Let’s get the headline news out of the way: I have a new story out! It is called How To Grow Up and you can read it in issue 4 of Seaside Gothic. You can purchase a single issue of the paper magazine in their shop, or subscribe either digitally or paper-ly. You can also read some of their stories free on their site, but not (at present) mine.
OK, the rest of this blog post is going to be me telling you how delightful I find Seaside Gothic. I was initially won over by the name: I am a massive fan of the seaside, and of gothic things. Gothic literature with a saltwater theme? Bring it on. I signed up, digitally, immediately.
It looks beautiful…
Then issue 3 came out, and I wished I’d bought a paper subscription. The editor tweeted pictures of magazines, wrapped in logo’d envelopes and stuffed by the handful into pillar boxes. The artwork, in full colour, looked gorgeous.
I wanted this graphically-lovely thing to come skimming through my letterbox.
(I also live in a flat and would like not to acquire more things that need storage - this is why I’d opted for the e-subscription).
They’re kind to their authors…
I submitted a story to the magazine. It was rejected, but the editor sent me extensive feedback, and invited me to resubmit. The comments he made were very thoughtful, and quite wide-reaching - one suggestion he made was to alter completely the premise of the piece.
He also recommended some techniques that I could use to try and improve on the story, which have (in the longer term) changed the way I write dialogue.
The story, How to Grow Up, was accepted on resubmission. But even had it not been it would have emerged from the process as a bigger and better piece of writing.
The personal touch…
My contributor’s copy of issue 4 arrived today in the post, and included a personal note from the editor. Cute, I thought, he’s used a font that looks like a worn typewriter.
Then I picked up the letter, and my thumb ran over the text. Nope. It’s typed. Actually typed, on an actual typewriter. And actually signed with an actual pen.
Someone, in a busy world where printing out multiple copies of a note is trivial, has put the time and effort in to type something. And it means a lot.
