This week I was only able to sub 5 stories and received 2 rejections.
Was hoping for more rejections this week so I could turn more stories around. Though, an acceptance would have been nicer.
Markets are still slim. Wish there were more crime markets that paid well.
The sci-fi/ya short I have been working on this week is now at 4,400 words, tentatively called The Creative. Bland I know, but I still have some more words. I should finish the draft tomorrow morning. I’ll think of something better. I already have some notes for a second draft. Also I want to keep it under 5k but if it goes over I’m not too worried considering the genre it’s in. Sci-fi markets seem to take higher word counts and also pay higher rates.
So yes, things that piss me off. I’ll keep this short.
One, markets that make you pay to submit your work. Many lit based markets, think University, want to charge you a fee so they will consider you short story for acceptance of their journal. I do have some lit stories that I push around and often run into these markets.
Also there is another type that will not read your submission unless you are a subscriber to their magazine. (No, this is not the market that says read a FREE issue before you submit to get a feel of what we like. They want you to pay to subscribe before submitting.) For fear that you will not know what they want to publish. For these people don’t have time to write guidelines to explain themselves. Or have SO many submissions from SO many subscribers to read. I don’t know.
All I know that they are both capitalist scum fucks that want the writer’s money or lazy, greedy basterds and you should stay away from them
Two, I have social anxiety disorder and Asperger’s. On one hand I’m compelled to stay away from people because I have things going on in my head to take care of. On the other I just don’t want to deal with people. But I still want to socialize when I’m in the mood.
When I do no one ever meets up with me. Not talking about strangers. Talking about neighbors, people I live with for the last ten years. They give me scripted talk and move on. I know nothing personal about them. So freaky and weird. This sounds familiar. I mentioned something like this before. But you know what I mean. I want to reach out and I’m the one on drugs for depression. But no one else wants to take the time. They’re in their own little world. I guess they’re Aspies too?