Here is the link to purchase the novella: http://amzn.to/1QFAE3F
Will insert the cover artwork once my computer is not being wonky..
Data Dive: "Twelve Years, Eight-Hundred Seventy-Two Miles"
Photo of the Arizona desert from the National Archives.
Woe is the writer who happens to write a story that runs from 8,000 to 40,000 words! The dreaded novella. Dreaded only for the reason that there are so few markets who take them (I will shortly be adding another post detailing a non-exhaustive list of literary magazines that take novellas). This is why you have to be twice as persistent when it comes to shopping novellas, and maybe come to the realization that some may only get to live on in a collection.
"Twelve Years..." is a story about two brothers taking a road trip from LA to Arizona to see their father executed on Death Row. That makes it sound darker than it is, as it's really a comedy with some dark undertones. A road trip offers a unique setting where the characters are essentially trapped in a car for hours. They will talk, and shit-talk, and argue, and tell stories.
The idea for this story originally came to me when I was in graduate school in California. I had driven across the desert to Las Vegas or to San Francisco more than a few times during my time on the West Coast. There is something eerie about the desert. When you stare out the window at this totally uninhabited land, it isn't too hard to think back to a time when it hadn't yet been explored. It's beautiful, but desolate and terribly lonely. I wasn't writing during that long stretch of time in CA, but some ideas for stories stuck with me, and I ended up writing this in 2013 when I was living in DC. It was actually during that odd period of a few weeks of government shutdown when Congress was, you know, being Congress. I was inhabiting coffee shops on the weekends, and would occasionally hear an odd tidbit like, "I'm just gonna break into that park man--what are they going to do, stop me?" (They did stop people, incidentally. I tried to go to Great Falls during that time and was turned away by a park ranger.)
Day One had given me positive feedback about a speculative science fiction novella I had submitted in the spring of 2015, so I thought "Twelve Years" might have a decent chance. I was surprised when four days later the editor sent me an email asking if she could call me. (Call me? Why?? To tell me that she liked the story, but that it was too long which is such a shame because she sorta liked it, which is what a couple other journals said?)
No, she wanted to publish it. I must have been grinning like an idiot during that phone call. I love all the things I write in different ways, but there's something about "Twelve Years" that's always made it close to my heart. Or maybe it's because each of my novellas is like a tender duckling with little hope of seeing the other side unless I tend, tend, tend to it to find it the right home.
When this baby goes out--in mid-September, I'm told--it will have been the longest thing I've published, but not the longest thing I've written. It will mean I have a product on Amazon that could be reviewed--yikes. It will mean disseminating an awesome joke I once made about traffic in LA to an entire population of readers. Score.
Number of submissions: 12 (3 of these were contests). Ratio of positive feedback to number of submissions: 35%. Time elapsed between completion of story and publication: 1.5 years.
Everywhere I've submitted and what happened, July 2015 edition
Below is a graph which chronicles all my submissions dating back to the early 00s until the date of this posting, but I'll come back and update it periodically.
Red dots: flat out form rejections
Yellow dot: detailed request for revise and resubmit. This like, never, happens
Orange dot: nice rejection with invitation to submit again, sometimes with personalized note
Blue: shortlisted for contest, or editors mentioned that a standard submission was shortlisted
Green: acceptance. Yay!
A few notes: magazines that never got back to me are not counted (because who knows, they might just be taking a really really long time, or perhaps they never got the submission). Contest submissions are counted as regular submissions.
Total submissions over the last decade and a half: 164. 33% of submissions receive some positive feedback (either a positive rejection, shortlisting, or publication). 3 were accepted, which means about 2% of all my submissions made it.
Why this critque of Disney princesses is totally wrong..
You probably saw this circulating on the internet, posted it on Facebook, or the like. I think it's part of this anti-princess movement, as if little girls wanting to be princesses is something that should be alarming. I'm not sure it is: princesses are in line for the throne. Diana, Elizabeth I, Grace Kelly--all princesses. And little girls might like sparkly things and might want to feel special. (Hey, some little boys too.)
Suspiciously absent: Mulan, Hunchback of Notre Dame, and Pocahontas, all movies from my youth.
Let's start with The Little Mermaid. Last time I checked, Eric falls in love with Ariel based on her voice, not her looks. In fact, when he interacts with voiceless Ariel, she looks exactly the same, but he's just not that into her. Her looks don't matter, but her specific talent does. But fundamentally, The Little Mermaid is a story about immigration. Ariel is pretty unhappy with her life way before she meets Eric--she hears stories about this fantastical other world and clearly wants to travel there. Despite her relatively privileged station in life, she's attracted to foreign lands and the potential adventure they offer. Enter Ursula: I can get you where you want to go for just a small price--I've totally done it for other people, and they are all happy! She's a coyote. And a bad one. You can view the story as Ariel "abandoning her family for a man" or you can view it as the sacrifices that first generation immigrants make. It's painful to say goodbye, but that's the price of immigration. Ariel, incidentally, is not really even close to her sisters, and has a loving but apparently strained relationship with her controlling father. Can you blame her for wanting to immigrate? Immigration means freedom for her, companionship with a man who seems to get her more than her own sisters, and the big wider world.
Aladdin. Did we seem the same movie? Jasmine rejection patriarchal notions that she should have no say in who she marries and loves. Specifically, she falls in love with a poor boy she meets in the marketplace. Love outside of caste--what could have been more taboo back then? She is unimpressed with Aladdin when he returns in disguise as a hot-shit prince. Put this in context of this being a historical fiction: this wouldn't have happened in real life. She would have been forced to marry whoever her father wanted and Jafar probably would have gotten his way. Who even knows what would have happened to a parrot that sounds like Gilbert Godfrey. Anyway, Jasmine is depicted as being strong-willed despite living in a male-dominated society, her father is depicted as ultimately being tender-hearted, and Aladdin's story highlights that money doesn't buy happiness. Maybe I've gone soft, but these don't seem like bad values to harp on.
In Beauty and the Beast there's a similarity to The Little Mermaid about feeling out of place. Belle does not fit into her parochial small town. She's intelligent and bookish, and the townsfolk think this is a con rather than a pro. Gaston values her for her beauty rather than who she is as a person--obtaining her is a status symbol, I don't even think he is necessarily fixated on her beauty per se. Belle falls in love with Beast despite his appearance. The above picture implies that beauty doesn't matter if you're male, but it does if you're female. So... the only conceivable reason that Beast could fall in love with Belle is her beauty? Not that they both have a mutual love of books, and that she's kind-hearted, and willing to risk her life to save her father?
Mind you, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs came out in 1937. I wouldn't even attempt to argue that it is as progressive as the above-three films, but I never found it particularly offensive. Prince Florian's love does not protect Snow White: she bites the poisoned apple. The dwarfs believe her to be dead--they didn't have stethoscopes back then. But does Florian even fall in love with her because of her beauty? He first hears her singing as she's working dressed as a scullery maid, then they sing together, which I imagine is how musicals depict the emotions surrounding what it is like to feel the chemistry of falling in love. His kiss brings her back. Is it "a man" bringing her back or "true love?" Isn't love something we should value?
Cinderella-- made in 1950. Yes, the character is supposed to be beautiful while her stepsisters are both plain and cruel (although in modern adaptions the stepsisters are often attractive and cruel--not sure what that development says about our society.) But also, like pretty much all the Disney princesses, Cinderella remains kind and caring despite the cruelty she faces. She befriends mice instead of beating them to death with a broom while screaming in terror. But yeah: the prince falls in love with her at the ball. Should we default to assuming this is because she is beautiful, or through some holistic combination of her personality, values, apparent good judgment, humor, etc.?
In Sleeping Beauty (1954) we see the same story again: Prince Phillip falls in love with Rose/Aurora because he hears her singing. Aurora was gifted with beauty and song by two separate fairies. He doesn't fall in love with her simply because of her looks, and she is conscious when it happens. More interestingly, Phillip is totally unaware of the fact that the singing peasant girl he met--Rose--is actually Aurora, the princess he was bethrothed to as a baby. He wants to marry her despite his princely obligations--another cross-class relationship! In the 50s!
So what are Disney princesses telling our little kids? That looks won't get you shit if you're a terrible person. Never give up the thing about you that is unique. That kindness and loyalty matter, and that you can be brave enough to be different, or fall in love outside of your social class (or even species?) Sadly, the nihilistic atheist in me can't help but to think that the most dangerously inaccurate thing in Disney movies is that the good guys always win and the bad guys are always vanquished. Look at the endings of the original Little Mermaid and Aladdin. A bit bleak.
Okay, end weird soapbox.
Data Dive #2: Whatever Happened to the Six Wives of Henry the VIII
I love the New Yorker's fiction podcast. On each podcast, a New Yorker author reads another author's short story, and then discusses it with the fiction editor, who has the most soothing voice ever. I really like this part at the end because it includes a mixture of analysis, editorial notes, and interesting tidbits like "I don't know what he was thinking or even what that means, but I always loved that part." One author selected a Donald Barthelme story that I originally read when I was an undergrad. I remember how much I loved it back then, and how awesome it was that you could take facts and then completely make up stuff about those real facts because ultimately, it doesn't matter.
So I thought about Anne Boleyn on the cover of Forbes Magazine with the stitch marks of where they had reattached her head. This became a short story about all 6 wives of Henry the VIII converging in one location for a reunion of sorts.
"Whatever Happened.." was ultimately a perfect match for Southern California Review because they were doing a themed issue on "Remnants." At its core, it is fundamentally a story about the wreckage left behind after a relationship ends (either by divorce of beheading, in Henry the VIII's case).
Number of submissions: 13. Ratio of positive feedback to number of submissions: 38%. Time elapsed between completion of story and publication: 1 year.
Data Dive #1: "Crushed"
Cover art by Gary Golightly
I was reading the author's contribution notes to Best American Short Stories once and one of the authors said something like "This story was rejected 20 times before X picked it up. Now it's in BASS. I just wanted to put that out there for other writers." A writing professor once told me that the students from his MFA that went on to be the most published weren't the best writers, but were the people who were the most persistent. I'm willing to guess that a publication record is some combination of talent, luck, persistence, and submission strategy.
I'm interested in the metrics behind publication--from the writers' end, not the publishing end, particularly because people often don't talk about it. I started making submissions was I was incredibly young and clueless and basically didn't have a writing network at all to compare notes with. This was before every journal had a real working website, and way before online journals. This was when Duotrope was free. I think something like a decade passed between my two logins--one a few years ago, one when the USSR was still a country or something. I know some folks are angry about Duotrope not being free anymore, but I will happily pay for anything that gives me data. Because data is my precious.
"Crushed" was published in The Pinch in 2014, but I actually wrote it more than ten years ago for a college writing workshop. I submitted it a handful of times back in early 2000s--nonsimultaneously, cringeworthy, now that I think about it, but my recollection is that back then that a lot of lit mags didn't allow simultaneous submissions. (I'm extremely happy that almost all journals have since changed their minds on that issue.) Back then, the only "data" I had available was the actual literary magazines I could physically get my hands on at the bookstore or at college libraries. Bookstores didn't carry a ton of them back then, so if I could get my paws on it, I would submit to it, which often meant I was submitting to magazines that were super prestigious. The problem was that I had no idea of what was prestigious--I didn't really know anyone who was seriously involved in the writing world, so as far as I knew Missouri Review and Podunk Quarterly could have been equally as good. I don't even think I regularly used the internet back then to find journals--I had a ricochet modem in my dorm room (yup, that was a thing) and I'm pretty sure I wrote papers by looking up topics using the Dewey Decimal System. I'm probably exaggerating. But maybe not. While this was a terrible submission strategy there's one thing psychologically interesting about it: submit to journals without knowing how hard they are to get into. It's the equivalent of not being scared off of asking out a girl because she's really hot. (I mean, she's probably busy, right?)
This story got rejected 6 times when I was initially sending it out and I thought this meant the story was terrible. There was this whole grad school thing and I stopped writing for almost 10 years. Then a decade later I started sending it out again, and on the 9th submission it was taken. So a story that was first sent out in the summer of 2001 was eventually published more than 10 years later, with basically no revisions.
Number of submissions: 9. Ratio of positive feedback to number of submissions: 20%. Time from completing story until publication: 13 years.