Why I Didn’t Submit to Chicken Soup for the Soul

Chicken Soup for the Soul is a very popular series with over 275 titles, releasing approx, ten new titles each year. The original was a collection of heartwarming stories submitted by everyday individuals with a short (1200 words or less) inspirational story to tell. The first book was a huge success and has led to the publication of many others. All told they have sold over 100 million copies in the U.S. and Canada, and another 500 million copies internationally since 1993.

“A Chicken Soup for the Soul story is an inspirational, true story about ordinary people having extraordinary experiences. It is a story that opens the heart and rekindles the spirit. It is a simple piece that touches our readers and helps them discover basic principles they can use in their own lives. These stories are personal and often filled with emotion and drama. They are filled with vivid images created by using the five senses. In some stories, the readers feel that they are actually in the scene with the people.” -Chicken Soup for the Soul Guidelines-

At first, I was excited about the possibility of being published in a tome with such a wide readership. They publish 101 stories in each book. That’s a whole lot of competition. And the possibility of gaining any name recognition really gets thin. But still, I would have the bragging rights to say I was a published author in a well-known anthology (even though there are a hundred other authors in that same book). In the back of my mind my enthusiasm had taken a hit.

I was shaken. My next step was to check the demographics. Who was reading, and more importantly buying, these books. I had my suspicions and they were verified.

Although Chicken soup has some titles specifically for men, most of the readers were women. Yet a story about Irene and I would cover both bases and possibly reach teen readers who enjoy stories about relationships, the hard times and the good. So, at this point I was still undeterred, but what finally put me off was the next blurb from the guidelines. 

“How will you know if your story is selected? We do not send rejection letters, and we occasionally will save a submission for consideration for a future book. But in general, if you have not heard from us 60 days before the book’s on-sale date, that probably means we have decided not to use your story or poem.”

-Chicken Soup for the Soul Guidelines-

Wow. What if I want to use the story or poem I submitted in a self-published book? I had toyed with the idea of sending one of my stories about Irene BUT the stories I have written so far are to be used in a memoir entitled Irene about our time together. If my story was published in Chicken Soup, it could be a boost to my readership BUT I did not want to wait until they set a publishing date (which could be several years down the road) to find out if my piece had been accepted for publication. And if not, could still possibly be published in a different book at a later date. 

Of course, I would have the option of pulling my submission and thanking them for their consideration. But what if I did that just a day before they decided to include my piece in their book? Ahh! It makes me want to pull the few strands of hair I have left out by the roots! (Publishing is not for the weak of heart)

At this point I thought about submitting my poem The Lemony Pickle, but I plan to self-publish several chapbooks one of which would include that particular poem. I am left with sending a work I believe is inferior; a poem/story that would be, in my mind, little more than page filler. Something I don’t feel is good enough but I want to hit a page count. My goal is to be published by a well-known periodical or traditional publisher for the prestige, or just to tell myself someone in the business believes in my ability to write a saleable story/poem. But I don’t want the uncertainty of not knowing if it has been accepted. I would rather have the rejection up front and be done with it. Life is too short. Plus, like many artists, I have enough self-doubt. I don’t need to exacerbate it by having a niggling insecurity in the back of my mind, festering.

As of this writing, I have four days left until the Chicken Soup deadline of November 15th (seems familiar). I may yet submit. Call me Eggo, I keep waffling back and forth.

Here is a link to the submission guidelines for Chicken Soup You can also find deadlines for other upcoming titles. 

Getting Your Writing Accepted

A.I. Generated

Well, you’ve done it. You’ve written that story, poem, novel. A true labor of love to complete. You were challenged all the way from start to finish; drinking gallons of coffee and many sleepless nights. But it’s finally finished and you can reap the rewards of your labors. Now you get to hurry up and wait.

 And wait and wait and wait.

    Why is the acceptance letter taking so long to get to you? Was it lost in the mail?

Did you give the publisher the wrong email address?

    The truth is, if you're only writing to collect a paycheck, you should explore other options. If you're only writing to get paid, your prose/poems are probably suffering.

    But let’s say you put your heart and soul into whatever you write. The fact is, on any given day, the person reviewing your work could love it or hate it, or worse, be indifferent to it. Today they want eggs and bacon, tomorrow they want waffles, the next day they want biscuits and gravy. And so on. My point is, even if you get your work in front of the right person, it may just be the wrong day.

    If you’re submitting to a contest with thousands of entries, that big name judge probably won’t even see your piece unless it gets past the screeners first. So not only does one person have to love your piece but possibly several people will need to approve it and pass it on.

    Getting published is hard. Even online magazines often begging for content, may not accept your masterwork. What can you do? Keep submitting (not to the same publisher) but spread it around. If you only submit to The New Yorker, you will probably never be published. Great if you are, but very unlikely.

    Rejection letters are not inherently evil. A kind constructive rejection letter should be accepted in the spirit it is given. First, the publisher took the time to read your piece and respond. Even if they didn’t accept this one it doesn’t mean they won’t accept anything from you. What I do find frustrating is not receiving any word at all. You could be twisting in the wind for a long time before giving up and moving on. So at least appreciate the time you didn’t waste, waiting for the approval that never came.

    There are sites on the internet that can help you find the right publisher at the right time. Submittable is one, Submission Grinder is another and there are many more. The websites are usually paid by publishers who specify what content they are looking for.

    If your goal is to be published, don’t give up. Keep trying. The right person will come along and it will all be worth it.

(I am not paid by the aforementioned websites)

Brisk Morning Walk

  

 I set out as I usually do, for a brisk walk on a cool, misty morning in May. I preferred to walk along county road 100 as there is little, if any, traffic and the gentle grade made for easy going. Vehicles traveling along the road had been diverted when the four lane highway, just a mile to the east, had opened. So I often had the road to myself and mostly uneventful. Yet on this particular morning I felt something extraordinary was going to happen.

    As I strolled along, my mind on current events, I happened upon a young woman standing by the side of the road, a well worn suitcase in one hand and several colorful balloons held in the other. A rather unusual sight for this area, at this time of the morning.

    I tipped my hat in greeting and noticed right away that she was rather plain, wearing a sensible blue shift and cream colored, high heeled shoes. Her tawny hair cascaded down past her shoulders. All very common. Except for her eyes. Even today, I cannot be sure it was not an illusion caused by the early light refracting through the mist, but I would have sworn her eyes went from black to emerald green to amethyst purple only to settle on aquamarine blue. All in a matter of seconds.

    I regained my senses and asked, “Are you waiting for something? Perhaps someone is coming to give you a ride home.”
    “I am waiting for the spaceship.” she replied and turned to look along the road.

    I thought I would play along with the joke and said, “The spaceships don't run along here much since they opened the freeway.”
    “This one will be along any moment now.”
    Quickly tiring of the jest I tipped my hat and bid the young woman a good morning. I had scarce taken but three steps when a strong gust of wind nearly toppled me to the ground. I looked to see if an errant truck had passed by, but there was nothing in sight. Not even the young woman with the suitcase and balloons. She had vanished. It was then I surmised that spaceships must indeed still run along that road.

    Extraordinary.

Thanksgiving With The Wendigo's

 

A.I. Generated

I was hiking one holiday weekend in the northern Michigan Porcupine Mountains (aka Porkies), when a gray fog came rolling in. I was several miles from my camp, following a narrow trail through sweet scented jack pines. The cool mist was coming from behind me but I knew if I stayed calm everything would be fine.

Suddenly, a haunting screech came from the mist. An owl possibly? I quickened my pace and told myself not to panic. I was a veteran of these woods and I knew most animals left you alone, unless they were very hungry.  I heard it again. Something was in pain, caught in a trap maybe, but in extreme pain. Normally I would try to help but something told me to keep moving. 

I glanced back and saw…headlights? An all terrain vehicle maybe? I didn’t hear the engine rumble. An electric ATV? They were relatively quiet. No. Something was stalking me. I walked faster. My hiking poles weren’t heavy, just aluminum but they did have a nasty point on the end. Fight or flight? I would definitely fight if it came to that but my first choice was flight.

I walked faster, almost jogging. The fog was on me. I could feel hot breath as a voice whispered in my ear.

“There you are. We have been waiting for you.” I ran. Straight into a tree.

When I woke I was surrounded by the most loathsome creatures with gray skin. Skinny arms and hands with long fingers. Branches grew out of their narrow heads with large watery eyes and long sharp teeth.

I choked back a scream. “What do you want?” I squealed.

“We just wanted to invite you to Thanksgiving dinner,” said the tallest one. The shortest nodded in agreement. “We’re the Wendigo’s.”

“Your cannibals!” 

“Well, my wealthy boss fired me and without food assistance…”

“We were starving. So we ate his old boss. Found we had a liking for it, and well, here we are. But don’t worry. We only eat the fat and affluent. They make such a rich gravy.”

How To Be A Great Writer

Beginning writers most often ask, "How do I become a great writer like (fill in the blank)?"

The answer is simple. Read a lot and write a lot.

First, don't become a writer like ______. Any two famous writers you can name, have different writing styles known as voice. You first need to find your own voice, then just keep writing.

How do you find your voice? The best method is simply to write what you know and write a whole lot. Also, read many different authors and read a lot. Once you write enough you will have a certain style. It will just happen without your thinking about it. That is your voice.

Once you have established your voice. just keep reading to improve your vocabulary and keep writing to, well, improve your writing.

Look at it this way. A professional athlete doesn't just wake up one day and decide I'm going to play professional sports for a living. They have to practice and exercise and exercise and practice, until they become the best they can be. And they don't stop there, they keep on doing the same to get better. Unfortunately for atheletes, eventually their bodies decline with age so their careers are often short. But barring any mental incapacity, a writer can go on until he or she draws their last breath. Kinda cool, huh?

So keep writing everyday and don't be satisfied with your writing. Keep adjusting and tweaking and practicing until you are the best you can be as a writer. And lo and behold, you will be a great writer.
Will it be easy? No. But as P.T. Barnum once wrote about being successful, "Just do what you do best and keep doing it until your the best at what you do."

Welcome

Welcome to my author website. This will be a work in progress, and as I am participating in NaNoWriMo 2016, I want to start by posting about my experiences over the next month and my writing experiences in general.

I hope my posts will inspire you to take the next step in writing that novel that's been collecting dust in the back corner of your mind. Or just entertain you if your not a writer.

Generally, I write fisction and poetry, relying on my life experiences for inspiration or fodder, depending how you see it, to create a story that is funny and sad, wonderful and bad, just like life.

Future posts may be short or long. This one will be relatively short as I am pressed for time. Tomorrow is November 1st and the start of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). I am doing my last second prep before trying to write a 50,000 word novel (actually a novella) in just 30 days.

Thanks for stopping by and please come back soon.

Bookmark my blog and check back often for changes and some tips on writing that best seller you've been waiting a lifetime to write.

Until next time,

Ken