Books:

**** Historical Atlas of the Celtic World by John Haywood


Stories:

** "Black Magic" by Resa Nelson
** "Logicist" by Carol Emshwiller
**** "Blocked" by Geoff Ryman
*** "The Language of the Whirlwind" by Lavie Tidhar
*** "The Sky is Large and the Earth is Small" by Chris Roberson
*** "Through the Blood" by Mette Ivie Harrison
**** "Gizzard Stones" by Garth Upshaw
**** "Shatterach Gates" by Paul Daly
**** "Stone Man" by Nancy Kress
**** "Halloween Town" by Lucius Shepard
*** "Mermaid" by Robert Reed
*** "Remembering" by Deborah J. Ross
*** "Never Blood Enough" by Joe Haldeman
**** "I Waltzed with a Zombie" by Ron Goulart
**** "Orm the Beautiful" by Elizabeth Bear
**** "The Manticore Spell" by Jeffrey Ford
***** "The President's Book Tour" by M. Rickert
*** "Through Time and Space with Ferdinand Feghoot—LXXI" by Ron Partridge
*** "Squirrel Errant" by Michael H. Payne
***** "Another Life" by Charles Oberndorf
**** "Shadows on the Wall of the Cave" by Kate Wilhelm
**** "The Constable of Abal" by Kelly Link


Quick Takes:

Historical Atlas of the Celtic World by John Haywood: not just maps (although it includes many excellent ones), but a series of short, readable essays on different phases of the Celtic world from prehistory to present day, thorough and historically sound.

"Gizzard Stones" by Garth Upshaw (Beneath Ceaseless Skies): Exciting, engaging tale for goblin lovers everywhere. Nice world-building.

"Halloween Town" by Lucius Shepard (F&SF): very entertaining novella that may be fantasy, or sf, or perhaps just bizarre. Think Twin Peaks meets The Island of Dr. Moreau.

"Orm the Beautiful" by Elizabeth Bear (Best SF & Fantasy of the Year, v2): a beautifully written and genuinely original dragon story.

"Another Life" by Charles Oberndorf (F&SF): compelling and thought-provoking story of a time when people are reborn in new bodies, but with memories only up to the time of their last 'backup'.

"The Constable of Abal" by Kelly Link (Best SF & Fantasy of the Year, v2): intriguing and inventive fantasy involving ghosts, gods, and witchcraft.


My ratings:
***** excellent: memorable, satisfying, a pleasure to read
**** very good: well written, good read
*** good: readable, engaging, but not very memorable or exciting for me
** sub-par: a rough read, I found it flawed or just uninteresting to me
* huh? someone published this?

My ratings are part objective appraisal of the writing, part unapologetic personal preference (certain subjects and subgenres just don't appeal to me as much as others)

        

This story takes place in a Slavic-inspired corner of my Greenhall world, where it is believed that the spirits of the ancestors watch over and protect the living. But how do the ancestors feel about that arrangement? About 5300 words.

        

The Lord of the Rings became my favorite book the first time I read it, and has remained so, despite the fact that age and maturity have made me more sensitive to its shortcomings.

Tolkien's work redefined the ground rules for future generations of fantasists, chiefly by virtue of the depth and tone of his world-building. Before Tolkien, fantasy typically required apology of some sort, a gimmick to explain why anyone would tell a story about the unreal. The fantasy world might be a dream, a moralizing parable, a self-conscious artificial fairy tale. Tolkien changed all that by insisting that his world of Middle-Earth stand on its own terms, requiring no explanation or authorial wink. All the languages, histories, genealogies, maps, and tales-within-a-tale that Tolkien crafted so laboriously contribute to the autonomy of his creation. This is a self-explaining world, a world greater and older than the stories that take place within it.

Readers who loved the sense of total immersion that Middle-Earth provided naturally wanted more. By the 1970s, the imitations were proliferating. Before long, there was a whole new generation of readers for whom the generic "fantasyland" of the Tolkien clones and Dungeons & Dragons was simply a given. Ironically, the very essence of the fantastic, subverting the rules of reality, was betrayed by this trend. Generic fantasyland became a completely known quanitity, whose basic rules were seldom questioned. At most, some writer would tweak a detail or two in the interests of originality.

Here's a partial list of fantasyland clichés:

• elves, dwarves (especially when spelled thus), goblins/orcs, little people, wizards, dragons
• magical artifacts that can save/destroy the world
• quests into danger, especially involving a small company of characters of different race/profession
• lofty, archaic-sounding language
• names that sound like Tolkien's Elvish names
• Invented languages
• maps, especially ones with mountains and forests indicated as Tolkien did
• lots of walking in wilderness landscapes, especially forests
• good vs. evil
• feudal kingdoms and isolated communal enclaves as the only political structures
• lost heir to the throne
• color coding (the character of creatures/people and of landscape features is shown by their physical appearance)
• technology stuck c. 1000 CE
• immersive, secondary world
• trilogy/series books

The more of these features a piece of fantasy writing has, the more likely it is to be quickly dismissed as yet another generic Tolkien clone. That's not good news for writers who actually like some of these things (I adore maps and languages, myself.) Some writers are so leery of this stigma that they avoid the entire European mythos, or work in different subgenres, such as urban fantasy and dark fantasy, that have more or less escaped the taint.

My own approach to finding a spot outside Tolkien's shadow is more subtle, but perhaps also more fundamental. I focus on making my characters very organic, people who (like us) make their way uncertainly through an unscripted life, driven by subtle complexities of character. Tolkien's characters all serve his cosmology, and this, perhaps, lies behind many of the items listed above.

Although most of my fantasy stories are set in a European-style milieu, I think they are basically a different kind of story than The Lord of the Rings or its imitators. They are about people who are not icons of anything, people who do not make history (except, perhaps, in a very fitful and accidental fashion). At least, that is my intention. I can only hope that it comes through in my writing.

        

Books:

**** The Early Slavs by P. M. Barford
*** The Complete Idiot's Guide to Publishing Science Fiction by Cory Doctorow and Karl Schroeder


Stories:

** "The Frog's Princess" by Kristin Noone
*** "Red Dirt Kingdom" by Jay Lake
**** "Bob and the Mermaid" by William R. Eakin
***** "Urdumheim" by Michael Swanwick
**** "Winter's Wife" by Elizabeth Hand
*** "Where the Winds Are All Asleep" by Michael F. Flynn
**** "The Hanged Man" by William Gleason
**** "Shalott's Inn" by Leah Cypress
**** "Teddy Bear Toys" by Carl Frederick
** "In the Autumn of the Empire" by Jerry Oltion
**** "A Diorama of the Infernal Regions, or the Devil's Ninth Question" by Andy Duncan
***** "Holiday" by M. Rickert
**** "Shallow Copy" by Jesse L. Watson
*** "An Idea Whose Time Had Come" by Robert Grossbach
*** "Wolf Maiden" by Linda L. Donahue
**** "Cold Words" by Juliette Wade
***** "The Things" by Peter Watts
**** "The Far Shore" by Elizabeth Hand
*** "The Valley of the Gardens" by Tony Daniel
**** "After the Dragon" by Sarah Monette
*** "Return to Sender" by James Maxey
**** "Barrens Dance" by Peter S. Beagle
**** "Bandits of the Trace" by Albert E. Cowdrey
*** "The Way They Wove the Spells in Sippulgar" by Robert Silverberg


Quick Takes:

The Complete Idiot's Guide to Publishing Science Fiction by Cory Doctorow and Karl Schroeder: my review is on my main web site

"Urdumheim" by Michael Swanwick (Best SF and Fantasy of the Year, vol.2): artful reworking of the Sumerian mythos, probing themes of language and civilization

"The Hanged Man" by William Gleason (Analog): nicely done psychological horror tale in science-fictional trappings

"Shalott's Inn" by Leah Cypress (Sword and Sorceress XXIII): a pleasing riff on the Tennyson poem

"Teddy Bear Toys" by Carl Frederick (Analog): fun tale of recursion and self-reference in simulated (and actual?) reality

"A Diorama of the Infernal Regions, or the Devil's Ninth Question" by Andy Duncan (Wizards): ghosts, wizards, the Devil, and the Winchester House, seamlessly woven into a very satisfying coming-of-age story

"Holiday" by M. Rickert (Best SF and Fantasy of the Year, vol.2): unsettling, poignant ghost fantasy evoking memories of Jonbenet Ramsey.

"The Things" by Peter Watts (Clarkesworld): excellent retelling of The Thing, from the point of view of the alien creature!

"Barrens Dance" by Peter S. Beagle (Wizards): beautifully written tale of obsession, love, and magic.


My ratings:
***** excellent: memorable, satisfying, a pleasure to read
**** very good: well written, good read
*** good: readable, engaging, but not very memorable or exciting for me
** sub-par: a rough read, I found it flawed or just uninteresting to me
* huh? someone published this?

My ratings are part objective appraisal of the writing, part unapologetic personal preference (certain subjects and subgenres just don't appeal to me as much as others)

        

This story was the result of a collaboration with writer Michael Vella of Malta. It's a time travel story, but one that focuses on relationships and the psychology of loss. The title comes from Tennessee Williams' The Glass Menagerie. About 6000 words.

        

When I decided to start writing fantasy and science fiction seriously last year, I realized I had a lot of homework to do. I had read a lot of fiction as a teenager, but recently I'd been mostly just dipping into nonfiction books related to my hobbies (languages, spirituality, philosophy, gaming, gardening, cooking...) I didn't feel at all "plugged in" with what was happening in speculative fiction these days.

I've heard some aspiring writers say they don't want to read published fiction, either because reading impinges on writing time or because they don't want to be influenced by what other writers are doing. I take the contrary view, I think it's helpful to be as widely read as possible. Editors and readers read a great deal, and I want to know how they are likely to view my own writing. Furthermore, I do enjoy fantasy and science fiction, and find well-written stories and novels inspiring. I also believe a writer will have more trouble finding their own voice and style if they read too little, rather than too much.

I set myself a goal of reading 20 books and 200 short stories in 2009. I essentially met this goal, polishing off 18 books and 196 short stories (not counting the 50 or so I read to critique through Critters). I read short stories in anthologies, print magazines, and online magazines. My book reading included not just novels, but nonfiction books about writing and speculative fiction, and books on topics that were relevant research for my writing. Also on my reading list are some works of literary fiction, horror, and paranormal mystery (most of which I haven't actually gotten to yet). As you can see, I try to keep some diversity in my reading, although of course there is only so much time! 178 different writers are represented on my reading list.

In addition, I read Locus magazine cover to cover for reviews and news of the sf/fantasy writing world, and read the reviews and nonfiction articles in the other magazines I read. I also read Science News, to keep a connection with the world of science. The articles there didn't specifically inspire any of my science fiction stories, but it's good to "prime the pump" with science and technology news and lingo.

I regret not having read more novels this year (I read only five). This was partly a consequence of spending time in anthologies I had begun before setting my goals, and partly being bogged down in a long fantasy novel I didn't really enjoy in the midst of the year. (I'm pretty determined to finish reading things, even if I'm not enjoying them much.)

I rated everything I read on a scale of 1 to 5. Among short stories and books by sf/fantasy writers, I rated 27 as "2", 83 as "3", 70 as "4", and 24 as "5". That's a pretty balanced histogram, centered between 3 ("OK") and 4 ("good").

The ratings allowed me to keep tabs on which writers, magazines, and anthologies I liked best. Favorite print magazines were Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.7 average) and Realms of Fantasy (3.5). On line, I especially enjoyed Clarkesworld (3.6), Orson Scott Card's Intergalactic Medicine Show, and Beneath Ceaseless Skies (both 3.5). My favorite anthology was Jonathan Strahan's The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year, volume 2, which earned an impressive 3.8 average.

New "favorite" writers I've discovered during this year's reading include (in no particular order) Octavia E. Butler, Aliette de Bodard, Daniel Abraham, Fred Chappell, Ted Chiang, Ken Scholes, Marie Brennan, Steven Baxter, Susan Palwick, and Tony Pi.

Now, looking back, I feel that this reading program has been wonderfully helpful. I do feel "plugged in" again now. I feel like I know what's being done, what the really good stuff is like, and am even getting a sense of where my own niche as a writer lies. Additionally, reading all this published fiction has been a good "reality check" regarding what is (and is not) needed to make a work publishable. It's both frustrating and encouraging to see mediocre fiction in print. It's also helpful to notice truly excellent writers who don't adhere to all the writing-class rules that I can sometimes take too much to heart.

It's been a good year, and my reading experiences have affirmed my conviction that it's good for an aspiring writer to read frequently and widely.

        

Books:

**** Beginning Theory: An Introduction to Literary and Cultural Theory by Peter Barry


Stories:

**** "The Private Eye" by Albert E. Cowdrey
***** "Snowfall" by Jessie Thompson
** "A Fowl Tale" by Eoin Colfer
**** "Singing of Mount Abora" by Theodora Goss
**** "Esoteric City" by Bruce Sterling
***** "Evergreen" by Shane Tourtellotte
*** "Deermouse" by K. D. Wentworth
*** "From the Ground Up" by Marie DesJardin
*** "Attitude Adjustment" by Eric James Stone
**** "Slipping Sideways through Eternity" by Jane Yolen
***** "Last Contact" by Stephen Baxter
** "The Last Resort" by Alec Nevala-Lee
**** "Away from Here" by Lisa Goldstein
*** "Camera Obscured" by Ferrett Steinmetz
**** "Soulmates" by Mike Resnick and Lezli Robyn
*** "Blood Moon" by Catherine Mintz
*** "In Their Garden" by Brenda Cooper
*** "The Day Before the Day Before" by Steve Rasnic Tem
*** "Jesus Christ, Reanimator" by Ken McLeod
**** "The Stranger's Hands" by Tad Williams
*** "Tear-Down" by Benjamin Crowell
**** "Her Heart's Desire" by Jerry Oltion
*** "Stolen Ghosts" by Jonathan Moeller
*** "Broken Windchimes" by Kristine Kathryn Rusch
*** "Flower Fairies" by Kristine Kathryn Rusch
*** "Naming Day" by Patricia A. McKillip
***** "Sorrel's Heart" by Susan Palwick
**** "Tío Gilberto and the Twenty-Seven Ghosts" by Ben Francisco
**** "Nell and the Devil" by S. E. Ward


Quick Takes:

Beginning Theory: An Introduction to Literary and Cultural Theory by Peter Barry: As an innocent product of an education in the physical sciences, I am accustomed to using the word "theory" to mean a system of concepts and principles that can be applied systematic to explain how something works. Hence it was a little disorienting to find that in the world of literary studies, "theory" refers to any number of stances or attitudes that people may assume toward the subject of literature,most of which appear to be already out of fashion. Nevertheless, this book is a very readable survey of the subject, with many welcome examples and summaries.

"Snowfall" by Jessie Thompson (F&SF reprint): powerful and moving vignette of a young girl's retreat from abuse and violence; strangely beautiful

"Evergreen" by Shane Tourtellotte (Analog): Very real, character-driven story about a near futures where some people have been genetically modified to stop aging while still children.

"Away from Here" by Lisa Goldstein (Asimov's): an engaging parable about moments of magic and the trap of living waiting for them to return.

"Soulmates" by Mike Resnick and Lezli Robyn (Asimov's): a bit of an homage to classic robot stories, nicely done.

"Broken Windchimes" by Kristine Kathryn Rusch (Asimov's): a castrato opera singer working for an alien species who demand perfection returns to human space and encounters the blues. The idea seemed to be exhausted long before the story ended.

"Sorrel's Heart" by Susan Palwick (Best SF and Fantasy of the Year, vol. 2): dark and strange, but intense in power and meaning


My ratings:
***** excellent: memorable, satisfying, a pleasure to read
**** very good: well written, good read
*** good: readable, engaging, but not very memorable or exciting for me
** sub-par: a rough read, I found it flawed or just uninteresting to me
* huh? someone published this?

My ratings are part objective appraisal of the writing, part unapologetic personal preference (certain subjects and subgenres just don't appeal to me as much as others)

        

Learning how to write fiction well is a formidable task, and sometimes a frustrating one. When I embarked on this effort last year, I knew I was competent with the English language (I worked as a technical editor for some years), but not very practiced at the ways of storytelling. When I was writing for my own self-expression, I tended to focus on atmosphere, world-building, and ideas. All of these are desirable elements of speculative fiction, but are no real replacement for plot, character, and conflict.  I was also a bit clueless about how to approach the matter of literary style, and not well informed about many technical points of fiction writing, such as point of view, transitions, and pacing.

Where does one go to learn all this and become a better writer? Professional editors, agents, and publishers tend to communicate by form letter, having neither time nor motivation to comment on unsolicited manuscripts. Classes and workshops are a possibility, but the better ones are expensive and often restrictive. They represent more of a commitment of time and money than a typical beginner can easily handle.

That leaves books and critique groups.

I purchased and read a fair number of books on writing. (There are reviews of most of them on my main site.) These tend to fall into two categories: how-to books and reflections by celebrity writers. The latter, when well done, can provide a lot of inspiration and give a glimpse into the writing life. The ones I've read, though, don't have a whole lot of substance about the craft of writing. Being good at something and knowing how to teach it effectively are two very different skills. There is also the risk, with this kind of book, of mistaking a particular writer's idiosyncrasies for universal truths.

The how-to books were more helpful, but less inspiring. They are filled with sound advice (mostly the same advice from one book to the next). I learned a lot from these books, but the effect was a bit numbing, in two ways. First, I started to feel overwhelmed by the number of rules (or suggested approaches) being invoked. Every bit of text carries all these different burdens - plot, character development, description, style, point of view, etc. It's a near impossible task to get all these things "right" at the same time! It's hard enough just to remember them all. Second, the advice in these books began to seem a little narrow to me, like a recipe for writing a formula best-seller. Does every book have to interest every reader in just the same way?

The underlying problem with writing books is that they cannot be tailored to the reader. Someone writing a how-to book on writing must make some default assumptions about their readership - skill level, knowledge, goals. Such a book also has to focus on the most commonly encountered problems in novice writing (wordiness and excessive exposition being big ones). So the generic advice in the book may not be the best advice for you as an aspiring writer.

I'm glad I read these books. They gave me some good information and a solid overview of the important elements of a work of fiction. I refer to them from time to time. But I don't sweat over making sure my own writing follows the recommendations in these books in great detail. I also perform regular "reality checks" against the books and stories I enjoy reading. If good, published writers do something a certain way, I regard it as fair game to try in my own writing.

So I guess I'd say I've taken what I learned from the how-to books and internalized it as a kind of background for my writing and editing activities.

I drifted around some writing forums on the net before stumbling upon Critters, an enormous and well-organized site for trading critiques of science fiction, fantasy, and horror fiction. If you participate, you are virtually guaranteed to receive a copious handful (or more) of critiques of pieces you post. When I joined, I had never had a story critiqued before. I realized some of the critiquers would be more knowledgeable than others, but I approached it with the spirit that any reaction to my work would reveal something helpful. Alas, this is not quite so. Participants in this site run the entire gamut from published writers to utter wannabes who lack even basic skills in grammar and punctuation. The critiques represent a similar range, and I've learned to ignore a fair fraction of the "advice" I receive here. Nevertheless, the good critiques can be quite helpful, and the volume is nice. If three or four otherwise competent readers balk at the same element or passage in your story, it's clear that it needs some work.

It was via Critters that I connected with a smaller group of aspiring writers whose interests and abilities are comparable to my own. This group has been invaluable to me. We exchange written critiques, and also connect regularly via skype to discuss individual stories. I usually come away from such a critique with a clear idea of how to shift the emphasis of my stories to make them work better.

The two pieces of advice I'd give to anyone seeking a critique group are (1) find people who regularly read in the genre you write, and (2) find people whose skill level is comparable to your own. Each genre has its own conventions, and someone not used to reading in your genre can mistake unfamiliar elements for problems, and miss other problems that genre readers would not. At the very least, they will be reading your work with the preconception that it's not something they prefer to read. As for skill level, it's important to have critique partners who struggle with issues similar to the ones you face. If they are total novices struggling with mechanics, they can't help you much with characterization, plotting, and so on. Likewise, as a critiquer, you learn the most if you're trying to articulate what's wrong with a story when the problems are neither trivial nor beyond your capacity to spot.

Family members, I think it goes without saying, do not substitute for a good critique group, unless of course they are writers themselves and your relationship is open to objective criticism. Sharing stories with family members is nice to do, and can be a welcome source of encouragement, but encouragement and advice are not the same thing.

After getting a story critiqued, I have to deal with the prospect of revision. I know some writers who will completely rework a piece in response to a critique. That's not something I've been inclined to do as yet. If I think there are fundamental problems with the piece, I'd rather just begin the next one and try to learn whatever lessons the experience had for me. If there is a consensus (or at least a quorum) among the critiquers that a certain element or scene is not working well, I do go back and rewrite some. Often this is just a matter of emphasizing something I took for granted when writing, strengthening a plot connection, or making a more consistent sense of contact with the main character.

This brings me to a final matter, the psychology of criticism. It's not easy to have your creative undertakings dissected and critiqued. Even when the critiquer is diplomatic, I find myself becoming defensive regarding some particulars of a story. It can feel sometimes like navigating Scylla and Charybdis - finding a path between being imperviously arrogant about your own work (then why seek advice at all? Maybe you're really just after praise instead) and abjectly taking to heart every remark, no matter how intrinsically valid it may be. There's no magic formula for that, I've found. I do try to strike a balance, but I find there are always particular points where I struggle with whether or not to make a change.

In my experience, advice on writing is very important, although not as important as a clear internal compass regarding what I have to say and how I want to say it. Different readers react differently, even knowledgeable professionals. One person's glaring fault is overlooked by another. Knowing what I mean to accomplish, and what kind of reader I want to appeal to, lets me filter through the different pieces of advice and attend to the ones that are most helpful for the particular piece.

Finally, the value of writing advice seems to me to be cumulative rather than transformative. It gradually nudges me to notice things I'm disposed to neglect, and gradually seeps into the writing itself.

Next time, I'll conclude this end-of-year recap of my adventures in writing with a look at what I've been reading.

        

It's been a year now since I've been writing fiction seriously, and I've decided to make a series of blog posts about the process and the experience. I'll be relating what I did and how it's worked for me so far.

One of the things I did early on was to set myself a clear goal. I know that can sound a little hokey, but I think it's important. Why? Because different goals call for different ways of approaching the task.

For many years, I'd been writing bits of stories on and off, for myself and for friends to read, with no thought to getting them published or widely distributed. (I had sent some stories to magazines in my teen years, but became discouraged and then distracted with career and family, and let the ambition go dormant.) This was fine for what it was, but I felt I wanted to take on something more now.

So what should the goal be? Simply being in print? Being distributed somehow (on the web, say)? Making money? Becoming famous? Becoming a best-selling writer? Receiving critical acclaim? Some of those are obviously more remote ambitions than others. Frankly, none of them felt quite right.

So I mulled it over, and settled on this: I want my fiction to be readily accessible to anyone who wants to read the sort of things I write.

Despite the fact that Internet marketing and easy self-publishing are opening new options for getting books to readers, this goal really implies professional, traditional publication. (See this post for a discussion of why self-published fiction doesn't make the cut for me, at least not yet.)

So, given my goal, it was clear that I would need to learn to write to professional standards and seek publication in professional markets. I already knew something about how to go about this from my younger days, and was surprised that things hadn't really changed that much. The same fantasy and science fiction magazines are still around, and they still accept unsolicited submissions the same way (i. e., they want stacks of paper that look like they came off your 1938 Smith-Corona typewriter). There were a couple differences, though: there are more markets now, including a number of professional-paying online magazines, and there are more opportunities for selling novels without selling short stories first. (It used to be an almost obligatory progression from magazines to books. That is no longer the case, although it's still probably more frequent than not.)

I decided to focus on short stories, for the simple reason that they represent less investment in time, and allow me to work on improving my craft by learning from previous attempts. I set a goal of producing one short story per month, a goal that I've essentially met. (I spent November doing NaNoWriMo and produced a 50,000-word novel draft). I have eleven short stories presently looking for publication. There are enough paying markets that I haven't had to retire any of them yet.

Having such a goal demands (a) writing a lot, and (b) submitting a lot.

Aspiring writers are often told to write every day. I don't find that necessary for myself. The important idea behind this advice is to write regularly, not just when you feel inspired. I write most evenings for an hour or so after dinner, and more on the weekends. I'll skip days if I'm between stories or if something comes up that needs my attention instead. But I have kept at it, as the output of stories shows. One of the things that made this discipline possible for me was getting away from the mindset of "waiting for inspiration". I don't need to wait for the next Lord of the Rings or Dune to come to me in a great vision in order to write. I just need the basic elements of theme, character, and conflict, and then develop them as best I can. It's often surprising, actually, how stories become richer in the telling. What may seem like a too-sparse kernel of story can work itself into something meaningful, if you have a little faith.

Submitting stories to professional markets takes an odd combination of ego and humility. You need enough confidence to toss your work into an extremely competitive arena, but enough detachment to accept the inevitable rejections without bitterness or frustration. For me, the trick is to remember that the readers for professional magazines are not school teachers; their role is not to evaluate your writing and give you a grade. Their job is just to reply to the hundreds of submissions they receive, while keeping half an eye open for the rare piece from an unknown writer that might actually happen to fill a need in their publication. It's a long shot, and a crap shoot. But keeping stories in circulation is the only way to create the opportunity for professional publication.

The lack of feedback on your work (form-letter rejections are the norm in the business) can mess with your mind if you let it. I have to resist the urge to magnify every tidbit of information or opinion about what makes a story salable. Sure, understanding the weak points in my writing is a necessary step to improvement, but I balance the self-criticism with frequent "reality checks" against stories and books that do make it into print, even without this or that magic ingredient. I try to stay centered on the basic commitment to write about people and subjects I care about. Given that core, I then try to make each piece as engaging and well-crafted as possible.

My writing is much better now than it was a year ago, and regular practice is a big part of the reason. It's been an important personal shift for me, too: I spent many years dabbling in unfinished, self-indulgent projects and resisted the discipline needed to actually get things done. Now I've embraced the discipline, the dedication, and the persistence, and I feel better for having done so.

I have no professional sales yet. The high points this year were being a finalist in the Writers of the Future contest (with only the second story I sent them) and making it out of the slush pile at Asimov's to get a personalized rejection letter from the editor. These are both "one chance in a hundred" kind of events, and I'm very excited to have gotten noticed in both these venues. I've read enough interviews with professional sf and fantasy writers to know that this is an excellent start for one year of work, and I'm encouraged to keep up the pace (or maybe even step it up a bit) for 2010.

In my next post, I'll talk about writing advice - where I've looked for it and how I've used it.

        

Stories:

** "Well and Truly Broken" by Bruce Holland Rogers
*** "Daughters of Brightshield" by Pauline J. Alama
*** "The Mermaids Singing Each to Each" by Cat Rambo
**** "Two Boys" by Steven Popkes
**** "Turbulence" by Kristine Kathryn Rusch
*** "The Gas Drinkers" by Edward Sevcik
***** "The Cambist and Lord Iron: A Fairy Tale of Economics" by Daniel Abraham
***** "California Burning" by Michael Blumlein
*** "The Art of the Dragon" by Sean McMullen
*** "The Phlogiston Age" by Corey Brown
**** "By Fools Like Me" by Nancy Kress
**** "You Are Such a One" by Nancy Springer
**** "Token of a Better Age" by Melinda M. Snodgrass
*** "Undivided" by Marian Allen
**** "Color Vision" by Mary Rosenblum
*** "Hunchster" by Matthew Hughes
***** "The Goddamned Tooth Fairy" by Tina Kuzminski
*** "Mask Glass Magic" by John Burridge
** "Kiosk" by Bruce Sterling
**** "The Bones of Giants" by Yoon Ha Lee
**** "The Oval Portrait" by Edgar Allan Poe
*** "Icarus Saved from the Skies" by Georges-Olivier Châteaureynaud, translated by Edward Gauvin
** "The Ruby Incomparable" by Kage Baker
** "The Fairest of Them All" by Melissa Mead
**** "The Others" by Lawrence C. Connolly
**** "Three Leaves of Aloe" by Rand B. Lee


Quick Takes:

"Well and Truly Broken" by Bruce Holland Rogers (Realms of Fantasy): sorry, I just don't get it.

"The Cambist and Lord Iron: A Fairy Tale of Economics" by Daniel Abraham (Best SF and Fantasy of the Year, vol. 2): exquisitely done parable-style tale, reads almost like a classic 19th-century short story

"California Burning" by Michael Blumlein (Asimov's): This one grew on me after I finished it. Low-key tale of a man learning about his recently deceased father's very "unusual" nature.

"The Art of the Dragon" by Sean McMullen (F&SF): a two-mile long golden dragon comes out of nowhere and starts destroying the world's great works of art. Interesting premise, but the resolution didn't do much for me.

"You Are Such a One" by Nancy Springer (F&SF): thought-provoking story of a woman who becomes a ghost—or perhaps chooses to stop being one. I can't decide if the second-person point of view is annoying and pretentious, or integral to the idea.

"Token of a Better Age" by Melinda M. Snodgrass (F&SF): interesting take on the "ancient gods were really interlopers from another world" trope; good historical ambiance.

"Color Vision" by Mary Rosenblum (Wizards anthology): beautifully executed story of a synesthetic girl and her connection with the unseen world of magic.

"The Goddamned Tooth Fairy" by Tina Kuzminski (F&SF classic reprint): I wasn't sure I was going to like this story, but found myself quite moved.

"Kiosk" by Bruce Sterling (The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy of the Year, vol. 2): This was just way too long and slow for my tastes.
 

My ratings:
***** excellent: memorable, satisfying, a pleasure to read
**** very good: well written, good read
*** good: readable, engaging, but not very memorable or exciting for me
** sub-par: a rough read, I found it flawed or just uninteresting to me
* huh? someone published this?

My ratings are part objective appraisal of the writing, part unapologetic personal preference (certain subjects and subgenres just don't appeal to me as much as others)