It’s a little late this year, but here’s a thread for people to fret, commiserate, encourage, and generally talk about worries. Feel free to talk about your application story, too– the judges don’t read this one.
We’re here to help each other. Stay calm!
It’s a few days late, but here’s a thread for people to fret, commiserate, encourage, and generally talk about worries. Feel free to talk about your application story, too– the judges don’t read this one.
Stay calm!
Since 2011 I’ve been a first reader for Strange Horizons. It’s a good job and I recommend it to anyone who wants to understand what editors look for in a story– you read a lot of fiction, rate it, and send some of it to the senior fiction editors. Reading submissions has taught me quite a few of the ways a story can be good but not grab me, or be competent but not exciting, or be suited to another publication rather than ours, or be something we’ve seen a dozen times before. I could go on for hours about the experience, and I have in the past.
I’ve also told Alphans each year that they will not get a rejection from me. I’m staff at Alpha. It’s my job to encourage and help young writers. You don’t have to worry about seeing my name on a rejection, not as long as I’m a first reader.
Which means… now you do, oh my Alphans.
I’ve accepted a position as the newest senior fiction editor at Strange Horizons. This means I’ll be helping choose our weekly fiction offerings. It also means I can’t refuse to read a story just because I know the person writing it– that would be irresponsible as an editor.
So write the best stories you can. Send them to Strange Horizons. I’m really looking forward to reading them and seeing us publish more Alphans.
Step 1) Send in a complete application to Alpha, including a story.
Step 2) Freak out.
Step 3) End the freakout by posting here!
This is a thread for your worries. The application committee will not read any of your comments, so you can talk about your stories as much as you want. Feel free to share your concerns, your enthusiasms, and anything else with other people who applied to Alpha.
It’s a stressful thing to do. Let yourself feel the stress.
Chuck Wendig has flash prompts each week. Find one you like in the archives, or use this one.
The story includes a botanical garden, fatherhood, and something talking that doesn’t normally talk.
Online writing prompt generators and lists can be very useful, particularly for practicing ideas rather than writing entire stories. One exercise I did in high school speech was to take a prompt and outline the speech I would give, but not perform it. You can use a story prompt the same way. Who are the characters? What is the setting? What’s the problem, and how will it be solved? For best results, do this three or four times per prompt. You’ll dig deeper into the ideas.
Pick a lost or abandoned city. Set the story there, but maybe not in its last days.
Atlantis, Port Royal, Pompeii, Machu Picchu, Helike, Camelot, El Dorado, Troy, Songo Mnara, Angkor, Great Zimbabwe, Tikal, pick a place and run with it. Or write about sunken New Orleans, the lost city of Tokyo, or the tiny towns being blown away as the plains become the deserts.
(Yes, this is an ambitious writing prompt. You may want to consider this one for the next story you write. Either way, have fun with it.)
What happens when humans figure out immortality, but you can’t get younger and you can’t have kids afterward?
No, really. A lot of immortality schemes involve eternal youth, but as Tithonus discovered, that’s not always how it works. Fictional immortality often frustrates me because characters sticking around forever unchanging isn’t nearly as interesting as characters doing just about anything else.
What tropes frustrate you? Do you find yourself questioning soulmates and true love? Do you roll your eyes at the thought of a band of teenagers bringing down society? When the hero beams down from orbit, do you snark about the continuity of identity? Write a story where something goes wrong or unexpectedly, terribly right.
A comet burned in the sky and snakes fell from the heavens the night of my birth. Problem is, there were another couple hundred thousand people born that night, too, and I think maybe the comet was for them. Not the snakes, though. The snakes are mine.
This is a gift to you. Make of it what you will. Given the same opening lines and even the same premise, writers can create vastly different works. Even the same writer, sometimes– Robin McKinley’s Rose Daughter is not the same as her Beauty. You don’t have to keep the lines, but if the prompt sparks, run with it.
This is not the original They Fight Crime!, but it’s still amazing. Spend a little while clicking through until you find a pair– or a solo hero, or a trio– that makes you want to write that story. You don’t have to stick with the format, either.
“He’s a fast talking skateboarding cat burglar possessed of the uncanny powers of an insect. She’s a green-fingered tempestuous doctor with an incredible destiny. They fight crime!”
Are insect powers really that uncanny? What powers do insects have?
“He’s a sword-wielding guitar-strumming gangster who must take medication to keep him sane. She’s a plucky tempestuous doctor in the witness protection scheme. They fight crime!”
Clearly the doctor is providing the medication to keep Mr Swordguitar sane. Maybe there’s something in the gangster-witness-protection interplay, maybe not.
“He’s a leather-clad small-town paranormal investigator in drag. She’s a warm-hearted tomboy museum curator in the witness protection scheme. They fight crime!”
Sasha Jameson is an urban fantasy heroine who knows the rules: wear black, stay snarky, and be a woman. That’s how you get gigs. But Sasha has a secret….
How about yours?