Didn’t make the finals of The CWA Debut Dagger 2009 Contest sponsored by The Crime Writers’ Association in the UK. Disappointed? Yes I am because the fifty pages of WHAT CAME BEFORE seemed pretty good to me.

Of course, I wrote the dang novel and mine is a typical authorial response. It’s either adorations for one’s own work-in-progress or clear unadulterated loathing. But I don’t hate this novel. I love it and I’ve been back at work on it. There’s no reason I can’t get this sucker finished. None. Other than fear of finding out it is, after all, shit.

But I’ve learned to accept rejection as part of my personal scheme of things. I’m comfortable with rejection. I can deal beautifully with it. So does that mean I’m more comfortable with failure than success? Is it possible that there’s a deep groove in my programming that keeps me locked down when the prison gate is wide open? How can that be? Or is it just as simple as FEAR.

Is it the only thing that stands in my way of getting this novel ready for submission? I complain of daily distractions from my REAL life, but there’s only one reason I haven’t edited it, shaped it, laid in the good thematic, pay-off, symbolic stuff that’s in my head. FEAR. I have it in spades.

The question is, is it fear of failure…or success?

FOF

• No one will like it.
• I can’t sustain it.
• I’ll write myself in a corner, fall into an abyss, get lost in the maze, give up.
• I will offend African-Americans, Hispanics, the Japanese, and whites since it’s an LA story and has to be authentic.
• I will fail at authenticity.
• I will constantly repeat myself.
• I will write something so ridiculous that there will be a plethora of holes in walls throughout the world from readers hurtling my tome across the room.
• I will be embarassed and humiliated.
• I will be discovered as a phony, poseur, a pretender.
• People won’t read it. (Well, the main reason to date is no one will read it because it’s locked up in my computer while I’m busy taking naps and playing Spider Solitaire).
• I can’t write anything longer than 2000 words that will sustain interest.
• Basically, I suck.

But the novel’s not bad. Really. And I have to keep remembering my plan, a small step (or chapter) at a time.

What about FOS?

• If I succeed with one novel, I’ll never be able to write again.
• Everyone I know will think they’re in it.
• I’ll be sued and ridiculed.
• I won’t be able to get anything else done.
• I’ll fail at booksignings and have to replace everyone’s books because I’ve misspelled my own name.
• I’ll offend book sellers and fans because I suffer from foot-in-mouth disease.
• I’ll have to lose weight so I’ll look slick and successful and won’t get tired on book tours. (Ixnee on the an-pay akes-cay.)
• I won’t be able to wear black because it’ll be too hot in Tallahasee.
• Oh, worse! I’ll have to leave my house and be kind to mean people.
• I’ll be permanently out of my comfort zone!

Natalie Goldberg once said that the closer we get to breaking free of our comfort zones, the more deeply-buried fear will fight back. So maybe all this angst is a good thing???

Special NOTE: I may need to keep making these declarations of inadequacy for a few more days. It’s obnoxious. I know that. But what’s a public forum good for if I can’t use it to browbeat myself into action?

Yes, I’ve succombed to the lure of vanity–of having my first thoughts broadcast via the net over the face of the globe–by joining Twitter! But I tell myself I’ve done it for a good cause. Not for me, oh no! But for the general good of Flash Fiction Writers Everywhere! I’m a mere conduit for all that discussion, right?

My secret self wonders, “Sure, Gay, you’re doing it for THEM. Like you know what THEY need, but we know your dirty little secret. You want more pages on Google. You want people to flock to you!”

No. Really I don’t. (You believe that?)

Most of us want “flockage,” though many deny it. It’s human nature to desire attention. Flock to EDF’s new Flash Fiction Chronicles at TWITTER. And of course visit the new blog itself at Flash Fiction Chronicles.

ATTENTION! CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS
Start some flockage of your own

Flash Fiction Chronicles would like to post your article on writing. Find out more at Submit a Blog Post.

There is nothing new or special about feeling it necessary to apologize when a writer hands a new piece of work to a friend or fellow writer. We all have that impulse initially. What we read “out there” is polished, professional, perfect, and we’re NOT. Or at least that’s how we think when we are new.

The higher one’s standards are the more difficult and treacherous the terrain. There’s only one way to deal with the universal problem of being embarrassed and humiliated by our own inability to get something we’re proud of in a short period of time.

Patience: Have faith in the process because it is a process. None of us have the gift of words flowing perfectly the first time through the tips of our fingers.

We need to let go of that expectation and tell ourselves: This draft is just fine right now. I’ll fix it later. Just get what’s coming NOW down now and worry about making it better the next time through. You see, THE NEXT TIME THROUGH, AND THE TIME AFTER THAT, AND THE TIME AFTER THAT, AND THE TIME AFTER THAT, OVER AND OVER again is what makes a piece finally not be embarrassing and humiliating to ourselves.

The willingness to go back and look our “mistakes” up and down and fix them, refine them, reedit them, spell check them, etc. that’s the path that leads to writing bliss.

Writing is a Process. The rough draft is about content…making it up.The second draft is about structure…making sense.The third draft is about language…making it clear.The fourth draft is about perfection…making it publishable.And that’s just the big drafts, not counting all the little drafts in between.

As Malcolm Gladwell states in his book, Outliers, it takes over 10,000 hours to be come an expert so there’s no reason in the world to apologize that you haven’t reached perfection yet.

And if that doesn’t make the point, then hears what Sean Lovelace put on his blog today after seeing David Sedaris at a reading:

Sedaris read only works-in-progress. In fact, he had just written many of these drafts, and explained that giving readings is how he works and reworks material. He actually stood there with a pencil line-editing the pages as he read aloud. Very cool, and I hope my students noticed the process. I also hope they heard
him say, “My essays need about 12 revisions. I usually give revision #9 to my editor.”

And you asked for nachos, Sean? They’re not only for snacks anymore.

EVERY DAY FICTION’S April Table of Contents

Apr 1 Leigha Butler Riding in Circles for Love
Apr 2 Patsy CollinsThe Scent of Lilac
Apr 3 Brian Dolton Atacama
Apr 4 John Lander Gallows
Apr 5 sn wright The List
Apr 6 Nicholas Ozment Pixelated Peasants
Apr 7 Stephanie Scarborough Leopold’s Monocle
Apr 8 Frank Roger The Glitch
Apr 9 Benjamin Jacobson The Apple Tree
Apr 10 TW Williams Glass Houses
Apr 11 Oscar Windsor-Smith Pigs Could Fly
Apr 12 Gustavo Bondoni Dangerous Skies
Apr 13 Joseph Freeman Flash Fiction
Apr 14 Ty Johnston The Way the Sunlight Lays Upon Her Hair
Apr 15 Dave Macpherson The Angels of Merciless
Apr 16 Stu Andrews Twenty Years
Apr 17 Mark Dalligan Bag Lady Blues
Apr 18 Bret Bass Tren del Fin del Mundo
Apr 19 Michael Tracy Mr. Sterne
Apr 20 Joshua Scribner Wish Limits
Apr 21 Emanuella Martin Road Kill
Apr 22 Pam L. Wallace Potion Woes
Apr 23 Jonathan Pinnock Opening the Box
Apr 24 Rodello Santos Conceived
Apr 25 Wayne Scheer Starting Over
Apr 26 AJ Brown Losing Grandma
Apr 27 Sarah Black The Windows Shatter Boise
Apr 28 K.C. Shaw God of Worms
Apr 29 Jerry Constantino 23 Down
Apr 30 Tim Love The Economics of Despair

So much has happened over the last two weeks that I’m behind like a mother. Most important I did want to say that my story Losing Ground is out this month in Tattoo Highway, a very cool lit-mag on the net. Che-che-check it out. And thanks to those of you who read it and sent me those kind words of encouragement. Love you guys.

Every Day Fiction is launching EDF’s Flash Fiction Blog with an inaugural piece from Sarah Hilary called “Historical Flash – (Re)living the Moment.” Future blog posts are coming from Jordan Lapp, Camille Gooderham Campbell, Stephen Smethurst, KC Ball, Jason Stout, Dave McPhearson, Alexander Burns, C.L. Holland, DJ Barber, and more including yours truly.

The site is owned by Every Day Publishing which publishes Every Day Fiction and Every Day Poets, 365 days a year.

Flash Fiction Blog MISSION: Our goal is to help in the growth of quality flash fiction for writers and readers online and in print. This site is dedicated to the discussion of the art and craft of flash fiction, fiction in general, and the issues of writing, marketing, and publishing today.

BTW, I’m kind of the editor.

And slush life. I have a couple more posts to make here about avoiding the bounce out of the slush pile, but they’ll have to wait until next week.

In her essay in The Best of Every Day Fiction, editor extraordinaire and slush mistress Camille Gooderham Campbell writes, “Despite its appeal as a quick read, flash fiction is not simplistic. Quite the opposite; it can and should be one of the most demanding literary forms, with a need for perfectly crafted prose, a complete story arc in a tight space, and an immediately engaging hook.”

As I read submissions in the slush pile at Every Day Fiction, I realize that many writers do not have an understand of what flash fiction is. Camille’s definition is a great place to start.

BUT FIRST, WHAT FLASH ISN’T.

Flash is not some accidentally thrown together words that seem to flow through a writer’s fingers without much thought. Yes, it’s true that some writers are skilled enough, and/or gifted enough to not have to edit very much, maybe even just proofread, but believe me, that’s not me and I’d take any bet that that isn’t most of you out there.

Flash is not a prose poem.

It’s not a vengeful spew about killing someone without developing character and complexity.

It’s not an extended paragraph used to set up a punch line.

It’s not an anecdote-slice-of-life-guess-what-happened-when-I walked-out-to-get-the-newspaper-the-sun-was-blinding-and-I-tripped.

It’s not an article, sermon, op-ed piece.

It’s not an obituary-like report on someone’s life.

SO WHAT IS FLASH?

Good flash is governed by the same reader expectation as any other fiction writing. Check Aristotle. Check Robert McKee. Check Chris Vogler. Heck, go read the bliss man, Joseph Campbell. Readers expect certain things and Camille tells you what they are: a hook, a story arc, and strong prose.

I want to add on more thing, good flash like all good writing should have some point to make, a reason for being that somehow, in small or large way, reveals a universal truth, a moment that brings to the reader a smile, a laugh, a tear, a “Yep, ain’t that just the way life is.”

So when thinking about writing flash, it would be helpful to keep in mind some of the words and phrases that should apply to any piece of flash:

surprising, fresh, original, intiguing, new

compelling content, unique situation, interesting choices made by characters, anchored by time and place, has conflict, has tension, active protagonist, action not activity, complexity not complication, delivers an ending that is unexpected but inevitable

precise language, clear distinct voice, specific detail

Words you don’t want associated with your flash:

bland, mundane, vague, trite, dashed off, trickery, passive, predictable, nothing happens, no sense of place, unclear, not cohesive.

Crafting perfect prose, if that’s even possible, NEXT.

The craft issues of content, structure, and language a writer must consider when submitting a manuscript are extremely important, but first I want to share some easy-to-learn check-list items that will help to keep your piece off the bottom of the slush, the use of proper formatting, attention to grammar and spelling, and taking the time to proofread. Awareness of the importance of these three steps in the preparation of a story or essay for submission is one sign that an author takes his work seriously.

FORMAT

While incorrect format doesn’t necessarily suggest the writing will be bad, it does suggest “AMATEUR.” Most first-to-slit-open-the-envelope slushers understand it’s their job to read through the end of a submission, BUT once they spot dense paragraphs or a million extra spacings between lines, a prejudice will insidiously try to slither into the reader’s brain. Mumbling slush readers wonder if the writer is too lazy to find out how to format or too full of hubris to make the effort to create a professional-looking piece. Mumbles may turn into screams. “Gimme a break! I’m drowning here.”

FYI to all who wonder why you never get a hand written note about your work:

Innumerable sites on the Internet have templates for proper formatting and almost every publisher has his own guidelines. If you don’t want to sink to the bottom of the slush, learn everything you can about professional manuscript format and use it. Cormac McCarthy and e.e. cummings may be exceptions to the rule, but are you sure you want to risk it?

GRAMMAR AND SPELLING

I know. This is the I-used-to-be-an English teacher coming out in me, but once again, if you are submitting to a publisher, shouldn’t your submission demonstrate you can write with assurance using the accepted standards of the language? I’m not saying a rule or two can’t be broken. Many excellent writers break basic grammar rules, but they do it for rhythm and impact. On purpose. Fragments? Really? I can do that? Maybe. But first it helps if the writing demonstrates that broken rules contribute to the voice, the action, the pacing of the piece. Not understanding how grammar works or being sloppy with your submission is like attaching an anvil to your manuscript and throwing it off the Continental Shelf. (Maybe that’s why it’s called a “submission?”)

PROOFREADING

A frustrating fact of life is when you finish something and you’re ready to move on, you’re probably not really finished. I finish writing a post here, and click that little orange publish button. Feeling good, feeling complete. Then I read through the blog as you would read it, and sure enough, I find typos, misspelled words, fragmented thoughts galore. It’s inevitable. I can try and catch everything, but it may take two or three readings to get it all. Does it mean it’s always perfect? Probably not, but 99% of the simple errors should be gone.

Obviously if someone drafts a well-paced, well-written, well-structured story with compelling characters meeting and overcoming internal and external obstacles, no self-respecting slusher is going to fail to pass it along for a typo, but for most of us, it’s better to make the easy things like format and spelling part of our routine because bobbing up to the top of the slush, demonstrating our competence with the big stuff like content, structure, and language, that’s just not as easy.

It’s already March and I haven’t progressed as much as I’d hoped on “the novel.” I’ve been too busy rewriting and sending out flashes that were written in December for a chapbook competition. Flash is so seductive that it’s hard to resist. A piece of flash is controllable, doable within a short period of time. A rough can be written in an hour and the piece can be polished in a day or two. A writer only has 1000 or so words to wrestle with and the end result is much faster than say anything with 80,000!

With that in mind, I decided to make it impossible to give into writing flash for my favorite site, Every Day Fiction making The London Eye my last piece there for a while. I bought a pair of wellingtons, donned my mac, grabbed a shovel, and dove into the EDF Slush.

I’ve been slogging along now for a week or two and have a few things I’d like to say about the experience and pass along a few clues to those who want to write and submit flash. These are, of course, my own thoughts on the subject, so feel free, anyone out there, to disagree. But maybe something here will turn out to be a new lens with which to see your work.

I’ve read tons of writing, both as a life-time reader for pleasure and as an ex-English teacher. I feel qualified to do so, but it’s not as easy as it might seem. The trick for the slush reader is to find something encouraging to say and to present the negatives in a way that is both constructive and doesn’t offend. This is harder than it sounds. Many newer writers are clueless in general and many more experienced feel they have already learned it all. The relationship between a writer and a reader, in the slush and out, is always precarious.

The mucky job:

Sometimes encouragement is easy because the writer writes well, his use of words is precise and vivid or his sentence structure is clear and seductive. Reading this material is fun. And I can praise what the writer has done with his prose.

Sometimes I’m intrigued by the originality of a piece, whether the writer has dropped some weird-morphed creature in a workaday world or used an old-fashioned set-up and pay-off in a fresh way. This also makes saying something encouraging easier.

However, rare is the piece that flows with just the right words AND contains fresh and compelling content and if they do both, the piece may still lack one more element.

A good story should possess strong prose, compelling content and that third element, structure. This seems to be the one aspect lacking in most work in the slush pile. When a piece of writing suffers in all three areas: language, content, and structure, it is almost impossible to figure out what to say.

However, flash is the perfect form to master these three skills because of the length and once it is mastered, any form of writing becomes easier to write…and easier for the slush reader to say, YES!

Crafting flash requires a specific mindset in the areas of language, content, and structure and I’ll discuss content that lends itself to flash tomorrow.