Uncategorized
FRIGG n’ Microfiction
Frigg Magazine’s All Microfiction Issue is out, featuring Kim Chinquee, Lydia Copeland, Kathy Fish, Scott Garson, Barry Graham, Tiff Holland, Mary Miller, Kim Parko, Jennifer Pieroni, Meg Pokrass, Joseph Young, and Randall Brown — the latter two whom debate on “What is microfiction?” (Why argue? The purple-quilled ladies of Fiction Factor provide the answer here.)
I always like how each writer is given their own front page e-bookish thing. My only commentary is I don’t like the parenthetical word counts which precede each piece, kinda distracting. I also don’t like it when editors ask for word counts. It’s like — look. Just look at the story. Is it long or short? Do your eyes feel okay? What did you have for breakfast? Can you not do us the favor of doing a ‘word count’ in ‘tools’ in your ‘word document’ since you have ‘fingers’ and ‘volition’ and since you’re such a curious person.
Sorry about that. Here’s my point: read the new issue of Frigg, and good job everyone.
Tags: frigg, microfiction, word count
GReAT issue. I ate it like a caramel apple.
GReAT issue. I ate it like a caramel apple.
I have to disagree – I very much enjoy word count – it’s a little like looking at all the Nobel Prize winners in the sauna while they are naked and sweaty. Sure, he won a Nobel Prize, you think to yourself, but look at those buttocks–they’re sweaty, and rather mushy. In other words: sure, that was a great story, but it was 212 words. I can write 212 words. In fact, I can even write 213, or more. And they won’t be mushy, neither.
Sincerely,
Crispy Flotilla
89 words
I have to disagree – I very much enjoy word count – it’s a little like looking at all the Nobel Prize winners in the sauna while they are naked and sweaty. Sure, he won a Nobel Prize, you think to yourself, but look at those buttocks–they’re sweaty, and rather mushy. In other words: sure, that was a great story, but it was 212 words. I can write 212 words. In fact, I can even write 213, or more. And they won’t be mushy, neither.
Sincerely,
Crispy Flotilla
89 words
it makes me think of opiums ‘reading time’
i get it here, with this issue of frigg because it was to place emphasis on stories 200 words or less.
but the reading times at opium? no one questions that?
it makes me think of opiums ‘reading time’
i get it here, with this issue of frigg because it was to place emphasis on stories 200 words or less.
but the reading times at opium? no one questions that?
i’ve always felt like the reading times at opium were kind of silly but it was somewhat clever of them to think of the idea, so my feeling has been “good job opium, you win this round” or like the feeling you get when someone makes a terrible pun but you roll your eyes and laugh anyway. i think it’s mostly a good feeling.
i’ve always felt like the reading times at opium were kind of silly but it was somewhat clever of them to think of the idea, so my feeling has been “good job opium, you win this round” or like the feeling you get when someone makes a terrible pun but you roll your eyes and laugh anyway. i think it’s mostly a good feeling.
Estimated reading time: 3:50 / 408 words
I think Opium’s reading times enable me to choose a story based on how motivated I’m feeling. Then again with opium.print I inevitably read everything at least once and am never disappointed or feeling cheated for not being in the issue.
I love Opium and Opium’s reading times.
I think that both FRiGG and Opium deserve diplomatic immunity from HTMLGiant cruelty and prosecution.
I think the word counts made sense on this issue. I also think that if I didn’t specify a range of words for submission to dispatch, I’d get a lot of things I don’t have any interest in reading or publishing and would send out even more rejection notices, which would not work for anyone. In the beginning, there was a universally accepted manuscript format which insisted that every writer, regardless of race, sexuality, race, sexuality, or race or sexuality, include her word count. Now few people ask for a proper manuscript, and I’m not exactly sure why. I don’t intend to, either, but I think life would be easier for everyone if everyone did, and here’s why: so many magazines want me to paste my submission into the body of an e-mail, and further they refuse to accept a next-generation file format (ODT) for submission. So a lot of times I have to reformat my submissions seven or eight times before they’re ever published. And that’s just as bullshit as an editor asking for a word count, at least. And Jimmy Chen’s rant was unwarranted. And maybe I’m biased because FRiGG popped my cherry long ago re: online lit and Ellen Parker is like one of my only living supporters. But nonetheless, I think bringing back the proper manuscript would do everyone good: because then you’d just attach the same file to multiple e-mails and it would work for everyone you submitted it to. And I almost forgot: your fonts annoy editors. Courier New is a standard font anyone can deal with which is available on any operating system since the mid-nineties or so (include BeOS, if I remember). Times New Roman is also available on many operating systems, but the trouble with it is that it does not give the editor a good idea of how much space the piece is actually going to take up on a page, whereas a fixed-width font like Courier or Courier New does.
Yes to reading times, yes to word counts.
Estimated reading time: 3:50 / 408 words
I think Opium’s reading times enable me to choose a story based on how motivated I’m feeling. Then again with opium.print I inevitably read everything at least once and am never disappointed or feeling cheated for not being in the issue.
I love Opium and Opium’s reading times.
I think that both FRiGG and Opium deserve diplomatic immunity from HTMLGiant cruelty and prosecution.
I think the word counts made sense on this issue. I also think that if I didn’t specify a range of words for submission to dispatch, I’d get a lot of things I don’t have any interest in reading or publishing and would send out even more rejection notices, which would not work for anyone. In the beginning, there was a universally accepted manuscript format which insisted that every writer, regardless of race, sexuality, race, sexuality, or race or sexuality, include her word count. Now few people ask for a proper manuscript, and I’m not exactly sure why. I don’t intend to, either, but I think life would be easier for everyone if everyone did, and here’s why: so many magazines want me to paste my submission into the body of an e-mail, and further they refuse to accept a next-generation file format (ODT) for submission. So a lot of times I have to reformat my submissions seven or eight times before they’re ever published. And that’s just as bullshit as an editor asking for a word count, at least. And Jimmy Chen’s rant was unwarranted. And maybe I’m biased because FRiGG popped my cherry long ago re: online lit and Ellen Parker is like one of my only living supporters. But nonetheless, I think bringing back the proper manuscript would do everyone good: because then you’d just attach the same file to multiple e-mails and it would work for everyone you submitted it to. And I almost forgot: your fonts annoy editors. Courier New is a standard font anyone can deal with which is available on any operating system since the mid-nineties or so (include BeOS, if I remember). Times New Roman is also available on many operating systems, but the trouble with it is that it does not give the editor a good idea of how much space the piece is actually going to take up on a page, whereas a fixed-width font like Courier or Courier New does.
Yes to reading times, yes to word counts.
that took forever
that took forever