lot of consideration and feedback. Notice that last word: FEEDBACK! When Eric has rejected my stories, he has included a good bit of dead-on feedback from all of the TOTU editors on exactly why they passed on the story. As any new writer can tell you, this level of feedback from a magazine is almost unheard of these days. So while their response time is slow due to this feedback, the payback is immense.

So consider purchasing issue 30, or a subscription, and help support this great semi-prozine.

A few updates on Nebula nominations, Czech magazine Ikarie, and my writing

Thought I'd touch on a few updates this morning.

• Yesterday I received an entire year's worth of the Czech SF magazine Ikarie. Wow! What a beautiful magazine. They reprinted two of my stories in 2009, "The Ships Like Clouds, Risen by Their Rain" and "When Thorns Are the Tips of Trees," and I ordered additional issues to explore what is one of the best SF magazines in Europe. At right is the issue containing my "Ships Like Clouds" story. I plan to do a blog post at some point about this great reprint market, along the lines of what I wrote about for the Russian magazine ESLI.
   
• Speaking of "The Ships Like Clouds, Risen by Their Rain," Rachel Swirsky has selected the story as one of her Nebula Award novelette nominations (while the story was originally published in Interzone in 2008, it is eligible due to first being published in the U.S. in 2009 in Year's Best SF 14). Many thanks! Rachel is posting about her nominations on Jeff Vandermeer's website. Here are her short story picks, and her novelette picks.
   
• Speaking of Nebula nominations, remember the deadline is Feb. 15. Here are my nominations. Of my selections, the following are doing well but need more love from SFWA members to push them over the top: "Hooves and the Hovel of Abdel Jameela" by Saladin Ahmed (in the short story category with 9 nominations); "A Memory of Wind" by Rachel Swirsky (in the novelete category with 11 nominations, "Sinner, Baker, Fabulist, Priest; Red Mask, Black Mask, Gentleman, Beast" by Eugie Foster (in the same category with 9 nominations); and The Windup Girl by Paolo Bacigalupi (in the novel category with 11 nominations). Remember, the top five six selections in each category make the final ballot, so don't forget to vote!
   
• In addition to Rachel Swirsky, I also want to thank the people who nominated my other stories ("When Thorns Are the Tips of Trees" and "Sublimations Angels") in the Nebula's short story and novella categories. I don't know who you are, but many thanks. While I'm under no illusion that the stories will make the final ballot, it's nice to know people enjoy my work.
   
• Finally, for those keeping track--and why would anyone but myself being doing that?--last week I spent 7.5 hours editing and revising short stories, 2 hours submitting stories to markets, 0 hours working on my novel, and way too much time online because I was launching this year's Million Writers Award. But I'm giving myself a pass on that online time because the award is now up and running!

A few writing updates

I've been busy with family this weekend--which isn't a complaint, merely an observation--so only minor updates for now. First, here are three new reviews of Interzone 226, which includes my fantasy story "Into the Depths of Illuminated Seas":

• Colin Harvey at Suite 101 recommends the story, although he prefers my science fiction works;
• Kathleen M. Kemmerer at Tangent recommends the story for people who like gothic fiction;
• John Fair calls is a "fine story."

I've now finished my third week of tracking my writing life. Here are the numbers:

• Time spent on new short story writing: 6 hours
• Time spent revising and editing short stories: 2.5 hours
• Time spent on my novel: 0
• Time spent on Facebook/Twitter/Blog: 4 hours
• Time spent reading the news and doing other worthless stuff online: 5 hours

The good news is I cut back on wasting time on the internet. Bad news: I also cut back on my writing. Try to do better next week.

Tracking my writing (and flushing my life away on the internet)

Last week I mentioned tracking my writing life. As such, here are my writing times for the second week of 2010:

• Time spent on new short story writing: 3 hours
• Time spent revising and editing short stories: 3 hours
• Time spent on my novel: 3 hours
• Time spent on communications with editors/fellow writers/others: 2 hours
• Time spent on Facebook/Twitter/Blog: 4 hours
• Time spent reading the news and doing other stupid stuff online: 10 hours

Okay, I'm really ticked at wasting so much time on the internet this week. Writing content for my blog and talking with friends on Facebook doesn't bother me. But 10 hours reading news and goofing off online? Crap. Did I really gain anything from those 10 hours I couldn't have learned in 30 minutes? No. Especially when this time took away from sleep, exercise, and reading. This falls back on not wasting your life and is something I'll work hard to fix this week.

In some good news, I received Interzone 226 with my new story in it, finished a rewrite of my novel summary, made good headway on a new SF story, donated blood and money to the Red Cross, and spent time with my family. So I wasn't a total salted garden slug.

Simultaneous submissions: Should you sim sub or not?

My tongue-in-cheek approach the other day on how to kill a writing career generated a great response from readers. In fact, a number of people suggested additional ways to kill your writing career, including the use of cliches, mixed metaphors, and peppering every sentence with gerunds. All great suggestions, and all ones any writer desiring a swift end to their career should embrace.

However, there was one suggestion I disagreed with: The use of simultaneous submissions.

The person who emailed this suggestion was an editor who'd been burned before by sim subs. And as a former editor, I totally agree sim subs are annoying.  Especially when you devote a considerable amount of time to reading a manuscript, only to discover it has already been accepted elsewhere.

But from a writer's point of view--and especially from a new writer's view--sim subs are seen as a way to break through the massive wall supposedly guarding publishing nirvana. If you spend months or years working on a manuscript, you don't want to submit to one place and then wait months or years before hearing a response. Not when you can submit that manuscript to five places at once.

The pros and cons of this approach have been discussed to death (for starters, see here, here, and here). Basically, submitting to multiple places increases the odds of a publishing bite. But you also run the risk of burning your relationship with editors and publishers. Why?  Because while everyone says don't sim sub to places that don't allow the practice, we all know this is exactly what writers do.

So what should a writer do? If you feel you must sim sub, here are my suggestions:

• If you are a new writer, sim sub to the top magazines and publishers in your genre until you receive either an acceptance or personalized, positive feedback on your work. From then on, submit to that place first. Continue to sim sub to other markets until you either receive positive responses from them, or earn enough publication credits to become a more established writer.
   
• If you are an established writer (i.e., with a few good publications under your belt), never sim sub. The odds are now against you, and sim subs might end up biting you hard.

The reasoning behind my strategy is simple. The odds of a top magazine or publisher picking up a new writer's manuscript are rather low, so the odds of being burned are also low. By using sim subs you increase the odds of landing that first publishing bite, which is such a career boaster that it's worth the risk.

However, once you are somewhat established, you have built up enough of a relationship with editors and publishers, or enough of a reputation, that sim subbing is a bad risk. So at this point submit one place at a time.

Now comes the big caveat: Sim subbing isn't the best way to get published!

The best way to becoming a published author is to continually improve your writing, seek feedback from other writers, and build relationships in your genre. Everything else, including worrying about sim subs, is mostly a waste of time.

I tried both approaches in my career. Early on, I sim subbed my short stories to every publication that wasn't dead and stinking. I had a few bites--but nothing to write home about--and got burned once--but the burn didn't scar me for life. I was also lucky because the editor I burned wasn't working in the genre I now focus my writing on.

So sim subbing didn't do much for me.  Instead, I started landing decent publications when I no longer worried too much about submitting. When I focused on my stories first, and only worried about submitting after the story was the best it could be. I also began submitting to editors with whom I'd built enough of a relationship that I knew they'd give my work an honest read.

That's my advice. Take it for what it is. I'm far from an established writer, but I have enough experience and publications to have seen what has worked and not worked for me.

For the record, I no longer sim sub, and wouldn't consider doing so again. That said, I also don't think sim subs will destroy your writing career, and they might even help new writers.

But always remember that sim subs can never take the places of improving your writing and building relationships.

How to kill a writing career

This afternoon while slaving away on the novel which will rocket me to the heights of literary superstardom -- maybe even to the level of Paris Hilton superstardom -- insight struck. I realized I was working way too hard at this writing gig. Instead of trying to succeed through hard work, talent, and dedication, there was a much better way to reach my fictional goals.

I simply needed to thin the writing herd.

Think about it. There are thousands of fiction writers and wanna-be authors in the world. As we all know, when one species overpopulates an ecosystem all creatures are at risk of starvation until the population stabilizes. So why not knock off the competition? This way the survivors -- and their fiction -- will naturally float to the top of an empty literary world.

With that in mind, here are some suggestions on how to destroy a writing career. Simply retitle these suggestions as positive advice -- such as "What every successful writer knows!" -- and send them to both budding writers and established pros. Budding writers won't realize the success you refer to is your own until AFTER their buds have been nipped, a la Barney Fife, while established pros are so cocky they won't recognize what's happening until they're knocking on heaven's remainder bin.

So do your part, and dump a little weed killer in the garden of literary delights by passing this "advice" to other fiction writers.

How to kill a writing career
Remember: Before sending this to a writer, retitle it in a positive way, such as "10 sure-fire ways to publishing success" or "What publishing insiders don't want you to know."

1. Heed the immortal writing advice of Allen Ginsberg: ''First thought, best thought." Revisions and rewriting should be left to those without the talent to be writers in the first place.
2. Proper spelling and grammar are traps to keep authors down. Dare to reach greatness by following your own linguistic path.
3. Only writers lacking vision worship coherent plots. So every time you sit down to write, mutter this simple chant: "James Joyce's Ulysses is a great novel. James Joyce's Ulysses is a great novel."
4. Write only what is popular and trendy. After all, if drunk and horny vampire biker chicks are the hot thing this year, imagine how much hotter they'll be when your book comes out three years from now.
5. Embrace adjectives. If one adjective is descriptive, why not five or six in a row?
6. Waste the readers' time. After all, if readers want to drink from the fountain of your literary greatness, it's up to them to pucker up and suck.
7. Write only when the muse moves you. Only bad writers force themselves to write every day. You answer only to your muse. And don't forget -- the muse loves to drink! Lots and lots of drink!
8. Guidelines are for writers afraid to push the boundaries. Not only defy every guideline you encounter, when submitting tell the editors you don't accept their limited ideas on what fiction they should publish. Be sure to also address submissions to "Dear Editor" to show these little people their proper place in the literary supernova that is you.
9. Continually act neurotic, paranoid, angry, annoyed, psychotic, or better yet, all of those at once. And remember, you can't be a great writer unless you are addicted to something obscure and weird. (Like wow man, that dried gnat excrement is nature's only truly righteous high!")
10. Flame wars are your friend. If you don't post a nasty repartee somewhere on the web at least once a day, how will you succeed as a writer? And be sure to engage in flame wars with other writers, editors, and literary agents. Nothing says you've arrived on the literary scene like a flame war!

Keeping track of my writing life

In the new year I plan to keep better track of my writing times, which I hope will push me to be more productive. So even if it does take me 20 hours to finish a short story, I'm optimistic this tracking will help me be write more fiction in 2010 than in 2009.

As such, here are my writing times for the first week of 2010:

• Time spent on new short story writing: 4 hours
• Time spent revising and editing short stories: 4.5 hours
• Time spent preparing one short story submission: .5 hour
• Time spent on my novel: 0
• Time spent on communications with editors/fellow writers: 1 hour
• Time spent on Facebook/Twitter/Blog: 3 hours
• Time spent reading the news and doing other stuff online: 5 hours

I'm not satisfied with those numbers, and aim to lower the amount of time reading the news online and increase the amount of time writing. While I work a full-time job in addition to my writing, if I have 8 hours to spend online (not all of which is goofing off, but a good part is) there is definitely more time in my life to devote to writing.

Unfortunately, I didn't keep track of my writing times last year, so I can't make a good comparison to what I want to accomplish this year. However, based on my Duotrope Digest submission tracking numbers, I wrote 8 new short stories in 2009, of which 5 were accepted and published (mostly in Interzone). I also wrote a large chunk of a novel.

My goals for 2010 are to write fewer short stories but to complete my current novel and finish the rough draft of a second. I'll be giving weekly updates on the status of these projects as a way to keep me honest and productive. So feel free to call me nasty names if I slack off over the next 12 months.