In case you have ever wondered if it is legal to scatter your friend’s ashes in a national park I have a new story up at http://www.acrossthemargin.com for you – it’s called “Cold Enough to See Our Breath”
Back in a previous life I was a small rural insurance broker and as a matter of course I have many uninteresting stories about that time. However, one of the very few fun things I got to do (besides golf tournaments on the insurer’s dime) was to broker something called “Event Liability Insurance” (including Host Liquor Liability/Commercial General Liability etc. etc.) for events called “Tuskers.”
A Tusker is a “Biker Bash” – a weekend-long outdoor party for motorcycling enthusiasts of a particular stripe (i.e. – A great many ride highly customized Harley-Davidson motorcycles.) The event organizers brought in bands, had a “burnout pit”, a bike show, a wet tee-shirt contest, and other various fun family activities for the attendees. A fee was charged for the weekend and attendees were given a t-shirt as their entry pass – that way you don;t have to cart around a laminated card/ticket stubs or have your hand stamped, all of which have “continuity” problems. Slap on your tee and ride on in. The organizers provided me with a tee-shirt as a gratuity for all of the hard work of brokering the necessary insurance coverage for the weekend, and I’ve put up some pics of my 2002 t-shirt here for your examination.
I am sure my readers are well familiar with Tuskers and have even attended a few but are surprised to know that there is insurance in place. Hey – of course there is. The county, law enforcement, private landowner’s renting or providing space – all of these people want indemnity in case anything goes wrong. So with me – and certain underwriters at Lloyd’s, London (UK), coverage was quoted, bound, and premiums collected and a policy issued.
In addition to my t-shirts (I have never worn them – instead I have preserved them for eternity) I was asked to come on up and judge the wet t-shirt contest. I was flattered but demurred – I now regret that. I was married at the time and thought it an ungentlemanly thing to do but fuck it, If I could have sped up the divorce by a few years judging a wet t-shirt contest at a Tusker I absolutely, unequivocally should have done it. Plus, it would have given me some materiel.
In my insurance career I dealt with all sorts of people and believe it or not, most were good – But there were none better than the Tusker organizers. Premiums were paid in advance in cash, t-shirts gifted, invitations extended, and the events themselves ran like the Olympics only without the graft, delays, and shady judging. In the “motorcycle enthusiasts” community everyone has a nickname so I want to give a shout-out and thank you to Tracks, Moon, Morbid, and Sensitive (Yes – his biker “handle” is “Sensitive” – he was in charge of booking the bands) – you guys were/are the best.
So there – there’s my short summary of Bikers, Tuskers, and Lloyd’s of London – my contribution to what I hope is a hot and lazy summer weekend for all of you.
Stay frosty comrades – and go get yourself some sharp t-shirts.
I was musing with a friend on the nature of writing and submitting at the end of the pond in which I swim and I came up with the following observations:
It’s not “accepted” until it’s actually published,
You learn to appreciate a quick read
Do not respond to rejections
Yes, your submission was rejected unread, and
“Paying markets” might be overrated
It’s Not “Accepted” Until it’s Published.
I have 30+ pieces in print/pending including 20 of what I’ll call “short stories” (I have 14 “poems” – I’m really a prosodist – I tell little stories line-by-line and “poetry” publishers publish them – but we’ll set those aside for a minute.) Within those 20 shorts there are 4 that I’ve had accepted or shortlisted for magazines or anthology projects that died. Of those 4 only two editorial teams have responded to queries or contacted me to say that “We’re dead, best of luck placing it elsewhere.” The others have said nothing, although I note the project developers continue to tweet every day and maintain their social media presence. I have placed those 4 pieces, but had to place them twice, to see them in print once.
Every writer has a story like this and it’s part of the business – it happens.
I have a chapbook proposal out that I’d lump in this same category as almost a done deal and then …. Death of the publisher – But it was not actually accepted/contract offered so it doesn’t count.
You learn to appreciate a quick read:
Quickest Acceptance: Within 1 day.
Quickest Rejection: Within 1 day.
Longest Acceptance: 5 months and change,
Longest Rejection: 2 years/2 weeks.
Note – on this rejection I had queried at about the 6 month point and rec’d no response. I had accordingly marked my spreadsheet “No Response”. When I got the rejection (I had already placed the story elsewhere) I considered responding snarkily but fuck it, running a non-paying lit mag is most likely it’s own special circle of hell, and at least the guy stepped up and sent something out. I doubt it was ever read, just one of those things lost in the shuffle. It happens.
The Gentleman’s (and Lady’s) Response to Rejection:
The # of rejections I have responded to?
0 as in Zero, Nada, Zip, never.
I never respond. Hey, it’s one (or two) more readers than I would have had anyway – I appreciate the time and effort the Ed’s put into their project which is a labor of love and consumes their own writing time, family time, beer money, and offers very little reward in return. At worst it comes in two years and really, I have lost nothing thereby. No sense being snippy.
People will forget your writing soon enough, but they’ll always remember if you were an asshole. Be humble.
It’s a fool’s errand to speculate over rejection. At best it comes speedily and allows me to re-market quickly. I do appreciate the kindly-worded personal rejections but I don’t respond to those either. I note the rejection on a spreadsheet and move on.
Most Rejected: I had one story have 17 rejections before placing
Least Rejected: I have 3 stories and 5 poems that were accepted 1st time out – never rejected.
Remember: Rejection is not the worst thing that will ever happen to you. I’d say having a piece accepted then never running/having to re-market is worse than rejection. Also: Being eaten by a syphilitic bear. Perspective people, perspective.
Submissions Rejected Unread.
Ah, the unpleasant secret of the lit mag business – a lot of masterpieces are rejected not because they are shitty, or “not a good fit”, or for any actual reason that evolved from reading them but because the issues are jam-packed for the foreseeable future and they don’t need any more masterpieces. So they reject unread. It’s very difficult to get a hard number on this but I’m going to guess between 10 – 20% of mine are rejected unread. What I base that on are the subs entered via Submittable that are rejected without ever going from “received” into “In-Progress”.
Most Rejected? I had one story have 17 rejections before placing
Least Rejected? I have 3 stories and 5 poems that were accepted 1st time out – never rejected.
A Quick Note on Paying Markets:
Paying markets are not what you might like to think. If you show me a paying market by which you can earn a living due to their pay scale on a single piece (or on multiple pieces accepted during the course of the year) my ears will perk up. However, I doubt you can show me such a market. Glimmer Train, (as an example – many of my readers will be familiar with this publication), notes that they pay a sum total of around $50,000 each and every year to writers. Writers as in the plural of writer. That is the total payout to all of the writers they publish. $3,000 is the most they pay individually– a nice sum indeed, but that’s to the winner of their twice-yearly Fiction Opens – and they note that all prize funds are supported by the reading fees they charge.
You will not make a living submitting on a piecemeal basis to any one market. I think you are better off to submit to markets you like (you might have an affinity for one another) and markets you don’t like (obviously they need you to help build them up) and build up your resume’ by getting stuff out. Others might disagree with me, and sure, some markets take great pains to note that “we accept only the best, and our writers have often gone on to … blah blah blah.” “We accept only the best because we accept only the best is a tautology. Whoever said “We actively pursue the mediocre?” These things are in the realm of the subjective.
Absolutely you should be paid, but practically you need to get stuff published. My advice on submitting would to be to do it diligently, do it broadly, and to not second guess yourself and self-reject (i.e. I have no chance so I won’t submit) before sending. Learn the market’s basic guidelines/hit the submit button. This is the work part of being a working writer.
Exclusive Subs? Only if their response time is demonstrably fast. “Paying Market” is not a reason for exclusivity. No one pays enough money to justify exclusivity for more than 30 days. Exclusivity seems to be a thing in Sci-Fi/Fantasy markets but rarely in general lit or poetry.
At any rate, that’s my mid-2016 update in the machinery of the literature industry. If your experience is any different – or if it’s the same and you just want to commiserate – feel free to comment below.
That’ll be a 10-4 little buddies, we’re on the road and rolling,