Publishing questions

5 February 2010 | 2 Comments

From a reader through talk to me:

Are there any concerns involved in posting one’s writing works on a blog? For example, would publishers be less inclined to pay if a work, say a short story, or a novel draft, was already publicly available on the internet? What about after you get published, what control do you have over how you may distribute your writing outside of your publisher? What other rights issues are involved? I figured you might be able to answer me since you’ve posted some of both your published and unpublished work on this site.

Thank you! I am a great admirer of your work.

And thank you for your patience!

The answer is, maybe. It depends. (Don’t you hate that kind of answer?) If you’ve published an entire novel on your website and have had very few visitors, most print publishers won’t see that as a threat to their market: but they may wonder if there is a market for your book at all. If you have thousands of visitors, the publisher may assume you’ve already reached your audience — but clearly there is an audience for your book, and perhaps that audience can be expanded either for this book, or your next one.

Short stories are more problematic. If I had posted a short story on my website before publishing it in a professional market (online or print), I would make certain the editor knew it: and I think the editor might regard the story as “used” rather than “new,” But again, it depends on the individual editor, the overall market, and what kind of traffic you get.

I can’t speak for publishers or editors. I can only speak from my perspective. But I can also call upon Great and Powerful Resources for you (grin): here’s a blog post on this topic from Moonrat at Editorial Ass, who is an actual Publishing Person and has informed opinions. Make sure to read the comment conversation as well for more discussion. (And follow her blog: she’ll give you lots of insight into publishing and editing).

As far as rights after publication, that depends entirely on your contract for the story or novel. The publisher will generally take exclusive rights for first print publication in some form (English/North America; world English; first serial rights for short fiction; etc.) During that time, you may not publish the work in its entirety with anyone else, although generally everyone agrees that it’s a good thing to post a sample chapter or a story on your website, or the publisher’s website, and to possibly serialize the first bits of the book to bring readers in.

When you sell a short story to an online or print magazine, you generally sell one-time rights. When you sell to an anthology, you generally sell world rights and hope the anthology will be translated into a zillion languages. In all cases, after the story has been out a certain amount of time, you will have the right to re-sell it to other markets (reprint rights). And the right to post it on your own website, as many writers do.

The publisher will always take some form of electronic rights and you will get them back when hell freezes over.

I never publish sold work on my website without either having the rights myself or negotiating clearly with the publisher (as in the case of my stories that appear both in Dangerous Space and on this site). The only time I publish unsold work here is when I’ve decided that it is unsaleable. That may change as the overall publishing model changes, but for now it’s how I work.

A lot of writers blog work-in-progress because they just can’t wait for readers; just can’t wait for people to see their work. But unless the writer is an established writer posting work-in-progress for a specific reason (writers do this to raise money for themselves or others, for example), then I don’t see a lot of point. Posting work without a) an audience already in place, and b) a skilled hand at the writing wheel, seems to me to be wholly driven by impatience: I can’t wait, I want people to love my work right now!

I get what that feels like. I am sometimes so impatient this way that I think my head will explode. But writing doesn’t get better just because it’s in public. It’s either good enough, or it isn’t. If your goal is to see your name on a story online, or a print book, then self-publish it. If your goal is to be professionally published (as it is still currently defined, although we all know it’s becoming a moving target), then do what pros do: keep your work to yourself until it’s really ready, and then go out and sell it.

That’s my two cents. To the reader who sent this question, let me know if I’ve answered it fully for you. To everyone else: mileage varies enormously in this area, and different opinions are welcome in the conversation.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, writing 

Small Beer Press will reprint Solitaire

25 January 2010 | 10 Comments

I am happy-dancing thrilled that Small Beer Press will publish a reprint edition of Solitaire early next year.

Those who know Small Beer will understand why I’m so happy: Gavin Grant and Kelly Link have built a wonderful, writer-friendly business, a high-powered critical reputation, and a list of books for readers of all ages and persuasions whose common connection is a love of story. I’ve known them for a long time (sf isn’t a very big club, really), and have long wanted a chance to work with them. I’m honored by their support of Solitaire (which, for those who know the SB imprints, is coming out as a Small Beer book, not a Peapod Classic).

Want to know more? Check out Small Beer on Facebook and their most excellent blog.

So: a new edition, a new cover, and a new phase of life for Solitaire. I’m delighted. Tonight I’ll drink a large beer to Small Beer (grin): for now, I think I’ll go have another cup of tea.

Enjoy your day.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, writing 

Sharing

29 December 2009 | Comments Off

Saw your Write-o-Rama post. Great talking to you and fun class. Thought I’d share the results of our class exercise.

Thank you for sharing!

I really enjoyed the class, and I like what you wrote, especially how you’ve captured the way that people break off in the middle of important moments to eat bread or pour beer; and the way we use these things sometimes to gather our thoughts, or to express them.

And as I told you that day, I very much enjoy Heidi, Geek Girl Detective!

Thanks for helping make my day at Hugo House a lot of fun.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, talk to me, writing 

Clarion West

21 December 2009 | 6 Comments

I’ve talked here many times about the Clarion West Writers Workshop, and today I’m delighted to announce that I will serve as Board Chair of Clarion West in 2010.

This is a happy thing for me. I believe Clarion West is the best workshop for emerging professional speculative fiction writers in the world, and I’m enormously honored to have this chance to serve, protect, sustain and love it. It won’t be hard: it’s a great organization that has been beautifully managed for years, with a wide community of volunteers, alumni, donors and supporters who feel the same deep connection to the workshop that I do. And I’m especially pleased to be working with award-winning writer (and wonderfully cool person) Kij Johnson as Vice Chair: Kij will take the Chair position in 2011.

I don’t think there’s any other organization I’d agree to do this work for right now: I’m busy, you know. But Clarion West makes a difference in the lives of writers, and that’s important to me. I hope you’ll be excited for me, and consider making Clarion West a part of your giving plan for 2010. You’ll be helping writers; and who knows what kind of wonderful stories they will make thanks to your support?

From the December 2009 Clarion West newsletter:
 
I’m honored and excited to be the incoming Chair of Clarion West.
 
I’ve been involved with Clarion West for many years. Wearing my writer hat, I’ve been a donor, submissions reader, party host, and workshop instructor. I’ve put on my business hat a time or two to provide organizational consulting to the board. Now I’m delighted to bring all the parts of me — storyteller, collaborative leader, teacher, a person who believes in the power of writing — to serve as Chair for 2010.
 
I’ve committed to Clarion West because I know it works. I was a student at Clarion in Michigan in 1988, and in six grueling, terrifying, exhilarating weeks, the workshop changed my life. I learned that I could write, and how to write better. I met my partner, novelist Nicola Griffith. I wrote what would become my first published story. Clarion was my gateway to the writing life and to the vibrant, diverse community of science fiction writers, readers, artists, teachers, editors and publishers; after more than 20 years, I’m still thrilled to be here.
 
Writing matters. Stories and books entertain, comfort, inspire and sustain us. Sometimes they change our minds. Sometimes they change our lives. Supporting the growth of emerging professional writers is one of the best ways I know to make sure that that keeps happening. I’ve never found a workshop that does it better than Clarion West.
 
As a writer, I’m focused on keeping Clarion West a successful and transformative experience for writers. As a leader, I’m committed to maintaining the solid, stable organization that has been built by the hard work of so many people, including the immeasurable contributions of Kate Schaefer, Outgoing Development Director (whom we will all miss enormously), and Deborah and Eileen (who I’m grateful will remain with the board ).
 
I’m proud to join a team of brilliant workshop administrators; board members with excellent financial management, communication, and strategic skills; volunteers who make hard work look easy and make so many things possible for Clarion West; and a national and international community of graduates, instructors, donors, and supporters who sustain us. Thank you all for everything you do, and for allowing me to be a part of it. I’m looking forward to 2010.
 
– Kelley Eskridge

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, writing 

Seattle class now open for registration

9 December 2009 | Comments Off

My winter class on writing short fiction is now open for registration (and scholarship applications) at Hugo House. I hope many Seattle writers will join this or one of the many other great classes (from one day to six weeks) in the winter catalog.

Come enjoy the company of other writers and the fun of learning and practicing the skills of short fiction. Writing is fun! Let’s have some.

The Whole Story
 
All good stories – those that delight or thrill you, make you laugh or cry — are built from the same fundamental blocks. We’ll explore essential elements of good short fiction: structure, point of view, plotting, character development, description and dialogue. You’ll learn practical techniques like specificity, emotional language, anchor points and narrative grammar that you can use immediately. The class will be a mix of reading, discussion, and writing, as well as an hour-long individual conference with the instructor.
 
Instructor: Kelley Eskridge
Meets: Wednesday, January 27, 2010 – Wednesday, March 03, 2010
Wednesday, 4:00 PM to 6:00 PM
Max: 15 students
General: $230.00, Members: $207.00
(Some tuition assistance may be available.)

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, writing 

Just for fun

7 December 2009 | 7 Comments

Saturday I had the pleasure of teaching two mini-workshops on dialogue at Hugo House as part of their Write-O-Rama fundraiser. I’m delighted that they met their fundraising goal (and more) — one more thing to love about Seattle is how many established and aspiring writers will turn up to support their community.

And oh my word, the energy! For 35 minutes each hour, everyone wrote wrote wrote. No real noise in the working spaces except the tap tap of laptop keys or the scratch of pen on paper. And breathing. I don’t often get to watch other people write, you know? It’s mostly a private activity. Fascinating to see how still people become, how focused, how intent. Many times, their faces lose all expression except a certain sense of inward distance in the eyes, so you know they are looking at the paper or the screen but seeing some glimmer of another world that is beginning to live inside them.

I imagine that’s how I mostly looked too, because in both sessions I did the exercise along with everyone else.

It was absolute pure fun. Marvelous to simply write well because I can, to let my expertise off the leash to run not because I have a contract, or a deadline, or a particular “goal,” but just for the joy of it. And there’s no denying that for me doing it well is a big part of that joy: all my years of work and practice have paid off in this way, that writing is sometimes nothing more than, I don’t know, some kind of extreme sport or something. That’s not such a bad analogy — because these days the writing channel is wide open, and so even an exercise draws from deep places. And yesterday’s writing felt like a precision run at speed down a gentle slope: not challenging in terms of the course, but a chance to see what kind of chops I have these days to just make something up and bring it alive in half an hour in a room with strangers.

I thought I might share this newest writing with you, just for… well, for fun. Genuine first draft, presented here exactly as it was when I put the pen down each time yesterday (although, oh, the urge to edit…)

The mini-workshop was about how to help convey emotional truth through the specific behaviors that accompany what we say, and that sometimes carry the real meaning of the moment. I’ve turned my teaching notes into a post and exercise over at Sterling Editing for anyone who is interested in learning a little more about this. And here’s the exercise:

Write a scene in which two people are having a meal together in a restaurant, being served by a third person. The conversation of the two becomes a breakup. Decide what kind of restaurant they are in, and what kind of breakup this is (lovers, partners, spouses, business partners, friends, etc.). Write from any point of view.
 
The goal is not necessarily to finish the scene, but rather to take the time to live in each moment, find the emotional truth, and then decide whether the characters’ words speak for themselves, or if you need to find a specific behavior to help convey the meaning.

And here are a couple of servings of stories that may or may not ever live on paper again. Who knows?

Enjoy.

     Lily was already waiting when Cal got to Beth’s Cafe. Cal stood in the door to kick the snow off her shoes and watched Lily carefully line up the fork, knife and spoon precisely spaced on the paper napkin.
     Uh oh, Cal thought.
     From his place at the grill, Joey gave her a sympathetic look. She nodded, squared herself, walked to Lily. Lily sat up very straight as Cal approached.
     Houston brought the coffepot and menus. “Not very hungry,” Cal said, and cuddled the warm coffee cup as if it could warm everything: the weather, the chill in the booth, the cold hard lump in her gut.
     She sipped so she would not have to speak.
     ”How are you?” Lily finally said.
     ”Fine,” said Cal.
     She took another sip. Lily began to organize condiments.
     Cal said, “Look, I’m sorry. Really. I should have been there.”
     Lily nodded as she lined up the salt and pepper.
     ”I really am sorry,” Cal said again, and she felt the quaver in her voice ripple all the way down to her hands, so that the cup clattered when she put it back down on its saucer.
     Lily looked at the cup, and then at Cal. Then she gave Cal a smile; only a little one, but it was like the sun peeking out of the fog. The room got a little brighter.
     Houston came back around. “You girls want anything to eat?”
     ”Make it up to me with a 12-egg western omelet,” Lily said.
     ”Oh, Lil,” Cal said. Lily pursed her eyebrows and huffed a little through her nose; a wordless It figures, sure, let’s not have what I want.

     ”What’s your name, little sister?” Johnny said to the waitress. Lars could see why: she wore her body in a way that made you imagine tattoos and piercings underneath the uniform, and her expression was cold.
     ”Her name is Star,” Lars said. “It’s on her uniform.” He knew he sounded sour and it made him feel small and desperate. “Great name,” he said.
     The waitress gave him a knowing look.
     ”French, thousand island, blue cheese or creamy garlic,” she said.
     ”I would always rather have something creamy,” Johnny said.
     Lars sighed. The waitress’ face didn’t change expression, but she walked away with a straighter back and a little more swing in her hips.
     Johnny settled back in his chair. “So,” he said, with a smile that was — creamy, damn it, Lars thought, a fucking creamy smile that made him want to reach a hand across the table and either strangle Johnny or drag him over for a kiss.
     ”So,” Johnny said, “where would you like to go today?” He took a long sip of his iced tea and then wiped the moisture away with a drag of his beautiful wrist across his beautiful mouth. He never took his gaze from Lars.
     ”You’re busy,” Lars said.
     ”No, no. You came from LA. In a car,” Johnny added, as if it were a strange, amusing choice. “You didn’t come all this way just for iced tea and a tuna melt with fries.”
     Lars reached for his glass and drank some of the tea. It gave him an excuse to look at the table. All those miles: across the mountains in the rain, the flat tire at 10 pm and the near-death experience with a trailer full of pigs. To sit in a diner with the air conditioning too high and a man who had none of the warmth that Lars remembered.
     ”I shouldn’t have just shown up,” he said.
     ”Well. You’re here now. So where do you want to go?”
     Lars thought, I need to do this fast

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, writing 

The (re)writing life

3 November 2009 | 2 Comments

I’ve just posted some ideas about rewriting over at Sterling Editing.

Yes, you in the back of the room, I did rewrite it before I posted it (grin). I rewrite everything, even mail. Because that makes it better and besides, I get brownie points in Writer’s Paradise, a lovely place where writers are always appropriately paid, beautifully marketed, and never have to buy their own drinks again. I hope to visit there someday…

… but today is not that day. Today I just get to be a writer, editor, sweetie, person alive on the planet. And you know what? Apart from the pay and the PR and the ever-flowing champagne, it pretty much is paradise to me.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, writing 

Over at Sterling Editing…

13 October 2009 | 6 Comments

More busy-ness for Sterling Editing — a new editcast on dialogue. These are fun to do (and those of you who read here regularly may enjoy imagining how much of a challenge it is for me to stay in a 5-minute limit…)

And don’t miss Nicola’s post about “Dialogue Don’ts” which includes perhaps the absolute worst writing she has ever done (as an example of bad dialogue). If you’re feeling creative, join the conversation and improve her work (grin).

Sterling is taking a lot of my time and focus right now, and I’m sorry for the resulting absence of me here these last weeks. But for what it’s worth, I’m having a marvelous time. It’s so exciting, this confluence of writing, editing, working with Nicola, using business skills, supporting and helping people… as if all the major rivers of my life are running together, fast and deep.

It’s good. And thanks for your patience. I’ll be back soon.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, writing 

I believe

28 September 2009 | 5 Comments

This is cheating a bit (in blog terms) because I posted this quote over at Sterling Editing last week. But not everyone may visit there; and the SE blog is very much focused on helping or inspiring writers. It focuses out. Here in my little personal corner of the internet, it can just be about me if I like…

… and today I do.

Here’s what Robert McKee has to say about the love it takes to write well. It speaks to me because I think it speaks about me. I recognize myself.

The love of story — the belief that your vision can be expressed only through story, that characters can be more “real” than people, that the fictional world is more profound than the concrete. The love of the dramatic — a fascination with the sudden surprises and revelations that bring sea-changes in life. The love of truth — the belief that lies cripple the artist, that every truth in life must be questioned, down to one’s own secret motives. The love of humanity — a willingness to empathize with suffering souls, to crawl inside their skins and see the world through their eyes. The love of sensation — the desire to indulge not only the physical but the inner senses. The love of dreaming — the pleasure in taking leisurely rides on your imagination just to see where it leads. The love of humor — a joy in the saving grace that restores the balance of life. The love of language — the delight in sound and sense, syntax and semantics. The love of duality — a feel for life’s hidden contradictions, a healthy suspicion that things are not what they seem. The love of perfection — the passion to write and rewrite in pursuit of the perfect moment. The love of uniqueness — the thrill of audacity and a stone-faced calm when it is met by ridicule. The love of beauty — an innate sense that treasures good writing, hates bad writing, and knows the difference. The love of self — a strength that doesn’t need to be constantly reassured, that never doubts that you are indeed a writer. You must love to write and bear the loneliness.
 
But the love of a good story, of terrific characters and a world driven by your passion, courage, and creative gifts is still not enough. Your goal must be a good story well told.
 
– Robert McKee, from Story

Reading these sentences makes me feel like a little girl again, wide-eyed in a dark movie theatre on a hot Florida summer afternoon, clapping my hands until they hurt so that Tinkerbelle wouldn’t die: calling out I believe, I believe! And still I am calling. I believe in the heightened life of the imagination, and I believe in bringing as much of that same joy as I can to my everyday life; to this moment as I write about love and story with the taste of tea in my mouth and outside the wind blowing, autumn clouds racing across they sky so it turns blue to gray to blue again, and the rowan tree sags with red berries and little puffball birds, and it’s just beautiful, you know? It’s so beautiful.

It’s beautiful that way inside my head too, in that other life where the only one in the theatre is me, where all the stories are powerful, strong, strange, wild. They roll through me like autumn clouds. The wind blows.

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, quotes, writing 

Read 4 pages of the new Stephen King

27 September 2009 | 11 Comments

Here’s a little taste of Stephen King’s new novel Under the Dome, coming in November.

Happy happy happy!

Posted by Kelley | Filed Under blog, writing 

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