Lessons learned from a year-and-a-half of submitting short stories

So, in August of 2016, after five long years of slogging through the barren wasteland of my first novel, I sat down at the kitchen table and actually read it cover-to-cover.

And nearly passed out.

Several critique partner reviews confirmed my fears. The novel was an unsalvageable wreck. Sure, the writing was good enough, even great in spots, but the nonsensical plot and bland characters made for a smoldering dumpster fire of a book. A hot mess I promptly banished to my desk drawer before indulging in copious amounts of alcohol and self-pity.

Fast forward a month, and I decided I didn’t have it in me to embark on another soul-crushing novel. Especially a failed one. I felt lost. Hopeless. When I confessed this to a writer friend, he suggested I try my hand at short stories — something I’d never been interested in before. I mean real authors write novels, right? Short stories — meh, not so much. I’d always considered them to be the bastard step-children of the novel, exiled to the basement, invited out to mingle with the rest of the family during the holidays…maybe — if guests weren’t over. So, it was with tentative fingers that I punched out my first short, then my second, and a third…and was hooked.

A year-and-a-half later here are my stats:

• Total submissions. 141 to 107 different publications.
• Stories accepted for publication. Three (2%). One of which was not published as the anthology was subsequently cancelled.
• Honorable mentions. Two (1%).
• Stories short-listed for publication. Two (1%). Neither were ultimately published.
• Personal rejections. Five (4%). These bits of positive feedback were like cool glasses of water on a scorching hot day.
• No response, AKA the submissions black hole. Seven (5%).
• Open submissions still out there…somewhere. 25 (18%), and — drum roll please…
• Form rejections: 97, or 69% of my total submissions. Include all rejections outside of honorable mentions and that percentage climbs to 79. Assume the 25 open submissions still outstanding will be rejected (and they probably will) and you get a whopping 96% rejection rate.

I should be pissed, right? But I’m not. Actually, I couldn’t be happier. Here’s why:

Writing short stories will up every aspect of your writing game. And I mean every aspect.

Think about it. How long does it really take to knock out a 4,000-word piece? (which is fairly long in the world of shorts.) A week if you focus? Two at most? Three if you really plot it out and go nuts with the prose? Listen, if you only wrote one short story per month, you would have twelve different works in a year. That’s twelve opportunities for publication. Twelve opportunities for feedback from your critique group/writing partner/writing coach/loving spouse/whatever. Twelve opportunities to figure out if you write better in first-person, present-tense or first-person past-tense. Maybe it’s third person. Maybe it’s second. Who knows? But you’ll have time to figure it out. Oh, and don’t forget about all the improvement going into your plotting, dialogue, prose, pacing and character development skills.

By the way, if you don’t have anyone reading your work and giving you constructive feedback, you’re doing yourself a disservice. Don’t be that guy/girl hunched in a dark office thinking you’re the next Shakespeare. Odds are you’re not, and you need to hear that to improve. Get yourself a coach. Or a group. Or a writing buddy. And do it ASAP. You won’t regret it.

Do you know what you like to write? Do you really?

I started out with a few literary pieces. Shot them off to The Atlantic and The New Yorker and Glimmer Train. Hell yes, my stories were good enough to be published by these literary icons.

Not so much.

After a mountain of rejections, I realized something. I didn’t even enjoy the literary genre that much. Not my forte.

So, I asked myself what I really wanted to write. What genres did I already love? Psychological thrillers. Horror. Post-apocalyptic worlds. Check. All things dark with just enough light shining through to make things interesting. Yes! By all means sign me up!

A few short stories later and I nabbed an honorable mention in The Writer’s Digest Popular Fiction Awards. More than a thousand entries. I couldn’t believe it.

You can do it, too. Explore. Try new ideas. Get out of your comfort zone. You’ll be pleasantly surprised with the results.

Build credibility.

Ah, the slush pile. The dreaded river of literary garbage flowing through every editor’s office. That stagnant swamp in which your novel goes to die.

Unless it stands out.

And how will it stand out you ask? Is it the amazing plot? The acerbic wit of your protagonist? Maybe. That flawless query letter? Possibly, if you’re lucky, but remember who’s sifting through the trash. Overworked assistants. Underpaid interns. Dull-eyed college students with a trigger finger on the rejection stamp. Why should they read yours?

Having a short story published in a literary journal or anthology can tip the odds in your favor. Why? Because it’s really, really hard to get a short story published. Having done so says you’re at least halfway competent at your craft. And that will put you above 95% of the other slush pile authors.

“But I really want to write a novel!”

Sure. I get it. So do I. It’s what we all want; to unleash our inner Hemingway and rack up the next Pulitzer. But what if the brilliant thread for that award-winning novel is waiting to be revealed in your next short? Remember that twelve opportunity thing? It applies to novel ideas, too. Within each short is a living, breathing world just begging for room to expand, to grow. Characters that stand up and grab you by the shirt collar and demand you let them tell their stories. Shorts are basically well thought out brainstorming sessions. Ones you can use for your next novel.

Thicken that skin.

Rejection hurts. Until it doesn’t.

Okay, let’s be honest, it always hurts a little bit. Your first will likely sting. As will your next. And your next…and, yes, probably the next. But soon you’ll be brushing off those rejections like pesky mosquitos as you target your next publication. You’re building some backbone. Resilience, baby! Look at it like dating—each rejection gets you closer to that ever-elusive soul-mate (publication). Even better, with each rejection you get to refine your approach: improved cover letters, plot summaries that pack punch, which stories get no personal feedback (a pretty big indicator it needs revision). Keep it up long enough and you’ll get that break. It may not be your first story, or your fifth — it might not even be the seventh or eighth — but you’ll get there eventually if you just keep plowing forward.

A few submission tips.

• Let your short story rest. You don’t want to fire off your short the second you key that final word. There’s still work to be done. Let it cool off a few weeks and then give it a final scrub with fresh eyes. Better yet, let a critique partner do it, too. You’ll be surprised at how much better your story will be with a little patience.
• Avoid the shotgun approach. I’m pretty sure this has been part of my problem getting stories published. I’ve blasted them out with twelve-gauge ferocity, spraying them far and wide to as many publications as possible without regard to the kinds of stories those publications actually publish. I recently had a crazy idea and decided to read one prior to writing my story — and guess what! — it was accepted.
• Format matters. This is the easy stuff. Don’t screw it up. If you do, you’re a simple rejection. Don’t make it easy on them. Here’s a good article on proper format.
• As do cover letters and author bios. There are plenty of great examples out there. Read a few and find a professional approach that works for you. Reference my comment about the easy stuff in the prior bullet.
• Track your submissions. I use Excel and catalog the story name, the publication, the publication’s website, the submission date, the response date, the status of the story (open, rejected, accepted!!) and the editor’s name. All of this data comes in handy later on when you’re trying to remember which story you sent to which publication, who the editors are, when you should follow up on a submission, etc.
• Submit the same short to, at most, four different publications at the same time. If form rejections result — it’s time to revise. Do it, and then get it back out there. Resist the urge to fire off the same piece to fifteen different publications at once. Think about it — if the piece needs work, or even a major overhaul, you’ve already exhausted all the magazines you were interested in publishing with in the first place.

Final Thoughts

You can do this. Forget your marathon of a novel for a while. Go grab a story thread and run with it. Bang it out. Get it published!

Oh, and one more thing, did I mention I’m halfway through my next novel? I am, and after sharpening my skills on shorts this past year-and-a-half, it’s so much better this time around.

Now if I could just find time to finish it. I have too many shorts to write.

If you enjoyed this post, please consider joining my newsletter at www.calebstephensauthor.com. I would love to share my journey as an author with you in a more intimate way. (And I’ll even send you a free short story when you sign up!) Also, feel free to follow me on Twitter @cstephensauthor as well as on Goodreads, where you can check out more of my work. Happy writing!

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