Category Archives: publishing

Awards and Such Things

So a thing happened last week. My story, Child of the Emptyness (Grimdark Magazine #17), made the shortlist for the Aurealis Awards in the ‘Best Fantasy Short Story’ category. To say I’m stunned is an understatement. To say I’m chuffed to bits – also understatement.

Apart from the awesomeness that is being shortlisted, what makes this doubly, or even triply special is the amount of friends I find myself amongst – two of which are ‘my people’ (yes, it’s a thing, we all have them, I wrote about it). It’s a bit of a convoluted web this one, as I find myself sharing the fantasy story nod with one of my closest of people, Alan Baxter, who also got a nod in the ‘Best Fantasy Novel’ category, which also contains another of my closest of people (and bestie), Devin Madson.

Oh, but it doesn’t stop there! Also please find drinking buddy and he of the best-laugh-ever, J Ashley Smith in the Fantasy Short category. Add in the most wonderful Sam Hawke in the Fantasy Novel shortlist and… how the hell are you supposed to choose?  Huh? Huh?

And there are so many more: Joanne Anderton, Kaaron Warren, Rivqa Rafael, Maria Lewis, Shauna O’Meara, Kylie Chan… I couldn’t be more pleased for these wonderful people and amazing authors. The breadth of talent in this list is incredible to see – Aussie fiction is a deep, rich pool of unique voices that deserve to be read.

Make Good Art

But I want to make a shout-out to those who didn’t make the list. That’s right, you there, who sits down and makes word-babies every day (or every week, or whenever you can), you’re a goddamn star. To those who have the writer-imposteritis shouting in the ear yet still create worlds that are as vivid as the one in which we live – keep creating! To those who hope their tales will get the nod for which they so wish, then wonder what they need to do when their name doesn’t appear – I see you, I hear you, I feel you… I am you. We’ve all been there. Don’t give up. Because that character that’s whispering in your ear, urging you to tell their story may just be the tale those judges need. And if not? Well, you’ve created. You’ve put yourself out in the world, given joy to those who read it, and you should be damn well proud.

You got this.

Festivus Book Pimping – Faerie Apocalypse by Jason Franks

Hark, the Faerie Apocalypse sings! Well, likely more screaming than singing, but work with me here. Breaking through the Pimpus of Festivus veil is Aussie author Jason Franks’ most weirdly wonderful Faerie Apocalypse (IFWG Australia). As you can probably tell by the title, this is some darker reading but Franks has fleshed out this oddly-magical world with characters that verily leap off the page, and the storytelling is masterfully done.

We follow the story of four unnamed protagonists, each with their own story of venturing into the Faerie world. I wasn’t sure whether not knowing the names of the protags would work, but the writing is so well done that the names don’t matter – the stories, the journeys (gods how I hate that word) do.

It’s clever storytelling with sardonic Australian wit that deconstructs everything you ever thought about fairy tales (or faerie tales – absolute bonus for that spelling, too). Faerie Apocalypse draws you in with its fable-esque narrative then continues to hammer any thoughts of hope from you – this isn’t a bad thing. It’s sharp, it’s twisted, and the threads between all four protags and those special faerie world characters are skilfully woven.

And as killer lines are shaping up to be a thing in the Festivus Book Pimping, how’s this: The magus racked the uzi.

Back cover blurb incoming…

Over the centuries the Faerie Realms have drifted away from the mortal world. But for some, the Doors will open. For some, there is a Way to travel there, if they want it badly enough.

If they dream it hard enough.

In this era, only lovers, poets, and madmen can access the Realms of the Land–and for good reason.

A succession of mortals travel to Faerie: a veteran seeking beauty; a magus seeking power; an urchin seeking his wayward father; an engineer seeking meaning. These mortals bring the horrors of our age to the Land, and the Folk who live there respond in kind.

Franks has taken a risky approach to the narrative, and it pays off. There will be those, however, who probably won’t quite take to the quirks, to the brutality, to the mirror Franks places on humankind… the worst of humankind, no matter their intentions. But it’s these types of books that really stand out for me, that hit at the heart of humanity and aren’t afraid to show it in all its ugliness, in all its beauty – you can’t have one without the other.

Faerie Apocalypse was one of my favourite reads this year, you should check it out.

Recommended for readers who like dark fantasy, horror, re/deconstructed faerie tales, boundary-pushing narrative, all-round kick-arse storytelling.

Not suited for those who struggle with violence, horror, and all things dark and nasty. (Huzzah!… Ahem.)

Faerie Apocalypse was one of my favourite reads this year, you should check it out.

Recommended for readers who like dark fantasy, horror, re/deconstructed faerie tales, boundary-pushing narrative, all-round kick-arse storytelling.

Festivus Book Pimping — We Ride the Storm by Devin Madson

Jingle Bells, mofos! It’s Festivus Booking Pimping time again, and up on today’s humble stone is Devin Madson’s epically awesome We Ride the Storm, the first in her Reborn Empire tetralogy. And it’s a hell of a story – one of the best pieces of fiction I’ve read. Like ever.

In my last Pimpus, I spoke of killer opening lines, and Madson more than delivers with hers: It is harder to sever a head than people think.

That should give you some idea of the tone of the book, but you’d be mistaken in thinking the act of beheading is barbarous, cruel in its intent. Far from it. And that’s the thing with Madson’s work, it’s beautiful in its storytelling, the language and imagery a joy to read, and her characters burrow deep beneath your skin and take root.

We Ride the Storm is told through the eyes of three point-of-view characters, each told in first-person narrative. A symbol at the beginning of each chapter marks through whose eyes you’ll be viewing the world for a time, but the voices are distinct, individual, unique. And you will have favourites (yup, in the plural).

Here’s the back-cover blurb:

War built the Kisian Empire and war will tear it down. And as an empire falls, three warriors rise.

Caught in a foreign war, Captain Rah e’Torin and his exiled warriors will have to fight or die. Their honour code is all they have left until orders from within stress them to breaking point, and the very bonds that hold them together will be ripped apart.

Cassandra wants the voice in her head to go away. Willing to do anything for peace, the ageing whore takes an assassination contract that promises answers, only the true price may be everyone and everything she knows.

A prisoner in her own castle, Princess Miko doesn’t dream of freedom but of the power to fight for her empire. As the daughter of a traitor the path to redemption could as easily tear it, and her family, asunder.

As an empire dies they will have to ride the storm or drown in its blood.

We Ride the Storm has also just become a finalist in the ‘Self-Publishing Fantasy Blog Off’ (SPFBO), gaining a top ten spot out a whopping three hundred entries. That’s the quite the feat, and a testament to the brilliance of this book.

Yes, this book is self-published, and for those who think SP-books are of lesser quality, you couldn’t be more wrong. We Ride the Storm is self-publishing done right. And that divine cover is original artwork by the uber-talented John Anthony Di Giovanni, with layout and cover design by Shawn T King (the two officially known as the ‘dream team’). As you can probably tell, the setting for the book is non-Euro centric, and the descriptions of the lands of Kisia and Chiltae are superb. And there are horses, lots of horses.

The magic is low-level, and there are hints at a greater magic that underlies those such as Cassandra and secondary character, Leo. But as the first in the Reborn Empire, the intrigue of what’s at play carries damn well throughout the story.

I cannot recommend this book enough (GO BUY IT! NOW!), and for those waiting on the next instalment in the series, We Lie With Death is on schedule for a March 2019 release.

Recommended for (everyone) those who love dark fantasy, political machinations, grimdark, epic fantasy, clash of cultures, and just damn fine writing.

Not recommended for those who have an aversion to violence – war is not filled with rainbows and unicorns… although unicorns do come with their own weapon…

The Write People

Let’s talk about people. Not random strangers or the fabulous old guy I saw at the bus stop today shouting at passing cars, but those writerly people other writerly people can’t do without… or shouldn’t do without. (This is going somewhere, I swear.)

All right, so we all know writing is a solitary endeavour. I’m talking about the actual act of it – sitting in front of the pc, the laptop, or putting pen to paper old-school. But it shouldn’t be a lonely one. There’s a misguided “romantic” notion of writers holing themselves up in a room, coffee cups balanced precariously as you tap away like a crazy person, the outside world and living people some figment of your imagination because you live wholly within the created and among your characters. And while the coffee cups and crazy person might have a ring of truth, writers need that connection to other writers.

My partner, bless his sarcastically-gifted soul, refers to them as ‘your people’, and he knows when I need to reconnect (for the sanity of us all) … although it’s usually preceded by “day nine of you in your pyjamas”.

This weekend I get to hang out with one of my favourite ‘your people’ – Devin Madson. She makes the trip up to Sydney every year for ComicCon where we can talk all things books, stories, wrangle ideas, talk work, and just shoot the shit. It’s also where we get to catch up with our other writerly friends and revel in the successes of this year and where we think our imaginations will take us next.

There’s a solidarity among writers – no one knows the highs and lows of writing and publishing, the “I’m not good enough”s or the sometimes crippling writer-imposteritis; they’ll empathise, sympathise, and let you know you’re not alone in this gig.

a-mindful-installationA Mindful Installation by Jennie Lynn Paske

But Devin is more than just ‘my people’. You may have seen my announcement of a short story sale to Grimdark Magazine. I’m super chuffed about the sale, not just because it’s a pro-sale, and not just because the story was good enough to be accepted but that the story was actually written. I’m time poor. I run a successful editing business, and work will always take precedence – bills to pay, food to eat, you know the drill –  which means when something has to give, it’s usually writing and sleep (and fuck those people who say “if you want to write, you’ll find the time”, you can shove your self-righteous, guilt-tripping bullshit up your arse… but that’s a post for another day).

Where was I? Ah, yes, Devin. She knows how time poor I am, but she also knows the less I write the more antsy I become.  So with gentle nudges and on-point questioning, she pushed me to write the story that had been gnawing at me, that I thought would be a good fit for GdM. When that first draft was done, she sliced into it like a writing partner should – cutting away the unnecessary and drawing out the good. And so ‘Child of the Emptyness’ was born, and without her it would still be gnawing at my grey matter and making me feel like a failed writer. I also get to share the Grimdark Magazine ToC with her and her awesome story, ‘A Touch of Malice’ – it’s a hell of a win-win.

I’ve written posts about the ‘village’ needed to raise a book, a story but all writers need ‘their people’. You may think you don’t have them, but you do. They’re the ones who will kick you up the bum when they know it’s a kick up the bum you need; they will ask if you are writing with genuine interest and without pressure; they volunteer to critique your work because they want to read your stories, they want you to succeed. This doesn’t have to be an every-day thing, likely it isn’t. But it’s there, and that’s enough to feed the soul.

So a shout-out to my closest of people: Devin Madson (who makes me a better writer, and makes me want to be a better writer); Kirsten Cross (killer storyteller, maker of shenanigans, and my sister from another mother); Alan Baxter (you know why, mister – it’s all in the ‘at least…’ 😊); James A Moore (the kindest of ‘kind sir’s); and Matthew Summers, who never fails to keep me on track.

So find your people, revel in your people, and be the ‘my people’ for others. Like I said, the act of writing is a solitary endeavour, it shouldn’t be a lonely one.

Beta Readers? You betchya!

So we’ve talked about editors and how to find them, now let’s chat about the unsung heroes and heroines of the publishing process: BETA READERS.

You’re damn right I put that in caps ‒ they deserve all the accolades they get.

For those unfamiliar with the term, beta readers are those who provide feedback on unpublished work before it goes to an editor. They are an essential cog in the machine that is publishing. Beta readers provide an objective overview from a reader’s perspective while giving insight into character(s) arc, plot, world-building, narrative style, and any inconsistencies.

So when should you engage betas?

You’ve finished the eleventy-first draft of your story, you’re probably sick of the sight of it, and you’re at that point where it needs another set of eyes (or three) to see how it’s holding up. Enter your beta readers. Now it’s imperative to point out that beta readers are not editors. You may be lucky enough that one of your betas is an editor, and may pick up spelling and grammar issues, but that’s not their role and it would be pretty uncool to ask them to do so while also providing story feedback.

There are a couple of ways to approach beta reading. You can make a list of things you’d like your betas to look for: eg. character agency and development, any plot holes, narrative style, and even something as simple as: does it make sense. Super-organised writers sometimes provide their beta readers with a checklist or a framework from which to work. Others just let their beta readers have at it, where they can provide feedback via electronic notes on the document, or just provide an overview at chapters’ end or at the completion of the tale.

The thing here is to be clear about what it is you’re looking for from your beta readers, and can they do so within a time-frame. Yes, a time-frame is necessary, especially if you’re working to a deadline. Just be realistic.

 

superhero_t_shirt_by_bangbangtshirts.jpg

Art by BangBang Tshirts

 

So where do you find these mythical creatures?

I’m hoping you have a community you can tap into. This is a big ask of someone, and generally it’s an unpaid project. Reciprocity is your friend here – if you ask someone to beta read for you, don’t be a twat and decline if they ask it of you.

There are groups on Goodreads that offer beta reading, but like with anyone you engage to assist with your book, be discerning in your choices. Hit up your social media sites, ask for recommendations. There are also paid sites that have beta readers; again, be discerning.

You’ll have noticed that I’m using the plural here, because you’re going to need more than one beta reader. I’d suggest at least three, but no more than four. Having too many eyes go over your story and the waters may start to get muddy.

When it comes to choice, try to find those who read in your genre (or alongside it), and even one who doesn’t – mainstream readers will give you insight into readability across the spectrum. Don’t ask a relative unless you’re sure they’re going to give you honest feedback, not just what you want to hear.

And that leads into the next part of the beta reader process: YOU.

If you ask for honest feedback (which is a given, right? Right?) then don’t get all precious, don’t take it personally, and for the love of all things holy and unholy, don’t get angry at them or their feedback. They’ve given freely of their time, provided honest insight in a bid to help you with your book. Be professional. Should you not agree with some of the feedback, you don’t have to take it on. Although should more than one of your beta readers pick up the same thing, then you’ve got an issue that needs to be addressed.

Again: don’t be precious.

In the end, it will be your decision what to take on, and what to let go. But you’re cultivating relationships here, be professional. And be thankful. Beta readers are helping you. Appreciate and respect that.

So we’ll end on some bullet points:

  • Find at least three beta readers – some that read in your genre and, if you can, one that doesn’t. Tap your community (writer community, social media et al.) for beta readers or suggestions; check Goodreads, or websites that offer the service.
  • Be discerning in your choices, clear in your decisions.
  • Ask for honest feedback and mean it – don’t be precious.
  • Provide guidelines for what you’re looking for with the beta read, and ask if it can be met within a realistic time-frame.
  • Reciprocity is your friend – if someone you’ve approached is a writer, offer to beta read for them (and mean it).
  • Be professional. You may not agree with/like the feedback you receive, but this isn’t about you, it’s about getting the best out of your story. Leave your ego behind.
  • You don’t need to take on every point your beta reader makes; the decision to move forward with alterations or not, rests with you.
  • If more than one of your beta readers points out the same issue – it’s an issue.
  • Don’t be precious (yes, it needs reiteration).

 

Remember, beta readers are the heroines and heroes of your publishing journey, be respectful to and thankful for them – they’ve earned it.

Finding the right editor, and when to run like hell

This post is brought to you by a Twitter thread I came across yesterday about the importance of editors. I recently wrote a post on just such a thing. If you’re disinclined to read that, I’ll break it down quickly: YOU NEED AN EDITOR.

Right then. Within this Twitter thread was information that needs to be addressed, so I’m chucking on my ranty-pants (they’re fabulous, by the way), and I’m going to give you some insights into what to look for in a good editor, and how to help find the right editor for you. Yes, not all editors will be the right fit. (I had a whole thing about editors being like pants, but it just got… weird.)

Aaaanywho, what had me don my ranty-pants was a writer explaining they’d been quoted $10,000 for an edit. I’ll just let that sink in. Ten grand. For an edit. Of one book. Oh, hell no. HELL NO. I don’t know who the so-called “editor” was who thought this was a reasonable quote. If I did, I would call them out on their bullshit. Because bullshit it is. I can’t even fathom an instance where quoting or even charging someone this amount is even within the realm of possibility. That, folks, is a scam. Run far. Run fast.

On the flipside, if you’re quoted say, $200 for a full edit of a novel – run far, run fast. No editor worth their salt would charge this little for a full edit. There’s a lot of skill that goes into editing, and most editors study to gain qualifications, to understand the nuances of English and its building blocks that go into great storytelling. Their qualifications and experience are worth more than two hundred bucks.

imagination

So, let’s break down the two types of editing (I’m not including manuscript assessments as that’s a whole different ball game). Deciding which is best for you depends on where you are with your book.

Developmental (substantive/structural) editing: This is detailed editing for structure, plot and sub-plots, story arc, characterisation, character arcs, and chapter arrangement. It’s your ‘big picture’ side of editing that looks deeply into motivations and conflict, agency and forward movement of both story and character(s). Story elements are broken down to ensure there is cohesion and clarity, as well as looking at pacing, premise, and world-building.

Copy (line) editing: This concentrates on style, tempo, language, spelling, punctuation, and grammar. Copy editing goes through line-by-line to ensure syntax is on point, passive vs active voice, run-on sentences, and dangling participles et al. It checks the mechanics of the writing to ensure it’s on point. (Note: copy editing is not proofreading.)

Now, depending upon where you are with your story, it’s a matter of deciding which type of editing is best for you at this stage of your draft. You can ask for a combined structural/copy edit, but be aware that this would cost more as you’re asking for two separate types of editing to be applied – it’s a bigger job, therefore a higher charge.

Once you’ve decided which type of editing you’re after, how do you find an editor? A good editor. Nothing beats word of mouth. Those writers who’ve worked with good editors will happily sing their praises – ask around. However, this doesn’t mean their editor will be the right fit for you. And it is about fit. The author/editor relationship can be magic when you find the right person. It should be. It’s a meeting of minds to work toward a common goal – making your story the best it can be.

Your other option is to put out a call on social media for editors, but understand you’re probably going to be slammed with offers. And not everyone who says they’re an editor should be calling themselves such. I’ve heard horror stories of “editors” putting errors into work. It drives me to become Sweary McSwearface, as it gives those of us who love what we do, a bad name. Fuck those guys.

Here’s a checklist of things to do/ask when you want to engage an editor:

  • Seek out at least five editors to find the right one for you. Can’t find them in that first five? Contact another five then another five until you find the editor you click with. You’ll know. Trust me.
  • Try to find editors experienced in your genre. They’ll have a better feel for not only the market, but for what works (and what doesn’t) in the story you’re telling.
  • Ask for their qualifications, what formal training they’ve had and where they studied. Don’t be afraid to ask these questions; this is your baby they’re working on, and your money you’re parting with. Note: some fantastic editors don’t have formal qualifications, but their industry experience is beyond reproach, so don’t rule out every editor who isn’t formally qualified, just be discerning.
  • Those who edit for a living will have a website. Check the projects they’ve worked on, then mosey on over to Amazon and hit that ‘look inside’ option and see what you think. Do your research. It will pay off.
  • Ask for a sample edit. This allows you to see if the editor knows what they’re doing, if you like the way they edit, and if their editing style would work for you.
  • Cost is the main reason some writers choose not to engage an editor, and I get it, I do. But a lot of editors are quite happy to discuss and work with you on a payment plan. You won’t know if you don’t ask.

The above points are going to help you weed out the charlatans from the true, but trust your gut. If something doesn’t feel or seem quite right, then move on. There are plenty of good editors out there, you’ll find them.

As mentioned at the beginning of this post, charging ten grand for an edit is egregious. It makes me want to find that person and slap them upside the head… a lot. Charging too little for an edit… well, you get what you pay for.

So what should you expect to pay? Well, it depends on the type of edit you want, the word count (or page count, editors price either way), and the amount of work involved. If we’re basing this on a novel of approximately 100,000 words with no excessive work involved, you should be looking at anywhere in the vicinity of $800-$1500. And even low-balling at $800 is a stretch. That’s a lot of money, yes, but it’s an investment in not only your story, but you as a writer.

Editing should be a teaching experience, and I like to use it as such. If I can explain to you why active voice works better in a high-action and/or high-tension scene, you’ll employ that in your next story. If I explain that shorter sentences convey tension better than longer, drawn out sentences, you’ll take that into your next tale. If I can show that the bloody mist spattering your protag’s face as their enemy chokes on their last, gasping breath craps all over ‘dying in their own blood’, then I’m doing my job right.

So don’t be afraid to ask questions, don’t be afraid to say ‘thanks, but no thanks’, and don’t be afraid to walk away, because when you find the right editor, you’ll find the magic.

To market, to market

Following on from my previous post about how you should edit your work (aka you’re an idiot if you don’t), I want to talk about markets and how subbing to particular ones may do more harm than any good you think a publication credit of any kind may be (I’m looking at you ‘for exposure’ and ‘token’, you asshats).

As you may have figured out, I have no love of ‘for exposure/token’ markets – it’s predatory, making money off writers by having them buy the anthology they have a story in, and having family and friends do the same. These markets are effectively making money off you ‒ you don’t see a damn cent… or very few cents. Fuck that noise. PAY THE CREATIVE.

There’s no reasoning or excuse for that bullshit. The ‘oh, but we’re just starting out’ crap doesn’t fly. Those who are serious about the publishing industry will ensure writers are paid for the work they do. Don’t have the money to pay writers? Get out of the business until you do.

And ‘token’ markets? $5 for a 5000-word story? If that’s the value you expect me to place on my story and the work and imagination, the craft, I’ve put into it? You can bite me.

Thing is, there are writers who are desperate for publishing credits, not understanding that it’s not about the amount of publications behind your name, but who those publications are. Those who target ‘for exposure’ markets for publishing credits are doing more harm than good for not only their writing but their reputation. Why? Because the ‘for exposure’ bar is pretty damn low. If (and that’s a big if) your story is edited, it won’t be by someone who knows what they’re doing, so there’s no growth to be had, no understanding of how successful storytelling works. It creates a cognitive dissonance that your work is great the way it is when that may not be the case at all.

Now if you sub to paying markets (which all writers should), sure there’s a chance of rejection, but that’s part of the gig. It’s always been part of the gig. Trying to avoid that won’t make you a better writer, it will make you a stagnant one.

exposure 1

When I’m slush reading for anthology subs and your cover letter lists a plethora of markets I haven’t heard of, and Google struggles to find said markets, then those publishing credits mean squat – it reeks of desperation. If another author’s cover letter has one publishing credit listed as Clarkesworld, for instance, I will sit up and take notice. Why? Because that shows me the author values their work, it means they’ve laboured over it, and gone through the process of story rejection that is imperative to improving your craft.

Rejections make you look at your story again, see where you can improve and how. And if feedback is provided, then this is a brilliant step in making your story better for the next market to whom you send your baby.

‘For exposure/token’ markets do nothing to improve your writing or your writerly-reputation. Why? Because the bar is pretty damn low, and the reason for this is to make money off you – that’s it. It has nothing to do with putting out quality – the cover art alone should tell you that. Money won’t be spent on a professional editor either. If (and that’s a big if) your story is edited, it won’t be by someone who knows what they’re doing, so there’s no growth to be had, no understanding of how successful storytelling works.

When it comes to marketing, don’t worry, they’ve got that sorted. It’s you. You and your family and friends. ‘For exposure’ and ‘token’ markets count on you and your circle to make them money. Money you won’t see, and money (if they’re ‘token’) that will far exceed that minimal outlay.

And they’ll do it again and again and again because people who aren’t serious about the craft of writing, about getting better at it, will keep subbing. All they want is credits against their name, not to become better writers.

Look, I can’t make you not sub to these markets, what I’m saying is that you should place value on your writing, value that what you do is worthwhile. If writing is truly what you love, then give it the respect it deserves.

And if rejection scares you, buckle up sunshine and take that plunge, you’ll be a better writer for it.

If not, then… happy swimming at the murky bottom of the pool.

TO EDIT OR NOT TO EDIT? (A STUPID QUESTION ANSWERED.)

To write is human, to edit is divine. ~ Stephen King.

You need to edit your work. Let me say that again, just in case you missed it the first time:

YOU. NEED. TO. EDIT. YOUR. WORK.

It’s not a difficult concept to grasp – even the above words are simple, but it appears a lot of writers believe this is a stage that can be skipped or is entirely unnecessary (I shit you not). They’re wrong. So very wrong. Like, drowning in oceans of wrongness. I recently saw someone proclaim they didn’t need to edit their story before subbing; they’d written it in one sitting and it was good enough to sub without an edit.

No.

Just no.

And fuck off.

There’s a certain level of arrogance and ignorance tied into believing your work, your stories, don’t need another set of eyes to go over it. Forget the fact that you might have misspellings, verb tense issues, punctuation and dialogue anomalies; that your plot isn’t on point, your character is inconsistent, or, hell, that the story just doesn’t make sense. How do you know the tale you’ve visualised has transferred to the page? Do you just not care? Or, are you so sure of your own “perfection” that no other input is necessary? That’s some high-level cognitive dissonance right there.

There are some stories that do just flow from your fingertips onto the page, but that doesn’t mean they don’t need at least a beta reader, someone to give you feedback, to ask questions of plot or dialogue or story direction. Things that will make your story better. Why would an author not want that? Why would you not want to improve not only your story, but your writing?

I’m a professional editor (yes, got the certificates and the industry experience to prove it), and I’m also a writer. Do I edit my own work? Of course I do. Do I send it to others to beta read? Damn straight. Do I have someone else edit it? Hell yes I do. Why? Because I’m too close to the story to see any issues it may have, because I want to know whether it makes sense, because maybe a question or note will make the story stronger, clearer, more kick-arse. Because I want MY BEST WORK out in the world, not just my: ‘fuck it, this’ll do’ work.

Of late, I’ve seen a surge in this ‘fuck it’ submission process, the belief that you just write and your subs will be accepted. Sure, there are places that will accept that “work”, and if ‘for exposure’ markets or ‘contributor copy only’ markets are your thing then… well, okay. You keep doing you. But why not aim higher? Do better?

It comes down to how you value what you do. How you value your readers. Writing is a craft, it needs to be honed, practised, built upon, and you never stop learning. EVER. If you believe you don’t need to edit, that you don’t need beta readers or those rejections that make you look again at your story and better it, then stagnant you will be, stale your stories will become.

edit all the words

Look, I can’t make you engage beta readers, I can’t make you use an editor or hell, even make you edit your own work, but I can guaran-damn-tee you, you won’t hit any of the success you’re wanting. Having a bibliography of pubbed stories in mags or anthologies no one’s heard of doesn’t up your author profile as much as you’d like to think it does. Give me a story published in Nightmare Magazine, or Grimdark Mag, Apex or Clarkesworld over multiple stories published in markets even Google would have trouble finding.

Writers are readers, we know the markets that accept only the highest possible standards, and those are the markets professional writers want to crack – and by professional, I mean those who take the process of writing and all it entails, seriously. Who know there’s more to writing than just words on a page.

It all really comes down to choice:

Be the writer who wants their work to be the best it can be, who wants constructive criticism for the sake of the story, who wants to be better, do better, and to break into those pro-paying markets who have the high standards for which you strive. To have publishers ask you to sub to them because they’ve seen your work and want it; to have readers search for your work because your tales resonated with them, because they love your storytelling.

Or…

Don’t.

Don’t Be A Cock (*trademark pending*)

There’s little doubt you’ve heard of the furore/shitstorm/WTFedness going on over in Romancelandia regarding a certain author and their trademarking of a particular word to the exclusion of all other authors/titles. If you haven’t, head over to Twitter and the #CockyGate saga. Be careful, it’s a rabbit hole – you’ve been warned.

This isn’t how I intended to spend the start of my Monday morning, but I’m caffeinated and well, it’s Monday. So while I will wade into the sea of shit this author (she’ll get no naming rights here) has created, I’m not going to go into the epically stupid thing she’s attempting nor the blatant hypocrisy she trying to foist into her narrative (it’s outstanding), or the ‘How to Commit Career Suicide’ this so very much looks like. But I will address a few things; while this author plies her trade in the romance genre, this affects every author in every genre and sub-genre.

The first thing to get straight is that it’s a trademark she’s attempting, not copyright – two different things. If you’re going to go head-to-head with her and/or weigh in on this debate, please get that piece of information right. I’m not going to go into the legalities of it here, there are greater (and more willing) minds than mine to do that. But use the right term.

This author is using intimidation tactics to have other indie authors with the word ‘cocky’ in their book titles make changes or she will sue. Yep, you read that right. And one of the things she continually spouts is her “graciousness” to allow them to keep their earnings and reviews, so the changes they “must” make aren’t a big deal and won’t cost the author anything.

Yeah, that’s the bullshit I want to talk about. Indie, or self-published authors don’t have the backing (and funds) of those authors traditionally published. It costs money to edit your book, it costs money for cover art, it costs money for cover design/layout, it costs money to advertise. All of these expenses come out of the often very empty pockets of an indie author. Any changes to books currently uploaded to any and all platforms will require funds to have those changes made. It will cost not only money but time, and time lost often equals money lost, potential readers lost, potential sales lost. To threaten another author into doing so is delusional at best, reprehensible at worst.

All writers, myself included, write because to not do so hurts the soul. To have that passion stomped on, threatened, bullied, isn’t going to win you any favours, it isn’t going to win you readers, and it sure as shit isn’t going to win you market-share (or dominance).

Look, publishing is hard, getting your name out and your books sold in today’s market is hard, but you don’t go about it by stepping on other authors, you don’t go about it by trying to bankrupt other authors out of the market. It’s a big fucking table we’re sharing, and there’s room for everyone. And there are plenty of readers to go around.

Think of it as Ægir’s feast – your ale horns will never be empty, and there’s a regenerating boar outside providing limitless bacon for all.

Don’t try and block seats at the table, lest you want the chair pulled out from beneath you.

Oh, and don’t be a cock… unless you’re this ↓ fabulous!

cock

‘Tis the season to be… award-y

It’s that time of year again. Award season. Or the nominating and voting of such. It’s a time for writers to really pimp their wares for reader-voted honours, or to pray to all the gods (or none) that it will be their name on a nice, shiny trophy.

I have a love/uncomfortable relationship with awards and the award-season. I’ve been lucky enough to win two Australian Shadows Awards (short fiction & graphic novel), and that’s a pretty damn fine high, I gotta say. Yet the whole idea of pimping my work makes me all kinds of uncomfortable. Sure, it’s part of the gig ‒ I get that ‒ and I do pimp my work because I’d be a fool not to. Some authors, though, have a gift for it. Me? I will pimp the shit out of friends’ work I love, but when it comes to my own… <insert squirming here>

uncomfortable

What I do love about the award season is discovering new work and new authors. With so many books on the market, not all of which are good, and some that really have no right to be there (I’m looking at you, unedited books with shite covers), award season hones those great reads down for me. As an editor, my personal reading time is precious, so a poorly edited or plot-hole riddled book will make me stabby.

Speaking of segues, the first lot of awards are in – The Best of Fantasy Stabby Awards, as voted by Reddit. Not only does the ‘Stabby’ have a sword as its trophy (like, what else?), but this year an Aussie nabbed one of those swords for himself. Evil is a Matter of Perspective (Adrian Collins, ed.), put out through Grimdark Magazine.

The preliminary ballot for the Horror Writers Association Bram Stoker Awards has also been announced, with some Aussie and Kiwi writers making their mark this year as well. Big up Alan Baxter for The Book Club;  Lee Murray and Dan Rabarts for Hounds of the Underworld; and Aussie blogger Adrian Bookhead up for superior achievement in blogging for Grim Reader Reviews.

But wait, there’s more! The Aussie awards are open for nominations too: Australian Shadows, Aurealis, and Ditmar. Get eligible works in, folks, if you haven’t already.

Look, there’s probably a tonne more that are open, and the social media dance of books and nominations and votes and publicity and ‘read my book’ is inevitably coming, and it can be exhausting. Thing is, if your name isn’t King, Rowling, or Gaiman (for instance), chances are you work another job (or two) to pay bills and do things like eat. So award season is the opportunity to get your name and your work out there to new readers who just may buy your book. It may put you on the radar for future book deals. It could make a writer’s life a bit easier.

Conversely, awards aren’t the value of your work. I’ll say that again: AWARDS AREN’T THE VALUE OF YOUR WORK! I’ve read brilliant pieces that never won an award or made a shortlist. I’ve written stories I thought were pretty damn good that didn’t get a look in. It can be like a punch to the gut, no doubt, but awards don’t define you as a writer. They help, sure, and those trophies sitting on your desk or shelf are suh-weeeet, but once it’s all said and done, you’re still putting ink to paper (or fingers to keyboard).

What it boils down to is: MAKE GOOD ART. That’s all you can do. And if you’re shortlisted for an award, I tip my hat to you (it’s a fabulous hat). And if not? Keep writing, my friend, it’s the act of creating that draws you back to words, not the awards. Besides, there’s always next year.