A Mountain of Markets

Several years ago I made a couple of half-hearted attempts to get my short stories published, but I never was able to successfully scale the veritable mountain of available markets. The process got to me, so I quit. This morning I decided to give it another go. Don’t know what made me think I’d be able to handle it any better today, but here I am.

I use Duotrope to narrow down the search for magazine markets, and while it’s an indispensable tool, it doesn’t make it an automatic process by any means. I’ve been researching for almost an hour and haven’t come up with one viable market. I’m starting at the high end of the payscale and working my way down, so I’m sure I’ll come across something eventually, but meanwhile, it’s drudgery.

The first challenge is defining the work, in terms of genre (fantasy), subgenre (light fantasy? magic realism? We’ll go with “Any subgenre.”), style (I’d call it quirky, but that returns no results so again: “Any subgenre.”). I choose my story specs, length and such, and hit Enter. I get 70 results. Wowzers. That’s a lot of stuff to go through, and of course I’m not familiar with most of these markets so not only do I have to research their submission requirements, but also their style to see if my story will match. I’m afraid my story won’t match any style.

I’d like to get paid, of course, but I’m mostly hungry for a cred, so I choose any payscale and sort from high to low. I don’t want to wait for six months before I can submit again, so I discard those who won’t take simultaneous submissions. I’m working my way through the list, but I’ll have to take a break before I make any real progress, it seems.

What method do you use for sorting through all these markets? Have you been successful? I’d love to hear how you climbed to the summit of Market Mountain. Don’t be shy.

Insomnia blogging

I drank coffee until well into this afternoon, and now I’m paying for it. It’s almost 1:00 a.m., probably will be by the time I publish this. When I get in this mode, lying in bed is just like lying in a bowl of swirling paint, all the thoughts taking over, but not in a pleasant dream-like way, more like someone has taken a stick and started stirring up my brains, around and around. I go over the same unlikely scenarios again and again, and usually they are bad ones…I have whole arguments with people in my head, and then I’m mad at those people but they haven’t done anything wrong. It’s silly.

I’m getting quite good at telling when I’m having normal, pre-sleep thought wanderings, and when they are the steamroller variety, so I don’t lie for long. I’ve been up a couple of hours by myself, watching the gerbil on her wheel, writing stories, and playing computer games till I work out whatever has me agitated. I wish I could talk it out, then maybe I could get to the bottom of it.

Actually, I’ve been a bit agitated all day, because of a very real and poignant dream, in which I lived with one of my children on a tiny island, a utopia of sorts, and my only means of communication, apparently, was messages in bottles thrown out to sea. My “husband” had left me, and I thought, Well I guess I don’t have to live on this island anymore. I sang “The Way We Were” while scrubbing the dishwasher in the front yard… woke up halfway through the first verse.

So anyway, this evening, while I waited to get sleepy, I started a story I’ve been thinking about for quite a while–seems like things have to ferment with me–and I wrote another as an impromptu exercise, but it turned out…interesting. It’s not a story so much as a one-sided conversation about a story. But the good part is that the story I was talking about sounded pretty good, so maybe I’ll put that in the idea still and let it ferment a while.

I guess I’m sleepy now…or maybe I’ll play a little more Dynomite…