The single best way to attract an editor's attention and be taken seriously is to look like a pro.
What do I mean by that?
I mean that every tiny detail of your submission looks like you know what you're doing, like you've done your research, like this whole writing thing matters.
The tiniest detail.
But too many writers fail to learn these things.
Granted, in the world of online submissions, it doesn't matter quite as much as it used to. It's easier than ever to make manuscript alterations when it comes time to actually publish a submitted story.
But appearances really do matter.
So here's my list of those tiny details that show me you're serious about this writing thing. I want to publish authors who are serious. Most items are followed by a link to an article I found particularly helpful. I expect you to click through and read them:
1. Your cover letter
Your cover letter should be short, sweet, and to the point. Recognize that cover letters for short story submissions and cover letters for novel submissions are NOT the same. You should NEVER include a story synopsis in a short story submission. The story is short enough. It can speak for itself. Plus I should be able to figure out the basic gist of the plot by reading the first few paragraphs, because that's how short stories should be structured.
The following article is pretty good, but outdated for online submissions, which make up the VAST bulk of short story submissions these days. I do NOT need to know if your manuscript is disposable. It's electronic, not paper. What I do with it at the end of the day doesn't have an impact on the rain forests or on my nonexistent mailroom clerk. And, obviously, you don't need to worry about a SASE.
http://www.sfwriter.com/ow09.htm
2. Your title
How important is a title? I can't overstate how VERY important a title is.
There are TWO aspects to your title. The first is format.
This is Jr. High School grammar, folks. Don't make me open your manuscript to find this:
this is the title of my story
On your keyboard there's a key, a pretty big one, that says 'Shift.' Use it. Use it correctly.
Here's a great little summary on capitalizing story titles. Short, sweet, and to the point:
http://www.dummies.com/how-to/content/what-do-you-capitalize-in-titles.html
If that's too much for you, here's a neat little capitalization tool:
http://capitalizemytitle.com/
Correcting that title: This Is the Title of My Story
The other aspect of title is its character. Is it interesting? Have you given more than 20 seconds thought into what it should be? Does it catch my attention without being more creative than the actual story? Does it accurately reflect the nature of the story?
One story we had submitted had a title that made me certain the story was going to be humorous. The story was none of the sort. We published the story, but the author had to change the title. The only reason the story passed muster at all was that it was good enough to overcome that title snafu. Your story would have to be REALLY good to do that.
The following may be the ONLY article on the internet about writing a story title. Fortunately it's pretty good:
http://www.writing-world.com/fiction/titles.shtml
3. Guidelines
Every short story market has submission guidelines. Every short story market has UNIQUE submission guidelines. Every short story market EDITS their submission guidelines from time to time.
If you're submitting with a short story market for the first time, thoroughly read the submission guidelines. Read them, study them, heed them TO THE LETTER. Double check that you didn't miss anything before hitting that Submit button.
If you're submitting to a short story market for the first time in 6 months, REread the submission guidelines Things change, new reasons for new rules arise. New editors take over. New owners mix things up. Just for me, take another look.
4. Your Manuscript
Most of a market's requirements for your manuscript will appear in the guidelines. If you read those guidelines your manuscript is likely to be just fine.
But the truth is many authors don't actually read the guidelines, and if they do they consider themselves 'above the law,' or they think they're being clever by making alterations to their manuscript that will 'catch the editor's attention.' Yeah. They catch my attention, but not in a good way.
You know those WalMartians? Sure, they catch EVERYONE'S attention. But let's be realistic. Are you going to ask THIS on a date? That's probably what she's dressing for, misguided as she is.
When you try to be clever by using ANY font other than Times New Roman or Courier New, or by adding illustrations, or by including an artsy title, etc., you're making me cringe. You're making me stare like a rubbernecker on the freeway. Deer in the headlights. I just stopped taking you seriously, and that WILL have an impact on my reading of your story.
Here's a great article on standard manuscript format. Remember, combine proper format with a thorough reading of the guidelines. Sometimes markets will ask for minor alterations of manuscript format. Again, there are points in this article that are not relevant to online submission, but your manuscript should still 'look' as described in the article:
http://www.sfwa.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/Mssprep.pdf
5. Clarity
A few thoughts on clarity:
First, if your story comes to a scene break, DO NOT denote it by adding extra spaces. Those extra spaces can become lost at the end of a page or can seem like a mistaken extra paragraph space. I don't know. Sometimes, honestly, I can't tell. Make sure I understand where your scene breaks are. It makes you look smart. I like to publish smart authors.
Denote scene breaks like this:
This is my story and I'm going to take a scene break.
#
Now I'm starting a new scene.
See that pound sign? (Shift-3) That's the quickest, easiest, least intrusive way to denote a scene break. If you want you can use an asterisk (Shift-8)*. That's acceptable too. Please do not use anything else. Please include an extra hard return between the scenes and the pound sign, as shown.
Second, make it clear where your story ends.
People are not perfect. I'm not. You're not.
Simply putting THE END at the end of your story makes both of us certain that the entire manuscript downloaded properly and that you ACTUALLY intended to end the story where you did.
For good measure, add a hard return AFTER typing THE END. Some word processing software will do crazy things in conversion. For example, if you are submitting with Submittable and writing using Open Office or Libre Office, then converting those files to .doc files, Submittable's software will chop off the last line of your manuscript. If that last line is a blank space then you'll be fine. If it's THE END, no harm done. If it's the last crucial line upon which the entire story resolves itself, you have a problem.
6. Copy Editing
Please understand that word processing software is imperfect in its ability to identify every spelling or grammar error, and that they are completely clueless on the issue of word usage. So if you type 'form' instead of 'from' the software isn't going to alert you to it.
You MUST eyeball edit--with your own eyes--your story before submitting.
Understand that I'm making the assumption that you are grammatically proficient. You should know when to use its or it's, your or you're, there or their or they're, lose or loose, lightning or lightening. If you've just read through those and are scratching your head in confusion, you'd better look it up. Plenty of online grammar guides out there. (True confession: I'm still so unsure of 'effect' and 'affect' that I generally just avoid using them.)
If you are NOT grammatically proficient, I suggest you pick up a high school grammar guide and get back to basics. Strunk and White's The Elements of Style is a good place to start, and it's free online, here: https://faculty.washington.edu/heagerty/Courses/b572/public/StrunkWhite.pdf
Know how to punctuate and capitalize correctly. Know how to handle dialogue. Learn about run-on sentences.
An opening paragraph with even a single grammar or spelling error will speak volumes to me. Remember the WalMartian?
Don't get the idea that I demand perfection. I don't. (Another true confession: A reader recently pointed out one of those spelling errors that wouldn't have been dinged by any grammar/spell-check software. 'One' instead of 'on.' To my credit, it was NOT in the opening paragraph.)
I'll tolerate an error or three. Needles in the haystack. But if it's fresh grated Parmesan on my Olive Garden salad (you KNOW you let your server keep grating longer than is good for you!), not so great. If it's white cat hair on my black slacks, even worse. No matter how great the story, how good the writing style, I won't be able to see that past the copy mistakes. Because what that says to me is that you didn't give a damn. If that's so, why should I?
As a writer you should be making every effort to make me happy, to not waste my time.
Think and act like a pro. Learn what you must to make it happen. The more you learn the better your writing will become. The better your writing becomes the greater your odds of publication.
Friday, August 7, 2015
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
Ask the Editor: How Do You Become a Slushpile Editor?
Reader Bonnie Fernandes asked: "How do you become a slushpile editor?"
Great question.
You know what they tell you when you go to job search seminars?
They tell you to network.
And finding a job as a slushpile editor is no different. It's really all about WHO you know. Of course WHAT you know certainly helps too.
A good slushreader is more than just a reader. A good slush reader knows the mechanics of writing, inside and out. A good slush reader doesn't have to BE a writer, per se. But he knows HOW to write. He knows how to recognize good writing in the work of others. He knows how to recognize errors in writing mechanics.
These qualifications are crucial, but they're only a gateway to finding a position as a slush reader.
So how, exactly, does one network?
Your first step is to join writing communities. Online writing communities and workshops are a great place to meet people who know people. And some of those people you get to know are bound to have connections of their own, and eventually one of those friends or acquaintances is bound to know someone who happens to work at such and such a magazine who, at some point, is bound to let their network of friends know that their magazine is looking for slush readers.
For example, at Flash Fiction Online, when we are in need of slush readers we first go to our staff to ask for recommendations. They look through their lists if friends and writing acquaintances, send out a few emails, and send me names and email addresses of interested parties. On occasion we've advertised for positions at writing workshops we frequent.
At least that's how it works in the larger publishing community. In other words, the vast number of magazines--online and in print--that are run on a shoestring budget and seldom have money to pay staff. (There are definite benefits to reading slush that compensate for the lack of actual pay.)
If you're looking for a professional, paying job as a slush reader, it's slightly more complicated. Still, it's all about who you know and what you know.
At the larger publishing houses--those few who still have a slushpile--they accept applications and look at resumes. They want to see relevant college degrees and work experience. If you can name-drop a friend in the publishing industry, even better. Networking. It's crucial.
I once spoke to an editor who said her first editing gig was copy editing phone books. Her English degree helped her get that job, which gave her a toe in the door at her next job--reading slush for a small local publishing company. As she worked she gained further experience, more lines on her resume, until she broke into the New York publishing industry--as a slush reader again, but, dang! In New York!! More working, more experience, now she works as an acquisition editor for a small publishing house, gaining more experience, making better money.
But with so few major publishing houses accepting slush anymore, where does one look for slush reading jobs?
Agencies. These days most accepted, published manuscripts are acquired through literary agents, and literary agents need a handful of slush readers to wade through the piles of potential-client manuscripts they receive. And how do you land a job reading slush for a literary agent? Network. Get to know people.
Also, start small. Do some pro bono slush reading for a small press online magazine, for example, to put a line of relevant experience on your resume. Use that to move up to the next level, and so on.
Be persistent, be professional, be able to prove you know your way around the world of writers and writing.
Great question.
You know what they tell you when you go to job search seminars?
They tell you to network.
And finding a job as a slushpile editor is no different. It's really all about WHO you know. Of course WHAT you know certainly helps too.
A good slushreader is more than just a reader. A good slush reader knows the mechanics of writing, inside and out. A good slush reader doesn't have to BE a writer, per se. But he knows HOW to write. He knows how to recognize good writing in the work of others. He knows how to recognize errors in writing mechanics.
These qualifications are crucial, but they're only a gateway to finding a position as a slush reader.
So how, exactly, does one network?
Your first step is to join writing communities. Online writing communities and workshops are a great place to meet people who know people. And some of those people you get to know are bound to have connections of their own, and eventually one of those friends or acquaintances is bound to know someone who happens to work at such and such a magazine who, at some point, is bound to let their network of friends know that their magazine is looking for slush readers.
For example, at Flash Fiction Online, when we are in need of slush readers we first go to our staff to ask for recommendations. They look through their lists if friends and writing acquaintances, send out a few emails, and send me names and email addresses of interested parties. On occasion we've advertised for positions at writing workshops we frequent.
At least that's how it works in the larger publishing community. In other words, the vast number of magazines--online and in print--that are run on a shoestring budget and seldom have money to pay staff. (There are definite benefits to reading slush that compensate for the lack of actual pay.)
If you're looking for a professional, paying job as a slush reader, it's slightly more complicated. Still, it's all about who you know and what you know.
At the larger publishing houses--those few who still have a slushpile--they accept applications and look at resumes. They want to see relevant college degrees and work experience. If you can name-drop a friend in the publishing industry, even better. Networking. It's crucial.
I once spoke to an editor who said her first editing gig was copy editing phone books. Her English degree helped her get that job, which gave her a toe in the door at her next job--reading slush for a small local publishing company. As she worked she gained further experience, more lines on her resume, until she broke into the New York publishing industry--as a slush reader again, but, dang! In New York!! More working, more experience, now she works as an acquisition editor for a small publishing house, gaining more experience, making better money.
But with so few major publishing houses accepting slush anymore, where does one look for slush reading jobs?
Agencies. These days most accepted, published manuscripts are acquired through literary agents, and literary agents need a handful of slush readers to wade through the piles of potential-client manuscripts they receive. And how do you land a job reading slush for a literary agent? Network. Get to know people.
Also, start small. Do some pro bono slush reading for a small press online magazine, for example, to put a line of relevant experience on your resume. Use that to move up to the next level, and so on.
Be persistent, be professional, be able to prove you know your way around the world of writers and writing.
Monday, March 23, 2015
Why I'm Not a Fan of Cat Stories
In our guidelines (https://ffo.submittable.com/submit) we state several hard sells, or stories that we see too much of, don't particularly enjoy, and that you'll have to work extra hard as a writer to overcome the eyerolling reaction of our staff when they appear in our slush pile.
Cat stories are one of these.
I will not gloss over the truth. For me, this is one reason:
Yes, I am a dog person.
I am as prejudiced against cats as cat people are against dogs, and neither of us understand people who would have both, nor people who would have neither.
But to be fair, I'm not a huge fan of dog stories either. In fact, I'm not really a fan of any story in which the point of view character is not a human or an intelligent alien. That includes babies. Babies are hardly intelligent and barely human.
And don't get me started on humans trapped in a dog/cat body. Just don't.
But this post isn't about dogs or babies or aliens. It's about cats.
We see far more cat stories than dog stories. You see a lot more cat hoarders, too. Yeah, yeah. We had a crazy cat lady down the street when I was growing up. Didn't we all? No one ever said anything about the crazy dog lady.
What does that say about cat people? That dog people don't love their furry companions as much as cat people? That cat people are crazier about their beloved pets than dog people? Or that cat people are just crazy?
But let's put all that prejudice aside and talk facts.
In 2012, only 30% of American households owned cats. (36.5% owned dogs, despite the fact that dogs were costlier to keep healthy--more than $100 greater annual expenditure in veterinary costs. But that's just me gloating. Dog person, remember?) What that tells me is that 70% of the population doesn't really care about cat stories because they either don't care for cats or because, well, they're human.
That's the crux of it. Cats are not human. Humans (especially humans who don't care for cats) have a difficult time empathizing with a cat. Lack of empathy translates directly to lack of interest in the fiction world.
In very practical terms, despite my own dislike of cats and cat stories, it's bad business to publish a story that only 30% of my readership is likely to give a cat's behind about. And at only 36.5%, that's the reason I'm not likely to be attracted to a dog story either.
Especially stories about little dogs. But that's another prejudice for another day.
Cat stories are one of these.
I will not gloss over the truth. For me, this is one reason:
Yes, I am a dog person.
I am as prejudiced against cats as cat people are against dogs, and neither of us understand people who would have both, nor people who would have neither.
But to be fair, I'm not a huge fan of dog stories either. In fact, I'm not really a fan of any story in which the point of view character is not a human or an intelligent alien. That includes babies. Babies are hardly intelligent and barely human.
And don't get me started on humans trapped in a dog/cat body. Just don't.
But this post isn't about dogs or babies or aliens. It's about cats.
We see far more cat stories than dog stories. You see a lot more cat hoarders, too. Yeah, yeah. We had a crazy cat lady down the street when I was growing up. Didn't we all? No one ever said anything about the crazy dog lady.
What does that say about cat people? That dog people don't love their furry companions as much as cat people? That cat people are crazier about their beloved pets than dog people? Or that cat people are just crazy?
But let's put all that prejudice aside and talk facts.
In 2012, only 30% of American households owned cats. (36.5% owned dogs, despite the fact that dogs were costlier to keep healthy--more than $100 greater annual expenditure in veterinary costs. But that's just me gloating. Dog person, remember?) What that tells me is that 70% of the population doesn't really care about cat stories because they either don't care for cats or because, well, they're human.
That's the crux of it. Cats are not human. Humans (especially humans who don't care for cats) have a difficult time empathizing with a cat. Lack of empathy translates directly to lack of interest in the fiction world.
In very practical terms, despite my own dislike of cats and cat stories, it's bad business to publish a story that only 30% of my readership is likely to give a cat's behind about. And at only 36.5%, that's the reason I'm not likely to be attracted to a dog story either.
Especially stories about little dogs. But that's another prejudice for another day.
Monday, February 17, 2014
Ask an Editor: Published or Not?
While this question didn't come from a blog reader, it is a question I receive frequently from submitters:
"If I posted my story on my blog, do you consider that previously published?"
Short answer: Yes.
Long answer: Yes, we do. As do almost all other markets.
Why?
A magazine, you see, is in the business of procuring and keeping readers. It's how we function, it's what we're for, it's how some of us make money.
So when I'm buying your story to put onto my pages, I'm not just paying you for a story for the hell of it. I'm making an investment in you, in the idea that your story is going to bring potential new readers to my magazine.
But if everyone you know--your family, friends, acquaintances, critique group members--have already read your story on your blog they're much less likely to read your story on my site, which means they're much less likely to potentially purchase a copy or a subscription, much less likely to click on ads on my site and buy products from our sponsors, which then doesn't put money in our account with which we could otherwise afford to buy more stories from writers like you.
"If I posted my story on my blog, do you consider that previously published?"
Short answer: Yes.
Long answer: Yes, we do. As do almost all other markets.
Why?
A magazine, you see, is in the business of procuring and keeping readers. It's how we function, it's what we're for, it's how some of us make money.
So when I'm buying your story to put onto my pages, I'm not just paying you for a story for the hell of it. I'm making an investment in you, in the idea that your story is going to bring potential new readers to my magazine.
But if everyone you know--your family, friends, acquaintances, critique group members--have already read your story on your blog they're much less likely to read your story on my site, which means they're much less likely to potentially purchase a copy or a subscription, much less likely to click on ads on my site and buy products from our sponsors, which then doesn't put money in our account with which we could otherwise afford to buy more stories from writers like you.
Story Titles
Imagine yourself at Barnes & Noble. How do you browse for books?
Cover art? Most books aren't shelved with the cover facing you.
Blurb? No books are shelved so you can easily browse the back-cover or inside-cover blurb.
What faces you first is the title.
And that's what I see first, too.
Am I going to be excited about reading a story titled 'Boring'?
To tell you the truth, I might be just a little intrigued by that title. It might lead me to wonder--nay, hope--that the story will be anything but boring.
So let's take a look at some of my favorite titles from the pages of Flash Fiction Online and how they might have been less appealing:
vs.
"Driving My Post Partum Depressed Wife to the Mountains"
The first title, hopefully you recognize, is the real one. But it's not what the story is about. The second title tells me what the story is about, but it doesn't make me want to read the story.
How about:
vs.
"Granny and Her Microwave"
Or:
vs.
"I Was a Robot Bride"
So why don't we take a look at what makes these titles successful, eye-catching, editor-appealing.
Sparks: What kind of sparks am I talking about? The kind of sparks that get my imagination working. That first title, "James Brown Is Alive and Doing Laundry in South Lake Tahoe," even though it has very little to do with what the story is actually about, puts an immediate mental image into my head. I'm imagining an aging James Brown, his thick hair still piled high in that ridiculous pompadour, his shirt unbottoned to his enormous old-man belly, his chains getting tangled in his exposed, graying chest hair, crossing the street with his wheeled laundry basket in tow. Maybe he has a cigarette dangling from his lip. Maybe his boots are unlaced as he shuffles aimlessly over the blacktop. A cross between the classic rocker we all recognize from "I Feel Good" and the proto-bag-lady who seems to grace every laundromat in the universe.
But the author does something else important. As she opens the story she places me immediately in a place from which I might just catch a glimpse of someone who looks like it just might be James Brown heading for the laundromat--a car driven by an over-tired new father. She also ties that title neatly into the story. You'll have to read the story to see how. But that's important. I shouldn't get to the end of your story and wonder what in the heck the title had to do with anything.
Not Your Run of the Mill: Irma Splinkbottom. Holy cow, what a name. When I first read this title I prayed fervently that the story would be as good as the title. It was. We bought it and published it in 2009. What this tells you is a lot of things.
First, a great title will catch any editor's attention. A boring title won't. Choose carefully. Put as much thought into that title as you do to your opening paragraph.
Second, a great title alone won't sell your story. That fervent prayer wasn't for nothing. I've read hundreds of stories with imagination-catching titles in which the story just didn't cut the mustard. So many, in fact, that the prayer was needed. And this time it worked.
Third, title can say a lot about what might be expected from your story. This title gave me to expect humor, which is what Irma delivered. Be careful that you don't become so concerned with writing an imaginative title that you lose sight of the fact that it's saying something about your story. Make sure that what it's saying matches what the story says. I don't want a title that takes me to the Bahamas only to find the story takes me to Antarctica.
Fourth, putting something peculiar in the title, like Irma Splinkbottom or the irony of an old lady name along with 'cold fusion', can be definitely imaginatively engaging. Be careful how you use unusual, though. Unusual can mean just about anything. Make sure your title aims for the right kind of unusual. For instance, I recently had a story titled "Past Perfect/Future Tense" in my slush pile. While to grammarians it's merely grammatical terms, an editor/writer like me will look at that and say, 'Hmm. This story is probably about more than grammar." Which then gets me thinking about that title. Past Perfect. Future Tense. The past is perfect. The future is tense. I now feel as if I'm looking through a window into the soul of this story and hoping for great things done with strong, empathetic characters.
Language Is Beautiful: It really is. We often hear people say how difficult the English language is to learn--all the exceptions to the rules, all the exceptions to the exceptions. It's a mongrel of a language, that's for sure. But that mongrel has given the world a language with an enormous diversity of words--more diverse than any other Earth language--which, according to one source, is approaching a vocabulary of one million words and which is constantly adopting words from every potential source.
No other language offers the writer a larger pool of words from which to draw in order to express himself with such great accuracy or fluency or grace. There is no excuse for any writer to thunk down a string of graceless words and call it a title, when so much meaning and poetry can be had with even a single well-chosen word.
Take a look at "Gathering Rosebuds of Rust." All those lovely Rs--alliteration. The exact same thing could be told using entirely different words, but it certainly wouldn't have the same flavor. For example: "Picking Rusty Metal Flowers" or "Putting Rusted Roses in My Basket."
As an exercise, write a title for a story you're working on or have recently completed. Have your critique group or members of your writer's forum read the title and answer the following questions:
Do you like the title? Why?
What do you think this story is about?
What kind or genre of story do you expect it to be?
What emotional vibe do you expect the story to have?
If the answers you receive don't jive at all with the story you've written you probably want to rethink that title.
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Ask an Editor: Cover Letter Bio?
Margie asked: "Do I need to include a brief bio in my cover letter when submitting a story?"'
The simple answer is no, you do not.
Is it helpful? Potentially, but not always.
I've seen all kinds of bios in cover letters. From a single sentence to a full page to nothing at all.
Speaking as a working editor, I'd say I tend toward nothing at all over a full page for a bio. Margie, being an astute writer, asked if she should include a 'brief' bio. Brevity is the key word. If you do decide to include one, keep it brief. No more than three or four sentences.
But are you one of those writers who should include one at all?
Here are some questions to help you decide:
1. Do I have any writing-related credits to include in my cover letter? Writing credits would be recent and/or professionally paid publications. You might also include recent publication in lesser markets if they're well-respected. Also, if you have participated in professional writing workshops, have a degree in English or creative writing, other writing-related education or activities, you could include those.
Well, OK, just one question. That's really all there is to it.
Don't include your life story, your sleeping habits, your favorite recreational activities, every place you've ever lived or exotic foreign clime you've visited. Don't include the title of all 32 stories you've published in obscure publications over the course of 68 years. I exaggerate, but you're smart enough to realize that.
But what if you don't have any writing-related credits? Just a simple:
Dear Editor,
I respectfully submit my story "Title Here" for your consideration.
Sincerely,
Your Name
Because I'm going to let you in on a little secret:
Editors don't always even read cover letters. It's just one more thing to do in a long string of things that need to be done to get a story from the slushpile to the printed page.
At Flash Fiction Online, your story gets read first, because what's in your cover letter doesn't really matter. What matters is the story. After we've read, if we're interested, we'll read the cover letter to learn more about you.
The simple answer is no, you do not.
Is it helpful? Potentially, but not always.
I've seen all kinds of bios in cover letters. From a single sentence to a full page to nothing at all.
Speaking as a working editor, I'd say I tend toward nothing at all over a full page for a bio. Margie, being an astute writer, asked if she should include a 'brief' bio. Brevity is the key word. If you do decide to include one, keep it brief. No more than three or four sentences.
But are you one of those writers who should include one at all?
Here are some questions to help you decide:
1. Do I have any writing-related credits to include in my cover letter? Writing credits would be recent and/or professionally paid publications. You might also include recent publication in lesser markets if they're well-respected. Also, if you have participated in professional writing workshops, have a degree in English or creative writing, other writing-related education or activities, you could include those.
Well, OK, just one question. That's really all there is to it.
Don't include your life story, your sleeping habits, your favorite recreational activities, every place you've ever lived or exotic foreign clime you've visited. Don't include the title of all 32 stories you've published in obscure publications over the course of 68 years. I exaggerate, but you're smart enough to realize that.
But what if you don't have any writing-related credits? Just a simple:
Dear Editor,
I respectfully submit my story "Title Here" for your consideration.
Sincerely,
Your Name
Because I'm going to let you in on a little secret:
Editors don't always even read cover letters. It's just one more thing to do in a long string of things that need to be done to get a story from the slushpile to the printed page.
At Flash Fiction Online, your story gets read first, because what's in your cover letter doesn't really matter. What matters is the story. After we've read, if we're interested, we'll read the cover letter to learn more about you.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
What Kind of Writer?
I'm currently working my way through Dave Farland's new edition of Million Dollar Outlines.
He suggests, and rightly so, that there are two main types of writers: the discovery writer and the outliner.
Of course it's not quite that cut and dried.
Essentially, there are a hundred kinds of writers, but they all fall on a scale somewhere between discovery and outliner.
So what do I mean by those terms?
A pure discovery writer never thinks ahead about what he's going to write. He sits down, begins writing, and discovers where his writing will take him. A VERY pure discovery writer won't even have a preconceived story idea in mind when he begins writing.
A pure outline writer won't write a word unless he has a detailed outline of every detail of the story, from beginning to end, and will NOT deviate from that outline in any way.
But there really are very few pure discovery or pure outline writers. We mainly fall somewhere in between.
Even a heavy discovery writer will begin writing with a general story in mind, or maybe the end of a story in mind, or maybe a character who needs a story in mind.
A heavy outline writer (at least a smart one) will allow himself to let the story take him in a new direction, taking some time to readjust his outline to reflect that.
Each type of writer has his own challenges. For example, a discovery writer may end up with a mess of disorganization at the end of months of writing that will need so much editing that it hardly seems worth the effort; while an outline writer may be so wrapped up in the outlining that by the time it comes to writing the story he's bored with it, never getting beyond the outline in the process.
Personally, I can't imagine sitting down to write with no preconceived notions of what I'm going to write, though I'll suggest that doing such a thing is an excellent exercise for getting over writer's block or for getting the creative juices flowing at the beginning of a writing session.
But I do lack a certain amount of skill in the area of outlining.
That's why I'm reading Dave's book. I'll let you know how it turns out.
He suggests, and rightly so, that there are two main types of writers: the discovery writer and the outliner.
Of course it's not quite that cut and dried.
Essentially, there are a hundred kinds of writers, but they all fall on a scale somewhere between discovery and outliner.
So what do I mean by those terms?
A pure discovery writer never thinks ahead about what he's going to write. He sits down, begins writing, and discovers where his writing will take him. A VERY pure discovery writer won't even have a preconceived story idea in mind when he begins writing.
A pure outline writer won't write a word unless he has a detailed outline of every detail of the story, from beginning to end, and will NOT deviate from that outline in any way.
But there really are very few pure discovery or pure outline writers. We mainly fall somewhere in between.
Even a heavy discovery writer will begin writing with a general story in mind, or maybe the end of a story in mind, or maybe a character who needs a story in mind.
A heavy outline writer (at least a smart one) will allow himself to let the story take him in a new direction, taking some time to readjust his outline to reflect that.
Each type of writer has his own challenges. For example, a discovery writer may end up with a mess of disorganization at the end of months of writing that will need so much editing that it hardly seems worth the effort; while an outline writer may be so wrapped up in the outlining that by the time it comes to writing the story he's bored with it, never getting beyond the outline in the process.
Personally, I can't imagine sitting down to write with no preconceived notions of what I'm going to write, though I'll suggest that doing such a thing is an excellent exercise for getting over writer's block or for getting the creative juices flowing at the beginning of a writing session.
But I do lack a certain amount of skill in the area of outlining.
That's why I'm reading Dave's book. I'll let you know how it turns out.
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