Rules for Good Writing? How I Relate – Part Two
Last week, I published an article about the first five of Elmore Leonard’s famous Ten Rules for Good Writing and how strictly I adhere to them. You can check out that post here, but as a quick reminder, what I did was rate each rule on a scale of one to five. A one means I almost never follow it, and a five denotes something I consider an absolute law. Again, this is only how the rules apply to my own writing, and that post and this one are not about how they should apply to yours.
Okay, so here are rules six through ten and how, when, and if I use them.
Never use the words “suddenly” or “all hell broke loose.” (4)
Another one I think that’s largely about avoiding narrative cliches and overused idioms. Obviously, there’s nothing wrong with using the word suddenly, and even “all hell broke loose” can be fine, especially in dialogue. Moreso than avoiding cliches, though, this one, for me, is about avoiding telegraphing. I try to write action scenes in particular that happen organically, and even if they are sudden or unexpected, I often find there’s a better word or framing device that doesn’t scream to the reader SOMETHING IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN. You may have noticed that I rated this a four, and that’s because I don’t like the word never, and you’ll find the occasional suddenly in my work. I don’t know if I’ve ever actually used “all hell broke loose”, but I certainly have my own crutch idioms.
Use regional dialect, patois, sparingly. (5)
Here’s one where Mr. Leonard and I are in complete agreement. You have to be careful with this stuff for a couple of reasons. The first is that it can sound pretty inauthentic if you’re not intimately familiar with the dialect or patois in question, even if you’ve done your research. Second, there are some cultural sensitivity issues to be aware of, and if you’re using patois or slang that’s associated with a specific culture or marginalized group, you should think about getting a sensitivity reader to make sure you’re not being unintentionally offensive. For me, accents, even very common ones, fall under this rule, too. I try to let folks know that a character HAS an accent with beating them over the head with it. For example, here’s how I wrote a bit of dialogue for a character with a (fake) Irish accent.
“I’m looking for a friend of mine,” Sonny said, his faux Irish lilt turning mine into moin.
I find that a few little reminders like that get the idea across without me having to torture a bunch of poor unsuspecting words. Obviously, this isn’t the only or even the best way to write an accent, but it’s one that’s worked for me.
Avoid detailed descriptions of characters. (2)
I’m a big fan of a good character description. I like them when I read, and I LOVE them when I write. That said, what I want is more of a charcoal sketch than a full-blown oil painting. Give me a compelling framework for a character’s appearance when they’re introduced, then fill in additional details, if necessary, later on, bit by bit. Some writers can do that initial sketch in a paragraph. Others can pull it off in a single sentence. Despite not using this “rule” very often, I do understand the reasoning behind it, and it, like the next rule, play into rule ten, which might be the most important of the bunch.
Don’t go into great detail describing places and things. (4)
While I will go into some detail describing a character, I generally agree with Mr. Leonard here. Some of this has to do with the fact that I straight-up suck at descriptions, and I try to minimize things I’m bad at and maximize things I’m better at. Still, again, there’s sound reasoning behind this rule. Long descriptions tend to be the kinds of things readers skim (see rule ten). This is not to say you shouldn’t describe locations—you definitely want to avoid the two floating heads in the void situation—but I tend to be as brief as possible, giving readers just enough data to visualize where the characters are and then filling out the narrative with dialogue and action. Now, things is a broad category, but I still mostly agree here. The vast majority of the objects in my character’s world don’t require description at all, and if they do, not more than a word or two. There are exceptions, of course, and, you know, if my characters come across Sauron’s ring of power or something, I’ll probably describe the hell outa that thing. The caveat with this one, like many of these rules, is that’s somewhat dependent on style and genre. If, like me, you’re writing lean crime and horror, then it’s a pretty good rule. If you’re writing epic fantasy, on the other hand, readers have different expectations, and this rule may not apply as much. So, where this is a solid four for me, it’s definitely like a two for George R.R. Martin, and last I checked, he seems to be doing okay with this whole writing thing. 😊
Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip. (5)
Obviously, you should NOT write things that readers won’t read, so I’m in perfect agreement with Mr. Leonard here. This might seem a tad nebulous, but if you read the other nine rules, I think it’s clear what he meant. Cliches, long passages of exposition, info dumps, lengthy descriptions of people, places, and things, etcetera, can bog down a story and make your reader go a bit cross-eyed. From what I’ve read, Leonard prioritized dialogue and action, which tend to be more engaging, i.e., less skimmable. I tend to do the same and for the same reasons. Now, once more, this comes down to genre and style to some degree. Crime and horror tend to be shorter works and often have different pacing than SFF, where readers often want to see lavish descriptions and are more tolerant and even welcoming of more exposition.
And there you have it, Ten Rules for Good Writing and how, uh, good they are for MY writing. As I’ve stated over and over in this article and the last one, how these rules apply to your own writing is largely going to hinge on how and what you write. Don’t get me wrong; there’s good reasoning behind all these rules, as befits a master craftsman like Elmore Leonard, and it’s not a bad idea to think about that reasoning before you break one. If that reasoning doesn’t apply to you or your work, go ahead and use dialogue tags other than said, start your story with weather, and write page-long descriptions of people, places, and things. If you’re doing all that with intention, as many successful writers do, you’re gonna be okay. 🙂
Rules for Good Writing? How I Relate – Part One
One of my literary influences is Elmore Leonard. If you’re unfamiliar, Leonard is the author of some of the greatest crime fiction novels (among other things) that you have almost certainly heard of because a lot of them have been made into movies. A few examples are Get Shorty, Out of Sight, and the short story “Fire in the Hole”, which is the first appearance of one Raylan Givens, he of Justified fame.
Besides writing fantastic novels, Leonard is also known for his Ten Rules for Good Writing. These rules are often hotly debated in writing circles and contain some of the oft-repeated thou-shalt-nots seen on blogs and social media. Since he’s such a big influence on me, I thought it might be fun to take a look at Leonard’s rules and see how much I adhere to them.
Before we dive in, a disclaimer. In my opinion, you absolutely do not have to follow these rules to be a good writer. There are plenty of wildly successful authors who don’t. Leonard’s rules, like most, often come down to two things: avoiding cliches and producing writing with a certain style and tone. That said, there’s absolutely sound reasoning behind these rules, and it’s good to understand that reasoning before you break one. Still, I believe they should be viewed more as guidelines or starting points than indelible commandments.
So, in this post, I’ll gonna rate the first five rules on a scale of one to five based on how they apply to MY work (I’ll get the other five next week). A one means I never use it, and a five means it’s pretty much THE LAW for me. Again, the rating is not meant to indicate whether or not the rule is universally valuable or if it’s valuable to YOU. It’s just how it relates to my own writing and style, which again, is definitely influenced by Leonard. Got it? Cool.
Never open a book with weather. (5)
This rule, to my mind, is simply about avoiding cliches. It always reminds me of the old Peanuts cartoon where Snoopy is at his typewriter and opening his story with “It was a dark and stormy night.” The idea being, of course, that Snoopy is, uh, not exactly a great writer. Yes, I know that’s not where the phrase originated, but I’d guess more people are familiar with Peanuts than Edward Bulwer-Lytton’s 1830 novel Paul Clifford. There’s nothing technically wrong with opening with weather, of course, but it’s one of those things that’s become associated, fairly or unfairly, with cliched writing. I may have opened a story with weather at some point, but it is something I do try to avoid. But, hey, if you can pull it off, and some writers have, go forth and conquer. 🙂
Avoid prologues. (3)
There’s a lot of debate on whether you should use prologues or not, and I take a pretty neutral stance on them. When they work, they work, and there are novels with prologues that are among the most memorable parts of the book. For example, Jurassic Park and Game of Thrones both feature prologues that do an excellent job of defining the threat and stakes of the novel without intruding too much on the story itself or feeling extraneous. They set a tone, whet the appetite, and they just work. I’ve used prologues in a few of my novels, and I’ve written and deleted some, too. Generally, when I’ve deleted them, it’s because they create an unnecessary distance between prologue and the actual beginning of the story. When I’ve kept them, it’s been more of that Jurassic Park, Game of Thrones scenario, where the prologue set’s a tone or relays important information that a) I want the reader to have right away and b) can’t come from the protagonist(s). Note, I am in no way comparing myself favorably to the great Michael Crichton or George R.R. Martin.
Never use a verb other than “said” to carry dialogue. (4)
While I don’t agree that this rule is useful to every author, it works for me and my style. I use said probably 80% of the time when I use a dialogue tag, but I do use other tags, too. You’ll find asked, replied, responded, and even the occasional shouted, yelled, or muttered in my work. This is one of those rules that really comes down to HOW you write. For example, the excellent fantasy author Joe Abercrombie’s dialogue is full of snarls, screeches, hisses, and you name it, and it is, hands down, some of the best dialogue I’ve ever read. So, if you’re going for a more stripped down, get-to-the-point style, then maybe stick to said. If not, snarl, screech, and mutter away.
Never use an adverb to modify the verb “said”. (4)
Stephen King, another big influence on my work, is also very much against the use of adverbs to modify a dialogue tag. He’s kind of against adverbs in general, to be honest. I think this is a pretty good rule, primarily because, as King says (and I’m paraphrasing some here), a lot of writers use adverbs when they don’t trust the verb they’ve chosen to get their point across, or, in this case, the dialogue they’ve written. I think that’s often true, and I find in my own writing, when I use an adverb, especially of the -ly variety, I’m being a bit timid with my prose. So, I do try to edit out adverbs where I can, as they’re often an indication that I need a stronger verb or that my dialogue isn’t hitting right. Still, I’m not an absolutist, and there are time where I will modify a dialogue tag with an adverb. I tend to do it for extra emphasis, not because I think the reader won’t get what I’m laying down, but because I kind of want to beat them over the head with it. Obviously, bludgeoning your reader with an adverb is something you want to do sparingly, but, hey, every toolbox needs a hammer, right?
Keep your exclamation points under control. You are allowed no more than two or three per 100,000 words of prose. (2)
Look, you can definitely overuse exclamation points, but one every 100,000 words feels a little extreme to me. Don’t get me wrong; it absolutely works for Elmore Leonard, and I do believe the man had no use for them. I use ’em, though, and though I try to not to go crazy, I think an exclamation point in a tense, shouted/screamed bit of dialogue adds a little something. Now, I’ll admit, I do search for exclamation points when I’m editing, and I do nuke a fair few. So, even if you’re like me and a fan of the BANG!, it’s not a terrible idea to go through and make sure you’re not being a TOO dramatic.
As you can see, I’m not an absolutist when it comes to Leonard’s rules, even though I do see a lot of value in them. Again, it’s important to remember that a lot of writing rules are about producing a certain type of work, and in that regard they’re useful. If you’re NOT trying to write lean, fast-paced crime novels, though, and you’re writing say epic fantasy, then these rules may not be as useful to you. In other words, understand why the rules exist, what they’re trying to teach you, and then make the informed decision whether or not to follow or flaunt them.
Talkin’ Tags II: How THEY Write Dialogue
Last week, I posted an article about how I write dialogue, which dialogue tags I use, and why and when I use them. To be clear, I don’t think there is a right and wrong way to do this, just a way that works for your style and voice. This time, I thought it might be fun to look at some of the recent novels I’ve read, where the dialogue is top notch, and see how those authors use tags and what we can learn from them.
First, though, let me give you a quick refresher on my system. I broke down the type of dialogue tags I use based on five tiers and how often I use them. They are as follows.
- Tier One – Simple Said. I use said roughly 80% of the time. It’s unobtrusive, nigh invisible, really, and it works well for my style.
- Tier Two – We’re Still Just Talking. This second group of tags are ones that are pretty common and generally don’t impart any kind of emotion or drama to the dialogue. These are tags like asked, replied, responded, and even ones like added or continued. These tags generally make up about 12% to15% of the ones I use.
- Tier Three – Taggage Baggage. The third tier of dialogue tags are ones that absolutely add emotion or drama to dialogue, but they’re still parts of regular human speech. These are things like shouted, muttered, yelled, and whispered. Some words like called or observed might be in this category, too, though they’re kind of cusp for me. I use these tags more sparingly, and I’m usually in high single digits.
- Tier Four – Call of the Wild. The next group of dialogue tags are the one I use the least, and they’re words that could also be attributed to animal sounds, so things like roared, growled, hissed, hooted, screeched, and so on. I might use a handful of every 100,000 words, sometimes a bit more, but I’d say they fall in the 1% usage range.
- Tier Five – Tag Free. The fifth tier of dialogue tags is, well, no tags at all. This is dialogue that simply doesn’t identify the speaker with a tag because it’s obvious in context or does so with an action beat. I do this roughly 40% of the time when I write dialogue.
Now, before I get into discussing how some other authors use tags, I want to be very clear, again, that I am absolutely not saying there is a one true way to write dialogue or that tier one is better than tiers two, three, or four. In fact, as you’re going to see, authors can approach dialogue in VASTLY different ways and still be monumentally successful.
One more note. This’ll be sample size to some degree, as I only looked at 100 lines of dialogue from each author, but I think it still gives a pretty good baseline.
Author One – Elmore Leonard
Okay, so let’s start with the Elmore Leonard who is a huge influence on the way I write, and I believe his Ten Rules for Good Writing is where the “only use said” rule came from. I grabbed 100 lines of dialogue from his novel Out of Sight, and here’s what I ended up with.
- No Tag – 62
- Said – 31
- Action Beat – 7
Well, let it never be said (hah!) that Leonard wasn’t a man of his word. He didn’t use a single dialogue tag other than said, and, honestly, most of his dialogue doesn’t use a tag at all. He doesn’t even use action beats that often. I think Leonard writes incredible dialogue, and as you can see above, you can keep it super simple and write absolutely riveting conversations between characters. Leonard’s characters are so distinct, it’s easy to tell who’s speaking without any help from the author. When he does throw in a said, though, it feels like the absolute perfect point to give reader a signpost, a reminder, and then carry on.
Author Two – Grady Hendrix
Grady Hendrix is one of my favorite horror authors, and his dialogue is wonderful, snappy, and quite funny. I pulled 100 lines of dialogue from his latest book Witchcraft for Wayward Girls, and this is what I came up with.
- Said – 64
- Called – 8
- Asked – 7
- No Tag – 5
- Action Beat – 3
- Apologized – 2
- Replied – 2
- Screamed – 2
- Told – 2
- Continued – 1
- Explained – 1
- Shouted – 1
- Sighed – 1
- Started – 1
Okay, now this is interesting. Hendrix uses more actual dialogue tags than Leonard, though most of that tags are still said, but he expands a lot more into the tier two tags, with the occasional dip into tier three. I think the most interesting aspect of his dialogue is how little he uses no tags or action beats. Again, Hendrix, like Leonard, writes exceptional dialogue, and here’s the thing, I didn’t notice ANY of this when I was just reading the book for pleasure. It’s only when I read specifically looking for tags that I even noticed them, and that, folks, is absolutely a sign of good dialogue. I also like how Hendrix uses some fairly nonstandard words, like told, continued, and sighed. He doesn’t use them a lot, but they add some interesting variety. I’d say Hendrix is closest to the way I personally write dialogue, though I make no claims to be as good as he is. 🙂
Author Three – Joe Abercrombie
I’ve only recently started reading Joe Abercrombie, and one of the first things that jumped out at me was his dialogue. It absolutely crackles with energy. It’s so goddamn snappy and often outright hilarious. The man is gifted in this area, but here’s the fun thing, he breaks ALL the supposed dialogue rules. Here’s 100 lines from his recent book The Devils.
- No Tag – 31
- Action Beat – 27
- Said – 13
- Muttered – 6
- Whispered – 5
- Hissed – 2
- Wheezed – 2
- Added – 1
- Asked – 1
- Boomed – 1
- Breathed – 1
- Called – 1
- Complained – 1
- Confessed – 1
- Croaked – 1
- Frothed – 1
- Growled – 1
- Murmured – 1
- Observed – 1
- Snarled – 1
- Threw – 1
So, as you can see, Abercrombie is at the opposite end of the spectrum as Leonard. He uses a huge variety of tags, frequently dipping into tier two, three, and four, but, interestingly, he also uses no tag or an action beat almost 60% of the time. So he’s not beating you over the head with dialogue tags, which I think you’ll find is something folks who write good dialogue have in common. Again, when I first read The Devils, I didn’t notice the tags at all, despite many of them being ones that certain writing rules lawyers will say you should never use. His use of words like growled and screeched and boomed and all that absolutely ADDS to his dialogue instead of detracting from it. It’s truly a joy to read,.
So, we have three authors, all considered to be greats in their respective genres (crime/horror/fantasy), and all of them write dialogue differently. What should we take away from that? Well, for one, like everything else in writing, there just isn’t one way or a best way to do anything. If it works, it works, even if we can’t exactly explain WHY it works.
Two, I think the way an author writes dialogue has a lot to do with their genre and their own style and voice. For example, I don’t know if Hendrix’s dialogue works if he wrote it like Abercrombie, and I’m almost positive Abercrombie’s wouldn’t work if he wrote it like Leonard.
Finally, I think it’s vitally important that you find your own voice, your own way of doing things, and that will inform the correct way for you to write dialogue or anything else. It’ll be yours, and it will always be right.
Talkin’ Tags: How I Write Dialogue
If you’ve spent any time among writers, be it on social media or even in private writing groups, you will have almost certainly heard the “rule” that you should only use said when it comes to dialogue tags. I think this originated in Elmore Leonard’s 10 Rules for Good Writing (though I could be wrong there), and I’ve seen it discussed dozens of times on various blogs and social media. I was even an adherent myself at one point, though my views have changed, which you’ll see in a moment. So, with that in mind, let’s talk about how I write dialogue and which tags I tend to use, not use, and why.
Before we get further into this, a quick disclaimer. This is not an article about which dialogue tags YOU should use (or not use). That’s going to be entirely up to you, your style, your genre, and your audience. This is an article about how I write dialogue NOT how YOU should write dialogue. If what I do works for you, awesome. If not, also awesome. You be you.
Okay, with that out of the way, I honestly don’t think “only use said” is terrible advice, and I tend to agree that said is great in the sense that it’s pretty much invisible to the reader. That said (hah!), I don’t think there’s anything wrong with using other tags, and, personally, I prefer a broader tag repertoire that breaks down into five categories roughly based on how often I use them.
- Tier One – Simple Said. I use said probably 80% of the time (maybe even a bit more) when I’m writing dialogue. Most of the time, I almost always want the character’s words to do the heavy lifting and the tag is only there to remind the reader who’s speaking. Said is entirely unobtrusive, so it’s perfect for this, and it also works for my style, which tends to be pretty spare and stripped down.
- Tier Two – We’re Still Just Talking. The second tier of tags are still pretty unobtrusive in my opinion. They’re very neutral and don’t really bring any kind of baggage to the dialogue itself. I’m talking about words like asked, replied, responded, etc. Though I still try to use them sparingly, they’re great for adding variety to my dialogue when I feel like the sheer volume of saids is starting to jump off the page (and potentially at the reader).
- Tier Three – Taggage Baggage. The third tier of dialogue tags include words like yelled, shouted, whispered, and the occasional muttered or grumbled. These words are still part of normal human speech, which is kind of my litmus test for tags I’m willing to use, but they absolutely impart a tone or even an emotional state, so I’m careful with them. I generally save them for when I feel like the dialogue itself may not be hitting the tone I want. Now, there’s an argument that in those cases I should just revise the dialogue, but there are times where I feel one of these bolder tags adds something to the narrative. YMMV, of course.
- Tier Four – Call of the Wild. The next group of dialogue tags are the one I use the least, and I tend to think of them as, well, animal noises. I’m talking about words like roared, growled, hissed, hooted, screeched, and so on. Now I’ve seen authors use this fourth tier of dialogue tags very effectively, so it absolutely can be done, and I’m not judging anyone for hooting and hissing and whatnot. For me, though, these tags tend to clash with my characters’ voices. But, hey, I’m not a tag teetotaler, and you will find the occasional roared, growled, or rumbled in my work.
- Tier Five – Tag Free. The fifth tier of dialogue tags is, well, no tags at all. When I’m revising I keep an eye out for places where I can completely remove dialogue tags, especially if it’s clear who’s talking by context. This is handy when, like in tier two, I feel like I’m going a little heavy on said. A mix of tags and no tags creates a nice rhythm, and if you throw in some action beats, too, I think it makes conversations feel more natural. IMHO and all that.
But, hey, the above is just a claim without any real evidence, right? Well, I went though a couple of lengthy sections of dialogue from my current WIP and counted up all the dialogue tags I used. Let’s see how I did.
- Says- 49
- Action Beat -32
- No Tag – 6
- Asks – 4
- Mutters- 2
- Whispers – 2
- Repeats – 2
- Admits – 1
- Repeats – 1
- Replies – 1
- Rumbles – 1
- Shouts – 1
- Yells – 1
So that’s 103 lines of dialogue, and of that 103, 38 use no tag at all (tier five). Of the remaining 65, 49 use says, which is 75% and in line with the percentage I cited earlier. Looking at the rest, I’ve got 8 tags (12%) from tier two, 6 tags (9%) from tier three, and a single representative from tier four (1%).
This is raw first-draft dialogue, and in revision, there’ll be some changed. For example, I don’t think rumbles make the cut (though it may end up as something like grumbles). I’m also not thrilled with repeats and admits, which are technically tier two in my mind, though kinda on the fringe. As for my uses of yells, shouts, mutters, and whispers, I think I’ll likely lose one mutter and just pick either yell or shout and use it twice. The biggest change, though, will be removing dialogue tags entirely. In the quick readthrough I did to tally my tags, I saw a number of opportunities to cut tags or replace them with action beats.
So, there you have it. My take on dialogue tags, which I use, and when I use them. Again, this is hyper-specific to my writing, style, and voice. It is not a condemnation of any type of dialogue tag, though, I’ll admit, I’m hard-pressed to approve of something like ejaculated or pontificated, but, hey, if you can make those work, more power to ya. 🙂
Vampires and Demons and Hitmen, Oh My!
If you’re even passingly familiar with my work, then you’ll have noticed I tend to gravitate to certain tropes. Like, a lot. The top three are: vampires, demons, and hitmen/organized crime. There are definitely others (and I’ll likely do a part two for this post), but these tend to be the most common. Anyway, I thought I’d do a little public self-reflection and attempt to explain WHY I return to these particular monstrous wells again and again. Let’s dive in.
Vampires
Goddamn, do I love me some vampires, which can be tough as a writer as they are still generally maligned in editorial circles unless you do something really different with them. What attracts me to vampires is less the monstrous aspects of the bloodsuckers and more what remains of their humanity. Although I certainly dabble with vampires as pure monsters, I really like the idea of exploring certain aspects of humanity through the lens of the undead and immortal. I’m certainly not unique in this approach, though I do tend to shy away from more romantic interpretations (though, there’s nothing wrong with that). My favorite premise is the vampire where you don’t expect them: baseball, Uber drivers, ER nurses, dentists, etc. That juxtaposition of the mundane and the monstrous, where a put-upon vampire has to grit their fangs and deal with shitty customers/patients just tickles me to no end.
If you’d like to check out some of my published vampire pieces (that are also free to read/listen to, here are some of the better ones.
Demons
My favorite subgenre of horror films is demon-possession, and to say that they’ve influenced my work is quite the understatement. Though I’m an atheist, I was raised evangelical Christian, so demons and Satan and all that were a big part of my childhood. (Fun, huh?). So, it’s not too surprising that fallen angels and the denizens of hell make frequent appearances in my work and not always as monsters/villains. My demons tend to be of the Judeo-Christian variety simply because that’s the mythology I’m most familiar with. Like vampires, demons are great for exploring the human condition, and they tend to lend themselves to stories about anger, betrayal, and regret. This is not to say that I don’t sometimes use demons as simple boogeymen, but my favorite stories are the ones where the demons are more nuanced characters or even protagonists.
Some of my published demon-centric stories.
Hitmen/Organized Crime
I’m an absolute sucker for a good mafia/organized crime move/series, and I’ve watched Goodfellas, Casino, Eastern Promises, and a slew of shows like Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, and The Jackal more times than I can count. Hitmen, especially, intrigue me, and it’s no surprise they show up in my work a lot. I think a lot of this comes down to my love of the antihero, and what’s more antiheroic than someone who kills for money. Now, I of course know that REAL hitmen and organized crime is nothing like how it’s portrayed in popular media, so it’s essentially crime-coded fantasy. Speaking of fantasy, one of my favorite things to do is mix organize crime with my other favorite tropes, so, yeah, I’ve published stories about vampire hitmen, demons that work for the mob, and, of course, a bunch of just straight up crime fiction. I don’t mean to repeat myself here, but I think the reason I’m drawn to this trope is what it says about people in general, and how, especially with organized crime, a lot of the bad decisions and terrible things people do is a result of feeling like they have no other choice. That’s a bit reductionist, of course, and there’s certainly more nuance to be had in the genre, but for a broad strokes motivation, it’s compelling.
Here are some of my hitmen stories, both pure crime and hybrid horror pieces.
- The Ripple Effect – Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine
- Grandfather’s Pond – Flash Point SF
- Drums – The Arcanist
And there’s a tiny little peak into why I write what I write. Although vampires, demons, and hitmen are certainly the most common, I have been known to write stories centering on zombies, time travel, and dinosaurs pretty frequently, so I’ll discuss those in an upcoming article and hopefully impart something more compelling than, hey, I just like ’em. 😉
Thoughts on my overused tropes/monsters? What tropes do you tend to fall back on? Tell me about it in the comments.
Swings & Misses V: The Rejection Streak Returns
Anecdotally, a good acceptance rate for short fiction tends to be around ten percent. With regards to rejections, that percentage generally works out to a statistically consistent ten to fifteen noes in a row . . . except when it doesn’t, and you go on a rejection heater like the one I just ended. To whit, my last acceptance ended the longest rejection streak of my career, a staggering FORTY consecutive rejections before Incensepunk Magazine (bless them) put me out of my misery with yesterday’s yes.
So what the hell happened? We’ll discuss, but first some stats.
- Duration: 1/18/26 to 5/2/26 (105 days)
- Rejections: 40
- Stories: 22
- Markets: 32
Those 40 noes in a row eclipses my second longest streak, way back in 2018, by 13 rejections. Oof and also yikes. The only thing you can do when you hit a rough spot like this is to keep writing and submitting, but it’s hard not to start questioning your talent, your skill, and your sanity after about thirty not for us’s. Of course, me being me, I want to know WHY. There are no concrete answers, unfortunately, but I can put on my rejectomancer hat and make some educated guesses, and maybe we can learn something from them.
- Luck. As I’ve said many, many, many times, getting an acceptance is about putting the right story in front of the right editor at the right time. Get any one of those wrong, and you get a rejection. Obviously, it’s possible to get that wrong A LOT, and when that happens, the noes pile up in your inbox and you eventually post about it on your blog. Seriously, though, luck does play a part in getting published, and here’s some fairly compelling evidence for that. The story that broke the streak was also rejected three times during the streak. So, if I’d sent that story to Incensepunk first, well, I wouldn’t be making this post. 🙂
- Market Changes. When you’ve been submitting fiction as long as I have, you see publishers come and go pretty frequently. Usually, this is no big deal, but recently, a couple of markets that I could generally rely on to publish my work have either gone on hiatus or changed their guidelines with regards to how often they publish individual authors. This is not to say that I was in any way guaranteed an acceptance from these markets, but I generally like my chances, and they’ve broken up rejections streaks before.
- Trends. We’re getting further into what I’d call pure speculation at this point, but I have noticed a change in market and editorial preferences of late that might have contributed to this latest streak. Essentially, what I’ve seen, especially with newer markets, is a move away from darker more downbeat stories to those that are more hopeful and uplifting (I can’t possibly imagine why). This speculation is backed up somewhat by a few of the personal rejections I received in this latest string of noes where the editor flat out said they’re looking for stories with a more positive vibe. My work does tend to be pretty dark, and though I don’t want to make any wholesale changes to my style, it might not hurt to write a few stories that aren’t so relentlessly grim.
- It’s not them; it’s me. When you go on a long rejections streak like this, you should absolutely take a good, long look at your work and see if it’s lacking in any way. This ties into point three somewhat, but during prior streaks I noticed that my work had gotten a little stale. I wasn’t taking chances, and I was defaulting to concepts and narratives that were comfortable rather than challenging. I’d say that definitely happened here, too, so it’s time to stretch a little, challenge myself, and write outside my comfort zone. When I’ve done that in the past, the acceptances came more frequently.
It’d been a while since my last one back in 2022, so I was overdue, and boy, did the streak come back with a vengeance. Still, surviving these little (or not so little) statistical blips is just part of sending out a lot of submissions, though, as I listed in point four above, it can often be an indicator that’s it time to make some changes, too. So, don’t let a long rejection streak get you down too much, and maybe even take it as an opportunity to fine tune your work and your submission targeting.
Thoughts on my record-setting rejection streak? Care to share one of your own? Tell me about in the comments.
800 Rejections or That Which Does Not Accept You Makes You Stronger
On April 4th of this year, I hit another big submission milestone. I received my 800th rejections since I started recording them on Duotrope back in 2012. As usual, I have some dirty details on my nice round number of noes and not for uses. Let’s get to it!
Rejected Stories
First, let’s talk about the stories that were rejected. I had a total of 171 distinct stories rejected in the thirteen years and change I’ve been submitting. I went on to sell 81 of those rejected stories, which is roughly 47% or within spitting distance of half. That’s not bad, especially when I consider many of the unsold stories come from when I started submitting, and were simply not ready for primetime.
Most Rejected Stories
Below are my top ten most rejections stories.
- Time Has No Memory* (25)
- Set in Stone (25)
- Signs and Wonders (23)
- Trapping Disaster (22)
- Paper Cut* (18)
- The Scars You Keep* (16)
- Caroline* (15)
- The Downer* (15)
- Coffin Shopping (12)
- Bites* (12)
These are the stories that have racked up the most rejections. The ones marked with an asterisk are ones I eventually sold. One thing these stories all have in common is they’re short stories instead of flash. For whatever reason, I sell flash much, much quicker than I do shorts. That likely has to do with the fact that there are fewer slots available for short stories and they represent a larger investment of both money and time for the publisher. The one I’m most proud of here is “Times Has No Memory” which took me almost five years to sell, with final round rejections from a bunch of pro markets. I eventually sold it to Abyss & Apex last year, and you can read it for free right here.
Rejecting Markets
So, who’s responsible for my 800 rejections? Well, a whole bunch of publishers, actually. A full 178 of them, to be exact. These markets range from tiny for-the-love-of-it publishers to the biggest, most recognizable magazines in the SFF industry. I get around when it comes to rejections. One interesting and kind of sad statistic from this list is that a full 70 of these markets have gone defunct or are on indefinite hiatus. It’s a tough gig to run a genre mag, and no mistake.
Most Rejecting Markets
Below are ten markets that have rejected me the most.
- The Molotov Cocktail (54)
- Flash Fiction Online* (44)
- The Arcanist (31)
- Apex Magazine* (28)
- Flame Tree Press (25)
- NewMyths.com (25)
- Daily Science Fiction* (24)
- The Dark Magazine* (24)
- Factor Four Magazine (23)
- The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction* (17)
The markets marked with an asterisk are ones that I have yet to sell a story to. I know; that FFO number is pretty high, but I keep making it to the final round of consideration, so I’m gonna keep on submitting to them. Apex is a tougher nut to crack, but I’ve made it out of the slush pile enough and to the final round of their monthly flash fiction contest, so I think they’re worth keeping after as well. Of course, Daily Science Fiction is sadly on indefinite hiatus, so it’s unlikely I’ll ever get the chance to publish with them. Now, the numbers for The Molotov Cocktail and The Arcanist look pretty high, BUT I’ve published 17 stories with Molotov and 16 with The Arcanist, so my hit to miss ratio was still pretty good.
Lessons Learned
The big question is what have I learned from 800 rejections? Well, a few things that make getting rejected easier and allow me to put it in its proper perspective. If you’ve followed my blog for any length of time, then you’ll have heard me say these things before, but they bear repeating for new folks and as a reminder to the veterans.
- A rejection is often more about timing than the quality of the story. I mean, look, most of pieces, even my best pieces, received a bunch of rejections before I sold them. You have to put the right story in front of the right editor at the right time. Sometimes, you get lucky and you do that right out of the gate. Other times, like in the case of “Time Has No Memory” you get rejected 26 times before you finally get that combo correct.
- Don’t dwell on rejections. Move on. This is one of the most important lessons you can learn from rejection. They sting, especially at first, but most of the time, a rejection doesn’t tell you anything other than the publisher is not going to publish your story. There’s no feedback, and even when there is, it’s often highly specific to that market. So, feel your feels, then get that story back out there. You’ll feel better; I promise.
- If you believe in a story, stick with it. If you take away anything from his post, it should be that perseverance does pay off, and good stories do find a home eventually. So keep writing, keep submitting, and keep going.
And there you have it. The crunchy details on 800 rejections. Thoughts and opinions? Tales of your own rejection woes. Tell me about it in the comments.
The Millennial Milestone – 1,000 Submissions!
A few days ago, I hit a submission milestone more than a decade in the making. Yep, 1,000 submissions. It’s been a long road with a lot of ups and downs, but it feels pretty damn good to see that giant round number on Duotrope. I’ve even held off on sending out more subs recently because I just like looking at it. 🙂 Anyway, as I always do when I hit a big submissions milestone, I’ve broken down all the crunchy details for you. So, let’s dive in and see what 1,000 submissions actually looks like.
Basic Stats
Okay, first, here are the basic nuts and bolts.
- Submissions: 1,000
- Acceptance: 120
- Rejections: 797
- Lost/Returned: 3
- Never Responded: 25
- Withdrawn: 32
- Pending: 23
- Acceptance Percentage: 13%
Most of these categories are pretty obvious, and things like acceptances, rejections, and pending don’t need further explanation. Now, I’ll admit, I don’t even remember why I labeled three submissions as lost/returned instead of never responded. I will say, that I use never responded now for markets that a) don’t respond and b) don’t have a notice in their guidelines that says a non-response is basically a rejection. Withdrawn is also pretty obvious, though the vast majority of my withdrawn subs, especially early on, were from markets that didn’t respond after one or multiple submission status queries. Now I use it for the rare occasions I sell a story that’s been sim-subbed or I remove a story for other, miscellaneous reasons. The acceptance percentage is simply the number of acceptances divided by the number submissions minus pending, withdrawn, lost/returned, and never responded. An argument could be made that I should count never responded as rejections, so if you want that number, it drops my acceptance percentage to 12.7 percent.
The Stories
Now let’s look at the stories that made up all those submissions. Below is the number of distinct stories, then those stories broken out by length. The number in parentheses is the number of each type of story I’ve actually sold.
- First Submission: 4/16/12
- Last Submission: 3/20/26
- Distinct Stories: 195
- Flash Fiction: 147 (76)
- Short Stories: 40 (23)
- Microfiction: 4 (3)
- Novels: 3 (0)
- Novellas: 1(1)
Hey, how about that perfect record on novellas? Not bad, huh? 😉 Anyway, 195 stories is a bunch, and one of the things I’m most proud of in this heap of stats is that I’ve sold a bit more than half of the stories I’ve written (103 out of 195). Looking back over my submission history, there are a bunch of stories that simply weren’t good enough to be submitted in the first place, but I think that’s a common issue for most writers when they first start seriously subbing their work. These days, I’m a bit better at only subbing stories that have a chance of selling. Obviously, the bulk of my output has been flash fiction, but my overall acceptance rate is about the same for short stories. It just takes me a lot longer to sell them.
Here are a couple of other numbers I wanted to share about individual stories.
- Most Subbed Story: 28
- Most Subbed Story Before a Sale: 26
My most subbed story period is an urban fantasy piece called “Set in Stone.” I shopped it for years, and though I got a couple of final-round rejections, I never could place it. It now lives in the trunk. On the other hand, “Time Has No Memory” was also subbed for years, but I did manage to sell that one to Abyss & Apex. It comes out next month. 🙂
The Markets
Finally, let’s take a look at the markets whose inboxes I’ve been haunting over that last decade and change. Couple of notes here. At one point I was tracking my novel queries through Duotrope, which was a mistake that just kind of muddied the waters. Those queries are included in my submission total, but I’ve removed them from the distinct markets list because, well, agents aren’t markets. In the case that I sent a novel directly to a publisher, though, I included that publisher in the numbers below. It’s not perfect, but it’s what I got. Also, I’m kinda going off memory for some of these markets as to whether they’re semi-pro or token. That’s primarily because so many of the markets on my list don’t exist anymore, so I have no reliable way to look that up. I think I’m mostly right, though, especially with the pro markets.
- Distinct Markets: 227
- Pro Markets: 92
- Semi-Pro Markets: 127
- Token Markets: 8
As you can see, I generally restrict my submission to pro and semi-pro markets, though some of these markets make semi-pro by the skin of their teeth. Lately, I send to pro markets first, then to semi-pro, and then I usually trunk the story or wait until more pro or semi-pro markets open for subs. I will occasionally send a piece to a token publisher, but it’s usually a reprint.
Couple of other numbers regarding individual markets you might find interesting.
- Most Subs to a Single Market: 72
- Most Subs to a Single Market Without a Sale: 44
The most subs to a single market is to The Molotov Cocktail, mostly on account of their flash fiction contests. I do have 17 acceptances there, though. The other market that I’ve sent a TON of work to where I actually sold them something was The Arcanist, now sadly on hiatus. I sent them 50 submissions and sold them 16 stories. Now for the bad news. The market that I have submitted to most without a single sale to my name is Flash Fiction Online. I’ve made it to the final round of their deliberations enough that I’ll keep trying, but, man, 44 noes in row does sting a bit.
And there you have it. One thousand submissions in all their glory and shame. Let me know what you think about my little milestone, and feel free to share one of your own in the comments.
I’ll see ya at 2,000! 😉
Three Things I Learned from 100 Story Sales
Since I started submitting work seriously in 2013, I’ve sold* 120 short stories. Like the piles of rejections I’ve racked up in that same time, my much smaller heap of acceptances has taught me some valuable lessons about writing and the often arcane process of trying to get other people to publish your work. Let’s talk about three of them.
- Short Sells. In my experience, the shorter the story, the easier it is to sell. I even have stats to back it up. To date, I have sold 85 flash fiction stories and 29 short stories. I’ve also sold a novella and a handful of micros, but, you know, sample size. It generally takes me about three submissions to sell a flash piece, while it takes an average of eight to sell a short story. Part of this might simply be because I’m better at writing flash fiction than I am at writing longer works, but there are definitely other factors at play. One, flash fiction markets tend to publish more often, sometimes once per week, hell, sometimes daily, so they tend to be open to subs more often and they need more subs than other journals. So, basically, your chances of selling a flash piece are just better because there are more open slots. Now, this is not to say you shouldn’t write and submit shorts–I mean, I do–but you should expect it to take a little longer to get stories over 1,000 words accepted. Of course, this could just be a me problem, and the rest of you are selling 5,000-word shorts on the first sub. 🙂
- Dance With the Ones That Brung Ya. Look, I definitely try to sell as many stories to as many markets as possible, but when I find a publisher that likes my work enough to publish it multiple times and pays a pro rate, I’m going back to that well. A LOT. You see, I am convinced that selling a story comes down to right editor, right time, right place, and when I sell multiple pieces to the same market, then I feel I’ve got two of those things in my favor. It’s even better when these markets that get me are pro rate publishers. So, yes, I’m gonna keep chasing acceptances at Flash Fiction Online, Small Wonders, Nightmare, and Apex, but I’m also gonna keep sending stories to Factor Four Magazine, MetaStellar, and The Flame Tree Flash Fiction Newsletter, all of which have published me three or more times. It’s good for my acceptance numbers, good for my confidence, and it puts more of my stories at respected markets for folks to read.
- It’s Okay to Ignore Editorial Feedback. Getting feedback on a rejection is great, and I have nothing but gratitude for editors that take the time to leave a personal note. For one, it tells you a lot about what the editor wants out of a story, and it can tell you when it’s time to revise. That said, a lot of feedback is simply editorial preference, and it’s perfectly okay to ignore it if it doesn’t fit your vision of the story. I’ve received feedback on stories that were rejected, decided not to action that feedback, and then sold the story to a pro market on the next submission. Conversely, I have taken editorial feedback to heart when it resonated with me, made the revisions, and then sold the story likely because of those revisions. This is not to say that the editorial feedback I ignore is wrong. It’s 100% right for that editor and that market, but ultimately not right for my story. It can be tricky to tell which is which of course, and it comes down to a gut feeling borne out of experience and a deep understanding of your specific goals with each story.
So, there you have it. Three lessons learned from 100-plus story sales. Now, admittedly, these are fairly specific to my personal experiences, but I think there’s some universal truths here that are applicable to anyone heading into the submission trenches.
What have you learned from your own story sales? I’d love to hear about it in the comments.
*The vast majority of my short story publications are of the paid variety, but for the sake of transparency, there are some “for the love of it” publications in the mix.
2026 Writing Goals Bingo
Last year, I set a number of short fiction writing goals for myself that I represented in a bingo card as a fun bit of motivation and to have a snazzy graphic for blog posts. Though, at the end of the year, I did okay, I may have been a little too ambitious. Anyway, I’m doing the writing goals bingo thing again for 2026, but I’m being a tad more conservative with how high I set the bar in certain areas. So, without further ado, here’s the 2026 goals.
So, the five goals, which are each broken up into five sperate tiers above, are:
- 120 Submissions
- 100 Rejections
- 15 Acceptances
- 12 Pro Sales
- 30 New Stories
Each of the goals is pretty straight forward, but I’ll discuss each one and give you my reasoning for where I set the bar.
120 Submissions – Last year, I set this goal at 150, and I managed 122 submissions. I’m setting it at 120 this year because though it is a very steady pace, it’s not breakneck. That said, this is one of the goals I think I can easily hit or exceed since it’s entirely within my control.
100 Rejections – For me, hitting 100 rejections means I’m a) sending a lot of submissions and b) writing a lot of new material. So, it’s kind of gauge for how I’m doing other goals, and if I hit those, I should hit this one almost by default.
15 Acceptances – In 2025, I set this mark at 25 acceptances, which is, admittedly, bananas. I don’t regret doing it since I have flirted with 20 acceptances in a single year in the past, but in the current literary environment, and since I primarily submit to pro markets, 15 feels a lot more doable, and, hey, I WANT to succeed. 😉
12 Pro Sales – This is probably the most ambitious of my goals, as pro sales are pretty tough to come by. Last year, I had five pro sales, which was half of my ten total. I did, however, have A LOT of final-round rejections from pro markets, so I feel like ten or twelve is possible with a little luck. So, yeah, twelve is ambitious, but I think doable.
30 New Stories – Last year, I set another ambitious writing goal, which was to write a new story every week. I didn’t succeed, but I did manage 35 new stories, which is a good number, I think. I set the bar a little lower this year because I’ve got some other projects I want to work on. But if I can manage 30 new stories, I should have pretty good shot at hitting my other goals.
And those are my short story submission goals for 2026. Although I backed off a bit from last year’s goals, I think these are more than respectable, and if I can hit them all, that’ll be a hell of a good year.
What are your writing goals in 2026? I’d love to hear about them in the comments.
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Aeryn Rudel's Rejectomancy 