Author Archives: mary

When a Small Press Folds

Anthology with story from Mary Pletsch

There are a lot of small presses out there publishing excellent books.  Publishing with a small press comes with benefits but also drawbacks, and we’ve had some great posts this month talking about both.  As someone who’s sold short stories to anthologies published by a number of small presses, I’ve had some illuminating experiences for both good and bad.

The good:  Being published by a small press gave me networking “cred” that self-publishing likely would not have.  I’ve run the editorial gauntlet, so to speak, and my stories were chosen to appear in venues such as the Tesseracts anthologies (published by EDGE), Women in Practical Armour (published by Evil Girlfriend Media) and my first sale, the e-book edition of When the Hero Comes Home 2 (published by Dragon Moon Press).  These credentials have given me contacts and opportunities that I would not have gotten, or would have been much harder won, if I’d needed to convince those contacts that my self-published work was as good as the work that these presses published.

The bad:  Small presses are small, and that means internal issues at the publisher, outside the writer’s control, can have a huge impact.  Setting aside cases of deliberate fraud or well-intentioned bumbling:  even the most professional of small presses can be vulnerable.

Case in point.  I sold a story to an anthology that was going to be published by a small press.  Shortly thereafter, the press’s owner (and primary operator) sadly passed away.  There was no one to take over ownership of the press and it closed.  The anthology went out of print only a few weeks after it first came out when the press closed.  I say “out of print,” but in a digital sense…the paper copies had not yet become available.

Fortunately, the anthology was saved when the editor–who had independently published some of her own work–made arrangements that allowed her to publish the anthology as a “Second Edition” under her self-publishing banner.  It is now, once again, available in both print and e-book.

It was, however, a reminder to me that even reputable small presses can find themselves struggling when personnel step down.  The effects of financial issues, personal issues, and health concerns–all perfectly understandable–are magnified when they affect a small business owner or key staff member and there is no one else willing or able to fill the role.

There have been a number of calls for submissions for anthologies that I would have liked to have been part of, only to have the calls delayed or the anthologies cancelled because of life issues on behalf of the editors and/or publishers.  I can count my good fortune that I either had not yet started writing the stories or else was able to adapt them enough to sell them elsewhere.

What does this mean for writers?  It is a factor to consider.  Can you sell your book or story to a large professional market, or do you need to seek out venues that accept unagented submissions or will consider a revised version of a work that other markets have turned down?  Will the credit of passing the small press’s editorial gauntlet reflect well on you as a writer and open up new opportunities, or is it better off to self-publish and keep control of your work?  The reputation of the press itself can play a big role.  And there is no “one-size-fits-all” answer.  There are certain stories written by certain writers at certain stages of their career that will benefit from being published by certain small presses, and there are factors that even the most careful research can’t uncover before a contract is signed.  Weigh your options, research to avoid the predators, make your choices, and best of luck.

Lies – But Only From One Point of View

When is a lie not a lie?

Characters holding different points of view often have different ideas of what constitutes a lie.

Different people will have different, even contrasting, memories of the same event.  Some people’s memories will fixate around the particular things they noticed during the event (for example some people will remember sounds; others won’t remember sounds at all).  The brain fills in “missing information” to create coherent narrative—if two people saw a bad guy on the roof and then on the ground, one person might say the bad guy climbed down the fire escape and another might say the bad guy jumped.  One—or both—of those statements is untrue, but each will seem true to the person saying it.

If your character is an atheist, he will consider the statement  “There is a God” to be untrue.

If your character is a practicing Muslim, she will consider the statement “There is a God” to be true.

If your character is a practicing Hindu, he may respond to the statement “There is a God” with “Actually, there are many gods”—ie, the statement is an incomplete truth.

Or think about politics:  “The best candidate to run the country is….”  Supporters of various political parties will argue passionately about whether the statement is true or false depending on whose name is used to conclude it!

In cases like these three, nobody is telling deliberate falsehoods or trying to deceive anyone.  Rather, people’s perspectives are leading them to make judgments of “truth” or “falsehood” based on their own experiences, beliefs, and understandings.

Sometimes the character may be proven wrong.   The person who thought he saw and heard the bad guy making his way down the fire escape may be shocked when he sees the security footage of the bad guy jumping from the roof.  He may question his own sanity or his eyesight.  But he hasn’t deliberately lied.  He’s had a (very common) mistaken perception.

And sometimes the characters may never find out whose version is the truth.   Maybe the character who believes in the paranormal is sure she saw a ghost and the character who doesn’t believe in life after death is sure she didn’t…and the story ends without anyone ever finding out if the ghost was “real” or not.  In this case, the plot of the story—the story arc—is focused on something else, and whether or not the ghost is real doesn’t matter.

Contrasting points of view can create tension and mystery, cause conflicts between characters, and drive the story forward—and they can be done with everyone involved certain they are each telling the truth.

Living the Dream. Oh, Crap

pletschportrait2016 was a game-changing year for my writing career.  An editor who’d bought two of my previous short stories asked if I’d be interested in writing a novel or series of novels in a shared universe.  I started the year as a published short story writer who wanted to write a novel, and I’m ending the year as a novelist under contract to deliver the first novel on January 1, 2017.

I’m also under a non-disclosure agreement, so I’m not free to give details, which is a big challenge when I can’t talk about what I’m thinking about all day!

Because my focus has been on novels, I’ve written fewer short stories this year.  My first novel isn’t coming out until some time in 2018, and the meat of my payment will be from royalties, meaning it’s over a year until I actually see money for the majority of the work I’ve done.  The good news on the money front is that I’m getting royalties from novelettes published this year and previous years, and I received some nice cheques from short story markets that pay pro rates.  Overall, though, I still need my part-time job, and I’m very fortunate to not be the only income-earner in my household.

I’ve also had some interesting insights about living the dream.

I’m no longer as free to write whatever takes my fancy.  I can’t spend so much time crafting a random idea into a short story and then look for a home for it, because I’m obligated to turn in a novel-length manuscript on a certain topic by a certain date.

Writers under contract still have to do laundry.  I thought the entertainment industry would be more glamorous.

There’s a certain gratification that I don’t have to wonder about whether what I’m writing is ever going to find a publisher.  I’ve got a folder of unsold short stories that represent several cumulative months of work for, as of yet, zero financial return.  Of course, I also have a folder of sold short stories, but sometimes I’m surprised that stories I think are really strong are still in the zero folder, and I also have a “I got HOW MUCH for THAT?!” story on hand.  With the novel, I have a signed contract saying that what I write is definitely going to be published (on the assumption that it meets the publisher’s standards).  On the other hand, it’s in my best interests to deliver the best manuscript I can, not just something “good enough to publish.”  This book is going to be a lot of readers’ first exposure to my work, and if I want them to buy Book 2, I will make Book 1 as good as I can possibly make it.

I had a big shock one day when I felt sore and tired and just wanted to rot my brain watching cartoons all day, but my common sense told me, “Hey, you have a novel deadline.  You know you can’t do good work last-minute (since high school I’ve envied people who can).  You better go write a thousand words BEFORE you put that DVD in.”

And my lizard brain snarled, “I hate having a book contract.”

WTF?! my consciousness said.  You’ve wanted this for twenty years, and now that you have it, you hate it?

No, I don’t really hate it.  I might have hated doing the responsible thing rather than the thing which would provide me with instant gratification, but I don’t regret my choice, because having a book contract is worth it.

On the other hand, for those aspiring writers out there:  Do you know the feeling of knowing you have a project, an essay, a big term paper, a graduate thesis due?  It’s going to feel like that for the rest of my life.  Or at least as long as I have books under contract.

It’s strangely familiar.  And it’s worth it.

 

The Other Way Around: Novelizations of Movies, Games and TV

I’m old enough to remember the days before my household got a VCR.  If we wanted to watch a movie, we had to catch it at our local cinema.  If we wanted to watch a TV show, we had to make sure we were sitting in front of the TV when the show came on.   If we were busy, or sick, or just forgot, our chance to see it was gone.

But what I remember most was the bittersweet knowledge that when I was watching a movie I loved, I wouldn’t be able to just watch it again any time I wanted.  Until–if–it aired again, I would have to content myself with my memories…

…and my books.

I had junior novelizations of films, illustrated with pictures of stills from the movie.  I had movie tie-in novels, designed to recreate the story as best they could using the printed word instead of audio and visuals.  I even had comic-book adaptations.  Later, when we got our VCR, I had the experience of renting movies that I’d previously known only as books…this was particularly amusing with movies like Star Trek:  The Motion Picture and Back to the Future, which had begun as movies, but which I’d first experienced as books.

Many movies and shows are based on books, but sometimes it’s the other way around.  Tie-in books are created to tell the story of a movie (or video game, or TV show) in another format.

What’s the purpose of a tie-in book, though, in an era where fans of the movie are going to be able to download it on their computers, stream it on Netflix, or buy it on Blu-Ray?  Now that it’s easy to get a movie and watch it any time you like, what’s the point of having a novel version?

Novels are a different medium from movies, TV, or games, and the best tie-in novels play to the strength of the medium.  In a novel, it’s easy to write about what a particular character is thinking, or give the reasons why a character made a certain choice.  In a movie, it’s a lot harder to do this without resorting to the voice-over narrative technique, a technique which needs to be used appropriately and sparingly.  Tie-in novels can provide new insights into why characters do what they do, and how they feel about the events that are unfolding.

Tie in novels can also provide looks “behind the scenes.”  Maybe certain scenes were cut from the finished movie.  Maybe the movie didn’t make it clear if a certain character survived or not…but the book does.  Maybe a plot hole’s been patched.  Maybe we get to find out more about the villains, or the minor characters, or a group who were “out of the spotlight” while the original movie focused on the protagonist.

(For the record, “Snakes on a Plane” makes a much better book than a movie.  The novelization is a much more character-driven, much meatier, much more entertaining story.  And the cat lives.)

How do you write a bad tie-in novel?  Create a generic story of the same genre and slap on the names of the characters from the show.  Fans will not be happy if the characters that they know and love are acting jarringly out-of-character, missing their unique defining traits, or seem to be oblivious to information that’s common knowledge about their world in their original medium.  The tie-in needs to feel like “part of” the world it claims to represent.

Most importantly, these days, tie-in novels aren’t bound to retelling the story of a video game/movie/TV show.  Many tie-ins are prequels or sequels to the action depicted in the video game or movie.  Others “fill in the gaps” between the second and third games in a series, or the second and third movies in a franchise.  Particularly with video games, tie-in novels can flesh out the world of the games, provide backstory, and give deeper insights into the characters.

In the age of Netflix, the art of the tie-in novel isn’t in re-hashing someone else’s script; it’s in expanding that script’s story, providing details and scenes and character depth that enhance the experience of re-watching the original.