Monday, 22 August 2016

Soci of Metro - First Rejection

I've received my first literacy agency rejection for my novel Soci of Metro. But that's okay.

It was a form email—a copy & paste jobby. But that's okay.

I received the rejection only a handful of days after submitting. But that's okay.

I'm okay.

A lot of authors give a lot of advice about rejection. Most claim that a rejection is a badge of honour for aspiring writers, proof that they've gone through the submission gauntlet and come out the other side, a feat that many writers never reach, because they never finish their work and never submit in the first place.

Most also claim that rejection is inevitable, that taking a few bullets for your novel before finding success is standard fare, and that it's nothing to be ashamed of.

And they're right. And it's okay. But it still kinda stings.

The rejection email in question landed in my inbox barely a few hours after I'd scheduled my previous blog post. I didn't have the heart to change it. But it's okay. I'm okay.

The number of agents who have yet to respond is just under double digits, and I have another batch of submissions ready to go. It's tempting to rattle them all off as fast as possible, but as with any kind of writing, all these cover letters need time to breathe. I need time to breathe.

But it's okay. And I'm okay.

Wednesday, 17 August 2016

Soci of Metro: More Submissions Sent

The second batch of novel submissions to agencies has been sent off. Sample chapters and synopses of Soci of Metro have landed in the overcrowded inboxes of literary agents across the country. Well, London mostly.

It's disheartening to see that I've already made it halfway through my list of 20+ agencies that accept science fiction. Once the next few batches of submissions have been sent, and my list runs dry, what then?

It's only been a few weeks since sending my first batch. And most agencies state a firm 6-8 or 8-10 week response time. And though I've received no responses, I've received no rejections either. I still have a chance.

In the meantime I'm polishing up submissions, and working on a fourth draft of Soci of Metro. I say "fourth draft", although I'm only really hunting for typos. It's tedious, and I don't enjoy it, but it needs doing. Still, I'm busy, and that's the important thing. But it also means I don't have anything interesting to post on my blog, so… yeah, here's a GIF of Data playing with Spot.

Wednesday, 10 August 2016

The Hellbound Heart's Super Amazing and Cheesy Cover

I've been looking for a copy of The Hellbound Heart by Clive Barker for ages. Now I have one. And blimey, look at that super-awesome-cheesy cover.

Friday, 22 July 2016

Soci of Metro: First Submission Sent

When this post goes live, I should have already sent my first novel submission to a literary agent.

It's been three weeks since I finished the third draft of Soci of Metro. Since then I've been busy with various different tasks that have all led to this moment—this first submission.

Tuesday, 19 July 2016

I Killed a Bunch of Flies Recently

I don't like to kill things. Most bugs are annoying and creepy, and I'm terrified of spiders. But for the most part, in the UK at least, bugs are harmless. In fact, insects and arachnids are an essential element of the ecosystem—an ecosystem that's been heavily affected by the zany weather we've had over the last few years. With all that in mind, I think killing insects for my own convenience is wrong. I try to avoid it as much as possible.

But yesterday morning, with the temperate creeping towards 30°C, and 20-plus flies buzzing around the flat, something inside me snapped. I found myself pounding down the street like a man possessed, heading towards Poundland with a ten pound note in my pocket. I returned with only one thing:

A cheap plastic fly swat.

Actually, it was two for a pound, so I kept one aside for Emma. You know, like a present.

So I busted into my flat, armed with my floppy yellow tool of justice, and found that Pestilence had had its way with my kitchen: flies on every wall, every surface, loitering on the fridge, crawling over my mugs, chillin' by the sink.

They never saw me coming.

I learnt a valuable lesson that day: Flies look weird when they're mating. I mean, it's a little unsettling. They kinda lock together like parts of some bristly black Megazord. And they can fly, while they're mating. Like, both sets of wings start buzzing, then they take off and bounce off everything, and… man it's weird.