Taking a Peek at the Other Side

decisions, decisions

For the past few weeks I have written very little and read a lot. The change of pace was due, in part, to a Texas road trip that took us from art museums (Fort Worth) to canyons and bisons (Palo Duro, Caprock), with swings through cool towns (Abilene) and semi-ghostly old train stops. Some of that will eventually find its way in a story or two when the red dust settles. Gotta shake it out of my sneakers … I could have written during the resting days between hikes, you’ll say. Well, that’s where the second part of my writing pause comes into play.

I am guest editor at Punk Noir Magazine for the month of June. That means reading a boatload of stories, poems, and essays. Reading, re-reading, pondering, weighing, picking and choosing. Making some people happy and disappointing others. Because the pieces that landed in the mailbox (90 in one week, the length of the submission window) were excellent. We’re very lucky at Punk to get so much talent showing up for each of our themed submissions.

It’s the second time I take this kind of trip to “the other side” of the publishing tango. Usually I’m one of the hopeful writers sending a story to the bug-eyed and overwhelmed editors. I tip my hat to all of them. They’re a resilient bunch.

The experience is priceless. I believe it makes me a better writer. Anybody who has edited or reviewed another person’s work knows that it’s a lot easier to see the nits and gnats in somebody else’s writing than in one’s own—less of an emotional investment and no blinders. That cold eye.

The magazine’s name being Punk Noir, I know the kind of material a submission call will summon. Crime, transgressive fiction, dark, often with a twinkle of humor. Punk doesn’t get a lot of fluffy cats or adorbs rodents. If they show up, they’re likely to be of the Cheshire or Mousetrap variety. Romance happens but it seldom ends in happily ever after.

The June theme, “Obsession”, all genres welcome, was ready-made for dusk-to-dawn tales. It was a great crop all over. Warm thanks to all that participated.

Inevitably, when making a choice, personal preferences come into play. There’s a reason why Punk has five editors taking turns. We each bring our own tastes to the spicy stew. If I say “no”, Steve, Barb, James, or Scott might very well yell “yeah.”

Poetry, for instance, is a hard sell for me. I love a narrative. I want something to happen in a story and words by themselves, however carefully chosen for their evocative power, seldom satisfy my hunger. It harks back to bedtime Tell me a story, Mommy!

Quite a few poems came in for this submission call. Well aware of my reluctance, I set them aside to read again slowly. The ones I selected are special. I’m definitely not an expert but I feel good about my picks. These pieces made me step outside my comfort zone. They’re being posted now. Here’s one of them: The Heir, by Dimitri Ferraz.

When it comes to fiction, some literary devices rub me the wrong way. I definitely don’t like stories told in second person. They go like this:

You know how this relationship will end. He will tell you that he’ll love you forever and take you for all you’ve got. The money in the purse, the savings in the cookie jar. You’ll want to kick him out and he’ll plead, and you’ll give in. Again. And again.

The text above doesn’t come from a story submission. I just made it up.
A couple of lines are bearable, but a complete story (or an entire novel!) in that voice is guaranteed to send me up the wall. It’s as irritating as hearing hospital personnel talk to you in the collective “we”. You know what I mean: How are we today? Are we feeling all right? I was in a restaurant a few days ago with Jim and the server addressed us like that. It made me want to bite her.
Unless it’s pure genius, a second person point of view story will end crumpled in the dust bin. Sorry folks.

Repetitive sentence structures also get my hackles up. Here’s an example (not from an actual story):

Clipping the leash on the dog’s collar, she took a tentative step into the street. Skirting the garbage bin, she made her way to the park. Smiling, she waved at her friend Nora.

I’m bored already. Are you?

When agents or publishers ask for a query letter and the first five pages of a book (included in the body of the email), I roll my eyes. How can they base their decision on five measly pages out of three hundred? Well, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa, I recognize the error of my ways. Sometimes it only takes three paragraphs to know the read will be a plodding slog. And it’s a pity, because there might be good stuff in there.

Repetitive sentence structures, passive voice, fillers, too many words that end in “ing”, a plethora of adverbs, funky dialog tags. I keep a cheat sheet next to my computer to remind myself when I revise my own stuff.

As usual, it’s the problems that stick out. So, what makes a good story, what will deliver a slam-dunk acceptance for publication?

Honestly, I don’t know. Did the piece catch my attention, was I intrigued, did I smile (or shiver, or gasp), did the writing move at a good clip—in 2000 words max, about 8 pages double-spaced, there isn’t much time to run around the block—is the ending earned, have I read the same story before … that’s a tough one because it all depends on the execution.

Publishing is a subjective business indeed.

About a third of the pieces sent for the “Obsession” call will be published. Punk Noir aims to support emerging and indie authors, and give readers a chance to discover new voices, people who may not have had a publication credit before.

Head over there to have a look. The pieces I selected will be published all through the month of June.

This one went up yesterday: “Worth It” by Chris L. Robinson. I know you’ll enjoy it.

I had a banner month of May …

All these are free to read, a click away.

Mr. Nakamura. Is it horror, romance, myth, or a conversation about life and loneliness? I am very fond of this one. Published by Roi Fainéant Press.

Weight Unsaid, published by A Thin Slice of Anxiety. A story of silence and nagging guilt. But did anything happen or is it all imaginary?

Because the Baby, at Punk Noir Magazine, is betrayal in 200 words. You can say a lot in such a small bite.