Archive for Writing Horror
Jack Ketchum And Talking Scars: The Class
Posted by: | CommentsBram Stoker Award-winning author Jack Ketchum will be teaching an online Master Class as part of Chuck Palahniuk’s Cult Writers Workshop. The exclusive 4-week (November 9 – December 7) session will cover several subjects including Writing From the wound, The Abyss that’s Looking Back, “Method Acting” for Horror Writers, Choosing a theme for a horror or suspense story & the versatility of the form, Horror and Suspense as Cautionary Tales, Creating suspense – sentence-level techniques, The bookstore browser test for your opening paragraph, Communicating your deeper meaning through genre fiction, and Important tips for a good writer turning pro. Cost is $395 and the class is limited to 20 students. For more information: Jack Ketchum Master Class
The Road To Hell Is Paved With Form Rejections
Posted by: | CommentsGray Matter
by Robert Gray
You’ve spent months, perhaps years, perfecting your novel. You’ve made countless sacrifices at the expense of yourself and your family, and now you have your masterpiece tucked away on a hard drive, which is in a fire-safe box, under lock and key – now that you’re thinking about it, maybe you should purchase some surveillance equipment too, just as a precaution. Because you know – you just know! – this is going to be The One that changes everything.
You’ve already begun filling your head with thoughts on what you’ll say during your book tour (which is really just practice for all those award acceptance speeches.) You’ve even gone as far as to consider what you’ll wear when you walk the red carpet for the movie premiere – because as far as you’re concerned every movie studio is going to be fighting for this one – and you don’t want to look like a slob standing next to Johnny Depp, who will, of course, be elated at having been given the opportunity to play the lead role.
Then you start the submission process and everything does change, but not the way you expected. You get your first rejection, and you’re positive that idiot couldn’t spot real talent even with the Hubble Space Telescope. Then you receive a few more rejections… no sweat. But you’re a professional, so just to be safe you read through the manuscript again and buff out some minor imperfections to give it that extra high-gloss shine.
You really start to suspect something’s wrong with the next dozen or so rejections, and now you’re tearing into the story like a blind cannibal, revising on the basis of form rejections that say – Thank you [chump] for submitting, but unfortunately this project is not right for me at this time. At around this point jealousy creeps in – You mean to tell me Snooki and Justin Bieber can get book deals, but I can’t!
And finally, after all those doors have been slammed shut, you wonder why you ever wanted to be a writer in the first place and decide your manuscript is nothing more than a steaming pile of crap.
Sound vaguely familiar?
But let’s step back for a moment and look at this process under a different light. From here on out I’m going to focus on agent submissions; however, most of my advice will play nicely with all avenues of publication.
Go to any agency’s website or blog and you’ll often find the number of submissions they receive. On average a small agency may get several thousand submissions a year. Some of the bigger ones can reach those numbers in a far less amount of time. You’re probably thinking with numbers like that your chances of success are slim at best, but the truth is eighty percent of those submissions weren’t ready for prime time, either because of poor query letters or sloppy manuscripts or both.
While no advice is going to provide immediate access into that gated community known as the publishing world, I’d like to offer up a list that will help you at least get into that top-twenty percentile.
1. Complete your manuscript - This would seem obvious, but I can’t tell you how many agents I’ve spoken to who say they often reject a story because of a poorly edited manuscript, be it stupid grammar mistakes, weak imagery or glaring plot holes. Sure, a misplaced comma here and there isn’t going to be a deal breaker, but if you’ve got subject-verb agreement problems, dangling modifiers and crutch words galore, you aren’t going to come across as a professional, or even competent.
2. Don’t submit blindly - Don’t just blast out a hundred submissions to everyone that accepts unsolicited manuscripts. People appreciate personalized letters. Think of all that spam that clogs up your own inbox. Once you see the salutation Dear {email address}, don’t you immediately reject it? It’s the same for agents. Know who you’re submitting to and point out some facts: After reviewing some of your recent sales, including XYZ by Famous Author, I feel this story might fit your current interests.
3. Remember your bio - You might be thinking – I don’t have any publishing credits, so I don’t have to worry about a bio. And you’d be wrong. Sure, the more credits you have the better, but agents want to at least get some sense that you’re passionate about what you do, not to mention they want to see that you’re familiar with the territory covered in your story. But please, oh please, keep the bio brief, and don’t include useless information. While I’m sure you have a wonderful family and your pets are just so darn loveable, they don’t belong anywhere near your query.
4. Don’t compare yourself to someone else - Don’t say, Stephen King is okay, but This Book is going to make everyone forget he exists. For one, that’s not going to happen, and for two, the agent will immediately get the sense that you’re a pompous ass and presume that you will be impossible to work with.
5. Don’t rush - You’ve finally completed The One, and you want to rush it out so the cash can start rolling in. Besides the fact it could take well over a year for your story to see publication – if, that is, you are so fortunate – there’s no need to rush. Carefully construct your query, and then sleep on it. I guarantee you will find problems with it the next morning. If you don’t, sleep on it again. (It wouldn’t be a bad idea to do the same with your manuscript too.)
6. Test the waters - As I’ve already mentioned, you want to make sure everything is perfect before sending your story off into the wild, but even still, rejection has a funny way of changing one’s perception. Try submitting to a couple of agents, no more than five, and see what the response is. If you send out five queries and you get five rejections, even if they’re form rejections, you’ll know something is wrong with the query. If you receive five requests for partials or fulls and then get rejected, you’ll know that your query is okay, but there is something wrong with the manuscript.
7. Follow the submission guidelines - If the request is for a query and the first five, then that’s what you must send. And by first five they mean the first five pages of chapter one. Don’t send off what you believe to be the best five pages.
8. Block out the noise - Don’t concern yourself with what everyone else is doing, which idiot celebrity or politician just got a seven-figure advance. And that other first-time author? The one who just sold his book in a nice deal, even though you know that your book is infinitely better? Don’t worry about him either. Worry about you. Or better said by my grammar school teacher: keep your eyes on your own paper.
9. Don’t get discouraged - You will get rejected, a lot. Be prepared. And remember: it only takes one YES. If it makes you feel better after a particularly harsh rejection, read the first piece you ever submitted. You’ll probably be thanking the publishing Gods those rejecters had the decency to spare you public humiliation. In other words, use rejection as fuel to make the next submission better. Dare those agents to reject you.
10. Keep working - Don’t hover around your inbox, mailbox or phone waiting for a response. It could be many weeks before you hear anything at all. Get started on your next project. You’re a writer, so write.
Ty-ing Up the Genre – September 2010
Posted by: | CommentsTy Schwamberger
Yet Still It Lives by Wrath
James White
For the last twenty years Horror as a genre has been on life-support. It has been declared dead more times than Michael Myers and Jason Vorhees combined. Yet still, it lurches on, leaving a trail of blood and entrails among the bookshelves.
When I began writing horror seriously back in ’99, it had all but disappeared from the major bookstores. It had been replaced by books with labels like “Dark Fiction” and “Thriller” then buried in the bookshelves in a large melting pot called the fiction section where it would have taken a Pawnee scout and a bloodhound to find it. The last thing any new writer with a shred of business acumen wanted to be was a horror author. Yet gore-filled Psychological Thrillers were flying off the shelves and filling movie theaters. They looked indistinguishable from the pulp horror novels and slasher films of the nineteen eighties sans the stigma of the horror label because horror, as I was told, was dead.
Just six years ago a cascade of magazine and e-zine closures began and we lost one short story venue after another. Even that long staple of the horror genre, the horror anthology, was in jeopardy as anthologies were announced, stories were accepted, and then the books never materialized due to lack of funds. Short story collections from individual authors were becoming increasingly rare as publishers shied away from what they decided were risky projects. Once again, the horror genre was declared deceased. Its fetid putrefying carcass was paraded on message board after message board for all to see. And yet, like that quintessential modern horror icon, the zombie, this rotting carcass continued to breathe.
Two years ago, it seemed that one of the last bastions of horror, the small press, had been dealt a fatal blow by the collapse of the economy. Small press publishers emerged and promptly collapsed, leaving a bad taste in the mouths of readers who were stuck with books that arrived months after the announced publication date with bad covers and riddled with typos, if they ever arrived at all. Older established publishers crumbled as collectors could no longer afford forty and fifty dollar hardcovers and one hundred and fifty to three hundred dollar ultra-limited editions. It seemed that horror had finally been laid low. It had been dragged into the sunlight and doused in holy water. Yet still it lived.
Then, in 2010, we saw the sudden and dramatic implosion of one of the most influential horror publishers of the last ten years in Leisure Books. Their announcement that they were abandoning their mass-market format in favor of e-books sent shockwaves through the genre. Leisure may not have paid the best advances to their authors, they may not have had the best response times, and the quality of their covers and copy editing was often no better than a POD publisher, still, they had arguably the best distribution in horror.
The loss of such a major mass-market publisher is once again being mourned as the bullet to the cranium that will finally silence the walking corpse that has been this genre. But horror has taken more killshots than a game of Resident Evil and still continues to rise. I am confident that it will lumber on, dripping body fluids and losing a few body parts but still monstrously alive. If all the publishers were to turn their backs on horror and authors had to start publishing themselves, it would live. If it only existed as a rare limited edition or an e-book, it would live. Because we love its bloodless, decomposing cadaver and we will keep it alive even if we have to let it feed on our own blood. And as long as those of us who love to write horror continue to do so and those of you who love to read it continue to scour the bookshelves for it, it will never die. It will rise with each full moon and snarl and howl for our delight. It will keep us up at night staring in fear at the closed bedroom door, waiting for the doorknob to turn. It will keep us from going into the basement or attic alone past sunset. It will peer through our bedroom window at night, reach from beneath the bed to grab at our ankles and breath heavily on the other end of the phone. It will do what it has always done. It will terrify us. It will amaze us. It will make us laugh and think and cry and cringe, sleep with the lights on, pull the bed sheets over our heads, and, above all else, it will survive, despite the world’s best efforts to kill it.
[Editor's Note]
You can check out Wrath’s work at: Words of Wrath
Ty is an author in the horror genre. To learn more about his work, you can visit his website at: Ty Schwamberger
Ty-ing Up the Genre – Why Do You Wanna Write Horror?
Posted by: | CommentsHosted by Ty Schwamberger
Written by John Everson
Did you ever get this question from a well-meaning but ultimately clueless friend, relative, ignorant passerby: “Why do you wanna write horror? I mean… why not write something good? Maybe a Tom Clancy kinda thing?”
We all have our own personal answers honed for that question, usually elucidated after forcibly restraining ourselves from hauling off and clobbering the narrow-minded nimrod that uttered the uninformed self-absorbed words. Do people ask that of mystery writers? Or sci-fi writers? Do those same nimrods ever ask themselves why they slow down when they see the flashing lights of an ambulance in secret hopes of seeing the body? How can they not understand that horror is not a dirty niche, it’s a universal emotion that we all explore in our own ways? We are all fearful mammals and the literature of horror, regardless of how it’s labeled, helps us deal with our fears. While the “death” of horror has been trumpeted many times, the truth is the literature of horror will never die. Only the labels change.
What the allure of “the dark side” is, I can’t answer for you, you can’t answer for me. And you know what? It doesn’t really matter. There’s a deeper question that you should be asking yourself, today more than ever before.
Why Do You Wanna Write? Period.
Because the game is changing. The e-revolution is upon us and all of the rules are being re-written. As the world of publishing shifts, it’s important for you as a writer to ask yourself, what do you hope to gain by writing?
- Fame? Slavering fans who point you out in the grocery store?
- Riches? You want to actually earn your living writing made-up stories?
- Self fulfillment? You just have to write and don’t care if anyone really reads it?
- Paying it back? You want to give to others all the enjoyment you received from reading?
It’s important to revisit that question with yourself once in awhile, because it should be informing your goals and expectations on the result of your writing. What you hope to gain from writing should be driving your decisions on where to submit and how to publish and what you’re spending your time working on. If you want to write for Penquin, you might not want to be spending a lot of time self-publishing Mutant Redneck Orgy books. Probably not paving the way for a big house career path. On the other hand, if that’s what you really want to write, don’t care if you make a bunch of money from it and don’t care if you have 5 readers or 500…then that’s absolutely what you should do. But you need to go into it with the understanding of the potentials from that path.
Why do you wanna write and what your end goals are should be questions you have answered. We all have different reasons that send us down the path to doing what we do. And sometimes we get caught up in the rush of everything that happens after we start down that path that we forget why we got on it in the first place.
I’m sitting here at the bar at Rock Bottom Brewery in Chicago on a busy Saturday night, and I’m betting the bartender couldn’t tell you why he thought it’d be a good idea to tend here… he’s been making drink after drink after drink for the past half hour and I haven’t seen him slow down long enough for me to ask him if I can get a menu. He might be making good tip money, but his now is probably not what he was envisioning when he applied for the job.
When I started submitting short stories to little magazines almost 20 years ago, my goal wasn’t to be rich and famous. Thank god, because I’m not and if that was the goal, I have more or less wasted the last two decades.
My goal was mostly the paying it back bit. I wanted to give back the same kind of enjoyment from fiction that I’d gotten as a kid. And I’m sure there was a bit of a thirst for minor fame and glory. But I never really expected to pull a lot of money from the deal.
Again… thank god for that cuz it ain’t happened!
But I’ve seen a lot of authors over the years get bitter and angry when, after moving steadily upward from market to market, they didn’t get the riches to follow.
Just a hunch here… but I’m guessing that “riches” wasn’t their original prime motivator when they first sent their naked zombie apocalyptic orgy story to Eat Flesh Magazine back in 1995 and accepted a copy of the side-stapled publication in payment.
They stopped asking Why Do You Wanna? until their internal goals for writing had shifted to become substantially different than what the path they were on could realistically fulfill. And then they found themselves disappointed.
None of this is to say that ultimately expecting to make money in this business is wrong. But there’s a different set of career goals and decisions to make if a full-time job is what you want out of writing than simply a little ego-boost and pocket cash. Goals change over time and that’s again why you need to stop occasionally and say to yourself now:
Why Do You Wanna?
Lots of people make a good full-time living at writing. I should know — I started my adult career as a journalist. The key in the “I live by my writing” career choice is a) you’re a hired gun that writes whatever will pay the bills and b) a corollary – you write on whatever topic you can.
As horror writers, we write on the topic we love. News for you: you can’t always make a living at doing what you love. Of course – we all define “make a living” differently too. I know full-time writers who make a good living at writing horror-oriented things and I know full-time writers who say they make a living at writing – but it’s not a level of economic success that I would personally call “success” – or a living. Yeah, some people break their backs at it and manage to feed themselves… at least for a few years. But it’s often not sustainable, in large part because of too narrow of a focus. Open yourself to writing in multiple genres, including non-fiction, and you’re probably going to succeed a lot better as a professional writer. That’s far more likely than succeeding as a full-time professional horror writer. Just know this — as a “pro writer”, you won’t always write what you love to write. There’s a different mindset involved there. Ask me about covering school boards for the suburban newspaper some time.
I decided a long time ago that my goal in fiction was to write the kind of creepy stories I loved and that I wanted to read. I wanted to entertain, regardless of pay or market. And then I published books. I got excited to reach a larger audience with my stories. And I wanted to reach an even larger one. For awhile… the path “upward” seemed certain.
And then last week, the bottom fell out. When my publisher Leisure Books announced that they were dropping their mass market horror publishing and would be focusing more and more on e-books and less and less in print, I found myself faced with a critical question: do I personally want to be an author of e-books?
My instinctive answer was a spittle-heavy cough of “Not on your dead, mutilated, demon-infested corpse.”
Yes, I know, Leisure will be producing a line of trade paperbacks to hopefully regain some bookstore shelf space and my books should appear in that format, but the writing is on the wall. More and more publishers will be moving out of traditional print in favor of e-books. There’s no overhead there (or very little) and a lot of potential profit. I personally don’t mind e-books as an ancillary method of fiction delivery, but I don’t see myself ever buying one. In my heart and mind, they are not “books”. They’re unproduced manuscripts floating around on the Internet without the engaging smell of ink and the tactile sense of paper. Without the yellowing factor of time and without the sense of space and permanency. E-books are the digital idea of a book that has yet to be printed.
Won’t do it, I said.
Might have to just quit writing entirely.
No.
And then I asked myself again. “Why Do You Wanna Write Horror? Why Do You Wanna Write Anything?”
“To entertain an audience,” I answered quickly. “To give people the same enjoyment I got from reading fiction when I was a kid and…”
Gotcha.
Who’s full of shit now? If today’s readers are getting the enjoyment out of and being entertained by e-books than why do I care if they’re e- instead of p-?
Because I like seeing my name on a spine. Because I like having my work physically on a shelf. That’s probably the deepest held motivation of a lot of writers, no matter what motivation they suggest publicly. So yeah. I hadn’t asked myself and explored “Why Do You Wanna?” for real in awhile.
Because I want to produce books that people enjoy that sit on a shelf and are permanent.
That’s a little different answer stemming from a little different place than “I just want to entertain.”
Yeah. So maybe my goals weren’t quite as pure as I thought. If I was in this simply to get paid, I wouldn’t care about the format of my resulting work, just the cash. If I was in this simply to entertain, I wouldn’t care about the format, just the reviews and reader comments.
Why Do You Wanna Write Horror?
If it’s to make a living, you’d better consider topic diversification if you hope to pay for health insurance.
If it’s to make a movie, perhaps consider a career in effects and makeup — it’s a lot easier to backdoor your way into a script from there than it is to sell one to Hollywood from writer-land cold. Hollywood sees horror films as effects gardens, not great scripts that should be made.
If it’s to see your name on a book spine that more than a couple hundred people buy, well, all I can say is go look at the horror section in Barnes & Noble’s. What? There isn’t one? There you go.
If it’s really to entertain readers, regardless of format, you’ve got some good years ahead of you. The whole game is changing, and that means there are going to be a lot of new avenues that we can’t even predict right now. I hope you’re as selfless about your desire to “entertain” as you think you are. And that you like e-books and intend to spend countless hours promoting them so that people can find your work amid the sea of other e-releases. It is possible to succeed in that market – look at the Amazon ebook bestseller list and you’ll see some relative unknowns from indie houses or simply self-published work sprinkled amid the predictable big names.
The e-book discussion is a book of columns by itself, but it’s a reality to factor into Why Do You Wanna. The problem I see with e-books in the long-term, aside from their lack of physicality (which I’ve learned IS a factor in my personal reasons for Why Do You Wanna), is that they completely level the playing field of publishing. Some might see that as a good thing, but I don’t think so. As the floodgates open and anybody can upload anything to the “store” and slap a price tag on it, the editorial review process that has heretofore culled and chosen books to publish and promote and bring exposure to from amid a muddy sea of half-baked slush piles will be washed away. It will become harder and harder for new authors to make a ripple and be seen amid the ocean of uploaded narratives.
With the digital age, we gain increased freedom of publication, but it also waters down the marketplace such that it will become harder and harder to prove your abilities and actually make a living at writing because the choices for readers of what to buy and read become exponentially vast. Instead of 1,000 people buying Book X, maybe only 100 will, because the other 900 potential buyers were presented with so many choices, they didn’t see or decided not to spend the time on Book X. Instead of having editors read the slush piles and decide upon a slate of books that will be promoted for potential purchase (still a vast slate, but finite and with some quality control), the entire world will become a digital slush pile. Perhaps major publishers will continue to be looked to and trusted for their lines of books but in reality, they become less relevant in the marketplace. Does the average reader now really pick up a book and decide whether to buy it based on the logo on the spine? I don’t think so. The reader chooses based on the cover and the interesting back cover description. But their choice in finding a good story was made a little easier by having a publishing system in place, because only a small percentage of the manuscripts churned out by hopeful authors that year ever got a chance to be seen by a reader browsing in a bookstore.
I’ve always been a believer in the editorial process, even when it didn’t go my way. I’ve always been a believer in having my own personal library of books in a room that I can go into and sit and enjoy being surrounded by the tomes of my past, sitting in shelves on the walls. An e-reader doesn’t quite give you that same feeling.
Why Do You Wanna?
Think for a minute before you answer.
I’m still thinking this week myself.
Credits
You can check out John’s work at: John Everson
Ty is an author in the horror genre. To learn more about his work, you can visit his website at: Ty Schwamberger
Gray Matter – The Five Narrative Modes of Fiction
Posted by: | Commentsby Robert Gray
Anyone can tell a story. Heck, every conversation you’ve ever had in your life probably contained a story on some level. So why is it so hard to write one? For one, most of those conversations wouldn’t make very good stories, at least not the ones I’ve had. And two, writing a story requires structure, and it’s your job as a writer to understand that structure so intimately that it becomes as natural as, well, a conversation.
The Five Narrative Modes
Every novel or story consists of five parts, narrative modes if you prefer the term. They are dialogue, thought, action, description and exposition. I like to think of these parts as storage bins, with dialogue, thought and action being the largest bins, and description and exposition being the smallest. Every tool you use to write – all that figurative stuff, all those thematic elements – goes into these bins, and the stronger your bins are, that is, the better you understand them, the more weight they can hold.
Dialogue and Thought
Dialogue and thought serve three purposes: first, they reveal something about the character. Second, they build tension. Third, they help advance the story. The difference between the two is that dialogue is spoken aloud, while thought is internal monologue. Often, the two can play off each other to create interesting effects.
For instance, in a conversation between John and girlfriend Marie, John might say—
“I can’t wait to see you at dinner.”
So I can rip the tongue out of that pretty little mouth of yours, he thought.
Action
Action is that big-block V8 engine under the hood of your story. This is not to say that every scene need be explosive, but action is the driving force of your narrative, used not only to advance the story, but also to reveal information about your characters.
For example, John reached underneath his car seat and felt around for the butcher knife. It was still there, ready and waiting.
John is doing something, however minor, and we learn a little about his motives while moving the story forward.
Description
Description is all those deep sensory images you want your reader to experience. At its best, it should invoke an emotional response by setting the mood of your story. One of the cardinal rules when working with description is not to over describe. Easier said then done, I know, but always remember that your story comes first, and if your description is not serving the story, then it’s got to go.
Let’s check back with our pal Johnny, who has his heart set on murdering Marie after dinner. To create the proper mood you might describe the scene at the restaurant something like:
He was assaulted by the smells of burnt onions and body odor as he entered. The place was bursting with people wanting to “feel like family,” as the slogan on TV suggests, and the floor was sticky with spilled drinks from the children scurrying around like an infestation, waiting to be pressed into the ground by a careless foot.
Not something I would open my wallet for, but you can see the description is brief and there is a definite mood created here, one that is obviously not happy.
Exposition
Exposition is the most dangerous of the narrative modes. It refers to the details the narrator gives about a character. This can be sometimes a flashback or flashforward, or just a piece of background information or commentary. The problem with exposition is that readers like to draw their own conclusions about the characters, and exposition, because of its very nature, forces you to tell instead of show. A good rule is to limit exposition to incidental information, like a character’s age, or the fact that the character prefers apples to oranges, or, in good ol’ Johnny’s case …
To dash out this bitch’s brains while the family next to him stuffed yet another bowl of the free salad and bread into their faces. Now that would make him smile.
So now that you have your storage bins ready, go forth and fill them up with whatever you want. Me? Looks like I’ll be busy filling mine up with poor Marie’s body parts.
Ty-ing Up the Genre – The Scariest Thing Imaginable
Posted by: | CommentsTy Schwamberger
The Scariest Thing Imaginable: Rejection
by Jeff Strand
To many authors, the idea of getting a rejection letter is even more frightening than being haunted by a ghost or attacked by a chainsaw-wielding psychopath. It’s freakin’ terrifying! After putting all of that time, blood, sweat, and passion into your creation, you’re about to send it to an editor who may respond to all of your hard work with a form letter saying “Nah.”
Or, worse, he or she may tell you that it’s terrible, that it can’t be salvaged, and that it never should have been written in the first place if any decency still exists in the world. The editor might laugh at your submission and pass it around the office, and hurriedly warn other editors not to publish your writing because you suck. Your photograph will be stuck on the corners of monitors of editors everywhere, with a big red X over it. Career = over.
Okay, most writers aren’t that paranoid, but in speaking to a lot of aspiring authors, I’ve been surprised at how many of them don’t submit their work simply because they don’t want to face possible rejection. If they don’t send it, nobody can tell them no. No sting of the form letter. No humiliation from the checked boxes indicating that your story Lacks Strong Character Development and Does Not Resolve In A Satisfactory Manner. No handwritten snarky comments at the bottom. Not sending out your work keeps you nice and safe.
Authors should not fear rejection.
Which is not to say that you should take the opposite approach, which is to e-mail your work to every editor you can find, regardless of whether the story has any possible connection to what the publisher needs. (In my single, ill-fated attempt to edit an anthology, within minutes my in-box was flooded with completely inappropriate submissions from authors who were clearly ready to fire off those trunk stories at any market that popped up.) This type of carpet bombing approach is known by industry insiders by the technical term “lazy and stupid.” So don’t do that.
Obviously, if it’s a bad story, and you know it’s a bad story, don’t send it out. The fear of rejection usually comes at the point where you think you’re writing publishable work (maybe you are and maybe you aren’t), but you’re not sure that anybody beyond your family, friends, and the too-nice people in your critique group will agree. Maybe you’ve dreamed of seeing your name in the pages of Cemetery Dance magazine, and you truly believe that this story just may be good enough, it’s the best thing you’ve ever written… but what if they say no?
What if you get rejected hundreds of times before somebody accepts your work? What if you run out of room in your house to use them as wallpaper? How could you possibly work up the energy to write another story if so many people have told you “NO!” on your others? How can you live through the shame?
Here’s the key:
Once you get that acceptance, none of your rejections count anymore! Seriously! When you’re doing an interview and you’re talking about your deal with Random House, nobody is going to say “Yeah, well, I heard that your manuscript didn’t meet Bantam’s present needs!” Think about which of the following people you have less desire to punch in the face:
Author #1. “I racked up hundreds of rejections over years of hard work, but I refused to give up, and then one day I finally got that acceptance letter and my scream of joy was so loud that the neighbors called the police.”
Author #2. “I finished my first novel, and it was accepted by the very first agent who read the query, and within two days we had a book deal.”
For successful authors, their previous rejections are practically a badge of honor. J.K Rowling’s first Harry Potter book was rejected by a dozen publishers, and you don’t hear her shouting “Don’t tell anybody about that! I’ll be shamed!”
If you believe in your work, send it out. It will get rejected. That’s fine. Cry a bit, kick an non-valuable inanimate object, consider the feedback if any was provided, give it another read, and send it out again. Because trust me, when you get that “Yes! We want it!” e-mail, the pain of all of those other rejections vanishes.
Save your fear for other things, like the looming zombie apocalypse.
You can check out Jeff’s work on his Gleefully Macabre website: Jeff Strand
Ty is an author in the horror genre. To learn more about his work, visit: Ty Schwamberger












