#7 – Dealing With Rejection

Ah we’ve all had to deal with rejection one way or another, I’m sure.

Obviously when you’re given the thumbs down on a project, or that certain someone who caught your eye/heart didn’t throw theirs back (countless times I’ve dropped the ball on that one!) or even when your application for a job is turned down, rejection is a big sucky thing, but, using the words of Thomas Wayne of Batman:

“Why do we fall? So we can learn to pick ourselves up.”

Yes, both Asimovs Science Fiction and Interzone rejected my manuscript for Never A Dull Moment.

Sad face and all that…

This is good, though, as I’m now free to post it elsewhere. Didn’t take too long either. Asimovs was an electronic submission and they replied in about two weeks which I’m taking as them having to reread it plenty to make sure, rather than instantly dropping it in the bin. The latter, of course, is probably more accurate.

So what now? What other publishers can I send my work too?
Well, finding one is non too hard with the power of Google at your fingertips, but deciding on whether your work is for them or not is an annoying struggle. You then have to make sure that it fits within their guidelines, which publishers are very strict with!
Take this new house I was told about:

Gold Orchid Publishing.

If you send these guys some stuff and it’s not to their submission guidelines, they might even black list you!
And too damned right!
I’ve mentioned my reasons for keeping to guidelines and cannot stress enough how highly important it is for any author to pay strict attention to them.

I liken choosing a publisher to that wooden shape posting box I had as a child – something which still confuses me to this day.
My story is an irregular shape and the publishers box has all sorts of holes which my story appears it could fit into, but as I start to push, it gets snagged by one tiny little corner. If I dare to force it through, I’m bound to anger the box… And this is where the analogy starts getting all anthropomorphic so I’ll stop it and either rewrite it or leave it as it is…

Oh, yes, rewriting. Constant editing. Constant headache... Honestly, sometimes this story is like having a beautiful women in my arms – I just can’t stop caressing or tickling the cunning- Oh Christ-on-a-Segway I’m likening my writing to beautiful women.
How overly confident of me!
No, let’s not do this again. Let’s not get all filthy Goat Boy in this post…

Ah I digress.  Here’s what happened As I opened the letter from Interzone.
There was a moment of optimism, of joy and wonder. I distinctly remember bolstering myself for bad news, though. Mostly because the weight of the envelope indicated my story was inside. At that moment, I knew it was rejected. If they wanted it, they would’ve just sent a mere note with ‘Yes please’ written on it. As I took the still clean pages out, I remember the indignation I felt for myself assuming my first shot would hit target. How foolish I can be.
The covering note from Interzone was pleasant to read. It surmounted to telling me not to give up, that a form rejection isn’t always a bad thing; it just means they have other stuff on. They say to keep trying them with new stuff and good luck. And also a payment form for a subscription.

Wouldn’t it be so very cool if they gave a brief critique as well? We writers can dream!

Oh, and as for critiques, I’m waiting for Groupon to post a deal. They’re so damned expensive! Like a marriage in ways. You pay a massive upfront fee only to be told later either good news or terrible you-should-really-divorce-writing news… I’m not so keen to test the waters on that one yet.

Let’s not settle on my failures. Instead, I’ll briefly deal with the issues raised last post where I mentioned a certain Facebook challenge.

Writing for the word challenge where I was offered Wendover, Innuendo, Psychotic, and Spontaneous has been done – sort of. I’ve got my lovely little plot about some mental patient who requires 24/7 care and this care is privately paid for by the patients parents. A new care worker joins the small team and is soon the target of the patients somewhat uncouth requirements. Thus we have a problem for our new care worker as they slowly get embroiled in a fantastically hideous affair I’m most proud of.
When I’ve finished completely, I’ll post here as a teaser. The best thing being that since it was a mere Facebook challenge posted randomly like any other status – no one will be pushing me for their story. Who’s really going to remember? No one, that’s who, rendering me free of the embarrassment of not completing it on time. Frankly I’ll be utterly amazed if anyone did mention it. What would I do if given an actual deadline!

One day we’ll find out.
Sadly, that’s about it for me on this post, and I’m sure you’ve noticed the bi-weekly update schedule by now instead of the weekly. That’s not because I’ve been lazy.

It’s because I’ve been dancing and kissing very, very pretty girls.

Kind Regards And Seventeen Kisses.

Liquidation

This is another Facebook Writing Challenge story.

As colony experiments went, planet Free Reign was deemed an absolute, unarguable failure. Humanity, besought by it’s better half, left in vast ships for the ripe destiny promised by the founding corporations.
“Live your dreams” people were told. Everyone bought it, and those that petitioned for whatever cause they belonged, soon found their cries muted by sheer numbers – like a child dumbfounded by his fellow classmates as they bicker and brawl over the latest addition to the park. Anyone who realized was never listened to.
As the ships embarked, powerful technology commanding a whole range of physics to bend space, humanity became a noticed entity from other, secretive forms of life. Life forms who recognised the destination, who had been there before. Life forms with wholly unique plans for those who would settle on their back yard without permission.
It was one hundred and fifty years of progressive colonisation that suddenly went dark when the life forms finally made their existence known. They had sabotaged any link to the other world, barricaded the wormhole apertures so not a single ship could leave or arrive.
Only when Free Reign was cut off did the Life Forms send a missionary to discuss the terms of the colonies let.
What was recorded as the most hostile and unreasonable settling of affairs in human history, ended with the Life Forms declaring every human on Free Reign in debt to them. Payment for squandering the planet was to be collected immediately – by the lives of all. Each asset the corporations back on Earth owned, each person tied to an economic agreement for funding was, literally, liquidated.

Disembowelled

Every now and then on my Facebook profile, I invite my friends to challenge my writing. I ask them for one word, which is the main inspiration of the story and I have to write it in less than half an hour.
Here is a collection of such stories.

Disembowelled

‘What are they?’ I asked.
‘Those? Why, those are your guts on the floor.’
‘Oh.’
I hadn’t seemed to care at the time.
‘They look weird there.’
‘Yes, they will. Don’t worry. Anaesthetising is in it’s golden age now. Are you thirsty?’
‘No.’ At the time, I had failed to see the importance of the question.
‘So you’re not feeling nauseous or dizzy. No butterflies in the belly or much like that?’
‘No, I feel fine. Am I missing a leg?’
‘Actually, yes. How did you know?’
‘I can’t feel it.’
‘Now that’s interesting. Can you feel much else?’
‘My tongue.’
‘Fascinating.’
‘Why so?’
‘Because you’re body dead.’
‘Oh.’
‘You were killed in a road accident – well, your body was – but we saved your mind. Uploaded it into this unit you’re in now. I’m awfully sorry you had to witness your donor pledge being carried out. I couldn’t possibly imagine what seeing yourself disembowelled feels like. Hey, were all new in this field!’
‘I thought I was dead. Just wasn’t sure.’
‘Well, don’t worry too much Mr Davenport. We’ll have you moved to a new donor body soon enough.’