Category Archives: Business

Gambling With the Guidelines

Craft & Skills Kim May Publishing Submissions No Comments

Short story submission guidelines can sometimes look like a laundry list of Thou Shalt Nots. Thou shalt not write longer than the longest long that we can brain…Thou shalt not have more blood splatter than a Quentin Tarantino movie…Thou shalt not profane the Flying Spaghetti Monster…Thou shalt not write about clowns eating pudding…

Most of these are pretty solid rules but some can be skirted and occasionally — if you’re willing to take the risk — you can ignore one or two entirely. How can you tell which are which? Well when in doubt abide by the rules. This isn’t something that a novice should try. When gambles like this pay off it’s usually because the writing is so good that the editor is willing to overlook the disregard. And as I said, most of the guidelines should be obeyed regardless.

For example, when editors say they don’t want to read a story based on your favorite D&D campaign or one that has enough sex and profanity to make Howard Stern blush, they mean it. The former they see often enough to go into convulsions at the mere mention of it and the latter they can’t publish because it would offend their target audience. They know what their audience better than we do so it’s best to take their word on it.

Word counts on the other hand can be a little more flexible. Magazine and anthology editors know how many words fit on a page and how many pages the budget will allow. They also have an idea of how many stories they would like to fill those pages with. If your story is a slightly under the minimum count, you can still submit it without too much fuss. Every editor that I know prefers too short to too long. Especially since it gives them breathing room for the other submissions. That being said, if you’re over the word limit you’re better off shaving those excess words. It’s hard to write short and few can do it well so it’s not a good idea to assume that there will be a story that’s short the exact number of words needed to accommodate yours. Plus some editors won’t read anything over the maximum because they don’t want to fall in love with a story they can’t buy.

One of the less clearcut gambles lies in the domain of themed anthologies. Say an editor is putting together a collection of stories about magical flying red pandas (because who doesn’t love red pandas?) and they want them in the style of Mr. Rainbow McSweetandfluffy. The best thing to do would be to write exactly that. However, if Sweetandfluffy isn’t your thing but Ms. Dark McThrilling is you could submit that in the hope that the editor decides that your story is exactly what the anthology needs to prevent the readers from going into diabetic shock. But then again, they might not.

This kind of gamble is similar to investing in the stock market. You may lose on your investment at first but if you stay the course you might make a profit months or years in the future. The editor might pass on your McThrilling because they really do want only Sweetandfluffy. But if they need McThrilling-style stories for a different project they might invite you to write for that instead. There’s no guarantee that they’ll buy it but it does mean that the gamble paid off. The editor wouldn’t have invited you if your red panda story didn’t make a good impression. Of course there’s that pesky if. Make the wrong impression and there won’t be an invitation.

Whether it’s wise to gamble is up to you. I’ve had mixed success but that’s the way of it.

I Write For Money–Except When I Don’t

Balancing Acts Doing Good in the World Living Deliberately Mary Pletsch Publishing No Comments

 

Money flows to the writer.

It’s a great rule, created to help new writers from being taken in by scam publishers who make their money by demanding payments from authors rather than from selling books to readers.

When I first began submitting my work, I made a deal with myself:  I was submitting only to markets that paid up front.  I wasn’t going to settle for “exposure in lieu of payment.”  If I wanted “exposure” I could post my stories on my tumblr.  I wanted to see cash up front.  And I wasn’t going to fill my garage with hundreds of copies of my books that would then be up to me to sell.

For the most part, this is a good rule and it’s served me well.  It’s a great feeling to be able to buy things and pay bills with the money I make from my writing.

But I’ve broken this rule a few times with short story anthologies, and I still feel good about it.  Here’s why.

 

Charity anthology 

I gave a short story to an anthology in support of animal welfare.  I give cash to the Humane Society, so I was also willing to give a story in lieu of cash, in support of a worthwhile cause.

Similarly, some of my writer friends have donated copies of their books or anthologies they are in from their stock (see below) to silent auctions and other fundraisers.  Although they’re out the cost of the book, they’ve increased visibility for their work and contributed to a good cause.

As with cash donations, writers need to strike a sustainable balance for giving away stories or hard copies.  You will need to decide for yourself how often you’re willing (or able) to give away your work for free.  If you’re gaining exposure in a way that counts–for example, appearing in a charity anthology with some big-name authors–or if you feel strongly about the cause you’re fundraising for, it’s worth doing this sometimes.

 

Payment in royalties

Payment in royalties is a gamble.  If the anthology sells well, I stand to make more than I might if I’d simply sold the story for a flat fee.  If it doesn’t, though, I risk seeing little if any return on those first publication rights.

The first time I took this gamble, I had a story that was shorter than my usual work.  It had been sitting on my hard drive for the better part of a year and I’d been having trouble thinking of where I might place it.  I finally found the perfect anthology call, but it paid only in royalties.  I decided to take the gamble.  It was accepted.  Currently, I’m still a little short of what I’d like to have sold it for, but the anthology is still in publication, meaning I will hopefully be seeing more royalties in the future.

Royalties are a lot more common when you’re writing in longer forms.   My first novella (written under a pseudonym) also pays entirely in royalties, so I’m waiting to see whether I get more, or less, than I would’ve gotten if I’d cut it down to anthology length and sold it to an anthology for a single up-front payment.

 

Stocking your work

On occasion I’ve paid more than I’ve earned getting extra copies of the anthologies my work appears in.  The first time, I looked at that box of books and my empty wallet and winced a little.  In the end, though, having a few copies on hand has proven to be worth the investment.

Earlier this year, I participated in an author launch and came away with cash in hand—even after giving copies to the event organizer, my fellow authors, and our fearless sales-table staffer.  I also attended Ad Astra convention in Toronto and sold enough books to pay for my food and travel expenses, making the con much more affordable.  The launch party and the convention gave me the ability to promote my work to a wider audience, something I couldn’t have done as easily without stock on hand to sell.

Another factor is when acquaintances, co-workers and party guests ask me:  oh, you’re a writer?  Can I see your work?  I’ve gotten my anthologies into a number of hands just by saying:  yes, I have some copies on hand, this one is $15…

So how much stock should you have?  I’ve had authors recommending five copies of each work as their ideal stock number.  Other factors to consider include how much money you can afford up front, how much space you have to store stock, how many anthologies you’re in, and how marketable each book is (for example, in-person I attend more sci-fi events than romance events, so I stock more of my sci-fi themed work.)  I also find that I get better shipping prices on 10-20 books than I do on 5; fortunately, I have family and friends who lay claim to most of the difference, which helps to keep my first stock shipment affordable.

 

Writing for fun

I enjoy online role playing, fan fiction, talking about themes in my favourite comics, and other kinds of writing that don’t pay me money.  I’ve scrutinized my hobbies to avoid wasting time I could spend on paying writing, and have decided that if I accomplish my professional writing goals, I am just as entitled to spend my relaxation time on role playing as on video games, crafts or any other form of entertainment.  Sometimes, when I’ve edited a story for the tenth time or a conclusion just isn’t coming together or I’ve received a disappointing rejection, I feel that I hate writing, and ask myself why I’m doing this.  And then I hammer out a goofy little fan-fic, fall in love with my craft all over again, and the next morning feel inspired when I return to my original work.

Sex and the Screenplay

Business Character Editing Guest Posts Publishing Writing Tools 3 Comments

A guest post by Tracy Mangum.

Love it or hate it, Fifty Shades of Grey is a cultural phenomenon. Since Random House bought the rights to the trilogy in 2012, the series has sold over 100 million copies worldwide. Trailers for the movie have been view 250 million times, and has already made over $300 million at the worldwide box office. That means that Fifty Shades is about to become all the more influential, so now seems like a good time to discuss writing sex for screen, and what it’s like filming those scenes.

Note, I haven’t read Fifty Shades, nor have I seen the movie. I also have never written or filmed a sex scene. I do have a BA in film studies, but if my lack of first hand knowledge upsets you, you have permission to click away now.

Still here? Awesome.

Sex in film is a tricky subject. There’s a fine line between too explicit and too tame, and either side can cause you to lose the audience. Another problem from a writing standpoint is that the screenwriter is the least important part of the sex scene. It’s up to the director, the actors, the director of photography, and the editor to determine what will be shown on screen. As a screenwriter, you never give directions or suggested shots/edits in your script. You are there to paint the overall picture and allow the director to make the specific decisions.

The first thing to think about is why are you including a sex scene in the first place. You could just fade out on a couple kissing, and then fade in on them in bed the next morning. The fade is a common editing technique to suggest a passage of time, and it visually gives the audience the information without actually showing anything. You need to have a solid rationale as to why we need to see the scene take place. You need to find the drama in the sex: Is the relationship disintegrating? Is there a healing happening? The script needs to explore the relationship between the characters that is happening during the scene. The scene isn’t about sex, but rather the exchange of emotions. Is it rage, or desolation, or exultation, or tenderness, or surprise? If your scene is only about lust, it might be shocking at first, but quickly becomes boring.

You as the screenwriter sitting at the laptop can easily create a vision of two individuals expressing their love to each other. These characters are deeply in love and this intimate moment plays out beautifully as they lovingly caress each other. Sounds lovely in your head and on paper, but remember you are asking real people to bring your vision to life.

You have two actors that may be strangers, may be friends, may have a decent working relationship with, or maybe despise each other, strip naked, and pretend to share intense intimacy with each other. They have to be mindful of technical restraints such as where the camera focus and framing is, reciting any dialogue, choreographed movement with their partner, all in front of bright lights, cameras, and about 10+ people on set watching. Then you have to do the exact same scene from multiple angles and you try to perfectly replicate the movements and speed in each take to make it cut together in post-production.

Filmmaking is a construction of reality that is very mechanical, practiced, and choreographed. It is made to look like the camera/audience has just happened upon this intimate moment between two people, but the reality is anything but that. Scenes will often be framed to show the actors heads, and only part of their upper torso. This will allow the actors to keep pants on. For scenes that need to show more of the body, actresses often wear flesh colored underwear, and men will wear what is basically a sock. Often times, the actor/actresses significant other is on set to watch and make sure nothing unusual occurs, but this can make a difficult scene even more awkward.

But what about films that appear to be much more explicit like “Nymphomaniac” or “Blue is the Warmest Color” or even “Game of Thrones” on HBO? They look so realistic! Well, that’s because they are good at creating a false reality. Filmmakers will use body doubles, clever lighting and editing, body molds/props, or even computer generated images.

So as you write your script, remember that a good sex scene is just like any other scene in the film. It needs to have a reason to be there, reveal something about your characters, and propel the scene forward. If it doesn’t meet that criteria it shouldn’t be in your screenplay. Cut it out before the director leaves it on the cutting room floor.

Tracy MangumAbout Tracy Mangum:

I’m a local Salt Lake City filmmaker and blogger.

My short film “Father Knows Flesh” won Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Actor at the SL Comic Con FanX Film Festival last year. I cover the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Agents of Shield, Gotham, and Disney for Lord of the Laser Sword.

I taught film in SLC for 10 years at LDS Business College.

Beyond the Nightlight

Horror Marketing Mary Pletsch No Comments

There’s nothing to be afraid of.  Childhood fears fade as the years pass.  They are never as real as they were when you were a child.

Unless they are.

“Beyond the Nightlight” is an anthology for adult readers about the terrors of childhood boogeymen.  My contribution, “Big Boy,” is based on the earliest childhood fear I can remember.  I wasn’t afraid of monsters under the bed, creatures in my closet or the dark shadows in the corners of my room.  I was afraid…of the light.

More specifically, I was afraid of the light cast by trucks going by on the highway outside.  Their powerful headlights reflected through my window and created an illuminated square that crawled over my wall and disappeared right above my headboard.

My goal, in writing this scary story, was to show readers, firsthand, what’s so scary about light on a wall.  Most people are familiar with common tropes like boogey men and monsters under the bed.  And, because those tropes are common, writing a story about them demands a fresh twist or some new insight into the reasons those concepts became tropes in the first place.  I decided I’d rather take my uncommon fear and show readers why that moving light kept me awake late into the night, watching it come creeping towards me.

To do that, one of the things I had to do was put myself in the mindset of a three-year-old.  I remember arguing with my dad that headlights shone straight ahead on the road, not sideways and up into people’s windows, so how could a truck cause that scary moving square?  The square, of course, was caused by the shape of my window, and the light moved as the truck moved on the highway, appearing when the vehicle came into range and disappearing when it passed by.  My father tried very patiently to explain this to me, but my child’s logic didn’t think it made sense.  Moving patches of light aren’t scary to adults.  I had to describe this scene through a child’s eyes.

Next, I asked myself what I remembered the most about this childhood fear.  Why do I still remember being scared of the light over three decades later, when I’ve long forgotten why I was ever afraid of other childhood boogeys?  (I remember the Sphynx and sprouty potatoes being other terrors of mine).  I thought back, and realized that my other fears could be easily escaped:  I just closed the book on Ancient Egypt, or put the lid back on the potato barrel.  With that light, though, all I could do was lie very still and hope it didn’t notice me.  I remember calling for my parents, not knowing if they’d come or not, knowing the light would reappear sooner or later after they left.  That feeling of being alone, possibly abandoned, holding very still in the dark and watching the light come crawling my way…that feeling lasted.  That was the feeling I wanted to convey to my readers:  the feeling of being there with the three-year-old protagonist, small and young and all alone in the dark, wondering if your parent would come…or if the light would get you first.

Thankfully for me (and unfortunately for my main character), “Beyond the Nightlight” falls into the horror component of speculative fiction.  That means that I wasn’t bound to write a story that conformed to my reality (which always involved the illuminated square of light vanishing harmlessly once the truck moved out of range).  No, in fiction I’m free to describe exactly what three-year-old me was so afraid might happen if I fell asleep with that light on my wall.

Are you scared yet?  No?  Are you….curious?

You can order your own copy of “Beyond the Nightlight” in paperback or ebook here.

Shine your light on twenty-four terrifying stories for grown-up readers about the horrors that lurk in a child’s imagination.