Submit, submit!

Last year, there was an inspiring piece on The Review Review called "Yes, Your Submission Phobia is Holding You Back". Having published short fiction at an embarrassingly low rate since 2010 (1 a year - go me!), one sentence in particular stuck out: "You think rejection is proof that you have no talent or that the work is no good. Actually, the only thing a rejection proves is that you sent out your work." 

2013 has been the first year ever - ever - when I've had stories plural published (here, in the LS13 anthology, and here, in the Willesden Herald anthology). And it's still only June! I'm hoping to have at least two more published before the end of the year. The only way I can improve my embarrassing strike rate of 1 story per year, I realised, was to get my work off my hard drive and out into the world. 

So, I developed a system. Being something of a systems nerd (there's no cure, apparently), I worked out a way of tracking submissions using a spreadsheet*. Doing this helps the whole process so much less painful. I am sharing this spreadsheet with you, everybody on the whole of the internet, because I'm nice like that. 

In day to day internet browsing, I keep an eye out for submission opportunities. If I see a competition I want to enter, or a lit mag with its submission window open, I add it to my spreadsheet in the lower columns, making a note of the closing date and word limit. If I think one of the stories I have ready is worth trying in one of these competitions, I put the magazine's name next to that story title. (see spreadsheet for illustration). The whole thing is colour-coded. Blue for acceptances, Red for submissions, Black for places to try, Green for rejections, and Purple for stories I have withdrawn myself. This last one is key, and a kind thing to do for other writers. If a story gets accepted for publication somewhere, I make sure to contact the other places and withdraw it. This allows editorial teams to reduce the size of their slush pile, and get back to other writers more quickly. It's only fair. 

The bookmarking and updating of the spreadsheet is something I do as I'm going along, but the submitting is something I set aside time for. Many of the magazines have slightly differing formatting requirements, and that in itself takes time. I set aside a couple of hours every month to get the stories I'm sending out into the right format, and then I send stories out - at the moment, I'm doing at least 2 a month. It's good to set a target for yourself, because then you're in the position of actually having to look out for appropriate submission opportunities. And please, for the love of God, make sure you're sending your work to the kind of places that are likely to publish it. Don't waste your time sending pulpy science fiction to Granta. You're only setting yourself up for disappointment. Know what kind of work you make, and what kind of magazines like it. Your submissions process will only ever end in tears otherwise. 

One last thing. I always save my finished stories in two different versions - one that's been through a UK English spellcheck, and one that's been through a US English spellcheck. This makes it easier and quicker for sending versions out internationally. 

Thanks for reading, and happy submitting! 

Currently reading

Breakfast of Champions Kurt Vonnegut

Best of Young Brazilian Novelists Granta 

It's not the winning that etc

Apparently it's competition season, or something. There are currently three big, reputable competitions that I know of open; get to work, because it's anybody's game. And when I say, 'anybody's game', what I mean is, 'anybody who's a really good writer'. Don't go scribbling teenage angst poetry on the back of a fag packet and send it in, because it won't win. Don't blame me, I'm only trying to save you a bit of hassle.

The Bridport Prize, which describes itself as "the richest OPEN prize", is being judged by AL Kennedy and has categories in short stories, flash fiction, and poetry. It closes on 30th June at midnight so get to work. No, June is not "ages away". It's a strong competition, so you might like to spend day and night obsessively writing and rewriting your work between now and then.

The Manchester Fiction Prize is also now open, under the direction of poet laureate Carol Ann Duffy. This is an extremely serious and literary competition so you will want to be serious and literary too. Again, the rewriting. It closes on Friday 11th August. So that gives you an extra five weeks over and above the Bridport Prize to spend day and night obsessively writing and rewriting your work.

Lightship Publishing is running a first chapter competition. The prize is bloody brilliant (a year's mentoring from Tibor Fischer, Simon Trewin of United Agents, and Alessandro Gallenzi of Alma Books). Lightship's patrons include Hilary Mantel and Sir Andrew Motion, oh my days, so get to work. The closing date is June 30th, please insert your own joke about writing and rewriting because I've used all mine up.

Currently reading

They Knew Mr Knight Dorothy Whipple
A Mercy Toni Morrison
Man In The Dark Paul Auster

Around on the internet: news, facts, competitions

Get with it, January: give me your gloom, your grey skies, and the ever-present threat of snow. Slippery pavements, icy ground, imminent local authority cuts and job losses, and BRITAIN'S TRANSPORT CHAOS.

Never mind, readers. Here are three reasons to be cheerful:

"In America, it appears that certain ink-friendly literati are so into their books that they're getting tributes to them engraved on their bodies." Read the story and goggle in disbelief at the fact that people are willing to get tattoos in order to get free books. Just join a library, you buffoons.

Lightship publishing has launched a first chapter competition. The aim of the competition is to encourage new writing talent, since there's little encouragement to be had in these tight times (BOO YOU DAVID CAMERON). They're hoping to find some of Britain's brightest literary talent, here, and there hasn't been a new writing competition this exciting for a while. The whole thing is Andrew Motion-approved, and Tibor Fischer is one of the judges. The closing date is in June this year, so get your nibs a-squeaking and get to work.

In other Hot News, the Bridport prize is open for 2011 entries. The judge this year is the completely smashing AL Kennedy.

Happy new year, everyone!

Bridport Prize

It's summer. My car is hot. The dress code at work means no visible tattoos, and therefore long sleeves. While my colleagues drift about wearing cute cap-sleeve blouses, I'm tugging at the neckline of a little cardigan. (But do they have a large tiger crawling up their shoulder? No, readers, they do not. Therefore, on balance, I win.)

Yes, it would be smart to buy shirts. They're comfortable, they're cool. They let the air circulate. But like any other right-thinking individual, I resent spending money on clothes that are only to be worn in the workplace. That, dear readers, is why I rock up at my desk, with oft-worn threads hanging loosely from my elbows, and the seams of my trousers running threadbare at the thighs. I consider it my role in the workplace to play the part of the eccentric, crumpled hobo. This is also the reason my colleagues daily send me hilarious emails saying things like, "Don't worry, SJ, I've got an iron you can borrow".

Instead of buying appropriate workwear, I insist on wearing knitwear, which is also the reason why I come home most days smelling like a teenager after a Motley Crue concert. Summer is less good for writing than winter. The light reflects off your laptop screen and there's less romanticism to be had in writing in shorts and flip-flops than an aran jumper and a pair of fingerless gloves. It's a bit like cheating: if you can't see your breath solidifying in the air in front of you, how can you possibly expect anything you write to be any good? If you write in the afternoons and evenings after work, like I do, it's more or less a given that you can smell somebody's barbeque through the open window. The smell of charcoal and charred meat reaches your nose, and hark! - there's the sound of chinking beer bottles. Who on earth are these people, these so-called "neighbours", and who do they think they are, going around having so-called "fun"? DON'T THEY KNOW I'M TRYING TO WRITE A NOVEL??

All this can mean only one thing: it's Bridport Prize season. This year, there are categories for short fiction, flash fiction (1000 words or less!) and poetry. For those of us who are a bit wordy around the edges, it's also one of the more generous of the short-story competitions word-wise: 5000 words or less! Any subject!! Get your pens at the ready, it closes in two weeks (the 30th June). Judge this year is Zoe Heller.

Currently reading

The Long Firm Jake Arnott
Pratt A Manger David Nobbs
The Corner (yes, still)
When The Door Closed, It Was Dark Alison Moore, Nightjar Press

Bury your nose in your notebook and pretend you're not earwigging

Bugged blog wants you to listen in on other people's conversations. I want you to listen in on other people's conversations. Why not? I do it myself all the time (don't tell anyone).

Based on the idea that we can find inspiration in everyday incidents, the competition they're running closes on August 15th. Submissions of flash fiction, short fiction, short screenplays, and poetry, are accepted. The only condition is that they must be based on something the writer overheard. (Wait, isn't that all fiction?)

What an ace idea to run a competition with such a widely-themed remit. The competition's open to established and new writers alike, and the winners will be published on their blog.

Get your ear-trumpets out, scribblers: it's overheard conversation season.

Assistant Wanted....

In recent weeks I've been vocal (or should I say, 'writey'?) about the advantages of winter for writers. It's cold, it's dark - perfect weather for staying in, and what better to do with your enforced time indoors than getting stuck into the latest project? I've got me a pair of fingerless gloves and a whole bag of mulled wine spices - so I'm all equipped for it.

At last, I've got a perfect routine going. Work is such that I get home early enough, and emotionally equipped and energetic enough to get a bit of work done most evenings. But you know what really grebs away at the time? Things. Stuff. Crap tasks, like going to the post office, and putting the washing in. It's not just that I resent housework for being an instrument of oppression to women (Emmeline Pankhurst didn't chain herself to the railings so I could waste my time vacuuming the stairs, that's what I always say), but also as a drudge, an idiotic waste of time, and worst of all, it keeps me away from writing. And do you know what the worst swizz of it all is? That you have to do it all again a few days later.

I dream of having a maid. Or even better than having a maid, having an assistant: somebody to pay my National Insurance Contributions at the Post Office. Somebody to go to Wilkinson's to buy cat litter. Somebody to cook my dinner! It's days like these when I exist entirely on pasta and noodles - not because I like either food, but because they take under ten minutes to cook. Alright, so it wouldn't be a very fulfilling job, but it'd free up my time to get more done. You ever wish there were 26 hours in a day? That's me.

You'll already know about Borders' financial troubles. They went into administration recently - a friend who works there told me that the branch he works in is staying open day by day on the basis of how much stock they sell each day. They don't know for certain when the store will close for good - could be any day.

Any way you look at it, Borders' closure is bad news for readers and writers alike. Most book fans are first attracted to books by their covers, and decide to buy on the basis of flicking through them in store. Yes, the prices are cheaper on Amazon, but who buys a book without first holding it in their hands and reading sections of the book to check they like the authors' style? Without bricks and mortar stores for people to wander into, to browse the titles, or to be tempted to buy more books than they intended to through 3 for 2 promotions, I can't see how book sales won't be impacted. The scary thing is, if a bit store like Borders can't survive in this climate, what hope is there for independent & locally owned bookstores?

But... onto the Good News. Mslexia's 2010 Short Story Competition is now open! Submissions of short stories by women authors are invited for the competition, closing in January 2010. The top prize is a day with an editor from Virago. This is a prize really worth winning - so good luck, those of you who enter it! There are more details in this quarter's issue of Mslexia.

Also, independent publishers Wild Wolf Publishing are accepting submissions of full length novels. Specialising in dark, brutal and edgy fiction, they accept submissions of any genre, so long as it's dark! [You can't miss their website. It has pictures of wolves all over it].

Until next time.... I'm putting the fingerless gloves back on and heading back up to my study.... x

November: writing season

It's been over a month since the clocks went back, and I've been wearing my fingerless gloves all around the house ever since. This is no pretension on my part: it really is that cold in our house. Most evenings I creep up to the attic to get to work wearing two shirts, two vests, a thin jumper, and a wonky home-knit aran sweater that I made two years ago, and which is too embarrassing to wear outside the house. Putting the heating on is cheating. Apparently, if one wants to write a great novel, one has to suffer like a character in a Dostoevsky novel. That's Ricky's excuse for not putting the heating on, anyway: it's all the interests of supporting my work.

Dark nights can be something of a productivity slayer. Crawling into hibernation after long days at a day job is perilously easy. However, the slide into torpor is even more depressing than 16-hour long nights, rendering the lazy writer a regretful quivering heap by February, when the snowdrops start to emerge.

A winter night is well suited to writing. It's dark, it's cold, there are few distractions. What else are you going to do? It's not like you can have a barbeque, for God's sake. And so, every night after tea, I waddle upstairs in my seventeen layers to do a couple of hours' work.

This November I have mostly been: still embroiled in the very exciting Secret Project I'm working on. At this rate, I'll have the first draft finished by February. Interspersed with this, I've been working on some short stories. I've had some good ideas lately and they've all made their way into the fiction.

For anyone looking for places to submit work this month (be quick, there are short dates on these) here are a couple of competitions I've unearthed lately:

The Willesden Herald runs an International Short Story competition, leading to publication by Pretend Genius Press, who are an independent publisher who run on a non-profit basis. They have about 15 titles to their name, and currently also publish 'zines. They seem like a publishers' with a unique ethos, so go check 'em out.

This is a good comp for anyone who's a bit wordy in their short stories, as the word limit is 8,000 words. Best of luck to anyone who enters this one.... I'm off to don my gloves and get back to work!

Currently Reading

When To Walk Rebecca Gowers
Immigrants: Your Country Needs Them Phillipe LeGrain
Before She Met Me Julian Barnes