I've been buying vinyl LPs on ebay for a couple or three years. I have yet to buy a new LP - they are far too expensive; I can buy them in Dublin cheaper and that's a real indictment. My limit is about ten euro, including postage. So I need to be patient and take lots of risks. So far it's working out okay. I've bought lots of old LPs - stuff I never owned back in the day or replacements for long lost gems.
I grew up buying my books second hand. For two reasons: one, I didn't have money to buy new books and needed to trade the stuff I didn't want (or my dad took his eye off) in order to feed my habit. Two, none of the REAL bookshops stocked much SF and none of them carried American comics. So I've still got a taste for second hand bookshops - I guess it's the thrill of the chase. You walk into an ordinary bookshop and you have a vast choice, but in a second hand shop you have to search thoroughly and be lucky and smart to find decent books. I suppose buying Lps on ebay replicates that feeling.
Today, even though it's Good Friday and the pubs are shut, the postman came and delivered to LPs. Today I got the worst LP of my short ebay career. Did you know that some surface scuffing translates into 'This was used extensively as an ashtray in the seventies and has been buried in my garden for the past decade.'Light marking on the cover apparently means, 'You may recognise the contents from the evidence of the cover, if you have training in forensics and a really good imagination.
Still, the second LP looked just as bad but it played perfectly. However the problem is that the first LP is one I never got around to buying back when: Dark Side of the Moon, would you believe? And anything quiet is drowned out by the sound of frying chips (cooking French Fries, to our colonial cousins) and Money turns out to be about one minute fifteen long due to skipping.
I guess I'll simply have to roll them dice again and hope for a better result. Still, it's my first snake eyes.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Translation News
Despite the Irish Art's Council's continued disinterest in the written word in general and Sf in particular we continue to forge ahead in our efforts to bring fiction from other languages into English (or as close to it as we can get in Ireland). Through the good offices of UK author Colin Harvey, I may have discovered a way to circumvent the Arts Council and get to the EU directly for funding for translations and perhaps also for some aunthologies. If anyone reading this has any interest in European fiction as a writer or publisher they should contact me. If you comment on this piece I can probably track you down, or you could leave a comment on the Albedo One fan page on Facebook.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
RTFM
For both of you not familiar with computer speak, the title refers to the advice that used to be given to all computer nubes: read the $%^king manual. This sage advice applies to virtually every walk of life but nowhere is it more relevant than to the writer submitting on spec.
Firstly you must remember that every time you submit a story you are entering a contest with every other poor eegit who has sent a submission to that particular market during that particular reading period. In many ways this is like a beauty contest and you need to put your best foot forward right from the beginning. So, even before an editor reads your piece he (or she) will have begun to judge you.
So how many ways are there to get it wrong before your one-man judge, jury (and more than likely, executioner) even gets to word one? Firstly, as you may remember from a previous blog (ELP, read it now, if you haven’t already) there is the cover letter. Nonexistent and it is unlikely the editor will bother to read your submission at all. Too short is forgivable, too long shows a lack of consideration for the poor, overworked, underpaid sap who is already reading far too much for far too little reward.
So what information does the editor require? And here I refer you to the title of this piece which now transmutes into RTFG(uidelines). That’s where the editor will have set out the information that you need in order to SUCCESSFULLY submit to his market. Take a moment to jump away from this blog to check out a random sample of guidelines on, for example, ralan.com. Many of them will be similar but there are many more who insert things like – submit in this exact format or your submission will be binned without being read – and that exact format may include things like file extension (.RTF), font (Times New Roman or Courier), format of manuscript (often detailed minutely, such as line gaps between each paragraph or two spaces after a full stop. You just never know what will be the trigger that will prevent an editor from reading all the way through your story. And if he doesn’t read all the way through then he won’t be buying it.
One of the magazines that ploughs a similar, though professional, furrow to Albedo One, regularly receives 800 submissions per month. They likely average out at about 6000 words each. Do the maths. The readers at this magazine are just waiting for the first excuse they can find to stop reading and reject your story; if that’s in the cover letter or in the formatting so much the better. It is your job to make it beautiful enough to be read, at least cosmetically and by their standards, so that if it fails to please it is because it is a crap story. And at least if you follow the guidelines you will be guaranteed that your story will be judged fairly and on its own intrinsic merits. Which means you will learn from each submission. It might only be that this particular editor dislikes your work, your style or has no taste in fiction.
Firstly you must remember that every time you submit a story you are entering a contest with every other poor eegit who has sent a submission to that particular market during that particular reading period. In many ways this is like a beauty contest and you need to put your best foot forward right from the beginning. So, even before an editor reads your piece he (or she) will have begun to judge you.
So how many ways are there to get it wrong before your one-man judge, jury (and more than likely, executioner) even gets to word one? Firstly, as you may remember from a previous blog (ELP, read it now, if you haven’t already) there is the cover letter. Nonexistent and it is unlikely the editor will bother to read your submission at all. Too short is forgivable, too long shows a lack of consideration for the poor, overworked, underpaid sap who is already reading far too much for far too little reward.
So what information does the editor require? And here I refer you to the title of this piece which now transmutes into RTFG(uidelines). That’s where the editor will have set out the information that you need in order to SUCCESSFULLY submit to his market. Take a moment to jump away from this blog to check out a random sample of guidelines on, for example, ralan.com. Many of them will be similar but there are many more who insert things like – submit in this exact format or your submission will be binned without being read – and that exact format may include things like file extension (.RTF), font (Times New Roman or Courier), format of manuscript (often detailed minutely, such as line gaps between each paragraph or two spaces after a full stop. You just never know what will be the trigger that will prevent an editor from reading all the way through your story. And if he doesn’t read all the way through then he won’t be buying it.
One of the magazines that ploughs a similar, though professional, furrow to Albedo One, regularly receives 800 submissions per month. They likely average out at about 6000 words each. Do the maths. The readers at this magazine are just waiting for the first excuse they can find to stop reading and reject your story; if that’s in the cover letter or in the formatting so much the better. It is your job to make it beautiful enough to be read, at least cosmetically and by their standards, so that if it fails to please it is because it is a crap story. And at least if you follow the guidelines you will be guaranteed that your story will be judged fairly and on its own intrinsic merits. Which means you will learn from each submission. It might only be that this particular editor dislikes your work, your style or has no taste in fiction.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Big Hole
Having had a week to think about my initial reaction to the Grand Cayon I am now ready, upon mature reflection, to share my views.
We went to Tucson for a gemshow. It is in the middle of a desert. We brought summer wear as every day on our previous visits (eight in the past ten years) it was about seventy degrees farenheit. This time it rained. This time we had arranged a couple of days off to do tourist stuff - like the Canyon. And this time it rained on us. Twice. And it was cold.
Now call me ignorant, 'cos I am, but I thought the Canyon was a hole in the ground. But it turns out to be over seven thousand feet up int he mountains. And the weather was bad. Seven thousand feet up in the mountains there was three feet of snow, so we were told. We'd need cold weather clothes, we were told. Have you ever tried to buy an overcoat in the desert? Not easy, believe me. We spent most a day searching, but finally we found a couple of warm jackets.
Anyway we got coats and went to the Canyon. The snow was there. Three feet deep. And the sun was out. And the temperature was about seventy. Everyone was in tee shirts. We abandoned the coats. And our sweaters. Kept our shirts on. Not everyone did.
So, I saw the Canyon. It's a big hole in the ground, high up in the mountains. Very impressive. But I saw enough in ten minutes. Still, Stacey enjoyed it and took loads of photos.
At least I don't have to go back.
We went to Tucson for a gemshow. It is in the middle of a desert. We brought summer wear as every day on our previous visits (eight in the past ten years) it was about seventy degrees farenheit. This time it rained. This time we had arranged a couple of days off to do tourist stuff - like the Canyon. And this time it rained on us. Twice. And it was cold.
Now call me ignorant, 'cos I am, but I thought the Canyon was a hole in the ground. But it turns out to be over seven thousand feet up int he mountains. And the weather was bad. Seven thousand feet up in the mountains there was three feet of snow, so we were told. We'd need cold weather clothes, we were told. Have you ever tried to buy an overcoat in the desert? Not easy, believe me. We spent most a day searching, but finally we found a couple of warm jackets.
Anyway we got coats and went to the Canyon. The snow was there. Three feet deep. And the sun was out. And the temperature was about seventy. Everyone was in tee shirts. We abandoned the coats. And our sweaters. Kept our shirts on. Not everyone did.
So, I saw the Canyon. It's a big hole in the ground, high up in the mountains. Very impressive. But I saw enough in ten minutes. Still, Stacey enjoyed it and took loads of photos.
At least I don't have to go back.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Endearingly Irregular
I would hate to be predictable but my on-again off-again love affair with blogging continues at the same pace as ever. Except this time I've got an excuse for abandoning ship temporarily: I'm off to Tucson, Arizona on business. Thankfully, Stacey is coming with me this year; company is always welcome on these trips. Apart from buying gems and semi-precious beads we will be taking a side trip to The Grand Canyon. I've been going to the Tucson show for over a decade and this will be my first tourist venture. So, I'll be away from the blog for about twelve days.
Maybe I'll have something interesting to say when I get back, although mostly I only get energised by things that piss me off. However, I've read a couple of wonderful submissions to the magazine lately and one of the Aeon Award winners is one of those stories that I will still be talking about in ten years time: the sort of story that makes you say, "Shit! I wish I'd written that." Keep an eye on the magazine and see if you can spot it.
By the way, I bought the new Eels album (End Times) on the day of release. It inspired me to check out Shootenanny again. Maybe it's time for me to reassess that one. I may have unfairly consigned it to the scrap heap. I'm still waiting for something from Mark Everitt to equal Daisies of the Galaxy. For me.
Maybe I'll have something interesting to say when I get back, although mostly I only get energised by things that piss me off. However, I've read a couple of wonderful submissions to the magazine lately and one of the Aeon Award winners is one of those stories that I will still be talking about in ten years time: the sort of story that makes you say, "Shit! I wish I'd written that." Keep an eye on the magazine and see if you can spot it.
By the way, I bought the new Eels album (End Times) on the day of release. It inspired me to check out Shootenanny again. Maybe it's time for me to reassess that one. I may have unfairly consigned it to the scrap heap. I'm still waiting for something from Mark Everitt to equal Daisies of the Galaxy. For me.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Rude, Thoughtless and Annoying (Almost as bad as ELP)
Over the past seventeen years I have been sent a lot (technically more than two, but a lot more than two... and so on) of fiction submissions for Albedo One magazine. From early on we accepted email submissions because we are out on the borders of civilization (Ireland) and contacting us by post is very expensive. To illustrate the postage problem it costs about five times more postage for us to send out a subscriber's copy of the magazine than it does for Galaxies in France, more than twice the cost of printing an issue, even with all the ancillary costs added on. The postage costs also meant that we were getting a small number of submissions per month (less than a hundred) and we felt more submissions would help to raise the quality of fiction in the magazine. Accepting emails immediately increased the number of submissions and has genuinely contributed to an increase in the quality of stories we have to choose from.
However, I have a couple of observations about email submissions. And both of them, in my mind, relate to care and attention.
The first point is that there is a significantly higher acceptance rate of stories submitted by snail mail. What this suggests to me is that some writers, a lot in fact, take less care with their stories if they are submitting by email. Or maybe they will only send stories they are more confident about by snail mail. Or perhaps the ease of submission means writers are not truly polishing their stories before sending them out. I don't know. It's just a thought backed up by little in the way of evidence. However, I'd be interested in hearing from other editors who accept both snail- and e-mail submissions. Is there a similar correlation of quality in your submitted stories?
My second observation refers directly to the title of this piece (though not Emerson, Lake and Palmer who were merely due a dig) and is aimed directly at writers.
Of late I have been getting a lot (not as much as the previous lots but a significant number all the same) of stories sent by email without even a Dear Sir or Hi at the front, never mind anything resembling a cover letter or even a request that we might read the enclosed story. I have even been sent blank emails with an attachment. These I delete instantly as we state in our guidelines that we do not currently accept attachments. But I'm thinking that in future if writers aren't even bothered to say Hi, or introduce themselves, or show even the slightest sign of investing in the social contract that for centuries has ruled communication, I think I'm going to dispose of these emails also. There is a statistic which suggests we won't be missing any great works of genius as to date none of these unlovely submissions has made it through the process.
So maybe rude equals untalented or maybe the writers who have time to observe the niceties of correspondence are also the ones who take care over their stories. I would be interested in comments from writers and editors alike because, really, I'm just thinking out loud here.
But I am reminded of a writer (in a film) who couldn't understand why his repeatedly frantic letters regarding publication of his book were being ignored. In the end he decided to write a letter which could not be ignored. It began: Dear Bastard...
I sometimes think that no greeting at all is simply shorthand for this.
However, I have a couple of observations about email submissions. And both of them, in my mind, relate to care and attention.
The first point is that there is a significantly higher acceptance rate of stories submitted by snail mail. What this suggests to me is that some writers, a lot in fact, take less care with their stories if they are submitting by email. Or maybe they will only send stories they are more confident about by snail mail. Or perhaps the ease of submission means writers are not truly polishing their stories before sending them out. I don't know. It's just a thought backed up by little in the way of evidence. However, I'd be interested in hearing from other editors who accept both snail- and e-mail submissions. Is there a similar correlation of quality in your submitted stories?
My second observation refers directly to the title of this piece (though not Emerson, Lake and Palmer who were merely due a dig) and is aimed directly at writers.
Of late I have been getting a lot (not as much as the previous lots but a significant number all the same) of stories sent by email without even a Dear Sir or Hi at the front, never mind anything resembling a cover letter or even a request that we might read the enclosed story. I have even been sent blank emails with an attachment. These I delete instantly as we state in our guidelines that we do not currently accept attachments. But I'm thinking that in future if writers aren't even bothered to say Hi, or introduce themselves, or show even the slightest sign of investing in the social contract that for centuries has ruled communication, I think I'm going to dispose of these emails also. There is a statistic which suggests we won't be missing any great works of genius as to date none of these unlovely submissions has made it through the process.
So maybe rude equals untalented or maybe the writers who have time to observe the niceties of correspondence are also the ones who take care over their stories. I would be interested in comments from writers and editors alike because, really, I'm just thinking out loud here.
But I am reminded of a writer (in a film) who couldn't understand why his repeatedly frantic letters regarding publication of his book were being ignored. In the end he decided to write a letter which could not be ignored. It began: Dear Bastard...
I sometimes think that no greeting at all is simply shorthand for this.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Bah, humbug anyone?
It's the early minutes of Christmas day here in Ireland. I would just like to say how grateful I am for everything we (my family) have. The Christmas tree is almost invisible behind the wall of presents my wife has bought for everyone. I'm looking forward to my daughters coming over tomorrow (later today); having the family together, if only for a little while.
So, although it hasn't been a wonderful year - my insurance broker is ready to disown me after four claims in three months, but he's family so I'm safe for the moment - I still have so much to be thankful for.
I hope all of you have a warm, safe and joyful Christmas.
Count your blessings.
So, although it hasn't been a wonderful year - my insurance broker is ready to disown me after four claims in three months, but he's family so I'm safe for the moment - I still have so much to be thankful for.
I hope all of you have a warm, safe and joyful Christmas.
Count your blessings.
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