THE WORKSHOP NEWSLETTER

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O | The Online Writing Workshop for SF, F & H Newsletter, November 2005
W | http://sff.onlinewritingworkshop.com
W | Become a better writer!

| - - CONTENTS - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - |

- Workshop News:
    December writing challenge
    Market information
    Contest for tips and hints
    Membership payment information
- Editors' Choices for October submissions
- Reviewer Honor Roll
- Publication Announcements
- Workshop Statistics
- Tips & Feedback


| - - WORKSHOP NEWS - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - |

It seems like it's only been a few weeks since the last newsletter...
oh, right, it has been!

Well, we're back on schedule -- despite having nearly all our staff
away at World Fantasy Convention for a week -- and this month's issue
feature an extra short story EC by OWW Resident Editor Kelly Link.
Can you ask for more than that?

Probably you can. But maybe you should wait for the holidays.


DECEMBER WRITING CHALLENGE

Jodi, OWW Challenge Dictator, Unicorn Warlord, and general menace,
writes:

"This is Leah Bobet's fault, in case anyone was wondering. It was
totally her suggestion! I'm just an innocent Dictator. I swear!

"Anyway, this month's challenge is dragon smut. Have fun. *grin*"

Remember: These are supposed to be fun, but don't forget to stretch
yourself. If you normally write fantasy, try SF. If you've never tried
space opera, here's your chance. It doesn't have to be great. It's all
about trying new things. There's no word limit, no time limit, no
nothin'. Just have fun.

Please don't post your challenge pieces to the workshop until December
first. Include "December Challenge" in your title so you can show off
how fancy you are to all your friends.

For more details on the challenges, check the Challenge home page at:
http://www.thermeon.net/checkered/Challenge.html


MARKET INFORMATION

Several OWWers have appeared in earlier volumes of the anthology
series POLYPHONY.  A reading period has been announced for the next
volume:

POLYPHONY 6
Wheatland Press
P.O. Box 1818
Wilsonville, OR 97070
inquiries@wheatlandpress.com

"The publisher and editors are committed to finding outstanding cutting
edge fiction from new writers as well as from established writers. We
will be looking for stories that stretch (or break) the boundaries of
traditional genres. Send us your magic realism, surrealism, literary
stories with a genre sensibility, and other hard-to-classify stories
with strong literary values, compelling characters, engaging tone and
unique voice. If you really want to know what we are looking for,
check out the previous volumes of POLYPHONY.

"We will accept submissions by lettermail only at our P.O. Box,
postmarked from December 15, 2005 to January 31, 2006. Email
submissions are welcome from overseas contributors. If you live in the
United States and feel you must email a submission to us, please query
first.  Please follow standard manuscript formatting and submission
conventions, especially including no simultaneous or multiple
submissions. Word count is open, but our preferred range is
4,000-10,000 words."


CONTEST FOR TIPS AND HINTS

Send us a helpful tip for your fellow authors on the subjects on
writing, publishing, or workshopping, and win a copy of Kate Wilhelm's
new book STORYTELLER: Writing Lessons and More from 27 Years of the
Clarion Writers' Workshop. Wilhelm has won the Hugo, Nebula, and Prix
Apollo Awards and taught at Clarion for...well...27 years.  A great
mix of workshop memoir and manual for aspiring writers in the genre.
And we have two copies to give away to the best tipsters out there.
Deadline: December 20.


MEMBERSHIP PAYMENT INFORMATION

How to pay: In the U.S., you can pay by PayPal or send us a check or
money order. Outside of the U.S., you can pay via PayPal (though
international memberships incur a small set-up fee); pay via Kagi
(www.kagi.com -- easier for non-U.S. people); send us a check in U.S.
dollars drawn on a U.S. bank (many banks can do this for you for a
fee); or send us an international money order (available at some banks
and some post offices).  If none of those options work for you, you
can send us U.S. dollars through the mail if you choose, or contact us
about barter if you have interesting goods to barter (not services).

Scholarship fund and gift memberships: you can give a gift membership
for another member; just send us a payment by whatever method you
like, noting who the membership is for and specifying whether the gift
is anonymous or not.  We will acknowledge receipt to you and the
member.  Or you can donate to our scholarship fund, which we use to
fully or partially cover the costs of an initial paying membership for
certain active, review-contributing members whose situations do not
allow them to pay the full membership fee themselves.

Bonus payments: The workshop costs only 94 cents per week, but we know
that many members feel that it's worth much more to them.  So here's
your chance to award us with a bonus on top of your membership fee.
For example, is the workshop worth five dollars a month to you? Award
us a $11 bonus along with your $49 membership fee. 25% of any bonus
payments we receive will go to our support staff, sort of like a tip
for good personal service. The rest will be tucked away to lengthen
the shoestring that is our budget and keep us running!

For more information:
Payments: http://sff.onlinewritingworkshop.com/memberships.shtml
Bonus payments and information about our company:
http://sff.onlinewritingworkshop.com/bonuspayments.shtml
Price comparisons:
http://sff.onlinewritingworkshop.com/memberships_comparison.shtml


| - - EDITORS' CHOICES - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - |

The Editors' Choices are chosen from the submissions from the previous
month that show the most potential or otherwise earn the admiration of
our Resident Editors.  Submissions in four categories -- SF, F,
horror, and short stories -- receive a detailed review, meant to be
educational for others as well as the author.

Reviews are written by our Resident Editors, award-winning authors and
instructors Jeanne Cavelos, Karin Lowachee, and Kelly Link, and by
experienced science-fiction and fantasy editor Jenni Smith-Gaynor. The
last four months of Editors' Choices and their editorial reviews are
archived on the workshop.  Go to the "Read, Rate, Review" page and
click on "Editors' Choices."

Congratulations to this month's Editors' Choice authors!

Editor's Choice, Fantasy Chapter/Partial Chapter:
DAY OF ALL SEASONS, Ch. 1 by Sandra Ulbrich

The first chapter of Sandra Ulbrich's novel DAY OF ALL SEASONS throws
a lot of information at us very quickly. I was intrigued by the Season
Lords, beings with supernatural power to control weather and heal
people, and their somewhat symbiotic relationship with each other. A
need for balance seems to be a must, and so there is always only one
set of active Lords. The main protagonist, Gwen, is introduced as the
replacement for a much beloved Season Lord, who is killed so Gwen can
assume her position.

This is not a bad setup -- the current and beloved Sola Spring dies in
a seemingly wasteful and preventable accident. The death opens the
door for young Gwen to step into the role she has been waiting to
fill. Dorian, another Season Lord and Sola's widower, is crushed and
angered by the loss of his wife, no matter that it's the will of the
Four Gods.

The first half of this chapter focuses on Gwen, but it reads as if
half the clarifying narrative was left out of this revision. The
opening paragraph is extremely awkward. We're immediately introduced
to two character names, Gwen and Margaret, but without any context.
Then, in the next paragraph, Gwen criticizes the king, "Does he think
we remember all of our magic from life to life and can use it the
instant we're born?" in her internal complaint about having to wait to
take up her destined job. The king has decreed that only one set of
Season Lords at a time are allowed to practice. Ulbrich explains this
in a few paragraphs later with a past-life memory of three Season
Lords and one who always shocks Gwen.

None of this has much impact on me because the focus is lost on too
many new and complex concepts. Instead of breaking off Gwen's
narrative to introduce us to Dorian and Margaret (ah, there's the
Margaret from the opening!), I'd much rather spend more time with
Gwen. Ulbrich could also start this chapter, and the book, with the
Season Lords, saving Gwen's character development for chapter two.
Either way, this chapter needs to focus on one thing or the other
because there's a lot of good stuff here getting lost in the crowd.

The Season Lords, past lives, social structure, and character conflict
are all big targets Ulbrich aims for in this chapter. I thought she
did a better job with the Season Lords and their interaction with one
another; she showed us their powers and interpersonal relationships
that made them sympathetic. I liked Margaret immediately; I could feel
Dorian's pain, but also saw his selfishness. Still, without greater
context, I'm not getting the full impact of what Margaret's death
means to the Season Lords as a unit. There will always be conflict
with transition, but is it the transition of Gwen into the unit or
Dorian's unacceptance of his gods' will that is the major character
motivation? It's not a bad setup and I only wish that had been more
fully explored.

Gwen mentions laws about the four Season Lords, that only one set, one
lord, can be active at a time. She also mentions past lives, shows us
memories of other Season Lords, but again, without context, the impact
is completely lost. I don't really need to know who Jacob is in this
chapter, but if past lives plays a major role with Season Lords, I'd
like this to be more clear right from the beginning. How do the past
lives contribute or hinder the individual Lord. Does it add to their
power or is it purely emotional? It's unclear whether or not one Lord
must die for the position to be freed or if the position can be
vacated voluntarily. Margaret implies that the positions can be left
voluntarily, the individuals stepping down still able to perform their
powers (which is against the law) without detection. Gwen implies that
she must wait for a sign from the gods, and that sign is the loss of
one Lord through death. Clarify this and both the sign and Margaret's
death will have the intended oomph.

What's working are the growing character stories, but I'm not getting
enough detail of the world. What makes a great book work is the sense
of reality within the established world. I do not see an established
world yet and so there is no solid reality for me to sink my teeth
into. This chapter contains inklings of it -- expand the social
constraints surrounding Gwen. Why tell us "She was alone, so she had
the luxury of stretching properly without being thought immodest" but
not reflect that in the way Margaret acts with the other Lords (or are
they apart from that social boundary)? Visceral details can add flavor
and tone to the chapter -- think of other ways to describe things
instead of visually. What sorts of details in Gwen's society are
important to her, to the society itself? Choose the details to
highlight the world and ground the reader in them.

There's a lot of promising stuff here. I think focusing on either Gwen
or the Season Lords might give the chapter the room to expand and
explore the grounding details necessary to really draw in the reader.
Those grounding details, the world building, the showing us of the
society, would help the situation's impact and increase the potential
sympathy felt for each major character. Use the novel length to
stretch out and envelope the reader in the complexities of the world
instead of rushing through them to get to the plot. Keep up the good
work and this will be a truly gripping story.

--Jenni Smith-Gaynor
Former editor, Del Rey Books


Editor's Choice, SF Chapter/Partial Chapter:
BLACKOUT - THE CONSPIRACY by Nicholas Lesniak

Though the very first line of this book is a cliche, the next
paragraph has a lot of energy despite the fact the descriptions aren't
necessarily new. But the author created an "action" of interest -- an
accident -- right from the get-go and also let the reader know this
was a future setting by mentioning the multi-tiered freeway and
throwing in a neologism. By the term "crash-cage" I was hooked.
Dropping the early hint of The Six is fine foreshadowing. What is this
world, is there significance to the accident, how do things operate?
Already there's an image painted, a scene where "something is wrong,"
and tell-tales of a city the reader might want to explore (aside: does
New Chicago indicate the old one was destroyed, or is this a city on
another planet?).

The paragraph is short, however, and to expand on that and draw the
reader in further without a break, you might want to connect the first
few paragraphs into a cohesive whole and flesh out New Chicago in a
couple more sentences of "cinematography" -- perhaps a bit of its
skyline or with other senses like sound, but nothing too much, as we
want to get to the protagonist Alex Dawson as soon as possible. What
the author did here, however, is create an "establishing shot" --
first we see the scene like a camera pan and then we focus on the
individual looking out over all of it, and his situation of being in a
cafe. Try not to speed too quickly over the scene. Once the reader's
"eye" is on Alex, fully establish his location in relation to the
accident.

The description of the ambulances created more color for this future
world, but the fact Alex was in a concourse cafe got a bit swallowed
up. Take some time to let the reader look around here as well, as it
is the location of the character. What are the smaller sounds and
smells in the cafe? What's the light like? Does he come here often so
there is a sense of familiarity? Is it generally clean or more of
those rundown places? Is it crowded like Starbucks in the morning?
What kind of business does it pull in, mostly suits or students or...?
All of this can be shown in a few succinct sentences before we swing
back to Alex looking down at the ambulances.

The dialogue and characterization here were both well-drawn.  These
things are usually tied together -- good dialogue enhances
characterization. Though the waitress didn't have much of a role, she
was still painted vividly through pointed description and the way she
said things. The fact Alex surmises things about her, almost
routinely, could be taken as the author giving passing interest, but
by the end of the scene we understand that this is probably something
he does with many people because of his work -- observe, assess,
conclude. The fact everyone we meet in this scene has a different
cadence of speech is shown effectively. This is a detail some tend to
overlook. Class, work, upbringing, education, age -- all of these
things affect how we speak and yet too often in stories everyone
sounds like they come from the same place, are all the same age, etc.
Variation in speech not only shows keen observation of the contrasts
in people, but it makes the narrative more enjoyable to read.

The dialogue also isn't wasted. While his conversation with the
waitress is mundane, it is brief, and it seems perfectly natural for
his gaze to wander and thus invite his neighbor to speak. This is the
conversation (about The Six) that the reader has to sit up and take
notice of, but it doesn't sound abrupt because it's sliding off of
another. Similarly, his later conversation with Logan -- going from
the personal (Logan's marriage) to the professional (Silhouette) was
seamless and interesting. Segue-ing from dialogue to dialogue and
scene to scene is important for the flow of the narrative.

Some of the descriptions truly stood out, like this: "Small LED's went
from red to green as he heard the successful login chime, an
irritating noise that sounded like a wounded trumpeter playing two
high notes."  Pepper more of those precise descriptions throughout the
scene to enhance the world and the narrative will feel fuller.

The author also doesn't let the reader sit too comfortably. All the
things that are "wrong" -- from the accident, to the mention of The
Six, and then Alex's low bank account -- give the reader hints of
future things that might be picked up on, as well as creating pulses
of interest to pull us along. The descriptions or actions of the
characters aren't merely always to set scene, but to give clues. The
fact we don't find out right away that Alex is ex-military and also
now working in covert operations is sly and well-drawn. Again, there
are hints -- like the green duffel bag and mentioning that he's lived
in many cities worldwide. This creates curiosity about him and propels
the reader to want to find out more. Especially with seemingly
off-the-cuff comments like this:  "Another opportunity for happiness
by the wayside."  This immediately begs the question: What other
opportunities did he lose? He seems to be a nice enough man, yet the
hints of "something wrong" or "something more" extend from the setting
and infiltrate his character.

As Alex steps into the city proper, there is a good opportunity to add
more color to the scene, some precise details that might set apart
this city from every bland image of a city that the reader would bring
to the story. Every city has a specific character by even just the
look of the skyscrapers. Also, if cars travel on multilevels, what do
the cars look like, how do they sound? Surely not the same as they do
now. Take advantage of these natural segues to expand on your vision
of this future.

At first, meeting Logan seems too much of a coincidence but by the end
of the scene we see that it wasn't at all. Again, the skill of giving
just enough information so the reader is interested but not frustrated
by ignorance -- basically dropping them into the world without a lot
of up-front exposition -- is utilized well in order to pull the reader
along in the narrative to find out "what next." The author also gives
the "payoff" in a reasonable amount of time so the reader is not
wondering "oh that's a little too convenient" for more than a couple
paragraphs. This line is the "punchline" -- the true payoff of the
scene and the platform off which we leap to the rest of the novel:

Alex looked around suspiciously, making sure that no one could hear
their conversation. In a whisper, he said, "You know about my
assignment?"

There is a height of intrigue for the reader by this point, exactly
what we need in order to turn the page for more. By having
Logan/Bones's last line be about Alex and slyly referring to a past
that we as readers don't yet know, that also implies that there is a
depth of details that will be explored in subsequent chapters. It's a
hook.

Though these are the last things a writer should really be concerned
with, the book title and chapter headings can use a second look. They
create a pretty bland image and don't really capture the energy of
even these first few pages, so just keep that at the back of the brain
for when more of the book is completed and you might want precise
imagery. Overall, the author is doing many right things here for a
future-setting spy novel -- keeping reader interest by dropping
important hints about conflict both personal and professional, and
populating a fascinating future world with a diversity of characters.

--Karin Lowachee
Author of BURNDIVE and CAGEBIRD
http://www.karinlowachee.com


Editor's Choice, Short Story:
"Young Love, On the Drowned Side of the City" by Will McIntosh

This is already a fairly successful old-fashioned sort of science
fiction story about a world in which most adults have been killed or
terribly damaged by an act of bio-terrorism: the protagonists are
children, most of whom have grown up only in the company of other
children. The writing reads very smoothly, the opening is strong, and
the ending is a terrific mix of the sentimental and the extremely
strange -- as the boy Whistle and his love interest come to a rather
sweet meeting of hearts and minds, the story could get gooey. But the
last paragraph rescues the story again: "Raindrops began to patter the
sidewalk. Caryn turned her head up and opened her mouth to catch
drops. In the distance, the adults began to scream." There's something
very John Wyndham-ish about the apocalyptic setting, that ending, and
those screams.

But as much as I like this story, I'd love to see the author make it a
bit better, a bit richer, a bit less facile -- I'd like to see the
strangeness of that ending brought out a degree or two more. Let's
start with the characters: these are children who have grown up on
their own. There's a wonderful moment in the story when a younger
child badly breaks his foot and the proposed, apparently acceptable
solution is to bash in his head with a brick. There's a terrific
disconnect there for the reader, especially since just before the
adolescents have been playing a slightly more macabre version of Marco
Polo and Spin-the-Bottle (with human bones). We've gotten comfortable
with these characters, and the jolt is a good one. But for some
reason, the two main characters, Whistle and Caryn, are just a bit
different. Caryn has been set up as someone who doesn't quite approve
of chaos, disorder, or being cruel to adults. And Whistle is clearly a
reliable boy -- he takes the boy with the broken foot to the hospital
(partly to get away from Caryn, who is kissing his friend), and he
performs several other acts of charity while he's at the hospital.

So what's the story? For certain, we need to know a bit more about
Caryn, and why she seems much more like a good girl from a
contemporary piece of fiction. We need to see how she reacts when
Whistle's friend suggests the mercy killing. We need a piece of
information (hearsay or gossip or from her) that will make her
goodness a complicated goodness, in the way that Will's actions feel
complicated. For example, the scene in which Will kisses the girl in
the hospital lung while he's foot-pumping the equipment that keeps her
breathing is a wonderful scene. And when he thinks that he probably
won't want to be her boyfriend or come back and kiss her, but perhaps
he can bring his friends to visit her, that's both kind and also
chilling. It seems like a good-hearted idea, but not a particularly
careful one. Make Caryn a bit richer as a character in the same way
that Whistle is a rich character, and that ending will feel much more
satisfying.

I'd also do a bit more work on the society and bonds that these
children and adolescents have -- at the moment, some of it works and
some of it feels too dated. A lot of the slang (words like "skank")
already feel out of date. "Tick" on the other hand, is a good bit of
slang. I know invented-language slang is hard, but it's pretty
essential when you're writing a story like this one. You don't need
much of it, but you do need some. I'd try reading the entire story out
loud and playing with the dialogue -- replacing one or two key words
with similar but wildly different words. Good luck with slang. As I
said, it's hard. Watch out for references to Batman the Boy Wonder and
"the ghost of Christmas past." Those references imply the world hasn't
changed as much as it needs to have changed for this story to exist.
Along the same lines, the game-playing is great, but I'm not sure that
Spin-the-Bottle feels quite weighty enough -- the contrast with the
boy's injury and how they propose to deal with it is maybe a bit too
corny. We should already feel a sense of rising menace when the games
begin, and the fact that they're playing with human bones isn't quite
enough. The stakes of that last game should be higher as well.

And the parasite-plague that has killed off most of the adults may not
be the best bio-terrorism event, either. It's too close to a real
parasitical condition, and that's part of the problem. It jerks me out
of the story. And on the other hand, because I know it's real, the way
in which the story tweaks the real parasite to be a mostly fatal
condition doesn't work for me. Come up with something scarier. After
all, half the fun of writing an apocalyptic piece of fiction is
scaring the pants off yourself and your readers with what you've
invented.

On the sentence and paragraph level, there are places where cutting
just one line will keep the story from getting too sentimental or from
making explicit what the reader ought to be working out for herself.
For example, "I pushed off, swam with this little bloke I hadn't met
until tonight clinging to my back. The hospital was three blocks of
swimming out of the flooded area, then six more on land." If you cut
this so that it reads simply "I pushed off. The hospital was three
blocks of swimming out of the flooded area, then six more on land" the
reader can supply the rest, and it doesn't make the story
self-congratulatory on the narrator's behalf. And when Caryn is making
up with Whistle, it's enough for her to say "That's nice of you to
say." I'd cut the follow-up sentence "I think I had you sorted wrong."
You could even cut the next to last paragraphs, where Caryn says "I'm
sorry too", etc, and then Whistle nudges her and they laugh. It's much
punchier if we go from Whistle thinking "This was the best night of my
life" to the rain falling, Caryn catching drops, and the adults
screaming.

Finally, keep an eye out for paragraphs where sentences begin to take
on too-repetitive rhythms. For example, "His leg caught the stone
overhang of a windowsill; he spun violently and hit the water. He
surfaced screaming." That repetitive set of structures means that you
lose some of the tension of the accident. Again, I'd read the whole
story aloud, to see where rhythms are working and where they feel just
a bit leaden. Good luck with this!


Editor's Choice, Short Story: "Legerdemain" by Amanda Downum

Again, this is a story with a great beginning and ending -- it begins
"The circus was in town" and it ends "When she was done, Jerusalem
Morrow packed a bag and packed her cat and ran away to join the
circus." (I've deleted a comma in that sentence -- you could leave
that comma and add one after "bag" if you prefer the way that looks.)
Jerusalem Morrow is a great name for a character, on the first page we
have: a witch with a mysterious past; Carson & Kindred's Circus
Fabulatoris and Menagerie of Mystical Marvels; a bottle tree with
something worse than a ghost caught in one of its bottles. A very
promising beginning!

The author says that this is an early draft, and there is still a lot
of hard work to be done on sketching in the various characters, their
back-stories and relationships, and the mysterious and supernatural
events that propel the plot. For example, the circus has a very
enticing name, and Jerusalem, in fact, used to travel with it. But
when we get a tour, we don't spend nearly enough time sightseeing, or
even getting the history of the circus. The author isn't quite doing
her job yet, as barker for the various acts -- tell us what Jerusalem
knows is going on. Delight and dazzle and horrify us with small,
specific details from the acts. Tell us what they have in glass
bottles, and what weird and impossible animal used to be kept out of
the sight of small children. And the same goes for Jerusalem's past -
there are references to a dead man and a miscarriage, but these
references to do more to irritate than to add depth. They come up over
and over again, but there's no payoff. They feel ornamental. Even
Jerusalem's relationship with the fortune-teller Ray doesn't feel
weighted yet. It seems as if they've shared lovers before, or learned
to share lovers, but that's all that we find out and that's a
tantalizing detail, but it isn't enough. When Jerusalem ends up in bed
with the conjure man Jacob, who is also Ray's lover, we need to hear
Jerusalem and Jacob talk about Ray a little. You need to weave that
kind of detail into the story better.

Before I go on to other larger matters, I need to talk about something
smaller but pervasive. The author says that this is a rough draft, and
that the writing is also rough. But I actually have the opposite
problem here. The writing feels too smooth, too careful, and too
polished. There are lots of jewel-like descriptions -- sentences like
"Smoke shimmered as he exhaled." And "No dreams to keep her up
tonight, only the wind through the window, light as a thief, and the
hollowness behind her chest." And "A train sprawled beside the station
platform, quiet as a sleeping snake. Its cars were black and tarnished
silver. Rust looked like bloodstains in the moon's dying light."

The problem with this kind of prose is that it's pretty in such a
familiar way that it doesn't actually have any weight. It's all
surface. For example, that train in the station is supposed to be
eerie, but instead the reader feels obligated to notice how much work
the author has put into crafting the sentence. The solution, in common
parlance, is this: "Kill your darlings." If you rework an image or a
sentence until it's all shiny, then you probably ought to admire it
for a beat or two and then delete it. Think about whether it's working
as hard as it ought to. If it feels absolutely true to you, and if it
feels fresh, then maybe it's worth saving. But the thing about true,
fresh images or descriptions is that even then you don't want to
overdo it. The reader needs to move smoothly through a story like
this, and not constantly be stopping to sniff the prose, so to speak.
Go back to that train: it's much scarier to describe it in as little
detail as possible. Start with "There was a train in the station."
Then tell us why there shouldn't be a train there. Tell us what
vintage train it is, and describe one or two specific, concrete things
about it. Tell us that it looks as if it's so cold that your fingers
would stick to it if you touched it, like licking steel in cold
weather. Or something like that.

Watch out for paragraphs like this one: "Shutters rattled over
blind-dark windows, and paint peeled in shriveled strips. The bird led
her to a nameless bar beside the train tracks. Jacob waited inside,
leaning against the dust-shrouded counter." That's a pretty paragraph,
but nothing about it feels real. Instead it feels like the movie-set
version of the paragraph that really ought to be there. Is the paint
peeling as she watches? Is Jacob getting his elbows all smeared with
dust? Is a nameless bar more interesting than a bar with a name? And
why are the shutters rattling? How does she feel when she sees him? If
I were her, I'd think he was a poser Goth-wannabe. Couldn't he at
least be reading a paper or drinking something he dug up from under
the bar?

Again, when Jacob touched the chain around her neck, why do "links
chime softly?" Do they really? And so on. Read the story out loud and
be ruthless.

On the other hand, all writer's need to learn to recognize when their
prose really sings. For example, "The moon rose slowly behind the
clouds, swollen and rust-colored. Something strange about its light
tonight, too heavy and almost sharp as it poured over Salem's skin.
Then she saw the shadow nibbling at one edge and understood --
eclipse. She lengthened her stride across the dry red rock." The
really gorgeous part of that paragraph is the way it switches between
languorous description (although I would probably cut either "slowly"
or "swollen and rust-colored") and that lovely rhythmic last sentence:
"She lengthened her stride across the dry red rock." In general, my
advice for the next draft would be to keep your prose as plain as
possible. Take almost all the lovely stuff out. If nothing else, it's
a useful exercise in style.

Okay, now back to the meat of the story. (The thing is, it's hard to
rework stories when the prose feels so polished.) The smooth surface
resists intervention and revision. But persist: esides working on the
relationships between Salem and Ray and Salem and Jacob, think about
what Salem has been doing just before the story starts. At the moment,
it seems (even to her) that Salem's been in a holding pattern, a kind
of retreat and a waiting for something larger to come along. Salem
doesn't have much of a life, and yet stories are richer when
characters have complicated lives. If Salem comes into the story with
a problem, or on the other hand, if something wonderful and engrossing
is going on, and the circus arrives at the worst possible moment, when
she would never, ever imagine getting involved with Jacob and his
nemesis, or leaving town, then you've got a good beginning. And let us
see that Salem is a witch. When she thinks that it's probably for the
best that she lost her baby because she has a witch's heart and not a
mother's heart, that's a _really_ intriguing distinction. But it's
something that you tell us. It would be great if you could _show_ us
her witch's heart as well.

The last big problem you have to solve is the problem of Odin and his
nemesis -- Loki, right? For one thing, what Loki is up to isn't clear.
He steals ghosts, but he also steals children? Or does he just go
after the ghosts of children? He doesn't seem particularly Loki like,
and neither does Odin seem particularly like Odin, except that he's
got one eye -- and only one raven, too. Why does Loki show up in a
wide-brimmed hat (something I associate Odin with, not Loki.) Near the
end, Odin gets a great line: "This is a hard country. Even gods go
begging here." But neither character really feels like a god or a
beggar yet. And this sinister business of Loki's isn't large enough,
or specific enough. I don't understand how he ends up getting trapped
in a bottle in Salem's tree, and even the reason that Odin/Jacob Grim
claims to need Salem's help feels trumped up. There ought to be some
trickery in there, and a bit more menace to both former gods. Even
Memory doesn't quite feel sharp enough as a character yet. A lot of
the time she's a bird, I'm confused, needlessly, about whether or not
she has one or two eyes. When she becomes a little girl, make her a
specific kind of little girl.

You may also want to rethink the ending. What if Salem doesn't end up
with Jacob? To be honest, I wouldn't care all that much. I'm not that
sold on it, and I'm not sure what they see in each other, either. At
the moment, the romance feels a bit standard. There are a lot of
descriptions and speech-tags that I think of as "standard-romance"
(like "standard-English"): characters cock or raise their eyebrows.
Grins and smiles crease, eyes narrow, fingers are calloused. Hair is
unruly. Etc. But what does it mean to Salem that she's slept with a
god? (Do you have to worry more about whether or not you used
contraception? In hindsight, do you think well, it was good but it
wasn't _that_ good?) More importantly, what does it mean that Salem
slept with Ray's boyfriend? And how familiar is Salem with the Norse
pantheon? The way the story works at the moment, it feels as if the
reader is supposed to recognize the gods, but I'm not sure what Salem
knows about gods, or what she thinks about them in general. And
ghosts, too. There are ghosts in this story, but they don't play a big
enough part.

So I guess my suggestions add up like so: loosen up the language a
bit. Cut some of the prettiest stuff out. Do more with your circus and
your side acts with your ghosts and your gods. Think some more about
Salem, and how she has a witch's heart. Make her magic a bit stranger,
and dig a bit deeper into her relationship with Ray. Good luck with
this: it may end up a lot longer, but that's not a bad thing at all.
The world needs more stories about circuses.

--Kelly Link
Editor of TRAMPOLINE and co-editor of YEAR'S BEST FANTASY & HORROR
http://www.kellylink.net/


Editor's Choice, Horror:
"Rat Trap" by Sean Lowe

One of the most striking aspects of this story is its setting, a
strange detoxification spa in the jungles of Thailand.  An unusual
setting with a sense of strangeness and menace can be a strong asset
to a horror story.  Science-fiction critics such as Darko Suvin often
say that SF provides "estrangement" -- meaning that stories take us to
a strange place, out of our experience.  We may be bombarded with
bizarre images and sensations, either pleasant or unpleasant. Yet
horror often does this same thing.  We are taken to a mysterious house
inhabited by an invisible presence, or a town where the birds are
turning into homicidal maniacs, or a remote cave in Antarctica filled
with monsters.

In SF, this estrangement is often accompanied by cognition, the
reader's attempt to figure out why this place is the way it is, to
make sense of the bizarre.  Usually the reader (and often the
character) come to understand the world.  The understanding may be
gradual, as in Philip K. Dick's DO ANDROIDS DREAM OF ELECTRIC SHEEP,
or it may be sudden and dramatic, as when Charlton Heston's character
screams at the end of the movie, "Soylent Green is made out of people!
 It's made out of people!"

Horror also often involves cognition.  The visitors to the mysterious
house struggle to figure out who is haunting it and why; the
inhabitants of the town besieged by birds try to understand why the
birds have changed.  Yet in horror the search for answers is often not
successful; the reader may discover the answer only when it's too late
for any of the characters, or the reader may find the strangeness far
too strong to be penetrated by reason, or the reader may discover a
truth that somehow defies or transcends reason.

In this case, I think the first option best describes the ending of
the story.  We work to understand this strange place -- what it is
about, why patrons go there, what the staff wants, why the rats are in
Jake's roof -- and we receive a partial answer in a revelatory image
at the end of the story.  In this way, the story works like a lot of
classic horror.  The plot is tight, the number of characters minimal,
and the strangeness constantly increases, all of which works well.
The writing is also pretty strong.  But I think the story has several
weak areas.

First, the setting is never fully convincing.  A place can be
mysterious and inexplicable yet completely believable.  Or it can be
mysterious and inexplicable and unbelievable.  For this type of story
to work, we need to believe in this place without reservation. In this
case, I wanted to believe, but I wasn't quite given the details I
needed to accept this strange spa.  I'm not sure where the spa is
located, but since the story opens with a Thai receptionist and a
jungle, I decided I was in Thailand.  If so, then why would Jake, an
American, go to this spa?  If he worked in Thailand or had business
there, I could accept this more easily.  But that's never mentioned.
The only other patron described is a Swede, so I wonder why he's there
too.  It's hard to believe this little rundown spa is a worldwide
attraction or that people would travel so far for treatment.  One look
at a couple photos on Expedia would be enough to scare most Westerners
off, no matter what claims the spa made.  If it is such a great
attraction, then a cost of $60 a day seems way too cheap.  So in my
cognitive process, I couldn't quite put this together in a way that
made sense to me.

Second, the character of Jake doesn't quite work in the story.  This
is partly related to the previous point.  I don't understand why Jake
has gone to this place.  I might be able to accept it if he had
business in the area or a friend who had gone, or if there was some
other reason.  I also don't believe Jake is fat.  He barely thinks
about eating, and his actions don't seem those of a person handicapped
by a lot of extra weight.

There's also the issue of Jake's role in the story.  Jake comes to a
horrific end.  Should I feel bad for the innocent Jake, who has met
this fate at the hands of the evil spa employees?  Or should I feel
satisfied that the insensitive, obnoxious Jake has received his just
desserts from the put-upon spa employees?  Elements in the story push
me in both of these directions, which makes me not really sure what to
feel at the end and blunts my reaction.  Lovecraft's "At the Mountains
of Madness" is an example of the former; "Survivor Type" by Stephen
King is an example of the latter.   A variation on the "just desserts"
idea that is used somewhat less often is the cruel character who gets
what he deserves but learns and grows in the process.  "Croatoan" by
Harlan Ellison is an excellent example, and this story reminded me of
that one at times.  But for that to work, Jake needs more depth, and
his fate at the end needs to be more connected to his previous life.
Since he ends up in the body of a nursing mother rat, perhaps he left
his wife because she gained too much weight while having children. Or
something more subtle and brilliant that you'll come up with.

The final problem is the hardest to solve, and perhaps if you solve
the others, this one won't really matter.  As I was reading the story,
I was acutely aware of how similar it was to many other horror
stories.  The number of rat stories I've read is beyond counting.
Limiting it to "rats in the walls" stories, the number is still beyond
counting.  That's not to say you can't write a good, original "rats in
the walls" story.  New perspectives and new twists are always
possible.  But I didn't feel there was enough new here.  I knew the
rats and/or the employees were going to come after Jake when he
ordered that the rats be killed.  I knew that the free treatment the
spa offered him was going to be his undoing.  I guessed that they
would put him in the roof for the rats to eat.  The surprise was that
he actually found himself in the body of the mother rat and that he
mourned for her (his) children.  Since this ending seemed random,
rather than inevitable, and it didn't particularly resonate with
Jake's character, it wasn't enough to make this rat story stand out
strongly from all the rest.  That ending needs to carry much more
emotion and significance.  Without that, it's a fun story and pretty
well written, but feels too familiar.

I think that if you can deal with the other weaknesses I've discussed,
the feeling of familiarity may fade away as this story becomes more
fully realized.

I hope my comments are helpful. Good luck with the revisions!

--Jeanne Cavelos
Editor of THE MANY FACES OF VAN HELSING
http://www.odysseyworkshop.org/



| - - REVIEWER HONOR ROLL - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - |

The Reviewer Honor Roll area of the workshop recognizes members who
have given useful, insightful reviews.  After all, that's what makes
the workshop go, so we want to give great reviewers a little
well-earned recognition!

If you got a really useful review and would like to add the reviewer
to the Reviewer Honor Roll, use our online honor-roll nomination form
-- log in and link to it from the bottom of the Reviewer Honor
Roll page at http://sff.onlinewritingworkshop.com/honorroll.shtml.
Your nomination will appear on the first day of the next calendar
month.

The Honor Roll will show all November nominations beginning December 1.
Meanwhile, here are two advance highlights from this month:

Reviewer: Linda Steele
Submission: Vigilante Ch. 7 by Lindsay B
Submitted by: Lindsay B
Nominator's Comments: "Linda is a great reviewer because she tells you
what she's thinking as she reads, which includes raising questions,
pointing out problems, and praising anything that deserves it. She
focuses on plot, setting, and character motivations, which is really
what I need during this early draft, so it's greatly appreciated. I
know my story will be much stronger for her help. She's an asset to
the workshop. Thanks, Linda!"

Reviewer: Clayton Deschamps
Submission: Corrigan's Exchange by Regina Patton
Submitted by: Regina Patton
Nominator's Comments: "I so appreciate when reviewers don't hold back
what they really think. Clay pinpointed so many things that were
troubling me about this story, and he gave some helpful hints for what
might be done about it. This story will become something better
because of his feedback. What more could I ask?"

Reviewers nominated to the honor roll during October include: Sandie
Bergen, Susan Elizabeth Curnow, Bonnie Freeman, Cathy Freeze, Jim
Giammatteo, Barbara Gordon, Jeanne Haskin (2), DeAnna Knippling,
Douglas Kolacki, B. E. Laing, Will McIntosh, Heather Nagey, Larry
Pinaire, Valerie Sanders, Jean Seok, Ursula Warnecke.

We congratulate them all for their excellent reviews. All nominations
received in October can be still found through November 30 at:
http://sff.onlinewritingworkshop.com/honorroll.shtml


| - - PUBLICATION ANNOUNCEMENTS - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - |

We can't announce them if you don't let us know! So drop Charlie a
line at support@sff.onlinewritingworkshop.com whenever you have good
news to share.

OWW Staff Sales and Publications:

Charles Coleman Finlay sold "Hail, Conductor" to _Talebones_.  He
thanks Marsha Sisolak, chance m, and everyone else who reviewed it
when he workshopped it.

OWW Member Sales and Publications:

Two cool. Leah Bobet sold two stories to _On Spec_
(http://www.onspec.ca) in two days! One is the briefly named "Metis"
and the other is the longishly named "And its Noise as the Noise in a
Dream; And its Depths as the Roots of the Sea."  Leah says, "Thanks
for both (squished together!) go out to Celia Marsh, Elizabeth Bear,
Jaime Voss, Cath Emery, Meredith L. Patterson, Jeremy Tolbert, Kyri
Freeman, Simon Owens, Christiana Ellis, Kathryn Allen, and Rebecca
Willman for their reviews when both stores were workshopped."

Sue Curnow sold her short story "Justice" to _The Sword Review_. She
sends "Huge thanks to all of those who reviewed it on OWW."

Two cool too. Mark Fewell sold his story "Cockroachboys" to _Susurrus_
(http://www.susurrusmagazine.com) for their December issue. And you
can look for his time travel story "A Time For Every Paradox" in
_Astounding Tales_ (http://www.astoundingtales.com).

Ian Morrison sold short story "A Pile of Leaves" to _Deep Magic_
(http://www.deep-magic.net) for their November issue. He calmly
states, "This is my first sale and the help I received from OWW
members was invaluable." To which we add... "Woohoo!"

Steve Nagy sold his short story "Ye Shall Eat In Haste" to _The Third
Alternative_ (aka _Black Static_).  He informs us there was "much
jumping for joy since I like this piece and it's the prologue to the
current work in progress.  An earlier version did appear on the OWW."


| - - WORKSHOP STATISTICS - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - |

Number of members as of 10/19: 590  paying, 67 trial
Number of submissions currently online: 462
Percent of submissions with 3 or more reviews: 79%
Percent of submissions with zero reviews: 3%

Average reviews per submission (all submissions): 5.03
Estimated average review word count (all submissions):  644.37

Number of submissions in October: 351
Number of reviews in October: 1382
Ratio of reviews/submissions in October: 3.94
Estimated average word count per review in October: 703.06

Number of submissions in November to date: 200
Number of reviews in November to date: 900
Ratio of reviews/submissions in November to date: 4.50
Estimated average word count per review in November to date: 721.20

Total number of under-reviewed submissions: 36 (7.8% of total subs)
Number over 3 days old with 0 reviews: 5
Number over 1 week old with under 2 reviews: 12
Number over 2 weeks old with under 3 reviews: 19


| - - FEEDBACK - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - |


Got a helpful tip for your fellow members?  A trick or hint for
submitting or reviewing, for what to put in your author's comments,
for getting good reviews, or for formatting or titling your
submission?  Share it with us and we'll publish it in the next
newsletter.  Just send it to support@sff.onlinewritingworkshop.com and
we'll do the rest.

This is the last time we'll be offering two copies of Kate Wilhelm's
book STORYTELLER, along with red pencils (of course!) as prizes for
the most helpful tips/hints/advice submitted for the next newsletter,
on the subjects of:

--writing
--workshopping
--getting published

This is a useful book for writers!  So get motivated, folks, and
share some tips.

An until next month -- just write!

The Online Writing Workshop for Science Fiction, Fantasy & Horror
http://sff.onlinewritingworkshop.com
support@sff.onlinewritingworkshop.com


| - - Copyright 2005 Online Writing Workshops - - - - - - - - - - - |

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