Guest Blogger: Simon Marshall- Jones

Guest Blogger: Simon Marshall- Jones

So, here I am, a new writer, starting out and ready to jump head-first into the arena of story submissions, all-too frequent rejections (a summarily dismissive soulless email, more often than not these days) and the rare triumph of an acceptance. Quite presumptuous of me really, isn’t it? Me thinking that there are people out there who may like my work enough to want to read it, or even worse, thinking that I may garner myself some ‘fans’ who will avidly collect any and all instances of my work either in print or online. Factor into that the thousands of others out there who, like me, would love to turn what is essentially a hugely enjoyable and distracting hobby into a way of earning a little money. And then there’s the already well-established competition – those whose quality has elevated them above the general morass of verbiage that gets pumped out on a daily basis in this technologically-democratic, digital age.

So why did I start writing? Simply because of a profoundly saddening dream I had in that grey interregnum between the walls of sleep and wakefulness one morning – I woke up with the image of a feather resting on a pillow, accompanied by an unexpected, fathomless grief. That’s all it took to inspire me to start composing “Feathers”, my first ever short story (which, amazingly [and surprisingly], was accepted for publication on my very first submittal). A real ‘heart-on-sleeve’ job, as is the writer’s wont. I would like to think that it was an assured confidence that persuaded me to submit that story, but it would be closer to the truth to say that it was probably done in a moment of mental aberration: if I’d been in my ‘right’ mind I probably wouldn’t have answered the call for submissions.

Following on from that first successful submission, though, I was encouraged enough to send in more stories to other places, albeit with less success. However, unlike a few would-be writers I’ve come across, I was very much aware that being ‘noticed’ (whatever that means, when all is said and done) is a long hard slog, akin to climbing Everest without any prior mountaineering experience or with only the barest of equipment. Luckily, I am well-equipped with at least one essential quality: persistence. Plus I am more than happy to listen to advice from those who have already trodden the path (thanks to Messrs Duffy, Unsworth and McMahon especially on this).

And so, I’ve been scribbling furiously ever since, churning out contemporary fantasy/supernatural/ghostly/horror tales, with varying degrees of job satisfaction. However, getting inspiration and physically getting down to the writing is one thing: actually thinking that people would want to read what I’ve written is another. Which brings me to the point of this blog: is it simply a mild form of temporary insanity, or blindly self-assured chutzpah, or maybe just plain arrogance (or even a combination thereof), that animates people into sending out their efforts to editors, publishers and agents, and into a particularly difficult and sometimes cruel world?

I have read a lot in my time, and I can say with some assurance that my material is a great deal better than many a published piece I’ve encountered: conversely, I recognise that there are some authors whose work will always stand head and shoulders above mine. I guess I am trying to do is to find my place within the multi-layered strata that constitutes the hierarchy of the writing world. But I have never been convinced by the idea of self-publishing, a hangover possibly from what it used to be called – ‘vanity publishing’. Neither have I been persuaded by the concept of uploading my writings to a dedicated web-page, as has been suggested to me – probably out of a sense of horror at people possibly stealing my material and claiming it as their own discouraging me from adopting that route.

And so that leaves me with the only option (sensible or otherwise): arming myself with some links to publishers and established magazines and such-like, and just sending stories to all and sundry in the hope that someone will like them. The old principle of ‘hurl enough shit at a wall and some of it will eventually stick’, with an additional dash of hopeless optimism. I do have a modicum of self-belief, and I also believe that some of my stories will one day be anthologised in a book or two. And. like I pointed out above, I know that my stuff IS better than some that’s out there, so at least I have a sliver of a chance.

There’s also a part of me that’s mad enough to think I can compete with the ‘stars’ of the scene, too. It’s that latter aspect that prompted to think about why new writers even consider putting themselves through such a tough wringer – my life is pretty complicated enough as it is, without piling that on top. So why willingly embrace the spectre of editorial; and critical rejection?

Well, in my case, as much as I look forward to the possibility of being spoken of in the same breath as the names of some of my favourite writers, it’s all about the exploration of the worlds in my head. And these are MY stories: whether they’re read or approved of by others is irrelevant. Whether I get a single fan as a result, or a million, is also beside the point. I do this out of sheer enjoyment of loving to delve into the heart of the written word, of transcribing what I see and imagine in my head to the blank piece of virtual ‘paper’ in front of me. We, as a species, are fascinated by stories, and we spend every day sharing our stories with others. I, and those like me, are merely writing ours down and trying to extend our networks when we submit them to an editor’s scrutiny. I think it’s an extension of the ‘sitting round the campfire and telling tales’ urge of our long-ago ancestors – a way of reaching out and bringing people together in a form of social cohesion. Presumptuous yes, but entirely human – and I am only following a long and hallowed tradition.

Bio:

Simon Marshall-Jones, writer and artist: I was born in Wales in the early sixties, to parents who absolutely loved and cherished books - needless to say, MY love of books was instilled by such a positive influence. I attended art college, where I nurtured dreams of being the next HR Giger: that soon went by the wayside when I led a post-college life of decadence and hedonism as a member of the Eskimos, a bunch of ne’er-do-wells who hit the road regularly to get drunk at The Mission gigs and at festivals around the UK/Europe for a few years. I then went back to university in Plymouth, to study computer multimedia, the only reward for which was managing to have a stroke. Since then, I have had a much better time of it: I now have one wife, one stepson, seven cats, two dogs, two rabbits and two guinea-pigs, live in the East Midlands and don’t have enough tattoos. I also ran a small independent record label for a couple of years, FracturedSpaces.

Favourite authors include Clive Barker, China Mieville, Umberto Eco, Gene Wolfe, Robert Silverberg, Philip K. Dick. For non-fiction thrills, you’ll find me reading books on the cultural and social attitudes towards death and dying since the Middle Ages – in this respect, I would like to actually gain a degree in anthropology at some point. I write quiet, quirky supernatural/ghostly/horror/urban fantasy/speculative fiction (first story to be published in summer 2010 by Paraphilia Books), and also write CD reviews for a music webzine and book reviews for bookgeeks.co.uk and Horror Reanimated. 

Simon's Facebook page is here: http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/profile.php?id=770249812