Reading slush is actually an incredibly educational process. Apart from the obvious “don’t be a jerk” rules that I now understand, I’ve started to realize that slushing is actually benefiting my writing. And so, in the hope that things that I’ve learned can somehow help you, I present: Things I’ve Learned from Slush.
Your first line,
while important, shouldn’t overshadow the rest of your writing. If your first line is fabulous, then the rest of the lines in your story should also be fabulous. And while first lines are great, and fun to write, and fun to read, editors aren’t just buying
your first lines. They’re buying your stories. So your first line should be representative of your story – no flashy explosions or mass murders if your story is going to be a quiet psychological study of a young woman in a small Iowan town, please.
As you write your first line, you should consider how it fits within the context of your story, but also how it fits within the context of the first paragraph – or whatever you have in the first few lines of your story. Writing isn’t just about pretty sentences, after all, it’s about putting those sentences together.
Think about your ending
as much as your beginning – it shows if you don’t. I hate writing endings, because I can never figure out how they’re supposed to work. Somehow, you have to juggle emotional resonance, plot, character development, and voice throughout your entire story, and then catch them all again at the end. Drop one and the entire story falls apart. Who knew?
It’s also very easy to tell when someone hasn’t thought about their ending. I’m so guilty of this, myself. I figure that as soon as I reach the ending, the story will take care of itself. This rarely happens, so think about your endings. Edit them. (You should be editing everything. Do not only edit your endings.) Read them over. Do they resonate? Do they relate to the beginning, middle, and end? Or does it read like a cop-out, or worse, a Big Lipped Alligator moment?
Typos
are really the absolute worst. Not only are they embarrassing when they turn up in your own work, but when I read them in a story, or in a cover letter, they completely throw me out of the story. Is this nit-picky? No, not really. I’ve definitely sent out stories with typos, and when I realize it, I’m always mortified. Typos are an amateur’s mistake that any professional can make, and being on either the giving or receiving end of a submission with typos is just the absolute worst.
I guess what I’ve realized is that reading slush is sort of like a trial by fire, just like going through the slushpile is a trial by fire. You develop Slush-o-Vision to pick out the best stories and become good at seeing problems because you have to. When you take those Slush-o-Vision eyes to your own work, you realize, “Oh. Wow. Oops.” Then you get working.
Your Turn
Do you read slush? If so, what has it taught you about writing? Leave us a comment!
Listening to everyone read at my crit group does the same sort of eye-opening thing for me. I’ve learned so much just from listening, even when I don’t have anything of my own to read.
The bad thing about this new awareness is that it is sometimes…no often… hard to read simply for pleasure. Because I see things I didn’t see before in books, and my inner critic won’t let me ‘just read’ now.
It’s still easier to see it in someone else’s work than in my own, though.