Aeryn’s Archives: Roll Credits

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. 🙂

Total Writing Credits: 280

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.

Fiction Credits: 108

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: 102

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.

Self-Published Game Design: 70

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. 🙂

Aeryn’s Archives: Paint-Eater

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. 🙂

Aeryn’s Archives: Night Games

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.

Anyway, that the story of “Night Games.” So do me a favor, head on out to Pseudopod when you have a minute, and listen to the story. You can even tell me what you think in the comments.


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:

Aeryn’s Archives: Cowtown

Today’s installment of Aeryn’s Archives continues a trend of firsts. My comedy/horror story “Cowtown” was the first story I published with The Arcanist and the first story they published after launching. In the ensuing two years and change, The Arcanist has become one of the best damn flash fiction markets in the industry. Now, here’s a cow.

So a little about how this story came to be and how it ended up at The Arcanist. Like the vast majority of my published flash fiction “Cowtown” started out as a one-hour flash fiction contest/writing exercise. I honestly don’t even remember what the prompt was, but I do remember it reminded me of my hometown of Modesto, California, which has a ton of dairy farms. In fact, my uncle owned a small one, and I spent no few summers bucking hay and trying not to get cow shit on my shoes. Anyway, the myth of the chupacabra is one of my favorites, and I thought it would be fun to do a “mistaken identity” story with that particular beastie.

How did the story end up at The Arcanist? Back in 2017 I was perusing the “Fiction Markets Added” section at Duotrope, as I often do, when I saw a new and interesting publisher. A couple of things caught my attention immediately. One, they were a flash fiction market. (Hey, I write flash fiction.) Two, they published fantasy, sci-fi, and horror. (What do you know; I write all three.) And, finally, three, they paid. (I like money.) So off I went to read The Arcanist’s guidelines. I found a professional and well-organized site with clear (and fair) guidelines, and I had just finished a slightly cooky flash piece I thought might be a good fit. My only hesitation with sending “Cowtown” was it’s comedic element. Now everything in publishing is subjective, but I find humor is VERY subjective. Luckily, the folks at The Arcanist share my (warped) sense of humor, and “Cowtown” ended up being the first of three horror/comedy pieces I published with them. (The other two are “Do Me a Favor” and “Small Evil”.)

Again, it was an honor to be the first story at The Arcanist, and it’s been great watching them grow and watching so many of my writer friends get published there too.

Anyway, you can read “Cowtown” by clicking the links scattered throughout this post, the big one in red below, or, if you prefer, the giant cow above. 🙂

READ “Cowtown”

The Way I Write Part 4: Something Resembling a Style

Over the past month I’ve explored my writing as it’s developed these past twenty years. I’ve been using the Flesch-Kincaid readability scores and the old fashioned eyeball test to chart changes in my work. We’ve looked at some of very early pieces, purple and laden with adjectives, a more transitional phase where I started to reign in my wordier impulses, and then some of my published work, where my voice and prose began to resemble something similar to how I write today. In this last post we’ll look at recent work, and see how the writer I am today is different from the writer I used to be.

Before we get into to those recent examples. Here are the other posts in this series for reference.

“Night Games” (circa 2014 A.D.)

This is passage from my short story “Night Games,” which I completed in 2012 and sold in 2014 (after a revision or two). I sold it again to Pseudopod in 2016 (click this link to listen). “Night Games” is an important story to me because it’s one of the first pieces I wrote where I really felt like I knew what I wanted the story to accomplish, and then I went and did that (and it mostly worked).

Randall Simmons only plays night games. As he steps into the right-handed box and taps his bat on the plate, he reminds me why. His smile, aimed at the pitcher’s mound, is wide and predatory. The bright stadium lights catch for a moment on his teeth. Even from 60 feet, 6 inches away, those teeth are too long and too sharp.

Randall is showing me his secret smile, some of it anyway. His smile is for me because I’m here to preserve the Kansas City T-Bones’ one-run lead in the top of the ninth against his team, the Wichita Wingnuts. It’s also for me because I’m the only person in the stadium who knows Randall Simmons is a vampire.

Anytime I step out of the bullpen it’s a big deal. It’s a chance to earn a save, win the game, and even make someone notice a washed-up twenty-five-year-old pitcher trying to make it to the bigs. That’s a tall order in the independent leagues, where dreams of big-league baseball and big-league money go to die. Unlike most nights, I’m not thinking about my fastball, my curveball, or the good slider that got me drafted by the A’s five years ago. I’m thinking once the game is over Randall Simmons will kill me.

I’d had the idea for this story rattling around in my brain for a few years, and then one day it all clicked, and “Night Games” became a thing. I’d say it’s the first story I published in, well, my current era of writing, for lack of a better word. With this story I started to figure out what my strengths were and how best to utilize them, but let’s have a look at the numbers.

  • Passive Sentences: 0%
  • Flesch Reading Ease: 73.3
  • Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level: 7.0

You might notice those numbers are a little higher than where I was trending in the last post. The difference here is that I am trying for a specific voice, one that’s going to come across as technical and a little wordy (baseball is a pretty nerdy sport). That voice is borne out in the numbers, but, as opposed to the wildly purple prose of my stories from the early aughts, this is still very readable.

Let’s move on a couple of years and look at another piece.

“Scare Tactics” (circa 2016 A.D.)

With this story I started using a voice and style that is very much what and how I enjoy writing. This story is one of the first of my horror/noir/urban fantasy mashups that features a healthy dose of black humor. It’s also one of my most successful stories, as I’ve sold it three times. The Dunesteef did a great little audio version of the piece you can listen to right here.

She got out of the car, popped open the trunk, and made a face at the awful stink within. A pungent mix of the worst fart overlaid with rotting meat and old garbage wafted up from the dark enclosure.

“Jesus,” Lindsey said, covering her mouth. “Can’t you control that?”

A jumbo-sized Raggedy Ann doll that had seen better days lay face-up in the trunk. Moth holes pocked its pinkish cotton, and its once-bright dress was dirty and stained. Only the red yarn hair retained its original color.

Adramelech’s voice drifted up from the doll, faint and irritated. “You know I can’t help it. You keep a demon in physical form, you get the stink. That’s the way it is. Maybe you shouldn’t stick me in a small, enclosed space.”

“And have that stench up front with me? No thanks. Hey, switch to silent mode. It’s almost show time.”

Ugh, are we doing this again? Adramelech’s voice spoke in Lindsey’s head now, as she’d requested. It wasn’t quite telepathy. He couldn’t read her thoughts, like she couldn’t read his, but they could “hear” each other when they wanted. It’s demeaning, you know. I’m a demon of the first order, a goddamn chancellor of Hell. I’m not some bullshit scare artist.

Lindsey stifled a chuckle. Chancellor, my ass. I’ve read de Plancy. He says you were primarily Lucifer’s fashion consultant.

I had so much fun writing Lindsey and Adramelech, and I’m about to write a whole lot more about them. Anyway, this story just clicked for me, the characters, the subject matter, the genre mashup, all of it. I think a lot of having any success as a writer is figuring out where you belong, and for me, this is probably it.

Okay, what about the numbers.

  • Passive Sentences: 0%
  • Flesch Reading Ease: 80.5
  • Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level: 4.4

Yep, that’s right where I want it. Nice and conversational. These stories have a ton of dialog (and a fair amount of four letter words), and so they make for quick and, well, easy reading, and that too is where I live now.

One more story.

“A Point of Honor” (circa 2019 A.D.)

The final story is one I published last year, and it’s a bit of a departure for me in genre and tone. It’s near-future dystopian sci-fi that deals with a real-world issue–cyberbullying–in a Twilight Zone-esque manner. You can check it out from the publisher, Radix Media, right here

Jacob opened his mailbox and froze. The sight of the scarlet envelope between the bills and advertisements twisted his stomach into cold knots of dread. He’d never seen a declaration from the Bureau of Honorable Affairs in person. 

Jacob glanced around the street, empty and quiet, terrified someone might see. He snatched the declaration from the mailbox, tucked it into his robe, and hurried inside.

Sara stood at the kitchen counter drinking coffee. “Anything in the mail?”

He pulled the declaration from his robe and tossed it on the counter. It looked like a fresh bloodstain on the white tile.

Sara’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth with one hand. “Why do you have that?” 

“I don’t know. I haven’t hurt anyone.”

“Of course you haven’t. You’re a forty-year-old computer programmer.” 

He grimaced at his wife’s blunt assessment. “Maybe it’s a mistake. They’re a big government agency. They screw up, right?”

“Yes, a mistake.” Sara seized on this scant hope. “Has to be.”

The difference between this story and “Scare Tactics” is mostly tone. The writing is fairly similar I think, with direct, even Spartan prose and a lot of dialog, but let’s check the numbers.

  • Passive Sentences: 0%
  • Flesch Reading Ease: 75.1
  • Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level: 4.5

Yeah, that’s still in what I’d call my sweet spot. The reading ease is a tad higher in this passage, but if you run the entire 5,000-word story its right at 84.


Before I wrap this thing up here are the readability numbers for all the stories in the blog series.

Date Story Reading Ease Grade Level
2000 Lullaby 53.5 13.4
2005 Rearview 37.9 14.4
2006 The Tow 61.6 10.7
2007 The Fate of Champions 62.9 8.7
2010 Blasted Heath 75.1 6.0
2012 At the Seams 85.8 4.7
2014 Night Games 73.3 7.0
2016 Scare Tactics 80.5 4.4
2019 A Point of Honor 75.1 4.5

So what have I learned from this exploration of my writing over the last twenty years? I think the easiest conclusion to draw is as the writing became simpler and more direct, i.e., more readable, I started getting published. This is not the only way to get published, of course, but for me, stripping things down, focusing on dialog and action (things I’m good at) instead of long descriptions and beautiful prose (things I’m NOT good at) has allowed me to publish a fair amount. I’m certainly still a work in progress, and there’s more growing and learning to be done, but I like where I’ve ended up. I don’t think I’m trying to sound like other published fiction (at least not on purpose), and I now have something resembling a style. But who knows? Maybe in five years I’ll change my mind and start trying to sound like H.P. Lovecraft’s dictionary again. 🙂

The Way I Write Part 1: The Early Years

This will be the first of three (maybe four) posts that explore my writing over the last twenty years, focusing on how it has changed, and, hopefully, improved. With twenty years of writing under my belt and about fifteen of those years being the paid, professional variety, I have a lot of examples to draw from. I’ll be using the Flesch-Kincaid readability scores to assess passages from various stories so we can get good hard numbers on each piece of work and see how it differs from those that come after it.

Okay, let’s start with the early years, basically 2000 to 2005. This is before I actually published anything besides poetry (a whole other story), and though I think I had some solid ideas, the execution of those ideas were, well, lacking. A quick disclaimer before we dive into this. This post is an examination of my writing, what worked for me, and what eventually led me to publication and full-time writing and editing gigs. (Getting the whole me thing?) If I say something is bad or purple or whatever, I’m only doing so to compare my unsuccessful works with my successful ones. Much of what is coming is going to be opinions on style based on personal experience, so, please, keep that in mind.

“Lullaby” (circa 2000 A.D.)

The first passage comes from 6,500-word short story called “Lullaby” I wrote sometime in 2000. This is one of my first true attempts at a short story and the first I actually finished. I never sent it out for submission, well, because by the time I started doing that, I realized the story had some issues. That said, there is still a compelling idea here, but it REALLY needs a rewrite. Anyway, have a look.

I am not sure what woke me that night, but near three o’clock in the morning my sleep-numbed mind began the rigorous ascent to consciousness. I opened heavy lids to absolute darkness and a shivering chill that filled the room and pierced even our heavy comforter. As my eyes adjusted to the weighty gloom, I heard Karen breathing in short quick gasps and felt the tension in her body even through the heavy padding of our mattress. As I reached out to shake her from the grip of whatever nightmare held her, I caught, from the corner of my eye, a visible shifting in the deep shadows in one of the corners of our room near the floor. I froze, my hand hovering over Karen’s trembling form and watched with growing horror as a single shadow separated from its brethren and began a slow, stalking undulation towards my wife’s side of the bed.

As the shadow grew closer, and my eyes adjusted further to the darkness, I was able to discern a definite, fiendish outline to our unwelcome visitor. There was most certainly a roundish protrusion from the central mass of shadow that could only be a head, and two amorphous appendages projecting from either side that pulled the thing along the floor towards my slumbering wife. There were no legs to complete the vaguely man-shaped bulk, only a wispy trail of fading darkness that ended in the corner among the shadows that pooled there.

So this is how I wrote twenty years ago. Can you say purple? I knew that you could. Talk about tortured sentences. I mean, “. . . my sleep-numbed mind began the rigorous ascent to consciousness” is, uh, well, one way of saying “I woke up,” and probably not a good one. The other issue is that I’m aping the voice of writers I was reading at the time, such as Jack Vance and Robert E. Howard, who are very wordy. For the record, there’s nothing wrong with writing Vancian science fiction or Howardian sword & sorcery, but it’s important to have your own voice while playing in the literary sandboxes of those authors. I was obviously struggling with that.

So what about the raw readability numbers for this passage? Have a look.

  • Passive Sentences: 0%
  • Flesch Reading Ease: 53.5
  • Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level: 13.4

No passive sentences is great, but, oof, those readability scores are off the charts, in the wrong direction. You’ll find very little popular fiction this dense and wordy. Most of that is going to have reading ease scores between 65 and 90 and grade level score between 4 and 9, with most of it being in the middle of those two ranges. For actual literary comparison, you’d have to look at the writers like H. P. Lovecraft and other pulp fiction and turn-of-the-century authors. In other words, not many folks write like this anymore, and those that do it successfully do it way better than this.

Okay, let’s jump ahead a bit and see if a few years taught me anything.

“Rearview” (circa 2005 A.D.)

This next passage is from a 3,500-word story called “Rearview” that I wrote in 2005.  The difference between this one and “Lullaby” is I actually submitted this one. I’ll tell you how that turned out after you read the passage.

Jacob first noticed the object at midnight, a small luminous shape hovering silently in the center of his rearview mirror. It lacked any real substance or definition and called to mind the infamous unidentified objects, the “foo fighters,” that military pilots sometimes encountered over lonely stretches of the Pacific Ocean. Jacob struggled to discern the distance that separated him and his unidentified pursuer, but the isolated section of Interstate 5 cut through the featureless Nevada desert in a straight and unwavering path, making such a judgment nearly impossible. The object was the only thing he had encountered for most of a very dark and moonless night. The gloom receded, somewhat reluctantly it seemed, from the twin glow of his Mustang’s headlights, but beyond this splash of yellow illumination Jacob felt the ominous weight of a truly stygian darkness.

Despite the eerie atmosphere, Jacob felt nothing more than a mild curiosity regarding the object in his mirror, dismissing it as the monocular glow of a motorcycle’s single headlight or something equally harmless. The fact it had stayed with him – neither receding nor gaining ground – also didn’t concern him. The motorcycle, or perhaps it was a car missing a headlight, was likely traveling at the same speed he was, allowing the distance between them to remain a constant. Jacob was traveling at seventy-five miles per hour, trying to keep a tight rein on his notoriously leaden foot. Despite his caution, Jacob could not bring himself to drive the speed limit, figuring ten mile-per-hour over wouldn’t tempt any Nevada Highway Patrol he might run afoul of.

Uh, yeah, not better, and, honestly, a little worse. It just so wordy, and, I mean, how many adjectives do you need in one paragraph? The answer is less than this. I really did a bang-up job making that second paragraph sound like a complex math problem too. Hey, and how about the term “monocular glow”? Yeesh.

Anyway, let’s check the numbers and see if it’s more readable than my 2000 story.

  • Passive Sentences: 0%
  • Flesch Reading Ease: 37.9
  • Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level: 14.4

Ye gods, that is dense. Folks, the only things with readability scores this low are like technical manuals and, well, H. P. Lovecraft again. This is not an improvement. I’m still trying to sound like the writers I’m reading (and not doing a great job of it), and I don’t have a clear voice. Like “Lullaby,” there is a decent story in all this mess, but it would need a complete rewrite.

As I said, I did actually send this one out for submission, and if you’d like to see how that turned out, check out the post Baby’s First Rejection. 🙂


So those are my first attempts at writing fiction. In the next post, we’ll look at some of my work that was actually published in the late aughts, and see if things improved at all. Thoughts or opinions on these passages? Let me know in the comments.

Submissions: The Genre Wasteland

I have often lamented the lack of paying horror markets on this blog, and while I certainly wish there were more paying publishers for horror, I’ve still got it pretty good compared to writers in other genres. You see, I’ve recently been dabbling in crime (not so much mystery) and action/adventure, and, wow, the number of paying markets for those genres is, well, thin would be an understatement. Let me illustrate.

Note, all numbers are from Duotrope (because it’s the service I use), and these are markets currently accepting submissions.

First, let me give you a quick look at the horror market landscape for comparison (which I consider to be the smallest of the big three speculative genres).

  • Pro Markets – 7
  • Semi-Pro Markets – 10
  • Token Markets – 34

This doesn’t look too bad until you compare it to sci-fi and fantasy, where the number of paying markets, especially pro-paying markets, jumps considerably. Last I checked, there were 21 pro markets for sci-fi and 20 for fantasy (though, there’s some overlap). If you get into semi-pro or token, then you have dozens and dozens of markets to choose from. Yes, you can do horror sci-fi and dark fantasy and hit some of those sci-fi and fantasy markets I mentioned, but for pure horror, pickings are still pretty slim.

So, what about those other genres I mentioned? Let’s look at mystery/crime first.

  • Pro Markets – 6
  • Semi-Pro Markets – 6
  • Token Markets – 7

There are really just two big pro mystery/crime markets, and they take just about everything that relates to the genre (I’m sure most of you can guess which two I’m talking about). The other pro markets are either anthologies or markets for middle-grade stories. The semi-pro choices are more of the same, though on further research I’ve found many of these markets are specifically looking for mystery stories (from cozy to hard-boiled) and not so much crime.

Okay, now let’s look at action/adventure.

  • Pro Markets – 5*
  • Semi-Pro Markets – 1
  • Token – 3

You see that asterix next to the number of pro markets? I put that there because everyone of these markets is for middle-grade and below. Yep, there isn’t a single pro-paying action/adventure market for adults. That single semi-pro is the one paying adult market that specifically asks for action/adventure. The token markets? One adult, and two for kids. Pretty depressing, huh? Makes me glad I haven’t dabbled in westerns (there is literally ONE paying market for westerns in all of Duotrope).

Those are the facts, but this isn’t just a big ol’ complaint post. There are solutions. So what can I do with my crime and action/adventure stories?

  1. Work with what you got. With the crime stories, specifically, there are enough markets I can take a shot at what’s out there. Like I do with other genres, I’ll submit to the top markets and work my way down.
  2. Phone a friend. Luckily, I know a few very good and prolific mystery/crime authors who pointed me in the direction of markets I hadn’t heard of and that aren’t listed on Duotrope. That’s been helpful and educational.
  3. Make a few changes. For the crime stories, if I add more of a mystery element, it’ll open up a lot of new markets for me. I could also add speculative elements that would open up that huge swath of sci-fi/fantasy markets. For the action/adventure story, a change is pretty much a necessity if I want to sell it. The easiest thing to do would be to add supernatural horror and turn my historical pirate actioner into a historical horror actioner. 🙂

Thoughts on these two genres? Something I missed? Or if you have a market recommendation for either genre, please let me know in the comments.