The First

by Scott Nicholson

  Short stories are in some ways a diminishing art form, if only because audience tastes have changed over time. I'm glad the public schools still teach classic literature and require the reading of short stories, even if I would go for selections beyond "A Rose for Emily" and "The Snows of Kilimanjaro." Of course, they still teach Ray Bradbury and Kurt Vonnegut, and I imagine Stephen King and Neil Gaiman will begin showing up in those textbooks, if they haven't already. Smart kids everywhere are finding their own storytellers, whether the form is graphic novels, movies, videogames, or their friends’ blogs and text messages.

  A preservationist attitude exists in the speculative genres, with story awards given high priority and loyal readers supporting the dwindling number of print magazines. The Internet, of course, opened up a whole new audience for short fiction, but the increased eyeball competition has more than offset the window of new opportunity. Maybe the overall number of readers has declined, but writers still tackle short fiction with gusto, whether it’s an opportunity to experiment, a chance to try out a new voice, or simply to sprint with an idea that doesn’t have enough legs to walk 400 pages.

  I’m sure nothing I’ve presented here will be taught in high school, though all have found editors willing to pay for their publication and all have already reached an audience. Sometimes the audience was large, sometimes it might only have numbered in the few dozen. They represent a writer stretching his wings in his first decade of development. As described below, some of the ideas are edgy and provocative, some are gentle, and some are fresh spins on relatively familiar themes. Some should be taken out back and shot.

  I’m grateful for the chance to offer them here. Take what you need and leave the rest.

  The Way of All Flesh—One of my most bizarre stories, this dark fantasy is a symbolic look at motherhood in all its pains and obligations, as well as a wistful nod toward a goddess-centered, village-oriented society. Appeared in the Australian magazine Altair #6/7, in which the final two issues were combined into one on the way to bankruptcy. The way of all fiction magazines.

  Heal Thyself—The entire counseling profession seems constructed on the idea that not only are we all sick, but we’ll never get better, even with caring, costly professional help. Because we can’t get better, we need help. Repeat as necessary. In the Aegri Somnia anthology edited by Jason Sizemore.

  Letters and Lies—This story is set in a fictional version of a former neighborhood of mine, and like the shoes, it arose from the idea "What if inanimate objects could project thoughts?" I think knowing too much about the lives of strangers would eventually cause your head to explode. Plus, back in the 1990’s, "going postal" was a real threat, before nut-balls realized they weren’t limited to just post offices if they were indulging in a killing spree. Originally published in Blue Murder #9.

  When You Wear These Shoes—This gentler, oddball fantasy arose from my habit of thrift-store shopping and wondering about the previous owners of all the shoes. Some people believe clothes can carry juju or karma and won’t wear used clothes. Me, I figure the previous journey was probably interesting one way or another. I knew there was an expected twist, of the hiker putting on the shoes and then being stuck in them, so I thought it better to take the other route. Originally published in Happy #15.

  The Night the Wind Died—Appeared in Flesh & Blood #10. Another gentler fantasy, one that didn’t really fit the "Scott Nicholson" mold that was emerging early in the 21st century. It’s part of the Makers series, where children control the natural forces and elements. I’ve always wanted to introduce more of these guys, and two appear in my story collection "Thank You for the Flowers."

  Wampus Cat—This story had an interesting transformation from a woman learning self-reliance to the introduction of an Appalachian myth. Part of the reason was practical, because editor Michael Knost was looking for such regional stories, and the other part was more mystical. My grandmother always told those old mountain tales, and that was my first exposure to fantasy, magic, and the supernatural. Appeared in Legends of the Mountain State 3.

  Beggar’s Velvet—I encountered the title phrase somewhere, and though it basically stands for "dust bunnies," I found it evocative. As a child, that land under the bed is fraught with dark horrors. Throw in a fragile mind and just about anything can happen. Published in the Whispers and Shadows anthology.

  Must See To Appreciate—It’s hard to come up with a new twist on the haunted-house story, so I decided to throw in the twist right from the beginning and make the tone a little humorous and sardonic. Possession works both ways. Appeared in Black Static #2.

  Dumb Luck—Appeared in the Exit Laughing anthology. Back before the era of email, you got your spam through the mailbox, and funny little pyramid schemes and chain letters would regularly appear, promising health, wealth, and love if you only performed certain small tasks. I always threw them away. I prefer leaving those things to chance.

  Tellers—Part of my Aeropagan cycle, drawn from a Greek idea and spun into a futuristic, dystopian government that stays remote and all-powerful. I played with the idea of giving a literal interpretation to the aphorism "Time is money." If every choice you made cost you a certain amount of time, would you still make it? Well, we all do that anyway, but we make up all sorts of justifications. Appeared in Speculon online magazine.

  Angelorum Orbis—An Areopagus story, this was published in Vampire Dan’s Story Emporium #6, back when there were scads of penny presses for speculative fiction. Sure, they came and went fast, but newer writers had a chance to actually get published on actual paper and earn a few dollars for it. This idea hinged almost entirely on my rusty Latin, which I studied for three years but never found useful except for the occasional crossword puzzle.

  Doomsday Diary—I don’t remember much about this one, or the reason for writing it, which probably says a lot. I almost left it out because of the over-the-top immorality, but upon reading it, I didn’t want to stop reading, so that’s as good a reason as any for a story to exist. Originally published in the Vivisections anthology.

  Narrow is the Way—I wrote this out in L.A. while I was attending one of the Writers of the Future workshops. Being out there with all that sunshine, eternally blooming flora, and conspicuous consumption left me cynical and nasty. Even the homeless are beautiful there, and they all have cell phones, as if expecting a call from their agents. Appeared in the Brainbox anthology edited by Steve Eller.

  The Shaping—One of my earlier stories, it made the rounds a little bit but spent most of its time tucked away in a computer folder. When Vince Liaguno launched the gay horror anthology Unspeakable Horror, I figured this would be a good fit. The protagonist is gay, but it’s the "otherness" that is truer to the theme, that sense of being an outcast and having to be selected and accepted. Of course, this is also a metaphor for the writing life and the constant specter of rejection.

  A Socketful of Blather—Once in a while I like to fancy myself a genius. I thought this story would get me anointed as some kind of Vonnegut wunderkind and university professors would be scrambling to decode my mastery of language and symbolism. Actually, it took nine years after its original acceptance for the story to be published. So much for the value of genius. Appeared in the online magazine Spacesuits and Sixguns.

  BONUS ESSAY: Don’t Sweat The Short Stuff, copyright 2004 by Scott Nicholson

  Most writers are notorious procrastinators, and besides Kevin J. Anderson, Mary Higgins Clark, and Stephen King, many of them would rather be doing anything besides sitting at a computer and looking for truth, beauty, and elegant grammar. So how does your average writer overcome the invisible barriers that make "The End" seem like a faraway dream?

  I’ve been fairly productive, though much of my output can be attributed to consistency rather than anything approaching genius. When I tackle a short story, I plunge in heart first and ride a rocket to the end. I’m not the only writer who believes a story should take only one or two sittings and a small handful o
f hours. But others who have been far more successful take a more steady approach to the story at hand, honing each detail until the product sparkles. It all depends on the individual writer, the degree of perfectionism, and the particular subject matter, but we all set our different courses by the same stars.

  Ideas are the easiest pieces of the puzzle. At the annual Writers of the Future workshop, one of the exercises involves taking an ordinary object in the room and writing a story about it during the week. At the 1998 workshop, Amy Sterling Casil was assigned an Altoids breath mint box. Over two days, Casil wrote "Mad for the Mints," a novelette based around Mad King George, a talking horse, and aliens, all inspired by the advertising copy "by order of His Majesty in 1775." The workshop leader, Dave Wolverton, had tears of laughter rolling down his eyes when he read it, and said, "There’s no editor on Earth that would not buy this story."

  Casil’s novelette made the cover of the Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. Because of her teaching commitments, Casil relies on bursts of high productivity for her fiction. She once wrote a 16,000 word novella in one sitting, live on the Internet as an "electronic storefront" project.

  Mark McLaughlin is one of the most prolific short story writers in speculative fiction. He’s published hundreds of stories, in addition to writing poems and articles and tackling various editing tasks. He usually carries a pad with him and writes in longhand at a coffee shop, drawing inspiration from the activity around him.

  Sometimes McLaughlin thinks up a funny title and then works backward, creating a story line to fit the name. Some examples include "Attack of the Fifty-Foot Prison Bitch" and a tale of ancient, eldritch rabbit gods, "The Hopper in the Hayfield." He also disproves the proverb of brevity being the sole of wit by employing a title like "Dead Cat Matches Wits with Ratnarokh, the Ultimate Sentient Super-Computer, on the Blood-Red Planet of the Porn-Bots."

  "I do write regularly," McLaughlin said. "That’s important. And I let a story sit a few days before I send it out, so that I can come back to it and see if it needs any further editing. While I’m letting a story sit, I'll usually work on another story. Or two. Or three."

  James Van Pelt also uses daily discipline to pile up the credits. Since his first story sale in 1991, he’s sold 46 stories to professional magazines and another 30 to semi-pro publications. Most of those have come in the last few years, along with numerous accolades and "Year’s Best" listings.

  "Since Sept. 20, 1999, I have written at least 200 words a day without missing a day," Van Pelt said. "Two-hundred isn't a bunch, but never missing piles them up pretty quickly. Also, lots of days I do more than 200, but 200 is the bar I have to clear."

  Van Pelt usually works on one story at a time, but also has an "idea file" for which he jots notes. By the time he gets around to the next story, he has had time to think about it. Very rarely does he finish a story in one sitting. Most take a week or two and get sent through a critique group before hitting the mail.

  Michael Bracken may the ultimate role model for short story productivity. He’s published works in almost every genre, under a variety of pen names, in everything from "True Confession" magazines to mystery and science fiction publications. He’s written over 800 short pieces, four novels and four collections, and edited five anthologies. This versatility has helped him gain a realistic view of the publishing industry.

  "Persistence is probably the single most important trait I have as a writer," Bracken said. "I keep manuscripts circulating until they sell, and some of them don't sell until years after they were written. There's no such thing as writer's block. If I'm working on a project and find myself stumped, I immediately switch gears and work on another project."

  Bracken usually has at least 30 different stories and a novel or two in progress, working on his writing career every day. He aims for the best-paying markets, but money isn’t the sole reason he’ll try a specific editor. He also explores overseas publications and is a promotional consultant. When he’s not at the keyboard, he’s doing a book signing, researching new story markets, or mailing out publicity materials. This year, he made the move to full-time freelance writing and editing.

  Other writers find ways to hang around the written word for a steady income even if they are not yet able to live off their story and novel sales. Van Pelt teaches college and high school English, Casil teaches writing for colleges and online workshops, and McLaughlin works in advertising, graphic design, art, and marketing, which are handy if not essential skills for the modern writer. I work as a newspaper reporter, where facts are the meat and potatoes but real human behavior proves itself to be an unfailingly unpredictable spice.

  Research is an important tool not only for adding veracity to a tale, but for spawning new story ideas. Casil revised her "Mad For The Mints" using period historical detail, and over the past few years has increasingly relied on research to produce accurate backgrounds and settings. Van Pelt has researched everything from the tunes that ice cream trucks play to what the world was like on Nov. 26, 1942. I once wrote two stories using the set of events from different viewpoints, based on personal accounts and court martial reports of prisoner mistreatment at the Civil War camp in Andersonville. One sold on its first submission and the next sold on its second submission, both to professional markets.

  Most prolific authors tend to have awe-inspiring stacks of rejection slips. A Van Pelt story was rejected 48 times before a pro magazine took it, and the story ended up getting an honorable mention in a "Year’s Best" anthology. Van Pelt carefully tracks all his submissions, but McLaughlin discards his rejection slips immediately, figuring there’s no point in dwelling on the negative. Casil said, "They pile up with other unfortunate mail and get thrown out periodically." My own pile measures in the hundreds, and one of my stories found a pro market on its 20th trip through the postal system.

  It’s easier to locate the right market or editor for a specific story after you’ve been around the block a little. McLaughlin now targets his stories to markets he thinks will fit, so he has a high percentage of acceptances. Bracken keeps all his rejection slips, but now sells most of what he writes, though not always on the first try. 2002 was the first year he received more acceptances than rejections. And it only took him 20 years to get there.

  "What rejections help me do is improve my marketing skills," Bracken said. "If an editor provides a personal note or checks something on a checklist, it helps me learn what that editor likes and dislikes about my work. Sometimes I learn to submit a different type of story, sometimes I learn the market is completely inappropriate for my work, and sometimes all I learn is that an editor is overstocked and that I should wait a few months before sending another manuscript to that market."

  Van Pelt admits the process looks pretty simple to those who see only the long bibliography of accepted stories and not the daily acts of discipline. He added, "What you don't see is the hours hunched over the keyboard while my fingers do nothing and my forehead is as furrowed as a Kansas cornfield."

  My most successful stories have been written on automatic pilot, and I can’t recall any short story that has taken me longer than a week. Most are done in a single day, because the emotion is often more important than logic to me, and stories by their nature should be limited to a single conflict. I can’t say I’m a top example of the craft, but I have won a few awards and manage to get published fairly steadily. While I wouldn’t become an editor at gun point, Bracken’s experience as an editor has taught him even more appreciation of the craft, and he’s discovered a probable secret to long-term sanity in a business that offers no guarantees.

  "I learned a long, long time ago that there are only two people I have to please with my writing: myself and one editor," Bracken said. "I have to like what I write well enough that I'm willing to spend money to mail it to someone else. And one editor has to like that manuscript well enough to devote part of her publication to my words. If I please anyone else in the process, it's pure gravy."

  Su
re, we’ve all heard the story of how Ernest Hemingway rewrote the last line of a novel thirty-something times before he was satisfied, but I’d bet you the line he ended up using was remarkably similar to his first try. Besides, he blew his own brains out with a shotgun. So whether you get keyboard blisters from rapid-fire verbal regurgitation or prowl the dusty columns of a thesaurus seeking the perfect word, remember that the end goal is the same. Get it done, and get it out there.

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  BONUS STORY: The Shifting Sands of Memory

  Copyright 1998 Scott Nicholson

  (This bonus SF/dark fantasy tale doesn’t really deserve to be reprinted, but it’s included here as a historical footnote. It was the first story of mine to see print, in XODDITY #3. I never even knew it had been accepted until a fold-and-staple Xerox copy of the issue showed up in the mail, with the story and a $10 check enclosed.If nothing else, maybe it will inspire you to think "I can write better than this." And before you know it, you, too, are a short-story writer.)

  Su November walked down the dingy halls of Nexus Nineteen and entered the expedition locker.

  Lealonnie Red, one of the natives who had befriended her, waved from across the noisy room. All around Su, men and women were undressing and wiggling into their protective suits. Su waded through the jutting elbows and flailing knees to her friend's side.

  Lealonnie's dark eyes were glittering in excitement. "They're saying it's a gold deposit. Third lode this week," she said, sliding her long chocolate arm into her suit.