Six Questions for Sandra Ruttan, Editor-in-Chief, Dark Dispatch

Dark Dispatch publishes two-sentence stories, flash fiction (300-999 words), and short stories (2,000 to 5,000 words) in the genres of dark fantasy, science fiction, horror, and crime. Issues are themed. Other materials that may be considered include reviews, news submissions, interviews and guest articles. Read the complete guidelines here.

SQF: Why did you start this magazine?

Sandra Ruttan: I love dark fiction, even if it's fiction that goes to the darkness and then infuses some hope and light. I wanted a venue where I could talk about fiction I'm consuming and invest in other writers. Dark Dispatch offers a way to do both things, and build an audience for dark fiction.

SQF: What are the top three things you look for in a submission and why?

SR: I'm going to say the hook, engagement, and the conclusion. This is a tough one, because sometimes it's a character you fall in love with or a fantasy world you're bewitched by that sells you on the story, but none of that happens if the writer doesn't get your interest and keep it. I've also had promising stories that fizzled in the end, and that made a difference between an acceptance and a rejection. 

SQF: What most often turns you off to a submission?

SR: Another tough question. Probably a writer's attitude. There are a lot of obvious and subtle ways writers betray things about themselves. For example, if a sub call lists the names of the editors, you address your sub to the editors. If you search the site and find the names of any males remotely associated with the venue and address your sub to them, you're telling on yourself. As a woman, I'll be bracing myself for some inherent sexism in a story from someone who skipped my name and sent the submission to my husband. 

I've had writers submit a story and then go on social media and talk about self-publishing it and when it will be available, without withdrawing the submission. That demonstrates a lack of respect for the editor's time and the submission process. If they aren't treating their submission seriously, why should I?

Other writers state bluntly they won't provide requested submission information unless they're accepted. If a writer doesn't agree with your submission guidelines, they don't have to submit material to us. 

Sometimes, that disqualifies you from consideration. And sometimes, there's content in a story that strongly suggests the author's attitude about something that makes me uncomfortable. There are times I've read submissions and felt it in my gut that the author's racist or homophobic, and that their writing's propaganda for those views. That's guaranteed to turn me off. 

SQF: What do you look for in the opening paragraph(s) of a submission?

SR: This is, perhaps, the toughest question. An opening paragraph can be a single word or sentence, or several sentences. At times, all have succeeded as brilliant openings, and at other times, all variations have failed. I think it comes down to tone or situation. Sometimes, a single word sets the tone in such a clear way, I'm engaged. Other times, the opening line sets the stakes, and I'm hooked. Clarity is key. The opening's job is to draw me into the world in a way that makes me want to keep reading. If I'm confused, that's less likely to happen.

Examples of great openings:

"My choices that day were twofold: kill myself before or after the Prime Minister's cocktail party? And if after, should I wear my Armani to the party, or the more sober YSL with the chalk stripe?" -  "Herbert in Motion" by Ian Rankin. This is a short story, and it created a lasting impression. You know so much about the protagonist without being told anything. He's connected because he's invited to the PM's cocktail party. And he has fancy clothes. So why is he contemplating suicide? The question is posed without being asked, and immediately, I want to know why this affluent, connected person's thinking about taking their own life.

"When the first crows fall from the sky, the villagers know I'm to blame." - Boneset & Feathers by Gwendolyn Kiste. You immediately know the world's broken, something's seriously wrong, and people think our protagonist is at the center of it. It betrays her alienation from the start, setting the tone for the story. 

"Father told me I'm broken." - The Bone Shard Daughter by Andrea Stewart. What a heartbreaking sentence. There's so much pain wrapped up in this single sentence. Is she really broken? Can she be fixed? I'm hooked.

"Never underestimate the seductive power of a woman who's minding her own business." - "Feast for Small Pieces" by Hailey Piper. These were the first words I read by Hailey Piper in a short story I published a few years ago. They certainly weren't the last words by Piper that I read. I was drawn right into that world with a simple truth. You just know some man not minding his business is going to learn a lesson, and I couldn't wait to see what happened. I'm also a big fan of Piper's opening to "The Law of Conservation of Death." 

"On the fifteenth birthday of your third reincarnation, you feel his breath on your skin.

"New skin, never tainted until now. At once the sky darkens, and balloons, gifts, and cake no longer matter as your lives come rushing back. You've turned fifteen before, but that's the least of it.

"He's found you again." Piper effectively establishes her world with a few sentences, and introduces us to the protagonist's problem. She's being stalked through every reincarnation. Chills me to the bone every time. 

SQF: Many editors list erotica, or sex for sex sake, as hard sells. What are hard sells for your publication?

SR: Gratuitous sex or violence. Frankly, anything that doesn't serve the story shouldn't be there. I love subplots in long fiction, but short stories have to stay focused on the core theme and can't afford to meander. 

SQF: What one question on this topic do you wish I'd asked that I didn't? And how would you answer it?

SR: Another editor recently commented on social media, asking people not to reply to rejections. It sparked a lengthy discussion, and I ended up muting some writers. So the question would be:

Should writers reply to rejections? 

The answer is always no. Thank editors for taking the time to read your work when you submit it. Unless they specifically ask you a question or invite you to revise your work and resubmit it, don't reply when you receive a rejection. It isn't rude. Last year, I was processing multiple submissions with high submission levels. One all had 700 submissions alone, and there were three calls. First, every email reply to a rejection that hits your email is a source of stress. So many people argue over submissions, and each time you receive an email, you brace yourself for a personal attack. Then there's the time spent clearing those emails out of our inbox. It's impossible to filter them out because so many writers don't follow submission guidelines, you couldn't possibly create a filter that would catch all the replies. In the past I've asked for writers to put the name of the sub call in the subject line, but it doesn't happen consistently. Then you have people replying to acceptances or sending back edits who could be caught up by the filter. Frankly, I also feel unprofessional if I don't read correspondence I've received. I'm working on giving myself permission not to. 

Replies to rejections are triggering. Most editors aren't paid by the hour, either. And for the writers who insist it's courteous to send that response to a rejection, even if the editor has asked you not to, it isn't. It's selfish. It serves absolutely no good purpose for the editor. Inappropriate responses to rejections are probably the #1 reason a writer ends up on my "reluctant to work with" list. Professional writers follow the submission guidelines, and if they ask you not to reply to rejections, you don't reply, period.

Thank you, Sandra. We all appreciate you taking time from your busy schedule to participate in this project.

Six Questions for Hansen Adcock, Managing Editor, Once Upon A Crocodile

Once Upon A Crocodile publishes fiction to 6,000 words and poetry to 45 lines. “Once Upon A Crocodile is an e-zine that wants to bring a mile-wide grin to its readers (snaggle-toothed or not) with humorous stories and poetry.” Read the complete guidelines here.

SQF: Why did you start this magazine?

Hansen Adcock: I have had some fantasy and sci-fi stories and poems published over the years, and a couple of horror stories. Being a writer myself, I was interested in what goes on behind the scenes, and wanted to do something that would give me editing experience and know what it’s like for editors to read submissions, select work that fits the tone and theme of a publication, and work with writers to develop something that shows off their talent. I also needed an outlet to showcase my illustration work (I commit art under the name Matchsticks). Above all that, I wanted to build something new that would make people laugh! The way the world has been going the past few years, I reckoned that humans needed something light-hearted to help them escape for a while, especially nowadays with the Coronavirus pandemic.

What spurred me into thinking of doing my own e-zine back in 2018? Neil Gaiman, an author whose work I very much admire, had revealed that he once put out his own magazine when he was at school, which ran for maybe six issues. It was then that I decided, well, if a writer can make their own magazine when he/she/they are in their teens, then it was high time i gave it a shot. (But I don’t plan on stopping at six issues!)

SQF: What are the top three things you look for in a submission and why?

HA: 

1. Humour. I have had a few submissions now that aren’t funny at all, but are either tragedy or horror. Obviously, if you can write a good horror story that is also hilarious, kudos to you, I would be interested in reading something like that. Any humour is good so long as it’s done well - slapstick, absurdism, parody (as long as the work you’re parodying is in the public domain!), limericks, even toilet humour. Humour is a demonstration of wit and irreverence in my language, (though I dislike it when it’s at the expense of minority groups). Swearwords (used judiciously) are fine. Humour is OUAC’s raison d’etre.

2. Good writing—obviously. I have had some bizarre pieces of work sent to me in the past which have not been proofread or rewritten in any way and are therefore almost incomprehensible. I’m looking for good spelling, punctuation, use of grammar, and economy of words is a plus. If you can rearrange a sentence so it uses less words but still makes sense, then do so!

3. Quirky, eccentric characters. They don’t have to be human, but if there’s something unusual about them then I will want to keep reading. Think like Charles Dickens, or Roald Dahl, or Diana Wynne-Jones. Their characters were often odd.

SQF: What most often turns you off to a submission?

HA: People ignoring the guidelines! If I receive a story that isn’t readable or doesn’t contain humour, it gets rejected. The other thing I dislike (immensely) is any type of sexism / racism / ableism or discriminatory attitudes held by the narrator (unless it is used in such a way as to poke fun at the narrator for holding outdated stereotypical beliefs, and the narrator gets his/her just desserts during the course of the story.) I also don’t like stories where nothing much happens and everything is all happy-happy la-la-land.

SQF: What do you look for in the opening paragraphs / stanzas of a submission?

HA: The aim of an opening is to get the reader immersed and hooked simultaneously. So, I look for stories or poetry that start in the midst of the action. Not like a fight scene (though it could be!) but the characters have to be shown DOING SOMETHING, or in the middle of some dilemma. You know the maxim—show, don’t tell. Either that, or you can start with showing me what is unusual about your character using their actions and their surroundings. 

SQF: Will you publish works previously published on an author’s website/blog (or anywhere on the net)?

HA: Yes. OUAC doesn’t take any rights for the author’s work except to showcase it and archive it online. So as long as you have electronic publishing rights to your work, I will publish it. (A good rule of thumb is, if the work in question was last published more than a year ago, all rights will most likely have reverted to the author, but please do contact the last publisher of said work just to clarify the situation). If, at a future time, you want to publish something of yours somewhere else that I have archived, just email me at onceuponacrocodile@gmail.com and ask me to remove it from our website, and I’ll be happy to oblige. If I start being able to pay authors and poets in future, then that might change, but if so I will update the guidelines on the website to reflect that.

Also, if your piece is on your blog, send me the link to your blog and I will share it on the e-zine “Tail” section (the author bios page) and on the OUAC Facebook and Twitter pages as well.

SQF: What one question on this topic do you wish I’d asked that I didn’t? And how would you answer it?

HA: You could probably have asked how I promote writers’ work and what plans I have to do that in the future.

To answer that question, OUAC has a Facebook page (www.facebook.com/onceuponacrocodile) and a Twitter account (@OnceUponaCroc) where I share links to the new issues and to individual stories and poems. I also share links to stories and poetry I’ve illustrated as Matchsticks on my art page (www.facebook.com/Matchsticks19) and Twitter page (@Matchsticks1). In the future, I plan to conduct interviews with writers OUAC publishes and share those on social media, and plan to get a mailing list set up along with a newsletter.

Thank you, Hansen. We all appreciate your taking time from your busy schedule to participate in this project.

Six Questions for Tahlia McKinnon, Founder/Editor-in-Chief, Hecate Magazine

Hecate Magazine is an online journal and bi-annual anthology that publishes poetry, short prose and creative non-fiction. Submissions are open to women writers and other marginalised gender identities and expressions, including bigender/polygender, non-binary/gender-non conforming and two-spirit writers. Read the complete guidelines here.

SQF: Why did you start this magazine?

Tahlia McKinnon: Hecate Magazine was founded during the current pandemic and born out of a particularly bleak period of my life. After years spent striving toward an editorial career, I found myself in a stagnant marketing role within a corporate company. A suit of skin that really didn’t fit me. And working in that pressure-cooker environment during the heightened anxiety of lockdown, it caused me to hit some catastrophic mental lows.

It was so overwhelmingly daunting to me, to realise that I had been existing on autopilot for quite some time. Silencing my creative impulses. Denying myself time to write. The one thing I truly know how to do. The absolute basis of my identity. 

Hecate was something I had to get out of me – almost compulsively. It’s a project that gave me purpose throughout the pandemic. Faced with such a hostile period of isolation, I craved community. I needed to reconnect - with my own self too.

I actually ended up quitting my job in December of 2020, and despite economic uncertainty, I can confidently say that it’s the best thing I’ve ever done. Hecate breathed life back into me, and making this magazine my focus has been soul-food. In so many inexplicable ways. 

SQF: What are the top three things you look for in a submission and why?

TM: I’m not sure I can pinpoint particulars, but to any writer looking to submit to us, I would say this: Capture and captivate us. Tease us with twists and open endings. Weave a web of lies. Make your tales dark. Make them light. Embrace archetypes. Rewrite old myths. Birth your own legends. Make us gasp. Give us chills. Gift us with the flesh of character. The bones of brooding tension. We want horror, magic, shadow, heartache, whimsy, dreams. We want to be broken. We want to be lifted.

Our bi-annual anthologies act like bookends; they mirror the light and shade of the human experience, much of what Hecate as a goddess represents. For our summer issue, we still invite darkness but with a euphoric edge. For our winter release, we want to be shaken to the core. 

SQF: What most often turns you off to a submission?

TM: With set themes, we often receive many literal interpretations – but we’re looking for writers that bend truths. Who boldly invert our prompts. We’re also not particularly compelled to read retellings, unless they’re from a blinding angle. We seek word weavers who conjure alternate fairytales of their own. Who inject magic into the mundane – because we’re always hungry for spiritual undertones.

SQF: What do you look for in the opening paragraph(s)/stanza(s) of a submission?

TM: You really don’t need to deliver a hook with your first line. For me, personally, I think that’s an over-egged misconception. I think a slow burn can work just as well. If a tone is set, an ambience created, and a point of view established, I’m a very happy reader. The obvious choice is not always the most compelling. And, in fact, it’s often a closing line that stays with me most.

SQF: What types of submissions would you like to see more of (e.g. poetry, memoir, flash fiction)?

TM: I love reading creative non-fiction. I have a very personal relationship with my own writing and there’s something so transporting, so transformative, when you read of another’s suffering or grief or joy and exultation. I’ve commented on this before, but it thrills me, the blurred line between truth and fantasy. Writing can be an incredibly healing and cathartic process, so reading these recounted memories – it’s almost like bearing witness.

SQF: What one question on this topic do you wish I'd asked that I didn't? And how would you answer it?

TM: What do I admire most in other writers? And that’s an endless list, really – but I think the bravery behind what we do is often undervalued or dismissed or – actually - outright exploited. This relationship between writers and editors and readers is built on trust, in all directions. Creation relies almost entirely on holding space. In my mind, anyway. Words are powerful, and it never fails to move me – witnessing what other writers do with this gift.

Thank you, Tahlia. We all appreciate your taking time from your busy schedule to participate in this project.

Six Questions for Andrew Leon Hudson, Editor, Mythaxis Magazine

Mythaxis Magazine publishes “speculative fiction without distraction”, seeking original sf, fantasy, horror, and permutations thereof between 1,000 and 7,500 words. You can find submission guidelines (and some editorial observations) at https://mythaxis.co.uk/submissions.html

SQF: How did you become involved with Mythaxis Magazine?

Andrew Leon Hudson: The first editor, Gil Williamson, and I became friends through a book-lovers forum named Palimpsest in the mid-2000s. He had a professional background in software and created the Mythaxis site from the ground up, publishing 21 issues over ten years. I contributed a few stories to the zine, in fact my first “sale” was there, although back then Gil would compensate his contributors with books from his extensive library. My copies of Gene Wolfe’s The Book of the New Sun were payment for flash fiction - I think I got the better deal!

Sadly, Gil passed away in 2019, but he asked (before) if I would take over the zine so it could continue without him, and I was proud to do so. It took some time to achieve, transferring the site proved tricky for “internet reasons”, but with the help of a friend (Mythaxis’ tech guru Marty Steer) we untangled that knot and resumed publishing in April 2020. Since then we’ve set about updating the site to a more mobile-friendly platform, as well as opening the zine up to submissions from a wider body of authors. We now plan to release four issues per year.

SQF: What are the top three things you look for in a submission and why?

 

ALH: According to our guidelines we seek four things - “tight plotting, engaging characters, quality of prose, and believable dialogue” - but that’s a bit like saying “we want good stuff”, isn’t it? Instead of trying to pick one of those to discard, I’ll suggest three other things I like to find:

 

Voice. This isn’t the same as “just” delivering stylish prose or authentic dialogue, it’s about an author having a distinct way of working with words that sets them apart. We all have favourite authors whose style we come to know, but sometimes you encounter a story by someone you’ve never heard of before which already has that in place. That’s always a good feeling.

 

Difference. It’s easy to say to authors “read what we’ve published to learn what we want”, but I’d much rather be exposed to something unlike what we’ve included before. Please do read past issues, but use them as a jumping off point for sending something new to us.

 

Authenticity. I’m a firm disbeliever in the adage that authors should only write about what they know. They should be free to look for and explore the unfamiliar as much as the familiar - but the onus is entirely on the author to do the hard work necessary to make what they write authentic. It’s doable, but it takes effort, and if the unfamiliar subject is a different culture or life experience to the author’s own, then the importance of doing them justice is all the higher.

 

 

SQF: What most often turns you off to a submission?

 

ALH: Wry grins. Any author who sends me a story in which someone grins wryly should also include a photo of themself doing the same; first so I’ll know what they think it looks like, and second so I can print it out and pin it to my dartboard. 

I don’t actually have a dartboard, but I do have a private spreadsheet in which all stories containing wry grins have a checkmark against them. You’d be surprised at the bar charts.

That’s all true, but more seriously, I’m in the game of looking for narratives. No amount of beautiful writing is going to make it into Mythaxis if there isn’t an actual story going on within the text as well. Be stylish, be experimental, be anything you want, but always be a storyteller, not just a wordsmith. 

SQF: What do you look for in the opening paragraph(s)/stanza(s) of a submission?

 

ALH: A single, short, declarative sentence, an island set apart from the story that follows.

No, wait: that’s something that I absolutely don’t need to see, because it’s become so prevalent in genre short fiction that there must be a hundred thousand How To Write ebooks out there telling everyone that’s the only way to do it. So many submissions start like this, and I often think to myself, What is that tiny little line doing for this thing exactly - other than following the trend? I’ve encountered a few where that first “paragraph” basically paraphrases the story’s title, or gives away what the whole story is about before I read it, in both cases I can’t think of anything more redundant.

For me, there isn’t a particular thing I look for positively in an opening paragraph, at least not at first sight; maybe come the end of a story I’ll look back and think, That really worked, good choice, but when I’m making my decision I’m looking at the whole story, not just the start of it. More common is when an opening fails in some way: early stage typos are a bad sign, first impressions do count generally, so of course the beginning should be given close attention by the author. But trying too hard to deliver a knock-out first sentence that’s going to blow my socks off looks like exactly that: trying too hard.

Opening on a good hook is fine, but not every story needs to signpost itself up front. Sometimes a slow burn start is the right choice. Subtlety works. There is no single way of doing short fiction.

SQF: Many editors list erotica, or sex for sex sake, as hard sells. What are hard sells for your publication?

 

ALH: Well, we’re not a market for erotica so I don’t anticipate receiving any and haven’t to date. Sex in fiction is like sex in life: nice if it’s good, but there’s a time and a place. I’ve no problem with a sex scene, if it fits into the context. And if it happens in a submission, sure, the same…

However, there are a few other things that are going to struggle to find a place at Mythaxis, and first amongst them (despite our name) is retellings of Greek mythology. We get a lot, especially Persephone and Hades for some reason, and I always have to steel myself to go at one again. We did publish an example in our Spring 2021 issue, so it’s not impossible, but authors might want to consider that the exception which proves the rule has already happened.

Contemporary religious themes are not out of the question, but in my experience that’s a delicate line to walk in spec-fic, and it’s not a topic I have a personal interest in. Self-harm or suicide as a subject is also exceedingly difficult to handle well, though I wouldn’t exclude either because important discussions can be had, and the scope for how any subject can be explored is wider in fantastical fiction than in more realist modes of writing.

Of course, there’s also needlessly extreme content, sometimes the kind of thing you’d imagine would barely warrant listing: bestiality crops up from time to time, please no more. I’m perfectly fine with violence in fiction, but graphic torture and stories that trivially incorporate the killing of children are not going to find a home here.

SQF: What one question on this topic do you wish I'd asked that I didn't? And how would you answer it?

 

ALH: “What genre of story do you wish you saw more of?”

I have a great interest in utopian fiction. There’s a perception that dark, sharp, sexy Dystopia has the monopoly on drama and Utopia is, therefore, the boring, too-nice, wallflower sibling. This couldn’t be further from the truth. Typically, dystopias present a terrible world and show the fight to bring it down, but they rarely hang around for the rebuilding that inevitably has to follow. Utopias offer a different perspective: not necessarily being set in a perfect world, sometimes far from it, their point is to present the challenge of improving our collective lot, moving humanity a step forward, so we can look around, evaluate our new circumstance, and try to move us all forward again.

This kind of generally positive perspective doesn’t eradicate the need for conflict. I have no burning interest in reading The Rough Guide To My Fantastic Future World, but describing how the participants of an exciting, unfamiliar environment overcome their obstacles is far from dull (and often allows just as much potential for critiquing contemporary society as dystopias do).

Send me stimulating utopias!

Thank you, Andrew. We all appreciate your taking time from your busy schedule to participate in this project.