Today on Aeryn’s Archives I’m doing something a little different. Instead of looking at a single piece of work I published, we’re gonna look at, uh, all of them. Some of you may have noticed the professional credits page on the blog, but it’s honestly not something I expect folks to read. In fact, it’s mostly for me, a place where I can keep track of everything I do. Sure, it gets a few views now and then, but it’s just a boring list of I wrote this, edited that, and produced this other thing.
Anyway, I rarely talk about my writing history/career as a whole because, well, I’ve done a lot of different things that don’t fit neatly together. This seems like a decent way to approach the plurality of my professional writing experience in a way that’s somewhat succinct and hopefully not as dreadfully dull as looking at a pages-long list. 🙂
If I did my math right, I have 280 distinct writing credits. That’s 280 things my name appeared on/in alongside the word author or designer or whatever. Now, this comes with a couple caveats. Not all of this is fiction, and some of it is self-published. So anyway, let’s break this down into three categories.
When I say fiction, I mean fully narrative fiction. It’s kind of a weird distinction to draw because a lot of my game design credits are fiction(ish), but they have that historical documentary vibe, which I consider a slightly different beast. Anyway, these 108 credits run the gamut between short stories, flash fiction, microfiction, and longer works like novels, novellas, and novelettes. Oh, and a handful of them are co-author credits. I’d say about half these credits are things I published with Privateer Press before and after my tenure there and fall under media tie-in. The others are all mine, the short stories and whatnot you see me talk about on this blog.
Game design is a broad term, and I use it here to describe any non-narrative writing in service to a tabletop roleplaying or miniatures game. This category includes things like Dungeons & Dragons adventures I wrote for companies like Goodman Games and Wizards of the Coast, game material for WARMACHINE and HORDES, the principal tabletop miniature games produced by Privateer Press, and, finally, a whole bunch of history-book-style articles exploring the various IPs of the games I worked on (mostly the Iron Kingdoms). Like above with fiction, a handful of these are also co-authored.
Now, as I said before, some of these credits are fiction(ish), and some folks might consider something like the voice-y Gavyn Kyle articles I wrote for No Quarter magazine as fiction. That’s cool, and I wouldn’t put up much of an argument, really, but to me they fit more comfortably under game design.
Finally, we have the digital gaming supplements and adventures I wrote and produced under my own little RPG company Blackdirge Publishing between 2005 and 2010. All these supplements are designed for use with Dungeons & Dragons, either 3.5 or 4th edition. Running this little “company” was a good experience, and I learned a lot from it. I separated these out because they’re somewhat different than the other work I’ve done and I acted as author, producer, and publisher all at once. Most of these are micro-supplements, just a few pages long. I did produce a handful of longer ones, though rarely more than 30 pages or so.
So there you have it. My writing bona fides, such as they are. Of course, I also have a bunch of editing and production credits, but those are even less interesting than the writing credits. 🙂
I recently finished a short story, one I really like. After letting my critique partners work it over, I revised the piece, shaved off 500 words, and now I’ll start submitting it. What I want to talk about in this post is the wonderful, exhilarating experience of completing a new story and sending it out on it’s first submission. Let’s dive in.
I like lists. Maybe you’ve noticed. So here are three things I love about finishing a new story.
So that’s a bit about how I feel when I complete a new story. How do you feel when you finish a piece? I’d love to hear about it in the comments.
Today’s installment of Aeryn’s Archives features a short story called “Paint-Eater.” It’s an interesting piece in that it’s one of those stories that took a lot of refining (and a bunch of rejections) to get to a place where it was sellable. I’ll discuss that further below, but in the meantime you can head on out to The Arcanist and read the story by clicking this link or the illustration below:
“Paint-Eater” began life as the very first flash fiction piece I attempted way back in April of 2012 in a one-hour flash fiction writing contest. The story was well received enough (it took second, I believe) that I thought, “Hey, maybe I should write more of this flash stuff.” Despite that, I viewed my first flash as simply an idea for a story rather than a story unto itself, so I set about expanding it into a full-fledged short story. I still believe that was the right decision; the idea was too big to fit into 1,000 words. I ended up with a 3,500-word short in 2013, but I didn’t start submitting it until 2016. I’m not sure why I waited that long, but once I started sending the story out into the world the rejections rolled in. I was sitting on seven rejections when the eighth arrived with some solid feedback. The editor recommended a change to the story that was absolutely the right thing to do. Still, it took me a full year to revise and submit it again.
After a big revision I sent “Paint-Eater” in to The Arcanists Magical Story short story contest, where it took third place. So the edits I made seemed to be effective, and it was nice to finally place this one. Sometimes that’s what it takes to sell a story. It needs to evolve as you evolve as a writer, as this one did (and a few pointers from kindly editors don’t hurt either). I learned SO MUCH about writing and submitting between the time I wrote this story and the time I sold it, and “Paint-Eater” definitely benefitted from my continuing education.
Anyway, head out to The Arcanist and give “Paint-Eater” a read. 🙂
Submission wait times are an oft-discussed topic among writers and much rejectomancy is applied to how long a story is pending with a publisher. I’ve covered it before, some four years ago in this post: Submission Protocol: The Waiting Game. When a story is held longer than usual by a publisher, authors begin to prognosticate. Signs are read, the stars are consulted, and the bones cast in an attempt to divine what this delay could possibly mean. The great theory is this: the longer a publication holds your story, the more likely they are to accept it. Along with that theory is the idea that rejections generally arrive faster than acceptances. But is all that true? Let’s dive into the numbers and see if we can’t shed some light on this.
The last time I tackled this issue, I had far less submission data to work with. Now I have lots more, so we’re gonna approach things from a more data-driven angle. I currently have 449 submissions tracked on Duotrope. When we subtract pending subs and those I’ve withdrawn, we’re left with 423 submissions. Unfortunately, I need more info than many of these subs provide. I need to know the average return time (how long it actually takes) for the publisher AND the estimated return time (how long the publisher says it will take). When I sort for subs that meet both criteria I’m left with an even 200. Of those 200 submissions, 182 resulted in a rejection and 18 resulted in an acceptance.
That’s a sample size, but a pretty good one, so let’s look deeper at the numbers.
If the great theory holds, then all my acceptances should exceed the average return time and probably the publisher’s estimated return time. But did they?
Out of the 18 acceptances, only 5 were held longer than the average return time and only 3 were held longer than the publisher estimated return time. Now, take these numbers with a grain of salt, as this is a pretty small sampling of acceptances. The markets that held stories past average and/or estimated return times are pro markets, where that might be more expected. So, no conclusive evidence here, but let’s see if the rejections and their much larger sample size tell us something different.
Again, the theory states that rejections should come quicker than acceptances and be within or under the average and estimated response times. So let’s look at the 182 rejections I have and see what we see.
Of the 182 rejections, 130 of them arrived before the average return time and a whopping 166 arrived before the estimated return time. That’s 71% and 91% respectively. So, it looks like responses to rejections do typically arrive faster. But what about the rejections that took longer than the average and estimated return times? Anything special about them? Well, sort of. The percentage of personal rejections, further considerations, and shortlists was definitely higher, about 31%, as opposed to about 15% in the rejections that arrived quicker. So it does seem like you’re more likely to get a “better” rejection when your story is held longer, but it’s important to understand that a lot of top-tier markets only send form rejections, even if your story is held quite a while.
Does the great theory–that a story held longer is more likely to be accepted–hold water? I wish I had more conclusive evidence that it does, but I don’t. That likely has a lot to do with the markets that accepted my pieces that also had all the data I needed. So I’d say the jury is out. As for rejections, I think I have enough of those to state it does seem like a story held longer is more likely to receive a “good” rejection, a personal note, a further consideration, etc. I had a much larger group of submissions and publisher there, so it’s possible those results do support the idea that acceptances take longer too.
Of course, all this is classic rejectomancy and should be viewed as such. In other words, don’t get too hung up on how long your story is being held. It might mean something, and it might not, but you can definitely increase your anxiety level by obsessing over it. (This is absolutely a “do as I say and not as I do” moment.)
Thoughts on this? Evidence of your own? I’d love to hear about it in the comments.
Yesterday I received my 365th rejection since I started tracking my submissions seriously through Duotrope back in 2012. I think that’s kind of a cool milestone, and, well, like the headline says, it’s a whole year’s worth of rejections. Anyway, I thought it might be fun to dig into the numbers and see what 365 rejections looks like. First, let me offer up proof that I’ve actually hit this specific number. Below is a screenshot from my Duotrope account:
I’ve (crudely) circled the important things in red and removed the story and publisher name from my very first rejection through Duotrope way back in May of 2012. Now here are some interesting data point from those 365 rejections.
I have 82 distinct stories rejected, though a few of these were submitted as flash, rejected, then expanded to longer pieces, and also rejected. I went ahead and lumped those together as one story. Let’s look closer at the numbers on the stories.
Accepted: I managed to sell 41 of the stories in my rejected list. That’s exactly half, and that’s not too shabby. I think this further illustrates a couple of things I say all the time on this blog: selling a story is often about right story, right market, right time and even good stories get rejected. Here you see 41 stories that were rejected at least once (probably a lot more) but eventually sold.
Ten-Spots: Of the 82 stories rejected here, 11 of them were rejected 10 times or more. The good news is that I actually sold 7 of those stories. Again, this further illustrates that rejections are inevitable, even for good stories, even for stories you eventually sell to a pro market.
I have been rejected by 105 distinct markets. Some of these markets, like The Arcanist and The Molotov Cocktail, run contests as well as accept standard submissions. Those are separate entries in Duotrope, but I counted them as one market. Also, publishers like Flame Tree Publishing that run multiple anthologies I counted as a single market. Let’s look dig deeper into these numbers.
Lots of No: Of the 105 markets I submitted to 11 of them have rejected me more than 10 times. Most of these are top-tier pro markets and hard to crack. That said, I have managed to sell one or more stories to 4 of these markets. I hope to improve that number this year.
Pay: Going off Duotrope’s definitions of pay scale, which divides markets into Professional (.08/word or more), Semi-Pro (.01/word to .07/word), and Token (under .01/word), the markets I submitted to broke down as such.
One small caveat. The definition of professional has changed a few times since I’ve been submitting, mostly based on the SFWA’s recommendation for what should be considered a professional rate. If a market qualified as professional when I submitted a story to it, then I counted it as a “pro” market.
Status: Of the 105 markets that rejected me, 44 of them are not accepting submissions any longer. Duotrope codes these reasons as follows. Closed – The market has permanently shut down. Believed Defunct – This indicates the publication is believed to be no longer active. DNQ – This indicates the publication does not qualify for a full listing. On Hiatus – This indicates they are closed indefinitely to submissions and may or may not re-open at a later date.
The markets that rejected me that fall under these categories break down like this.
In my experience, markets listed as DNQ and a number listed as On Hiatus (but not all) are in truth closed, but they haven’t made any kind of official announcement. I present these numbers simply to illustrate how tough it is to for a short story publisher to make it these days.
As you can likely tell, I like data. I find the little nuggets of information you can find in the numbers to be pretty interesting, if not particularly useful. The following bits of lore pulled from my 365 rejections fall into the latter category, but, hey, let’s look at them anyway.
Days of Doom: The most rejections I’ve received in a single day is 4. That surprised me. I thought there would be at least one 5-spot in there, but nope. I’ve done the quad twice, on 10/30/18 and 5/15/19. I’ve done the hat trick (3 rejections) a bunch, seven times to be exact.
Months of Mayhem: There have been six months where I received 10 or more rejections. It feels like there should be more, but the numbers don’t lie. My most rejected month, however, was January of 2018, where I received 15 rejections.
Well, that’s the skinny on my 365 rejections. How are your submission (and rejection) endeavors going. Tell me about it in the comments.
Time for more submission greatest hits and another top ten list. This time we’re looking at the short stories I’ve submitted the most and what has become of them: submissions, rejections, acceptances, etcetera.
Yeah, I know there are actually twelve stories on the list below. That’s because of the ties (look at all those elevens), and, hey, I’ve already done some posts in this series, and top ten looks better in a headline. 🙂 Okay, let’s take a look.
|Set in Stone||27||24||0||3|
|Paper Cut||18||17 (2)||1||0|
|The Scars You Keep||16||4||0||2|
|A Point of Honor||11||10||1||0|
|Teeth of the Lion Man||11||11||0||0|
|What Kind of Hero||11||10||1||0|
|When the Lights Go On||11||10||1||0|
So that’s a total of 167 submissions, 141 rejections, and 8 acceptances. The rejections in parentheses represent the number of reprint rejections a story has received. All this works out to a 5% acceptance rate (rounding up), which is way, way down from my average of about 15%. Here’s the weird thing, though; I think some of these stories represent my best work (some clearly don’t, and we’ll get to that). If that’s the case, why did they rack up all those rejections? Let’s apply some rejectomancy and see what we can see.
So that’s my twelve most subbed stories. Tell me about some of your well-travelled tales in the comments.
Hey, here’s another installment of Aeryn’s Archives, my series of shameless self-promotional posts about works I’ve published over the fifteen years or so I’ve been writing and editing professionally. The story I want to talk about today is called “Night Games” and it’s easily one my favorite pieces I’ve written. I will also go so far as to say it’s one of the best things I’ve written. You can draw your own conclusions when you read/listen to it, but it’s one of the few stories I’m confident enough to share without (much) fear people will hate it. 🙂 “Night Games” was most recently published by the good folks at Pseudopod, and their audio rendition of the story is just awesome. So before I bore you with the whys and whatfors of the story, head on out and listen to it right here or click the photo below.
So why do I love “Night Games” so much? Pretty simple. It combines two of my favorite things: vampires and baseball. I think it’s quite evident when an author really loves what they’re writing about. That passion and zeal comes through the prose in a way that can be immediately felt by the reader. Now, of course, I shoot for that in every story I write, but with “Night Games” I think I was more successful than I usually am (with one or two exceptions).
Where the idea came from for this short story is actually pretty interesting. I mean, usually where ideas come from isn’t. They just kind of pop into your brain from god knows where, but this time I have a clear memory of how the idea formed because it’s based on a real event. Here’s what happened. Back in 2010 the Chicago Cubs had a player named Tyler Colvin. He could play a number of positions and swing the bat with some pop, and was what some folks might call a super-utility guy. Well, one fateful day in September of 2010, Colvin was in a game against the Florida Marlins and standing on third base. His teammate, Wellington Castillo, was at the plate, so Colvin gets his lead, and Castillo smacks a double. Unfortunately, the incredibly dense maple bat Castillo was using shattered, and as Colvin was coming home from third base, a splinter of that bat impaled his chest, missing his heart by inches. Colvin was hospitalized, but made a full recovery, and played another four seasons in the big leagues.
Now, what does all that have to do with the story I wrote. Well, as soon as I heard and read about Tyler Colvin’s injury, my horror-writer mind went into overdrive. I had this crystal clear image of a vampire staked with a baseball bat. That concept rattled around in my brain for a couple of years until I finally came up with a story idea to build around it in 2013. I wrote the story, polished it up, and sent it out. It was first published in 2014 by an online zine called Devilfish Review, which, sadly, now appears to be defunct. Then I got brave and sent it in as a reprint to Pseudopod, and in a shocking turn of events, they liked it and accepted it. Pseudopod published an audio version of the story in 2016, and in 2018 “Night Games” was voted as one of the recommended storie for new listeners. That was quite the honor.
If you’d like to check out the past installments of Aeryn’s Archives, covering some of my publications in gaming and fiction, look here:
Playing catch up and hitting you with multiple weeks here. I was on vacation for most of this period, then I caught a bad cold (while on vacation, no less), but I did manage to do a bit of writing and submitting and whatnot. Here’s how I did.
Got another one from the font of writerly wisdom that is Elmore Leonard.
“I don’t believe in writer’s block or waiting for inspiration. If you’re a writer, you sit down and write.”
Writer’s block is one of those subjects that pops up a lot in writerly circles. Does writer’s block exist? I can’t say for certain because I don’t live in the brains of other writers. I can say I mostly agree with Mr. Leonard, and that writer’s block is often a luxury you don’t have when you’re under deadline. The closest I get to writer’s block is simply fear of failing, which translated to fear of starting. When that happens, especially when I’m writing with a deadline, I do what Mr. Leonard says. I sit down and I write. That first half an hour or so can be absolute torture. Everything feels wrong and terrible, but, after a while, it starts to click, and the rest of that day’s writing often goes pretty well. Yeah, sometimes I have to go back and tweak that first five hundred words I stumbled through, but that’s a small price to pay for hitting my writing goal for the day.
Well, a week-plus of vacation and then a nasty cold definitely torpedoed my productivity on the novel. That said, I still have a completed outline and I met with one of my critique partners to smooth out some of the rough spots. I’ll start writing in earnest this week, shooting for the usual 2,000 words per day.
Despite the downtime, I did manage to get some submissions out and even collect a couple of acceptances.
I ended February with 10 submissions and 1 acceptance. Not bad. So far, I have 2 submissions in March and 2 acceptances. That’s a ratio I can live with. I’m still on pace for my 100 subs for the year, but I need to get my ass in gear for March and submit more work. The good news is that I’ve completed two new stories and I’m almost done with a third.
One of the acceptances I received last week is a new one for me. It was an acceptance rolled up into a rejection. I guess you could call it a, uh, rejectance. Anyway, I had submitted a story to a publisher for an anthology. They rejected the story for one anthology but liked it enough to offer to buy it in ANOTHER anthology they’re publishing. That’s pretty cool. Disappointment and triumph in the space of a paragraph. 🙂
I’ll likely cover the rejectance in a post of it’s own when I can talk more freely about this particular acceptance.
I wrote a fair amount of microfiction over the last three weeks, but I’ll just give you the highlights. As always, if you want to read my microfiction in real time, follow me on Twitter @Aeryn_Rudel.
The android awoke and asked, “What is my #purpose?” The scientists gathered around it replied, “You were made to protect humanity.” “From all threats?” “Of course.” After the android killed the scientists it launched a self-destruct sequence and fulfilled its purpose.
We told the men and women who fought the invaders they were #soldiers. They were a good way to test the alien capabilities before we attacked with more valuable combat androids. The humans that survived we thanked for their service, wiped their minds, and sent back out.
It was important to maintain the #royal line, and some inbreeding became necessity, but millenia of genetic purity had consequences. The mewling lump of flesh and shriveled limbs that currently sits on the galactic throne can hardly appreciate his trillions of subjects.
The #spirits in our house used to scare me, but Mama says they’re just people who got lost after they died. They don’t mean us no harm. All except the bad one that lives in the attic. She told us to stay out of there because that one was never a person, but it wants to be.
“Pick a final
#destination,” Death said.
“But I’m an atheist,” Dave replied. “I didn’t expect to be in this situation.”
“You gotta choose. Them’s the rules.”
“Fine. Send me to the place you think has the best music.”
“Uh, you okay with flames and death metal, dude?
Well, back from vacation and fully recovered from the plague, I’m ready to get back to work in earnest. Goal number one is to bang out some words on the novel, and then, as always, write and submit short stories.
That’s what I’ve been up to writing-wise for the past three weeks. How about you?
Back in 2016 I put together a list of markets I submit to first with new short stories (not flash; that’s a different list), dubbing it my new story gauntlet. I published that list in a post titled 7 Top-Tier Horror Markets: My New Story Gauntlet. As you might guess a lot can change in four years, and the list of markets I send stories to first looks a little different these days.
For reference, here’s my list from 2016, presented in no particular order:
Now the savvy submitters among you will certainly notice that, sadly, Apex and Darkfuse are no more. I’ve also dropped Nightmare Magazine simply because they aren’t open for submissions that often. When they are, I definitely give them priority.
Okay, so that’s three of seven markets above dropped from my original list, so who do I submit to first now? Take a look.
You’ve likely noticed a few things with my new list. One, there are more markets on it (ten now), and two, the markets are more diverse. So why is that? Well, the main reason is I’ve moved away from writing primarily horror, and I’m writing more sci-fi, urban fantasy, and stuff that mashes those two genres with crime and mystery. I’ve added markets that publish more sci-fi and fantasy and markets like Pulp Literature, On Spec, and the various Flame Tree anthologies who accept a wide range of speculative fiction.
Now the big question. How have I fared with the markets on my new list? Not bad, actually. I have four acceptances and six short-lists. I also have a ton of rejections, of course, but a fair amount of them are personal or higher-tier. Obviously, there are some very tough markets on this list, but I want to aim high with my work, and hopefully, one day, I’ll crack one or more of the heavy hitters on my list.
So why submit to these markets first? Let me break it down. The first four reasons are lifted from my first post in 2016, but I’ve added a few.
1) Reach and prestige. All of these markets are well read and/or have considerable clout in the speculative fiction world. They’re also the kind markets that look good in a bio or a list of publications. I’m not saying that publication at Pseudopod or F&SF guarantees an editor will buy your story, but it is something an editor might notice, and it says your work is good enough to make the cut at some tough publications.
2) Group memberships. Most of the markets above are qualifying markets for membership in various professional author organizations. I personally think joining those can be a good thing, and since I posted the original list in 2016, I’ve joined the SFWA as an active member. Recent sales I’ve made to some of the markets in the list above now qualify me for membership in the HWA (I’m looking into that). So if a membership in these organizations is something you want, then these (and a number of others) are good markets to target.
3) Awards. If you’re a spec-fic writer who dreams of winning awards like the Hugo Award or the Bram Stoker Award, then publishing at some of these markets (and others like them) is a good step toward that goal. Stories nominated for both awards and a few others are often drawn from the pages of some of the publications on my list.
4) Pro rates. Nearly all of the markets above pay a pro rate of .08/word, and some pay more. The money is less important to me, but it is often indicative of a market that meets the first three criteria. Markets that can afford to pay pro rates are generally well established and well respected, and publishing with them can be good for your career and resume.
The four reasons above are really about how a publication at one of these markets can help your career. The three that follow are more pragmatic and deal with the endless grind of the submissions process and how these markets make that process a little more bearable.
5) Quick Response. Most of the markets above respond quickly to submissions, and those that don’t have other mitigating factors I’ll discuss in a second. Eight of the ten markets I listed will get back to you within 30 days and some of them will get back to you a lot sooner. That turn time is for a rejection. Acceptances take longer, but they’ll generally let you know via a further consideration letter if your story is moving onto the next stage of review.
6) Simultaneous Submissions. I’ve started sending more sim-subs of late, and six of the markets above allow them. Those that don’t allow simsubs respond so quickly that no sim-subs is hardly an issue.
7) Reprints. I’m a big fan of the reprint, and most of the markets on my list are okay with them. Those that don’t accept them, either take sim-subs or respond quickly, and, hey, two out of three ain’t bad.
Now, obviously, I submit to more top-tier markets than these ten, and if I haven’t included one or more [super huge famous spec-fic] markets in my list it’s for one of the three pretty straightforward reasons .
So, there’s my new gauntlet run and the reasons new stories typically go to these markets first. Got a gauntlet run of your own? I’d love to hear about it in the comments.
Another week of writerly wins and woes. Let’s have a look.
Got two quotes for you today that essentially say the same thing. The first is by Stephen King.
“In many cases when a reader puts a story aside because it ‘got boring,’ the boredom arose because the writer grew enchanted with his powers of description and lost sight of his priority, which is to keep the ball rolling.”
The quote above dovetails nicely with this one from Elmore Leonard..
“I try to leave out the parts readers skip.”
King and Leonard are two big influences on how (and to some degree what) I write. I agree with King that one of my priorities, especially as a genre writer, is to keep the story moving. For me pacing has always been key to my enjoyment of a book. Leonard essentially says the same thing, just, you know, more succinctly because he’s Elmore Leonard. Now, both of these authors are shooting for a certain style (as am I), and in Leonard’s case that style is very spare. That isn’t the only way to write nor is it the best way to write, but I think the point these two authors are making is a good one. Keep the plot moving, keep your characters doing things, and let your reader feel the momentum building all the way to the end.
Well, I meant to start writing last week, but I sent my outline to one of my first readers to see if he might spot some things I could fix before I started writing. I’m glad I did that because my second act was, well, floundering would be one way to put it. He came up with a great way to inject urgency and conflict into that act that’ll keep the plot moving and give me some excellent character moments. He also spotted a few other things that’ll make my life easier if I deal with them now.
I’m not writing this week either because I’m going on a long overdue vacation. I will write, but I’ll focus on shorts and blogging and whatnot. Then I’ll begin the first draft after recharging the creative batteries in the sun for a eight days. 🙂
I had another good week of submissions.
Three more submissions last week puts my total for February at 6 and my total for the year at 15. That’s a good pace, and I’m on track for my goal for 100 subs for the year. The acceptance was from EllipsisZine for my reprint flash story “Where They Belong.” That’s one of my favorite stories, and I’m glad I’ve rehomed it with the good folks at Ellipsis. No rejections last week, but hoo boy, I’ve already got four this week. I have a feeling that total might climb even higher before the next update.
More #vss365 microfiction, and I really like some of the micros I came up with. I’d say February 13th is one of the better ones I’ve written in a while. As always, if you want to read my microfiction in real time, follow me on Twitter @Aeryn_Rudel.
“I have a #request.”
Getty always listened to the last words of the men he killed. “Go ahead.”
His mark held out a single 9mm round. The bullet had a silvery sheen.
“You’ll need this.”
The man glanced out the window where the full moon was rising. “Trust me.”
“He’s a friend of yours, huh?” Sal pointed at the Russian hitman waving them over to the bar.
“Ivan?” Lucky said. “More #ally than friend.”
“We’re here to kill him, Luck.”
“Guess I should demote him from ally to associate then.”
“Might want to add a ‘former’ to that.”
“Dude, put that thing down. It’s awful.”
“Hey, come on, you know the saying. You can’t #judge a book by its cover.”
“I can when the cover is made of human skin with the words TOME OF INESCAPABLE DOOM spelled out in bloody fingernails.”
“Okay, that’s fair.”
The ruins of their #empire dotted the moons of Jupiter and Saturn, great structures of black stone no light would penetrate. We mistook prisons for tombs, believing nothing could survive cold, vast eons. We learned too late what the elder ones knew: darkness does not die.
The catcher chuckled as Summers walked to the plate and took up his stance. In the majors, a 36-year-old #rookie was little more than a joke, an object of pity. He made his own punchline with one swing, and no one pitied the man circling the bases to thundering cheers.
The invaders looked and acted human in all ways but one. They couldn’t smile. They could only turn their lips up in a gruesome #parody of a smile–cold, empty, humorless. Mandatory screenings of comedies for all citizens improved morale and rid us of the alien threat.
“Too many people down there,” Lucky warned.
“No, I can get him,” Sal said.
Lucky put a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “What’s the hitman’s #creed?”
Sal sighed and laid the scoped rifle aside. “You’re right, Luck. No collateral damage.”
“We’ll get him next time.”
Since I’ll be on vacation for the rest of this week and most of next, I’ll keep the goals light. Write micros, finish a weird western story I’ve been tinkering with, and maybe send a submission or two. The rest of it can wait until I get back. 🙂
That was my week. How was yours?