I’ve just had my first encounter with having something written for the wrong market.  And it’s annoying.

I’ve explained before that I typically produce two essays for SU.  Well, this month, I only did one.  I produced an essay that I really liked…. and then decided I couldn’t post.

It wasn’t appropriate.  It was close to being appropriate, but I don’t think that’s enough.  This is a blog about writers and books, after all.  It’s a refreshing mix of cautionary posts and instructional ones, all with an eye toward educating other writers.  My post was partly a historical lesson, partly a request for advice.  And that seemed to fly directly counter to the usual purpose of the blog.

So, lacking the usual fallback essay (although it was pointed out to me that I could use one of the unused essays from prior months) I attempted to revise the post until it was more appropriate.  I have done so, although the resultant essay felt lifeless and obvious.

I have just learned a lesson that every professional writer needs.  Know your market.  You can have something you think is wonderful, but if it is not appropriate for the venue it shouldn’t be submitted.

Sure, it’s an evident recommendation.  But even though it seems about as basic as basic can be, it remains a trap that young writers will walk into.  I’ve talked with too many who’ve complained about how long a particular story has been held, or that they’ve gotten a story rejected from one venue or another due to content.  These are failures, but not necessarily of the story itself.  These are failures of preparation.

Check the guidelines.  Don’t submit your romantic vampire story to the next Borderlands anthology just because it’s written well.  Don’t submit your splatterpunk epic to Weird Tales and expect it to sell.

And don’t become so wrapped up in the idea behind a particular post that you lack an appropriate alternative if, upon a last-minute reread, you decide that it doesn’t really fit after all.

Here’s the adjusted post, by the way:

Before the days of internet message boards, there were electronic “bulletin board” systems which relayed messages back and forth across the country. A computer with a modem would call a few others in its local area and upload/download messages in certain assigned forums. Those others would dial out as well. By hopping from local area to local area, messages would traverse the country over the course of a few days without racking up long-distance bills. It was an online forum with a delay of days, and all of the forums together were called “FidoNet”.

Before then there were only fanzines.

A fanzine is a brilliant innovation from the early days of science fiction fandom. An interested fan would write a summary of what was going on in their area of the country as regards science fiction and solicit other fans for letters or material submissions such as essays or cartoons. People who provided printable material got a copy or two of the fanzine for free and the other subscribers would pay postage. The fans were able to network all year even if they weren’t able to attend a convention (especially as, back in the earlier days of the genre, there were initially none - and then few - conventions to attend.)

Because the fans bought magazines and books and wrote letters to publishers and editors, professional authors often worked to develop good relationships with fans. That included encouraging the fans to produce work of their own, forming a “farm team” style of talent development.

Now, stepping back from the history for a moment:

I love the modern age. The internet has enabled instantaneous communication with others who share our interests (as well as fueling commerce and propagating porn. Actually, sometimes it’s done all three simultaneously.) While it used to take three days for a back-and-forth response with someone across the country via FidoNet, or two months via fanzine letter column, it now takes no more than the time needed to type. If you have a question about something you can find an appropriate venue and ask experts for their opinions.

What it lacks is permanence. Few message boards have archives going back more than fifty pages. That can sometimes catalog a span of multiple months, sometimes only a week or so, depending on the popularity of the board.

Blogs tend to be more permanent, especially if they’re run by conscientious people who back them up periodically. But even then, they suffer from the inherent transience of everything in the electronic medium. Remember Pets.com? How about Compuserve Forums?

I have stacks of older fanzines. The letter columns read like edited versions of today’s message boards. The reviews could come straight out of personal web sites, the life updates out of blogs. And because of their permanence, they offer an important lesson to today’s authors.

The people who participated extensively in the letter columns are a who’s who of authors of the time. Piers Anthony, Jack Chalker, Mike Resnick, Barry Malzberg, Bob Silverberg, Poul Anderson… the names really do go on and on. But they also share one thing in common: they didn’t overload the listings. Sure, they’d contribute a column here, stay engaged in a mail discussion or ten, do reviews for this or that ‘zine. But with rare exceptions, they weren’t producing fanzines themselves (although many started out that way) and they weren’t contributing to every fanzine out there.

The internet age has been around for what seems like forever… but, really, it hasn’t been all that long. With all of the distractions available to a writer, it seems like writing would be the most innocuous, especially writing which can be explained as furthering your exposure within the field, expanding your fan base. But there’s a methodology with a proven track record of success: spending enough time getting exposure to develop a perceived link with the fan base, which drives book sales; while at the same time keeping yourself from becoming too involved and bogging yourself down in fun but financially unrewarding writing.

People hammer home that writers write; that’s undeniably true, but it’s also important to consider exactly what, when, and how much you’re writing. There are decades of history which demonstrate that attention to that concept can maximize both your productivity and your visibility.

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This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 10th, 2008 at 10:47 pm.
Categories: submissions.

One Comment, Comment or Ping

  1. This is at least two essays, probably three or four. The first thing that occurred to me is that I have read essays or blogs here that had only a tenuous connection with writing, that seemed essentially or largely unrelated to the subject of writing, publishing, etc. But that’s okay. In fact, it’s been one of the things I’ve liked about SU. I’ve enjoyed essays that hit the bullseye in the writing target, and essays that are only theoretically related to that subject. Vive la difference! As long as there was SOME connection, I was happy.

    So, your unrelated, inappropriate essay might have been more appropriate than you thought. Often, we are our own worst critics.

    Knowing your market is definitely important. My biggest weakness perhaps in that area is that while I do read the guidelines, I don’t read the magazines or markets enough to truly have a feel for them. Still, you can’t read everything.

    Also liked your stroll down memory lane. The day of fanzines and modems that talked to each other has gone, and for quite a while now it’s been the age of the Internet. Transience and pornography rule. The change reminds me of the transition from the old typewriter to the computer. Do kids these days even know what carbon paper is (was?), or that there was once a time when you couldn’t copy and paste to move and insert things around and had to make sure you got all your footnotes (what’s a footnote?) on one page, or you would have to type the whole page over?

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