Showing posts with label LitReactor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label LitReactor. Show all posts

Thursday, April 12, 2018

Submitting Your Story: The Cover Letter

By Steve Weddle

From my LitReactor class lecture on writing a cover letter when submitting your short story:

If you’re writing a sci-fi story, you probably don’t want to submit to Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. That’s a fairly easy call for you, I hope. Don’t send your private eye noir to Analog, either. But what about Hudson Review? What do they want? What tone do their stories hit? What’s the feel of the magazine? How are stories in the Georgia Review different from those in the Kenyon Review? From Carve?


Some magazines post sample stories online. Check these out, but don’t let them substitute for reading the magazine itself. Of course, if you’re talking about an e-zine, you’re in better shape.

I’m still surprised at how many people submit to magazines without ever looking at them. If you’re serious about your writing – and you are or you wouldn’t be here -- you’re going to want to find the best home for it. You don’t want to have a story you’ve been working on until midnight for three months straight going to an eight-page, saddle-stitched rag with an MS Paint cover.

What if you can’t afford to subscribe to fifteen magazines? Well, then you’re a normal person, because, damn, that gets pricey.

One thing you can do is sample issues, which are usually a little less expensive than the current issue. A word of warning. Don’t get a sample issue from five years back, because editors might have changed, tastes might have shifted.

If you’re near a university library, you’re in good shape as most of those still subscribe to literary magazines. If you’re relying on a public county or town library, you may be less fortunate.
Another option, which I’ve done, is to go in with friends, subscribing to different magazines, then trading once you’re done. A handful of people swapping five or six subscriptions can help build your understanding of the industry.

The Writer’s Market books are valuable resources, too. Check out the short story market books. Often, last year’s edition will go on sale at a steep discount when the new one gets close. I’ve found that a year-old short story marketplace book is usually fairly up-to-date, though you should always check everything – names of editors, reading periods – against the magazine’s website or current issue.

You can also enter writing contests at a literary magazine. I think that’s how I ended up with a two-year subscription to the Iowa Review years ago. You pay your ten bucks to enter the contest and they consider your work and send you their issues. Works great for everyone, as long as you watch the money. Some contests charge $25 to enter and offer a $500 prize. I avoid these as the ratio of fee to reward seems too high to me.

At Needle: A Magazine of Noir, we got wonderful stories about spies in Argentina, famine in Thailand, and once, so help me, unicorns on Planthar. I kid you not. The stories, with the exception of the famine story, were well done. The problem is that they weren’t for us.

Roughly twenty percent of the stories we get at Needle are about private dicks and squirrely dames, falling deeper into some mystery while Peter Lorre waits just off-stage. We’re not specifically looking for period pieces. We’re not a historical magazine any more than Georgia Review is the home for your story set in Georgia. While the Georgia Review might publish a story set in Georgia, that isn’t what the magazine is going for. You have to read the magazine. You have to get a feel for the tone. You have to do your homework.

Sending your short story to a list of magazines without doing your homework is like walking into a bar and offering to do “anything” for five bucks. Or applying to a hundred colleges.

You want to be associated with a good magazine, because you’ve worked hard on your story. You want your story to find the right home. Let’s be honest about it – you’ve probably worked your butt off if you’re ready to send it out. So when your story is ready, make sure you’ve done your homework.

When you’re ready, you need to think about what magazine you want to walk to the mailbox for and open and see your name right there on the table of contents. What link you want to send around to people to say, “Hey, thought you’d like to know about my story at this site.”

And, when you’ve picked the right spot, you’ll need to write that cover letter. A couple thoughts on that ->

You’ll want to address the letter to the editor and offer a quick sentence about why you picked this magazine and why you think your story is a good fit.

“I have enjoyed your last few issues and thought you might find my 2,500-word Elizabethan romance a good fit.”

Of course, you’ve worked months on the story. The last thing you want to do is mess up your bio, right? How silly would that be?

If this is the first real story you’re sending off, then I'd encourage you NOT to say "This is my first real story" or "I've only been writing for eleven days." You've been reading and writing for years.
Sometimes at Needle, we’d get a cover letter that will say something like "This is my first attempt at writing a story. I hope you like it." Please, don't do that. The editor doesn't want to look at your first story. It would be like opening a restaurant and saying "I've never baked a pie before. Won't you try my first attempt?"

In my experience, the writers with the least confidence tend to send in the biggest bios.

If you’re Stephen King or Janet Evanovich, you’re not going to list every publication you’ve ever been in. If you’re John Ryan Stumblebuns, you probably will.

GOOD: Jessica Smith is a short story writer and the recipient of the J. Henry Albert Award for Short Fiction. Her work has recently appeared in Cathode Quarterly and The Imagist. She lives in Chicago.
BAD: Jessica Smith has been writing since she was seven years old. Her first story, “The Trouble with Ruff-Ruff” was published in her family’s Christmas newsletter. She attended Holy Oak College and received a BA in History with a minor in French. During her time at Holy Oak, she was also editor of the literary magazine, Holy Oak Leaves Review, and volunteered at a local pet clinic. Her work has appeared at more than 100 websites, including NightShamblesEvil.blogspot.com, DolphinLove.wordpress.com, and NewStoryEveryHour.weebly.com. She lives in a small, teal bungalow outside Las Vegas, with her husband, two dogs, three fish, and a troublesome cat called Mr. Whiskers.

As with everything, THE STORY you write is the most important thing here. Editors will discount some silliness and unprofessionalism in a cover letter, but you want to give the editors fewer reasons to skip past you.

No editor ever has passed on a great story because the author’s bio was too brief. Many editors have skipped a decent story because the writer’s bio made the writer sound like an amateur.

Bonus Linkage:

Another take on Author Bios: No One Cares About Your Life Story: 9 Tips for a Better Author Bio
Stories this editor is tired of seeing: Things I’m tired of seeing in lit mag submissions 
Upcoming LitReactor Courses: https://litreactor.com/classes/upcoming

Friday, April 8, 2016

AWP Ain't "My Culture"

For most genre writers, AWP (Association of Writing Programs) is a total non-starter. The conference and book fair bring up images of people asking one another if they are poets, and where they got their MFA. And... that isn't totally incorrect.

Last year, the noir panel was scheduled as the absolute dead last panel, at a time where most attendees had left the conference center. They shoved the crime writers deep in the basement level, on the other side of the conference center, telling us (not subtly at all) that we were the outsiders.

It's no surprise that genre writers and presses look at AWP and think "not for us." Or, like some, they get the hotel room and skip the conference, using the long weekend as an excuse to hang out with friends they only see once a year. This isn't "our culture."

Nah, fuck that.

We make the culture.

L-R: Rios de la Luz, Constance Fitzgerald, Gabino Iglesias, and myself.



I go with LitReactor, where I am on the staff. We're running a course on bizarro fiction right now, which is the furthest thing from the capital-L Literary style of fiction I can imagine. The booths at the book fair that stacked up on crime fiction, bizarro, and other kickass genre fiction sold so many books some of them had to close up shop early.

LitReactor, Booked Podcast, and Broken River Books got together Friday night to eat, drink, and get weird with it. It was a great repeat of the year before - the genre folks find each other, find the good parties, and have a fucking good time. It's one time you can guarantee that the city you're in is filled with book related events and book people. 

What's my point?

If AWP ain't your culture, why the fuck aren't you out there MAKING it your culture? They can't shove us in the basement every year. They can't keep us from showing up with smiles on our faces and having a good time in the sea of booths full of people who seem like they sort of want to be somewhere else. They can't stop us from selling more books than the other guys.

If you have to choose between Boucher and AWP, by all means, pick Boucher. But don't shrug off AWP all together - you'll miss too many great parties.

Friday, April 1, 2016

The First Rule of Writing Conferences Is...

DON'T COMMUTE.

A couple years ago, Bouchercon was in Long Beach, which is about an hour's drive from my home. I couldn't attend the entire conference, so I commuted. Given that I wouldn't have been able to attend at all if I didn't drive, the big pains in the ass that driving brought with it seemed minimal.

This lead me to a fairly disastrous decision.

AWP 2016 is my second AWP with the LitReactor crew and I've been looking forward to it since I said goodbye to my awesome teammates last year. Things have been a little crazy, so I thought, why not make them crazier? I committed to commuting each way to and from Los Angeles this year.

It's day one and I am fucking done.

Luckily for me, the LitReactor crew is full of awesome people and I don't have to repeat today's mistake over the next two days, but damn was that a hard lesson. I left my house at six am and didn't get home until after nine - and that was with missing the reading I wanted to attend. I was so wiped out from the drive that the normally slow and relaxed first day of the conference went by me in a coffee fueled blur - I didn't even think to take photos.

I also didn't drink enough water, eat enough food, or follow any of the common sense rules of surviving a conference, but that's okay. I get Friday and Saturday to make up for it - and Friday night at the LitReactor/Broken River Books/ Booked Podcast party (Check out the info HERE if you're local) I can have a few drinks and try to forget this, the day I thought commuting two hours to and from Los Angeles was anything but a disaster of an idea!

Come see us at booth 322 if you're at AWP, and if you're in the area, be sure to check out our party!

Thursday, July 23, 2015

You're like school in the summertime: No class

By Steve Weddle

As they used to say on the Fat Albert television program:
You're like school in the summertime -- no class.

And yet, here's a class.


Pass the word, friends and neighbors. I'm back at LitReactor, starting August 6. Fundamentals in Short Fiction is 4-week class discussing character, plot, setting, dialog and all those elements you need to build an effective story, 

Goals Of This Class

  • You will complete this class with a finished, publishable story in hand, and a skillset to craft your own fiction with compelling characters, rewarding plot, and telling setting.
  • You will be able to understand and use the best contemporary storytelling techniques, learned through our carefully cultivated weekly readings.
  • You will be able to move forward, using these techniques to enhance your own voice and vision.
  • You will have raised your own standards for writing, working with classmates and the instructor through detailed discussion and line edits of your manuscript.

You don't always need an MFA for writing. Wait, MFA? Who said MFA? Oh, that's right. I did. I have an MA and and MFA, so I was ripe for the picking, it seems. Lisa Ciarfella and Elaine Ash chatted me up about the MFA program. To MFA or Not

Neither degree has been a golden ticket for anything I’ve done. The biggest benefit I got from the MFA was finding a group of like-minded people who were passionate about the same things I was. You think anyone at my office today wants to talk about whether Gordon Lish’s influence is what made Raymond Carver a great writer? About whether opening with straight dialog is a risk? About open endings in short stories? Heck, no. But the people I went through the MFA program with me STILL DO. I’ve got a dozen or so friends from that time who are still adamant about stories.Essentially, we created a network of readers and writers that we’re still involved with. It’s pretty damn glorious. >>