Paula’s
Comments
(group member since Oct 28, 2015)
Paula’s
comments
from the Science Fiction Microstory Contest group.
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Not sure what you mean by "to publish the work under her [the exec/coordinator/Sharon's] name". I presume you mean we continue the method we've been using, of publishing the anthology listing the executive director, the editor, and the designer/artist, which has worked well and mostly fairly. And then list the executive/coordinator for copyright or ISBN/Bowker status.
With these emendations/clarifications, yes--2nd or 3rd Jots's motion.

As a publisher, she has considerable contacts now with other anthology editors and says all those she knows lose money on their anthologies.
Personally, having worked, as the book's editor, with Carrol, who did the format/design/production/publishing, for TFIS volume 1, I'd be very much for taking her up on her offer. It is, otoh, conceivable that with Carrie handling podcasts and perhaps 2 or 3 or 4 people really working hard on publicity, and everyone seriously working on marketing/distribution/publicity, we may sell enough copies to make the royalties significant; it is possible, although not likely.

Ronald wrote: "@heather: I glanced at your past postings and I didn't see any mention of this software: Scrivener is suppose to be great for authors. You can try it out for 30 days free. If you decide to get it, ..."


Heather, good ideas. I guess if someone we don't know offers us a great cover image, and we can vet their art website and google for similar images to be sure the image is original, that would be cool too. But I especially like your idea that all artists in this group who wish to, have a go at putting up their images by X date for voting amond--definitely cool.


Sharon and I were thinking we should all work toward a June (or very early July) launch date for the anthology. Maybe one could launch a podcast of one or two stories, per week, leading up to that? with p.r. fanfare--!

Thicker is better if and only if quality and the sense of group endeavor/fairness are both kept up; size and cover certainly draw readers to look, but not necessarily to purchase, which is determined more by word-of-mouth, promotion (by all of us, for once, let's try), and quality, imho.

Work up full list of contributors for 1/15 -12/15; get them to send one e-address each.
Determine maximum length of stories and maximum story-change allowed (e.g., 750 words, only minor changes)
Determine number of stories per contributor. Minimum is 2 stories per contributor, selected from her/his enttries by the contributor--but one might, e.g.., also include, in addition: the contest-winning story for each month. (1) For the first volume, only 2 stories per person were used (I call the "high morale" method; (2) for the second volume, those persons who in 2 contests had got two stories through 2 selection rounds got to contribute 2 extra stories (including their winning story/ies, I think) (I call this the "low morale" method).
Set a deadline. Provide/post e-address stories to be sent to. Stories must be received, in .doc or .rtf format, by that deadline, to be included. Each author will also include a bio, in .doc or .rtf, up to 50 words, in separate file. Exceptions to deadline only in cases of emergency.
Meanwhile, coordinator, editor, formatter-designer, everyone here will find or be person(s) to professsionally handle the designer-formatter-artist roles for the book.
Editor to light-copyedit stories, keeping authors' styles and not changing British to US nor US to British usage.
Stories emailed back to authors. Two to three weeks for authors and editor to wrangle any discrepancies.
Coordinator and editor to determine order of stories in manuscript. Best high-morale method: arrange by month, theme that month's contest theme, order within month to be winning story followed by others in alphabetical order by authors' last names.
Meanwhile, coordinator and everyone here to find famous sf author, or someone else, to write introduction. Also, coordinator or editor to write a more prosaic nuts-and-bolts "about the anthology" piece for back of book. Also, coordinator to write copyrights page. Volumes 1 and 2 provide good templates or these items.
Meanwhile, artist will prepare a cover design, with input from a small art committee, from the group, or both.
Finished manuscript to formatter-designer for preparation.
Cover and manuscript copies emailed to all participants for proofing. Deadline set for return of proofed cover and manuscript. Each author to okay--or note needed changes to--his/her stories and bio.
Second round of proofing, if necesssary. Again with firm deadline for return of copy.
E- and print-formatting of manuscript and cover.
Proofing and changes to manuscript and cover in e- and print-formats (as many rounds as necessary).
Meanwhile, coordinator or volunteer to send book copyright notice to US Copyright Office and then, within 3 (or is it 6?) months after publication, 3 copies to Copyrights Office.
Marketing person and publicity person to head up advance publicity, post-pub e- and print-media publicity, distribution (get and use lists, etc.), sending e- and print copies to review-media/individuals.
Coordinator to track all this and see that deadlines exist and are followed.


Just received a book today by a friend who's in philosophy, so am thinking about it.




In fact, story written and posted now.

Copyright © 2016 by Paula Friedman
If you have a bother—sorry, a brother—you’ll understand. Don’t ever go with a bother to a cross-trails on Earth-P.
“Go down any path!” my little brother Bolly commanded, eyes bright-shining, shouting in the purple-pink Earth-P atmosphere, same as he’d always yelled back on Earth-1. “Any! Any! Any! Go go go!”
So I climbed on the green-seat of my Purple-People-Popper ™ scooter, and I scooted off, brother Bolly on his Killer ™ to my right, and down the trail we rolled, maybe half the neighborhood kids running alongside us, down through T’hronga swamps and Calli-mo copses and sawedgrass glowfields high to every side, all pinky-gold beneath the sky.
“Go down to where a path meets another coming sharply either way—from left or right,” said Bolly, like a grown-up, then, again sounding like his silly self, “THEN say. THEN you will see.”
I twirled a finger at him, but he didn’t answer, so “Away, away,” I sang, and “Hey-hey-hey” sang Bolly, and lots of the kids piped along, even little Lilli Beth, though she was having trouble keeping up, with her squiggle-feet (being half-Martian). So we sang, happy and free, all the parents at home or at work, “settled in, solid colonists, joyful,” as Daddy always said at the biweekly work-sings, with Mom in her Mom-seat and Bolly and me, faking smiles, right beside them. Everyone smiles at work-sings, smiles and eats ice cream, and “You are BORED!” Bolly whispered to me last time, and I said “No, I’m not,” and “Yes you are,” he said, and “No, YOU’re bored,” I said, and “Anything you say,” he whispered, “goes DOUBLE for you,” and I said “No, for you,” and he “For YOU, including that!” and I “No, YOU, including that,” and he “No, YOU, including . . .”
But anyhow, here we were, and Lilli Beth hung onto one of my peddles as we slowed. The pinky-purple air smelled green; flowers gleamed, high as we were where we halted in the cross-trails, all around.
“See here? The paths cross,” I told Bolly.
“Do they cross sharp?” Lilli Beth’s bother—brother—asked.
“Sharp enough,” Lilli answered, “for me.”
“No they don’t,” he said.
“Do, too.” That was Bolly.
So I said “So?” and, before he could, “So what?”
“So you’re a big liar,” Bolly, after squinting and leaning forward on his Killer for a minute, like measuring the paths-crossing angle, replied. “Great big liar, that's the truth. Big big.”
And I began to grow. I felt myself lift off the Purple-People-Popper™’s seat. I saw the flowers, with the little bothers, Lilli Beth, and other little people, way below.
“I’m not,” I cried. “That isn’t true.”
And ZIP! I was back on my seat. Everyone was big again.
“No,” I shouted, angry. “Bolly, you’re the liar. Little, little you. And that’s the truth.”
And there he was, like a . . . like a worm, really. Tiny as could be—or not quite, but I didn’t want to try farther—and him wiggling around in the sand. Sand boulders, they must be, to him. Or maybe big as Earths. Maybe, if . . .
OOOPS! There he was again! Big as life. (Before I could even say “If Earths could get TRULY big!”)
And “Now you’re gonna get it!” Bolly shouted. “Now you’re gonna really, truly—”
And Lilli Beth began to shake. “I’m scared,” she said.
“No you’re not.” That was her bother.
“Yes, I am.”
“Not.”
“Am.”
“She’s lying,” said Lilli Beth’s bother. “Truth is, she’s chicken.”
And there was Lilli Beth lying out on the cross-trail, all spread out, steam coming up from her golden-fried wings, and . . .
. . .
Gee, of course we should’ve all skedaddled out of there, but hey, she smelled so good.
Bolly tasted best, though. Guess I really am quicker than he was. MUCH quicker than Lilli Beth’s bro’. Only problem was, these feet couldn’t do peddles, these wings wouldn’t fly, and I couldn’t make this beak begin to make a “Truth” or even a “Tru-” sound. And an Earth-P cat, big as a lion, purring with gleaming eyes, came closing in toward me. And oh, I truly, truly, TRULY wished I was a pterodactyl-P, like the chicken-Ps’ ancestors here--and I squawked it aloud.
Listen, all fur aside, that kitty went down well once I skewered it onto my bloody, novice beak.
(746 words total)