Scrivner

I admit it.   I’m a published writer who’s not really published.  At least not according to many people.  Never mind that I was nominated into the shortlist for the top 50 short fiction writers worldwide, or that I’m in not one, not two, but three journals of the tangible paper variety, that I’ve been a semi-finalist for a contest to appear on a television show that features writers, not once but twice (see also ‘always a bridesmaid’), nevermind that I had to apply and be interviewed for my short story university class taught by one of Canad’as top playrights, or that this experience springboarded into a writer’s class with the Saskatchewan Writer’s Guild(this was my teacher).  Oh no.  I know not what I do.  I am not really published.

Here are the qualifications of being published (as far as I can tell):  To be really published you must:

• get paid for your work.  This is always the number one priority regardless of what people ask about.  Also, the more money you make for your work, the more published you are.
• have something that people can hold or buy, i.e. must be on paper.  This, for me, is most common question.  My answer usually makes point number one (above) irrevelant, but you know people still want to ask.  The majority of my work is published (yes, published) online journals, or E-zines (see Vanity bar to the right) without payment.  This is not easy!  I believe that the perception is that online material is junk, not one reads it, or that it’s just some computer geek’s version of a garage band – anyone can join.  Uh, no.  I’d explain more but if you don’t get it, you won’t get it.
• someone has heard of your name or knows of your work, i.e. if you might happen to be either John Grisham or Stephen King in disguise.  Yeah, Nora Roberts is my pen name and I go to work as a receptionist riding downtown on the stinky train everyday for kicks.  You know, staying in touch with the common people.  Whatever.  No really, you don’t believe my name is Danielle Steel?  It is!  Gaa.

There is one definition for being a writer.  You write. 

There is one definition for being published.  Your written work is available to the public.  See also graffiti artists.

Huh.  Who knew?  I’m really published after all.  Now, where’d I put my purple spraypaint?

Every once in awhile you ave to assume that the ‘who’ of you gets buried beneath massive amounts of blog postings and there comes times for a reminder.  Or a commercial.  Or whatever.

The best looking online arts & literary journal in showbiz is currently in a reading period for the winter issue.  Yours truly is the flasher…er, I mean Flash Fiction Editor.  So if you have a story between 100-500 words (what some may call a postcard story, some may call micro fiction, and some may call per genius), submit it! 

My fellow poetry editor, Pat Carrington, gets the bulk of submissions but I am convinced that someday I be able to blow him a raspberry by having more.  All in all, this bodes well for you, the next fiction-writing champion!  Being the super-hero you are, you will know to read past issues to determine our style and you’ll read the submission instructions so your Email doesn’t get lost or sent to spam.  See, just as you’ve always been told – to be a good writer, you really need to be a good reader.  The proof is in the pudding.

(Funny side note - before posting this blog, I did a spell check to make sure i’m not completely embarassing my editor self.  The word “blog” is not included as a real word in this blog’s dictionary.  There’s a definition of ironic.)