Here It Comes, Ready or Not

 

I have often been asked, over the years, for advice on how to submit short stories to publications--mostly magazines. I don't know how helpful that's been, but I've always tried to deliver honest guidance, and the only reason I feel qualified to advise at all is that I've submitted a lot of stories and I've done some of it the wrong way.

The truth is, in the old days it was much harder to submit stories to editors and much easier to make a submission mistake. I can recall forgetting to sign my name on cover letters, leaving pages out of manuscripts, not putting enough postage on envelopes, binding the pages the wrong way, using the wrong kinds of envelopes, forgetting to enclose cover letters, and forgetting to enclose SASEs (remember those?). I once put together a neat submission, packed it all into one of those 9 x 12 envelopes, and then forgot to mail it. My wife found it under some papers in the back seat a month later.

But even in our modern, electronic world, you (I should say I) can still make submission mistakes. One of the worst, of course, is an error in the story itself. Some of those are minor (misspellings, typos, punctuation errors, etc.) and some are major (plot holes, factual mistakes, unintended POV switches, etc.). All are embarrassing, and are a good reason to try harder in the future to proofread, proofread, proofread before sending a story off into the hard and competitive world.

It's something that's especially important to me because one of my so-called rules for the submission process is to not read a story again after I've sent it off to the publication. After I hit SEND to dispatch my emailed submission to an editor, I try to forget that story, and I mean completely forget it, until I receive a response. If the eventual response is a rejection, fine--I then re-read the story, make any changes that I think are needed, and submit it elsewhere. If the response is an acceptance, I usually also re-read the story. But--I'll say it again--I don't re-read the story while it's out for consideration. I erase it from my mind and start working on another one.

Now, consider this. What if ignore that advice, and decide to take another look at your story after submitting it? Hopefully you won't find any mistakes, but . . . what if you do?

If the error is really minor, I would let it go. Everybody makes mistakes now and then. Make a note of it to yourself if you want to, but do nothing more. Don't contact the editor. Go back mentally to the point when you emailed the submission and think no more about the story until you receive a response. 

But what if it's a major mistake, like one of those I mentioned earlier? What if you re-read the story while it's in transit or under consideration and find that action B cannot logically follow action A in your plot? What if the geography's wrong, or the timeline is wrong, or the hero knows things he couldn't possibly know, or the device your character used in your historical mystery hasn't been invented yet? Or maybe Janet Bradley on page 2 has changed to Janice Brady on pages 4 through 10. After you slap your forehead and spew a few words that shock both your family and your dog, what do you do?

That's happened to me. (Well, except for the dog.) In my case, it was an error in a fact that I just hadn't researched as well as I should've. It not only made my plot look stupid, it made me look stupid. I still remember thinking Did I actually write that? But I did. And I submitted it to a magazine, only a few days earlier.

What happened then was, I reluctantly send a followup email to the editor, one I thankfully knew, and I told her I'd screwed up a story I'd sent and would like to resubmit a corrected version of that manuscript. She was kind enough to allow me to do that (she probably hadn't read the botched submission yet)--but even so, I suspect my request annoyed her. And annoying editors doesn't top anyone's list of smart things to do.  

But what if I had found the mistake and hadn't sent the followup note? One of three things might've happened, and they're the same things that might've happened if I hadn't found the mistake: (1) the story could've been (deservedly) rejected; (2) the story could've been (undeservedly) accepted, after which the editor would probably have corrected the mistake or asked me to correct it; or (3) the story could've been accepted and published with the mistake intact. And believe me, that can happen as well.

Anyhow, it has become my practice to submit a story and then leave it alone until I get a response. Call me irresponsible, call me unreliable, but that's my policy. I make sure my submission is written as well as I can write it, I send it off, and I forget it. My reason is, if you re-read it and don't find any mistakes, you've wasted your time. And if you re-read it and do find a mistake, you either alert the editor or you don't. If you don't, you'll probably still worry about it for the next few weeks or months, and if you do alert the editor, you run the risk of irritating her and could be wasting your time anyway, because the acceptance/rejection outcome might be the same. Bottom line: I'm not convinced that finding an error once the bird has flown does anyone any good.

One more thing. I think my decision to not look at a story again after it's submitted has made me a more careful writer. It's forced me to look a lot harder at the story beforehand. 

So here's the question. What's your policy? Do you forget your stories after they've been submitted for consideration? Do you re-read them after submission but before you've received a response? Have you ever found a gastric-distressable error at that point? If so, what did you do about it, besides Maalox? Did you contact the editor, and if so, how'd that go? Was the story accepted or rejected anyway? Have you ever made story mistakes, small or large, that somehow got past all the guards and found their way undetected into print? (I wish I hadn't--they don't stay undetected long.) Come on, be honest. Confession's good for the soul.

Meanwhile, keep writing the best stories you can, check them carefully, and send 'em in. Some of them will surprise you, and actually make something of themselves in the world.

May the odds be ever in your favor.

Caddyshack 2? Seriously?

  

I like movies. In fact I love 'em, and have probably helped keep several local theaters in business over the years. These days, my movie watching is mostly on the small screen, but between the many DVDs I own and the many movies out there and available for streaming (for me, it's mostly Netflix, Amazon Prime, and Apple TV Plus), there aren't many I want to see that I haven't seen.

But . . . I also watch more than my share of bad movies. Oddly enough--or maybe not so oddly--a lot of those movie disappointments have been sequels. I can't think of many novel sequels I didn't like --Scarlett does come to mind, along with The Death Cure and Go Set a Watchman--but there were many, many movie sequels that fell short. Some of them short by a long way.

In my defense, why would I not look forward to moviemakers' attempts to follow up on classics like Rocky, Jaws, The Magnificent Seven, Wall Street, Saturday Night Fever, The Sting, Get Shorty, Halloween, Speed, Poltergeist, The Exorcist, The Man from Snowy River, Crocodile Dundee, Romancing the Stone, Under Siege, Escape from New York, Airplane!, City Slickers, Our Man Flint, Dirty Harry, etc.? But every single one of the sequels to those twenty movies (at least in my opinion) fell flat.

There are, though, exceptions.

Here are a dozen movie sequels that I think were as good, and in come cases better, than the originals. I ranked them from 1 to 12 because that makes it sound like I know what I'm doing, with #1 being the best. 

NOTE: I'm referring here to first sequels, not Rocky 4 or Die Hard 5, etc. Almost all of those after-the-second-sequels are terrible. The only more distant sequels that come to mind that weren't bad were Back to the Future III; Goldfinger; Return of the Jedi; The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly; the third Indiana Jones (The Last Crusade); the third Lord of the Rings (The Return of the King); and the fourth Mad Max (Fury Road). I liked all of those.

Anyhow, here's my list of (what I think are) watchable sequels:

12. A Shot in the Dark (1964) -- Not as famous as the original, but it's a better movie. And the best of the Pink Panther series. Still funny, sixty years later.

11. Spider-Man 2 (2004) -- At least as well done as the original, and the love-story part of the movie might be even better. Great villain, too--hard to believe he's the same guy who threw the idol (not the whip) to Indiana Jones, in Raiders.

10. The Road Warrior (1981) -- I think everything about The Road Warrior was better than Mad Max--and I liked Mad Max. The last twenty minutes of the sequel is crazy but fun, and nonstop action.

9. Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982) -- A vast improvement over the first movie. Good plot, good suspense, good villain (Ricardo Montalban with a blond shag hairdo--if that doesn't creep you out, nothing will.)

8. Superman II (1980) -- Maybe not better than the original, but every bit as good. It was also the last quality movie in this series--from there on, Supe ran downhill. 

7. The Empire Strikes Back (1980) -- At least as well done, possibly better, than the first Star Wars. Better acting, cool plot lines, better special effects.

6. From Russia with Love (1963) -- This was the fifth Bond book but the second movie, and--like the first one--it stuck closely to the novel, which helped. As in the Star Wars and Superman franchises, the first few installments were the best. 

5. Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991) -- Again, an improvement on an already good original. One of James Cameron's best movies, and that's saying a lot.

4. For a Few Dollars More (1965) -- As much as I liked the first of Eastwood's spaghetti Westerns (A Fistful of Dollars), this one's better. The music, the plot, everything, plus Lee Van Cleef. Even non-Western fans have told me they love this movie.

3. The Silence of the Lambs (1991) -- The original, believe it or not, didn't feature Anthony Hopkins as Dr. Lecter. It was Manhunter, which was okay but not as good as its sequel. Lambs won, deservedly, the top four Oscars that year (Best Picture, Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Director), plus three more.

2. Godfather II (1974) -- It's as good as the original, which was wonderful. I think this was the first movie sequel to win Best Picture.

1. Aliens (1986) -- Not only does this one top my list, it was the best of the Alien franchise and one of the best movies I've ever seen. Watch it sometime, if you haven't already.

Possible runners-up: The Gods Must Be Crazy II, Top Gun: Maverick; Catching Fire. Toy Story 2.

Once again, this is my opinion and mine only--and yes, Liz Zelvin, I realize most of these are "guy" movies. My apologies--although you must admit both Silence of the Lambs and Aliens had great female protagonists. Don't forget, I also loved Somewhere in Time, which--though it wasn't a sequel--was a romantic fantasy and had no shootouts at all. (There's hope for me yet.)

As for recent sequels, I watched Twisters the other night, and I understand the sequel to Gladiator was released a couple of weeks ago. I confess I was disappointed in Twisters, and I also don't have the highest of hopes for Gladiator 2. What I do hope is that no one tries to make a sequel to Galaxy Quest, The Shawshank Redemption, The Big Country, Body Heat, Reservoir Dogs, The Rocketeer, Once Upon a Time in the West, L.A. Confidential, Medicine Man, Casablanca, Forrest Gump, No Country for Old Men, Raising Arizona, Signs, The Big Lebowski, Witness, Shane, Dances with Wolves, 12 Angry Men, and so on. If they do, there'll be at least 1 angry man. Just leave those originals alone.

Now . . . What do you think, about all this? Have you seen any truly terrible, barf-baggable sequels? Any that you had high hopes for, beforehand? Any good ones? Which ones did I leave out? Do you disagree with some (or most) that I picked? How about novel sequels? Let me know, in the comments below. Inquiring minds want to inquire . . .

Next time, back to mystery fiction. I promise.

Blink Fiction

 

Some time ago, a non-writer friend asked me about the term flash fiction. Specifically, how long or short does it have to be? I gave her what I suppose is the most generally-accepted answer: 1000 words or less. Some say 1500, some say 500--but I know 1000 is the upper limit for the flash category of the Derringer Awards, given annually by the Short Mystery Fiction Society.

I also told her that stories of that length aren't only common--they're popular. Their brevity is the very reason many readers like them. Marketingwise, there are some publications, like Woman's World, that use only flash stories, and most magazines that publish "regular" short fiction will also consider them. I can remember when submission guidelines for even the big publications usually said "also publishes short shorts," which is what flash fiction was once called.

But what if stories are very, very short? One of my published stories--"Tourist Trap," which was probably more fun to write than any other I can remember--was 400 words. If you want to read that story (it takes about a minute and a half), it's posted here. And a place called Punk Noir published a story of mine called "Retirement Plan" a few months ago that was exactly 200 words, here. What, you might ask, are those called? Short-short-short stories? Blink stories?

If you really want blink fiction, consider the following. (I think I've written about this before, either here or at Criminal Brief.) Here's the background:

I once saw a submission call for what I thought was a cool fiction contest. They wanted 26-word stories, and every word in the story had to start with a different letter of the alphabet, in order. There was only one gimme: The letter X, thankfully, could be considered Ex. I should mention, here, that I usually hate contests, and I never enter them--but this one had no entry fee and was super intriguing, so why not? By way of practice, I wrote seven different alphabetized 26-worders, which I fully realize were not examples of fine literature. If you need proof of that, here are four of those seven attempts:

1. Alameda Books Corporation. Dear Editor: Findings gathered here include John Kennedy's lost manuscript. No other publishers quickly responded, so this unsubmitted volume will Xcite you. Zimmerman. 

2. All Balkan country doctors exhibit friendliness, generosity, helpful inclinations, jovial kindness, likability, modest nature. Oddly, physicians quite rarely seem to understand video work. Xample: Yuri Zhivago. 

3. A British chemist detected evidence featuring green horses, indigo jackasses, khaki-like mules, nags occasionally painted quirky red shades. Therefore, unbiased veterinarians will Xamine yellow Zebras.

4. A baboon cage, discovered empty. Facility gurus hired investigator JoNell Kendrix. "Lost monkeys," Nell observed. "Possible quick reasons: sabotage, theft, utter villainy. Who, Xactly? You, zookeeper!" 

You might've decided by now a baboon cage is where I belong--but I did warn you. Equally silly is the story I finally decided to submit to the contest--I titled it "Mission Ambushable." But--picture Professor Brown screaming "Great Scott!"--it actually won. The prize was a $30 Amazon gift card, which I used about thirty seconds after they gave it to me. For what it's worth, here's that story:

Assassin Bob Carter deftly eased forward, gun hidden in jacket, keeping low, making not one peep. Quietly Robert said, to unaware victim: "Welcome. Expected you." ZAP.

Okay, enough of that. I've given you examples of some very short stories, but . . . What? You want something even shorter? How about six words?

A few years ago I found out about a competition for six-word stories inspired by this famous little ditty: For sale: baby shoes, never worn. That was supposedly written by Hemingway, but Wikipedia says it first appeared in 1906, when Papa Ernest was seven years old, so don't believe everything you're told on the Internet. Nobody knows who came up with it. 

Long story short, I once again broke my no-contests rule. The six-worder I submitted was titled "Radio Silence":

Entering Bermuda Triangle. No problems whatsoev-- 

Alas, that masterpiece won nothing. I never even got a response from the contest people. I choose to believe that either (1) my submission fell behind the refrigerator or (2) they published my story someplace far away, to wide acclaim.

Here are a few other six-word stories, from Quirk Books. All of them are better than mine:

Ever early, he died too soon.

For sale: writer's notebook. Never opened.

Revolutions existed long before the wheel.

Clown nose broken. It's not funny.

And, to sum up this discussion of six-word stories, consider this one, which I did write:

Get real. These aren't really stories.

So. Here are my questions for you. What do you think of flash, and even subflash, fiction? Have you ever tried writing it? Any successes? (I recall my buddy Josh Pachter winning a Derringer for a flash story a couple of years ago.) Any interesting rejections? Do you think writing them is hard? Fun? A waste of time? Do you like to read very short stories? What do you think the upper flash limit, in word count, should be? Have you ever written a flash story and then turned it into something longer?

It occurs to me that there's been nothing flash about the length of this post--so I'll fix that right now.

See you next Saturday. 

  

Going Golden, Committing Capers, and Getting Cozy

We've been talking quite a bit at this blog about writing stories for anthologies--mostly mystery/crime anthologies. It's easy to see why: there have been a lot of them out there, recently.

I think writing for mystery anthologies is fun, for several reasons: (1) most of them have a challenging theme (besides just crime), (2) they often contain stories by other familiar names, so it's sort of a party, and (3) there do indeed seem to be more markets for them, at the moment, than for magazines. Besides, as a writer friend once said to me, anthologies are real books, that you can put up on your shelf and look at from time to time. I still love the magazines, and send stories to them regularly--but not as often as I once did.

As luck would have it, several crime anthologies containing my stories have been published in the past couple of weeks, and two of those--Shamus and Anthony Commit Capers and Agatha and Derringer Get Cozy--were edited by the same dynamic duo: Andrew McAleer and Gay Toltl Kinman. In fact, the McAleer/Kinman team has, to my knowledge at least, edited three "awards-based" anthologies, and I've been fortunate enough to have stories in all of them. Here's some info about all three of those books:

Edgar and Shamus Go Golden: Twelve Tales of Murder, Mystery, and Master Detection from the Golden Age of Mystery and Beyond (Down & Out Books), edited by Andrew McAleer and Gay Toltl Kinman and published two years ago, on December 5, 2022. 

This was a book of original stories by writers who had won, in the past, either an Edgar Award (presented by Mystery Writers of America) or a Shamus Award (Private Eye Writers of America). Contributors were me, Doug Allyn, Lori Armstrong, O'Neil De Noux, Brendan DuBois, Martin Edwards, Carolina Garcia-Aguilera, Kristen Lepionka, Lia Matera, John McAleer, P. J. Parrish, and Art Taylor.

My story was called "Old Money," and featured a New Orleans private eye named Luke Walker. (This was Luke's first appearance, but I later put him to work in two more stories.) This one is set in 1940s Natchez, Mississippi, where Walker goes to investigate the mysterious death of a reclusive millionaire and the possibility that Walker's young client from New Orleans might be the only heir to the old man's fortune. It's actually a couple of different mysteries in one story, which is something I like to do now and then if possible, and it was especially fun to write because (1) Natchez has such an interesting history and (2) I'm familiar with most of its streets, landmarks, etc.

Shamus and Anthony Commit Capers: Ten Tales of Criminals, Crooks, and Culprits (Level Best Books), again edited by Andrew McAleer and Gay Kinman, published November 5, 2024. 

I haven't yet held this book in my hands, but I think its cover is one of the best I've seen in a long time. This is another anthology of original stories by past award winners, this time of the Shamus Award and/or the Anthony Award. Contributors: me, Lori Armstrong, Libby Cudmore, Carolina Garcia-Aguilera, Marcia Muller, Bill Pronzini, Verena Rose, John Shepphird, Shawn Reilly Simmons, and Marcia Talley.

My story, "Skeeter Done Shot Billy Bob," doesn't involve a detective, just a large contingent of the required criminals, crooks, and culprits. It also involves a heist, and not a usual one at that. A group of wannabe gangsters is trying to steal back a bag of diamonds that was taken from them, which they'd stolen earlier in order to repay a debt to yet another--and far more deadly--gang. And of course time is running out and very little of what they try goes as planned. (Billy Bob Kelso, who has done got shot, would agree.)

Of the three stories, this was probably the most fun to write, and a bit different from most of my stories because in this case the idea for its title came before the idea for the story. Matter of fact, the title came verbatim from a dead-serious but weirdly funny statement I heard in a TV news interview, from a witness to a local shooting--although I changed the names to protect the guilty. It's strange, sometimes, the way these things happen.

Agatha and Derringer Get Cozy: Thirteen Tales of Murder, Mystery, and Master Detection (Down & Out Books), the third anthology edited by Andy and Gay, published November 11, 2024.

I also love the cover of this one, and I understand Shawn Reilly Simmons designed it and the one for the Shamus/Anthony anthology. (Great job, Shawn!) Once again this is a book of original stories, not reprints, by past winners of--this time--either the Agatha or the Derringer. True to its title, these stories are (or at least mine is) more lighthearted than gritty, and feature crimes that take place mostly off-screen. Contributors, besides me: Barb Goffman, Tara Laskowski, B. V. Lawson, Robert Lopresti, Kris Neri, Alan Orloff, Josh Pachter, Stephen D. Rogers, Shawn Reilly Simmons, Marcia Talley, Art Taylor, and Stacy Woodson.

In my story, "Sunlight and Shadows," I used two characters that have now appeared more than eighty times in other publications: a retired teacher (and amateur sleuth) named Frances Valentine and her daughter Lucy, who is also the sheriff of their small Southern town. In this story, Fran travels to San Francisco to visit her cousin, a journalist who happens to be covering a local murder investigation--and while Fran's there, Lucy is wrestling with a church-office robbery back home. Through several phone calls, Fran helps her sheriff daughter deal with her case while also butting in on the California investigation. Like "Old Money," this is sort of two mysteries in the same story, one dealing with big-city homicide and one with small-town theft, and of course my two heroes (heroines?) manage to solve both.

In closing, I hope you'll check out all three anthologies. Andy and Gay did an outstanding job. (I like reprint anthologies, but there's something extra special about anthos that feature all original stories, written specifically for those projects.) Again, the last two of these books just came out and are available now at Amazon, the publishers' sites, etc.

And that's that. See you on the 30th. 

Have a great Thanksgiving!

For You and Me and I

  

I should probably apologize ahead of time, because this post is a complaint, and I learned long ago that nobody likes complaints. My mom's usual reply to grumbles like "Are we having peas again?" was "There are children starving in India," and when I was stupid enough to say something like "I'm bored," Dad always replied, "Oh, I can find you something to do." Having now grown old, I still complain, but my wife has become so used to it she pays no attention.

My complaint here, though, isn't about aches or pains or the weather. This one involves grammar, and language. Here it is: 

I'm tired of people saying "for you and I" or "of you and I" or "to you and I" or "from you and I," etc. To phrase it as my high-school English teacher would've, you shouldn't use a subject pronoun when it's an object, and specifically a subject pronoun after a preposition. And it happens a lot.

I think I know why. Throughout childhood, we're taught not to say "Susie and me met at the park" or "Bob and me are going fishing" or "Dad and me like movies." It's supposed to be Susie and I, Bob and I, Dad and I. So when we have the need to say or write things like "They were shouting at Jane and me," we're tempted to substitute I for me, and say "They were shouting at Jane and I." Which is wrong.

What really bothers me is when this grammatical crime is committed by people who should know better. If the farmer being interviewed on TV after his barn's blown away says "And a dern tree almost landed on Stella and I," I don't mind that a bit. Not only has the man had a hard day, he's just a regular guy. But if the reporter who's interviewing him makes that kind of mistake, that's another matter. And believe me, I've heard this kind of screwup by politicians, news anchors, teachers, talk-show hosts, pastors, and salesmen, all of whom supposedly received an education and are now paid to get up in front of others and speak. That's their job.

NOTE: As most of you already know, the handy test for which pronoun is correct ("I'm rooting for you and me" or "I'm rooting for you and I") is to change the sentence a bit and say "I'm rooting for you and for ____." The answer's obviously for me, not for I, and if you say it aloud you immediately see that.

It especially irks me to see this mistake--a subject pronoun used instead of an object pronoun--in writing. The most common crime scenes, I think, are Facebook posts and Amazon product reviews. As a fiction writer, I don't mind (mis)using it in dialog because that's my character talking, but I wouldn't want to goof up that way in the rest of my story. Thankfully, we don't see it often in published works.

But it has happened. I can remember the me/I error occurring in both a song and a play. The song was "Hungry Eyes," by Eric Carmen, who at one point feels "the magic between you and I." (I like the song, but I guess me didn't fill the bill, in terms of rhyming.) And the play was The Merchant of Venice, in which one of the characters says something like "All debts are cleared between you and I." Even when the author is Shakespeare his ownself, between is still a preposition and the sentence is still wrong.

I saw a "don't" list long ago, when I first started writing for publication, of the seven worst grammatical mistakes. I can't recall all of them, but it included things like its/it's, lay/lie, less/fewer, etc. And high on the list was for you and I. This was almost thirty years ago, and I suspect that mistake would still be a top contender.

Question: Is this particular misuse irritating to anyone else? Do you tend to shrug it off, instead? As a writer, I make plenty of grammatical errors myself, so I'm not sure why this one bothers me so. (I wasn't even an English major--I graduated in electrical engineering.) But it does.

In closing, and in recognition of the fact that we should all complain less and be more tolerant of things we don't like, here's a piece of particularly elegant poetry:

If you must say "Between you and I,"

I won't stop you--I won't even try.

So just say it; feel free,

But don't say it to me

Or I'll shoot you and leave you to die.

Okay, I'm kidding--I wouldn't do that. But, like the hungry-eyed songwriter, I needed something that rhymed.

See you in two weeks.

Adventures in Strandland

Three things prompted me to write this column today. One was a kind email last week from a writer in the Balkans saying he had read one of my SleuthSayers posts about mystery markets and asking if I had any updated advice about those, the second was a conversation I had the other day with old friend Rob Lopresti about mystery publications, and the third was the recent announcement that the wonderful Mystery Magazine was calling it quits.

All this got me to thinking about how relatively few mystery markets are still out there these days, and which of those have been the most helpful to me, over the years. Now that Mystery Magazine is no more, those are (again, in my case) AHMM, EQMM, Strand Magazine, Black Cat Mystery Magazine, Black Cat Weekly, Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine, and (if you consider them a mystery market) Woman's World. For that matter, Black Cat Weekly isn't solely a mystery magazine either, but that's what almost all my BCW stories have been.

Which brings us, in a roundabout way, to today's post. A few weeks ago, my story "Welcome to Armadillo" was published in the new issue of Strand Magazine. It's a private eye story, but a bit different, in several ways. For one thing, my PI spends far more time in this story running from killers than he does in detecting anything, although the skills of his job do help him to survive the tale. Another thing is, one of the people intent on killing him is his own wife. (Have you noticed that very few fictional private detectives are happily married?) Also, though I guess it doesn't matter, this particular guy is new, and not one of my series PIs. 

Much of the fun I had in writing this story came from the four or five major plot reversals that happen in the course of the story and from a number of characters I grew to like so much I hated to leave them when I wrote END. The story features betrayals, shootings, stabbings, marital infidelity, political corruption, a bomb threat, a cross-country bus ride, killers for hire, rattlesnakes, drug trafficking, a birthday celebration, a jailbird bent on revenge, a guy abandoned in the middle of the desert, and a roadside cafe. (For some reason, several of my recent stories have featured diners and other restaurants; never let it be said that I allow my hardworking characters to go hungry.) 

This story also marked sort of a "first" for me: This was my sixth story in a row to be published by the Strand. I'm not sure I've ever had stories in six consecutive issues of a magazine before, and I would like to think this is the beginning of a trend. With most of the magazines I submit stories to, I'm more accustomed to having half a dozen issues published in a row without one of my stories in them. So I'm enjoying that while I can.

My other most recent publication was a short story that had appeared in Best Mystery Stories of the Year 2024 and then showed up a week or two ago in that anthology's UK edition Best Crime Stories of the Year. That story, "Last Day at the Jackrabbit," also has ties to Strand Magazine--it first appeared in their Spring 2023 issue.

Back on the subject of current mystery markets, I would encourage you to try submitting to them all, including some that I didn't list. I often find that a story rejected at one market can later be accepted at one of the others. I'll close with two tips: (1) don't spend too much time trying to make sense of the selection process--that way lies madness--and (2) don't worry if your story isn't a traditional whodunit mystery. Very few of mine are. If your story contains a crime, that's all you need, for these markets. 

Questions: If you're a short-story writer, which mystery magazines do you submit to most often? Which ones do you tend to try first, second, third, etc.? Which magazines have proven to be the best match for the kind of stories you write? Do you--as I do--find yourself writing less for magazines nowadays, and more for anthologies? I welcome you to share your experiences and thoughts on all this, in the comments.

Meanwhile, keep writing!

The Rules of Dialog (Good and Bad)

  

I love writing--and reading--short stories. Almost everything about writing them is fun for me, though the things I most enjoy are the plotting and the dialog. For that reason, I'm often surprised to hear others (novelists, too) say they find those two things to be the hardest.

Easy or hard, plotting's a subject for another time. Today I'd like to rant awhile about what the characters say to each other, and how we convey it to the reader.

As for the title of this post, I think most advice about writing dialog is accurate and helpful--but not all of it.

Consider the following twelve points:

1. Some writing instructors urge their students to avoid the use of dialog attributes ("tags" like Joe said, Jane asked, etc.) unless absolutely necessary to identify a speaker. I agree to some extent, because ideally we should write dialog such that the dialog itself makes it clear who's speaking. But you can't take that to extremes. I've read a lot of student manuscripts, and several published stories, in which the writers were obviously going out of their way to treat dialog tags as if they were Kryptonite, to the detriment of the story. That total avoidance of tags, to me, was as distracting as using too many.

Even though I agree that dialog tags are mainly to identify the speaker, they can also be used for other purposes. 

- A he said/she said can serve as a way to change the subject in mid-speech. Example: "I'll sure be glad when this week is over," she said. "How's your dad doing?" 

- It can be used to isolate and put extra emphasis on a final sentence. Example: "I'll just tell you one thing," she said. "Don't trust him too much."

- It can create a needed break or pause, just to help the common-sense rhythm of a sentence or paragraph. "I coulda had class," he said. "I coulda been a contender."

2. I've heard writers say they dislike using the word said, to the degree that they usually substitute a synonym. I think that's wrong. I used to tell my writing students to remember that dialog tags such as he said and he asked (and maybe she replied) are so common that they've almost become transparent; the reader's eye goes right over them, while expressions like he exclaimed, she inquired, he interjected, etc., can interrupt the flow and distract the reader for a moment from the story, which is something no writer wants to do. (This is why Elmore Leonard famously advised writers to "never use a synonym for said," although I don't quite agree on "never.") Adding to the problem, tags like she explained, he insisted, she inquired, and he retorted are repetitive--the dialog itself should tell the reader whether someone is explaining or insisting or inquiring or retorting. 

Read, or re-read, Lonesome Dove sometime. Larry McMurtry used said constantly, regardless of whether an identifier was needed. If I weren't a writer, I would never even have noticed it. Not only was it not distracting, the book won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.

3. In a nutshell, (1) don't feel you have to use a dialog tag if it's clear who's speaking, (2) don't overuse possibly-distracting synonyms for said, (3) don't worry about repeating said or asked too many times, and (4) do use a dialog attribute or an embedded name if there is any question at all about who is speaking. Readers hate to have to count lines backward to identify who's saying what. (And yes, I know I shouldn't complain about repetition--there was plenty of it in this little summary.)

4. Here's something that's rarely mentioned but can be helpful: It's usually better, especially in informal writing, to place the name or pronoun first (Mary said instead of said Mary). The only times I find myself putting the name last is when I need to add some kind of phrase afterward, in the same sentence. Example: "I'm leaving," said Mary, putting on her hat and coat. 

5. I've seen beginning writers, in their efforts to avoid dialog tags, overuse characters' names in back-and-forth dialog between two people. "Hi, Tom, what's up?" "Not much, Jimmy. Taking a trip tomorrow." "Where to, Tom?" "Well, Jimmy, we're headed for the mountains this time." That's an exaggeration, but not by much--and people obviously don't talk this way. Same thing goes for the use of contractions. Nobody speaks like this: "I think I will go see Bill. I am sure he is fine, but since his wife is away, I will go check." Instead they use contractions like I'll and I'm and he's and wife's. If you read your dialog aloud afterward, you'll be able to spot problems like this right away.

6. To again paraphrase Mr. Leonard, try to avoid the use of "ly" adverbs. If the dialog's written well, it probably won't need adverbs after the tags (he said softly, she asked sadly, he replied angrily) to prop it up. And silly repetition can come into play here as well, if you write something like he whispered softly, she moaned sadly, he growled angrily.

7. Since I've already mentioned formal vs. informal, the use of semicolons in dialog can make the writing appear stiff and formal even if that's not your intention. I use far fewer semicolons than I once did, in all kinds of writing, and I never use them in dialog. Dashes, by the way, can be good substitutes for semicolons.

8. Something I do a lot in dialog is indicate interrupted speech. If it's an abrupt interruption and not a "trailing off," the best way to do this is to end the sentence with a dash (not a set of ellipses). Example: 

"What do you think you're--"

"You know very well what I'm doing."

It's especially effective because interruption happens so often when we speak to each other in real life.

9. Feel free to fragment sentences whenever necessary, in dialog. One trick I think I've mentioned before at this blog is to delete certain words, especially at the beginning of some sentences, to make the dialog sound more like the way we actually speak. Here's an example:

Original sentence: "Do you want to go see a movie?"

Better: "You want to go see a movie?"

Even better: "Want to go see a movie?"

10. Be careful about using dialect. The key, I think, is to ask yourself if it's really necessary. And if you do try to write dialect, remember that many editors hate intentionally misspelled words (sho nuff, etc.)--I've found those sometimes work if you don't do it too often. A better idea is to occasionally use slang or regional or ethnic expressions or change real sentences around a bit: (Where you think you headed? or You got mush in your ears? or Daisy says Jimbo has done shot Charlie or You best get over here, and quick.)

11. An ironclad dialog rule that often gets overlooked: Do not include closing quotation marks at the end of a paragraph in a speech that resumes in the next paragraph if the same person is speaking. A correct example: 

John said, into the microphone, "Thank you so much, Councilman Smith, for that fine presentation. We all appreciate your taking the time to visit us today.

"Our final guest is Dr. Susan Jones from the Carter Foundation. Please join me in welcoming her."

I still see this misused, probably by accident, in many published works, and I always find myself wondering if it was a typo or if the author and/or editor just didn't know better.

12. Try, when you can, to use what Sol Stein called "oblique" dialog. In other words, introduce something unexpected--have people reply in a way that doesn't answer a question or brings up new questions or changes direction in some way. Examples:

"Hey. How you doin'?"

"Wow--I sure didn't expect to see you here."

"What have you been up to?"

"Oh. You haven't heard?"

"Where you going today?"

"Believe me, you don't want to know."

"Looks like it's beginning to rain."

"What do you suggest?"

12. Last but not least, try not to construct paragraphs of dialog that look too much alike. Example:

"We're ready to go," John said. "You coming?'

"Hang on," Judy called. "I'm in the bathroom."

"Well, hurry up," Bob said. "We're already late."

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she said. "Good grief."

That kind of writing looks and sounds amateurish. You need some tags here to ID the speakers, yes, but maybe some of those tags could be deleted or moved to the end of the paragraph instead of being in the middle--or maybe some beats of action could be plugged in. Example:

John picked up his car keys. "We're ready to go. You coming?"

"Hang on, I'm in the bathroom," Judy called.

"Well, hurry up," Bob said. "We're already late."

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Good grief."

So, what are your thoughts on all this? Do you like writing dialog, or do you find it difficult? Do you ever write plays or screenplays, which are almost nothing but dialog? What are your own personal "do's and don'ts"? Do you ever use dialog tags just to help regulate the sound or rhythm of a sentence? Do you ever read your dialog aloud to see if it "sounds" right? What are some of your own hints and tips?

There is of course much more that could be said about dialog and its rules, but I know (or I hope I know) when I've rambled long enough. So pick up your car keys, unless you're in the bathroom, and come on--we're already late. Go do some writing.

"What kind of writing?" she asked.

"Dialog," he said.

R.I.P., Nelson DeMille

  

Three days ago, I sat down to start a column about writing dialog--rules, myths, hints, tips--that I intended to post here at SleuthSayers today (I'm up every first, third, and fifth Saturday). Instead, I immediately saw a post by friend Don Longmuir on Facebook about the September 17 passing of crime/suspense author Nelson Demille.

All of a sudden I had no interest at all in writing a blog post about dialog. I couldn't seem to think about anything else except the unexpected loss of one of my favorite authors. I mean, much of what I learned and know about dialog--and other elements of fiction as well--I learned from DeMille's work. I devoured his books.

By way of background, Nelson DeMille was a NYT bestseller and Vietnam veteran who lived most of his life on Long Island. His novels were full of dry humor and sarcasm, and often avoided so-called "Hollywood endings"--they often finished in a satisfying but unexpected way, with the characters' futures unresolved. As far as I know, only one of his novels has been adapted for film: The General's Daughter (1990), starring John Travolta, Madeleine Stowe, and James Cromwell--though I suspect almost all of them have been optioned. Now that he's gone, I especially hope that more movies will follow.

I own all his major novels, in hardcover because I bought them as soon as they were released, beginning with By the Rivers of Babylon in 1978. (I was a Book-of-the-Month Club member back then, and I think it was a main selection, sent to me automatically.) I loved it, and was an avid fan from that point on. Looking at one of the shelves behind where I'm sitting right now, I have twenty-three of his novels, two of them co-written with his son Alex. Every one of them is special. DeMille is one of those few writers whose books I will pick up and re-read every few years. 

One of the things that 's always surprised me a bit is that so many of my writer friends, and readers also, are unfamiliar with his fiction. Those who do know of him seem to be most familiar with one particular series he wrote, beginning with Plum Island in 1997, starring retired NYPD detective John Corey. I believe there are eight Corey novels, but I can tell you, I thought all DeMille's books, series or standalone, were good--well-written, entertaining, and sometimes educational. One of the things I most loved about them is the way he inserted humor into otherwise serious fiction, sometimes on almost every page. It makes reading--and re-reading--his novels even more fun. 

For what it's worth, my favorite DeMilles are The Charm School (1988), Plum Island (1997), Up Country, (2002), Wild Fire (2006), and The Cuban Affair (2017). Only two of those are installments in the John Corey series, but again, I liked 'em all.

I never knew Mr. DeMille or met him, except via one Zoom call a couple of years ago. But some of those who did know him well--Otto Penzler, Andrew Gulli, and others--have told me he was as good and as interesting a person as he was a writer. I know for sure that he's one of several authors who had a great influence on me and my storytelling. 

(Something only just occurred to me: The feeling I had when I learned of DeMille's death the other day was like the way I felt the week before, when I heard James Earl Jones had died. I never knew either of them, but somehow it seemed as if I did. Probably because I so admired and respected them, and spent so much time reading and watching them over the years.)

 

In closing, if you've not read the novels of Nelson DeMille I hope you will, and if you've already read some of his work, I'd love to hear what you think, in the comments section below. Personally, I will miss him greatly, and will miss looking forward to his next release.

As for my column on dialog, I'm not letting you off that easy. It'll be my next post.

See you in two weeks!

The Second (or Third?) Time Around

 

Last Saturday I posted a column here at SleuthSayers about a story of mine that was reprinted several times, in different magazines, books, etc., after its first publication. As a result, during this past week, I received several emails from fellow writers asking me to do a followup post just about reprints. How often do they happen, how much can you earn from them, how and where do you market them, etc.

This request came at a good time, because I had no idea what I was going to write about today. Anyhow, here's my response.

First, there are two kinds of reprint opportunities. One's the four-leaf-clover, blind-luck kind that comes out of the blue, thanks to no action or initiative of your own. These are the best kind of reprints because they're usually more prestigious, result in higher payment, and require no effort on your part. A good example is when/if your story happens to be selected for an annual "best-of" anthology, like The Best Mystery Stories of the Year. Those are seen by a lot of readers, and--in my experience--pay around $500. Your story might also be chosen for reprint by a foreign or specialized publication, one you might not even know about until you've been contacted by that editor or publisher. The pay for those projects is often decent as well. All you have to do is sign a contract allowing them a one-time use of your story and send them a copy of it--and sometimes you don't even have to send a copy, if they already have the issue of the publication (or the book) in which your story originally appeared.

The other kind of reprint opportunity is the one that you find in the wild, on your own. You gather what information you can about the publications that might be receptive to previously published stories, then you study their submission guidelines and submit your story to them along with a cover letter, just as you would when marketing an original story. Then you cross your fingers and wait for a response. If your story's accepted, the payment for this kind of reprint varies all over the place, as you might imagine. But I have occasionally made more money from those than from the original piece. And you can do this over and over, so long as you never relinquish "all rights" to your story. (By the way, here's something that took me a while to learn: you cannot surrender all rights accidentally; it must be done via a contract. So it's not something you have to worry about.)

What are the markets for reprints? They're the same three as for original stories: magazines, anthologies, and collections.

Magazines that feature reprints are few and far between, these days. One is Thema, the New Orleans literary journal that's been around a long time. I've sold them only original mystery stories, but their guidelines say they'll also consider reprints. Another is Crimeucopia, a UK-based anthology-like magazine. All seven of my stories that have appeared there had been previously published, and editor John Connor is kind and professional and easy to work with. Shotgun Honey also accepts reprints, or at least they did four years ago, when I sold them a previously published flash mystery story. The nonpaying but longtime markets Kings River Life Magazine and Mysterical-E also consider reprints.

Anthologies are usually a better bet than magazines for reprints, and they usually say in their guidelines whether reprints are allowed. Anthology editors' opinions vary: some want only original stories, stories no one's ever seen before, but others are happily open to reprints because (they say) those stories are proven quantities that have already been vetted and accepted for publication elsewhere. Be aware that anthologies, like magazines, usually pay less for reprints than for original stories, which is understandable.

The last of the three, a collection of a writer's own work, is a logical place for reprints. The publisher of my short-story collections actually preferred reprints, for the same reasons I mentioned in the previous paragraph. Do make sure, though, that the collection contract states that you will still own the rights to the individual stories. 

NOTE: Another recent reprint market, although it's neither a magazine nor an anthology, is Storia, also known as Storiaverse. Most of what I've sold them are original stories, but they've also published one of my reprints. I'mvnot sure what their payment for reprints is now, or how long it is before they return rights to you for the story, but at one point it was $750 per reprint, and rights would revert to you after ten years.

Here are a few more points/hints/tips about the marketing of reprints, also known as Giving Your Stories a Reborn Identity. 

1. When you see a group of markets presented as they are in places like Publishers and Other Forms of Insanity, try searching those market listings by typing REPRINTS in the "Find" box at the time of the page. This should quickly show you which of those listings will consider reprint submissions. I used to do that often at the Ralan's Webstravaganza website, but alas, they gave up the ghost several years ago.

2. It's usually easier to sell reprints of older stories than those published more recently. Some guidelines even state that they'll only consider stories published more than a certain number of years ago.

3. Try selling your original stories to print publications first. When you later re-market those stories as reprints, they're often easier to sell than stories that originally appeared in online publications.

4. When selling a reprint that has already appeared in more than one place, put in your cover letter that "this story was first published in ABC Magazine." That way you can be truthful without having to say "this story was previously published in ABC Magazine, X Magazine, and Y Magazine." Shouldn't make a difference, but it could.

5. Sometimes a story needs to be tailored a bit before trying to sell it as a reprint. When that happens, it is not enough to just change the title and the setting and the characters' names and some things about the plot and then call it an original story. It's still a reprint. What I do in that case is say in my cover letter something like "a modified version of this story first appeared in XYZ Magazine."

6. Specifically, what I usually say in a cover letter for a reprint is, "This story was originally published in the July 20, 1997 Issue of Dead & Gone Magazine. Since they acquired first rights only, I hope you'll want to use it in a future issue of Here & Now Magazine." Be ready to send a copy of the original contract to the editor if requested, but I have so far never been asked to do that.

So that's it. What are your thoughts, and history, on this subject? If you're a writer of short stores, do you actively seek out reprint opportunities? Have you had any good, or bad, experiences there? What have been some of your best reprint sales, and reprint markets?

In closing, here's something I've mentioned before at this blog--and it's still true. Don't let those stories that you've worked hard on sit idle after publication. When the exclusivity period in your contract runs out--they're rarely longer than six months--get the stories you're proud of back out there and into circulation again. Why not?

Remember, short fiction is 100% recyclable.

The Same Old Story

  

A fact of life, in this business: a short story will sometimes take on a life of its own, after it's first published. That doesn't always happen (I wish it did), and I've never been able to predict if or when it will, but sometimes you get lucky.

 

Here's an example. A little over ten years ago, I saw a piece on the TV news about a bank that no one thought could be robbed. I've forgotten what bank it was and where it was located, but I remember the report featured a bunch of security experts giving their reasons why that particular financial institution would probably always be safe from criminal behavior. And as far as I know, it was, and still is--but their long-range outcome didn't much matter to me. I mean, I continue to wish them well, but I already had what I wanted: I had an idea for a crime story.

As I have mentioned before at this blog, I always start the writing process by thinking about the plot, not the characters or the setting or the theme, and sometime over the next several days I worked out what I thought would be a cool little story with a bunch of reversals and surprises, involving a regular guy with a smart wife (I can relate directly to that) and what might happen if she mapped out a risky but interesting blueprint for a heist.

Flash forward several days. Having brainstormed the plotline until my head hurt, I came up with a title ("Molly's Plan"), sat down, and wrote the story--the writing itself usually goes pretty fast once I've figured out the structure and flow, etc.--and submitted it to Strand Magazine, where I'd had some modest success with stories that have twisty plots. Thankfully, after a wait of several weeks, editor Andrew Gulli accepted the story, and it was published in the Strand's next issue (June-September 2014). I was happy, the editor seemed happy, both of us hoped the readers who read it were happy, and, as folks around here like to say, life went ahead on.  

Then, around the end of that year, I received an email informing me that "Molly's Plan" had been chosen for the upcoming (2015) edition of Best American Mystery Stories. This was my first time for that honor, which had been sort of a bucket-list dream for me, and at the time I didn't realize just how much exposure and feedback and recognition those selected stores later receive. The Strand has a big circulation, but BAMS reached a lot of readers who otherwise might never have seen or known about Molly or her plan. Within a month following the anthology's release in September 2015, I was contacted--mostly via my website--by (1) people I'd never met, (2) old friends I hadn't heard from in years, (3) several high-school teachers and college instructors asking if they could use my story in their classes, and (4) an agent at CAA in Los Angeles inquiring about film/TV rights to the story. (I happily put her in touch with my agent, but alas, that project eventually went nowhere.)

I think a lot of this immediately-after-the-fact interest was because the guest editor for that edition of BAMS was James Patterson, who singled out my story for special praise in his introduction to the book. He said, "'Molly's Plan,' by John M. Floyd, details the formation and execution of a bank heist so real and intense that I find it impossible to believe the tale took up only a few pages. An imaginative twist at the end of the story makes it a truly satisfying read." And no, Mr. Patterson is not my long-lost uncle--he's just one of those kind and encouraging authors who are famous but have nice things to say about writers who aren't, and for that I'll always be grateful to him.

Shortly afterward, Kirkus Reviews said, in its coverage of BAMS 2015, "In 'Molly's Plan,' John M. Floyd maps out a nearly impossible bank robbery with a twist ending that's so ingenious it's tempting to root for the bad guys." And Publishers Weekly mentioned it as well: "A never-robbed bank practically invites criminals in John M. Floyd's amusing heist yarn, 'Molly's Plan.'" All these kind words were welcome and unexpected and humbling, and made me even more thankful that I'd happened to look up from eating ice cream in front of the TV long enough to watch that news broadcast about that unrobbable bank the previous year.

Back to my story-history analysis. The following year, 2016, a sixth collection of my short stories was published, called Dreamland. (A strange name for a mystery collection, I know, but the title is from a crime/fantasy story I sold to Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine.) The collection featured thirty of my previously published stories, including that one from AHMM, an Edgar-nominated story from the Strand, two Derringer winners (one from EQMM and one from the Strand), and "Molly's Plan." Signings for this book were especially fun for me because copies of the 2015 BAMS were still on display at most of the bookstores I signed in, and a surprising number of customers wound up buying my story collection because of that (I might've, in weak moments, happened to mention the BAMS inclusion to them). Many even bought both books, which was pleasing to the store managers--and bookstore managers rank high on the list of folks I like to please.

Anyhow, another year passed by, and around the time any excitement about "Molly's Plan" seemed to have faded away (I was the only one truly excited about it anyway), I was contacted by an editor from Moscow who had seen my story and wanted to reprint it in Inostranaya Literatura, Russia's leading literary journal. I again called my agent, put him in touch with the editor of the magazine, and this time all went well. I got paid, thankfully in dollars and not rubles, and the Russian translation of my story appeared in IL's January 2018 issue. I still can't read the story, but the issue's sitting here on my bookshelf. 

Also in 2017, while I was getting those emails from Russia with love, another unexpected honor came along. I received a kind note from a lady at the New York Public Library, informing me that "Molly's Plan" had been selected for inclusion in their permanent digital archive, and partly as a result of that, they wanted to acquire the rights to use the story in their newly-conceived Subway Library System project, which would allow subway passengers audio access to a number of short stories read by professional narrators. They even designed what I thought was an eye-catching cover for the story--the one with the blond lady shown at the top of this post--to put in their promotional materials. I don't know if the project ever got off the ground--or into the subway tunnels--but it sounded like a worthwhile effort and I was flattered that the library folks wanted to again resurrect Molly and her husband and their illegal activities.

Finally and most recently, a full ten years after this story was first published in the Strand, my friend and fellow SleuthSayer Barb Goffman chose it as her "pick for the week" in Issue #155 of Black Cat Weekly. Thank you once again, Barb, for doing that, and thus giving this story some new readers. I'm glad you liked it and I hope they do also.

How about you, my fellow writers? Do you have stories that you wrote and sold and possibly forgot about, only to see those stories pop up again in other places, months or even years later? I know many of you have, because I've seen those stories in your own collections or in best-of-the-year anthologies or awards. If you're one of those fortunate writers, please let me know, in the comments section, about your experiences. Did you ever have a feeling, early on, that those stories might go on to gain later recognition? Or did those opportunities appear out of the blue?

In closing . . . keep in mind, everyone, that every time you put your fingers to the keys, these stories of yours that might've begun as vague glimmers of ideas in the middle of the night could just possibly be around for a long, long time. It's the exception rather than the rule, but it can happen. 

Just another reason to keep doing what we're doing.

See you next Saturday.