Thoughts On Being The Editor

Now that I've put a few weeks between me and selecting stories for Northern Light: 20 MinnSpec Tales and surviving a grilling by various MinnSpec members about why I chose certain stories, I've started to have some thoughts about sitting in the editor's chair.

Besides selecting the stories for the MinnSpec anthology, I have also been reading slush for Fantasy Magazine for nearly a year. I've read a lot of fiction in the last year. Some of it was quite good. Some of it, not so much. Once in awhile you find a gem. Most of it is middle-of-road. Okay, but nothing special.

The thing is, all of these stories are special, at least to the one who wrote them. The writer worked on this story, made it the best they could with the tools they have available. They had the courage to send it out into the world, hopeful that an editor also would find it special.

As an editor, I do not owe the writer anything more than a yes or no. As a writer, I don't expect anything more from an editor than a yes or no. If I can give (or receive) useful advice, great, but it is not owed. Look, the slush pile is a hard place for both the writer trying to break out of it and the editor wading through it looking for that one story that leaps out. I know what this is like from both points of view.

Recently, I figured out why I get tense when I read about (or receive) a rejection full of nastiness designed to encourage the writer to put away their word processor and take a job digging ditches in Alaska with a spork. It is the same reason I dislike certain blogs by agents and editors that take great glee in snarking and poking fun at submissions by would-be authors who are still learning their craft.

I dislike this because it's disrespectful.

And if an editor or agent does things to identify the submission they are being nasty about, it is ten-times worse in my opinion.

Yes, I know writers--especially new writers--are just as bad about going to their blog and pissing and moaning about agents and editors who don't understand their wonderful story. This is disrespectful as well, but right now I'm talking about--and from the point of view of--those on the business end of publishing and how they treat those on (or who aspire to be on) the creative end.

I know the number of sub-par stories you find in the slush. I know that sometimes you get a story that is nothing more than the writer working out their emotional issues, or putting their personal kinks on the page for you to read in mind-numbing detail, or showing you just how badly they need psychological help, but...

But they had the desire to write the story, the drive to finish the story, and courage to submit the story. That deserves respect, no matter the level of skill or flavor of the story. If you are an editor or agent, you are a professional. You can critique and teach without being nasty.

Don't be the editor (or agent) that writes mean-spirited rejections and mocks writers on their blog. Be professional. That writer tried their best. Be respectful of that effort.

Thoughts On Being The Editor

Now that I've put a few weeks between me and selecting stories for Northern Light: 20 MinnSpec Tales and surviving a grilling by various MinnSpec members about why I chose certain stories, I've started to have some thoughts about sitting in the editor's chair.

Besides selecting the stories for the MinnSpec anthology, I have also been reading slush for Fantasy Magazine for nearly a year. I've read a lot of fiction in the last year. Some of it was quite good. Some of it, not so much. Once in awhile you find a gem. Most of it is middle-of-road. Okay, but nothing special.

The thing is, all of these stories are special, at least to the one who wrote them. The writer worked on this story, made it the best they could with the tools they have available. They had the courage to send it out into the world, hopeful that an editor also would find it special.

As an editor, I do not owe the writer anything more than a yes or no. As a writer, I don't expect anything more from an editor than a yes or no. If I can give (or receive) useful advice, great, but it is not owed. Look, the slush pile is a hard place for both the writer trying to break out of it and the editor wading through it looking for that one story that leaps out. I know what this is like from both points of view.

Recently, I figured out why I get tense when I read about (or receive) a rejection full of nastiness designed to encourage the writer to put away their word processor and take a job digging ditches in Alaska with a spork. It is the same reason I dislike certain blogs by agents and editors that take great glee in snarking and poking fun at submissions by would-be authors who are still learning their craft.

I dislike this because it's disrespectful.

And if an editor or agent does things to identify the submission they are being nasty about, it is ten-times worse in my opinion.

Yes, I know writers--especially new writers--are just as bad about going to their blog and pissing and moaning about agents and editors who don't understand their wonderful story. This is disrespectful as well, but right now I'm talking about--and from the point of view of--those on the business end of publishing and how they treat those on (or who aspire to be on) the creative end.

I know the number of sub-par stories you find in the slush. I know that sometimes you get a story that is nothing more than the writer working out their emotional issues, or putting their personal kinks on the page for you to read in mind-numbing detail, or showing you just how badly they need psychological help, but...

But they had the desire to write the story, the drive to finish the story, and courage to submit the story. That deserves respect, no matter the level of skill or flavor of the story. If you are an editor or agent, you are a professional. You can critique and teach without being nasty.

Don't be the editor (or agent) that writes mean-spirited rejections and mocks writers on their blog. Be professional. That writer tried their best. Be respectful of that effort.