Warning: This is a personal rant, so you will miss nothing if you decide not to read on.
The anthology is a project I put together to help get unpublished authors published. In 2004, there were ten successful stories (including mine) and they still haven’t found a publisher. My attempts to recify this keep coming to a dead end and I fear that the only way for these stories to be published is to look into becoming a publisher myself and self-publishing.
However, the participants are not doing their part. I ask questions, I get no reply. I give reports on where the queries and/or submissions are at and I get no feedback. I feel like I’m dealing with dead people (this doesn’t apply to everyone; two people have been consistent in their attitude and enthusiasm, and I thank them for that, it’s the only reason I’ve carried on).
I believe in the stories and their authors. I believe the published book would be a stepping stone for everyone concerned, but if the authors don’t care enough to actively take part in discussions or can’t be bothered spending an hour or so finding more links to help me place these stories (let alone visit the board in the first place), why should I bother?
The 2005 participants have to be “ordered” about too and I can see that the same thing will happen with the second batch of stories. It’s getting on my nerves.
The anthology is a collective project. It’s in our best interest that everyone pulls together and makes decisions, rather than leave everything up to me. I’m willing to pay for paper, ink, postage to and from the destination – it’s cost me almost $400 to date – and I’m willing to write the queries and submission letters, and keep track of the endless “not interested” replies and ensure there are five queries out at any one time.
All I ask in return is NOT to have to plead and beg for feedback and replies, and for the authors to show an interest. Is that too much to ask? Don’t they care where THEIR stories end up? It’s so frustrating.
Then, to top things off, I had a friendship that I valued (a lot) which feels like it’s no longer a friendship. I’ve struggled for two months to hold onto what used to be there, but I fear the thread is fading (and quickly). This has left me with feelings of loss. I may have to make a decision about this issue soon because it’s causing me stress. I don’t need stress in my life, my health won’t allow it. However, the way it’s going I won’t have to say or do anything because the friendship is dissolving all by itself. *sigh*
I’m feeling let down but I can’t tell if it’s all in my mind, or if it’s real. It was so much easier when I thought I was the only person in the world writing a novel.