Some writers don’t even own printers (John Scalzi comes to mind). Markets are evolving — not quite matching pace, but at least trailing the pack. Analog and Asimov both use the electronic submissions system developed by Neil Clarke. I’ve always had a printer — usually one, a trusty laser dedicated to printing manuscripts — because I like marking up hard copy but I’m economical when it comes to submissions and response time.

Every story has a life. Literally, in my case. Recently, I built a spreadsheet called Storylife where every story has a sheet of its own. In it, I track the where the story is gone and where the story is going next. Every new sheet is seeded with a list of pro markets that I’ve created based on an analysis of my own submission records, SFWA qualifying markets, and my own reading. It’s a who’s who of where I’d like to be published. That initial list gets culled of markets that don’t fit the story and sorted by best fit and response time. Non-pro markets get added to that list as I near the end.

Most of the markets take electronic subs, but there are a few that don’t. Fantasy & Science Fiction. Interzone. Black Static. Black Gate. Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet. With Storylife, I’m making myself submit to those markets even though it’s a little less convenient than usual. F&SF is the outlier in terms of response time; they’re faster than most of their electronic counterparts. With the rest, factoring in transit time, you’re looking at maybe two or three months, if you’re lucky.

For me, the decision to submit by mail comes down to measuring the odds, which involves a little bit of rejectomancy. I don’t submit a story until I’m reasonably confident in it and the first few markets I send it out to are electronic with a quick turnaround time. If I get straight up form rejections in the average response time, I might take another look to see what might be keeping me in the slush pile before sending it back out. If I get a string of “close, but not quite” rejections then I feel as reasonably sure as any doubting writer can that the story just needs to find the right editor and I’ll make the investment to submit by mail.

There are financial logistics involved in deciding to submit by mail. Mailing from Canada to the US cost me $8.57 today, just in postage. It would have been cheaper if I’d had US postage — $0.88 for two stamps vs. $4.50 for an International Relay Coupon — but getting stamps takes a little maneuvering. Add in the cost of the 9×12 and business size envelope, printing, etc.

Speaking of story life, I also need to make a decision about shelf life. I’m considering following Ferrett’s lead where he called a mulligan on his pre-Clarion writing life. I still have some of those stories in circulation and while they’re good stories, I am running out of places to send them despite mostly positive feedback. Maybe harvest the ideas in future stories, because when you compare that to what I’ve written since Clarion, nine first drafts, five polished stories sent out on submission and three sold (60%), all on their first date, that tells me I should be expending my energy on the new things. I have a feeling that there’s a diminishing point of return on old stories, where they might do more harm than good in the eyes of an editor. I’m just not sure where to draw that line.

I’ve been bad about writing consistently lately (blogging seems to be a chronic problem). I’d write sporadically, finishing stories here and there, revising and evening submitting a few of them with some success.  Mostly, though, I’ve been draft stories and that’s it. I still have some sitting in my moleskines waiting to be typed up. I’ve been really, really bad about revising and submitting. I only have four stories in circulation, with another twenty or so waiting to be edited. Not to mention the two novel ideas floating in my head and various states of outline.

I could make excuses, but really, it comes down to sitting down and doing it. Butt in chair.

Well, I started neglecting twitter and the like to some degree, which gives me an easy excuse to talk about writing without actually doing. The big change I made was lifestyle — going to bed at roughly the same time every day and getting up around the same time in the morning. Now, I roll out of bed, get dressed, and go write for an hour or two.

I have two projects I’m working on this month, a new short story, Aye of the Hagfish, that I’ll be sending on to Dagan Books Fish Anthology and an as yet untitled post-partial ice age apocalyptic recovery w/mech story that I’m finally getting around to revising for Timid Pirate‘s Benevolent Apocalypse anthology, both due at month’s end. After that, who knows. I’ve got plenty of existing material to work from, but I fully intend to flood the market with new, original fiction by yours truly.

Anyone who I’ve worked with on deadline knows that I’m bad for them. I’m trying to fix that. Part of that is organizational (and damn my office is starting to look spiffy) and part of it is productivity. I could just cram the last week of the month and submit with minutes to spare, or miss the deadline and be morose for a week or two for another lost opportunity but fuck that. That’s no way to run a career.

I finished draft 0.5 (a longhand first draft, a reverse outline and a draft of what was missing) of Aye of the Hagfish. Tonight I’ll type that up and hand off that very rough draft to my lovely, patient, and wise wife for a first read and turn my attention to the mech story.

Life isn’t all or nothing but that’s how I’ve been trying to tackle fiction. It doesn’t work, at least for me, not in a way I can sustain. There’s a place for line editing but it’s not on the first edit. I’ll make a revision pass to fixing major issues and hand it off for comment. Pick up the next project and repeat, and so on.

There’s no substitution for action. If you want to write, sit and do it. There is no other alternative.

This past week, I simply used a calendar to block out my time to write or work or even eat. That’s taken me from fretting over my non-existent progress to putting my butt in the chair and editing for seven and a half hours over the past three days. Not only did I finish a revision of my Tesla’s Daughter story, but I know just how long I spent working on it and I have a real sense of accomplishment for turning around what was feeling like a serious nose dive in the confidence department.

Now, if only my beta readers have some kind, constructive words (hint, hint). I have three days to get this polished up and submitted. Nothing like cutting it close to the wire.

I’m still struggling with revisions. I got critiques back on two of my stories this week. The crits were brutally honest, the way I like them, and resonated with things I’d been trying to figure out myself. One thing I’m uncovering is that I don’t read critically enough. Having a third party point out an issue is great. I don’t always agree, but I usually see their point of view. It’s not easy but I’m trying to be honest with myself about the stories I’ve written.

The story I’ve been trying to edit? Broken. Not hopelessly so, but it’s going to require enough work to fix, and my voice has changed enough since I originally wrote it, that a rewrite is in order. Off to the salt mines it goes, until I decide it’s ready to play nice again. I’m accepting that there are practice stories. I don’t remember where I saw the term mentioned recently, but it stuck with me. These are the stories written that were useful to move from one phase to the next but are critically damaged as-is. You can either spend the time to rewrite and fix them, or stick them in the trunk and move on. The option to revisit is always there later.

Part of this process is re-evaluating my goals on a regular basis. If something doesn’t work, change it. I’m going to give myself a break from stressing over revisions this week, instead focusing on finishing the new story I’m working on and the essay that I want to write. February is going to focus more on revision. Fixing what’s broken, instead of putting a pretty coat of paint on a broken plot or weak characters.

I have a theme (thank you, upcoming anthology). I have the kernel of a plot and main character. Tonight, I write without  my safety net. I’m curious to see what this change in process produces. With luck, I’ll end the night with a coherent idea of where this is going.

I’m feeling pretty good about how things are shaping. I’m starting the year with a more or less clean slate; new domain, new blog, and new goals. That should help me keep track of things, in my special obsessive-compulsive sort of way.

I picked up a copy sometime in December. Sat down, started reading, and couldn’t put it down. When I finally relented, the next thing I did was tell my friend Christie that she had to stop everything she was doing and start reading her copy.

It might be a bold claim to say that this book changed my life, but it’s true. The book is subtitled “strategies and survival tips for the 21st-century writer” and that’s true, but it’s so much more. It changed the way I looked at my public identity. It prompted me consider exactly what my short and long-term goals were, and what my end goal for writing is. Most importantly, it provided me with some tools to accomplish what I struggle with the most.

The book covers everything from planning to social networking to public relations. For my purposes, I’ve read and reread the section on creating and managing goals several times because it most directly addresses my most chronic weakness. As a result, I’ve written several things to help manage my time and my career.

The Mission Statement, or, what the hell am I doing here?

I want to write the best stories that I can, and continually challenge myself to grow creatively. I believe fiction should be as diverse as the real world and that should be represented in my work. I want to earn the respected member of the SFF community that I love through my words and my actions. I will continue to pay it forward, to give and share what I can, for the betterment of us all.

This serves as a reminder to me of what it is I’m trying to accomplish in my life and my work. As I writer, I want to create damned good stories that make people think or laugh or cry, or just give them the escape they need to survive. As a person, I want to leave things better than I found them. That means sharing my knowledge and speaking out when I have something worth saying.

I’m also a firm believer in public accountability. As such, I plan to blog regularly about my process, success or failure. I’ve put together and will be posting, based on the advice in Booklife, one year and five year goals. Goals, by my definition, are things achievable directly by my own actions. I can’t control if an editor likes and wants to publish my work but I can control how many stories I write, edit, and submit.

Additionally, I’ve begun building a list of career achievements, like seeing my name in print in a bookstore, which I recently did, or being invited to a convention. These things mark milestones in a writers career and I think it’s interesting to keep track of.

I’ve been bad about over-committing myself and that needs to stop. I work more than full-time. I write. I read slush. I critique. Those are things I enjoy doing. Beyond that, I’m going to have to be selective about what else I do for others beyond the scope of my mission statement above. I have some outstanding projects that I committed to that will be finished. After that, I have to focus on what’s important to me.

So, if you’re a writer and you haven’t read Booklife yet, I can’t recommend it enough. It doesn’t matter if you write short or long, or if you’ve only been writing a short time. Out of all of the books aimed at writers that I’ve read it is easily the best of them and well worth the investment.