Rants

3-D Can Go To 3-Hell

I haven't done a good rant in awhile, so here goes: Hollywood, for the love of God, stop making 3-D movies just for the hell of it! Sure, some films are meant to be seen in 3-D, like Avatar. Regardless how you feel about the film, it really is a visual masterpiece when seen in 3-D, because it was made to be seen in 3-D. But then you have other movies that studios decide to make 3-D just because.

Greed is a major factor, of course, as the cost of each movie ticket increases for these stupid 3-D shows, where you're forced to wear those awfully uncomfortable plastic and flimsy glasses (which is really pain for someone who already wears glasses), and for what exactly? So that when the pitcher throws a fast ball it comes right at the viewer's head?

And because 3-D movies seem to be making a resurge, studios think they might as well make everything 3-D. Apparently the next Alvin and the Chipmunks will be in 3-D because, you know, the world not only needs a third Chipmunks movie but the annoying rodents must also look like they're walking out of the screen.

Are the studios to blame for this recent phenomenon? Yes and no. They started it initially, but then moviegoers were stupid enough to buy a bunch of tickets and so the studios figured what the hell, we'll just keep making more of this crap, and so they do.

Again, I have no issues with movies that are 3-D when they're supposed to be 3-D, but making a film 3-D just for the hell of it is pointless and stupid. And, guess what, it just gets better and better:

Remember The Life of Pi? It’s been seven years since Fox 2000’s Elizabeth Gabler acquired the rights to Canadian Yann Martel’s Booker prize-winning 2001 global bestseller about a boy adrift in a lifeboat in the Pacific with a Bengal tiger. What’s taking so long? Well, this kind of lyrical literary material is tricky to get right. M. Night Shyamalan fell out. So did Alfonso Cuaron and Jean-Pierre Jeunet. Finally, it may get made thanks to Ang Lee—and 3-D.

I was never a huge fan of the book to begin with -- yeah, okay, it's a story about a boy on a book with a tiger, blah blah blah -- but the book was a big success so a movie version was inevitable.

But 3-D?

Come on, Hollywood, just give it a rest already. I'm begging you.

*****

Reminder that you have until tomorrow at midnight to enter the Hint Fiction Contest. Already more than 230 stories have been submitted, which is more than last year. Keep 'em coming!

Reminder: Money Flows To The Writer

An (Imagined) Overheard Conversation Between Two People, Many, Many Years Ago “So I’m thinking we should start a literary journal.”

“Why? There are already so many.”

“Ours will be better.”

“How?”

“For starters, we’ll make it exclusively online.”

“You mean the World Wide Web? I don’t know. I really can’t see that whole thing taking off. Like I told you, we need to invest in laser discs.”

“Think about it. This online journal would be ... respected.”

“How so?”

“We’ll publish really big-name writers.”

“But we don’t have any money. Those writers will probably want money. A lot of money.”

“Don’t worry. I have that covered.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask how.”

“Contests.”

“What?”

“We'll host contests. Make the writers pay an entry fee. Use a percentage of that to pay our costs.”

“Okay, but how many contests do you plan on having? We can’t have too many.”

“Good point. Then … how about we just make the writers pay an entry fee for regular submissions.”

“You’re crazy.”

“No, seriously, hear me out on this. We have the big-name writers to draw them in, and we’ll offer a sizable payment, but for the writers to submit, they have to pay a fee. Something like -- ”

“Five bucks?”

“I was thinking maybe fifty bucks.”

“You are crazy.”

“Fine, how about thirty bucks.”

“Still crazy.”

“Listen, it will work. And the best part is, the crappy writers who have no chance of ever getting published will more or less help us pay the big-name writers to keep drawing in those crappy writers. It’s a win-win situation.”

“You really think writers will fall for that?”

“Of course. Writers are stupid.”

***

An old adage is that money flows to the writer. What does this mean, exactly? Well, it means whatever you want it to mean. Some think that it means they shouldn't submit to markets that don't pay them. Others think they shouldn't submit to markets that pay only half a cent a word or less. Still others think it means they should never enter contests that require a monetary fee.

A few weeks back Nick Mamatas did this eloquent post about the different markets for short stories. The breakdown is basically how people in the different genres view things. In literary circles, there's nothing wrong with submitting to journals that pay only copies, as those journals are oftentimes highly regarded. In the horror/sf field, however, journals that pay only copies or (if online) exposure are looked down upon considerably. I blame outfits like the HWA and SFWA for this line of thought. Just because a market pays 5 cents a word does not necessarily make it a "pro" magazine. Take, for example, my rant awhile back on a particular magazine that, while paying 5 cents a word, has a hideous website and apparently takes about three years to reply to some of their submissions. As far as I'm concerned, they can keep their 5 cents.

But what about contests? I've never seen anything wrong with submitting to them. Only there are a lot of contests out there, and you can't submit to every one ... unless you're a millionaire and don't mind paying out ten or twenty bucks a pop. Plus, some journals' contests offer a one-year subscription with the entry fee, or an issue, or at least something the writer gets in return, which is nice, though there is the argument that they do it just so they can get their subscription numbers up. Whatever. The point is if you are going to submit to a contest that makes you pay some kind of entry fee, make sure your story is the very best it can be (which you should do every time you submit anywhere, of course, but this time around you are laying down hard-earned cash, so be certain you know that particular market well).

So in that case, some money is flowing away from the writer, but if that writer is able to place in the contest, a lot of money is coming back to him or her. Or not. That's just the game. You never know.

Now what about just a regular magazine? No contest or anything. They pay extremely well, and they are "highly regarded." Catch is, you have to pay an entry fee to submit to them. How much, you ask. Well, first let's talk about American Short Fiction. They are indeed a "highly regarded" journal. But to submit to them, they require a fee of $2.00. Okay, that's kind of cheesy, but as one person pointed out to me recently, that's about how much it would cost to mail a story to them via the post, so it sort of evens out. Okay, I can see that. Makes sense to me. And really, when you think about it, $2.00 isn't that much.

So how much is too much?

How about -- and this number is right off the top of my head -- $20.00?

If you're thinking nobody would be insane enough to pay that, you would be wrong. There's this journal named Narrative, you see. There are "the leading online publisher of first-rank fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. A nonprofit organization, Narrative is dedicated to advancing the literary arts in the digital age by supporting the finest writing talent and encouraging readership around the world and across generations. Our online library of new literature by celebrated authors and by the best new and emerging writers is available for free."

As the Church Lady would say, Well isn't that special.

Thing is, to submit to this wonderful journal, it will cost you exactly 20 bones. Don't believe me, check out their guidelines. Be careful, though. If you sign up for an account, you automatically get put on their mailing list. I apparently did this a long time ago (I think I may have submitted to one of their contests), because I keep getting e-mails from them. And when you click on that barely visible link to unsubscribe, it takes you to a page that doesn't really show you how to unsubscribe. So then you keep getting e-mails. Plus, according to this, they are even kind enough to sell their mailing list, so you can get even more e-mails about things you don't need. Isn't that nice of them?

Anyway, I love the Internet. Nothing can be kept from people anymore. Everyone has a Google Alert set up for their name or book or magazine, so when someone else writes about it, they know. This happens to me sometimes on Twitter. I'll make some random comment and someone somehow involved with whatever will respond. It's great. Here's what I tweeted last week:

Again, a random tweet. I do it all the time. Didn't even remember I did it until a few days later when I woke up to see a notification on my phone that someone had mentioned me:
Still half-asleep, I thought: Huh. Then I decided to retweet it for those interested:
Four minutes later, this showed up:
Another minute passed, and I became more awake. I thought: No no no no no. They are not getting away with it that easily. So I asked a simple question:
(You see, the National Endowment of the Arts recently awarded Narrative a grant worth $10,000. Again, as the Church Lady would say, Well isn't that special.)
Their response:
Apparently the person manning their Twitter account is five years old. I tried to simplify.
As you can see, ten minutes later ...
I waited, expecting more. None was forthcoming.
I went on Facebook and chatted with a writer friend. I mentioned the exchange. This particular friend is not a fan of the journal. Especially after they received the NEA grant. Not since the journal charges a ridiculous reading fee. I asked if this particular writer friend thought I should cause some trouble. My writer friend said, Go for it. So I went for it.

That was three days ago. There has been recent activity on their Twitter account since then. Seems I'm being ignored ... though, to be honest, it's really none of my business. Fact is, I don't really care about Narrative. They can charge writers as much as they want for a reading fee. If writers are dumb enough to keep paying it, whatever. Sure, they're a non-profit, and according to this, they're a non-profit that made over $200,000 in 2007. Makes me want to start a non-profit.

I'm sure people will defend them, just as I'm sure there will be people who will hate them. It's nothing new. It's happened before and it will happen again. Again, my stance is I don't care. Like I said, I made a random tweet and someone from Narrative took it upon themselves to respond. Not only that, the response was an attempt to justify an obscene cost to each and every writer ... unless you're very well known; that's still up in the air whether you have to pay a fee then. See, my issue is, if you're going to steal from people, acknowledge it. Don't try to act like it's okay, because it's not.

So what have we learned from all this? I don't know about you, but I've learned that I still cannot figure out a way to unsubscribe from their mailing list. Doesn't matter anyway, I guess. Even if I did figure it out, there's a good chance they've already sold my address to somebody else, which means I might as well save myself the time and energy and delete my e-mail account and create a new one.

Thanks, Narrative. You're the best.

Another One Bites The Dust, Or The Downside To Guerrilla Marketing

I'm not even 30 yet, and I'm becoming a grumpy old man. Facebook is mostly to blame, I think.

If you happen to be on Facebook, you know just how aggravating it can be at times. Sure, it's nice to see what your friends and colleagues are doing, staying in touch with friends you've met online and might not actually ever meet in person.

But then you have the spammers.

Only they're not really spammers, at least in the traditional sense of the word. If you're a writer and you have a lot of writer friends on Facebook, you know exactly what I mean. These are the people who seem to think success is dictated by just how many "friends" they have, or how many people have become "fans" of their work. Or if we're talking the world of Twitter, success for them is how many followers they have.

I don't mind when people pimp their stuff on Facebook. It's expected. But when pimping is all they do, each and every day, it becomes rather redundant. The first writer I ended up hiding was someone who constantly updated their status asking people to go check out his story at such-and-such a place. It was a bit much, but when he had a status that said something along the lines that his grandmother had just passed away and he had written a poem about her and would love for everyone to read it, I felt enough was enough (and no, I'm not exaggerating about that at all -- this writer really posted that).

But the constant status updates begging people to read their work or buy their books is one thing.

Receiving constant event or fan invitations is another.

The way Facebook is set up (at least the way I find it set up) is that the very first time someone sends you an invitation for anything, there is an option to ignore all future invites from that friend. If you don't click on that, then you're screwed. As far as I can tell, there's no way to get it back, so what happens is that particular friend is now free to keep bombarding you with invitations for things you probably have never heard of nor care to ever learn anything about.

I've found that certain writers are the worst at this. Almost every other day I would receive an invitation to become someone's "fan." Again, it's that sad idea that the more "friends" and "fans" they have, the more successful they are. Keep in mind I'm not faulting them completely. I know how hard it is for a writer or for any artist to get their work looked at. As writers we all want to be read, but the problem is finding readers to read our work. So we put our work out there, hoping people will read it and like it enough to search out more of our work ... or we bombard the readers with our work, hoping to wear them down to the point that they have no choice but to relent and learn to like us.

A few weeks back I kept getting invitations from a particular "friend" to become a fan of a particular journal. I kept ignoring them. This particular "friend" kept sending them. Finally I'd had enough. I decided to "unfriend" (the word of the year, didn't you know) this person, but first wanted to make sure that they knew they were being unfriended, and why. So like a jerk I tagged them in my update status that I was happy to have unfriended so-and-so for sending an obscene amount of fan invites in a short amount of time.

Later that night I received this private message from the person:

Since you tagged me in a note and then unfriended me so I couldn't read it, I'm assuming you're talking about me and my journal.

I figured since you friended me in the first place (even though you've never met me), that you were a writer or interested in writing, as that is the vast majority of who my facebook friends are.

I thought you might be interested in my journal, XXXXXXX, as something to read or as a place to submit your work.

I'm sorry if my fanpage requests bothered you. I don't know if you know this, but facebook doesn't tell you when or if someone turns down an invitation; if I knew you weren't interested I wouldn't have sent the request. You could have written to me and I would have stopped sending.

Best wishes,

XXXXXXX

When I received this it was late Saturday night and I was out with some friends at a bar. I'd had a couple drinks, and I was pretty furious. Because see, I had never friended this person, just as I told them in this reply, tapping away at my phone, my thumbs frantic:

For starters, I never friended you. I know this for a fact because I don't even know you. When people send me friend requests and we have mutual friends I accept thinking it won't be a big deal. But then when you keep sending fan requests, it gets tiresome. My suggestion is when someone sends you a friend request, you send them a private message saying thanks and inviting them to become a fan of your journal. That way people who want to become a fan can become a fan without receiving countless requests.
Take care,

Robert

See, this person had over 1,000 friends -- something like 2,000 friends, I believe. Which, if you think about it, is a ridiculous amount. Sure, not if you're a really major author and a lot of people love your work and keep sending you friend requests, but if you are the one sending friend requests just to up the number of friends you have ... not so much. And this particular person was one of those, sending friend requests to anybody who would accept them, and then asking them to become a fan of their journal.

So what have we learned here? My time on Facebook might be coming to an end, as it's turning me into a grumpy old man (or rather grumpy young man). I've learned from now on though not to accept friend requests from people who already have over 1,000 friends. That's more than enough, and they don't need one more.

Again, I don't really fault these people. They're just trying to promote their work. Everyone is different, and everyone responds differently to things, but that constant in-your-face-marketing just isn't for me. Personally, it doesn't make me want to read your work. If anything, it makes me remember your name so that if I ever do pass by something you've written, I'll immediately skip over it.

But like I said, that's just me.

Yours truly,

GYM (grumpy young man)

New Twitterage & How Long Is Too Long?

Been quiet around here, I know, but that's because I've been extremely busy, what with this deadline for the anthology fast approaching. I've wanted to post a lot of stuff but just haven't found the time, so here I am at 4:30 in the morning wanting to share with you two things. First, I created a Twitter page strictly for Hint Fiction, because I know those interested in Hint Fiction might not want to follow me and hear my continuous babbling. When there's news to share about the anthology or whatever else, I will share it in both places, but at least with the Hint Fiction account it will be just Hint Fiction and nothing else. If you'd like to follow, please do so: @Hint_Fiction.

Second, I'm sure most people reading this blog are familiar with Duotrope. And if you're a writer and you're not familiar with Duotrope, fix that error immediately. Anyway, there's a lot of great stuff about the website, but the best is the "What's New" page, which lists new markets as well as recent response times. It's always interesting to see the wide variety of RTs reported, from 0 days to over 300 days (though note that it's not an exact science, as many writers don't even use the service). And in case you haven't heard yet, a 909 day rejection was just recently reported.

Yes, you heard that right -- 909 days.

That pretty much comes to two and a half years.

And the best part? The publication -- Dark Discoveries Magazine (be sure to check out their beautiful website) -- states on their submission guidelines "no simultaneous submissions."

My thoughts on simultaneous submissions are simple -- life's too short not to simultaneously submit. And if a magazine states in their guidelines that they don't want simultaneous submissions, then they should have reasonable response times -- somewhere between 30 and 60 days, I think, though the shorter the better.

I don't even know where the whole "no simultaneous submissions" thing first came from. It basically means the magazine wants exclusivity on your work. Which is another way of saying that they want to slack off and read your story whenever they damn well please, and there's nothing you can do about it but wait two years to hear back.

Personally, it's a big turn off for me when I see the response times of magazines being over a year. Even 100 days seems excessive.

Or am I being too fussy?

Let me ask you -- how long is too long?

Lazy Is As Lazy Does

Last week, during my week four anthology update, I mentioned how fascinating I'd found it that more than half the people visiting the Hint Fiction page didn't click on the contest winners and honorable mentions to get a better idea of the form. Then, in the comments, Jess mentioned how most of the writers she comes in contact with want to be spoon-fed. They want the easiest route possible. They want that instant gratification of seeing their name in print (or, as it is nowadays, online).

Has it really gotten to this point? I suppose it has. The Internet is to blame, of course. Now there are just so many outlets for writing. New "journals" are popping up every week. More and more writers are self-publishing. They find the route of trying to get an agent too difficult. They also find the route of trying to get a publisher to at least look at their manuscript too tiresome. So what is a poor writer to do? Why, self-publish, of course!

(A few years back I worked with a guy who had written this sort of nonfiction book. He immediately decided to self-publish it, and not only that, self-publish it with one of those places that charges an arm and a leg. I asked him why didn't he try getting an agent first, find a real publish. His response? "Why would I want some stranger sitting in an office, some person I don't even know, tell me my book's not good enough to be published?" Um, because that's their friggin job, dumbo. People just don't walk into a publishing house and sign up to be an editor; they start at the very bottom and work their way up. They know what they're doing. They know what sells. That's why they can sit in an office and tell you your book's not good enough.)

Anyway, as September is now upon us, that means most journals have reopened for submissions. Trolling around Duotrope, I saw Tin House was open and clicked on the link to their guidelines. And what did I see there?

I'm sure many of you know about Word Hustler by now. I'd heard about them in passing awhile back but never gave them much thought. As far as I cared, they were a scam, and as with most scams, I try not to give them the time of day.

For those aren't familiar with Word Hustler, basically it's a site that will submit your work to magazines -- for a fee. For the low, low price of $2.99, they will send out something under four pages (query letter or poetry submission). For $5.99, they will send out something under 20 pages (short stories, partial mss, articles, essays). It goes on and on.

Now I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, That's ridiculous! But wait, it gets even better. Because then they say:

All of our prices include tracking, postage, and free SASEs! And remember, our database of more than 5,000 literary markets is 100% free. So go on, check out our markets and put yourself on the path to publishing success, today!

Now what I find distressing is not so much the fact that a site like this exists (come on, people, it's the Internet, you're apt to find just about anything). What I find distressing -- outright fucking ridiculous, really -- is that enough writers are using this site to keep these people in business.

And why?

Is it really that inconvenient to submit to magazines? Yeah, okay, it takes up time, but so what? So does sitting in front of the TV for two hours watching shows you'll barely remember in a week. Personally, I don't enjoy printing out stories and cover letters, making up SASEs, printing up labels, taking them to the post office, but I do it. In fact, I don't even like e-mailing submissions or even using those nifty submission managers everyone seems to have nowadays (which are really really nice, actually), but I do it. Because I'm a writer, and I write things, and I would like to publish those things, and since publishers aren't going to come to me I have to go to them.

Look, if you want to use Word Hustler, be my guest. I'm sure there are writers who can rationalize using their services. For me, the whole experience -- the writing, the submitting, the rejecting, the accepting, the eventual publishing -- is what makes it all worth it in the end. If you haven't figured it out yet, I personally think using Word Hustler is a waste of money. Especially when magazines like Tin House have a link to their own submission manager in the paragraph right above the Word Hustler link (and I don't know about you, but I find it disappointing that Tin House even acknowledges them). If that's too much for you -- you know, uploading your own story for free -- then by all means, pay someone else to do it. After all, you're a writer, aren't you? You shouldn't be submitting to magazines. You should be writing.

But don't worry, my friends. One of these days a new website will come along, a site that will not only submit your stories for a fee, but will also write them. Won't that be great?

Yeah, sure, okay. Crazy thing is, if that site existed, people would probably use it.

Ah, the future of publishing.

I can't wait.

P.S. Anyone else catch the bad grammar in that demotivational poster?