A few times in the past few months, people at my job have asked me if I had any plans to quit my job now that I was a published author. The assumption behind this is, of course, that I am getting rich beyond my wildest dreams now that my name shows up on amazon.com. I can hear you snickering: I know you know that´s a silly thing to think, because writers don´t hardly ever get rich. That´s okay. I don´t mind being poor. I´d still like to quit my job sometime soon, because I´m not getting any younger, and because writing takes up a hell of a lot of time.
    The actual writing doesn´t bother me - that´s why there are so many of these columns littering cyberspace even though no one is reading them. I like writing. Doing it isn´t a chore, it just happens, in my spare time. The work isn´t in the writing  -it´s in the selling. Achieving my pitiful sales record has taken an incredible amount of focused, tireless effort that continues to this day. It ain´t all groupies and free booze, kids. As a matter of fact, I have yet to meet any groupies, and I can´t remember the last time someone bought me a drink.

  IT's ALL ABOUT VOLUME, BABY: Let´s see, being as generous as I possibly can, here is what I´ve `sold´ throughout my writing career, which we´ll liberally say started in 1986: nine short stories, two novels, and a comic-book script (with Jeof Vita). That ain´t bad, although one of those novels never actually published. Still, we´re talking 15 years of effort for a grand total of 12 sales. Granted, the novel and the comic-book paid pretty well, so that was nice. But still, that´s it? It might lead you to think that I must take it pretty easy when it comes to marketing myself, but that isn´t true. Since 1986, I have submitted 657 stories to various magazines, which means I´ve sold less than 2% of everything I´ve tried to sell. I sent my novel Lifers to 44 publishers, of which exactly one liked it enough to buy it (but of course it only takes one). In short, these days I average about 80 short story submissions a year (which isn´t bad, considering it usually takes an average of 4 weeks for a magazine to get back to me with a rejection).
    Plus, I put out The Inner Swine four times a year, keep this freaking web site up and running, and write.
    How much do I write? Let´s look at the year 2000 as representative: In 2000 I wrote 20 short stories, the first draft of a novel, 240 pages of The Inner Swine, endless web page updates, and a few scattered poems I´m too embarrassed to show anyone. I don´t know if that´s a lot compared to other writers, but I think it´s a lot. It feels like a lot, anyway.

   IN THE AGE OF CHIMPANZEES I WAS A MONKEY: The submissions are, of course, mostly mind-numbingly repetitive work. First, I have to scan the magazines I know of for one that I don´t already have a submission at. Then I have to match a story to that magazine: something that fits its style and that hasn´t been there before (and rejected) or at least hasn´t been there (and rejected) too recently. Then I have to write a cover letter, address an envelope and a SASE (self-addressed stamped envelope, for the rejection-to-come), make photocopies of all the stories (back in 1986 I got a rejection letter from some pompous ass who traumatized me by saying that he didn´t "trust" photocopies and wanted submission of originals. Ass.) pack it all up and take it to the post office. Last year I did that 90 times. Sometimes finding a new magazine to send an older story to is maddening - especially sci-fi stories. The sci-fi fiction market is as dead as they come, and finding a new place to send a story is like finding a new planet to move to. 
    And once you send those stories out, you have to keep track of them, because anywhere from a week (which I call Boomerang Submissions - the ones they hate on sight and can´t wait to give back to you) to, believe it or not, a year will go by before you get an answer out of the magazine. Sometimes you never get a response. Usually at the six month mark I´ll write a letter or an email asking about my submission, and often you get no response from the magazine at all, or you´ll get a virtual shrug of the shoulders and an apology because they have no idea if they ever received your story or not. I´m actually very, very lazy about following up on these submissions, but it´s still a lot of extra work.
    Novel submissions are different, of course. A year or two will go by in-between novel submissions, for me  -which may be a poor work ethic, but I´ve had little success with books for whatever reason and so back-burner novels all the time. When I decide to try and sell a novel, I have to a) prepare a sample chapter if it isn´t in final form yet, b) write a generic cover letter, c) write a synopsis of the plot (harder than you think), d) find publishers who will read unsolicited manuscripts from unagented writers who match up with the subject matter and genre of the novel, and e) put it all together with addressed envelopes and SASEs and mail the things out. Instead of a constant push of effort, like short-stories, novels are quick red-level explosions of effort to push out 20-50 queries in a week. The fact that half of them will boomerang right back at me in two weeks doesn´t add to my enthusiasm level, either.

   WHAT I REALLY WANT TO DO IS DIRECT: Trying to be a professional writer is not just writing a lot and crossing your fingers, and you don´t run into literary agents at bars, at least not ones who actually want to read your crappy stuff. Most famous writers will tell similar stories: lots of writing, but endless amounts of submitting, querying, small sales, and more submitting. Now you´re probably wondering how or why I manage to write these columns all the time. So do I. Especially since none of you bastards are reading them.
    So why bother with all these submissions, if they're so much work? Why not just self-publish and to hell with all the literati? Well, it certainly ain't the money, because these days even moderately successful writers make about enough to live on the street. And it certainly isn't fame, because aside from your big-time famous writers (King, Updike, Grisham, et al) there are no famous writers. You can win prizes, sell a million books, and still walk down the street unnoticed, bubba.
    I don't submit for the money or the supposed fame. The final hurdle all writers have to get past, the line that separates a writer from a hobbyist, is getting the objective opinions of the world. This requires you to get someone who has no stake in being nice to you to read your drivel, and get some sort of opinion back. Every writer hits the point where they've shown samples of their amazing work to every friend, family member, and former high-school teacher who will agree to read it, and at this point it becomes obvious that none of the above will really and truly give you an objective opinion about your work. You need strangers. You also need strangers who have at least implicitly invited you to show them your work, strangers you can reasonably expect to actually bother reading it, and strangers who have some level of knowledge of writing.
    In short, you need magazine editors and book publishers, natch. When they pay me some nominal amount of money to print a story of mine, or when they purchase the right to manufacture and distribute-for-profit a novel of mine, that's fantastic, but what I mainly get out of all those submissions is someone reading and commenting on my work. I'll take their money, sure, when it comes, but I'm often just as happy with their feedback.
    Oh well. With that attitude it's no wonder I'm broke. New column in about two weeks. In the meantime, please feel free to drop me a note.