Solemn Fiction Face
Sep. 24th, 2004 02:00 pmI just got another rejection letter that said that they didn't want a story because it was "too much fun."
Well, for heaven's sake, I can understand that. Who would want it to be fun? Fiction is a Serious Business, after all. This is me making my Solemn Fiction Face: ... oh, right, I don't have any photographic record of my Solemn Fiction Face. Well, trust me, it's very solemn.
This just sounds like something some loser would post in his journal: "They reject me because I'm too much fun for them, maaaaan! They're just too uptight for my funky fiction groove, maaaaaan!" But it's what they themselves wrote, and, seriously: what kind of person can write that with a straight face? Now I know, I suppose, and will attempt to only send that editor fiction no one could possibly have any fun with.
I've told several of you this: when I was little, I thought I didn't like fun. No thanks, no fun for me! I'll just go over there and have not-fun. I thought I didn't like it because every time someone's mom said, "Oh, come on! It'll be fuunnnnn!", I ended up miserable. But I grew out of it and figured out that the problem was with their definitions, not the term itself.
This book is a pretty serious thing. It has moments that I think are pure fun, because, hello!, I do not write castor oil. A few of my first-readers have talked about how they felt like they'd been kicked in the stomach after reading The Grey Road (that's my second book, for those of you who didn't buy the souvenir program at the gate), but it still has moments of people being wry or sarcastic or just silly at each other. Because that's what people do, and because I like that stuff, and because it belonged in there. I'm the author, and sometimes that means it's my job to make you smile while I'm kicking your solar plexus. You can thank me later.
Writing for adults, I'm telling you. It's for the birds. Don't know why I do it, except of course that this book right here, it is not a YA, and it's what I had to write. So. Back to Chapter 43, wherein the main character falls over unexpectedly. Unexpectedly for me, I mean. The reader, it is to be hoped, will not be particularly surprised.
Too much fun. Good grief.
Well, for heaven's sake, I can understand that. Who would want it to be fun? Fiction is a Serious Business, after all. This is me making my Solemn Fiction Face: ... oh, right, I don't have any photographic record of my Solemn Fiction Face. Well, trust me, it's very solemn.
This just sounds like something some loser would post in his journal: "They reject me because I'm too much fun for them, maaaaan! They're just too uptight for my funky fiction groove, maaaaaan!" But it's what they themselves wrote, and, seriously: what kind of person can write that with a straight face? Now I know, I suppose, and will attempt to only send that editor fiction no one could possibly have any fun with.
I've told several of you this: when I was little, I thought I didn't like fun. No thanks, no fun for me! I'll just go over there and have not-fun. I thought I didn't like it because every time someone's mom said, "Oh, come on! It'll be fuunnnnn!", I ended up miserable. But I grew out of it and figured out that the problem was with their definitions, not the term itself.
This book is a pretty serious thing. It has moments that I think are pure fun, because, hello!, I do not write castor oil. A few of my first-readers have talked about how they felt like they'd been kicked in the stomach after reading The Grey Road (that's my second book, for those of you who didn't buy the souvenir program at the gate), but it still has moments of people being wry or sarcastic or just silly at each other. Because that's what people do, and because I like that stuff, and because it belonged in there. I'm the author, and sometimes that means it's my job to make you smile while I'm kicking your solar plexus. You can thank me later.
Writing for adults, I'm telling you. It's for the birds. Don't know why I do it, except of course that this book right here, it is not a YA, and it's what I had to write. So. Back to Chapter 43, wherein the main character falls over unexpectedly. Unexpectedly for me, I mean. The reader, it is to be hoped, will not be particularly surprised.
Too much fun. Good grief.
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Date: 2004-09-24 12:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 12:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 01:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 01:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 01:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 01:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 01:18 pm (UTC)Pamela
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Date: 2004-09-24 01:18 pm (UTC)Pamela
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Date: 2004-09-24 01:21 pm (UTC)Aren't you glad we got that cleared up? Honestly, some people's former grad students.
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Date: 2004-09-24 01:32 pm (UTC)Uh, yeah. Hm.
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Date: 2004-09-24 01:32 pm (UTC)Sheesh. :)
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Date: 2004-09-24 02:00 pm (UTC)oh, at least you aren't getting the "this story/you are all kinds of insane" rejections. well ok, i kinda like being called insane, but that's just because i am perverse.
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Date: 2004-09-24 03:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 04:09 pm (UTC)Ha! Save that quote!
Trent
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Date: 2004-09-24 07:36 pm (UTC)Huh?
Date: 2004-09-24 09:25 pm (UTC)I want to know what magazines publish stuff that is Fun, because I am tired of the depressing stuff.
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Date: 2004-09-24 10:19 pm (UTC)I think that some folks are too into the "art is Very Serious Business" shit, and don't actually consider that things should be enjoyed for being enjoyable!
I mean, Shakespeare's stuff can be quite funny! (Especially Romeo and Juliet...but then, I have a sick sense of humor.) And Charles Dickens certainly had quite the sense of humor. Certainly Jane Austen was no stick in the mud...
Oi. I blame the schools.
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Date: 2004-09-25 05:39 am (UTC)I blame the schools, too. Not everybody's freshman honors English teacher croaked "bullshit" in a frog voice when reading the appropriate play. Poor things.
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Date: 2004-09-25 06:26 am (UTC)