Personally, I'm in bad need of inspiration these days. While the editing I'm doing for DMS (recently changed their name to Demand Media Studios) isn't exactly enlightening, watching those dollars roll in twice-a-week is addictive. However, I found a competition that's right up my alley--the WritersWeekly 24-Hour Short Story Contest.
I've always been my most productive, not to mention my most creative, in workshops or online classes where I've been given an assignment and required to produce something in a short period of time. Usually it's about a week, but at Kenyon it was overnight. Sure, those stories have flaws, that's expected when writing fiction under a short deadline. Maybe that's exactly what makes it easier for me.
The 24-hour contest is just what it sounds. You sign up to get an email notice at the hour the contest begins--yes that's hour, not day--and you have 24 hours to write and email in your story based on the prompt and word count posted on the website. You are limited to one submission and sending it once in the body of the email. So, in addition to creative considerations, there are technical ones as well, like making sure your submission doesn't show up as a bunch of unreadable hieroglyphics.
The fee is $5.00 with a chance to win $300, $250 or $200 for first, second, and third prize respectively. In addition winners receive WR's Freelance Income Kit and publication on the site. Twenty Honorable Mentions receive a year's subscription to The Write Market Report and an eBook of their choice.
The contest runs four times per year. As I see it, that adds up to four chances to win for what it would cost for one entry to many other literary competitions.
But for me, really, winning isn't the thing. I found the challenge exhilarating, but unlike other situations where I've written on the fly, theres a chance, outside, true, but a chance of winning a nice sum. If that unlikely event does not occur then I have, as with pieces I've written on assignment for workshops and classes, a good start that I can polish and expand.
For me, that's a win, no matter how you look at it.
Showing posts with label Thoughts on the Writing Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thoughts on the Writing Life. Show all posts
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Because It Is My Name
Last night I watched the 1990s movie version of Arthur Miller's The Crucible. At the end John Proctor (played movingly by Daniel Day-Lewis) reluctantly signs his name to a confession of witchcraft that will allow him and his wife to go free. However, he recants when the judges insist on posting the confession on the church door for everyone to see. Why, he is asked. "Because it is my name. It is the only one I will have in this life."
It struck me how, though less dramatically, this applies to writers. We have a name, and even if we choose to use another one for our writing, it still represents us and, therefore, everything that goes out under that name should be our best effort.
I mentioned in passing that I've begun to edit for a content site. Yes, the same kind of site I panned in some recent posts. I wasn't going to say much about it here, mainly because I didn't think many of my readers would be interested. However, in the past week I edited a couple of submissions with familiar names and bios at the bottom, and one was by an award-winning novelist who spoke at a conference I recently attended.
I imagine these people are writing for these sites for the same reason I edit for them. Not only does creative writing not pay much anymore, with contest submission fees––and now fees for standard submissions––attending conferences for networking, paying someone to design a website, and even published novelists often spending more on self-promotion than they make in royalties, most creative writers end up in the red, without counting those who paid for an MFA degree. Unless you are a pensioner (in which case you are usually too old to be taken seriously) or can depend on a partner's income, you may decide to lower your standards a bit in order to make some cash. But lower standards for where you will submit, shouldn't mean lower standards for what you submit.
I will tell you that from among 300 how-to and list articles I've edited in the past 3 weeks, the one by the novelist was one of only three I accepted on the first draft. The rest have gone back for rewrites even though it takes twice as much work for the same money and twice as long for me to get paid. Why? Because while I am not allowed to give my name, it is still my name I'm editing under, and I know it. I imagine the same applied to the piece the novelist submitted. Unfortunately, not all professional writers seem to feel the same.
As with any other editing job, the majority of submissions come from people who think they can write, but can't. When those writers think they can write knowledgeably about something they've never done, just by perusing a website or two, you can see why so much gets turned back. However, going by the bios (which, by the way, are not required, so I'm not telling tales about the novelist), some of these people are experienced writers who somehow feel what they are doing does not require their best efforts. One almost senses these writers throwing down their credentials like a gauntlet, challenging editors to question their skills and expertise.
Regularly, they ignore guidelines, like starting steps with an "action verb" or using AP style for punctuation. They use fancy language as filler to cover a lack of knowledge or skip steps in a fairly easy task like making home-made party invitations. Based on the credits in the bios, I can only assume they did not try to get away with the same things when submitting to those other publications, so why do they do it for this site? Perhaps as a way of saying, we do not deserve their best work. Then they get all huffy when something is rejected or post on other sites about the poor editors at the site I work with.
The novelist I spoke of obviously didn't feel that way. First she chose something she knew, a writing-related topic. Then she followed the guidelines perfectly and still managed to add some style. The piece was perfect––I didn't even need to add or subtract a comma––and she proudly added her bio, maybe the best bio to ever appear on the site.
As writers we may have to lower our standards in order to support our creative habit. Still, everything you write, whether for your blog or a letter to the local newspaper should meet your highest standards, because it is your name, and you should want it associated only with your best work.
It struck me how, though less dramatically, this applies to writers. We have a name, and even if we choose to use another one for our writing, it still represents us and, therefore, everything that goes out under that name should be our best effort.
I mentioned in passing that I've begun to edit for a content site. Yes, the same kind of site I panned in some recent posts. I wasn't going to say much about it here, mainly because I didn't think many of my readers would be interested. However, in the past week I edited a couple of submissions with familiar names and bios at the bottom, and one was by an award-winning novelist who spoke at a conference I recently attended.
I imagine these people are writing for these sites for the same reason I edit for them. Not only does creative writing not pay much anymore, with contest submission fees––and now fees for standard submissions––attending conferences for networking, paying someone to design a website, and even published novelists often spending more on self-promotion than they make in royalties, most creative writers end up in the red, without counting those who paid for an MFA degree. Unless you are a pensioner (in which case you are usually too old to be taken seriously) or can depend on a partner's income, you may decide to lower your standards a bit in order to make some cash. But lower standards for where you will submit, shouldn't mean lower standards for what you submit.
I will tell you that from among 300 how-to and list articles I've edited in the past 3 weeks, the one by the novelist was one of only three I accepted on the first draft. The rest have gone back for rewrites even though it takes twice as much work for the same money and twice as long for me to get paid. Why? Because while I am not allowed to give my name, it is still my name I'm editing under, and I know it. I imagine the same applied to the piece the novelist submitted. Unfortunately, not all professional writers seem to feel the same.
As with any other editing job, the majority of submissions come from people who think they can write, but can't. When those writers think they can write knowledgeably about something they've never done, just by perusing a website or two, you can see why so much gets turned back. However, going by the bios (which, by the way, are not required, so I'm not telling tales about the novelist), some of these people are experienced writers who somehow feel what they are doing does not require their best efforts. One almost senses these writers throwing down their credentials like a gauntlet, challenging editors to question their skills and expertise.
Regularly, they ignore guidelines, like starting steps with an "action verb" or using AP style for punctuation. They use fancy language as filler to cover a lack of knowledge or skip steps in a fairly easy task like making home-made party invitations. Based on the credits in the bios, I can only assume they did not try to get away with the same things when submitting to those other publications, so why do they do it for this site? Perhaps as a way of saying, we do not deserve their best work. Then they get all huffy when something is rejected or post on other sites about the poor editors at the site I work with.
The novelist I spoke of obviously didn't feel that way. First she chose something she knew, a writing-related topic. Then she followed the guidelines perfectly and still managed to add some style. The piece was perfect––I didn't even need to add or subtract a comma––and she proudly added her bio, maybe the best bio to ever appear on the site.
As writers we may have to lower our standards in order to support our creative habit. Still, everything you write, whether for your blog or a letter to the local newspaper should meet your highest standards, because it is your name, and you should want it associated only with your best work.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
April Come and Gone
It's been a frenzied week. I took on an editing job with a content site. Not the classiest gig in town, so it shall remain nameless, but I made $100 since last week this time and I haven't even reached the quota yet. Since my daughter arrived home for two extra years of college with a diamond ring and plans to marry––originally in two years, now possibly one––the money will come in handy. My plan is to work to meet my quota in 15 hours a week, leaving some bit of time, after doing what I need to for my Mom and our business, to devote to my own writing.
Funny how the lack of time leads to desire. Recently I'd had trouble motivating myself to write creatively. Now I crave it.
Hard to believe, with all that is going on here, that it was just one year ago, yesterday, that my Dad passed away. Everything is so different this year. Last April was so rainy they had to put plywood down at the grave site for us to walk on. He was hospitalized the entire month, going back and forth between rehab centers and nursing homes as we stressed about the day they'd put him out and we'd have to arrange care for him at home.
This year the warm weather started intermittently in March, providing plenty of days to repair all the snow damage before the weeds poked their heads out and mulching time came around. Today was unseasonably warm in the high 80s and tomorrow will be 90. Too warm to work outside, especially as our bodies aren't accustomed to it yet. But the evening was a rare treat. Everywhere you walk through our neighborhood the air is literally perfumed with azalea blossoms, and the lilacs are on their way. The night was clear with just a few wisps of clouds, I sat on the patio listening to the birds singing their last songs of the day.
It's nice to just breath it in sometimes and appreciate the moment. To spend some time outdoors without looking for weeds to pull or leaves to rake. To think about where we are and where we've been.
That, to me, is a writer's paradise.
Funny how the lack of time leads to desire. Recently I'd had trouble motivating myself to write creatively. Now I crave it.
Hard to believe, with all that is going on here, that it was just one year ago, yesterday, that my Dad passed away. Everything is so different this year. Last April was so rainy they had to put plywood down at the grave site for us to walk on. He was hospitalized the entire month, going back and forth between rehab centers and nursing homes as we stressed about the day they'd put him out and we'd have to arrange care for him at home.
This year the warm weather started intermittently in March, providing plenty of days to repair all the snow damage before the weeds poked their heads out and mulching time came around. Today was unseasonably warm in the high 80s and tomorrow will be 90. Too warm to work outside, especially as our bodies aren't accustomed to it yet. But the evening was a rare treat. Everywhere you walk through our neighborhood the air is literally perfumed with azalea blossoms, and the lilacs are on their way. The night was clear with just a few wisps of clouds, I sat on the patio listening to the birds singing their last songs of the day.
It's nice to just breath it in sometimes and appreciate the moment. To spend some time outdoors without looking for weeds to pull or leaves to rake. To think about where we are and where we've been.
That, to me, is a writer's paradise.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Beware the Elite Group Approach
Writing is a lot like singing. Deep down we all believe if a talent scout happened to stand outside our shower, he would immediately sign us for a contract. Same with writing. I don't need to tell those of you who edit/teach as well as write how many more people believe they can write than actually can.
Back in the day of the quill this wasn't a problem. First off, being able to write meant something much more literal. I'm guessing the invention of the typewriter led to more poor submissions, but even then, the struggle of typing and correcting, coupled with paying to send a clean manuscript through the mail, still kept numbers rather small.
Enter the computer and word processing and guidelines available online and sending submissions off with one mouse click. Suddenly the physical acts of writing and submitting have become so simplified all those people who believe they can write are really doing it and sending it out hoping for publication. It is often implied that this over supply caused the proliferation of nonpaying literary journals. Maybe I'm prejudiced, but I wouldn't agree. The elite journals that publish big-name writers, the ones new writers rarely if ever get into, continue to pay fairly well, while nonpaying journals, particularly those online, may pay little or nothing but offer new writers––who otherwise wouldn't get published or paid–-an opportunity to break in.
At the risk of repeating myself, this over supply of writers has caused another seriously bad trend––the content site. For those unfamiliar with the term, the sites range anywhere from something like Suite 101 where writers post articles on a variety of topics and are paid a revenue share for ad clicks, to sites like Demand Studios where writers pick up assignments for a flat fee of anywhere from $3 to $15 for articles ranging from about 100 to 600 words. The latter sites serve as suppliers for other sites like eHow, About.com, etc.
I already covered in another post why I think these sites dumb down writing. They also exploit wannabe writers with a very old sales ploy, convincing them that they are part of a select group.
You've seen it a million times in sales pitches received in the mail.
These usually include photos of well-coifed and apparently well-healed individuals you'd like to believe you resemble or could resemble if you lived in these places.
In much the same way, content sites lure writers and keep them writing for slave wages by making them believe only the very best need apply. Some sites suggest they prefer journalism degrees. They all request writing samples and often a CV. Of course, it is impossible to know how many people are ever really rejected––almost as hard as finding out what the company makes off each article. My strong suspicion is the selection process is pretty lax, and they leave the rest up to the poor copy editors––who often make even less per article than the writers, if you can believe it.
One blog post by someone who was rejected by Suite 101 says they claim to accept only 20% of applicants. Notice the clever use of "only." Twenty percent is dang high if you think about it. Most online lit journals fall in the area of accepting around 1%-2% of submissions. Given the number of people who probably submit without checking the guidelines and send samples of the wrong type of article, my guess is it still isn't very hard to break in.
I will give Suite some credit (as you know I do write for them) in that they do have many writers at the site who are experts in their fields and/or thoroughly research articles to make them informative and even provide some new insights. We tend to be writers who are just looking for a little more exposure than we'd get through our blogs and, hey, making a few pennies wouldn't hoit. Unfortunately, I don't think the ability to write those articles is a criterion for an invitation to join.
While I and others may have our reasons, it pains me in the forums to read posts from people who really think writing for Suite or other content or pay-per-click sites gives them some kind of bragging rights and inroads that outweigh the minuscule pay. They attend writers conferences and return crestfallen when other writers don't consider them professionals, or they attempt to submit their articles as clips for better writing gigs and don't understand why they aren't taken more seriously.
If writers want to make a few bucks writing for these sites, I have no problem with it. I just wish the sites would be honest about what they are and what they count for, so more writers could go into it with their eyes open.
Back in the day of the quill this wasn't a problem. First off, being able to write meant something much more literal. I'm guessing the invention of the typewriter led to more poor submissions, but even then, the struggle of typing and correcting, coupled with paying to send a clean manuscript through the mail, still kept numbers rather small.
Enter the computer and word processing and guidelines available online and sending submissions off with one mouse click. Suddenly the physical acts of writing and submitting have become so simplified all those people who believe they can write are really doing it and sending it out hoping for publication. It is often implied that this over supply caused the proliferation of nonpaying literary journals. Maybe I'm prejudiced, but I wouldn't agree. The elite journals that publish big-name writers, the ones new writers rarely if ever get into, continue to pay fairly well, while nonpaying journals, particularly those online, may pay little or nothing but offer new writers––who otherwise wouldn't get published or paid–-an opportunity to break in.
At the risk of repeating myself, this over supply of writers has caused another seriously bad trend––the content site. For those unfamiliar with the term, the sites range anywhere from something like Suite 101 where writers post articles on a variety of topics and are paid a revenue share for ad clicks, to sites like Demand Studios where writers pick up assignments for a flat fee of anywhere from $3 to $15 for articles ranging from about 100 to 600 words. The latter sites serve as suppliers for other sites like eHow, About.com, etc.
I already covered in another post why I think these sites dumb down writing. They also exploit wannabe writers with a very old sales ploy, convincing them that they are part of a select group.
You've seen it a million times in sales pitches received in the mail.
"Your income level qualifies you to purchase a time share in..."
"Blank Properties, because you appreciate the finer things in life..."
"You've worked hard, now you deserve to enjoy your retirement at Living Well Estates..."
These usually include photos of well-coifed and apparently well-healed individuals you'd like to believe you resemble or could resemble if you lived in these places.
In much the same way, content sites lure writers and keep them writing for slave wages by making them believe only the very best need apply. Some sites suggest they prefer journalism degrees. They all request writing samples and often a CV. Of course, it is impossible to know how many people are ever really rejected––almost as hard as finding out what the company makes off each article. My strong suspicion is the selection process is pretty lax, and they leave the rest up to the poor copy editors––who often make even less per article than the writers, if you can believe it.
One blog post by someone who was rejected by Suite 101 says they claim to accept only 20% of applicants. Notice the clever use of "only." Twenty percent is dang high if you think about it. Most online lit journals fall in the area of accepting around 1%-2% of submissions. Given the number of people who probably submit without checking the guidelines and send samples of the wrong type of article, my guess is it still isn't very hard to break in.
I will give Suite some credit (as you know I do write for them) in that they do have many writers at the site who are experts in their fields and/or thoroughly research articles to make them informative and even provide some new insights. We tend to be writers who are just looking for a little more exposure than we'd get through our blogs and, hey, making a few pennies wouldn't hoit. Unfortunately, I don't think the ability to write those articles is a criterion for an invitation to join.
While I and others may have our reasons, it pains me in the forums to read posts from people who really think writing for Suite or other content or pay-per-click sites gives them some kind of bragging rights and inroads that outweigh the minuscule pay. They attend writers conferences and return crestfallen when other writers don't consider them professionals, or they attempt to submit their articles as clips for better writing gigs and don't understand why they aren't taken more seriously.
If writers want to make a few bucks writing for these sites, I have no problem with it. I just wish the sites would be honest about what they are and what they count for, so more writers could go into it with their eyes open.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Congrats to Kimberly and My Own Thoughts on Contests
First I want to congratulate one of my favorite bloggers, Kimberly Davis. Her poem "Alchemy" won Mid-America Review's James Wright Poetry Award. In her announcement Kimberly, as always, has some useful insights into writing contests.
Opinions regarding contests vary widely among writers. Some feel they are a waste of money since most require a submission fee and the odds of winning are long. Others are downright skeptical assuming that: new writers need not apply; an MFA is required; or winners are usually "in bed" with the judges. This skepticism was fanned a few years back when some dirty linen did fall out of the closet. In one or two cases it appeared judges had awarded former students, and in more than one case the judge determined there were no winners and contest sponsors refused demands for refunds of submission fees.
These situations were truly not the rule. If there were more than three or four that made the writer magazines, I'm not aware of them. However, as often happens, the hue and cry had the further beneficial effect of making contest sponsors even more vigilant for any appearance of favoritism.
Consequently, I would join Kim in encouraging writers to enter competitions, and I would add one additional reason to what she covers in her post. I find that writing for contests can be a great incentive to produce. While I've never come closer than a finalist––a distinction shared by the top 50 entries––some of my best work has been written with the intention of submitting to a specific contest.
I say intention, because I don't always submit the final product. Sometimes I miss the deadline while trying to get it into polished form, sometimes the final version doesn't appear as good a match as I first envisioned it, or I may decide I don't want to tie up a story with potential in a contest that doesn't accept simultaneous submissions. Whether I submit or not, I usually end up with something to show for my efforts.
As far as when and where to submit, contests can become an expensive habit. I encourage writers to set a budget and choose wisely. Keep in mind that choosing wisely doesn't mean the lowest submission fee or the one where winning is most likely. If the award carries little prestige, no amount of money will be worth it. But whether you submit and win, submit and don't win, or don't end up submitting at all, searching out and writing for competitions can be a useful expenditure of a writer's time.
Opinions regarding contests vary widely among writers. Some feel they are a waste of money since most require a submission fee and the odds of winning are long. Others are downright skeptical assuming that: new writers need not apply; an MFA is required; or winners are usually "in bed" with the judges. This skepticism was fanned a few years back when some dirty linen did fall out of the closet. In one or two cases it appeared judges had awarded former students, and in more than one case the judge determined there were no winners and contest sponsors refused demands for refunds of submission fees.
These situations were truly not the rule. If there were more than three or four that made the writer magazines, I'm not aware of them. However, as often happens, the hue and cry had the further beneficial effect of making contest sponsors even more vigilant for any appearance of favoritism.
Consequently, I would join Kim in encouraging writers to enter competitions, and I would add one additional reason to what she covers in her post. I find that writing for contests can be a great incentive to produce. While I've never come closer than a finalist––a distinction shared by the top 50 entries––some of my best work has been written with the intention of submitting to a specific contest.
I say intention, because I don't always submit the final product. Sometimes I miss the deadline while trying to get it into polished form, sometimes the final version doesn't appear as good a match as I first envisioned it, or I may decide I don't want to tie up a story with potential in a contest that doesn't accept simultaneous submissions. Whether I submit or not, I usually end up with something to show for my efforts.
As far as when and where to submit, contests can become an expensive habit. I encourage writers to set a budget and choose wisely. Keep in mind that choosing wisely doesn't mean the lowest submission fee or the one where winning is most likely. If the award carries little prestige, no amount of money will be worth it. But whether you submit and win, submit and don't win, or don't end up submitting at all, searching out and writing for competitions can be a useful expenditure of a writer's time.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Google and Dumbing Down Writing
I dragged myself out of bed Monday morning, after staying up late to watch the healthcare vote in the House, determined to get the first Healthcare Reform article up on Suite 101. It was an unqualified success earning three times more hits in one day––actually in half a day–-than I usually get on all my articles in a month. Of course, the revenue comes from ad clicks not PVs and the Google gods, in their infinite wisdom, filled the page with ads for medical insurance, of course. Bright move, as usual, on the part of our techy friends since this is the dumbest time in the world to buy medical insurance before all the preexisting laws go into effect and four years before you need to pay a penalty for going without coverage. And if any of my readers were in the market for medical insurance, I would be the first person to steer them far, far away from anything they would find through a Google ad.
Google is quickly replacing Wikipedia in my list of Internet irritants, which means I will be mightily irritated all the time as this Goliath practically owns the web. In this case, though, I don't blame Google as much as the writers and bloggers following the star they hope will finally bring fair compensation and assuming, when it doesn't, that it is due to some fault on their part.
I can't tell you how many times I see a post on blogger forums or the forums where writers of pay-per-clicks air their woes, wondering why they aren't making money, let alone a living, from their Adsense and/or Amazon Affiliate ads. I assume someone other than Google is making something from these ads, but I can tell you now, it isn't the general writer.
Now I'm the first one to condemn "writers" looking for get-rich-quick-schemes. These are often the people who have been looking for such schemes in one area or another all their lives. They think they will suddenly start writing on a blog, without ever honing their craft, spewing opinions with little regard to spelling or grammar and watch the ad income roll in. Then there are those who don't even want to do the set-up work but sign up for some site that allows them to write one article a week on whatever topic they choose and expect to make huge sums of money based on minimum effort.
Unfortunately, as I noted in an earlier post, more and more of these sites also attract previously successful freelancers, now torturing their prose into adword phrases in a vain attempt to make what they used to writing quality pieces for the print market. Sometimes they do okay. Many don't, and sometimes they watch writers with half the talent make more because they happen to luck into a topic that attracts good ads and ad clickers. Sadly, for them and for us, rather than focusing their considerable talents on what they used to do best––in depth research and clear presentation of valued subjects––they attempt to improve their adword skills instead, having been convinced that if they aren't one of the site's big earners, they––not the site or Google's lousy marketing strategists––are doing something wrong.
Coming out of the creative sector where $10 feels like a windfall, making $25 or $30 a quarter writing on topics I enjoy is enough for me. Consequently, I continue to work on my writing skills, trying to present complicated matters of politics or history in clear and easily understood terms. I'm willing to focus on SEO (as opposed to adwords), because, while I don't condone high school students automatically trusting the article with top billing, I also know that is what they do. So they may as well read something carefully written and with a list of further resources for them to check out. However, I have no interest in playing the adword game. Then again, I don't have to. My living comes from the business I help my husband run.
It started with Microsoft convincing us that when our PCs froze up due to nasty viruses, it was our fault, not theirs. Since then we've continued to allow the techies to convince us they always know best. For those who do depend on the income, it's not only exploitative to foster dreams of high incomes they will probably never achieve, but it encourages good writers to write about empty subjects with empty words in order to make money. Further adding to the dumbing down of our culture.
Rant over. I promise to find something more uplifting to write about next time.
Google is quickly replacing Wikipedia in my list of Internet irritants, which means I will be mightily irritated all the time as this Goliath practically owns the web. In this case, though, I don't blame Google as much as the writers and bloggers following the star they hope will finally bring fair compensation and assuming, when it doesn't, that it is due to some fault on their part.
I can't tell you how many times I see a post on blogger forums or the forums where writers of pay-per-clicks air their woes, wondering why they aren't making money, let alone a living, from their Adsense and/or Amazon Affiliate ads. I assume someone other than Google is making something from these ads, but I can tell you now, it isn't the general writer.
Now I'm the first one to condemn "writers" looking for get-rich-quick-schemes. These are often the people who have been looking for such schemes in one area or another all their lives. They think they will suddenly start writing on a blog, without ever honing their craft, spewing opinions with little regard to spelling or grammar and watch the ad income roll in. Then there are those who don't even want to do the set-up work but sign up for some site that allows them to write one article a week on whatever topic they choose and expect to make huge sums of money based on minimum effort.
Unfortunately, as I noted in an earlier post, more and more of these sites also attract previously successful freelancers, now torturing their prose into adword phrases in a vain attempt to make what they used to writing quality pieces for the print market. Sometimes they do okay. Many don't, and sometimes they watch writers with half the talent make more because they happen to luck into a topic that attracts good ads and ad clickers. Sadly, for them and for us, rather than focusing their considerable talents on what they used to do best––in depth research and clear presentation of valued subjects––they attempt to improve their adword skills instead, having been convinced that if they aren't one of the site's big earners, they––not the site or Google's lousy marketing strategists––are doing something wrong.
Coming out of the creative sector where $10 feels like a windfall, making $25 or $30 a quarter writing on topics I enjoy is enough for me. Consequently, I continue to work on my writing skills, trying to present complicated matters of politics or history in clear and easily understood terms. I'm willing to focus on SEO (as opposed to adwords), because, while I don't condone high school students automatically trusting the article with top billing, I also know that is what they do. So they may as well read something carefully written and with a list of further resources for them to check out. However, I have no interest in playing the adword game. Then again, I don't have to. My living comes from the business I help my husband run.
It started with Microsoft convincing us that when our PCs froze up due to nasty viruses, it was our fault, not theirs. Since then we've continued to allow the techies to convince us they always know best. For those who do depend on the income, it's not only exploitative to foster dreams of high incomes they will probably never achieve, but it encourages good writers to write about empty subjects with empty words in order to make money. Further adding to the dumbing down of our culture.
Rant over. I promise to find something more uplifting to write about next time.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Time for Writers to Go on Strike?
I was accustomed to not making anything for my short fiction. Within the ten year period that I've been writing seriously, markets have gotten tougher to break into while the pay has dwindled to little or nothing. Ludicrous as it is, I accepted that more and more publications tacitly required those three little letters––MFA––after a writer's name––a cost of thousands of dollars to appear in journals, the majority of which still paid little or nothing. But when full-time writers wanted to make enough dollars to at least get by on, there was always freelancing.
Sure it was hard. Freelancers had twice the stress of creative writers because, before every great article, there had to be a great query. Unlike fiction writers, article writers needed to know––really know not just vaguely know–– what they planned to write about in advance. They needed to line up interview subjects before they even got the green light to write the article. Then they had to research meticulously, cite sources, know how much quoting was fair use. It was a slow grind, but once they'd been at it for a while, freelancers often developed a stable of clients who standardly accepted their queries or that came to them time after time with assignments. Sure, it might be Fence Post Manufacturers of America or a request for an article comparing dental floss, but in the end this writer received a nice reward in the form of a fair sized check. With the discipline to query and write regularly, it could turn into a pretty good living.
Not anymore. Now even that market has gone down the tubes. These days my formerly professional freelance writer friends are lurking around pay-per-click and content for sale sites, sometimes posting several articles a day for which they often make less than $10 apiece. They take on pen names because the requirements and editing are often so bad, they don't want their names associated with it. They torture their sentences into adword phrases to earn more revenue from trashy looking Google ads. Often they sell full rights, losing that other freelancer benefit, reworking the same article for several different markets.
These articles are posted on sites like e-How and About.com and the numerous other sites advertising "expert" advice on a variety of subjects. Just how "expert" can an article be that is written in less than an hour? I'm not condemning the writers for lack of research. When you have to produce five articles to make one half of what you used to make from one, sounding like an expert rather than becoming one is the name of the game. This is what writing and by extension information has become in the age of the Internet. It's writers paid pennies to produce cheap trash that sells more cheap trash through click ads. And some of these sites have the nerve to prefer a journalism degree.
Writing is one profession most people take on because they enjoy it. No one expects to get wealthy these days. Writers are accustomed to living modestly, so they can work from home and enjoy a certain amount of autonomy. But when it turns into a sweat shop with little pay for long, boring hours, what's the point?
Maybe it is time to walk away. Maybe it is time to call a strike.
Sure it was hard. Freelancers had twice the stress of creative writers because, before every great article, there had to be a great query. Unlike fiction writers, article writers needed to know––really know not just vaguely know–– what they planned to write about in advance. They needed to line up interview subjects before they even got the green light to write the article. Then they had to research meticulously, cite sources, know how much quoting was fair use. It was a slow grind, but once they'd been at it for a while, freelancers often developed a stable of clients who standardly accepted their queries or that came to them time after time with assignments. Sure, it might be Fence Post Manufacturers of America or a request for an article comparing dental floss, but in the end this writer received a nice reward in the form of a fair sized check. With the discipline to query and write regularly, it could turn into a pretty good living.
Not anymore. Now even that market has gone down the tubes. These days my formerly professional freelance writer friends are lurking around pay-per-click and content for sale sites, sometimes posting several articles a day for which they often make less than $10 apiece. They take on pen names because the requirements and editing are often so bad, they don't want their names associated with it. They torture their sentences into adword phrases to earn more revenue from trashy looking Google ads. Often they sell full rights, losing that other freelancer benefit, reworking the same article for several different markets.
These articles are posted on sites like e-How and About.com and the numerous other sites advertising "expert" advice on a variety of subjects. Just how "expert" can an article be that is written in less than an hour? I'm not condemning the writers for lack of research. When you have to produce five articles to make one half of what you used to make from one, sounding like an expert rather than becoming one is the name of the game. This is what writing and by extension information has become in the age of the Internet. It's writers paid pennies to produce cheap trash that sells more cheap trash through click ads. And some of these sites have the nerve to prefer a journalism degree.
Writing is one profession most people take on because they enjoy it. No one expects to get wealthy these days. Writers are accustomed to living modestly, so they can work from home and enjoy a certain amount of autonomy. But when it turns into a sweat shop with little pay for long, boring hours, what's the point?
Maybe it is time to walk away. Maybe it is time to call a strike.
Monday, March 8, 2010
How Do You Measure Success?
The time between posts does fly, doesn't it? Especially when I'm working on other things. I have another cool post to share about the iPad, but I'm beginning to feel like a one-woman fan club, and since I don't plan to purchase one for a while, maybe it's best to give it a rest. With that I'll move on to something that I've been thinking about lately. That is, how individual writers measure success.
I'm sure each of us knows someone who calls himself a writer because he's been working on a magnum opus for the past decade. Though he's never been published––not even a letter to the editor––and he possibly never will be.
Then there's the person from your writing group who is featured as a local writer in your small town newspaper. You know darn well she self-published, and the other book club members plus her family make up the sum total of her sales. Yet, somehow, word got out in the community that she's a "published author" and she does nothing to disabuse them of that notion.
On the other end of that spectrum is the woman I sat next to at a wedding who participated in a writing group with the first fellow I mentioned, and I never knew she had three published, fairly successful novels of her own until I found one on the shelf at Barnes & Noble. Had I asked her when I had the chance, I'm guessing she'd say, "Oh, I've been lucky enough to publish a couple of things," but she probably wouldn't have called herself "successful."
For many, the definition of success depends on where we are in our writing career––if we even use the c-word to describe what we do. For those just starting to submit success means getting one thing published. When we cross that threshold we'll have earned the right to call ourselves writers. Some of us follow through, but some of us set up new hurdles. "The journal isn't very well-known. I'll wait until I get into one of the top-tiers." Or "I'll wait until I publish my novel."
Only today, even publishing a first novel may not make us feel successful. Many, many authors––probably the majority––publish only once and never again. So is it safe to call yourself a writer with any less than two or three published books? And what about sales? How many sales does your book have to make for you to feel successful? And just because people buy your book doesn't mean they like it. If you can't snag a "real" review from an impartial reviewer, how will you know all those friends and acquaintances you asked to review it are telling the truth and not just being nice?
Some people do no more than tap on a keyboard and crow about it. They're certain the reason they aren't yet published is that editors simply don't know good work when they see it. They will hobnob with other "writers" in forums and drop bits of advice like experts. Others will publish several stories, even books, and still feel like a charlatan. On the whole, I think the latter group makes the best writers.
I'm sure each of us knows someone who calls himself a writer because he's been working on a magnum opus for the past decade. Though he's never been published––not even a letter to the editor––and he possibly never will be.
Then there's the person from your writing group who is featured as a local writer in your small town newspaper. You know darn well she self-published, and the other book club members plus her family make up the sum total of her sales. Yet, somehow, word got out in the community that she's a "published author" and she does nothing to disabuse them of that notion.
On the other end of that spectrum is the woman I sat next to at a wedding who participated in a writing group with the first fellow I mentioned, and I never knew she had three published, fairly successful novels of her own until I found one on the shelf at Barnes & Noble. Had I asked her when I had the chance, I'm guessing she'd say, "Oh, I've been lucky enough to publish a couple of things," but she probably wouldn't have called herself "successful."
For many, the definition of success depends on where we are in our writing career––if we even use the c-word to describe what we do. For those just starting to submit success means getting one thing published. When we cross that threshold we'll have earned the right to call ourselves writers. Some of us follow through, but some of us set up new hurdles. "The journal isn't very well-known. I'll wait until I get into one of the top-tiers." Or "I'll wait until I publish my novel."
Only today, even publishing a first novel may not make us feel successful. Many, many authors––probably the majority––publish only once and never again. So is it safe to call yourself a writer with any less than two or three published books? And what about sales? How many sales does your book have to make for you to feel successful? And just because people buy your book doesn't mean they like it. If you can't snag a "real" review from an impartial reviewer, how will you know all those friends and acquaintances you asked to review it are telling the truth and not just being nice?
Some people do no more than tap on a keyboard and crow about it. They're certain the reason they aren't yet published is that editors simply don't know good work when they see it. They will hobnob with other "writers" in forums and drop bits of advice like experts. Others will publish several stories, even books, and still feel like a charlatan. On the whole, I think the latter group makes the best writers.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Every Day Brings a New Adventure This Winter
Here in the western suburbs of Philadelphia this is what I awoke to on my screened in back porch. Guess we won't have a fire in the fireplace this afternoon as the wood is covered and we'd need to put our boots on to get it. Our dog Sheila (she's a ten-year-old Aussie Cattle Dog, seen below) loved it, as it was like being outside without being exposed to the elements, and so she treated the porch floor as she would the lawn, if you know what I mean.
Below she makes her way around our buried patio after the last storm a couple of weeks ago. Until this morning that's where all her little winter presents were scattered.
Her expression tells what she thinks of having to place her rump on the cold snow for this shot.
And this was when I still found something lovely in the whole thing, before the wet patches showed up on the living room ceiling from the ice damming in our unreachable gutters.
Because weather like this comes along only sporadically in my part of the country, I try to keep a mental picture of what it was like watching the snow swirl and looking out my window to find three-foot drifts in some areas and bare grass in others. I'll try to remember the needle pricks of the snow when I walked out to the mailbox or the way wet flakes dripped behind my glasses during the last storm making it impossible for me to see or the way the wet wood hissed and crackled when we tried to make a fire.
Luckily I remain safe and warm in my home, even if there is a leak here and there, but these experiences help me project myself into a less safe situation that might arise in one of my creations. For now, though, I will have to put that aside and go sweep out my porch before all that snow melts into big messy puddles.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Rules for Writing: Do You Follow Them? Do You Care?
Thanks to blogger friend, Frank Wilson, I came upon this post of Elmore Leonard's and other writers' 10 rules for writing. I always find successful writers' advice at once fun and annoying. Fun like reading those "Do's and Don'ts" fashion tips in magazines. Annoying because, like fashion, one size does not fit all and the advice is often contradictory. Take Leonard's rule #8,
Then there's Hillary Mantel's advice repeated from Dorothea Brande about writing in the morning. Now I happen to be a morning person, so I'll buy that, but further down Andrew Motions rule #1 is,
Successful writers are always being asked for advice and rules. Most end up complying and telling other writers to do what they do. With a few exceptions, such as Philip Pullman who replied to the request,
How about you? Do you read other writers' rules for success? Do you seek out books on writing?
"Avoid detailed descriptions of characters."That's one with which I agree whole heartedly, mainly because I like to form my own images of characters. If my vision of a "perfect 10"is brunette, describing him as blond will ruin it for me. Consequently, I provide ultra-lite descriptions of my characters, if any at all. And, guess what? I don't think I've ever participated in a workshop where someone didn't criticize me for that and tell me they wanted more character description.
Then there's Hillary Mantel's advice repeated from Dorothea Brande about writing in the morning. Now I happen to be a morning person, so I'll buy that, but further down Andrew Motions rule #1 is,
"Decide when in the day (or night) it best suits you to write, and organise your life accordingly."Will Self Says,
"Don't look back until you've written an entire draft, just begin each day from the last sentence you wrote the preceeding day. ..."But wait, didn't Ernest Hemingway start each day by re-reading what he had written the day before and revising as he went along? If one starts only from the last sentence doesn't one risk losing the continuity of voice?
Successful writers are always being asked for advice and rules. Most end up complying and telling other writers to do what they do. With a few exceptions, such as Philip Pullman who replied to the request,
"My main rule is to say no to things like this, which tempt me away from my proper work."To that I would say,perhaps the same should be said for reading it.
How about you? Do you read other writers' rules for success? Do you seek out books on writing?
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Multitasking: How It Affects Reading and Writing
PBS' Frontline did an excellent program last night on our Digital Nation. It covered a variety of issues including tests that showed how young people who think they are excellent at multitasking are actually much slower at comprehending and reacting than they realize. I highly recommend you check it out if you didn't see it.
Apropos to this blog is something I have long suspected, which is how all this constant digital interaction affects reading and writing. One college student said he never reads books anymore, but refers to the "Cliff Notes." And as far as writing goes, studies have shown that students at the better colleges are able to write excellent paragraphs but unable to put those paragraphs together into a cogent argument. Anecdotally, many students agreed.
Considering the theme of my blog, I certainly don't need to point out I am not some old fogey who hates change. The Internet improved my life both as a writer and a reader. It has provided me with opportunities, like editing for literary journals, that I could otherwise never have dreamed of. On a less personal note, I've also mentioned many times how I believe the Internet saved short fiction and poetry, both of which had lost ground to popular novels.
But Digital Nation isn't just about laptops. It's about laptops and Blackberries, cellphones and iPhones, texting, IMing, watching videos, playing games, Facebooking, Twittering, and more––all at the same time. It's about professors competing with whatever else students can have up on their laptop screens––that the profs can't see––and Tweet time competing with homework time. It's about being in constant contact and entertainment mode every waking hour and waking hours extending into sleep hours in order to keep up with it. It's about being on call 24/7.
Many of us who did not grow up with these constant distractions have convinced ourselves there is nothing wrong with learning this way. Inherent in this thinking is the assumption kids are learning, and maybe they are, though the studies I mentioned at the outset say differently. Maybe the study was biased in some way or the yardstick isn't appropriate. Still, there are two types of learning. There is learning facts that can be regurgitated on a test and there is learning to think and problem solve. These latter require the ability to stay with a subject for an extended period and being able to link thoughts together to form a logical conclusion. That's what we're losing in this digital age, and not just among kids, but among many middle-aged individuals who have bought into the digital barrage as well.
Reading doesn't have to be in print, but reading book length works of fiction or nonfiction trains our minds to move slowly and stick with a project to its finish. The ability to concentrate separates older children from younger; adults from teens. It's the reason why adults, generally, tend to act less impulsively than kids. Reading the original piece also teaches us to go deeper into issues and form our own opinions. Cliff notes, on the other hand, tell us what the story is about and how we are supposed to interpret it.
Extremely well written paragraphs or 140 character Tweets are great, but I have yet to see a truly complicated and nuanced matter that can be expressed without stringing paragraphs together. Seeing a problem as fragmented pieces will not help solve it. Indeed, it can add to he confusion and overwhelm.
I'm not sure I have an answer to this. Can you turn back the clock? Probably not, but I wonder if, at some point, these kids might reach the breaking point. My generation––Boomers––lived by the TV schedule growing up. Yet many of us started turning off the TVs when we got older. Maybe our kids will start turning off their phones at dinner time or lift their eyes from the screen to notice the sunrise one morning and be transformed.
As for me, I'm sticking with the land line and cell use only for emergencies. I keep the buds out of my ears when I go for my morning walk. At night I read a book.
Apropos to this blog is something I have long suspected, which is how all this constant digital interaction affects reading and writing. One college student said he never reads books anymore, but refers to the "Cliff Notes." And as far as writing goes, studies have shown that students at the better colleges are able to write excellent paragraphs but unable to put those paragraphs together into a cogent argument. Anecdotally, many students agreed.
Considering the theme of my blog, I certainly don't need to point out I am not some old fogey who hates change. The Internet improved my life both as a writer and a reader. It has provided me with opportunities, like editing for literary journals, that I could otherwise never have dreamed of. On a less personal note, I've also mentioned many times how I believe the Internet saved short fiction and poetry, both of which had lost ground to popular novels.
But Digital Nation isn't just about laptops. It's about laptops and Blackberries, cellphones and iPhones, texting, IMing, watching videos, playing games, Facebooking, Twittering, and more––all at the same time. It's about professors competing with whatever else students can have up on their laptop screens––that the profs can't see––and Tweet time competing with homework time. It's about being in constant contact and entertainment mode every waking hour and waking hours extending into sleep hours in order to keep up with it. It's about being on call 24/7.
Many of us who did not grow up with these constant distractions have convinced ourselves there is nothing wrong with learning this way. Inherent in this thinking is the assumption kids are learning, and maybe they are, though the studies I mentioned at the outset say differently. Maybe the study was biased in some way or the yardstick isn't appropriate. Still, there are two types of learning. There is learning facts that can be regurgitated on a test and there is learning to think and problem solve. These latter require the ability to stay with a subject for an extended period and being able to link thoughts together to form a logical conclusion. That's what we're losing in this digital age, and not just among kids, but among many middle-aged individuals who have bought into the digital barrage as well.
Reading doesn't have to be in print, but reading book length works of fiction or nonfiction trains our minds to move slowly and stick with a project to its finish. The ability to concentrate separates older children from younger; adults from teens. It's the reason why adults, generally, tend to act less impulsively than kids. Reading the original piece also teaches us to go deeper into issues and form our own opinions. Cliff notes, on the other hand, tell us what the story is about and how we are supposed to interpret it.
Extremely well written paragraphs or 140 character Tweets are great, but I have yet to see a truly complicated and nuanced matter that can be expressed without stringing paragraphs together. Seeing a problem as fragmented pieces will not help solve it. Indeed, it can add to he confusion and overwhelm.
I'm not sure I have an answer to this. Can you turn back the clock? Probably not, but I wonder if, at some point, these kids might reach the breaking point. My generation––Boomers––lived by the TV schedule growing up. Yet many of us started turning off the TVs when we got older. Maybe our kids will start turning off their phones at dinner time or lift their eyes from the screen to notice the sunrise one morning and be transformed.
As for me, I'm sticking with the land line and cell use only for emergencies. I keep the buds out of my ears when I go for my morning walk. At night I read a book.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Never Say You're Sorry About What You Like to Read
Here's another article advocating that kids reading what they want, instead of what adults think they should, is a much better way to get them hooked on the habit. Hard to believe 40 years after Love Story was published, it's just as controversial and just as popular.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
E-reading News
Can Apple Save the Written Word?
I thought Google was doing that. Oh wait, I guess they are just preserving it. Anyway more speculation on Apple's new e-reader that doesn't even have a name yet. Yikes, $1000. That's quite a lot of books and magazines and newspapers. Then again, it will be a reader and computer all in one from what I can tell, but I still need the one here on my desk because I don't think I can write on that thing. Maybe it will be like the iPhone and come down in price immediately. According to the P&W website, Apple's new iWhatever is due to be unveiled tomorrow. Way to upstage the Prez on his first State of the Union. Though something tells me the State of Apple is way better anyway.
Here's another good post on Enhanced e-Books, what publishers will be adding to e-books to make them more tantalizing––and expensive–-to readers. It puts me in mind of when DVDs first came out. Remember the "Easter Eggs"? Those special hidden features? Do they still have those? If they do, does anyone look for them? I think the idea was to wean the public away from VHS. Now that you can't find VHS anymore that's no problem.
It looks like there will be much in store for reading in the very near future when reading may very well be something only the wealthy can afford.
I thought Google was doing that. Oh wait, I guess they are just preserving it. Anyway more speculation on Apple's new e-reader that doesn't even have a name yet. Yikes, $1000. That's quite a lot of books and magazines and newspapers. Then again, it will be a reader and computer all in one from what I can tell, but I still need the one here on my desk because I don't think I can write on that thing. Maybe it will be like the iPhone and come down in price immediately. According to the P&W website, Apple's new iWhatever is due to be unveiled tomorrow. Way to upstage the Prez on his first State of the Union. Though something tells me the State of Apple is way better anyway.
Here's another good post on Enhanced e-Books, what publishers will be adding to e-books to make them more tantalizing––and expensive–-to readers. It puts me in mind of when DVDs first came out. Remember the "Easter Eggs"? Those special hidden features? Do they still have those? If they do, does anyone look for them? I think the idea was to wean the public away from VHS. Now that you can't find VHS anymore that's no problem.
It looks like there will be much in store for reading in the very near future when reading may very well be something only the wealthy can afford.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Submission Fees Revisited: Should Journals That Charge Submission Fees Level the Playing Field
In the Poets & Writers; Writers Speakeasy Forum where I enjoy discussing writerly matters with other writers of more or less success (usually more), the topic of submission fees re-emerged. I started the first thread around the time I wrote an earlier post regarding submission fees at Narrative. Since that posting it has become more common for journals that accept online submissions to charge, though it is mostly a minor sum of around $2 rather than the heftier $20 fee Narrative charges.
Submitters who don't mind paying the fee, and often the publications themselves, point out that $2 is about what you could expect to spend on a postal submission, with which I would agree. I don't do postal much anymore, but last time I did, before the most recent rate increase, I spent $1.80 to mail a twenty-page story. Add in the required SASE and it goes over $2.00 not counting paper and envelopes. Fair enough.
Those publications that use online submission systems also point out that the charge helps defray the cost of the system. According to the CLMP website, their submissions manager–-which I believe is the one most publications probably use unless they have an IT whiz on staff––costs a minimum of $330. At $2 a pop it would take only 165 submissions to cover the cost––probably less than half of what most literary publications receive in a month, let alone the top ones. Still, journals have other costs. Top editors at the "best" journals get paid, and since most of the top tier are either exclusively or mainly in print, there are printing and shipping costs. Obviously, subscriptions and individual sales don't meet these costs or they wouldn't be constantly soliciting donations.
Exclusively online journals are much less expensive to run, but there are still costs involved, and there is pretty much no way to make any income off subscriptions or individual sales because, as much as they enjoy the convenience and variety online, most people don't want to pay for something they can't hold in their hands. That's why the majority of exclusively online journals don't pay a penny to staff, though many are trying to pay at least a token amount to writers sometimes through ad fees.
All of which is what has brought us to the point where publications, both print and online, have begun experimenting with submission fees. In some ways it seems odd to charge the producer of the product rather than the consumer but then again, writers have very little overhead. Most business people have to invest some money in getting their product on the market and then, as with writers, must wait to see if anyone buys it. So why not ask writers who, up until now, have had only to invest in paper and pencils and a good laptop (and who doesn't need a laptop these days, writer or no) to invest a mere $2 toward getting their work published?
Putting all that together and knowing from my work with online publications that journals are going to need to be pretty creative when it comes to paying staff and writers, I have no problem with the submission fee system except one. It seems unconscionable to implement such a system while continuing the current selection process that favors known writers and their proteges. Most of whom, I'm guessing, don't pay a penny to submit. Under the current system swarms of individuals with as much chance of getting published as Frosty the Snowman in July, pay their money so writers almost assured of being accepted get paid well. Not only does that not seem fair, it borders on being a scam.
I'm not saying journals should ever accept bad writing, only that journals requiring submissions fees should charge everyone the same and make sure everyone has the same chance of being accepted. This could easily be accomplished through a system of anonymous review with no comments or cover letters.
Up until now the rationale for the current system has been that big names sell. Every editor would love to pluck a new star from the West Virginia coal mines, but alas, their hands are tied by the need for money (shrug, sigh). But if money came from submissions and not subscriptions that rationale goes down the toilet. Certainly more people would submit, and thus profits would increase, if they knew they had an equal chance of acceptance. Maybe the big names and the Iowa graduates would still rise to the top, but at least we'd know they started in the same place as everyone else.
Submitters who don't mind paying the fee, and often the publications themselves, point out that $2 is about what you could expect to spend on a postal submission, with which I would agree. I don't do postal much anymore, but last time I did, before the most recent rate increase, I spent $1.80 to mail a twenty-page story. Add in the required SASE and it goes over $2.00 not counting paper and envelopes. Fair enough.
Those publications that use online submission systems also point out that the charge helps defray the cost of the system. According to the CLMP website, their submissions manager–-which I believe is the one most publications probably use unless they have an IT whiz on staff––costs a minimum of $330. At $2 a pop it would take only 165 submissions to cover the cost––probably less than half of what most literary publications receive in a month, let alone the top ones. Still, journals have other costs. Top editors at the "best" journals get paid, and since most of the top tier are either exclusively or mainly in print, there are printing and shipping costs. Obviously, subscriptions and individual sales don't meet these costs or they wouldn't be constantly soliciting donations.
Exclusively online journals are much less expensive to run, but there are still costs involved, and there is pretty much no way to make any income off subscriptions or individual sales because, as much as they enjoy the convenience and variety online, most people don't want to pay for something they can't hold in their hands. That's why the majority of exclusively online journals don't pay a penny to staff, though many are trying to pay at least a token amount to writers sometimes through ad fees.
All of which is what has brought us to the point where publications, both print and online, have begun experimenting with submission fees. In some ways it seems odd to charge the producer of the product rather than the consumer but then again, writers have very little overhead. Most business people have to invest some money in getting their product on the market and then, as with writers, must wait to see if anyone buys it. So why not ask writers who, up until now, have had only to invest in paper and pencils and a good laptop (and who doesn't need a laptop these days, writer or no) to invest a mere $2 toward getting their work published?
Putting all that together and knowing from my work with online publications that journals are going to need to be pretty creative when it comes to paying staff and writers, I have no problem with the submission fee system except one. It seems unconscionable to implement such a system while continuing the current selection process that favors known writers and their proteges. Most of whom, I'm guessing, don't pay a penny to submit. Under the current system swarms of individuals with as much chance of getting published as Frosty the Snowman in July, pay their money so writers almost assured of being accepted get paid well. Not only does that not seem fair, it borders on being a scam.
I'm not saying journals should ever accept bad writing, only that journals requiring submissions fees should charge everyone the same and make sure everyone has the same chance of being accepted. This could easily be accomplished through a system of anonymous review with no comments or cover letters.
Up until now the rationale for the current system has been that big names sell. Every editor would love to pluck a new star from the West Virginia coal mines, but alas, their hands are tied by the need for money (shrug, sigh). But if money came from submissions and not subscriptions that rationale goes down the toilet. Certainly more people would submit, and thus profits would increase, if they knew they had an equal chance of acceptance. Maybe the big names and the Iowa graduates would still rise to the top, but at least we'd know they started in the same place as everyone else.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Sotto Voce: The Elephant on This Blog
Like the proverbial elephant in the room that everyone tries to ignore, inactivity on the Sotto Voce site hangs over this blog like an inconvenient truth. As of now SV appears to be one of those Live Sites/Dead Markets I complained about last May, and I've thought long and hard over whether and how I should address it.
My first thought was to go through and erase all traces of my endorsements, but on a blog devoted to promoting online journals that felt somewhat dishonest. At the same time, for all those people who have contacted me after poring over my interview with Emily Thorp hoping to find an answer, I have none, nor do the other staff members I've e-mailed, and of course the interview was back in November 2008 when all of us associated with this new and unique journal were riding high on the first issue.
Still I feel it is time to face the music. Not that I had any responsibility for the creation or administration of SV. I started out as a reviewer––a position I asked for because I found the whole format innovative and exciting–-and would have begun serving as Assistant Editor for the next issue. That didn't give me any say over everyday functions, but as someone who has spent the last 10 years trying to convince people that online publishing is every bit as good, or better than, print, a journal I've been associated with playing into the easy-come-easy-go image some still have of online publishing feels like a black eye.
What bothers me most,though, is that SV was a perfect mix of the best aspects of print and online publishing. The senior staff were well-credentialed and most had or were pursuing MFAs. Yet each submission automatically shot out to 15 or 20 vetted reviewers of varying backgrounds who rated each piece on a scale from 1-5 and added comments. Those comments were considered for the editing of accepted pieces and were included with rejected pieces so submitters could actually find out why a piece didn't make the cut. Finally, and best of all, was an anonymous review system. Even the Managing Editor did not know the name of the submitter or his or her credentials until it was time to send out responses. Playing fields don't get any leveler than that. The icing on that cake was a nice little payment.
That's not to denigrate solid online journals that don't have these features. It required a sophisticated online submission and distribution system designed by someone who, I believe, donated her time. And all publications want to pay contributors, they just can't afford to self-fund as Emily did. That's what makes this such a loss to the online community. All the stars aligned to produce something great. Only they turned out to be shooting stars that burnt out before crashing to earth.
In the meantime I will be back with some of my old friends at The Rose & Thorn that, while sporting a new look, still holds to the same values it has for over ten years: giving new and emerging writers a chance and, even if their system doesn't block the names out, choosing pieces solely based on quality and not on the writer's name or the school they attended or the other journals they've appeared in. Sometimes tried and true is better than new and innovative.
My first thought was to go through and erase all traces of my endorsements, but on a blog devoted to promoting online journals that felt somewhat dishonest. At the same time, for all those people who have contacted me after poring over my interview with Emily Thorp hoping to find an answer, I have none, nor do the other staff members I've e-mailed, and of course the interview was back in November 2008 when all of us associated with this new and unique journal were riding high on the first issue.
Still I feel it is time to face the music. Not that I had any responsibility for the creation or administration of SV. I started out as a reviewer––a position I asked for because I found the whole format innovative and exciting–-and would have begun serving as Assistant Editor for the next issue. That didn't give me any say over everyday functions, but as someone who has spent the last 10 years trying to convince people that online publishing is every bit as good, or better than, print, a journal I've been associated with playing into the easy-come-easy-go image some still have of online publishing feels like a black eye.
What bothers me most,though, is that SV was a perfect mix of the best aspects of print and online publishing. The senior staff were well-credentialed and most had or were pursuing MFAs. Yet each submission automatically shot out to 15 or 20 vetted reviewers of varying backgrounds who rated each piece on a scale from 1-5 and added comments. Those comments were considered for the editing of accepted pieces and were included with rejected pieces so submitters could actually find out why a piece didn't make the cut. Finally, and best of all, was an anonymous review system. Even the Managing Editor did not know the name of the submitter or his or her credentials until it was time to send out responses. Playing fields don't get any leveler than that. The icing on that cake was a nice little payment.
That's not to denigrate solid online journals that don't have these features. It required a sophisticated online submission and distribution system designed by someone who, I believe, donated her time. And all publications want to pay contributors, they just can't afford to self-fund as Emily did. That's what makes this such a loss to the online community. All the stars aligned to produce something great. Only they turned out to be shooting stars that burnt out before crashing to earth.
In the meantime I will be back with some of my old friends at The Rose & Thorn that, while sporting a new look, still holds to the same values it has for over ten years: giving new and emerging writers a chance and, even if their system doesn't block the names out, choosing pieces solely based on quality and not on the writer's name or the school they attended or the other journals they've appeared in. Sometimes tried and true is better than new and innovative.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Writing for Suite 101: My Guilty Pleasure
There are always people out there telling you what you should and shouldn't do as a writer. When I first started out new writers were criticized for writing for free. If we all stuck to that model now, most of our work would never see the light of day. Some will tell you never to pay for anything related to submissions, but then you 'd limit yourself to contests that carry little prestige and even less in prizes.
A while back I wrote about my experiences with a pay-per-click site, and how some writers think they are a bad idea. Well, bad or not, I've decided to go back to writing for Suite 101 and I am loving it. No, writing for pay-per-clicks will probably not get me a job with The New York Times or maybe not even with my community newspaper, and despite anomalies like the Suite writer who made almost $5,000 in one month, it probably won't put my daughter through grad school or even pay my grocery bill–-at least not the topics I write about. What it does get me is the opportunity to write on subjects I love but for which I do not have a "platform" as they call it in the business, and the chance to earn a few dollars while I'm at it.
When I delve into a subject, I go deep. While I never advanced beyond a BA in History, my studies imbued me with a need to go well beyond the surface. What started 10 years ago with Mari Sandoz's biography of Crazy Horse has grown into several hundred books on, not just American Indian and US Western History, but an understanding of current issues and the ability to argue some of the finer points of American Indian Law––that's what happens when you cross a wannabe historian with a wannabe lawyer. I've written book reviews for scholarly journals like Montana, the Magazine of Western History (which did feel pretty cool), but with no advanced degree or teaching position at a university, I'm not likely to get much published on that subject. That's why I took up writing on Native American/First Nations History on Suite a few years ago.
Unfortunately the 10 article per month requirement for a Feature Writer (one who writes for and maintains the topic site) became onerous, especially for a meticulous researcher and fact checker like myself. Plus, even my deep well began to run dry. However, now Suite has something called a Contributing Writer. Not only are the production requirements less but CWs can contribute to any topic, meaning I can also write about writing and publishing–-think I know a wee bit about that––politics, healthcare, running a small business or any other topic on which I have something of value to contribute.
For me, Suite fills several needs:
A while back I wrote about my experiences with a pay-per-click site, and how some writers think they are a bad idea. Well, bad or not, I've decided to go back to writing for Suite 101 and I am loving it. No, writing for pay-per-clicks will probably not get me a job with The New York Times or maybe not even with my community newspaper, and despite anomalies like the Suite writer who made almost $5,000 in one month, it probably won't put my daughter through grad school or even pay my grocery bill–-at least not the topics I write about. What it does get me is the opportunity to write on subjects I love but for which I do not have a "platform" as they call it in the business, and the chance to earn a few dollars while I'm at it.
When I delve into a subject, I go deep. While I never advanced beyond a BA in History, my studies imbued me with a need to go well beyond the surface. What started 10 years ago with Mari Sandoz's biography of Crazy Horse has grown into several hundred books on, not just American Indian and US Western History, but an understanding of current issues and the ability to argue some of the finer points of American Indian Law––that's what happens when you cross a wannabe historian with a wannabe lawyer. I've written book reviews for scholarly journals like Montana, the Magazine of Western History (which did feel pretty cool), but with no advanced degree or teaching position at a university, I'm not likely to get much published on that subject. That's why I took up writing on Native American/First Nations History on Suite a few years ago.
Unfortunately the 10 article per month requirement for a Feature Writer (one who writes for and maintains the topic site) became onerous, especially for a meticulous researcher and fact checker like myself. Plus, even my deep well began to run dry. However, now Suite has something called a Contributing Writer. Not only are the production requirements less but CWs can contribute to any topic, meaning I can also write about writing and publishing–-think I know a wee bit about that––politics, healthcare, running a small business or any other topic on which I have something of value to contribute.
For me, Suite fills several needs:
- My need to write and express myself on various topics.
- My need to learn, because I always learn when I am researching details for an article.
- My need to be read, because otherwise what is the point of writing.
Maybe with more articles up on topics of greater interest, my earnings will increase too, but really the pittance I make is icing on the cake. I know that drives some professional freelancers nuts, and I won't even try to defend it except to say, I love it. I'm hooked, and others can jump up and down and scream until they are blue in the face.
Call it my guilty pleasure.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
E-reading: Are We Forgetting the Little Ones?
All the discussion about e-reading, whether online or on a device, seems to focus on the comfort/convenience of the reader or the profits of the publisher. Until I read this letter in Indian Country Today about pediatricians "breaking the cycle of poverty" by giving away books during well child visits I never thought about an important demographic being overlooked––kids––and not just the ones from low-income families though they will, of course, suffer most.
"Today in the United States, there are more than 11 million children aged 5 and under who are living in poverty. Millions of these children will arrive at their first day of kindergarten bright, eager, and happy – but with deficits in their reading readiness that leave them underprepared to read and learn. Sadly, starting one step behind decreases the likelihood that those smiling, eager children will ever catch up. Once behind these children are at increased risk for absenteeism, dropping out, juvenile delinquency, substance abuse, and teenage pregnancy."Obviously, I'm a big promoter of online publishing, and I have complained before on this blog about too many studies on the reading habits of young adults equating reading with books and ignoring reading done online. So far I've passed on the Kindle based on price and a premonition that it will soon become a relic as better readers untethered by a single retailer hit the markets, but I'm resigned to the inevitable march toward e-reading, and, honestly, don't feel those same tactile connections to print so many fuss about. However, this article got me thinking about children and what effect the digital age could have on their first contact with the written word.
I recall an elderly aunt attempting to introduce my then two-year-old daughter to Winnie-the-Pooh through the original chapter book by AA Milne. While she later came to cherish that book and read it and re-read it, as a toddler my daughter couldn't focus on a book with more words than pictures. Reluctantly I gave in to purchasing the bastardized Disney versions with the fatter, yellower, cartoon Pooh until she reached the age where she could focus on pages of words with few illustrations . There lies the problem, or at least as I see it, with kids and e-reading.
I'm relying on personal experience so I could be all wet here, but it strikes me that even if a toddler did have the dexterity to "turn" pages on a laptop or e-reader, and even if you didn't mind having your $300 Kindle double as a teething ring, could a child ever be engrossed by an e-reader version of Goodnight Moon ? And then there's the sense of ownership. Children own their books like few other things in their young lives. My daughter used her favorite books as a form of bonding, thrusting them into the hands of a person to whom she'd taken a liking, climbing into that person's lap and asking to be read to before she could even form words. Sitting with a book can also be a form of self-entertainment, one of the few things a toddler can choose to do alone. We all know how children will memorize entire books,page for page and word for word, at a young age, and claim to "read" them to us. Is all that possible with a laptop or e-reader?
While I haven't heard this issue discussed much, I imagine there could be some movement to continue printing books for the pre-school set, but what would such a small, specialized product cost? Already children of wealthier and better-educated parents get a jump on their education. Could this make that divide even worse? Then again, will better-off parents who grew up assuming New+Technology=Better Life even consider that an old traditional form of reading might be better for their kids? Or will they force e-reading on them as the better way, not to mention more convenient for the parent?
I am certainly no expert in child development. My concerns could be empty. Maybe reading on a Kindle is every bit as good for a child as reading a Golden Book. Maybe reading on devices will lure children into reading as much or more than books.
I'd be interested in know your thoughts, especially the teachers out there.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
New Year's Resolutions 2010
Beneath my Happy New Year article this year, under "You might also like" perhaps you clicked on New Year's Resolutions for Writers posted last New Year. I had forgotten all about that one.
Let's see, of all those resolutions the one I have stuck to most is "submitting more." In the past year I have regularly had at least three stories circulating to several markets at a time. I can't say this has greatly improved my success rate, but it does help keep my spirits up as there are always markets out there I haven't heard from yet.
The lack of improvement in my success rate can probably be linked to the resolution I have been worst at sticking to––better researching and targeting of markets. While having several stories in my portfolio at any one time allows me to choose the one best suited for a publication I've just discovered, I still don't go deep enough into the markets I research, tending to submit after reading just one issue instead of the recommended two or three. And when it comes to print markets, sometimes submitting before the first sample issue even arrives in my mailbox. This doesn't mean I don't read more than one issue, I simply can't force myself to wait that long to submit. Also, I suspect I am just not that good at analyzing stories anyway. I know what I like, but the nuance that might attract an editor to one story over another still eludes me.
Did I spend more time reading current fiction? Yes and no. I have started alternating fiction and nonfiction or reading both together. Not simultaneously, of course, but sometimes I split my evening reading time between two books or trade off nights. Not all of that is the most current fiction, but joining the Amazon Vine program has encouraged me to read at least some new things like Lorrie Moore's newest novel. Also, while I allowed my subscription to The New Yorker to lapse, I read a friend's copy every month while working out, and as I've noted, been pleasantly surprised at the recent change in tone.
One resolution, though, hit me like a brick in the face, and perhaps it was good I read it when I did.
So how did you do on last year's resolutions? Have you made any for 2010?
The great thing about a blog is I can come back here next year and see what I wrote. Will I have kept my resolutions or will I be like those people who crowd the gym every January and disappear with the first crocus?I waited well past the first crocus and into the next year before I checked it out. So how did I do? Well, I'm still exercising regularly and eating right. Oh wait, those were things I didn't need to resolve to do. Are you getting the idea I'm hedging?
Let's see, of all those resolutions the one I have stuck to most is "submitting more." In the past year I have regularly had at least three stories circulating to several markets at a time. I can't say this has greatly improved my success rate, but it does help keep my spirits up as there are always markets out there I haven't heard from yet.
The lack of improvement in my success rate can probably be linked to the resolution I have been worst at sticking to––better researching and targeting of markets. While having several stories in my portfolio at any one time allows me to choose the one best suited for a publication I've just discovered, I still don't go deep enough into the markets I research, tending to submit after reading just one issue instead of the recommended two or three. And when it comes to print markets, sometimes submitting before the first sample issue even arrives in my mailbox. This doesn't mean I don't read more than one issue, I simply can't force myself to wait that long to submit. Also, I suspect I am just not that good at analyzing stories anyway. I know what I like, but the nuance that might attract an editor to one story over another still eludes me.
Did I spend more time reading current fiction? Yes and no. I have started alternating fiction and nonfiction or reading both together. Not simultaneously, of course, but sometimes I split my evening reading time between two books or trade off nights. Not all of that is the most current fiction, but joining the Amazon Vine program has encouraged me to read at least some new things like Lorrie Moore's newest novel. Also, while I allowed my subscription to The New Yorker to lapse, I read a friend's copy every month while working out, and as I've noted, been pleasantly surprised at the recent change in tone.
One resolution, though, hit me like a brick in the face, and perhaps it was good I read it when I did.
RESOLVED to focus most of my creativity on my writing.In connection with that one I vowed, "each time I join a new volunteer organization I'm determined to remain only a foot soldier." I kept that resolution pretty well...until a couple of weeks ago when I began considering perhaps one of the biggest volunteer commitments of my life––a please-won't-somebody-talk-me-out-of-this kind of commitment. Should I or shouldn't I? Circumstances will not allow me to divulge details at this point, but perhaps fate steered me to that old post for a reason.
So how did you do on last year's resolutions? Have you made any for 2010?
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Observations on Lead-Led?
Last time I checked lead, pronounced with a short e, was a metallic substance and not the past tense of lead––long e. So why do I read lead so often where I should be reading led, not just in submissions but in respected newspapers?
"The suspect lead police on a high-speed chase."
Perhaps it is because it just doesn't look right? As a little three-letter word, led does seem more the proper spelling for the metal, while lead/lead appears to follow the rules of read/read. Though if red were the proper past tense of read, I'd be less likely to misread it as I often do. And now with LED, in caps, becoming common in referring to environmentally friendly lighting, we have another confusion thrown into the mix.
Going by how often I see lead where I should see led, I'm guessing the little word may be on the verge of becoming obsolete just as the term comprised of has come to replace the more proper comprised. As in, "the town comprised a courthouse and three shops"––only purists insist on that now––or the way the em-dash (as used in this sentence) has become more popular than parentheses or the word media is used by the media as both singular and plural.
In the end I predict led will lose because, after all, lead carries more weight.
"The suspect lead police on a high-speed chase."
Perhaps it is because it just doesn't look right? As a little three-letter word, led does seem more the proper spelling for the metal, while lead/lead appears to follow the rules of read/read. Though if red were the proper past tense of read, I'd be less likely to misread it as I often do. And now with LED, in caps, becoming common in referring to environmentally friendly lighting, we have another confusion thrown into the mix.
Going by how often I see lead where I should see led, I'm guessing the little word may be on the verge of becoming obsolete just as the term comprised of has come to replace the more proper comprised. As in, "the town comprised a courthouse and three shops"––only purists insist on that now––or the way the em-dash (as used in this sentence) has become more popular than parentheses or the word media is used by the media as both singular and plural.
In the end I predict led will lose because, after all, lead carries more weight.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Social Networking: Do You Do It? Where, Why, and How?
Do you frequent social networking sites? If so, which ones? Why, and how do you use them? To keep up with friends? To make professional contacts? I'm curious because this is one aspect of the Internet I just can't warm up to.
My readers must know by now that while I am old, I am not an old fogey. I have embraced the internet from the days when it took its first baby steps beyond the world of cyber-geeks. I joined the very earliest reviewers on Amazon back when they sold only books and public reviewing made them unique. I jumped into discussion forums in a big way, and I'm sure I don't need to mention how I championed online publications long before they cut into print's bottom line. I would also say I do a lot of networking online, but not at networking sites. I blog and visit and comment on other blogs. I've gone through several different website formats. I advertise my editing business, CROSSxCHECKING online, but there's something about those social sites I just can't get into.
First there was Facebook, begun by college kids to help other college kids stay in touch with high school friends and meet new people. It began just around the time my daughter left for college and remained the purview of the younger set until about a year ago when it suddenly exploded with adults posting profiles and searching for old friends. MySpace is pretty much the same though my daughter tells me it originally attracted the younger or non-collegiate set. I hadn't quite gotten used to either of those when everyone, young and old, started using Twitter, where you can gab the day away by keeping it down to 140 characters.
I have a profile on all these sites by default. Some group, organization, or publication I was associated with posted a profile and in order to become a follower or friend I needed to join. Search my page and you will find, almost exclusively, messages about political causes I support where the organization sent me an e-mail where all I needed to do was click on the link for the message to appear on my site for my handful of followers to read. Or at least I think that's how it works. For all I know my Tweets may be going out to the entire world.
It really isn't that I have anything against these sites per se, but there are several things keeping me away. One is the learning curve. They never seem to provide simple instructions on how it works. Mostly you learn through trial and error. When the Rose & Thorn went on Facebook I sent out more requests than a needy kindergartener to become a friend thinking it somehow didn't take because I wasn't informed immediately. And Twitter, don't even get me started about how arcane that system is.
The main reason though is, I haven't quite figured out why I should. In the past months I've received messages from acquaintances or former acquaintances who want to be my friend on Facebook. Some of them have my e-mail or phone number, so, um, why do we need to go to some other site to communicate? As for those with whom I've lost touch, like maybe there was a reason? Now I'm reading all the time about how Twitter provides a great tool for writers. You can advertise your own work, and it's supposed to have taken the place of classifieds for finding jobs. But I can't figure out how my ads are going to stand out in the cacophony, and as for the search end, that's another whole thing to figure out. I'm sure I could if I spent enough time, but, frankly, I don't know that I particularly want to. As a writer I already spend enough time I could otherwise use writing on Internet activities someone has convinced me are necessary like, yes, blogging and maintaining my website, and chatting in forums.
But there's a side of me that feels a little guilty about this. Am I falling behind? Have I really made a reasoned decision or am I just afraid of the unknown? Is shunning Tweets the middle-aged equivalent of my Mom shunning e-mail? Am I turning into a curmudgeon or simply trying to make better use of my time?
So, what do you think?
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