Tips for getting published
As a published author, I know it can be hard to get editors to consider your submission and think positively of it if you're new to the game. Here's a quick guide on how to get your work out there!
First of all, check out their guidelines on their profile. There's nothing worse than having sent a short story to a magazine and then finding out they don't publish high fantasy but only hard sci-fi, or their submission window is closed!
Second of all, make sure your manuscript is formatted well. Don't send out writing that's messy, hard to read, in formats like PDF or JPEG (unless specified). And let me know if you'd like a post about formatting.
And here we come to the more subjective tips, things I have personally learned through my work.
Your first line counts...
That's right! It's what your editor sees first: the line you open your story with. So make sure it's a punch in the gut, or curious and well-written enough to make them want to read until the last line.
...and so does your last.
Your last line should be almost like a moral of the story, the aftertaste that you leave your reader with. So don't make it quick! Think it through and care about it a lot.
Your title counts.
I have tiny tips for this, and some of them might be stupid, but think of this title as it's written in your list of works. For the story of that time you realized you wanted to pursue your dream while you were at the pool with friends, would you prefer "On Becoming Water" or "Pool day with friends and dreams"?
Personal experience/social relevance > complete fantastical speculation.
A lot of magazines prefer to have stories from people's actual lives that have then been turned into fiction, a sort of post-modern approach to real events.
Of course, there are many mags that only accept pure SFF, but try to find experiences in your life a reader might resonate with, and turn them into a short story. That might grant you a published piece, like it did for many of mine. [keep reading this article on my website]
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Every sales job I’ve worked has that one item. The white whale. The biggest ticket you can sell. The sale you brag about when you’re chatting with other industry people.
When I sold mattresses it was a split king adjustable base. That’s two twin extra long mattresses next to each other to make a king, but each side can move independently. They’re insanely expensive and honestly kind’ve impractical but it was the biggest ticket thing to sell.
When I sold sex toys though our white whale was the 20lb ass. It was a female pelvis, a cut out from the waist to the tops of the thighs. It was hyper realistic material and cost about $500. I definitely had bigger tickets but not in one item typically.
In my time at the sex shop, I sold three. Each time was completely different in terms of how the guy acted about buying it. The first man was a little embarrassed and shy about it. I was professional and supportive as I rang it up. Once I handed him the receipt he looked at the box. Then he looked at me.
If you’ve ever wondered how big a box has to be to fit a 20lb ass let me just tell you: it’s pretty damn big. It’s an uncomfortably large armful of box and every side has a picture of the sex toy inside on it. It’s not subtle.
“Could I get a bag….?”
There was no bag that existed that could possibly contain all that ass. “Hang on,” I told him.
I got scissors and tape and covered the box in cut up black bags. Looking relieved he picked up his purchase and left.
The next man to buy one carried it proudly to the counter; self assured and not embarrassed in the least. When I said I didn’t have a bag, but I could wrap it for him he gave a hearty shrug and hefted it into his arms, marching out the door with the butt on full display.
The last man to get one was just kind’ve an odd guy. Not creepy, but eccentric. We got along great, and as I rang him up I said, “Well one guy wanted his taped over, and one guy carried it out. What would you prefer?”
“There’s no bags?”
“No store bags. I think our jumbo trash bags in the back might fit it….?” It seemed rude to suggest putting a $500 item into a trash bag, but he wasn’t bothered.
He considered this then said, “Bring me the trash bag.”
When I delivered it to him he still managed to surprise me. Instead of shoving the huge box into it he opened the box. He took out his new $500 sex toy, and all the little things it came with, tipping them unceremoniously into the trash bag.
“There! Now I don’t have to deal with the box later!”
I was slightly stunned but agreed that I could easily deal with the trash. Then in a move I still think about with delight he flung the trash bag over his shoulder like a Santa with a sack full of ass and sauntered out the door.
If this or my other escapades made you laugh you could pop a tip into my Ko-fi! For more like this check my tag "ffs foibles".
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write a story - where the main character needs to accept that their love interest isn't ready to love yet and needs to leave them since it still hurts so damn bad
and when they return after years they see them with another person. just that the love interest got into this relationship because they couldn't get over their first love
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Vampire story but they're just pulling a Phantom of the Opera underneath a blood bank.
They have a very gothic swirly silly straw setup to drain blood from various tanks(?) (Idk how blood is stored) and have fully leaned into the Phantom aesthetic
The Christine-coded counterpart is a phelebotomist
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The Viewers
Danny and Tucker move in together for college in Gotham
Tucker decided to make tiktoks just for fun, he could teach people about technology and help give tips.
He didn't realize that his viewers could see Danny in the background in some clips.
Danny being Danny was never caught doing something normal instead it was always something weird.
~
Tucker: "So you just switch this piece here-"
Danny in the background more than half his body in the fridge, the fridge is very noticeably growling
Tucker who is so used to it, it doesn't even register in his mind that it's not normal.
~
Tucker fan-boying about the new Wayne tech
His viewers looking behind him at Danny
Danny running around fighting his food which is also growling & flying
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Tucker modifying his tech for the viewers
Danny's voice in the distance: "Bye Tuck, I need to go soup this guy real quick!"
Viewers: "Cannibalism?!"
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Tucker: "Ah yes a very normal video!"
His viewers watching Danny:
~
Just an Idea
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Buckle up for another unhinged story time. Now, as I’ve said before, I used to work at a sex shop. At one point I had three roommates and we all worked the same dildo slinging retail job and lived together. It was extremely sitcom.
Now, as you’d imagine, living with three other people who also talked about sex toys all day created a microcosm of people who were all extremely comfortable around sex toys and related topics. No one left dirty toys laying around but seeing things left in showers or showing off a new purchase was just a Tuesday.
After some life upheavals I ended up living with one of those roommates again, just me and her. For the sake of this story let’s call her Betty. Betty and I shared a two bedroom, and the layout was all the common spaces were an open floor plan and then one hallway formed a T, with my room and bathroom to the left and Betty’s to the right.
Well, one day my cousin calls me up. He’s coming to town for a visit and I offer to put up him, his wife, and their more… sheltered friend. (Unbeknownst to me there was a full Briefing for this girl before she met me so that I didn’t overwhelm her with my blasé attitudes towards- well, most things).
They drove in from two states over and it was a long drive. I had to work and couldn’t greet them or spend the first day together. So I told them to come grab my key so they could all shower off and settle in before me.
I arrived home later that night and found the atmosphere a little awkward at first. Things quickly warmed up and I charmed their friend, impressing my cousin with my immaculate respect for personal comfort levels. We had a lovely evening. By the time we all said goodnight I’d dismissed the initial tension as being tired after a long drive.
The next day we all decided to go to the zoo. I’m a morning shower person, but I let them go first while I made breakfast. After breakfast it was my turn and I hopped in the shower.
Midway through my eyes fixed on it. A little pink sex toy, sitting brazenly on the rim of the tub. Oh no, I thought. This was why things had been awkward yesterday! I left out a personal object because I’d literally forgotten to ever put them away by that point.
What I felt wasn’t embarrassment per se, because that emotion had been utterly eradicated by that point. Rather it was a deep shame that I’d leave out something that might make a guest feel uncomfortable. They told me their friend was sheltered and I had left out a sex toy, it was the epitome of rudeness!
I rejoined everyone and said, “I am so sorry! I didn’t realize I’d left that in the shower, that was so rude of me!”
My guests all exchanged a Look. I looked from my cousin to his wife, she glanced toward their friend, and their friend looked at my cousin. No one would look at me.
“Well…” my cousin finally said, “you didn’t tell us which room was yours yesterday.”
I blinked in confusion, Betty’s room and bathroom were basically just like mine.
“When we got here,” his wife continued, “we went to the other side first. In Betty’s bathroom.”
Reader, Betty’s bathroom.
Had been absolutely covered in dildos. Sex toys of all shapes and sizes covered every flat surface, the tub rim, the sink, the shelves. Wall to wall sex toys. Apparently Betty was doing a spring cleaning and had left her entire extensive collection out to air dry.
These three weary travelers had opened a door to the dildo dimension and had no idea how to react. To this day I have no idea what context clues they used to figure out Betty’s room from mine.
But when I’d come home they were lost in the sex toy shell shock, presumably wondering how they could ever talk about it with someone who felt it was okay to leave out every sex toy they own when expecting company in some kind of bizarre power play.
By the time they finished telling me about this we were all laughing so hard we were in tears.
“When we saw your bathroom with one little pink toy it was so discreet we didn’t even care!” They told me.
After my cousin and his crew had gone on their way I finally told Betty the whole story. She listened with eyes growing wider and wider and finally burst out, “That’s why they were so weird when I got home!!”
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