Doomsday Giveaway

First off, this post has nothing to do with the no doubt godawful John Cusack film coming out this week. No, this is about the latest issue of Space and Time magazine, number 109, which features my story "End of Our World as We Know It."

This is a special story for me, namely because it's written in the second person. I love second person narratives ... at least when they're done right. One of my favorite novels is written in the second person (A Prayer for the Dying by Stewart O'Nan). For some reason second person is frowned upon in many circles, and I've never understood why. It's just as good and effective as the first and third person, sometimes even more so. I think the main problem is people are told -- or maybe assume -- that when you are reading something in second person, it's supposed to be you doing whatever is written there.

This I cannot disagree with more.

Sure, some second person narratives are set up like that, but many others -- the very best -- are just another way of telling a story about a character.

Such as:

John woke up that morning with the worst hangover he'd had since he graduated college. He sat up, yawned, looked around. Froze. He didn't recognize this room.

Or how about:

I woke up that morning with the worst hangover I'd had since I graduated college. I sat up, yawned, looked around. Froze. I didn't recognize this room. Or the woman lying next to me.

Or finally:

You wake up that morning with the worst hangover you've had since you graduated college. You sit up, yawn, look around. Freeze. You don't recognize this room. Or the woman lying next to you. Or the blood dried around her neck.

(Note that when writing in the second person, it almost seems mandatory to do it in the present tense. Can it be written in the past? Sure. But I think keeping it in the present tense maintains a nice smooth flow that makes the story more effective in the end.)

Of course, a story can be written in any point of view. Yet an author usually knows which POV is best ... and if it's wrong, they can usually tell after they've started writing (it just doesn't feel right) and play around accordingly. I know there have been times when I'll start a story in, say, third person, then realize it would be best in first person, or vice versa.

"End of Our World as We Know It"? I first wrote it in third person. Liked it but didn't love it. Changed the POV to first person. Felt the same way. Changed it then to second person, and bang, like that, it felt right.

Of course, not everyone would agree. Here's what one editor at a pro magazine had to say in his rejection:

This piece started out so good. So interesting! And then along came the second person perspective.

NOOOOOOOOOOO!

I like the story. I really do. But I despise--I mean really DESPISED--the use of second person perspective in this piece.

See, second person isn't for everyone. Again, I think it's just gets a bad rap, mostly because it's so obscure that when readers actually do see it, they don't know what to think.

So my thanks to Gerard Houarner and Hildy Silverman for liking this story enough to take a chance on it.

Okay, enough of that. On to the mini-contest ...

To view the complete table of contents of this issue, click here. To purchase a copy (or better yet, a subscription), click here. Or did you want the chance to win a free signed copy? Sure you did. All you need to do is name your favorite doomsday film or book in the comments section of this post (if you're viewing this on Facebook, please leave your comments on the main site). That's it. The deadline is Friday, midnight here on the east coast, when a winner will be randomly selected.

But wait -- there's more!

Because I'm so pleased to have published this story, for every five people who participate I'll throw it another copy of the magazine.

Have fun.

NaNoWriMo Should Be NaNoWriYear

(This is an oldie but goodie from the old blog published November 1, 2008. Additional comments appear at the end. Feel free to leave your own.)

Today marks the first day for the tenth annual NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) and I want to wish everyone participating in it this year the best of luck.

I’ve never taken part in the program, but I did manage to write a 90k novel in three weeks – this was a few years back, in either September or October. And do you know what? It burned me out. I couldn’t write afterward for weeks. On the flipside though, it was that novel that helped me score my first agent, and while a publisher never picked it up, it got pretty good feedback from editors.

Still, looking back, that novel could have used more work …

Which brings me to yesterday’s post over at Genreville regarding the program. It’s worth taking a look.

Here’s my two cents: NaNoWriMo can be beneficial for those writers needing the excuse to sit themselves down in front of the computer and write. Because let’s face it, writing ain’t easy. We always make excuses not to do it – and with the Internet, checking e-mail and friends’ blogs and whatever else, time flies and then we realize there isn’t much time left to write so we put it off to the next day, and the next, and the next. But being with a program, with other writers helping to keep us in check, yeah, there’s definitely motivation there and less chance of falling behind.

However, I do agree with the Genreville post that the program might not be for everyone. After all, what’s more important – quality or quantity? We want to write well, make sure the words ring true, but it’s difficult (sometimes impossible) if there’s such a quick deadline. (Then again, nobody says that the 50k words you write has to be your final draft … or at least I don’t think so; I’ve never reviewed the official rules.)

I see NaNoWriMo kind of like making a New Year’s Resolution. Every year everyone promises themselves they will do this or not do that, but how long do they really keep it up? A few days, a few weeks, then that’s it. They say, well, I’ll try it again next year.

My question is: Why not renew your New Year’s Resolution EVERY DAY?

Just like: Why not work on a novel EVERY DAY?

Even if you commit yourself to writing 500 words a day (and really, what is that, an hour of work?), then you’ll end up with over 180,000 words. That’s basically two good-sized novels.

(Keep in mind, I’ve gotten past that whole writing-a-book-for-fun thing long ago; if you’re looking to make a career, write something that sells, you need to do what’s not just best for you, but for the novel itself.)

So whether or not you’re participating in NaNoWriMo (and if you are, more power to you), you need to ask yourself what’s more important in the end: quality or quantity. And then you have to ask yourself how you get to the one or the other. And then you have to do it. Whichever path you choose, good luck.

***

Okay, now a year later do I still agree with that? Yes. Obviously no first draft is perfect, and any writer who believes that is an idiot. But that's not the purpose of NaNoWriMo. The purpose is to get that first draft. But again, you have to put the book first, not the page count. Meaning, write as much as you can, but don't put too much emphasis on the word count. After all, it's not the word count that is ultimately the goal here. It's the novel itself. But you know what? I think I'm probably preaching to the choir. Can I get an amen?

Writer-Readers Vs. Reader-Readers

As Dan Brown's waaaaay overdue rip-snorter hits stores today, I thought it would be as good a time as any to talk about the different kind of readers there are in the world. Obviously there are a lot of different kind of readers in the world, but for our purposes here let's just separate them into two categories: writer-readers and reader-readers.

First let me tell you a story about a sixteen-year-old boy who had his very first short story accepted. As you can imagine, he was thrilled. Every time he went to the bookstore, he looked in the magazine section for the particular magazine that had accepted his story. When he visited family in New York, he checked out those bookstores too, looking for that particular magazine. He was so optimistic and naive to think that this magazine that had just accepted his story would be the kind of magazine that was available in just about every bookstore across the country.

Does this story have a happy ending?

Well, that depends on your point of view. What happened was the particular magazine eventually folded, as many particular magazines do. Later though this boy learned that wasn't such a terrible thing, as the particular magazine in question was the kind put together on a desktop computer, printed out, folded, side-stapled, and then forced to be called a magazine with very little readership (like a dozen people).

Not that there's necessarily anything wrong with that, of course. We all can't have our first acceptances be to The New Yorker.

But was that boy upset? Yes and no. He understood how things went. But he also thought it was a shame. Because had that story been published, a lot of people were going see his story in print!

For those of you playing catch up, that young boy was me. Now here I am, almost 28, growing more and more cynical by the minute. I want to believe in a world where, if I publish a story, a lot of people will read it, and if they don't, they will at least know of its existence.

Unfortunately, that's not the case.

The majority of people that read my work are -- surprise, surprise -- other writers. Is there anything wrong with that? Of course not. But I think sometimes as writers, especially starting out, we fool ourselves into thinking that once we publish a story or poem or book, everyone is going to know about it and read it and love it.

Stop a random person on the street and ask them if they know who Dan Brown is. Most likely, they're going to tell you yes. The same with Stephen King, James Patterson, Nora Roberts, etc.

Then ask if they know who T.C. Boyle is, or E.L. Doctorow, or Joyce Carol Oates, or Stewart O'Nan. Some might say, yeah, sure, sounds familiar, but they might be hard-pressed to give you specific titles.

These, ladies and gentlemen, are your reader-readers.

If it wasn't for Revolutionary Road being made into a movie, hardly anybody would know the name Richard Yates anymore. But reader-readers are now familiar with the name, just as writer-readers have been familiar with the name for years.

What's my point here? Well, I'm not really sure. But I think it's important for writers to at least acknowledge there are different types of readers.

Right now I'm working on a new novel. It's very commercial, a straight-up thriller, and there are times when I find myself agonizing over a certain scene or even sentence, wanting to get the writing just right. Then I remember that with a thriller, the writing isn't so much important as is the pace and plot. Not that I shouldn't make sure the writing is as best it can be, but go to any bookstore, page through a half dozen thrillers, what are you most likely going to see? The writing will no doubt be good if not at least decent, but I highly doubt it will be the quality of writing you'd get from reading, say, Middlesex.

Ultimately as writers we are writing for ourselves. We have stories inside that we want -- need -- to get out. But we'd be lying to ourselves if we said we didn't care what other people thought. That's why we submit our work, after all, because we want to be accepted, want to be read.

That's why I think the short story is the purest form of storytelling. It has a specific purpose, which is simply to be told. Unlike writing a book, where you have to take into account your readership (again, the reader-reader aspect: who will this book appeal to?), where marketing and accounting departments have just as much at stake as the editor, a story is what it is. It doesn't worry about its readership. It just worries about being told, and being told well. Don't get me wrong, books can be beautiful things as well (I've read my fair share), but a story ... it's a different kind of animal.

Anyway, getting back to the whole writer-reader vs. reader-reader thing, writer-readers are the ones most apt to read short stories, both online and in print. Why? Because most often the people reading those online and print magazines are writers who want to place their work there. Not many reader-readers care about a little zine that's printed on someone's computer and only has 20 copies. That's not to say that little zine doesn't have value, of course (see how I'm trying to cover my ass here with every point?), but in terms of your average, every day reader who has already gotten themselves Dan Brown's latest, that little zine doesn't even come close to their radar (as neither does The Paris Review or Glimmer Train).

It's kind of depressing, when you think about it. That all our hard work and energy gets put into these stories, and then we submit those stories, and then, luckily, those stories get accepted and then published ... and only a handful of people actually read them.

It's better to remain naive, I think, to believe that everyone is going to see our work than to accept the fact that, well, pretty much nobody will.

But that shouldn't matter. Because we're writers, and we write because we have no choice. It's simply in our nature to write. The being accepted, seeing our work in print or online, that's great. And if people (reader-readers) come across our work and actually read it? Well, that's nice too.

P.S. As an aside, there is actually a third type of reader: the non-reader. Like this douche bag who is "a proud non-reader of books":

Anthology Update & What Is A Professional Writer?

Thanks all for leaving comments and e-mailing me about Augusto Monterroso's estate. I'm happy to say I've gotten in contact with them and it's looking like there's a very good chance I'll be able to include his story in the anthology. Tuesday night I did a read-through of the stories in the maybe pile. Out of the 276 stories, I check marked 149. What does this mean exactly? Well, those 149 stories were what stuck out to me at that moment. Because these stories are so short and rely so much on my participation as a reader (i.e., a lot of imagination), my mood at the time (even the weather) can sway my opinion on any particular story. So I'm setting those stories aside and next week will read through the 276 stories again. I know the suspense is killing some of you, and I apologize for that, but I hope you understand the amount of time and thought I need to put into these stories. If this were a magazine with multiple issues, I probably could have made my decisions by now and sent out responses. But obviously in terms of this anthology -- most likely a once and done thing -- I have to be extremely selective.

Finally, I am curious to know what you think makes a professional writer. A couple posts back in the comments section there had been a mention of novice and professional writers, and I had said for argument sake let's assume a professional writer is someone who makes their living completely off their writing, with no other source of income. Daniel Olivas then mentioned how he didn't quite agree with that statement, saying he doesn't think many "professional" writers write full-time.

He's right, of course. As Joe Konrath once put it, more people play in the NFL than there are people who write full-time.

No two writers are alike. Michael Connelly published four novels before he quit working as a crime reporter and went to write full-time. T.C. Boyle regularly publishes stories in The New Yorker and Playboy and has a book coming out almost every year, many bestsellers, but still he teaches writing at the University of Southern California where he's been since 1978. My buddy Joe Schreiber, who has two novels coming out next month (one a Star Wars novel, another an original horror novel), works full-time as an MRI tech. He's married, has kids, but still manages to find time to write. When I asked him once if he ever thought he'd get to a point where he could write full-time, he said he'd be happy to get to a point where he could cut back to part-time work and spend the rest writing.

Again, no two writers are alike, but despite all those differences, I consider all three of those gentlemen professional writers.

There is no definitive answer on this topic. Just like everyone has their own definition of what lazy means, everyone has their own definition of what professional means. I will say that I think many people base whether or not someone is a "professional" in terms of success. If a writer has a bestseller or wins a lot of awards, they can easily be considered a professional writer (even if that writer still has a day job). Then there are other writers who aren't very well known, who have never won an award, yet they somehow manage to make enough money to stay afloat writing full-time. Would they, then, be considered a professional writer?

This is why I'm curious to see what other people think. And this doesn't even have to apply to writers. Like, what makes a professional musician? Somebody who's signed by a major record label and whose songs are played nonstop on the radio? They make their living off their art, sure, but so do some people in cover bands that play local bars. Not a lot of people, but a few, and if both types make their living off their music ... well, I'm sure you see just how slippery this slope really is.

It's also worth noting that there are "professional writers" who are arrogant assholes that act very unprofessional most of the time. Yet they continue to be successful in the amount of books they sell, the awards they win, etc.

And then you have the novice writer who has been trying to sell a novel for years and hasn't managed it yet, and despite how frustrating it is, how it looks like it will never happen, they manage to maintain a level of professionalism in every aspect of their writing.

I could keep throwing out examples but I think I'll open it up to you. Again, there's no right or wrong answer, but still I'm curious to see what you have to say.

To Self-Publish Or Not To Self-Publish

Isn’t it funny how the times change? Years ago someone would be crucified for suggesting writers self-publish their work. And those that actually self-published their own work, well, they were looked down upon as jokes. Nowadays though, with publishing being where it is in the barrel, self-publishing has become tolerated, if not almost accepted in some circles. Keep in mind when I say “self-publishing” I refer to those print-on-demand places that don’t charge an upfront fee but will publish the book for you and then give you a little (should I say tiny?) royalty based on how much the retail is set at.

As so many more publishers are going the POD route, what difference does it make if a writer is published by one of those or they decide to self-publish their own stuff?

Theoretically, the final product would be the same, wouldn’t it? I mean, assuming the person doing the self-publishing knows how to properly layout the text, can provide substantial cover art, etc. A publisher is supposed to back your work, help promote it, but let’s be honest here -- the bulk of promotion lies in the author’s corner anyway. The benefit of having a publisher back you is your book is more apt to get reviewed by respected magazines, might get decent distribution, though in terms of most small press publishers that still doesn't mean you'll end up in major bookstores.

Why am I bringing this up? Do I plan on self-publishing a novel or short story collection? No, not at all. But I’ve been thinking about my pet project, the novella I posted online and also uploaded to Kindle. As I mentioned before (either on this blog or the old one), the project was more an experiment than anything else. Yes, it’s always nice to make money, but the purpose of putting The Silver Ring online was to try to attract new readers. I do pretty much no self-promotion on the thing at all, but the website has been linked to enough places that there are visitors every day.

My initial plan was to do the PDF thing, the novella and a bonus short story for a donation of 99 cents, and while a decent amount of people have donated (thank you again, everyone!), it’s definitely nothing that will buy me a new car any time soon ... or even a clunker. But again, this thing was never about making money. Ultimately it’s about the reader, giving the reader what I hope is a good product.

Only, the more I started thinking about it, is a PDF copy really a good product?

In the end, what does one do with it? Read it on the computer, sure, or else they print it out. And once they print it out, then what? It’s not like you can put it on a bookcase, and even if you tried, what would be the point? It's not really tangible, something you can carry around and show people. No, of course not, so what happens to it? Most likely, it ends up in the trash.

When I launched the novella back in May, the whole Hint Fiction contest had been in full-swing, and then with everything in its wake the project sort of got put on a back-burner. But like I said I’ve been doing some thinking, mostly about self-publishing, and I’ve been playing around with the idea of releasing The Silver Ring as a digest-sized paperback. It would include the entire novella plus the bonus short story and host that great cover my friend Wyatt made for it (even better, it would hopefully be wrap around too). And, as this was never about making money, the plan would be to price it just above the manufacturing cost, so that it would be as cheap as it can be. Right now I’m thinking around eight bucks, and that would include domestic shipping (international shipping might be another dollar or two). I would limit it to 100 copies, signed and numbered, and could sell them directly from the main website -- otherwise, going through Lulu's online store and Amazon and elsewhere, the retail price would be more expensive to off-set their costs, and then you would have to pay shipping on top of that.

So I would really like to hear your thoughts. Not necessarily regarding my novella, but in general -- are you more apt to buy a book if it’s priced reasonably than you are a PDF? Are PDFs a waste of time? Are actual printed books a waste of time? Is the fact that a particular story -- like my novella -- completely free to read online make you less likely to purchase a copy of the book? Or do you not care at all?

Every reader is different, just like every writer is different. What works for (or appeals to) one, won’t work for (appeal to) another. It’s trying to find the balance that is the hard part, and truthfully, I don’t think there is a way to find it.

Of course, this is all speculation right now. Just throwing the idea out there. And please keep in mind that those who had originally purchased the PDF and would like to buy the book as well will have 99 cents factored out of the cost.

Now, as Martin Landau always says in Entourage, does that sound like something you might be interested in?

P.S. My official thoughts on self-publishing are the same as giving your work away for free -- I don't see a problem with it as long as you know exactly what you're doing (self-publishing or giving your work away for free) and have a damned good reason for doing it.