Recently, I received a very good rejection letter from The Future Fire, an online speculative fiction magazine that likes dark, noirish cyberpunk stories with social commentary. I figured my story "The Snatcher" would be perfect for TFF--it's somewhat dark, has a definitive noirish feel to it, and is sprinkled with cyberpunk elements throughout.

Here's the rejection letter I received from them:

Dear six blocks east of mars,

Thanks for sending 'The Snatcher' for consideration by The Future Fire. Our referees have now read this story, and after some discussion we have finally decided not to take it for publication. Apologies forthe longer than usual delay in getting back to you with this decision.

This was a well-written, convincing noir piece, and we all pretty much enjoyed it. It felt incomplete, however: on one level there wasn't really a climax to the story, there wasn't really a point to it. This reads well as the opening chapter of a longer piece, but for us it wasn't really free-standing. (A question worth asking, if this is indeed a free-standing short story, would be, "Why could this not have been a crime story set in Chicago in the 1950s of our own world, rather than an alternative future?" As it stands only the implants inthe dead body could not be historical, and they are more of a plot mcguffin than a central part of the story.)

In any case, we wanted to stress that we didn't think this was a badstory, and we hope you'll consider submitting other work to us in the
future.

Editor, The Future Fire
<http://futurefire.net>(Speculative Cyberpunk Dark) + Fiction

A bit of background on "The Snatcher:" it isn't a "free-standing" story, but part of a larger three-arc story that belongs to the collection of stories I'm currently writing set in a near future city-state Chicago. The first arc, "Built for the Kill," was published June 1 by down in the cellar, and the third arc has been accepted for the forthcoming Our Shadows Soar anthology.

However, I thought the story was written in a way that allowed it to stand alone, and its point (social commentary on political corruption that makes the rich richer and the poor poorer) was clear. A difference of opinions, but the editor's opinion does have some merit: the story's climax was, for the most part, non-existent.

Here is my response to TFF:

Editor,

Thank you for considering "The Snatcher" and for your long, in-depth response. You and your referees are correct; the story isn't quite stand-alone and is the second part of a larger three-arc story that,i n turn, belongs to a larger story set in the near future. The world depicted in the larger story includes a city-state Chicago, and details the powers-that-be who encourage corruption to make the now city-state a black market center of the country.

I would argue there is a climax, albeit a weak one: Bino Spectre's winning the "snatch" of the body. Ultimately in this world, the one with the most corrupt power or corrupt friends (in this case, Bob Kill) wins out, but Bino upped the stakes with severe blackmail. In short, the story is social commentary on the corrupt nature of politics.

Thank you again for your in-depth response, and I will definitely submit again in the near future.

Sincerely,

six blocks east of mars

My main issue with the editor's response to the story is his misreading of the organ's being "snatched" at the end of the story as implants and his labeling them as a MacGuffin. The story explicitly states why Bino Spectre snatches the organs, as well as what he plans to do with them. That being said, due to the nature of the story being the second arc, there is a MacGuffin: the body. It's never described or even explained how it got there.

So, after a bit of thought, I've revised the story. It now has a more solid climax, is as stand alone as it can be, and even has stronger cyberpunk elements that no longer give the impression the body's organs are MacGuffins. I submitted the revision to TFF last night, and it should be interesting to read their take on the changes.

There is a slight problem with the revised manuscript I noticed this morning while making the changes to a backup copy. In my excitement to get TFF the manuscript quickly, and get my new ideas down before I forgot exactly how I wanted them worded, I neglected to change a detail regarding the organs. I don't believe it would be a story-rejecting mistake, but the mistake could cause confusion. Then again, TFF may take it as such; it was an issue they had with the initial submission.

Note for the future (pun intended): proofread again. And then again. And then again. And then once more.

The Speculative Literature Foundation (SLF) is delighted to announce that its fifth annual Older Writers Grant is to be awarded to Deborah Roggie. The $750 grant is intended to assist writers who are fifty years of age or older at the time of grant application, and who are just starting to work at a professional level.

After graduating with a history degree from Rutgers University in 1978, Deborah Roggie stayed in New Jersey to work as a writer, trainer and technical specialist in the insurance and telecommunications industries. However, she fell in love with writing at the age of ten after reading The Hobbit and Harriet the Spy. History helped drive that love for writing, though, and she majored in the subject because she’s fascinated with the past and enjoys finding stories buried in the old texts. In particular, she’s intrigued by how differently our predecessors saw their world, how our past is remembered, and how we use the timeless world of fairy tales to make sense of our lives today. So, it comes as no surprise that her stories feature talking snakes, bears shape shifting into women, and love potions that work all too well.

Currently, she is working on an untitled novel set in New Jersey during the first decade of the twentieth century where a family with hidden ties to Faerie must maintain a façade of respectability despite the desperate longings and secret adventures of various family members.

Grant Administrator Malon Edwards said of Roggie’s entry, The Puzzle Tree: “From the beginning, the reader is thoroughly taken with the witch Tamana Sorn: she’s kind, strong-willed but flawed, and extremely intelligent. She comes alive when dispensing her knowledge of herb lore to her apprentice Braye Smitson, and the little boy in me can’t help but envy him for all of the wonderful things he learns.”

Honorable mentions go to Ada Milenkovic Brown, Rae Bridgman, Ralan Conley, Marcelle Dubé and Guy Immega for their unique and thought-provoking submissions, which made the selection of the eventual winner a difficult but enjoyable process.

To read more about Deborah Roggie, click here. To read an excerpt from Ms. Roggie's winning entry, The Puzzle Tree, click here.

For more information and guidelines for the previous award, please click here.

Please direct any questions to Malon Edwards, Award Administrator, at olderwriters@speculativeliterature.org

That story an Escape Velocity editor found too foul-mouthed for his magazine's tastes a few months ago has finally found a home. Fourth time's a charm, it seems. After being passed over by Nanobison (in a very different version) Escape Velocity and Murky Depths, down in the cellar has decided to pay me to use the f-word over and over again in their June 2008 issue.

Don't tell me persistence doesn't pay off.

And yes, I'm being slightly sarcastic.

At the chance of sounding a bit arrogant, I'm not surprised "Built for the Kill" found publication. Okay, so that's more than a bit arrogant, but it's a well-crafted story. I could almost feel the pieces locking into place when I wrote it. I figured it would just be a matter of time before I found the right publication, which, I will admit, took some searching.

Lately, though, much of the work I've been writing has been dark in tone, so I'm finding markets that publish more horror than science fiction receptive to my submissions, which is fine with me. I'd rather be categorized as a post-cyberpunk writer, but these days genres, sub-genres and markets overlap so finely that a piece of work can have three different labels slapped on it.

And just so you know, "Built for the Kill" is the first arc of a three-arc story in which the third arc has been accepted for publication in the upcoming Our Shadows Soar anthology, and the second arc is currently under consideration at The Future Fire, an online magazine publishing, among other things, dark cyberpunk fiction.

Hopefully, I'll be three-for-three.

The last movie I was thoroughly excited to see was X-Men, released in 2000. It's been ten years since I've anticipated a movie so.

Admittedly, I'm not a movie buff, nor are movies my thing. Books are. However, to know there will be a Hollywood Dune movie not made in the 80's is enough to make my heart palpitate.

No, seriously.

So far, Dune is the best book I've ever read, but then I'm biased. It's science fiction. It's my favorite book. I usually read it two or three times a year, never tiring of it, never finding it stale with each successive reading.

And to know there will be a third version of the movie that could do sandworms and sandworm riding justice--oh my goodness, that's a delicious thought.

And no, I will not be disappointed by the special effects. Anything can be better than Kyle MacLachlan standing against a green screen holding curved tinfoil, or whatever the prop department tried to pass off as riding hooks.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not knocking the 1984 version. And the Sci Fi Channel mini-series--visually--was a pleasant improvement.

Chani?

That scene where the Fedaykin chant Muad'Dib?

Beautiful.

No 299 Tuesday this week. I did a fair amount of fresh fiction writing yesterday. No editing of existing prose, but newly-written fiction. I haven't done that in awhile.

On to this week's 199.

I just finished Charles Stross's Glasshouse and did not enjoy it.

At the online crit group I've yet to post a submission (I know, I know!), I hijacked Carole McDonnell's post somewhat about her glossary-in-development for one of her WiPs. I enjoyed Carole's glossary for Wind Follower and enjoyed what I saw so far of the WiP glossary. However, I did not enjoy Stross's glossary.

Reason: seconds.

Stross starts Glasshouse with a glossary at the front of his book. Nothing wrong with that. My issue was the content of the glossary. It defined the various references to seconds and their equivalents in our world. I was turned off the book before I read the first word of the novel proper.

I just don't understand why Stross opted for seconds to describe all passages of time rather than the conventional measurements, especially since the majority of the novel takes place in the twentieth century.

My personal issue, yes, but I can do that.

I'm the reader.

Yesterday, I had one of the most gratifying experiences when it comes to the submission process--and it came out of a rejection.

Back in January, I submitted a story to the Our Shadows Speak anthology, a collection of dark fiction. Last night, I got this response:

six blocks east of mars:

I'm not accepting this because it'd probably make it harder to publish the novel you could make this into. It'd be very easy to turn the emancipated Chicago, the guilds and 'Bino into a sci-fi thriller. Just throw in a murder mystery or something and you have it made. Your first chapter is pretty much all there.

Send me something else to consider, and let me know when you write the book and sell it... I'll pick up a copy.

L.

I've blogged about this before: I can count the amount of times I've responded to rejection letters and editors on one hand. They're very busy, and the last thing they want is some disgruntled/bad/hopeless writer telling them how stupid/silly/ignorant they are for not accepting their magnificent/wonderful/ground-breaking story. But I felt compelled to respond, as I did last time. This is my response:

Mr. Crisler,

I suppose I should give (and should have given) you a full disclaimer: "The Snatcher" is indeed part of a larger piece, a collection of related short stories telling a linear narrative. Even more so, it's part of a story with a three-part arc, this one being the second, the first recently accepted for publication. It's funny you suggest I throw in a murder mystery--it's already there, and is the body 'Bino Spectre snatches. I had hoped to write "The Snatcher" in a way that makes it stand alone, and on its own. Looks like I've failed.

Thank you for the kind words.

six blocks east of mars

I didn't really expect a response, but I got one:

six blocks east of mars,

I wouldn't consider it a failure at all; I've yet to write a complete work of longer than 5K words myself. 'The Snatcher' was interesting and entertaining on its own, but I'm looking at the bigger picture I see. I'm also looking out for my writers as well as my publication, and there's better things for you to do with 'The Snatcher' than sending it to me. I'd try to get some of that material in front of an agent and land a professional contract.

Got anything else for me, though? I do like your writing.

I didn't think I had anything for him, but decided I could tweak a story a bit and submit it. After all, he did ask, he did say he liked my writing, and the worst that could happen was a rejection. Here's my response and submission:

Mr. Crisler,

I understand that you're doing best for your publication and your contributors, and I believe my most current submission, "The Arrogant Patcher," would fit well with your Our Shadows Speak anthology. It is approximately 2,690 words in length, and I believe you will enjoy it even more than "The Snatcher."

Again, in the interest of full disclosure, "The Arrogant Patcher" is a story arc in the collection of stories I mentioned earlier, but it is also a self-contained story that can and does stand alone.

I would be honored if my story was published in an anthology conceived during an honorable time of your life. I would also be proud to tell others a soldier who did a tour in Afghanistan published a story of mine.


Sincerely,

six blocks east of mars

Putting political leanings and affiliations aside for a moment--I don't know what Lincoln Crisler saw or experienced in Afghanistan that gave him the idea for the anthology--and maybe I don't want to--but I do think it's interesting an editor wants to publish an anthology that came to him during a tour of duty.

Here's his response:

six blocks east of mars,

Yes, yes, this works! Being that it's obviously sci-fi, I'll take it for Our Shadows Soar, not Our Shadows Speak.

Oh, and make sure and tell 'em I've been to Iraq and Korea, too ;-)--L.

Done.

I am quite pleased about this, for a few different reasons. First, Lincoln Crisler seems to be an approachable and amiable editor, and that really hasn't been my experience the short time I've been doing this. Second, "The Arrogant Patcher" is the third and final arc of a story whose first arc will be published by down in the cellar June 1.

It's gratifying to know total strangers think I write well.

It's just as gratifying to know my current writing style works, is effective for my story and characters, and is appreciated.

Inhale long and deep and you just might be able to smell the stagnation of this blog.

So, in an effort scent the place with the wonderful smells of productivity - and actually write - I've decided to roll out another meme - 199 Wednesday.

I can't be more pleased Junot Diaz won the fiction Pulitzer Prize for his first novel, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, but it was Diaz's Drown that greatly influenced my current style of writing.

When I first came across Drown, I didn't know much about my writer-self. I had been an impatient writer then. Naive, as well. Back then, writing was banging out 750 words, sending them off to some literary magazine, and having editors praise me for my intelligence.

Ten years later, I'm still impatient, I'm still naive, and I'm still waiting for editors to praise me.

But I also know that a collection of loosely-related short stories narrated by young boys of color growing up in urban America can be told - and wants to be read.

Back then, I didn't know that. Back then, I needed something -or someone- to help me combat the uncertainty and self-doubt.

Drown.

Diaz.