How do you get to be the “in crowd”?

Once upon a time, you got to be in the in crowd by writing short stories and selling them to the big SF magazines: Amazing Stories, Astounding SF, Galaxy, F&SF and Asimov’s. Once you made a name for yourself, then presumably you could get an agent and go on to publish SF novels. Now things are working the other way around. The way to be part of the in crowd it to be a successful novelist first. If magazine and anthology editors recognize your name (and your fan base), then you’re much more likely to have a story accepted for a magazine or anthology, or even to be invited to submit one.

This makes the editors, as well as the writers, lazy. Plus, it subjects a lot of original and interesting stories to rejection through the slush pile because the magazine or anthology is already pre-packed with writers the editors are calculating will increase their sales. This is true to an extent in all publishing, but I think it’s worse the higher up you go. The up-and-coming magazines and editors are more likely to read the slush pile and to take chances on writers that aren’t already their friends.

I don’t mean to say that all publishing is like this, but you know how it goes. Being part of the in crowd never hurts your career.

Is SF exhausted as a genre?

So, I surfed into a discussion about this on a reading list today. Without mentioning any names: The initial post identified a recent anthology by a well-known editor and a particular story by a well-known author. The story was described as something similar to Asimov’s robot stories and the theme and construction were described as ordinary and overworked. The poster tried to use this to make the case that SF is exhausted as a genre. Various responses argued one way or the other about the originality and breadth of today’s SF stories.

What I didn’t see was a discussion about the standard method of putting together a best seller anthology or magazine issue. For anyone who doesn’t know, this is done by inviting well-known writers to provide stories. As a strategy, this has obvious advantages. If the author has a large fan-base and you can get two or three of them to submit a story, then you’ve got a guarantee of good sales. The problem is, when writers are invited to submit a story, they have no motivation to provide anything original, or to stretch the limits in any way. It’s just a job, so the easiest thing is to choose a cliche and write about it. Originality would actually be a bad idea, as a particular writer’s fan-base is likely expecting a rehash of their usual themes, at most.

It’s another benefit of being one of the in-crowd, of not having to brave the slush pile in any competitive way. This also explains why you tend to see the same names over and over in some magazines. Once in the door, it’s easier to make another sale.

More on this tomorrow.

Young Love, Old Hearts now available – Look for it!

Young Love, Old Hearts
A Supposed Crimes Anthology
Editor: C. E. Case
Stories by: A. M. Leibowitz, Adrian J. Smith, Erin McRae & Racheline Maltese, Geonn Cannon, Helena Maeve, Kassandra Lea, Lela E. Buis, Ralph Greco Jr. & Stacy O’Steen

Everyone hears “He’s too young for you.” “She’s too old for you.” Not between these pages. This anthology crosses the age gap with nine enchanting stories of cross-generational relationships. Some are sweet, some are sexy, some are heartbreaking. One is downright murderous. The protagonists are gay men or women searching for true love or trying out what’s right in front of them.

Excerpt from “The Arrangement” by Helena Maeve

August was at his desk, dress shirt open at the collar, tie and suit jacket absent. Ruthlessly beautiful. His idea of casual somehow still left him looking powerful and business-like. He plucked his rimless reading glasses off with a smooth gesture, but tension lingered in his expression.

After six months, Cyril could tell when something was wrong.

“Have a seat,” August suggested with strained formality.

Less than an hour ago, he’d been edging Cyril to the brink of climax and back again, relishing his cries like a true sadist.

Their bedroom dynamic was too overwhelming to set aside at a moment’s notice. Cyril complied, annoyed with himself for the meek show of obedience.

“Thought we already debriefed…”

“It’s not about that.” August folded his hands. “It’s about our arrangement.”

Cyril’s heart slid lower into his knees. The wide stretch of a sturdy wooden desk divided them. It was an effective visual barrier; Cyril could pretend he’d been summoned to a supervisor’s office rather than his lover’s. The similarities were striking.

“I’ve enjoyed these past months… I’d like to think that you have, as well.”

“Yes,” Cyril blurted out.

Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.

August pressed his lips into a thin line. “I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to count this week’s fee—”

“You want to end it.”

August hitched his brows as though surprised by Cyril’s trenchant conclusion.
“I wouldn’t quite—”

“You can just say so. I’m twenty-eight, for god’s sake, not sixteen. I can take it.”

Steel slid into August’s voice. “I’m perfectly aware of that.”

Website: http://helenamaeve.com
Twitter: @HelenaMaeve

Excerpt from “The Artist as an Old Man” by A. M. Leibowitz

The negotiation had been scheduled for three p.m. on Wednesday. Mr. Rubenstein’s neighborhood was a bit challenging to navigate, and Kenny arrived at two minutes past the hour. He knocked on Mr. Rubenstein’s door, his stomach in knots at meeting the artist himself.

When the door opened, Kenny was met by a short, muscular man with dark hair, graying at the temples. He looked far younger than his fifty-three years. He had a long, sloping nose and John Lennon-style glasses. His face dissolved into a deep scowl, and Kenny sucked in his breath, stepping back a few paces.

“You’re late,” Mr. Rubenstein snarled. “Come back tomorrow, and if you show up on time, I’ll consider letting you in.”

He slammed the door, leaving Kenny standing on the stoop, staring. Malcolm was going to kill him, and then he was going to fire him. He might bring him back from the dead just to do it all over again. Kenny gripped his hair in his hands. Nothing for it but to go home and call Malcolm. At least Mr. Rubenstein had left room for him to try again. Which ended up being exactly what Malcolm told Kenny to do, right after he threatened to not only fire him but put him on the three a.m. trucker shift. Malcolm didn’t explain how Kenny could do that if he were fired. Not in the mood for either outcome, Kenny promised to be on time the next afternoon.

Author bio:

A. M. Leibowitz is a spouse, parent, feminist, and book-lover falling somewhere on the Geek-Nerd Spectrum. Ze keeps warm through the long, cold western New York winters by writing romantic plot twists and happy-for-now endings. Hir published fiction includes hir first novel, Lower Education, as well as a number of short works, and hir stories have been included in several anthologies. In between noveling and editing, ze blogs coffee-fueled, quirky commentary on faith, culture, writing, and hir family at amleibowitz.com.

Find me on the Internet:

Web site: http://amleibowitz.com
Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00OIC158W (A. M. Leibowitz)
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/AMLeibowitz
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/amymitchell29 (personal profile); https://www.facebook.com/UnchainedFaith (author page)
Twitter: https://twitter.com/amyunchained (@amyunchained)
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/amyunchained/

Excerpt from “A Blizzard’s Blow” by Adrian J. Smith

The sleek black car turned into the driveway she was standing in, the bright lights blinding her. Lollie put her hands up, protecting her eyes. The wheel on the passenger side of the vehicle hit the slush puddle at the edge of the street and splashed it all over Lollie. She swallowed and stumbled backward as the car barreled forward, nearly knocking her down.

Brakes ground as the driver slammed on them, and the car slid on the ice already forming in the below freezing temperature. Lollie shivered and bit her lip to prevent the curse words from slipping and the screaming from beginning. She’d already shouted enough that night; she didn’t need to do it anymore.

She expected the driver to be a man, for him to be wearing a business suit and rushing home for a dinner his stay-at-home wife was making him and he was late for. Instead, when the driver stepped out of the driver’s seat, her dark hair danced around her face, her baby-blue eyes locking on Lollie. Lollie gasped, clutched a hand to her heart and took a step back as the woman raced around her vehicle, sliding on the ice and shouting.

Author Bio:

Adrian J. Smith is a Christian, author, editor, spouse and all around crazy person. She’s constantly doing something at any given time and never learned to practice the word “relax.” AJ loves stories with a dramatic flair, stories that aren’t afraid to take risk and characters that are as real as the person sitting next to her.

Where to find me!

Website: adrianjsmith.wordpress.com
FB page: http://www.facebook.com/adrianjsmithbooks
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/AdrianAJSmith
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/adrianjsmith

Excerpt from “Adjunct Hell” by Racheline Maltese & Erin McRae

“So apparently your classmates have a betting pool going,” Carl says as soon as Phil picks up the phone.

“Oh?”

“Yes. About whether and when the old dude with the crush is going to get with the professor.”

Phil makes a strangled noise. It takes Carl a moment to realize he’s laughing.

“It’s not funny!” Carl protests.

“It’s funny.”

“I’m still waiting on my boss to tell me whether or not my colleagues hate me and whether I, you know, still have a job. The last thing I need is rumors about me and a student…” Carl trails off in despair.

“It’s a school. Do you have any idea how many rumors are flying around? Or how many professors are banging their students?”

Carl collapses face down on his bed and makes a pitiful noise into the phone.

“Look, I know this is making you crazy,” Phil says soothingly. “But whatever it is has been done, and if they wanted you gone, you’d know. There is also absolutely nothing you can do about it right now. So,” he says, and Carl can just picture him settling more comfortably in his bed, in which they have not spent nearly enough time together. “Tell me about the rest of your day.”

Racheline Maltese & Erin McRae are also authors of the following series:

Love in Los Angeles: http://avian30.com/books/love-in-los-angeles/
Love’s Labours: http://avian30.com/books/loves-labours/

Guest Blog – Giovanni Valentino on Crafting Humorous Speculative Fiction

One of my favorite quotes on the subject of humor is: “Dying is easy; comedy is hard.” These are allegedly the last words of Edmund Kean, a celebrated Shakespearean stage actor born in England in the 19th century.

It’s true because in my opinion, comedy, especially writing it, takes a slightly deranged view of the world. A viewpoint that sees everything and makes the ridiculous connections between it all. These connections are everywhere, but it takes an off kilter mind to see them and an intuitive mind to explain them to others in a way that is understandable and still retains its hilarities.

I believe I have such a mind but I’m kind of an arrogant jerk, albeit a good looking, brilliant one. I accept this as my path because if I had humility, I would be perfect, and I wouldn’t want to make others feel bad about themselves. ☺

In bringing humor to speculative fiction, there are two ways to go, mock the world around you or mock the genre itself.

Speculative fiction is often hailed as the great canvas on which we can explore the plight of humanity without lecturing. It’s a place where we can look at modern issues like racism, sexism, global warming, the ethics of science and others, and follow them to their eventual outcome, as cautionary tales. Humor often does the same, so the two can easily gang up on things.

Then there is the comical nature of the genre itself. You can mock over-used tropes like alien’s probing people were the sun doesn’t shine. You can attack the vampire’s weaknesses to oddly diverse things like garlic or running water. You can shine light on the sheer foolishness of delving into underground caverns stocked with an array of different monsters that don’t ever attack each other, for the chance at valuable prizes. Turn these concepts on their ears and you have a rich vein of comedic gold or an earache, one or the other.

Still, in humor, you need something else, momentum. Many stories that come into Alternate Hilarities have a common flaw; they are just lead ups to a single punch line. This is fine for a short short, 500 words or so, but it’s not good enough for anything longer. In a story more than 500 words, it needs to be funny in a few more places, the more the better.

Yes, every joke needs a setup but if the setup is too long, you run the risk of losing the reader’s attention. For my pieces in Alternate Hilarities, I want to have a joke in at least every other paragraph and each joke builds on the last. This carries the story along and keeps the reader laughing. When they’re laughing, they keep reading.

The first humorous speculative fiction story I wrote was called “Difficult Subject”. It’s about a conversation between an alien abductee and his abductor. The title does double duty since the abductor is forced to explain the ridiculous reasons why the abductions are necessary to his unfortunately lucid victim. This is compounded by the fact that this conscious abductee is very rude and annoying, making him a difficult subject to study.

The troublesome abductee questions and mocks each one of the alien’s points leading up to the horrible revelation that the abductee is in the control group and none of his data really matters. Of course, it ends with probing or there is probing in the end, depending on whether you’re a glass half-full or half-empty kind of person.

Even the best humor is subjective. Not everyone will get or like your jokes. If you only have one, it’s a coin flip as to whether or not the reader will laugh out loud or groan. The more you add, the greater the chance you can get at least a chuckle out of everyone.

So, if you have a well-written humorous science fiction piece, I’m reading for my next anthology, Weirder Science. Check out the submission guidelines here and mention this post for 10% off. ☺

Alternate Hilarities 3: Hysterical Realms is available on Amazon right now. It features a fantastic story by this blog’s own Lela Buis called “Mixed Heritage.” Check it out today.

Website: http://www.strangemusingspress.com/p/alternate-hilarities.html
Twitter: @Strange_Musings

Shaping the Future

Visionaries are important in shaping the future. This is because any change in society, or any invention, has to be imagined before it can become reality. Once some concept has been described in any way—say through an oral tradition, a book or a film–then it has achieved a certain reality, and people can set out to build it.

This kind of visionary literature has been named “science fiction” within the last century or so. It has a bad reputation, maybe, based on poor production techniques and an unfortunate association with geeky engineers in coke-bottle glasses and ill-fitting white shirts with ink stains on the pockets. Other associations include green aliens landing in crude-looking flying saucers and stealing away swooning pin-up girls. However, regardless of this pulp reputation, a number of impressive visions came out of the “golden age” of science fiction. These include Jules Verne’s vision of submarines in Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea (1870), his vision of space flight in From the Earth to the Moon (1865) and his vision of a helicopter in Robur the Conqueror (1886). Although it took a few years for these visions to become commercially viable, their reality was assured as soon as Verne published his books.

One important recurring vision in science fiction is travel to other worlds. Endless generations of humans have looked at the stars and wondered what it would be like to fly there. These visions were realized in 1969 with the first flight to the moon, and now Elon Musk of Space-X, reportedly inspired by Isaac Asimov, means to make travel to Mars a reality. This romantic notion has inspired a whole new crop of science fiction related to the planet Mars. For example, Redshifted from Third Flatiron Anthologies is available (either in e-book or print format) from your favorite bookstore. Indulge the vision.

Full disclosure: The author of this article has a short story appearing in the anthology entitled “The Journal of Miss Emily Carlton.”

Third Flatiron website: http://www.thirdflatiron.com/liveSite/pages/current-issue
Juliana Rew on Twitter: @julirew

When Is a Dog Not a Dog?

It’s been a long time since the first wolf made the fateful decision to hang around a human’s campfire. It’s an odd decision when you look at it. After all, humans are more likely to be prey—especially the little ones who can’t run very fast. The benefits are obvious, of course—an easy life as a watchdog and a daily dinner of leftovers without the difficulty of hunting it down. Still, you have to wonder about that kind of vision shift.

The end result, of course, is the family pet we’re all familiar with. There are also working dogs, of course, the retrievers, hunters and herding dogs that are a little bit of a tougher fit for the family home. Dogs have about the intelligence level of a human two-year-old, but in the house they’re a little bit different from a human toddler. They don’t have hands, for one thing, and they have different responses based on their canine instincts.

There are always news stories about how scientists could increase human intelligence levels. Genetic engineering would be one possibility, or maybe connecting people digitally to the Internet. But what would happen if man’s best friend could be made more intelligent this same way? What if scientists could breed a dog that could think on a human level? Meet the working dog of the future.

“The Cabin” is a science fiction story (by me) about a dog that’s not quite a dog. Look for it in Master Minds, an anthology from Third Flatiron press, edited by Julianna Rew. The anthology is currently available in either electronic or print editions. Full disclosure: This is shameless self-promotion.

Third Flatiron website: http://www.thirdflatiron.com/liveSite/pages/current-issue
Juliana Rew on Twitter: @julirew