Scott of the Cathartic (Slushpile Interview Bonus Content)

In the recent interviews with ASIM slush readers, I asked the question: What responses, if any, have you received from rejected writers?

A straightforward enquiry, yet it left the door open to answer the question I was really asking: Have any of these social landmines tried stalking you from Fortress Ego?

Three of the four interviewees responded to the literal question, indicating that (because the anonymity of ASIM's slush system) they haven't had to face an onslaught of 'How Dare You?' attacks from an author who doesn't understand their position in the submission process. 

Lee Battersby, however (who in the interview discussed his experiences reading slush for other publications), had a story to tell.

For readers familiar with the Australian SF scene, this story may be known (and old news) to you. But for everyone else, this is a world class example of "OMFG he did what?".

---

I received a story that was submitted by an acquaintance of mine. In the interests of anonymity, we'll give him my brother's name:  Scott. I'd met Scott at a few cons, we knew each other by sight, and he was a friendly enough guy that I quite liked him in that way you like casual acquaintances. Scott had been round the traps for a while and had a few publications to his credit, so it wasn't out of the realms of surprise that he'd send us something.

The story itself wasn't up to scratch: it was clumsily written, had leaps of logic that didn't gel, and the whole thing really didn't measure up to our needs. I sent him a rejection, thanking him and explaining why we wouldn't be taking the story. All standard.

Scott sent me an email in reply: Wow, he said, his first rejection in 15 years of industry success. He'd forgotten what they tasted like. Sorry he didn't meet our stellar standards, and thanks ever so for pointing out all his multitudinous faults from our position of all-knowing invulnerability. What could I say to that? It happens. I shrugged, and binned it. He'd had a silly moment, what're ya gonna do?

Then, over the next couple of days, I received a number of emails from friends, all of which asked the same questions: Had I just rejected Scott's story? What did I say? What was the story like? Scott, it seemed, had a blog. Scott had blogged his rejection. Scott had quite a few things to say about his rejection, particularly on the subject of editors who were too stupid to recognise a spoof of bad SF stories, which he'd deliberately written to be bad, and clumsy, and contain massive leaps of logic.

Anyway, he wrote, ha ha to the stupid editors, because he'd sent it to Argosy and they'd got back within 24 hours, and were "absolutely bugfuck" about the story. Scott was sure the large cheque he'd receive for the story would make it all worthwhile. In fact, Scott was doing pretty well at the moment. Look at all the other markets that were buying his work: here, and here, and here. Which was great for Scott. Except:

Argosy had been closed to submissions for over a year. Several comments appeared on his entry to that effect. Then someone decided to follow up the other stories Scott had mentioned. None of the editors had heard of him. Several visited his blog, just to tell him so.

Then another writer blogged an entry on his blog, on the subject of liars, and CV padding, and the sadness and pathetic nature of people who did so. They linked to Scott's entry. And so it went. More people commented, and blogged, and linked, and commented again. Pretty soon, within a month or so, the jackboot brigade were denouncing Scott at every opportunity, and calling for him to be run out of Dodge, as if we were all somehow members of a posse, charged with keeping good ole SF clean and pure of heart.

In the end, of course, Scott left the con scene, and stopped submitting to magazines, and locked his blog so only his chosen friends could read it, and his name became, for a short while, synonymous with 'mud' at the small press level in Australia. Until the next brouhaha came along, and the literary SA got another chance to shine their truncheons. Just to be clear, incidentally: it wasn't my brother. He doesn't need that sort of incentive to send me hate mail :)

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Being publicly censured by your peers is a humiliating way to stop writing, but this is the closest he ever came to telling an entertaining story.

I've independently verified most of the details of this sordid tale -- including the last bit about Lee's brother, who did once send him hate mail. Lee inspires that sort of passion.

It's a shame Lee chose not to name the author, who doesn't have a snow ball's chance in hell of publishing in the Australian SF scene, but otherwise got away scot free. You could learn more from the blog entry by the other writer Lee mentions, but without any names, how would you find it?

Slushpile Interview: ASIM's Readers (Part Three)

The eternally patient slush readers at Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine have humoured me long enough. Here, in the final installment of this round table interview (Parts One and Two), the kid gloves come off, to reveal the latex gloves coated in anti-bacterial gel that they must wear when handling unsolicited submissions.

Note: Several of the interviewees refer below to a mythic entity, variously known as the 'Slush King', 'Slush Queen', 'Slushmaster' or 'Slushmistress'. I'm assuming that this is this refers to ASIM's submissions handler, and not to an actual monarch of the slushpile -- if it's the latter, I think they've been reading slush way too long. In any event, I'm sure it's a hereditary title.

How far "out there" do some people go? Worst/strangest/most elaborate?

Haynes: I've written and edited my response to this question several times now, because I don't want to offend anyone. I'll just say that I've read a couple of stories which should probably have been forwarded to mental health experts. Horror, of course.

Battersby: The worst submission I've received wasn't actually a submission at all! It was an emailed invitation to peruse somebody's 17000 line SF poem regarding their cat, and to reproduce as much, or all, of it as I liked. I've also had to reject one submission on the grounds that, even if the writing had been up to scratch, we just couldn't bring ourselves to publish a story where the author had chosen to illustrate each paragraph with an assortment of clip art that he insisted had to be reproduced.

What responses, if any, have you received from rejected writers?

'Charlie': I don't get responses directly but we do get feedback sometimes which the Slush king or Queen shares. It is always positive, saying how much the author appreciated the feedback and the time we have taken to give it. But they may be hiding the negative stuff.

Wessely: Generally we get a very positive response from our writers, because a) our reading process is very transparent and we keep authors in the loop as to what stage their story is at and b) we often provide feedback from the slushers. There are some loopy people out there who get a bit paranoid about their ‘baby’ – to them I say if you can’t handle rejection (and can’t read the emails the slushmistress/master sends to you regularly and take them at face value!) maybe you shouldn’t be in this game. We try to do it nicely and constructively, but as an author, you need to deal with it!

Haynes: Personally, none. The slushmaster isn't supposed to put our names on the response(s), but I think a couple did slip through once so I stopped putting my name, sig or anything else in my replies. Eventually I stopped commenting altogether. Yes or no, that's it.

Battersby: The majority of writers I've worked with have accepted rejections for what they are: confirmation that this story won't be purchased by this magazine at this time. (NB: That's all they are.) Occasionally I've had a writer contact me to ask whether there's anything they need to do in order to be more successful next time, or whether I had a view on what should happen to the story next. It's not a move I'd recommend, but  anybody who shows humility and dedication should be welcomed gently. However ...

Every now and again, you push somebody's ego button. I've received the odd 'rejection reply' where the author has chosen to respond to the rejection itself, just to let me know how wrong I was. Nothing you can do about people like that: they just don't know how to behave, and spanking them will only make them madder.

I've been on mailing lists where authors have blown off steam or bitched about a rejection I've given them. I did so once, myself, very early in my career. Luckily, I had some friends who let me know, in no uncertain terms, how unprofessional that was.

If you could add some clauses to the submission guidelines, what would they be?

'Charlie': I would say 'Read the guidelines'. :) There is little more disappointing than reading a story that doesn't fit our criteria.

Wessely: Read the submission guidelines! Oh wait, we already say that. Funny how so many people don’t listen!  Research your market – check out past issues of the magazine, see what we publish, see what we like.

Haynes: I update the website so I can add whatever the hell I like. Bwahaha.

Battersby: No stories about cats. No cheeky hobbit sidekicks. No stories that can be described in terms of another author. No stories that can be described as being "like concept A meets concept B". Read these guidelines again before you send your story to us. If you cannot recite these guidelines from memory, you are not ready to send to us.

How has reading the slushpile impacted your own writing, and your opinion of publishing?

'Charlie': Getting published is a matter of continued effort and writing and re-writing. I now know how subjective is the decision to include something or not. I think about my writing in a different way - I am more objectively critical of it, which I think is for the better.

Wessely: Reading the slush has had one impact on me – I want to be able to publish more of the great stuff I read. It makes me sad when I see really good stories slipping out of the ASIM editorial pool simply because we can’t fit them in upcoming issues.

Haynes: I'd recommend ALL writers get involved in slush reading, except it makes the poor souls submitting stories sound like some kind of lab rats.

Battersby: I'm far more ruthless when it comes to evaluating my own work. Short stories are like stand-up comedy, or rock and roll: brevity is important, and nothing matters quite so much as that whatever you say, you do so with attitude. The world is full of bland MOR types playing safe for fear of offending anybody and losing an audience who can't pick them out amongst the crowd anyway.

How long can you imagine yourself doing this before you go completely insane?

'Charlie': Don't know - just take it week by week. I don't feel like I am going insane for the most part - but perhaps that's because I am already there.

Wessely: I’m lucky in that I don’t have to do this all the time. I can take slushing breaks if real life gets too much. But seriously, I could do this forever – who wouldn’t, when the next story you read might be the biggest and best thing ever?

Battersby: I'm not slushing at the moment, mainly because there are no magazines with whom I have a working relationship and which I identify strongly enough with that I want to offer my services. If I had the time and money I'd be much more likely to run my own pet project over which I have some measure of control regarding the quality and style of the stories I publish. But if I had the time, and the right project came along, I'd consider it. It's a good way to keep track of one's own quality control.

Haynes: I already went insane and stopped.

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A fine note to end on. My thanks to 'Charlie', Ms. Wessely, and Messrs. Haynes and Battersby for taking the time to respond to my questions.

For the 'dedicated' writers out there, vainly labouring on your little ditties, not yet ready to accept that I'm right -- there are many valuable points raised here, a veritable checklist of mistakes you're probably making. Did you spot them?

(I could list them, but that would just be enabling you.) 

Slushpile Interview: ASIM's Readers (Part Two)

The slush readers for Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine continue in their combined effort to frustrate me, refusing to be baited by my leading questions. (See Part One if you missed it.)

How has your perspective changed since you began?

Wessely: Oh, I’m FAR more picky now than I used to be! I’m also much better at judging stories outside my own personal tastes. I try to be more critical of what I read, and I often think, "yes, it’s a good story, but is it GREAT? Is there something special about this that will appeal to an editor enough to fill pages with it?"

Haynes: Okay, at first I wanted to grab the almost-there stories and tell the authors how to fix them. But then they would have been my stories, not theirs. It's not luck, it's not who you know - just make sure your story has all the elements and is written as well as, or better than, the stories you've read in the mag. (If you haven't read an issue of the mag you're submitting to, you are so wasting your time.)

Battersby: I'm less tolerant of "lightweight" stories than I used to be. Short stories, in particular, have to confront and undermine the status quo, not reinforce it. Even if the author sets out to write a humorous quest fantasy with cheeky hobbit sidekicks (and may syphilis rot your descendants if you do), they need to act against the 'comfort-eating' aspects of literature. It's a crowded field. Attitude counts.

'Charlie': I am more often tempted not to read the whole thing. I have come round to the opinion though that if a story can't bring me in within the first four paragraphs then it is quite flawed. I do still read to the end to give the author a fair consideration of what I think could be improved if I am rejecting it. Basically, anything that causes me to be jolted out of the story world the author has created is a bad thing.

Tell me numbers. How many, how fast, how often, how few deserving of attention?

Wessely: ASIM is in the high 7000s for submissions [over] five and a half years, an average of around 1400 a year. Luckily I haven’t had to read them all myself! When I slush, I might read five or six a week usually, but a lot more when I’m editing [an upcoming issue].

Haynes: New slush readers often let through borderline stories because they think editors can work with the author to really turn an average story into something special. Well, editors already have a lot of good stories to choose from so this doesn't happen very often. Out of 100, 80-90 are an immediate 'no thanks'. Writing not up to scratch, no ending, no point, clone of a recent TV episode, gruesome horror, you name it. 10-20 are maybes, worth a second look by another reader. And sometimes one is a standout.

Battersby: In general, of every ten stories I read, maybe three will strike me as worth a second look. Of those three, maybe one in every nine or twelve will strike me as being something original. I've read a lot of SF over the years. Very few stories don't have readily memorable precedents. For [magazine slush reading], I'd average a dozen or so stories a month, which isn't a huge turnover by any means. Competitions are different. I've judged a few, and reading 100-120 stories in a fortnight wouldn't be unusual.

'Charlie': All are deserving of attention but some get more than others. When a story really draws me in I still find myself reading it just for the pleasure of a good read.

What proportion of the slushpile is: Right for your market (whether or not it makes it)?

'Charlie': 90% 

Wessely: 2/7

Haynes: Most of it.

Battersby: Less than a third. Ultimately, outside of quote requirements, I'd probably publish 5-10% of stories I've received purely on their literary merits.

Wrong but otherwise publishable?

'Charlie': 5% 

Wessely: 1/7

Haynes: Very little. We've published some dark horror in the past, even though our guidelines discourage it. But if I'm slushing and I get a gross-out story with nasty elements to it, it's a no and I don't care how well written it is.

Battersby: Again, less than a third. A number of stories published by almost every magazine are published because of space requirements rather than the quality of the story itself, so there's always a home for a competently written tale, even if it doesn't fit my particular requirements.

Lacking a certain something?

'Charlie': 40% 

Wessely: 4/7

Haynes: Most of it. It's a common fault.

Battersby: The vast majority. Anywhere up to 90% of stories, including many that I see in print, fulfil all the basic requirements of a competent story without possessing, in any way, anything to raise them above the rest of the slushpile. Such stories tend to find a readership because they don't confront the reader, who's seen it all before and isn't afraid of it. Equally, if they never find a home, the author will be left scratching their head as to why, when the reason is as simple as the fact that the editor has seen it all before, and better. 

Sophomoric?

'Charlie': 10% 

Wessely: 2/7

Haynes: I don't keep count. I used to read every story right to the bitter end, but after a while you get wily and give up after 3-4 pages, jump ahead 50 pages to see whether the farmboy is king yet, then zap the submission.

Battersby: Almost everybody goes through this phase, assuming they sell more than a story or two over the years. Stories in this category are probably the second largest variety I come across: the simple "I've read a lot of 50s SF" stuff; the "all-men are bad" feminist manifestoes, or worse, their male, anti-woman equivalents; the Bradbury clones; the Ellison clones; God help me, the Jordan clones. This stuff isn't bad, per se. It's just lazy and ignorant of history, and easily rejected.

Grossly incompetent?

'Charlie': 2% 

Wessely: 1/7

Haynes: Not really. It's art, not mathematics or engineering, so measuring competence is hard unless you're talking literacy (and I see you're about to.)

Battersby: It happens. Anyone can write a story. Writing it well is another matter entirely. Most of the time, this kind of story is written by someone who has no idea about the genre they've chosen. If they continue to churn out such stuff, well, you don't hear about them for very long.

Functionally illiterate?

'Charlie': 0% 

Wessely: 1/7

Haynes: Very little. Most of the subs are quite well- to very well written. You see some mags arguing that opening themselves up to electronic subs would lead to a swamp filled with poor quality mush, but we haven't seen that.

Battersby: Very few, actually. It takes a rare type of self-belief to write something so abysmally bad and then couple it to a belief that it's only good enough for the small and micro press. Most of the insanely awful creators bypass our level of the industry and go straight to inflicting their precious gifts upon the slushpiles of Asimov's and F&SF. Once those markets reject them, they either lose heart or start paying more attention to the PublishAmerica ads.

(Part Three to follow.)

Slushpile Interview: ASIM's First Line of Defence (Part One)

Most fiction magazines begin with the noblest of intentions -- namely, to provide the founders with a venue for pseudonymously printing their own crap, while revelling in the capricious totalitarianism of editorial power, sitting on submissions for an indefinite exclusivity period and waiting for enough subscription payments to cover the bar tab from last issue's launch party.

Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine is of course completely different, founded instead on the utterly absurd notion that the world needs more quality Australian short science fiction. They have, at least, made their submissions process fantastically complex -- instead of a couple of no-talent hacks who've barely read the genre screening all the submissions by throwing them down a stairway and keeping the ones that land face up, they have ... they ... I'll let them explain it:

When a story arrives it is entered into a submissions management program developed explicitly for Andromeda Spaceways, affectionately dubbed "Slush-o-matic". The author details are stripped, and the story is then sent to a random reader. At this stage, the reader marks it with a "Yes", "No", or a "Maybe". "No"s are sent back to the author (often with reader comments), "Maybe"s are sent to another random reader for a second opinion, and "Yes"s are send to round two.
In Round 2, the story sent to three different readers, each of whom gives it a rating between 1 and 5, with 1 being great and 5 being the opposite. Once all three second-round readers have rated the story, the ratings are added up, and compared to an arbitrary minimum number (which varies a bit depending on circumstances). At this stage, the reader will get either a Reject (with all the reader comments attached) or a Hold.
A Hold request means that your story has passed into the Round 3, and is in with a real chance. It means that your submission is considered good enough to go into an issue of  Andromeda Spaceways, and you should feel proud because it is in about the top 10% of all stories received. It will be placed in the luxurious Slushpool for the editors of upcoming issues to ogle. However, with the number of submissions we receive, only about 1 story in 3 makes it out of the Slushpool and into print. If no editor selects it within two-three months, the story is reluctantly booted out of the Slushpool and back to the author (again, with reader comments attached).

(Source)

Got that? What's the bet the guy who came up with that works or used to work in public service?

Several of the members of the Round 1 Slush Reading Team (they have jerseys) agreed, nay volunteered, to be interviewed for my drawn-out and now appallingly overdue Slushpile Awareness Month. They are:

• Simon Haynes, biographer of the only man I would trust to move my furniture across the galaxy
• Lee Battersby, creator of fine short fiction and the accidental destroyer of fine novels-in progress
• Tehani Wessely, who may or may not be Tehani Croft (which either way sounds like a variation on delicious Indian dish, as prepared by an English chef), and
• 'Charlie', my pseudonym for an interviewee who wishes anonymity.

I've combined the interviews, to heighten the suspense.

---

What is your experience with slush reading?

Wessely: I’ve been slushreading off and on for ASIM for almost six years, since the publishing group that produces it formed and opened for submissions in 2001.

Haynes: I read Slush for ASIM from issue 1 until ... lord, I can't remember. The bells, the bells.

Battersby: I sub-edited an issue of ASIM (#11), was a slush reader for Ideomancer, and was submissions editor for Ticonderoga Online. I'm currently at large.

'Charlie': Overall very positive. I enjoy getting the chance to give feedback to writers and to read the stories before they get to the magazine.

How on earth did you get roped in to it, and what makes you do it?

Wessely: As a founding member of the Andromeda Spaceways Publishing Co-operative Ltd, slushing was simply part of what we did. I still do it when I can, because I edit for ASIM regularly and it’s the best way to find absolute gems that come through the slush.

Haynes: At the time it was part and parcel of being involved in the magazine. Then I realised I could take on other tasks like maintaining the subs list, printing all the envelopes, posting all the magazines and maintaining the website, and so I did those instead. More work, less stress.

Battersby: With ASIM, I was dating the editor, and stepped into the breach when the person who was supposed to be sub-editing withdrew from the issue in order to concentrate on her own upcoming volume of the magazine.

'Charlie': Another slusher friend invited me to join. It works to spur on my own work and I do make comparisons like 'If this is getting through then surely my stories would be worth sending in!'

What qualifies you to judge other people's babies?

Wessely: I think you’re only as qualified as you think you are! I’ve been reading in the speculative fiction arena for over 15 years. I know what I like, and I also know what gets published, done to death, well reviewed, bagged severely, awarded …  I try to use this knowledge to form an idea of what editors might be able to use, for whatever the reason.

Haynes: I can tell whether something works or not. I've had short fiction published in ASIM, and you'd have to admit that gives me an insight into what the mag will and won't print. (And no, I didn't have to slush my own slush.)

Battersby: A degree in Writing, 50-plus stories in print, and a fair record in the teaching and reviewing of writing, would be the serious answer, I guess. In practical terms, it's important to have a strong view on what makes a good story, an innate understanding of the terms of reference of the magazine's guidelines (in my experience, just because an editorial team can pronounce words like 'pulp' or 'gonzo', it doesn't necessarily follow that they understand what the words mean).

'Charlie': I am offering judgement but I see it more as an appraisal. I am a writer too, I offer other writers the level of courtesy and consideration I would like to think my work gets when I send it in.

(Part Two to follow.)

Slushpile Interview: Spencer Ellsworth

Despite what the following interview might lead you to believe, Spencer Ellsworth is more than just a slush-reading intern for a leading literary agency (that has two blogs but no website). He's a first-time father trying to balance work commitments with baby's flagrant disregard for circadian biorhythms. He's also the proud subject of the sexiest back-of-the-head author photo I've seen in many a while.

More than that, Spencer Ellsworth was once one of you.

As an unpublished writer now reading slush for little more than kudos, I was keen to hear his opinion on the process of sifting the slushpile for the rare submission that's even worth an agent's attention. So when he volunteered to be interviewed, well naturally I jumped at the chance after a few weeks. When he submitted his responses via email, I immediately moved them to the Maybe pile.

If you're curious about the slush process, and just how long it takes a new reader to become jaded, read on. (If you're not curious, that might explain why you're still unpublished, and why your writing is like a grainy photocopy of a nineteenth century potboiler.)

101 Reasons: So, what qualifies you to judge other people's babies? (I mean, a *lot* of people have an English degree.)

That's a good question. I helped birth and nurture a science fiction magazine in college [UVSC], called Warp and Weave. I attended a by-audition-only writing workshop, Orson Scott Card's 2005 Literary Boot Camp, which parleyed me into the Codex Writer's Group, where I met Jenny [Rappaport] and critiqued some of her stories. Obviously that was my best criteria, because Jenny recommended me to Lori [Perkins].

What proportion of Perkins' 30,000 queries/year is your responsibility? How many, how fast, how often, how few deserving of attention?

The proportion changes depending on how busy Lori/Jenny are with their other clients. Each week Jenny and Lori send me around 50 emails. That's not much, but remember that in my first week they sent me a combined total of three hundred from their backlog. And I've only been doing this for a month, part-time.

Out of those, I've asked for partials from forty percent of the queries. It's not hard to write a decent query. But of those partials, I've sent two on to Jenny and Lori, and requested rewrites from three. The rest I quit on around the third page.

How has your perspective changed since the first week?

My first day I made a list of "maybe queries" and set them aside. At the end of the day I looked at them and realized that they were all rejection material for one reason or another, and I had been trying to find reasons to keep them.

Having written several slush novels, it still hurts me to reject someone's baby, even if they can't use gerunds correctly or insert a comma every four words. But there's no use in flawed but interesting queries. I'm better off rejecting anything that looks like it might not make it. If I let it through, it'll be worse when Jenny or Lori or a publisher doesn't take it.

How long did it take to establish a rhythm or routine?

I'm still working on that. I can go through about twenty emails an hour just saying "send me a partial" or "Thanks, but not for us." Rejecting partials is harder. I often don't read past the first three pages, so they get a note that says something like "It didn't grab me" or that references some good technique for beginning writers, like "don't introduce more than two characters in your first scene." But there are a few that are almost there, so I give detailed critiques on those, because I want the writers to make the changes and send them back. I have to care a lot to write a detailed critique.

Barring agent's tastes, industry vagaries and market forces, how many books are "good enough" to be published?

Out of three hundred queries, I passed along two to Lori and Jenny. Then of course, they have to like them, an editor has to like them, and a publishing house has to buy them. Two.

How far "out there" do some people go? Worst/strangest/most elaborate?

There are some rules on queries that everyone should know. Don't tell me how much your mother loved it. Don't tell me "I know agents ignore queries from unknown writers..." (So you know we're a snob club and you want in?)

One guy mentioned that he was extremely handsome and could eat X pieces of bacon in one sitting. He got a partial request, not because of that, but because his novel sounded funny.

If you could add some clauses to the submission guidelines, what would they be?

This is assuming that people read the submission guidelines? Because if they did, they would see that Lori prefers the first five pages be pasted into the query, but NO ONE DOES IT.

I would probably add some information that I've said before: make sure your grammar is perfect, give information about character, conflict and setting, don't introduce too many characters at once, don't use omniscient voice, show, don't tell, make your characters likeable, and present a compelling situation right off the bat.

How has reading the slushpile impacted your own writing, and your opinion of publishing?

Slushing is the easy way to learn to recognize mistakes in your own writing—easy in the sense that you hit yourself over the head with others' mistakes. I can see now which ideas are worth it and which are crap, or tell when I've really screwed up a story. Of course, it's much harder to let go and draft, because my inner editor has become a beast from overfeeding.

Publishing—I actually feel sorry for them. There is so much slush. The first time I had a novel rejected, at the age of 21, I thought, "They could at least take the time to really look at it. It's good once you get into it." If I had known how deluged the publishing world was by first-timers with those same thoughts, I would have cried for them. And I would have gone back and revised my novel.

How long can you imagine yourself doing this before you go completely insane?

What?  I couldn't hear you over the worms.
Seriously, I love slush. I just wish there were less of it. Like, one-tenth.

My thanks to Spencer for this interview. I love his use of 'slushing' as a verb.

Those of you who believe 101 Reasons is intended as reverse psychology may observe that the collective advice and commentary herein is more useful to your goal of getting through the slush stage than Lori Perkins' business card with a handwritten direct phone number. If you feel you haven't learned something, then it's probably time for you to stop writing, and save Spencer the half-minute it would take to determine that your work is an uninspired collection of basic errors. If you think you're already following his advice, then you're running out of reasons to justify your failure. 

NaNoWriMo: The Interviews

My thanks to the NaNoWriMo participants who consented to be interviewed for this series, most of whom were fully aware that I wasn't taking them or their efforts at all seriously.

In case you missed any, here's a list of the interviewees:

• Simon Haynes, SF novelist
• Daniel Hatadi, crime short fiction writer
• Heather Dudley, Nano veteran
• Mike Toot, non-fiction writer
• S.Y. Affolee, Nano veteran
• Stephen Blackmoore, crime short fiction writer
• Liane Gentry Skye, non-fiction writer
• Special Guest: The Rejecter, literary agency assistant

Taken together, they form a shocking interesting perspective on NaNoWriMo, and a healthly suppository antidote to the usual tone at 101 Reasons, should you need one.

(Or you could just read the National No Writing Month: Post-Season Wrap Up.)

Special Guest Interview: The Rejecter on NaNoWriMo

While compiling the NaNo interviews I've been publishing this week, I had the bright idea to get the literary agent's perspective on NaNoWriMo, and the NaNos who submit their "novels" to agents in the first weeks of December.

I thought, of course, that it would open a floodgate of deliciously quotable sarcasm. But I forgot to consider the very thing that agents are infamous for. (Next year I'll send out hundreds of requests, months in advance. They'll love that.)

The one who did reply turned out to be, of all things, an enthusiastic NaNo participant.

The Rejecter is an assistant at a New York literary agency, which means she's the person who wades into the slushpile, looking for the scraps of usable driftwood. If you're wondering why you're in the 95% of submissions that get rejected immediately, read her blog. When you still can't figure it out, come back here and stop writing.

She posted her responses to this interview on her blog a few days ago. You can compare and contrast, and see where I've mangled edited her responses.

Regular readers of 101 Reasons will note the leading direction of my questions.

How did NaNoWriMo first appear on your radar?

I'm a writer myself and 2005 was the first year I participated because I heard about it through fellow unpublished writers. I have never heard of it at work and when I mention it, honestly, very few people know what it is.

NaNoWriMo, to my knowledge, has not hit the cultural consciousness of agents and the publishing industry yet, despite the publication of Chris Baty's (founder of NaNoWriMo) book, No Plot? No Problem! A Low-Stress, High-Velocity Guide to Writing a Novel in 30 Days. In the book he discusses how 50,000 words is not actually an acceptable length for an adult book, but he chose it because it was a more reasonable goal for people achieve. Most literary agents are looking for first -time novelists to keep their work in the 70k-100k range.

Have you received queries or submissions that have mentioned NaNoWriMo? If so, have any of these submissions been accepted for representation, or at least passed up the ladder?

If the agent would recognize it, they would actually probably pass on it, for a number of reasons. First of all, 50k is just too low unless it's YA or a children's book. Second, only the fastest writers can write a quality full-length novel in a month - most authors need a year. The speed at which it was written is an indication against it. Third, if they wrote it in November and they submit it in December or January, they obviously haven't done the heavy polishing any manuscript needs before it's ready to be submitted.

I honestly haven't seen anyone who has said they did the novel for NaNoWriMo, but as the program gains in popularity, I have no doubt that it will eventually start showing up in query letters and the agency world will collectively grown.

Is there a noticeable "spike" in queries or submissions, particularly for 50,000 word novels, in November to February?

Most people do NaNoWriMo for fun, and not everyone finishes. Serious writers who do it realize that they need time to revise and polish it - at least a few months. Besides, if a few extra queries come in during this time, we wouldn't notice. Query letters tend to spike in the fall, get heavy up until Christmas time, and then drop off again until about mid-January. This is because writers, like agents, are on vacation in the summer (August is notoriously the slowest month) and during the last week of December. They pick up again in February and March. Agencies review dozens, maybe hundreds of query letters a day. They're not going to notice a few more.

Do you believe that participation in NaNoWriMo is a "good thing" for inexperienced writers?

Yes. I have been writing all my life, but I found it to be a useful exercise, which is why I'm repeating it this year. To start blank on November 1st with only the vaguest book idea and then to try and produce massive amounts of material by November 30th is an experience that builds stamina and quick-thinking. I am always surprised how much the plot I might have planned will change as I go along.

Do you believe it creates unrealistic expectations for participants?

I don't think 1667 words a day (or something like that) is particularly crazy, but it's asking a lot of someone who doesn't want to write for a living and hasn't been writing for many years. Many people don't hit 50K, but the point is, they tried, and they learned. Also, November is generally a very busy month for just about everyone, with the school cycle being what it is and the holidays approaching. In his book, Baty discusses why he put it in November instead of a month like June or July. I don't remember precisely what he said off-hand and my copy of his book is not at-hand, but I think it was something about how the program teaches you how to make time for writing despite your schedule. If you have lots of time, you may not actually be as productive as if you have to set aside an hour a day and you sit down at the computer knowing you can't waste that hour sitting at the screen or you're screwed for the day.

If you were in charge of NaNoWriMo, what rules would you set or change?

I would give people a little star next to their username on the lists for every year they've succeeded in "winning" NaNoWriMo. That would make of my friends who have been hitting 50K every year more accomplished - because it is an accomplishment.

The notion that someone who reads queries for a living would still have faith in the principles of NaNoWriMo is truly astonishing.

Then again, the serious (or hopelessly ambitious) writers among may have noticed this little gem in there:

Agencies review dozens, maybe hundreds of query letters a day.

That's thousands a month, tens of thousands a year. Of which only 5% make it past the first filter.

Now if we could just get that other 95% to stop writing, or at least slow down ... would the publishing industry be a better place? Or would it just put The Rejecter out of a job?

Interview: Liane Gentry Skye on NaNoWriMo

Liane Gentry Skye is the kind of overachiever who makes you think twice about the amount of time you spend playing World of Warcraft or downloading porn. She's the author of Turn Around, Bright Eyes: Snapshots from a Voyage Out of Autism's Silence. She's a mother of four, runs a non-profit organisation dedicated to supporting the families of people with autism, and yet still found time to thrash the hell out of her keyboard this month.

She has, however, completely misunderstood the concept of NaNo. After writing 64,000 words of a 50,000 word novel, she started another novel and kept counting. Her total now stands at over 74,000 words, which is just silly.


How many times have you participated in NaNoWriMo?

This is my first nano attempt. I used to have a (real) life. Honest. I swear.

What value do you place on completing NaNoWriMo?

Making my first attempt to "Nano" has helped me finally focus on story and plot instead of obsessing over pretty prose. My fiction suffers from sagging middle syndrome. I could not plot my way out of a paper bag left to my typical writing preferences. Nano forced me to just break out of the gate and think action, reaction, tools, wordcount, got to keep going.

How did you reach the 50,000 words target in 19 days?

A thousand dollar bet from this really hot guy I married didn't hurt. :) He swears I'm going to help him retire someday with my writing. OK, so he says after two beers and a blow job, but hey.

Also, I made a promise to my daughter to Nano a book for her. I intended to keep that promise. I want her to see that finishing huge projects, even when it blows to do so, can lead to bigger and better things. So I trained for this all summer. By October, I was writing 20 pages a day with a reasonable degree of comfort.

Also, I did a lot of pre-planning on my book. I knew exactly where I was going and how I intended to get there. I highly recommend the Snowflake Method. Google it. It works.

Do you plan to (eventually) submit the result for publication? If so, how much additional work do you expect to do?

Yes, that was always my intent. However, on Dec. 1, 18000 words will automatically go into the recycle bin. But with that said, those 18000 words revealed so much of my characters that just having created those facts breathed a depth into the character's actions that forced me to sit down and revise plot at 35000 words.

Did you participate in the NaNoWriMo community? How do you think the community aspect affects the experience?

I do. I've always been a strong "online" contributor. It falls back to the fact that I really don't have a "real" life right now. I'm raising two boys with autism and I have one very busy 13 year old girl.

What do you get from participating in NaNoWriMo that you couldn't get from setting your own writing targets?

An entire class of participants for a class action carpal tunnel syndrome lawsuit against Nano in December? :) I mean , really, shouldn't there have been a disclaimer issued?

Would you recommend the experience to other writers, published and unpublished?

I would "If". If you are willing to truly break from the gate and write without looking backwards, even once, Nano can provide a very freeing forum in which it becomes fun to do so.

If you were in charge of NaNoWriMo, what rules/parameters would you set?

I've been very happy with Nano as it is currently run. I would like to see Nano open their website to charities of choice. Next year, I want to Nano Words for the Wordless (people with severe autism), but right now the site does not offer that choice.

Also, the honor system method does concern me--I have worked my butt off--but then again, I haven't verified my own word count, and I won't until Nov. 30. My book isn't done yet. I still have thirty thousand words ahead of me. I won't allow myself to verify until I have typed "the end".

Training for NaNo. This has to stop. Next there'll be a pre-game show on ESPN, right after the Spelling Bee.

Interview: Stephen Blackmoore on NaNoWriMo

Stephen Blackmoore is curiously without biography. I couldn't be bothered asking him, because if he was remotely interesting, he would've posted a bio on one of the two blogs he runs/contributes to (a man with no bio and two blogs is clearly compensating for something).

He loves writing about criminals at L.A. Noir, much more than he likes writing about himself at Slap the Monkey (I told you so). He also writes short crime fiction, the shortest of which can be sampled at Flashing in the Gutters.

He's also a cheating cheater, like his alchy friend Daniel Hatadi. Both flouted the rules of NaNo by using the challenge to work on works-in-progress. I tell ya, if you can't take an anonymous, prizeless internet challenge to write the first draft of half a novel seriously ...

The curse of the NaNo is bittersweet, though: he's about 35,000 words short of the target this year. He wrote more for this interview.

How many times have you participated in NaNoWriMo, and what was the result?

Three, I think. Though only once seriously. I did my 50,000 words and let me tell you, the end result was unpublishable crap. Really, truly horrendous. But then all rough drafts are, so I might do something with it later. Like line the birdcage.

What value do you place on completing NaNoWriMo?

That's kind of a tough one. I'm doing Nano more as an enforced deadline than to try to reach 50,000 words. It's less about Nano and more about my personal writing goals.

Nano has been useful because it's an outside impetus and a focused deadline. If I were in the middle of a rewrite or other writing projects I probably wouldn't do it. But for completing a rough draft it's useful. It forces me to sit down and get the work done and be surrounded by a bunch of people trying to do the same thing. Just knowing that I'm not alone is a big help.

How much time will it take to write 50,000 words? How do you divide the workload across the 30 days?

I did it in 24 days the one time I completed. Whether I hit 50K [this time] remains to be seen. Frankly, I don't think it's very likely. I'm way behind that goal (since I'm not counting the wordcount I had before November or I'd probably have aced it by now), but since I'm trying to write something cohesive that I can do something with, I'm not too worried about it.

Do you spend any time editing/redrafting the work-in-progress during the month?

Since I'm doing this with a particular goal in mind I'll sometimes find myself going down dead ends and having to double back. I don't really delete anything, though. Just mark it for deletion later and move on.

I save most of my editing for rewrites. As Hemingway said, "The first draft of anything is crap." I like quoting Hemingway because it makes me feel smart and literate. Provided that I ignore the fact that it makes me look pretentious and arrogant. Which, for the record, I am.

Do you plan to (eventually) submit the result for publication? If so, how much additional work do you expect to do?

I do. I expect to do quite a lot rewriting before it goes anywhere. Once I get the words "The End" done on the rough I'll be tearing the whole thing apart and writing it over largely from scratch. Right now it resembles a leaky boat put together by a gang of monkeys on crack.

What do you get from participating in NaNoWriMo that you couldn't get from setting your own writing targets?

Something between a nagging and a cheering section. Nano gives it the feeling of winning a bet. It's a psychological boost.

In the grand scheme of things, though, I'll get a lot more of a psychological boost out of saying "Why, yes, I WOULD like a 3 book deal, thank you for asking." And I'm only going to get that by writing the best book I can, regardless of any artifically imposed deadlines.

Would you recommend the experience to other writers, published and unpublished?

Unpublished, absolutely. Nano does at least two things exceedingly well.

One, it forces a writer to get their ass in the chair and stay there. It forces them to work through their blocks, and figure out strategies for whacking their creativity into submission. Nobody gets a free pass.

The second thing is that it shows people that they can do it. Now, yes, I agree some people should not write. Ever. But the biggest hurdle for good writers is the perception that they can't do it. A lot of fantastic books have never been written because someone with a lot of talent and the belief that they're not good enough didn't try.

If you were in charge of NaNoWriMo, what rules/parameters would you set?

Oh dear god. None at all. It is what it is and I certainly don't want to run something like that. I think some people take it too seriously, but that's their problem not the problem of the people running it. It's fun and a challenge and I can only hope that enough people take it in that vein to keep it going the way it's been going.

His response to being interviewed?

Happy to oblige. I am nothing if not full of horseshit and opinions.

He said it.

Interview: S.Y. Affolee on NaNoWriMo

S.Y. Affolee is a pseudonym for a NaNoWriMo veteran, who's been blogging her experiences with the 50-in-30 game since 2001. She details her writing process extensively, which must be fascinating to a student of forensic literary analysis.

She passed 50k in 24 days, which makes her exactly half the word-producer that Heather is.

How many times have you participated in NaNoWriMo, and what was the result?

I've done NaNoWriMo since 2001 which means this year is my sixth. That's five 50,000+ word stories in first draft form sitting around collecting electronic dust with a sixth on its way.

What value do you place on completing NaNoWriMo?

I view the whole thing as a writing exercise. Sure it's fun and a challenge, but I don't get so worked up about it that I abandon my other responsibilities to pretend to be an unkempt and antisocial writer for one month (and reap the supposed "perks" thereof). There are no perks unless you count people looking at you funny if you happen to mention what you're doing.

How much time will it take to write 50,000 words? How do you divide the workload across the 30 days?

Hopefully I can finish before November 30 so I don't have to wrestle with the mad rush of "verifying" the 50,000 words with every other participant. I don't scrupulously look after the quota of 1,667 words per day or set specific goals. I like to have enough flexibility so I don't have to stress unnecessarily.

Do you plan to (eventually) submit the result for publication? If so, how much additional work do you expect to do?

No, I don't plan to publish my NaNoWriMo efforts. Because this is more of a writing exercise to me rather than something I'd want to inflict on the book buying public, I just leave the draft as it is. I'm primarily a short story writer-so there's always the possibility that I might borrow some ideas from my NaNoWriMo novels. But even short stories go through the wringer with extensive edits and rewrites before I even consider it finished.

Do you participate in the NaNoWriMo community? How do you think the community aspect affects the experience?

I think there's actually a certain dichotomy about the NaNoWriMo community. There's the online community and then the real life meet-ups-both have their benefits, but the atmosphere (to me, anyway) is quite different.

The online community has evolved from a chaotic, yet intimate hodgepodge from the Yahoo! Groups message board in 2001 to the chaotic and intimidating behemoth on the official site's forums today. The great thing now is that with so many participants, there's bound to be somebody who's knowledgeable about any conceivable subject. On the other hand, people are less likely to pay attention to any comments you make. This is probably why every year, I post less and less. In a lot of ways, the online community is a bit impersonal.

I've always had positive experiences with the regional meet-ups. I've been to gatherings in four different states throughout the years, and although the individuals were different, the goals were the same. I think the greatest benefit these meetings bring is accountability. If you actually know a participant in real life other than just some random blabbering on the computer screen, you're more likely to crank out those 50,000 words so you don't have to say you failed the next time you see them. Or at least that motivates me.

Would you recommend the experience to other writers, published and unpublished?

Absolutely. The motivations and goals of every participant are different and signing up for the challenge doesn't automatically make you a novelist, but there is no doubt that this will bring home the point that writing takes discipline.

If you were in charge of NaNoWriMo, what rules/parameters would you set?

I think the current rules are actually pretty fair. But perhaps the official stance does misleadingly glamorize the whole thing. I don't think people writing 50,000 words should be automatically labelled as authors and be pampered just because they're participating in this crazy challenge.

Although if I had to change any rules, I would totally lay the smackdown on the definition of what constitutes a novel. It has to be original, fictional prose. No fanfic, autobiography, non-fiction, or epic poetry. There's nothing wrong with wanting to write any of the above, but those are not original novels. There should be none of this namby-pamby "if you believe you're writing a novel, we believe you're writing a novel too."

It's refreshing to see someone so determined not to let the spectre of publication ruin a perfectly good hobby.

Interview: Mike Toot on NaNoWriMo

Mike Toot writes uninspired, mechanical prose. But then, he's paid to. He makes a decent living writing software guidebooks, if you assume "decent living" means he is able to eat without getting a real job. The Big Guy in Seattle even offered him a job (not personally, he's got monkeys for that), but he turned it down for the freedom to write fiction. This, of course, the kind of biography that only looks good after you're successful.

He's written nearly 48,000 word on his young adult fantasy novel for this year's NaNoWriMo (what is it with geeks and fantasy?). Not bad for someone who claimed to be quitting writing, back in May of this year.

How many times have you participated in NaNoWriMo, and what was the result?

Once, in 2004. Got to 12,500 words and quit about ten days in. I started with an idea that came to me complete. I was excited about it, but the more I got into the "just write it" phase of NaNo, the more my inner writer rebelled, finally constipating and not spitting out even crap onto the page. The story just wouldn't go any farther, and I quit.

It's an interesting problem for me: I write for a living, and can produce material on demand that's decent enough (in others' eyes) to get paid for it. With fiction, it's a completely different set of muscles that's used. While some cross-training benefit is available -- I know how to start a fire by rubbing two dry clichés together -- the fiction writing muscles are nowhere near as strong, and it takes me longer to feel comfortable with what I'm writing.

What value do you place on completing NaNoWriMo?

I don't place any meaningful value in completing 50,000 words, or on getting that many words done in thirty days. It's a tool, one to help me exercise my fiction muscles, and I fully expect to toss out half (or more) of what I've written and do it over. To the extent it helps me work on skills that weren't worked on when writing my guidebooks, it's valuable.

How much time will it take to write 50,000 words? How do you divide the workload across the 30 days?

I've learned that 2000 words is about the limit of what I can do; 3000 is a lesson in agony endurance.

Do you spend any time editing/redrafting the work-in-progress during the month?

Not at all. In fact, I re-read the last paragraph, and then pick up from there. I don't go back and fiddle.

Do you plan to (eventually) submit the result for publication? If so, how much additional work do you expect to do?

The answer is yes, and as much as the story needs. I'm a professional writer, and I write to pay the bills. I don't spec-write my other material; I get the contract up front and then do the writing. The novel market is a bit different, in that you need to have finished work product to get the first contract.

But I also have enough objective experience to know when my writing sucks and when it's good. Some stories just don't turn out. If that's the case, then it turns into drawer fodder. I won't send it out if it's only "pretty good" or "my Vampire: The Masquerade group liked it" or "my cat purred when I read it aloud to her." I'm not going to pour hours into it in hopes I can make it better. No sense in polishing a turd if I'm just going to flush it.

Do you participate in the NaNoWriMo community? How do you think the community aspect affects the experience?

I've posted, but I stay away from deep, involved discussions. In general I learn best by writing, not by reading other people talk about their own writing. Sometimes reading the other posts about writing is like being in junior high again: someone says, "I'm so ugly...." and everyone else chimes in, "No, you're not! You're cute!" Urgh.

What do you get from participating in NaNoWriMo that you couldn't get from setting your own writing targets?

I got a highly visible club I can use with two buddies, both of whom write well, to encourage them to get off their butts and start writing. I also think accountability towards others helps with my own writing. I've set targets before and not made them; and after a while I get tired of using Thomas Mann's excuse, "A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people." Okay, so it's tougher for me to spit out the word count. Time to crap or get off the pot.

Would you recommend the experience to other writers, published and unpublished?

Yes, with reservations. I think people should feel free to try NaNo, write whatever they choose, and if they like it enough to try some more writing, then that's totally cool. Out of such simple starts are great works born. But the central conceit, that putting 50,000 words into one document constitutes a "novel" and makes the person writing it a "writer" or "novelist" has as much validity as a belief in Santa Claus.

Unfortunately many people think they can tell stories but they really can't. Hell, most people can't tell jokes, much less stories: they can't tell the setup to a joke so that the punchline makes sense, or they mangle the punchline after meandering through the setup. Yet these same people think they can sustain 50,000 words of story? I honestly wish them luck. Label them a writer? No way.

If you were in charge of NaNoWriMo, what rules/parameters would you set?

Put in a requirement that, if any work developed during NaNo is accepted for publication, 10% of the proceeds goes to a charity of the author's choice. This should help cut down on the number of Nano works submitted to publishers and keep the "novels" in deep, dark drawers where they belong.

For someone who clearly understands every reason to stop writing, I'm surprised he's still going. But I can see why he's on target to complete NaNo this year - judging from his responses, the man can pad.

Interview: Heather Dudley on NaNoWriMo

Heather Dudley is a Georgian fantasy writer, with an unhealthy obsession with dragons. She is a Municipal Liaison for NaNoWriMo, charged with the unenviable task of babying other NaNo's in her geographical area through their depression when the "Look at Me! I'm a Writer!" buzz wears off. I guess she's also the one who calls International House of Pancakes to book the local winners' party.

She blitzed NaNoWriMo this year, belting out 50,000 words in 12 days. (If you finish in under 15 days, Thomas Pynchon sends you a card.)

How many times have you participated in NaNoWriMo, and what was the result?

2006 marks my fifth attempt. Only my second win, though. The first year (2002) I completed the challenge in 14 days. The second: chose entirely the wrong novel to write. Heavily researched biblical fiction does not lend itself well to the let-loose spirit of NaNo. The third, personal drama just plain annihilated any attempt I might have made. The fourth (last year) I had a baby November 16. Hard to write a novel while pushing a melon out of your crotch. I did manage 14k before I had her, though.

What value do you place on completing NaNoWriMo?

NaNoWriMo taught me to shut up and write. Quit fretting over perfect prose and just get the stuff down. I also haven't had trouble with writer's block since my first year. To quote Hemingway: "The first draft of anything is shit." NaNoWriMo gets that first draft out of the way in a hurry.

How did you reach the 50,000 words target in 12 days?

Too much free time. And typing 120 WPM. I also gave myself RSI in the process: Don't try this at home, kiddies.

Do you spend any time editing/redrafting the work-in-progress during the month?

Not one moment. I even made sure to write each chapter in a separate file to discourage myself from reading back. Too many people sabotage themselves by constantly re-writing before they even finish. What good does that do, exactly?

Do you plan to (eventually) submit the result for publication? If so, how much additional work do you expect to do?

Of course! I figure on at least two hours of revisions, plus four days of letting my friends tell me how wonderful it is, and it ought to be ready to go.

Seriously though, it'll be a long road to publication. This is only the first draft of many, many rewrites. It has potential. But I'm going to have to do a lot of mining to get to the diamonds in THAT story.

How do you think the community aspect affects the experience?

Community is the main reason the NaNoWriMo beast has grown to the proportions it has. Many people participate as strictly a self challenge. It's the camaraderie that draws people in. You're doing this insane event with tens of thousands of others, at exactly the same time.

I'm something of a know-it-all, and like to tell others what dumbasses they're being. So I frequent the Rules and Regs forum. It's also great because you can look at the excerpts people post, the plot synopses they try to get opinions on, and their awful, awful characters, and you realize that hey, your stuff ain't half bad after all.

What do you get from participating in NaNoWriMo that you couldn't get from setting your own writing targets?

Accountability. You've got a public humiliation in the works if you don't finish. No one will tell you that you suck, (in fact, there's a whole forum devoted to commiserating with other failures), but YOU will know that you suck. And that's a powerful motivator. It also forces to to work on a deadline... a very unreasonable, arbitrary deadline. Makes deadlines from editors seem gentle by comparison.

Would you recommend the experience to other writers, published and unpublished?

Definitely. I know of several published authors who use NaNoWriMo to give their own projects a kickstart. It's a great experience, something I think most people should try at least once. If for no other reason, than to realize that writing isn't as easy as it looks. Writing involves commitment, DAILY commitment. And if you can't cut it for 30 freaking days (1667 words a day is NOT that much), then you have no business trying to be a writer. Plus, it's just plain fun.

If you were in charge of NaNoWriMo, what rules/parameters would you set?

Really, I think they've got most of it just about right. Their motto should be "shut up and write, stupid."

What I hate is that it isn't against the rules to quote other people, just to quote yourself. Say what? You can write a novel in November, and you can't use your previously written prose, but you can quote an entire song, or even term papers, if you want to? What the hell kind of sense does that make? If YOU did not write it, then it shouldn't count. You can't say "I wrote 50k in November" if you write 45k and quote your favorite author for the other 5k. Just write the freaking book, already. It's like trying to cheat on an open-book test in school.

I'd also make killing the padding people mandatory. Someone in the rules and regs forum asked if he could quote a term paper he just wrote in his novel and have it count, and just say his character wrote it. Sure, it's not against the rules, but it strikes me as incredibly freaking stupid. Fortunately, he will never be published.

Her response to being interviewed by 101 Reasons?

If one writer stops clogging my future agents' slush pile because of this site... it's all worth it.

With more Municipal Liaisons like Heather, who needs eneNaNomies?

Interview: Daniel Hatadi on NaNoWriMo

Like any good interview with a crime writer should, this one has a twist ending.

Daniel Hatadi is a Sydney-based crime writer, with two natural advantages over others in the field: a cool, tough-sounding, symmetrical name, and a ruggedly handsome face, both of which will look great in hardback and softcover. He's the author of Danny Hawaii, perhaps the most famous series detective character who's only appeared in one story.

He's written nearly 27,000 words for this year's NaNo, way under target. Will he make it?

What value do you place on completing NaNoWriMo?

A friend of mine has put up a bottle of 12 year old Springbank single malt scotch whisky if I win. I place a lot of value on this.

How much time will it take to write 50,000 words? How do you divide the workload across the 30 days?

I write madly until just before the point where my girlfriend can't stand me anymore. Then I take a break. You could say my workload is mostly random.

Do you spend any time editing/redrafting the work-in-progress during the month?

In the first week I was guilty of going back and tweaking a few sentences for rhythm and correctness, but now I write like the wind. May the Lord have mercy on my chair.

Do you plan to (eventually) submit the result for publication? If so, how much additional work do you expect to do?

I imagine that after a few months of revision and workshopping I'll have something ready to submit. Can't see myself living off a bottle of whisky forever.

What do you get from participating in NaNoWriMo that you couldn't get from setting your own writing targets?

Sure, I'm a likable enough bloke, but since I started writing, my list of friends has dwindled down to something far less than 70,000. That's approximately how many people have entered NaNoWriMo this year. That's a lot of motivation right there.

Would you recommend the experience to other writers, published and unpublished?

I'd recommend absolutely everyone to do it just the once. To do it the second time you'd have to be almost paralysed by alcohol. Now where's that Springbank?

If you were in charge of NaNoWriMo, what rules/parameters would you set?

Since around half the entrants are writing in the fantasy genre, I'd allow them to continue a previously unfinished novel, as long they wrote 50,000 new words. Fantasy novels aren't taken seriously until you need a wheelbarrow to get the book home.

Thanks for your time.

My fingers are so calloused I can't feel my keyboard. A few extra words simply can't hurt me anymore.

All well and good. Like all great crime writers before him, driven by whisky. Calloused fingers. Numb to the pain. Prepared to drive his girlfriend almost to the point of not standing him anymore. He's like a young, breathing Mickey Spillane, with a soul patch.

Except earlier this week, he makes a shocking confession on his blog. He's not going to make it. He's way under, bogged down in plot details, and trying to spin it as a decision to focus on quality. He's readjusted his ambition to a paltry 35,000 words.

Bah. Spillane could do that in a weekend, after drinking a gallon of rum, and still go seven rounds with Hemingway in the alley behind a Key West speakeasy.

You'll notice, in the comments section of his post, there's no mention of a certain bottle of Springbank.

Interview: Simon Haynes on NaNoWriMo

Like all the best Australian science fiction writers, Simon Haynes was born in England. He is the author of the Hal Spacejock series of novels, with #3, Just Desserts, due out Jan 2007. He's also one of those harmless, benevolent geeks who writes free software, including tools for writers. He's written over 41,000 words for this year's NaNoWriMo.

How many times have you participated in NaNoWriMo, and what was the result?

I participated for the first time in 2005 and finished 6 days early with 51,000 words or so. It made me realise I COULD write a first draft every couple of months if I really had to. Mind you, I was stuffed for 6 weeks afterwards and had to go straight into editing Hal 3.

How much time will it take to write 50,000 words? How do you divide the workload across the 30 days?

1700 words per day minimum. When I get near a milestone I pull a little extra. For example, right now I'm on 22602 so if I write 2400 tomorrow I'll have broken 25k. I spend 2-3 hours a day on my 1700 words, some of it actually typing.

Do you spend any time editing/redrafting the work-in-progress during the month?

None at all, but I do insert notes and move the scenes around in yWriter. Otherwise I wouldn't come up with the new scenes I have to write to get the book done.

Do you plan to (eventually) submit the result for publication? If so, how much additional work do you expect to do?

I'm writing the fourth book in the Hal Spacejock series for Nano. The first three are under contract (with two published and one coming out in Jan 07) and I recently signed with an agent in the UK who is looking to get the books published over there. Given the success of the first two and the level of interest in the third, I think more books in the series are likely - although not if I don't write them. I handed in the final final manuscript for Hal 3 in September, so October was a month of rest and now I'm into Hal 4 with a vengeance.

Additional work? Months and months worth. Each of my published novels underwent 8 months of editing, on and off. There's much, much more work in the shaping and polishing than anyone with a first draft could possibly imagine.

What do you get from participating in NaNoWriMo that you couldn't get from setting your own writing targets?

Public embarrassment and humiliation. If I say I'm going to do something, in public, I have to do it. I've already bought Flight Simulator X as my completion present, and it's sitting above my monitor now, unopened. If I don't do the 50k words, back it goes.

Would you recommend the experience to other writers, published and unpublished?

Yes. Teaches you to just write without being critical of every sentence. Given what I said earlier about the huge amount of work I put into editing and rewrites, you can see why finishing a first draft is a useful first step.

If you were in charge of NaNoWriMo, what parameters would you set?

Calling 50k words a novel is daft, and they don't let you start with an existing work. I'd say participants should be allowed to complete last year's half a novel this year, provided they reached 50k last year.

As you can see, Simon Haynes could be a poster-boy for NaNoWriMo. He almost makes it sound like a good idea. It's hard to argue when the end result is a publishable novel.

I hope the next author is easier to mock.

Coming Soon: 101 Reasons vs NaNoWriMo

I've recently conducted email interviews with some participants in NaNoWriMo, to find out why they think NaNo is a good idea, and not a total waste of time, and possibly even talent.

The interviewees range from seasoned amateurs to genuine, honest-to-goodness got-paid-for-it published novelists. They can't all be utterly wrong-headed, can they? We'll see later this week, but for now, here's a taste of what was said:

"I used to have a (real) life. Honest. I swear."

"My fingers are so calloused I can't feel my keyboard."

"There are no perks unless you count people looking at you funny if you happen to mention what you're doing."

"Calling 50k words a novel is daft."

"Most people can't tell jokes, much less stories."

"Hard to write a novel while pushing a melon out of your crotch."

"I agree some people should not write. Ever."

Stay tuned.