Guest Post: Food and Politics by Juliet Kemp

There’s this common misconception that the world of editing (in the sense of submitting your story to a magazine or contest) is an absolute puzzle constantly being shifted around by angry and jaded editors. In classes, writing groups, and even among non-writers, I hear it repeated that you have to have this unknowable combination of luck and talent to land a spot in a magazine, and it isn’t worth trying or learning. You got it or you don’t.

But that type of thinking leaves most people without it.

I want to say that in my years as a reader, judge, and developmental editor none of that is true. Especially about editors. We’re not shadowed goblins lying in wait to crush every writers’ dream. The reason we got into this line of work is because we want to hear a good story, a new story. We want to be entertained.

But unfortunately, most of the time, we are not. We are left wondering where’s the story.

And after a few years, I realized that most stories don’t make it because of the same reasons. Time and time again, I open a submission (always reading without knowing the info of the author) and come across the same mistakes or faults in stories that keep a cool or fun idea from making it from a submission to an acceptance. Dear writer, I’m going to tell you these faults so that you can identify them in your own stories and make it out of the slush pile.

Because I do really want to see your stories out there. Even if I never read them, someone will, and they will love them.

One of the common issues I come across are dark openings. A dark opening is when a writer aims to be mysterious but doesn’t give the reader anything to hold on to. Often, the story opens with two characters exchanging a few lines of dialogue while doing some mundane task that is an overarching metaphor for the story. That in itself isn’t bad and can be found in a lot of great stories, but where the stories fail is in how they do this.

In dark openings, characters, along with their dialogue, are usually nondescript to the point where you can’t really tell who is saying what because everyone sounds the same, and they aren’t really having a conversation but are merely stating the story in a heavy-handed way. The correct way in doing these mysterious dialogue driven openings is to use metaphor less like metaphor and more like subtext so that the point comes in without feeling like it’s being fed to the reader. And, of course, all dialogue should be distinctive to the characters, but this is even more so important in an opening.

Not only does it show the reader the characters, but it shows them that you’re an author who knows your story and characters. It builds that very necessary and crucial bridge of trust between the writer and the reader.

Another thing that holds writers back is telling their story to the reader instead of showing their story to the reader. Commonly known as telling vs showing. Based on the stories I’ve read, my theory behind this bit of advice not sinking into writers is that they misunderstand what it means to show and to tell. Writers tend to do a lot of in your face telling masking as showing. For instance, during a fight scene, the reader will get a blow by blow of flailing arms and legs.

But that is not showing.

Showing does more than just show. Showing makes the reader feel. It calls forth the image of the scene or character to the reader’s mind. There are many ways to do this, but the top way is by using descriptive language and sentence structure to control reader emotion and story. Instead of giving a blow by blow of action, give a blow by blow of evocative internal workings. How does your character feel when slicing into their foe or friend or lover? Use the right words in the right order to create magic.

The final issue that many stories have, though there are many more, is that they start too late. For a story of any length, the editor looks for whether or not the writer has introduced world, theme, problem, and character within the first paragraph. But a lot of writers, choose to open their stories with something that they think will grab the attention of the reader or will paint a picture of the setting. But what will tell an editor of place or grab their attention won’t actually cue them in on what is important to this story and to the character.

Openings should introduce world, character, and problem at least on the first page. When it is not introduced, the editor is left wondering where the story is going, instead of wrapped up in its progression.

As you will have noticed, most of these issues happen in a story’s opening. That’s the only space you really have to win a reader or an editor over. And editors can feel or sense whether or not the story they dive into is written by a writer that knows what they are doing or by a writer who is just phoning it in because they don’t think they have to try.

If you take issue with this article and feel as though I am lying to you, then I leave you with this: it is my firm belief that every writer should become a slush reader, so that they may see the wide array of mistakes laden in stories. It will not only help you realize your own faults, but it will also show you that I am right.

BIO: Aigner Loren Wilson is a SFWA, HWA, and Codex writer whose stories and articles have appeared in Terraform, Rue Morgue, Arsenika, and more. She writes or edits for Strange Horizons, Nightlight: A Horror Podcast, NYC Midnight, and other outlets. To keep up to date on where she is publishing and other news, sign up for her newsletter, follow her on Instagram, or follow her blog.

If you’re an author or other fantasy and science fiction creative, and want to do a guest blog post, please check out the guest blog post guidelines. Or if you’re looking for community from other F&SF writers, sign up for the Rambo Academy for Wayward Writers Critclub!

While I am a sucker for fairytales and magic, one area of writing that I persistently search for is dystopian not-so-distant futuristic novels. Something plausible, and terrifying, that engulfs the reader in the imaginative, but hope-it-won’t-happen world characters live in.

What makes this genre so distinct from the rest of fiction is its possibility. Take The Handmaid’s Tale””Margaret Attwood created a world where everything was derived from something that happened in history. It is unfathomable to consider the world she created could become possible, but isn’t that the draw? Margaret dramatized real-world situations to tell her story. But the scariest part of the book is that much of the events have happened, or could happen in the near future. To believe something could become reality makes the story that much more interesting. It is fortune telling through a character’s lens.

Augland is such a novel. It takes readers through a not-so-distant future if greed and corporate and political power corruption became too powerful. It would take a domino effect of situations: a Civil War, a corporate giant, and a compelling AI and dream-like consumer product, to happen, but the truth is, its plausible.

The novel asks the question, if corporations genuinely wanted to gain complete control, what would it look like? Major conglomerates gain a monopoly on the corporate market, giant corporations become an essential part of our lives, and companies gain enough power to start a war and take over the government.

Augland expands the current corporate and government dynamic and exaggerates the perimeters of a world that would have the working class “employed” in exchange for mere survival within the corporation’s walls.

This dystopian world is not all bad, however. Many want to create a society that benefits the masses. This story shows what greed and power can do in the hands of corporations and AI technology, but it also shows us the damage that can be done when people rebel.

Coming December 6th! Augland, a dystopian science fiction novel that discusses the geopolitical climate of a futuristic corporate takeover. Ashton, an unknowing heroine, rallies against the corporate grain in a theme-park would full of Suits to protect those she cares about””the Suit-less.

Erin Carrougher lives in the Seattle area and was more than suited to write about the region as the location of her dystopian novel. She has a passion for storytelling and loves to envision worlds other than our own. Carrougher minored in Creative Writing and currently works as a Sales Manager, and enjoys cooking and the outdoors. Augland is Carrougher’s first novel.

Connect with Carrougher at erincarrougher.com, and on Facebook, LinkedIn, and Instagram.

Augland is available for pre-order from Amazon and Barnes & Noble.