And Ellison...

I went to see Harlan Ellison speak a couple of times. I never met him face to face, but over the years he surprised me with phone calls on three occasions. It was always nice to hear from him. The first time he made me guess who the stranger was who had phoned me. At that time I did not know his voice, having never heard him and not thinking for an instant that Harlan Ellison would bother to phone me. Exasperated, he finally had to tell me who he was and that, of course, struck me dumb.

He was a great American writer. His work has influenced most writers of my generation and he helped fuel and direct the righteous anger of many a young person. His stories have amazed and will continue to do so in years to come. We can miss him, but we still have his vast body of work.

The first time I saw this photo from an interview with Jason Brock, the words that popped into my head were "Jeffty is Five". Go look for that story. Read it.

Short Story Markets.

I don't write short stories as often as I once did. This is something that I've covered in my blog in times past, but I think it bears another brief visit.

Among the reasons that I don't work that often in short form is that I prefer to work on novels. Just for my own pleasure I prefer to create the skeleton of a more complicated story and spend a few months fleshing it out. It's just that I'm a happier writer working on novels than I am on short stories.

Another factor is that there are just not very many places where a person can sell a short story. It's no secret that the markets for short stories has gradually diminished since the 19th Century, and through the 20th Century, until today when it is almost impossible to find places where one can sell fiction in the short form. There are a few magazines around that publish short stories, but the competition for a place in them is stiff.

Even since the relatively recent days of my youth the markets have shriveled to the point of no return. Professional magazines that paid decent rates have vanished at an alarming rate. And even the days of semi-professional periodicals has continued to decline until on a few are left. I have been told to contribute to a few newer magazines and at least one revival of an old title, but when I inquire about their pay rates, I have been horrified to learn that they only pay a few bucks, and sometimes not at all. One particularly nasty woman who publishes a horror rag requires that all writers send her their stories "for the love", with no chance of payment of any kind.

Fuck that.

Some of my friends who self-publish have suggested that I go that route--that I self-publish my short stories. But I continue to resist the self-publishing platform. I'll still write short stories, but nowhere near the number that I did when I was in my 20s and 30s. And I suppose that I will try the few remaining professional markets when I do have something that I want to contribute.

 

Even the magazines from the 80s have faded and vanished.

Pay the Freaking Writer.

Talents...

Is it just me, or do Harlan Ellison...

and Frankie Valli...

look alike?