Submissions, Paper and Not
My friends are laughing at me.
It all started when I admitted, at dinner with an awesome Wiscon crowd, that I'm reluctant to mail in paper submissions. (That report is here.)
When I told my Clarion friends, they were even more amused. redcrowkater had gotten some nice picture postcards and was showing them to us. Mid-sentence, she paused, held one up for me, and turned it over. "See, you can stick a stamp here, and mail it. One less step. You don't even need to look for an envelope..." (Kater likes paper. She write in fountain pen, and it looks elegant.)
So, time to defend myself. A little bit, anyway.
My theory is that to some extent, submissions are a numbers game.
The recommended submission process is to start at the top (i.e. the magazines that pay the most) and work down as the story is rejected. After all, if you don't submit, how do you know that, say, Asimov's wouldn't have taken your story?
I don't do this.
The pro magazines, most of which require paper subs, are extremely selective. Let's say I have about a 5% chance of acceptance at any venue. (It might be less. Some places are taking 1-2% of the stories they see.) Let's say that with the printing/ mailing/ waiting etc, it takes about two months to get a response. I think that errs on the favorable side, though of course it depends on the magazine. That means that for any one magazine, I can submit six stories a year (assuming I have six stories that are appropriate for them). It would take over three years to break into that market.
Instead, I try to match the story to a magazine - most often semi-pro - where I think the editor is going to like it. Each publication has a distinctive style, and I try for a match. Also, I have a slight preference for web-based publications. If I want someone in a different city or country to see it, I don't have to tell them to hunt the magazine down in a bookstore. I send them the link.
Sometimes it works; other times, not. .
With e-subs, it's relatively painless. I send them out. They come back. I review the thing, see if there's another magazine it would be good for. If yes, out it goes again, probably at midnight or later. No envelopes, no stamps, no trip to mailbox. And from time to time, what's in my in-box is ... they want my story.
Today, Big Pulp accepted my 1000-word story, The Scent Assassin.
And my Clarion classmate informed me yesterday that the short film he made, based on my story The Rumpelstiltskin Retellings, will be screened in San Francisco this weekend.
It all started when I admitted, at dinner with an awesome Wiscon crowd, that I'm reluctant to mail in paper submissions. (That report is here.)
When I told my Clarion friends, they were even more amused. redcrowkater had gotten some nice picture postcards and was showing them to us. Mid-sentence, she paused, held one up for me, and turned it over. "See, you can stick a stamp here, and mail it. One less step. You don't even need to look for an envelope..." (Kater likes paper. She write in fountain pen, and it looks elegant.)
So, time to defend myself. A little bit, anyway.
My theory is that to some extent, submissions are a numbers game.
The recommended submission process is to start at the top (i.e. the magazines that pay the most) and work down as the story is rejected. After all, if you don't submit, how do you know that, say, Asimov's wouldn't have taken your story?
I don't do this.
The pro magazines, most of which require paper subs, are extremely selective. Let's say I have about a 5% chance of acceptance at any venue. (It might be less. Some places are taking 1-2% of the stories they see.) Let's say that with the printing/ mailing/ waiting etc, it takes about two months to get a response. I think that errs on the favorable side, though of course it depends on the magazine. That means that for any one magazine, I can submit six stories a year (assuming I have six stories that are appropriate for them). It would take over three years to break into that market.
Instead, I try to match the story to a magazine - most often semi-pro - where I think the editor is going to like it. Each publication has a distinctive style, and I try for a match. Also, I have a slight preference for web-based publications. If I want someone in a different city or country to see it, I don't have to tell them to hunt the magazine down in a bookstore. I send them the link.
Sometimes it works; other times, not. .
With e-subs, it's relatively painless. I send them out. They come back. I review the thing, see if there's another magazine it would be good for. If yes, out it goes again, probably at midnight or later. No envelopes, no stamps, no trip to mailbox. And from time to time, what's in my in-box is ... they want my story.
Today, Big Pulp accepted my 1000-word story, The Scent Assassin.
And my Clarion classmate informed me yesterday that the short film he made, based on my story The Rumpelstiltskin Retellings, will be screened in San Francisco this weekend.