Short story writing
Anthologies are a good market for short story writers
Rebecca Lloyd began writing short stories for publication in 1999. Her work has appeared in journals, anthologies and magazines in the UK, Canada, and USA, including horror anthology collection Read by Dawn: Volume 3, available from Amazon. Rebecca runs Creative Writing courses at the Grant Bradley Gallery and at Borders in Bristol, UK.
There was a time when story writers could live off their craft. This was common in the Victorian era, when there was no TV or radio for entertainment. The written word was vital then, but sadly this is no longer the case.
The days are long gone since it was possible to make a living by writing stories. But a serious writer of novels, stories or poetry doesn’t set out to make money from writing fiction in the first place.
Should it happen that a writer can make a living from writing, that is fantastic, but the intent should be to perfect the form and stay true to the inner voice. Writing is a form of art, not a business enterprise.
Everything you write comes from your own experience on some level. Short story writing gives us the chance to examine different aspects of human life.
I first started to write things down in a very remote place in Tanzania, an incredibly remote mountain village. The village was set so high on the mountain that sometime on the second floor of the hospital where I worked, I would walk through cloud.
I had an educational background in anthropology behind me and was looking at everything through those eyes. I was completely fascinated by the people I’d found myself amongst, and by the remarkable tales they told me. Nothing was normal. I had one of the best conversations of my life while sitting in a guava tree chatting with one of the locals.
I kept journals and notes and that led to my first works of fiction. What else could I do with all that information? Short story writing is about examining different aspects of human life; you explore. Out of what you hear or experience, you create a story, and transform it into something different.
When I got back to the UK, I chose to live in the East End of London, because it’s somewhere where people are through circumstance, poverty mainly, obliged to live their lives openly – you don’t find that same openness in communities where people are safe and comfortable and have money.
When I’d established myself in the East End, I began to write fiction in earnest. But it was a long time before I started submitting stories to magazines. You have to recognise the point at which your work has become publishable, or at least try to guess it, and then take your chances.
My first published story appeared in Mslexia in 1999. Since then I have been published in ezines and magazines in Canada, USA, UK and New Zealand. Most of these are still traceable online.
In 2002 I had a further three stories published in print magazines. In 2003, I had no single stories published, though an American publisher showed interest in one of my short story collections. I had two stories published in 2004, and then five more in 2005, and one in 2006. I had four stories published in 2007, and won the inaugural annual Bristol Short Story Prize in 2008.
Until recently, I would get up very early, maybe 5am or 6am, and work from anything between two to four hours. Recently, I haven’t been getting up so early, but still the morning is for writing. It’s not so much the amount of time spent writing, but knowing when the energy is beginning to leave the words, and then stopping.
If I’m stuck on a piece of writing, I’m likely to be thinking about it while I go about doing other things, or making notes to myself about it.
When you’re not actually involved in a writing project either in your mind or on paper, it’s a frightening feeling. In the back of your mind there’s a deep fear that you’ll never write again. But a bit of fear and anxiety isn’t bad. It helps you to stay sharp. Writing is something you can never become complacent about. You can always do something better than last time, and you’re always learning.
A large number of university courses, degrees and MAs in short story writing have been introduced in recent years. The age range, backgrounds and motivations are very broad in my classes.
But though story-writing courses are on the increase, the market is shrinking in the UK, and even in Canada and America, where the short story markets are traditionally very strong, short stories as a medium are beginning to fade. It’s partly because people aren’t sure what the short story is for. I recently told someone that I write short stories, and she said: “I read one of those once.”
With everyone being so busy, you’d think the opposite would happen – that people would love a piece of fiction they can read in one sitting. Attention spans are shorter than ever.
The challenges you will face will depend on your individual circumstances. The first thing is to keep faith with yourself, and believing you can do this enormously difficult thing. I’m thinking now about discipline, but this shouldn’t be a challenge, just a habit.
Another big challenge is corresponding with publishers and the long wait that’s required before you hear from them, and if they are interested in your work and have spoken to you, the equally long wait before they communicate again.
There are internal and personal challenges of course, but these are happening inside your head, and are different for each of us. So, faith in yourself and patience are the two big ones.
