Writing to Suit

Although I find myself doing it often, these days in particular, I'm always hesitant to write short stories for  anthologies with specific themes. The chances of getting the story accepted are usually low, especially if the story wasn't commissioned by the publisher, and then I'm left with what I consider a quality story that is too specific to send elsewhere.

I have gotten better at being strategic, however. Unless the anthology theme is one that grabs hold of me to the point where I become consumed with an instant story idea, I tend to weed out the more idiosyncratic ones in favor of themes that seem a bit more generalized. For example. if someone is looking for stories about the end of the world that only involve a wish gone horribly wrong, that story might be easily placed elsewhere. But if it's just about the end of the world being caused by a single poor decision, I'm all over it.

(I should confess here that the above example was one I actually wrote and published titled "Maynard" about a lovable, fun-loving sociopath whose hatred of humanity is eclipsed only by his ego)

Image obtained from Wickimedia Commons

Sometimes it's hard to not write the story anyway. There have been anthologies that paid well but what they wanted was so particular to that publication that it just didn't seem to be worth my time. I have few regrets on that score because I know that ultimately it makes more sense to aim wider. Such was not the case with the short story I had accepted earlier this week. Entitled, "Gorgon, not Forgotten," this was a case of literary hypocrisy on my part and I make no apologies for that.

"Gorgon" was written for an anthology looking for reworked mythological tales. The instant I read it, the words, "Medusa had a secret daughter" echoed inside my brain non-stop for several seconds. It was a case of a story taking hold of me and demanding to be told. Those are the moments most writers live for and I would have been damned if I'd allow that feeling pass without giving it its due. I finished the story rather quickly and had a few people read it. One hated it based on the fact that my version of the mythology was not what she "knew" to be the way it was supposed to work. Another loved it. One other couldn't get past the present tense and a fourth found it brilliant.

The story was rejected.

I wondered if my faith in its assumed (by me) quality had been misplaced. Sure, two people had really enjoyed it but what about those negative criticisms? Maybe they were right. How would I ever know, considering I'd written this story to suit a specific anthology? Then the Left Hand of Darkness emerged from deep within the Stygian depths of my unconscious mind. Or, more accurately, this publisher announced a somewhat similar anthology. Needless to say, the story was accepted.

So, is there a moral to this story or is it, as Homer Simpson once said, "Just a buncha stuff that happened"? I suppose if pressed to find a moral, it is to trust that inner voice in your head, the one that sounds like you. The one that doesn't sound like you might need to be medicated away unless it imbues you with super-powers. But that other voice knows you because it is you and, every once in a while, it's okay to step away from the hard and fast rules.

More info on this anthology as it becomes known~