The Writing Thread -

Juscum

Unmistakable Serial Killer Vibe
True & Honest Fan
kiwifarms.net
I've been sending short stories around to lit mags for a few months now and my rejection letters outnumber my acceptances by a truly depressing amount. At least, I think they do. I'm not sure what the average rejection-to-acceptance ratio is, but mine is making me sad.

I'm hesitant to do heavy edits on older or finished work because I've been told one of my writing's best qualities is tone and I don't want to lose that through overediting. Rereading my own work, I find that it feels stale and predictable. Maybe that's just because I already know how it ends, I don't know.

I've noticed that a lot of magazines want you to go as diverse as you possibly can, but I'm not sure how to prevent my characters from becoming boring and token-y. I'm willing to jump through hoops to get published, but not if that means writing shitty 4kids garbage.

Any more seasoned writers with advice for me? I write non-genre, SF and speculative fiction.
 

nier

kiwifarms.net
Any more seasoned writers with advice for me? I write non-genre, SF and speculative fiction.
Can you show us some of your work? I think the only advice one could offer without seeing what you're doing would end up being vague and not very helpful.
 

Juscum

Unmistakable Serial Killer Vibe
True & Honest Fan
kiwifarms.net
Can you show us some of your work? I think the only advice one could offer without seeing what you're doing would end up being vague and not very helpful.
I am uneasy about publicly posting potentially publishable writing that may one day connect my real name and/or byline to a forum for autistics. I can PM you, though.
 
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Kari Kamiya

Dopey Mew
kiwifarms.net
I love to write, and I'm told I'm good at it, but I unfortunately rarely finish what I start if it's not a short story. I've mainly written fan fiction, but for the last several years, I have been toying around with original works, trying to come up with potential novel ideas. Currently, I have ideas for a few magical girl stories (more like magical witch, actually), but I don't know if I want to make them into a series of novels or graphic novels--I haven't fleshed them out enough to really know. I also have another magical girl idea involving a married couple who gain magical powers because the mail-order "magical girl mascot" was sent to the wrong address. At least with that one, that'd be a single novel, but I haven't really worked with that idea like with the others.

So yeah, I'm just a lazy fuck with more plot-bunnies than I can keep up with. I can't even juggle fan fiction very well, so the original works are just doomed to never get finished lol.

Well, might as well show examples of what I can do. They'll be snippets of fairly-recent one-shots I don't know when/if I'll finish them. One's for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, the other's from the middle of an Ushio and Tora one-shot, the latter which is a NSFW shipping fic involving a young woman and the titular demon beast because I'm a degenerate:

Michelangelo grew up a little when he adopted Klunk that Christmas Eve, everyone could see that even if he didn't see it for himself. It had to have been the sense of responsibility in keeping a pet, which was slightly different from his own responsibility of keeping up with training and when going topside. He had another life to watch out for, one that had to rely on him for certain needs—at least in the beginning (with a little help from April for the veterinarian visit).

Klunk was limited to the lair for the first few months, enough room for a little cat to roam around in. He took to his new home well enough, but he got more curious and more frisky with each passing day, forcing Michelangelo to watch him like a hawk until he slacked on it. After all, he was a cat, they were bound to get into things and come out unscathed. Even after being chased out of Donatello's laboratory numerous times, there was no harm done. Then as he grew, he got into places more readily.

“Mikey, can you go check on your cat?” Donatello asked from his computers when the feline's monotonous but unusually-loud meows began irritating him more-so than Raphael's music.

“He's just checking the place out,” the orange-clad turtle assured from his spot on the couch, eyes still glued to his game.

“It's been three months. I think he knows this place inside-and-out at this point.”

“Y'sure about that? We're still finding new holes and tunnels, and we've been here longer.”

Donatello raised an eye ridge at the comment, and Klunk's meows got lower, but not to a quieter state. “Then do you know which hole he's found himself in?”

“Uh...” Pausing and putting the controller down, he glanced over with a frown, listening intently. At the next cry, he got to his feet and stared up at the walls, worry creasing his brows. “Klunk? Where're you at, bud?”

Raphael poked his head out of the garage, a dirty rag clutched in hand. “If yer lookin' fer Klunk, I'm hearin' 'im through the air ducts.”

“He's what!”

“Weren'cha payin' attention?” he scoffed. “Ya gotta keep an eye on the little furball, or he'll bring this place down with 'im.”

“That's definitely something a pet of Mikey's would do,” Donatello agreed, returning to his work.

Running to the nearest vent, he cupped his mouth to call, “Klu-uuunk! You in there?”

Face-palming, Raphael corrected, “In here, Mikey,” and slipped back into the garage, his brother hurrying after him. He looked around as he side-stepped into the middle of the room, whipping his head back at the next meow to take in the air duct above them.

“How long has he been in there?”

“Shell if I know,” the emerald turtle huffed, returning to his Shell Cycle and radio. “I did hear some scrapin' not that long ago, but I jus' thought it was a rat.”

“Why didn't you check?”

“He's not my responsibility.”

Leaping up for the duct, Michelangelo removed the grill to crawl inside for the far wall. Klunk hung there high up like a spiderweb, thin legs stretched and claws caught into the aluminum tubing, eyes wide, and tail and whiskers bristled. A small shriek of distress came from the turtle at the sight.

“Klunk! What happened, boy?!” He reached out for him, the creak of the duct below his knees giving him pause.

The cat yowled pitifully, limbs trembling from holding himself in place.

“Hey, Mikey, is he okay in there?” Raphael called from below.

“It's okay, Klunk, I'm right here,” he tried to coax him down, his voice a little strained. He dared to sit up higher, using his nunchaku as extra leverage as if the cat would reach for them. “Come on, boy, I'll catch you.”

Klunk didn't budge, and Michelangelo didn't want to risk scaling it himself or he'd bring the tubing down. Apologetically, he gripped it for a shake to see if it could loosen his claws. With a hiss, the animal attempted to hunch backward, which did free and drop him on his owner's face, scratching him as he bounded for the exit. A yell of surprise sounded from Raphael, as was the tell-tell crash of the Shell Cycle being knocked over.

Wincing, the youngest made his way out, swinging out of reach from his brother. “Sorry, Raph!” he quickly said before ducking out.

MIIIKEY!”

Michelangelo caught sight of the bushy tail disappearing around a corner near their bedrooms. He lightly chuckled to himself and stretched as he glanced over at a concerned Donatello. “Everything's fine,” he said with some relief. “Might have to check the garage ducts later to look for holes.”

“How did Klunk get into the ventilation?” was the next question.

Shrugging, he made the move to return to his video game. “Must've taken that wrong turn at Albuquerque.”

“And he was stuck?”

“Y... Yeah, his claws got caught. He's fine now, no worries.”

Crossing his arms, Donatello breathed out a sigh. “Mikey, I think it's time to let Klunk go out.”

“No, I'm not throwing him back out on the streets!” he exclaimed defensively.

“I'm not suggesting you get rid of him, but he's a cat. He needs more room. I think you should have him leave the lair more.”

Michelangelo rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I have no problem with that, but... it's a maze out there. What if Klunk gets lost and can't find his way back?”

“I think Klunk has marked the lair enough to catch his scent even in the sewers. And since no other cats live down here, he can claim as much area as he wants for his territory.”

“Yo, Mikey, I found anotha of Klunk's 'presents',” Raphael growled, holding a dead rat by the tail at arm's length. “Do somethin' 'bout it, will ya?”

“And since he's got the taste of rat,” Donatello resumed, gesturing to it, “he may be trying to find his way out to get some more.”

The comment brought Michelangelo pause, stealing a glance toward the bedrooms. He wasn't against it, shell, it wasn't a bad idea in the slightest. If Klunk wanted to go outside more, then he'd have to figure out which entrance and exit would be best for him to use and at his own leisure. But the more he thought on it, the more he worried over him getting lost on his excursions and hunts despite Donatello's assurance he'd be fine.

Typical for someone her age, she had gained some meat on her bones, filling out over the years from a twiggy girl to a succulent woman. At first glance, there was little difference from all of the women Tora had snacked on over the centuries—after all, he didn't care what they looked like as long as they tasted good. The fat of their thighs and breasts were some of his least favorite textures for being somewhat of a pain to chew, and usually were the last portions to be swallowed if not discarded.

He hadn't partaken in human flesh since he was pinned in the basement, and as long as Ushio was alive and the “hambakkas” continued to be produced, he'd hold true to it. Mayuko stripping down was as if she was offering herself to him. She, the “dezzert” he claimed since the day he saw her, was willing to be the sacrifice and satiate his hunger, enticing as it was to just pounce on her and rip into her insides.

Though he hadn't had that thought in a long time.

She hesitated at the undergarments, nails skimming the fabric as she took deep breaths and visibly tried to relax. Tora kept still where he sat, unsure what to do to make the mood less awkward. Watching her intently not even a few feet away, he could feel the heat between them as her skin glowed pink.

“So what's the plan again?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Mayuko tensed up for a few moments, struggling to keep her eyes locked with his. “...i-it's only temporary,” she softly muttered. “It's just... pretend I'm the wife on the wedding night.”

“What am I supposed to do, start gnawing on your limbs?”

Her lips pursed. “N-No, you're not supposed to eat the bride.”

He scratched the bridge of his nose. “You sure? I see Ushio and Asako sucking face all the time. It's like a form of eating, yes?”

“You can't eat the bride!” she denied again, shaking her head.

His sarcasm had to be lost on the woman. “Then I'm afraid there's nothing much I can do.”

She sat down across from him, fists on her knees. “Just do what Ushio does with Asako.”

Tora raised a brow. He wasn't sure if it was normal for her to know about it while he would get kicked out just for showing up. It wasn't like he didn't know the point of it, though why they would be flustered in his presence confused him. Was it just a human thing?

Just do what Ushio does with Asako... huh?

Mayuko scrunched her eyes shut and bit her lip when his knuckles brushed her cheek, only to shiver when he slid over to sweep the hair back from her face. Her gaze drifted from the act as he combed it how he wanted it, the ends slightly curling. It was fine enough it was like brushing through strands of silk, forcing him to consciously make an effort to not grasp more than needed lest he were to yank them out. The more she relaxed under his touch, the more she leaned in his direction, looking like she about to fall asleep.

He dropped his hand then and there. “Tch. Are all women like this?”

As she straightened back up, her lips curled upward. “If we feel loved... yes.”

“If that's the case, why aren't you dragging me about getting me to do things?”

“Is that what Ushio and Asako still do when they're alone?”

“They're always bickering about some crap. Asako clearly has the reigns, though Ushio's a stubborn jackass.”

Mayuko giggled. “Some things never change.”

“Whatever, are we done here? You're going to catch cold if you keep sitting around in that.”

A spark flared in her eyes. “Is that so?”

Tora nearly leapt backward when she threw herself into his chest, her arms tightly wrapped around and fingers hooked into his fur. “Hey-hey-hey, warn me, first!”

She buried her face into him, letting out a quiet sigh. “You're so warm, Tora,” she muffled out. “It's just as I thought.”

He huffed, leering at a corner of the room. He felt humiliated she was treating him like a stuffed animal.

“Tora?”

“What now?” he grunted.

She pressed herself closer. “Will you hold me?”

“Eh?”

“Hold me and never let go.”

“Pretty specific order,” he muttered to himself.

Reluctantly, he wrapped his arms around her like a shield, nearly smothering her. Her fingers twitched against his back before she gently stroked, scarcely tugging through the fur and bits of mane she had snagged.

“I just realized,” she then said, still so soft he wondered if she could even breathe. “I can feel your chest move as you breathe, but I'm not feeling a heartbeat. And yet you bleed.”

He felt a smirk tug at his lips from the interesting observation. “You learn to live without a heart.”

“That's not true. You have one... somewhere.”

Great, now she was going to be bothersome about hearts. “We demons have different hearts from you humans.” Maybe that'd put an end to that conversation, and she'd let him go.

She was silent for a few moments. “That makes sense.”

He nearly snickered. You're one smooth talker, Tora, he mentally congratulated himself.

“You've got a big heart, Tora.”

Why couldn't she just drop it? “This is pointless. Are we going to keep hugging all night or what?”

Her hand paused in its brushing, and steadily, she tilted her head back to lock eyes with him. He wrote off her red face as a result of her being smushed against him. “You could kiss me.”

He stared. “Is that what you call 'sucking face'?”

She giggled. “Just do what Ushio does to Asako.”

There was that comparison again like she was holding them to some high standards. That was the most confusing, as he knew they weren't any different from any other couple—except they don't scream in horror and instead yell and throw things at him. And that was the other thing in that it was like the only source he had was the man he was haunting and his wife. Why should he have to copy every little thing Ushio would do?

She made the next move, straightening up higher on her knees and closing her eyes as her lips parted. Nothing out of the ordinary, he thought. But as she neared, he scowled and jerked his head away from a strange scent that was wafting from her. And deep down, he felt something sink realizing what he did. It wasn't like it was in the city where he would be reduced to sneezing fits in heavily polluted areas, however, there was noticeable change in her otherwise-pleasant aroma.

Must be new cleaning soap or something, he tried to shrug it off, blinking down at where she froze just mere centimeters away from him.

Her lips then relaxed into a small frown as her brows knitted. “So you don't want to?”

It bothered him somehow that she was a little disappointed. “You have a stronger smell to you,” he half-fibbed. “I just needed a quick breather.”

She leaned against his jaw, nose scarcely skimming his neck. “Does it smell nice?”

“Er... it doesn't make me want to sneeze... yet?”

“Is that good?”

“Yeah, it's... tolerable.”

She then cupped his cheek, still resting against him. He nearly flinched from the prickling that suddenly accompanied the touch, her fingertips just scarcely in reach of his streaks. “It's okay to tell me the truth, Tora. If there's something bothering you, let me know.”

Where to even start? He mentally scrolled through the long list of complaints he had, trying to find the right one. If it had been anyone else, he'd have blurted out the first thing that came to mind. But something or another was preventing him from speaking his mind.

When she reached further out for the back of his head, he felt something similar to static the moment her wrist rubbed against him. Growing irritated, he snatched her there and immediately felt his arm tingle.

“You're tainting your skin with metals,” he growled one of his complaints.

Mayuko blinked up at him. “You mean the earrings and watch? I need them for work—they're clip-ons.”

“Is that why you're covering yourself in other smells?”

“No, I had no intention doing that. I mean... I had no idea I was smelling weird. But you said it wasn't bad.”

“I didn't say it was good, either.”

She began to tremble—from what, he didn't know. He suspected tears were on the horizon, but she had of yet to get misty-eyed. “I must've screwed up somewhere... Maybe it is the new shampoo I've been using. It was supposed to make my hair look better, but if it smells...”

Tora didn't like how much she belittled herself. Indeed, three months of having not seen her was enough to cause a change to her. What he had admired of her had been stripped away by her having to be like the other humans. He wasn't sure if she could've ever avoided it, not when even Asako sometimes dolled herself up and changed hair-care products seemingly every week.

But he had no plans of eating Asako to begin with. Mayuko was the ideal meal. Even if it was going to take decades, she needed to take care of herself in preparation. Perhaps this was what he got for not following up on his word.

Before he caught himself, the demon bent down and licked her ear. Tremors rolled down their spines, though for different reasons.

“Wh-Wha... What was that?!” Mayuko gasped.

“Urgh, I think I burned my tongue,” he hissed, quickly regretting it. “If you had one of those earrings on right now, I could've lost it.”

The woman still remained frozen, feeling the wet prickle drip from her earlobe. Audibly gulping, she tried to catch her breath, and accidentally choked on it.

“Hey, don't tell me it grosses you out,” he snapped.

“Wh... Why?”

He scrunched his nose. “Actually, I don't even know why I did that.”

“C... Can you do it again?”

He gave her an odd look, taking in the deep blush that raged on her face and spread downward. It didn't look like it was easy for her to say, and he could at least understand why. But there was something sincere about it that he felt obligated to do it as asked.

He was careful to watch himself, knowing he could easily rip her ear off with the right movement. It felt like a rash was developing on his tongue no doubt from the lingering metal, but whether he was losing feeling in his taste buds or his saliva was washing it away, he couldn't tell anymore. Right beside him, hot air washing over his cheek, Mayuko panted and dug her nails into him from the start. Certain there was nothing more to her ear he hadn't already covered, Tora moved his attention to her neck, and there he recognized the taste. There were still parts of her that hadn't yet been tainted, a discovery he had to savor. Her pulse quickened from the first lick, a sensation he hadn't noticed in humans before.

“T-Tora!” she gasped, twitching enough in his hold he was sure he was going to cut his teeth into her.

“Hold still, Mayuko,” he growled into her. “If I cut you open, it's over.”

A small whimper escaped from her. It wasn't like her to make such pitiful sounds. She screamed in the past, as was to be expected, but there was something... off about these noises.

“And do you have to whimper? What, are you suddenly scared of me?”

“No,” she breathed out. “I'm not scared, Tora... it feels good...”

Did she have to say it like that?
 

Dr.Research

Dissertation Topic: Lolcows
True & Honest Fan
kiwifarms.net
@fire_fly (sorry if I'm hella late on this one)

I write to music. Sometimes I'll hear a song and just come up with an idea and listen to the song on repeat while I write. I find that it helps both with the initial idea, but also keeping you on some sort of writing track since you can use the lyrics as a guide to what's happening.

I also have a few characters that I've had in my head for a long time and love dearly. Most of their biggest stories come from music or just daydreaming.
 

Cripple

kiwi faggot enabler
kiwifarms.net
For people who submit to markets:

SFF markets. I know of Clarkesworld (always submit there first because the turn-around is usually within a week), Strange Horizons & Lightspeed/Nightmare but I'd like a bigger net. Doesn't need to be a SFWA but does need to be paying.

I don't submit to Shimmer & Apex because (since I'm anon) my impression of Shimmer is they want nonsense that uses obscure words, plot not necessary, and Apex editors seem to only want big name writers, no matter what they say.

So if there's a paying SFF magazine you like, pays, and the editors aren't insufferable, please tell me.
 
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Juscum

Unmistakable Serial Killer Vibe
True & Honest Fan
kiwifarms.net
For people who submit to markets:

SFF markets. I know of Clarkesworld (always submit there first because the turn-around is usually within a week), Strange Horizons & Lightspeed/Nightmare but I'd like a bigger net. Doesn't need to be a SFWA but does need to be paying.

I don't submit to Shimmer & Apex because (since I'm anon) my impression of Shimmer is they want nonsense that uses obscure words, plot not necessary, and Apex editors seem to only want big name writers, no matter what they say.

So if there's a paying SFF magazine you like, pays, and the editors aren't insufferable, please tell me.
Clarkesworld rejected me very promptly! SH took a few weeks to reject me. Shimmer was my first ever rejection and they were incredibly unprofessional -- like, two sentences, included the words "Thanks, but I'm going to pass." I'm submitting something to Apex at the end of May.

Lamplight pays a little less, but I have a flash piece out there now. I also have longer pieces languishing in Asimov's queue and one off to Intergalactic Medicine Show.

I have a spreadsheet of 200+ magazines of various levels of prestige. I've moved a copy of it to an anonymous Google account and made it viewable to you because I'm just that nice. I've stripped out all my color-coding and dates and titles. The mags aren't in any particular order, but ones I feel like I have more of a chance with are closer to the top and I've pruned out all the ones I could find that were on hiatus.

Not to be a faggot but if you ever want to edit each other's stuff, I know I'd appreciate a set of eyes that's not just a friend flattering me. No pressure though.
 

Cripple

kiwi faggot enabler
kiwifarms.net
Clarkesworld rejected me very promptly! SH took a few weeks to reject me. Shimmer was my first ever rejection and they were incredibly unprofessional -- like, two sentences, included the words "Thanks, but I'm going to pass." I'm submitting something to Apex at the end of May.

Lamplight pays a little less, but I have a flash piece out there now. I also have longer pieces languishing in Asimov's queue and one off to Intergalactic Medicine Show.

I have a spreadsheet of 200+ magazines of various levels of prestige. I've moved a copy of it to an anonymous Google account and made it viewable to you because I'm just that nice. I've stripped out all my color-coding and dates and titles. The mags aren't in any particular order, but ones I feel like I have more of a chance with are closer to the top and I've pruned out all the ones I could find that were on hiatus.

Not to be a faggot but if you ever want to edit each other's stuff, I know I'd appreciate a set of eyes that's not just a friend flattering me. No pressure though.
Thanks for the list!

And I'd say just avoid Shimmer. I remember reading an article once about a lot of modern lit being pretentious purple prose that actually makes no sense when you break it down-- that's exactly what Shimmer prints if you actually read the work they publish. I can never understand what in the hell they want.
 

Juscum

Unmistakable Serial Killer Vibe
True & Honest Fan
kiwifarms.net
And I'd say just avoid Shimmer. I remember reading an article once about a lot of modern lit being pretentious purple prose that actually makes no sense when you break it down-- that's exactly what Shimmer prints if you actually read the work they publish. I can never understand what in the hell they want.
I submitted a (pretty good, if I do say so myself) contemporary fantasy piece to them and they rejected it. That run, they published some fucking drivel about a light house that was ENTIRELY exposition. There was zero arc. Nothing happened. The protagonist didn't even have a name. They typed out an accent phonetically.

So fuck Shimmer.

I don't want to spam the thread so should we move to PMs?
 

Dr. Meme

Hardworking Libertarian Trans Woman
True & Honest Fan
kiwifarms.net
anyone know any good ways to describe the taste of piss? i'm working on a sequale to my novel and i need to know how it tastes before i can accurately describe it.

I'm not drinking it myself if that's what you're about to suggest
 

Kari Kamiya

Dopey Mew
kiwifarms.net
anyone know any good ways to describe the taste of piss? i'm working on a sequale to my novel and i need to know how it tastes before i can accurately describe it.

I'm not drinking it myself if that's what you're about to suggest
Before I Google'd it, I tended to imagine it tasted salty or sour, like (watered-down) lemonade that went bad.

When I Google'd it (first link I clicked on), it varies, but most seem to agree that it's warm, and salty, maybe bitter depending on the color/age of the urine--but healthy people have a bit of salt in their urine. Now someone from that link brought up that someone who's diabetic will have urine that has a sweeter taste due to the glucose. 'Course, that's not going into how smell factors into it...

So probably not too hard to choke down depending on the dietary intake, but the imagery alone isn't very pleasant, so it should invoke that kind of reaction.
 

Dr. Meme

Hardworking Libertarian Trans Woman
True & Honest Fan
kiwifarms.net
Before I Google'd it, I tended to imagine it tasted salty or sour, like (watered-down) lemonade that went bad.

When I Google'd it (first link I clicked on), it varies, but most seem to agree that it's warm, and salty, maybe bitter depending on the color/age of the urine--but healthy people have a bit of salt in their urine. Now someone from that link brought up that someone who's diabetic will have urine that has a sweeter taste due to the glucose. 'Course, that's not going into how smell factors into it...

So probably not too hard to choke down depending on the dietary intake, but the imagery alone isn't very pleasant, so it should invoke that kind of reaction.
this wouldve been good to know an hour ago, but thanks anyways, I got my description.
 

Philosophy Zombie

that fat kid who smells like axe
True & Honest Fan
kiwifarms.net
Before I Google'd it, I tended to imagine it tasted salty or sour, like (watered-down) lemonade that went bad.

When I Google'd it (first link I clicked on), it varies, but most seem to agree that it's warm, and salty, maybe bitter depending on the color/age of the urine--but healthy people have a bit of salt in their urine. Now someone from that link brought up that someone who's diabetic will have urine that has a sweeter taste due to the glucose. 'Course, that's not going into how smell factors into it...

So probably not too hard to choke down depending on the dietary intake, but the imagery alone isn't very pleasant, so it should invoke that kind of reaction.
No actually that is a common misconception. If one drinks the healthy amount of water (that is 8-10 cups per day) their urine should have almost no taste, salty or otherwise. It's like slightly acidic water, or dilute juice kind of. Of course most people don't consume as much water as they should so that should be taken into account.

And yeah the color is the main variable. AOr honey-colored piss (from a severely dehydrated person) will be very sour and somewhat bitter too, like you mentioned. I think we've all gotten piss that's kinda green at some point for whatever reason and that will be more bitter too, like green tea.

Second, the pee of a diabetic person is much, much sweeter, both in smell and in taste. Along with the constant thirst it was the initial symptom of diabetes for me, and it occurred before weight loss or any of the other markers. Unfortunately I didn't know this at the time and just shrugged it off, allowing the disease to go untreated for a month or two—PSA to all readers don't do this if you notice it.
 

disco skunk

spraying alive
kiwifarms.net
Any more seasoned writers with advice for me?
If you have a spare $15 or so, order a copy of 'On Writing' by Stephen King off BookDepository.Com and read it. Half autobiography, half 'tips from someone who does this for a living' stuff, it's an easy read and he even takes you through several edits of one of his pieces so you can see his process at work.

His comments on editing [which even include a fairly simple word-count formula for before and after, if you can believe that] make good sense, and he has a lot of stories about the application process and they types of rejection letters you can and will receive. I think you'd get a lot out of it.

If you buy the book and honestly, hand on heart, tell me you think it's shit and hasn't helped you, I'll commit to doing 3 hours of proof-reading for you gratis, as a mea culpa because I love my fancy fucking Latin words.
 

Predator_Too

Silvana Rosechu is my waifu.
kiwifarms.net
I'm in the almost-absolute-final steps of self-publishing my first novel. I'm just waiting to hear back from my editors. When I am unmasked here, I do hope you can enjoy the novel for yourselves.
 
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BAT: 0xc1071c60Ae27C8CC3c834E11289205f8F9C78CA5
XMR: 438fUMciiahbYemDyww6afT1atgqK3tSTX25SEmYknpmenTR6wvXDMeco1ThX2E8gBQgm9eKd1KAtEQvKzNMFrmjJJpiino