Thanks to Alan Baxter who tweeted the link to this post by Jeremiah Tolbert - 5 Lies Writers Believe About Editors.
I've been wanting to write a post about my recent ongoing adventures as an indie publisher. I have a bunch of different measures for gauging the way I track my progress in this venture. Some of them are obvious - bottom line, book sales, source of invoice requests, reviews and review outlets, buzz, award nominations, slush (who submits to you and what they submit). Some of them are quantifiable and some are not.
One of the things though that I have been struggling with is the way sometimes I feel like Ms No. The shortlistings of Twelfth Planet Press books and short stories in the Aurealis Awards dramatically increased the number of emails, pitches, requests and opportunities that started to be directed my way. Which is really cool. I'm constantly looking to learn and grow and evolve as an editor and publisher and the more opportunities that come my way, the greater chance that I can do this. The trick though of course, is in the picking of which things to opt in and which to opt out of. Which ultimately will tell whether I am on or totally off mark.
And so I have come to realise that the number of times I use the word "No" in a week is a new measure. I hate saying No. But just like slushing stories, if I want to be a gatekeeper, that means I have to, well, stand at the gate and check the pockets of all who enter. Slushing 70 submissions to Sprawl was hard because I knew I was only able to buy so few of them and that would mean so many rejection letters. It was harder than say slushing for Shiny because now there are more and more names that I recognise in my slush pile. It doesn't change my objectives or the way I operate it just means that there is this hard bit at the end - the sitting down and the writing of "No".
So too I have begun to get deluged by all sorts of requests for things - requests for internships, all sorts of artists and designers requesting work, lots and lots of pitches for projects. And I've had moments where I've thought, "but I'm just me, and this laptop here." It can get overwhelming at times, if only because I need to sit down and write all these polite declines. At the same time, it's pretty cool because I can glimpse a bit of where I want to be and that maybe, just maybe, if I stay on track, be clear about what my own vision and direction is and stick with it, there's a chance I might just get where I want to go. Maybe. After all, luck is still a pretty big player in this game.
But back to the article, I love the 5 lies that Tolbert debunks. Yep, not every story deserves fair consideration. Any serious time slushing will teach that. Also, editors reject good stories - stories get rejected for a bunch of reasons. In terms of Sprawl, I had a very clear tone I was looking for in the stories that I hope will overarch the anthology as a whole. This meant I did reject a story if it didn't fit with the tone, some were still good stories and will easily find homes elsewhere. I hope that the call for submissions excited writers to write stories that they otherwise wouldn't have written and that the spread of the suburban story goes out far and wide into other publications.
The third lie - that editors don't foster writers like they used to - is a really interesting one. Tolbert debunks it. But it reminds me of a really interesting discussion I had at
cassiphone's house on xmas day with her dad and then several times later on as I mulled it over.
I very definitely work behind the scenes with certain writers. And I have had some very definite results with several (stay tuned for two I am really proud of in the 2010 lineup). Just because an editor isn't fostering you, doesn't mean that the mentoring is not going on. I am also aware that I am gradually building up my own stable of writers. This is something that I have mixed feelings about. Tolbert says: Editors do build a stable of writers. The reason most people don’t see it is because by the time you come along, the editor has already established a group of authors he or she can count on. But short story writers in particular are always going on to write novels, so openings do occur from time to time.
If you really want feedback on your work, join a workshop or critique circle. It’s not the editor’s job to help you become a better writer. Sometimes, we’re helpful, but we can’t do it for everyone.
cassiphone's dad and I were discussing the waves of publishing. He was talking about how new waves (which come from small presses which spot and foster new and fresh talent, build writer loyalty and a stable for their houses) come in and destabilise the status quo which has become stagnant and old. The new wave is fresh and different and so is appealing to readers but of course inevitably it too is destined to become the stale status quo and cycle is repeated. I don't want to become stagnant and old :P
Read the rest of his post, it's well worth it:
“Editors are just like us.” No, we’re not. You don’t have a neverending stream of bad writing coming at you day in, day out. You get to read for pleasure, selecting material that has been through at least one filter. Whereas you turn on the tap and get a stream of nice drinkable water, we put our mouths to a sewer pipe and hope to get at least one swallow that won’t give us raging diarrhea.

I've been wanting to write a post about my recent ongoing adventures as an indie publisher. I have a bunch of different measures for gauging the way I track my progress in this venture. Some of them are obvious - bottom line, book sales, source of invoice requests, reviews and review outlets, buzz, award nominations, slush (who submits to you and what they submit). Some of them are quantifiable and some are not.
One of the things though that I have been struggling with is the way sometimes I feel like Ms No. The shortlistings of Twelfth Planet Press books and short stories in the Aurealis Awards dramatically increased the number of emails, pitches, requests and opportunities that started to be directed my way. Which is really cool. I'm constantly looking to learn and grow and evolve as an editor and publisher and the more opportunities that come my way, the greater chance that I can do this. The trick though of course, is in the picking of which things to opt in and which to opt out of. Which ultimately will tell whether I am on or totally off mark.
And so I have come to realise that the number of times I use the word "No" in a week is a new measure. I hate saying No. But just like slushing stories, if I want to be a gatekeeper, that means I have to, well, stand at the gate and check the pockets of all who enter. Slushing 70 submissions to Sprawl was hard because I knew I was only able to buy so few of them and that would mean so many rejection letters. It was harder than say slushing for Shiny because now there are more and more names that I recognise in my slush pile. It doesn't change my objectives or the way I operate it just means that there is this hard bit at the end - the sitting down and the writing of "No".
So too I have begun to get deluged by all sorts of requests for things - requests for internships, all sorts of artists and designers requesting work, lots and lots of pitches for projects. And I've had moments where I've thought, "but I'm just me, and this laptop here." It can get overwhelming at times, if only because I need to sit down and write all these polite declines. At the same time, it's pretty cool because I can glimpse a bit of where I want to be and that maybe, just maybe, if I stay on track, be clear about what my own vision and direction is and stick with it, there's a chance I might just get where I want to go. Maybe. After all, luck is still a pretty big player in this game.
But back to the article, I love the 5 lies that Tolbert debunks. Yep, not every story deserves fair consideration. Any serious time slushing will teach that. Also, editors reject good stories - stories get rejected for a bunch of reasons. In terms of Sprawl, I had a very clear tone I was looking for in the stories that I hope will overarch the anthology as a whole. This meant I did reject a story if it didn't fit with the tone, some were still good stories and will easily find homes elsewhere. I hope that the call for submissions excited writers to write stories that they otherwise wouldn't have written and that the spread of the suburban story goes out far and wide into other publications.
The third lie - that editors don't foster writers like they used to - is a really interesting one. Tolbert debunks it. But it reminds me of a really interesting discussion I had at
I very definitely work behind the scenes with certain writers. And I have had some very definite results with several (stay tuned for two I am really proud of in the 2010 lineup). Just because an editor isn't fostering you, doesn't mean that the mentoring is not going on. I am also aware that I am gradually building up my own stable of writers. This is something that I have mixed feelings about. Tolbert says: Editors do build a stable of writers. The reason most people don’t see it is because by the time you come along, the editor has already established a group of authors he or she can count on. But short story writers in particular are always going on to write novels, so openings do occur from time to time.
If you really want feedback on your work, join a workshop or critique circle. It’s not the editor’s job to help you become a better writer. Sometimes, we’re helpful, but we can’t do it for everyone.
Read the rest of his post, it's well worth it:
“Editors are just like us.” No, we’re not. You don’t have a neverending stream of bad writing coming at you day in, day out. You get to read for pleasure, selecting material that has been through at least one filter. Whereas you turn on the tap and get a stream of nice drinkable water, we put our mouths to a sewer pipe and hope to get at least one swallow that won’t give us raging diarrhea.
