A Week That Was.

I've written before about how the writing game is a bit like fishing. You throw in a few lines and see who takes the bait. If no-one does, you cast again and wait. A lot of waiting.

No nibbles this week, although one of the fish I'd already landed gave a wriggle in the bucket. The contract arrived for a story I sold a few months ago. Signed and returned.  Does a writer ever get tired of making a sale, signing a contract or receiving copies of a book with their story inside?

I don't think I will.

My computer is finally dying.  The old beast has served me well these past 5 or 6 years, but is starting to fail. USBs keep dropping out and screens keep locking. Even though, it's surprisingly quiet for an old thing. But a new machine arrives today and so I've backed everything up ready for transferring to the new one. Ah, technology. I'm so 21st Century.

Speaking of 21st Century and technology, I'm really enjoying Instagram. I'm starting to build some followers, and regularly hit 35-50 likes on my photos. Feel free to follow me. I'm nihilon.

At home it's been a strange old week. I've been off work for a couple of days with a throat thing. Lots of rest, warmth, lemon drinks and Game of Thrones to watch. I also watched The Phantom Menace, which I hadn't seen since it was first released. It wasn't as terrible as I remembered it, although I can see why it was panned at the time. OK, so a lot of world-building and history-setting at the cost of narrative, but I must admit to having enjoyed large sections of it purely as escapism. At least, a lot more than I thought I would.

On a nostalgic note, I walked past a bakery yesterday and was hit with the smell of warm yeast. It took me back to when I was a primary school kid and we went on an excursion to Harrison's Bakery. I think it was on Canterbury Road in Vermont, and I loved every minute of it. They showed us how they made bread, and even let as shape one each. I hope they didn't sell those ones.

And that smell? It reminded me of the importance of including all the senses in writing, as they trigger recognition with readers.

And no, even though I was tempted I didn't rush in and buy any bread.

Vale: Harry Harrison.

Harry Harrison has passed after a long illness.

Shortly after I discovered science fiction, a friend introduced me to the Stainless Steel Rat series and I devoured every one of them. Later, I read Make Room, Make Room (which became Soylent Green), A Rebel In Time, and A Transatlantic Tunnel, Hurrah! amongst a host of others.

Another Grand Master of science fiction has gone.

RIP Harry. I wish I could have met you.

Hopes And Dreams And Goals And Aspirations.

In my 'other' life, I'm a High School English teacher. In addition to this I've recently qualified and taken on the role of Careers' Counsellor as well.

And so I've just spent the past few months counselling hundreds of teenagers regarding their future careers and course selections for next year.

Interesting, to say the least.

I love working with students about their hopes, dreams and ambitions. And I'm constantly amazed at some of the futures these students aspire to. Some, of course, are obvious. Some are complete surprises. And then there are those that I suspect are probably unattainable.

How do you gently suggest to a student that reaching their goal is impossible without crushing their spirit and aspirations? Simple. You don't.

You encourage them to reach that goal, while pointing out the practicalities and difficulties, and advise them to have back-up plans. As you do with every student. You never know, they might make it.

I've been heartened by the number of students who want to go into creative areas: photography, sculpture, painting film-making and, happily, writing. And of course these are some of the career paths where success can be quite limited. A back-up plan is vital.

A couple of these kids have been aware that I write and asked me about my experiences. It's been kind of humbling that a few have even read one of my stories.

Who knows? Among this group of teenagers with dreams and hopes and wishes and aspirations, there might be another Stephen King. I look forward to that.

Writer. Reader. Rider.

A few years ago, when I first started writing, I signed up for a Sean Williams' workshop. At the time I had no idea who he was. In fact, for some reason I thought he'd be an American.

I loved that weekend. I learned a great deal about the Spec Fic community, about writing and publishing opportunities, and came home enthused and energised. I also met a number of people - including a few with whom I've remained in regular contact.

The group read the submitted piece from a lady who sat on the opposite side of the room from me, and I really enjoyed it. It had a beautiful lyrical quality to the writing, a wonderful sense of measured pace and decadence in the created world that reminded me of one of Moorcock's Eternal Champion stories. I don't know if she ever finished that story - I'm still hoping to see the final product.

We chatted later - her name was Gitte Christensen - and over the years we've bumped into each other at conventions and the like, and stayed in touch.

Gitte is a quiet achiever. She's dedicated and focused, and a terrific writer to boot, and yet there are other writers with lesser bibliographies that I hear mentioned more frequently. Gitte has the credentials and continues to publish quality fiction. She's seen publication in Aurealis, Andromeda Spaceways, The Tangled Bank and Dark Tales of Lost Civilizations amongst a host of anthologies and other magazines. She's been a semi-finalist in Writers of The Future, and had a story included in the inaugural  The Year's Best Australian Fantasy and Horror collection from Ticonderoga. She was interviewed for Snapshot 2012, and maintains a fantastic blog. She has received terrific reviews for her work - for example, here, and here.

She's a writer I respect and admire. And beyond that, Gitte's just a friendly, humble writer. Keep an eye out for her and get to know her work.

Don't be one of those who asks "Gitte who?" 

Aspiring?

Adj. 1. aspiring - desiring or striving for recognition or advancement.

I once told someone I was an aspiring writer. That person told me I was either writing or not. If I was, then I was a writer. Nothing aspiring about it.

Adj. 1. emerging - coming into view, existence, or notice: developing.

Another time I  told someone I was emerging. That person told me they didn't like that term. I was either a writer or I wasn't.

After those conversations I stopped using those descriptors and referred to myself simply as a writer. I understood what they were saying, but by the dictionary definitions as given above I am both aspiring and emerging. I am developing as a writer, and coming to notice.  I'm certainly striving for recognition and advancement.

I see myself on a low rung on a very high ladder. Do I need an adjective? Early? Beginning? Emerging? Aspiring? 

It doesn't matter. First and foremost, I am a writer.

Gentle Truth.

I recently read a blogpost in which an author had received a form rejection for a submitted story.

The author then stated that he could see why the story had been rejected - it was because he had opened the piece with dialogue rather than description.

While this may be the case, I believe it is extremely unlikely the story was rejected outright simply for this one particular reason. If that was the only problem with the story, wouldn't he have received either a personal rejection or a rewrite request?

Too many writers won't accept their writing is not perfect. Too much time is spent by writers patting each other on the back and telling each other that simply because a piece was rejected, there's nothing wrong with it. Time and time again I see and hear newer writers stating that "it's only one editor's taste" or "it was the wrong market for that piece." And yes, taste and matching markets do come into it. But once the same story has been kicked back a number of times, surely you have to question it. Yes, I know Robert J. Sawyer had a story kicked back 17 times before it was accepted, and it went on to win an Aurora award. J.K Rowling's first book was rejected a dozen times before it was picked up and became a phenomenon. But these are exceptions - and rare ones at that.

Guess what. Some people can't write. Some people will never improve. Most writers can't see the faults in their own work. Some stories are crap. Some stories need rewriting. And some stories should be permanently trunked.

I'm all for encouraging writers. By all means, keep subbing the piece to different markets. But when it's come back a few times, at least wonder why.

Encouragement needs to be balanced by gentle truth.

It's All White Noise To Me.

It's no secret that I have made a conscious decision not to self-publish. And I've also made it very clear that others may do as they choose. There is no one path for writers, no single road that leads to success. I know this is something I've posted about before, but this subject reared its head again in a discussion earlier this week.

I'm not against self-publishing per se. But I do think it's far too easy nowadays.

From time to time, writers ask me to read their self-published work. Even to pay for it. Then they tell me they made their story available because it had been rejected everywhere.

Hmmm, so you want me to pay for a multi-rejected story. A story that is probably flawed and lacking. Let's see, for a couple of dollars more I can buy a pro-mag that has up to ten stories by pro-writers that have been selected and polished by a pro-editor.

That's not to say there isn't some great self-published work out there. There are some very capable writers who self-publish older work, or upload stories as a promotional tool. And even unknown writers who release the occasional gem, but these are exceptions and rarities.

But there's loads of sub-standard work out there, too much white noise. I choose not to add to it until I have reached a self-imposed standard.

And I already have far too many books to read without downloading more from amid the static.