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Savage Worlds Adventure Edition — First Impressions

I picked up the Savage Worlds Adventure Edition in anticipation of the the physical book release of the (somewhat confusingly-named) Secret World Special Edition for Savage Worlds. I have the D&D/d20 rules book, but I was not very satisfied with the way the Secret World mechanics came across in that—they seemed about as clunky as they could possibly be.

The main issue I had with the 5e rules is all the bookkeeping around archetypes, a system that Secret World introduces to give characters bundles of spells, proficiencies, features and special abilities. Characters trade out and gain access to more archetypes as they level up, and can swap their active archetype any time they rest.

D&D, as the default TTRPG system, has been used to run just about every kind of game, and the 5e SWL (perhaps grudgingly) is designed to allow that flexibility. But TTRPGs have trended toward lighter and less combat focused mechanics over the years. 5e is lighter than some earlier versions of D&D, but still a rules-heavy, “crunchy” system. I haven’t yet read through D&D Next/5.5e, but the impression I get is that it’s incremental adjustments to 5e, not a sea change.

My hope for Savage Worlds was a system with more adaptability than 5e—after all, it’s specifically designed to be a multi-setting, “generic” system.

I’ll note up front that I haven’t played a Savage Worlds session yet. These are just my first impressions from reading through the core book and doing a little online research.

Being Everything to Everyone

From what I’ve seen, there are a few styles of generic TTRPG system. Some “genericized” systems are based on a more specific system stripped of its setting and perhaps some setting-specific details. “Extensible” systems are usually much simpler and tend to be copied and modified/extended for new styles of play or settings. And “base layer” systems try to be truly generic for any setting, sometimes even to the point of including tables of weapons and skills that range from Stone Age to far-future.

D&D has accidentally become a genericized system that at least aspires to supporting all types of play, even though its native settings of Faerun and Greyhawk are both fantasy. The Cypher system has similar aspirations, but is really just Numenara and The Strange (and I’ve never personally encountered a group that played The Strange.)

Apocalypse World and Blades in the Dark are the two games I think of when it comes to extensible systems. They’ve spawned countless other games by virtue of the flexibility and simplicity of the Powered by the Apocalypse and Forged in the Dark scaffolding.

Then there are the truly generic “base layer” systems. I often find that on first blush these are some of the least compelling core books on game store shelves. They have terrible names, like GURPS, and they lack strong settings, which tend to be what draws me into TTRPGs. These games are designed to change settings like changing clothes.

Savage Worlds is definitely a “base layer” system. From their catalogue, Deadlands is clearly their best-seller, but it does seem to just be a western-horror setting on top of Savage Worlds, not the expected default.

Assumptions vs. Reality

Going into the core rule book, I assumed that Savage Worlds would be less rules-heavy than D&D, unburden the GM, support grid combat and theater-of-the-mind equally, and make its rules modular for easy swapping. I found that some of these assumptions were accurate, and some were definitely not.

It is quickly apparent that the system is very crunchy, and combat rules are designed first and foremost for grid-based miniatures-based combat. A full set of TTRPG dice are used, although it seems that d20s are rarely used.

There are tables full of equipment and vehicles, past, present, and future. Armor and injuries are body-part specific.

The system does try to limit the headaches for GMs. The most complicated bit seems to be resolving actions and attacks, with rolls for hit, rolls for damage, calculations for armor, exploding dice, and extra “wild dice” for player characters and important villains. But ordinary henchmen and bad guys are simplified, and there is no HP to track. Characters are either up, shaken, wounded or incapacitated.

This simplified damage system seems like it will have a lot of knock-on effects. Damage will be swingy, with attacks either doing effectively nothing, or rapidly removing the character from combat.

Bennies

The other very important system that’s somewhat unique to Savage Worlds is Bennies. Short for “benefits,” these are tokens that can be used for soaking damage, recovering from shaken status, re-rolling dice, and various other things.

My initial impression of Bennies was that they are a bigger, better version of D&D Inspiration. However, where Inspiration has an occasional impact on the game, it sounds like Bennies are a constant, central mechanic of Savage Worlds. Because combat can be so swingy, Bennies give players and GM a direct way to push back and change outcomes. Unlike the singleton Inspiration, Bennies are a pool of tokens, and managing them is key to success.

Flexibility

The system does a decent job of making the rules modular. There are five pages of core combat rules, and thirteen pages of separate, more situational rules. Specialized systems are presented for chases, dramatic tasks like bomb diffusing or safe cracking, horror/fear, mass battles, info-seeking/investigation, and more. Any of these could be easily swapped out.

“Powers” provide a scaffolding for magic in settings that have it, but can also be used for super powers, cybernetics, psionics, or anything similar.

The Usual Complaints

As is typical with TTRPG core books, I find the layout frustrating. Why does the Gear chapter come before the two Rules chapters? Is it because equipment is needed for character creation? But powers will also be needed, and that chapter comes later…

The book also fails to properly highlight the importance of certain mechanics. I only began to understand the importance of Bennies and the flow of combat when I ventured online to try to resolve some of the confusion the book had left me with.

These things would also be more obvious with the inclusion of some examples. I have long maintained that any core book should include at least a brief example adventure and some accounts of what the flow of actual play looks like. Sadly, many games outsource the actual play to randos on YouTube, where it can be difficult to tell if you’ve found a good example or not. Pinnacle at least offers some free “test drives” in multiple genres on their website.

Conclusions

While there are things I like and dislike so far about Savage Worlds, I’m withholding any judgement until I get a chance to GM it. Since I’m mainly interested in the system for Secret World, the quality of those additions will be a factor. I do think there are some interesting ideas here, and I may try the test drive adventures to get a feel for what carries over between settings, and what differs.

If you’ve played this latest edition of Savage Worlds, leave a comment and let me know what the experience was like. I’ll post an update when I get my paws on the Secret World Special Edition book and have a chance to try it out.

Week 11 — Year of Short Stories 2026

2026 is another year of short stories. In this weekly series, I talk about short story writing, from idea and draft to submission.

This is week eleven: Mar. 16-22.

Stats

  • Stories Finished: 2
  • Submissions Currently Out: 8
  • Submissions Total: 15
  • Rejections: 11
  • Acceptances: 0

Goals and Results

My goals for last week were:

  1. Prep a story to queue up for Critters.
  2. Start the post-Critters revisions for F-TIB.
  3. Get ahead on critiques.

This was a quiet week on the writing front. IN the end, I received over twenty critiques and responses to my story, F-TIB. I suspect this is partly because it’s right in the sweet spot for Critters—long enough to count for full credit, but not much longer.

The feedback was mostly very good, but there is so much that it took a good chunk of my weekend to begin to catalog it and think about what I want to do in revisions.

I did not get ahead on critiques, and while I know which story I will submit next, it needs more work before I throw it to the wolves.

Submissions and Responses

I received two rejections this week: one for The Incident at Pleasant Hills and one for Taco Cat. I spent some time searching new publications to send them to, and found two for each story. So out they go again.

Next Week

Since I didn’t get through my goals last week, they will carry over to next week. I am going to let F-TIB sit for at least a week to give the feedback a chance to

Goals for next week:

  1. Get ahead on critiques.
  2. Prep a story to queue up for Critters.

Solarpunk Syllabus

I recently purchased a solarpunk anthology, and it led me into a minor fixation on this lesser-known sub-genre of science fiction. Last week I wrote an introduction to solarpunk, but I’ve barely scratched the surface. I’ve been exploring the web to find more, and compiling a little syllabus for my own self-directed course.

Since I’m taking the time to write it all down, I figured I might as well put it out as a resource for anyone else who is interested in digging a little deeper. (As usual, I’m providing Bookshop.org affiliate links where possible – these support me and local bookstores.)

It’s interesting to note that most of the solarpunk fiction I’ve found so far is anthologized short stories—fitting considering my renewed focus on short fiction this year.

Short Fiction

Novels

(Retroactively Categorized as Solarpunk)

Articles and Essays

Posts and Lists

Related

Week 10 — Year of Short Stories 2026

2026 is another year of short stories. In this weekly series, I talk about short story writing, from idea and draft to submission.

This is week ten: Mar. 9-15.

Stats

  • Stories Finished: 2
  • Submissions Currently Out: 6
  • Submissions Total: 11
  • Rejections: 9
  • Acceptances: 0

Goals and Results

My goals for last week were:

  1. Get my Critters ratio in the green by Wednesday.
  2. Catch up on my word count goal, and possibly finish the first draft of Out of Towner.
  3. Submit Taco Cat.

I had a story in the Critters queue, and I needed to get my ratio up to ensure it went out. I got that done early in the week, the story went out, and the feedback has been steadily coming in.

I haven’t finished Out of Towner, but I’ve made some good progress. I think the story probably needs another 500 words or so to wrap it up. I’ll see if I can get to that this week. I also wrote a few hundred words of a solarpunk idea that may or may not go anywhere. Either way, I’m happy to now be well ahead of my word count and editing goals for March.

Submissions and Responses

I had a form rejection for my drabble Tom, Dick, and Larry, which I sent out to a drabble-specific themed issue. I have a couple of these 100 word stories knocking around, but I mostly only send them out these days when I see a flash fiction theme that fits them.

I also received a personalized rejection for The Incident at Pleasant Hills. I’ve been submitting this story for a while now, and while it has gotten positive feedback a couple of times, it just hasn’t gotten across the finish line. I think it’s a good story that will eventually find a home, so I sent it out again.

I also sent out a pair of submissions for Taco Cat Employee Manual. That keeps it active and covers goal #3 for the week.

Next Week

The Critters’ critiques of my story, F-TIB, will finish rolling in by Wednesday. At that point, I’ll have a bunch of notes to work through. I will also want to get another story in the queue as quickly as possible. I think the next one on the docket is called Hunter’s Apprentice. I’ll need to read through it a few times and try to get it as polished as possible (for a draft that only a couple people have read).

I’d also like to get one or two critiques ahead. I didn’t enjoy having a tight deadline to get those done so my story would go out. Getting ahead makes that less of a concern.

Goals for next week:

  1. Prep a story to queue up for Critters.
  2. Start the post-Critters revisions for F-TIB.
  3. Get ahead on critiques.

Solarpunk 101

The term “solarpunk” has been on my radar for a couple years: a fuzzy idea of a genre that has ecology and climate change near its center, and the overused “-punk” suffix that we can no longer trust to have much real meaning.

When I finally picked up an actual solarpunk anthology at my local Half-Price Books, the introduction sent me spiraling down an Internet rabbit hole. I found myself with 30 tabs of solarpunk open, at least that many already combed through, and a small pile of dead links and dead ends.

The term solarpunk is now more than a decade old, but it still exists in the periphery, the outskirts and wild country of sci-fi, futurism, fashion, and politics. It may be a short-lived idea that never achieves critical mass. Only time will tell if it’s something that has actually taken root and begun to grow.

As evidence of this tenuous position, I submit most articles, posts, and papers that mention solarpunk. The vast majority are just like this one: explanations that attempt to answer “What is it, really?”

And yet, there is a cult following. Among this small cohort, there is clearly a hunger for more of this genre and aesthetic. There appears to be a demand that far outstrips the supply (a couple anthologies, small online magazines, and a smattering of discourse).

I’d love to talk about where solarpunk might go, and how it can grow and gain traction. But I’ll have to save that for later posts. First, I have to start where everyone starts. What is solarpunk?

Origins

The first piece of Solarpunk literature generally cited is Solarpunk: Historias Ecologicas e Fantasticas em um Mundo Sustentavel—a 2013 Brazilian anthology, first published in English in 2018.

Another widely cited early work is a Tumblr post that popularized the term on that platform. The tag now has 20k followers.

Solarpunk – Notes Toward a Manifesto is a somewhat more academic treatment of the nascent movement and the ideas that influence it.

The Aesthetics of Solarpunk

There aren’t any. Not really.

Well, okay, that’s just my personal position. Others will disagree.

There aren’t any. Not really. This is my position. Others will disagree.

Plants and nature have an obvious place in it. Stained glass and art nouveau have been proposed as a component. Reclaimed and recycled materials, decomposable and natural materials; metal, glass, fabric, stone and wood. Less plastic. Or the polar opposite of Apple’s design philosophies.

A fair amount of ink has been spilled trying to corral an aesthetic, but these attempts often come at it from the wrong direction. You can’t start with an aesthetic and then back into a genre from there. The recognizable elements of cyberpunk and steampunk were distilled from many examples of those genres.

I’d argue that there simply aren’t enough popular examples of solarpunk to achieve the critical mass needed for generally agreed-upon aesthetics to emerge. That’s okay. It’s exciting. The field is still wide open, and resonant ideas still have a chance to shape what the genre might become.

The Politics of Solarpunk

If the “punk” in cyberpunk and steampunk ever held any political connotations, I would argue that they have long been ground down and worn out. The philosophy of cyberpunk is largely nihilistic: a wildly unequal world full of wealth disparity, desperation, and hopelessness, where the unification of corporate greed and governmental control has made the rich practically unassailable. If I were a cynic, I might say it’s a slightly grimier, neon-lighted version of the world we appear to be living in.

The politics of steampunk is anachronistic Victorian British, which isn’t much better.

Solarpunk might have more right to claim “punk” than its older siblings. It has an inherently political core: a belief that the average Joe has the duty to fight back against the status quo, that the system dominated by corporatism, greed, indifference to human rights, and ecological catastrophe must be overthrown. It’s a belief in individualism and self-sufficiency, but also in local small communities, human- and environmentally-conscious economics, and grassroots support systems.

This is a modern twist on the original punk movement of the 70s and 80s, strongly anti-authority and inherently suspicious of both government and corporatism. Wild and chaotic, but also joyful in a way that only people living on the edge of desperation can be.

Solarpunk currently has a streak of willful nonviolence (at least toward people). This, perhaps, runs contrary to the punk ethos that if The Man is going to push you down, you had better go down swinging, and knock some of his teeth out along the way. I suspect there might be a real audience for a rougher, more violent strain of eco-fiction like this, but I’m not sure it could call itself solarpunk.

The Challenges of Writing Solarpunk

The first challenge, as you might already suspect, is trying to define the boundaries of the genre and writing within them. Solarpunk invites you to choose your own adventure, and then find out whether others think you’ve hit the mark.

The second, and much bigger problem, I feel, is that solarpunk strives for a utopic vision, and utopias are dangerously boring. Nobody wants to read a story where all the challenges and difficulties have been smoothed out. That’s why so many utopias turn out to be dystopias once the protagonist discovers a few nasty truths.

Luckily, the road to utopia is rough, and there are plenty of solarpunk stories to be told along the way. I see the best place for solarpunk stories living in the time between the present and some glorious, distant future.

That brings us to the third challenge: imagining solutions to very hard, very real problems. We don’t live in a solarpunk utopia today because there are daunting technological, societal, political, and economic challenges that prevent it. Those conflicts and tensions are fertile ground for stories, but they also require some serious thought about how we should try to overcome them.

The soft sci-fi of technobabble problems and technobabble solutions don’t work well here. The readers of today are all too familiar with climate change, oligopoly, and enshittification. A story that proposes half-hearted or unrealistic solutions to these modern woes will fall flat. It’s not easy to imagine solutions (or even battle tactics) that feel plausible. And yet, this is one of the great delights of science fiction, and a reason why the genre continues to inspire the real future. People use stories to make sense of the world.

Future Positive

I hope this brief introduction has whet your appetite for more. Although it’s young, solarpunk strikes me as a genre that is shockingly well-suited to the current moment. We don’t need the nihilism of cyberpunk or the escapist fantasy of steampunk. We need something grounded and fighting mad.

Solarpunk takes the energy and anti-authority attitude of classic punk, and marries it with determined optimism and ethical technology. It is a rebuttal to the world outside the window, and an opportunity to imagine better futures.

Week 9 — Year of Short Stories 2026

2026 is another year of short stories. In this weekly series, I talk about short story writing, from idea and draft to submission.

This is week nine: Mar. 2 – 8.

Stats

  • Stories Finished: 2
  • Submissions Currently Out: 5
  • Submissions Total: 8
  • Rejections: 7
  • Acceptances: 0

Goals and Results

My goals for last week were:

  1. Submit critiques.
  2. Start a new story.

It was a busy week outside of writing, but I’ll count both of these for partial credit. I did work on my Critters critiques, but I still need to get one more done before Wednesday. F-TIB is scheduled to go out for review this week, and I’d rather not have it delayed for a week while I get caught up.

Despite my noises last week about giving up on Out of Towner, I actually wrote six or seven more pages. I was able to employ that classing writing technique of just skipping over the part I wasn’t sure about. That means I’ll have to come back to that part later, but at least I can hope that I’ll have a better perspective on it when the rest of the story is done. That goal is a partial miss only because I’m still a few hundred words behind my self-imposed average daily word count.

Rejections

I marked down three rejections this week. One was from Clarkesworld, a magazine I love not only for the fiction they publish, but for their absolutely no-nonsense attitude toward submissions and crazy fast turnaround times for reading submissions. I send a lot of new stories their way, because I know I’ll get a response in a couple days; basically unmatched speed among high-tier pro markets.

Another of these was a non-response from a magazine whose Duotrope stats show it averages non-responses on 5-10% of its submissions. These are a thing that everyone who submits a lot will run into eventually, but it’s still annoying. I do my best to act professionally as a writer, and I expect the same from publishers I’m submitting to. On the other hand, it’s a real AI-slopfest-shitshow in publishing right now, and you never know what an overstrained, underpaid editorial staff might be going through.

Next Week

My goals for next week:

  1. Get my Critters ratio in the green by Wednesday.
  2. Catch up on my word count goal, and possibly finish the first draft of Out of Towner.
  3. Submit Taco Cat.

How to Edit Short Stories: An Example

My writing time for the past few weeks has been  focused on revision. My latest story, Red Eye, has now been reworked more thoroughly than any other short story I’ve written.

Does that make it the best thing I’ve ever written? No, not necessarily. There are a million factors that determine a story’s quality. What careful revision does is help make a story the best possible version of itself.

I’ve written about revision before:

I think revision is not discussed enough. This is partly because there’s more romanticism to first drafts: the blank page, the whispers of the muse, and bringing a new piece of art into the world. The raw creative energy of a first draft.

But first drafts often aren’t that good. They can be misshapen and muddled. They may be missing pieces, or not quite sure what they want to be. Like the golem, revision takes a roughly shaped form and puts magic into it that brings it to life.

First, I’ll outline some basic principles. Then I’ll discuss how they played out in my revisions for Red Eye.

Principles of Editing

These are a few things that work for me. Use what works for you and ignore what doesn’t. I am never entirely consistent with this process. I’m always changing and trying new ways of working.

Each story also has different requirements. So even if you have a consistent general process, it may still need to adapt to each individual story’s needs.

Focus on the Core Concept

Unlike longer works, short stories don’t have much room for meandering and asides. They work best when they have a distinct core concept. This might be an idea, a plot point or twist, a character, or even the structure of how the story is told.

There are many different engines that can power a story and drive it forward. The core concept is often very close to whatever got me excited about writing the story in the first place, although some stories will turn out to have a completely different focus from what you expected when you started writing.

The core concept is the measure for everything else in the story. Anything that doesn’t  strengthen, deepen, or explore the core concept should be questioned and considered for removal.

Get External Feedback

The written word is an imperfect communication channel. The author stands on one side, with an idea of the story in their head. The reader stands on the other. Between them: two cans connected with string. This is the story, and just because you think you’re sending it with perfect clarity over the wire doesn’t mean the reader is receiving it the way you want them to.

The only way to effectively reconcile the story in your head with the story the reader received is to ask them. If you aren’t used to detailed feedback, you may be surprised how many different experiences and interpretations a dozen readers can have with the exact same story.

The first challenge is finding those readers. Friends and family may be an option. Writing groups and online critiques are another. More is generally better, but the sweet spot is probably 5-15 readers. Fewer, and you’ll miss useful critique, more and it will become overwhelming.

The second challenge is parsing the feedback. Put aside ego and be as open and honest as you can be. Some feedback you will disagree with. The reader may want something that doesn’t align with your core concept. The reader may identify a valid problem, but offer a bad solution. Individual readers will inevitably miss or misinterpret things, or get confused. This isn’t necessarily a problem if it’s only one reader in fifteen. If multiple readers have the same issue, it deserves scrutiny.

The final challenge is deciding what to change. It may be helpful to start with a list of problems, and then translate those into solutions. One change may be able to fix several problems, or one problem may necessitate several changes. I like to make checklists and take many editing passes, focusing on one or two things each time.

Big to Small

Try to make big, sweeping changes before line edits and more localized changes. It’s a waste of time to polish a paragraph if you’re just going to delete or replace the whole scene later.

This is something to strive for, but editing is an iterative process, so don’t stress over it too much.  Sometimes an epiphany doesn’t strike until deep into the editing process. Don’t let the sunk cost fallacy discourage changes that will make a story better. 

Cut, Cut, Cut

This was a hard lesson for me to internalize. If you have a naturally flowery or verbose style, it’s perfectly fine to run wild in early drafts. However, it’s important to cut that back as much as possible in revisions. Even first drafts written in a sparse style can often be trimmed significantly.

When cutting, look at what reinforces the core concept. Compare the trimmed and untrimmed versions of a sentence or paragraph. Be honest about what is really lost when removing a word here or there. Only keep what’s valuable.

Value isn’t measured solely in understandability of the plot. It may be critical characterization, or lyricism, or structure. You should be able to articulate why a cut doesn’t work, and default to brevity.

If you’re not used to ruthless cutting, it may feel bad at first. Short stories are an inherently tight medium, and given two versions of a story, the one that can say the same things in fewer words will generally be stronger. If you’re trying to get your work published or sold, there are simply more opportunities for shorter stories than longer ones.

Take frequent breaks when trimming. Once you’ve read and tweaked the same sentence a few times, it becomes hard to look at it objectively. Time is a necessary part of the process.

Example: Red Eye

Red Eye is a sci-fi noir short story in a future where a longevity serum extends lives. In rare cases this serum makes the person a “Red Eye,”  activating a latent psychic power to see the future. These visions always come to pass so long as the Red Eye is still alive, and every Red Eye sees an apocalyptic cataclysm looming in the future.

The main character is a Red Eye police detective who catches other Red Eyes so they can be given a longevity-counteracting drug, in the hope that this will stop the collective catastrophic vision from coming to pass.

Red Eye is a long story for me, generally staying in the range of 6000-7000 words through many iterations. It is also an old story that stole ideas from things I wrote in my twenties. A version of it sat in a drawer for a number of years when I wasn’t submitting my work for publication. I revived it in 2024, and that is when I began editing it in earnest.

For stories I write today, I generally let the first draft sit for a couple weeks. Red Eye was an outlier in that regard.

Initial Revisions

My first editing pass is a gut check. I try to forget everything I know and come at it as a reader. What obviously works or doesn’t work? I try to find my core concept. At first, this was the idea of the psychic who locks the future in place by seeing it.

I also noted right away that the story was long, and I wanted to trim it down significantly.

I made some initial changes, fixed obvious problems, and did my best to trim. My goal at this early stage is to have the right scenes in the right order and rough shape. (Realistically though, things can change.) Then I take a light polishing pass where I check spelling, grammar, and flow. Much of this polish will be wasted, but I do it to avoid distracting first readers with small errors.

First Feedback

My first audience is my family. They are avid readers in various genres. At face value, they are not necessarily the “perfect readers” for my work, but that’s fine. They are kind enough to give me their time and energy, and they’ll be somewhat gentle with me while pointing out any major flaws.

With their initial feedback, I hope to catch anything egregiously confusing, any plot holes, and a handful of random smaller problems. They may also bring ideas or suggestions.

For Red Eye, the feedback told me that this is a complicated plot, and it was hard to relate to the main characters. That meant I would need to make it easier to understand what was happening while simultaneously putting more of the characters’ feelings and motivations on the page. And I still wanted to make the story shorter.

I made some changes based on this feedback, and jotted a few notes for later.

Detailed Feedback

Next, I submit to Critters, which is an online writing group designed for getting feedback on works in progress. It takes a story a couple weeks to get through the queue, which provides another natural break.

If I have major concerns from my initial edits and first reader feedback, I may include a question or two along with the story. Often I do not. I find that including specific questions will cause many readers to focus solely on those concerns, and I really want this feedback to clue me into any problems that I’m completely unaware of.

The Critters critiques will dribble into my inbox over the course of a week. I usually read each one the day it comes in, but I do nothing about them at first.

Reading feedback from strangers can be emotional, depending on how effective they are at constructive criticism. I have received a good amount of critique and I like to think I’m even-keeled about it. I still think it’s normal and expected to feel good when a reader compliments your story, and bad when they dislike it or are confused by it. Reading feedback as soon as it comes in gives me space to feel any of those things without the need to take any action. It lets some of that feedback lodge in my brain and start to marinate.

When all the critiques are in, I go through them again, systematically. Any initial feelings I might have had are now blunted and I can take in the critique more honestly. I respond to everyone with a brief thank-you email. This isn’t strictly required for Critters, but it’s polite, and it forces me to consider the feedback. I’ll often write a sentence or two in my email in response to what was said.

While I’m doing this, I copy all the feedback into a single document. I may do some light organizing, like putting similar feedback together or trimming out empty pleasantries and suggestions or complaints that I’ve decided to ignore.

The feedback for Red Eye reaffirmed my concerns about plot and characterization, and provided a lot of good smaller-scale line editing suggestions. Interestingly, while I was worried about the story being too long, my readers really didn’t think it was.

The Hard Edits

This is the toughest part. I have a story and a ton of feedback. Now it’s time to make it better.

Since this story was longer than I’m used to and I received a ton of good feedback, it took me a long time to organize my document of problems, and a long time to decide how I wanted to try to solve each of them.

For this particular story, I created a reverse outline in the form of a list of scenes. I gave each scene a descriptive title and noted the pages it started and ended on. Red Eye had eleven scenes ranging from less than a page to seven pages.

I also listed all my characters. This can help to see where whole characters can be cut or combined, although I didn’t do that with Red Eye.

I then looked at my checklist of problems and solutions and placed them under the scenes where I thought they made sense. This included big things and small things, with the big things first. Some bullet points migrated between scenes as I worked.

This is the grunt work, simply going through one problem after another, sometimes finding that your idea for a fix doesn’t work and finding a new one, and rearranging, adding, deleting. This is usually where my opinion of my own writing is at its lowest, because I am working through all the worst parts of the story. It’s important to remember that the end is near, and the story that comes out of this process will be the best it has ever been.

Additional Rounds of Feedback

I will note here that you may choose to make major changes to a story, and then go back for a more rounds of feedback to get an idea of how well those changes worked.

I did not do this with Red Eye, but I certainly see stories go through Critters multiple times. It all comes down to how worried you are about the shape of the story and the changes you’ve made.

I also think that there comes a point where it becomes more valuable to move on to the next story than iterate yet again on the current one. This is just something you have to feel out and decide for yourself.

Polish and Cleanup

When the big, sweeping changes are done and I’ve addressed the major problems, I turn to polish and cleanup. The scenes, characters, and plot are solidified, and I look at the individual sentences and words. First I address small items from reader feedback. Then I read through each scene several times to find anything that sounds off.

Haruki Murakami says that you know you are nearly done with editing when you find yourself adding words or punctuation in one pass, then changing it back in the next. Some changes will come down to your current mood and the time of day.

My final step, again, is to cut, cut, cut. Tighten all the screws. Get that word count as low as it will go. For Red Eye, I allowed my word count to creep up by nearly a thousand words throughout the process of fixing all the bigger issues. Then I trimmed about the same number of words out again.

That might sound pointless at first, but it’s actually fantastic. I was able to effectively replace something like 10-20% of my words with better words! That’s what editing is all about.

Take a Victory Lap

If you get to this point, all that’s left is to put your manuscript into a word doc with standard formatting. Add the author info and title and page headers. Add the word count (and see if you can shave off another fifty or hundred).

Then stop and take in your beautiful story. Appreciate your hard work. Editing is all about finding the flaws—the negatives. Take a moment to feel the good vibes of a finished story. Be proud.

Then fire up Duotrope or Submission Grinder and find somewhere to submit that thing. And start working on the next story.

Week 8 — Year of Short Stories 2026

2026 is another year of short stories. In this weekly series, I talk about short story writing, from idea and draft to submission.

This is week eight: Feb. 23 – Mar. 1.

Stats

  • Stories Finished: 2
  • Submissions Currently Out: 8
  • Submissions Total: 8
  • Rejections: 4
  • Acceptances: 0

Goals and Results

My goals for last week were:

  1. Submit stories
  2. Submit critiques
  3. Continue writing Out of Towner, or start a new story.

This week was a submissions week. I made two submissions for stories that have already been making the rounds, and another four for my new stories, Taco Cat and Red Eye. Those submissions get me back on track for meeting my goal of 50 submissions this year.

My inspiration for the story Out of Towner has fizzled, so I’ve decided to set it aside. I haven’t started a new story yet, but I’ve been thinking about punk stories, on two different fronts. The first is an idea for a punk magical community in late 1970s New York, and the second is a budding interest in the genre of Solarpunk. I’ll have more to say about that in a future post.

I continued to neglect my Critters critiques, something I’ll need to rectify in the upcoming week.

Next Week

Unfortunately, my wife injured her arm this past week, so I’ll be picking up the chores that require arm mobility and strength, and giving her some extra support for the next few weeks. That will cut into writing time, and I’ll have to make some adjustments to my plans and goals.

For now, my goals next week are carried over from this week:

  1. Submit critiques.
  2. Start a new story.

Rod String Nail Cloth: An Afrofuturist Mixtape — Read Report

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Rod String Nail Cloth was a random library pick containing six stories and a poem. It’s slim enough that I read it in the span of a Saturday afternoon. When I grabbed it I didn’t know anything apart from the title, but I’ve been meaning to investigate Afrofuturism for a while, and a short anthology seemed like a good place to start.

As it turns out, T. Aaron Cisco was born and raised in Chicago, but now lives in Minneapolis, so there’s a hometown connection for me. It also turns out that this is self-pub, and has a whiff of punk-rock “zine” to it. Unfortunately, it also has something like 20-30 typos and formatting errors across its 150-odd pages.

These stories revolve around themes of time travel, racial injustice, environmental catastrophe, and transhumanism. There are some interesting ideas in here, and some sentences and paragraphs that really pop. However, I found some of the writing straying too far into the literary style that I most struggle with: pages spent on a character’s languid internal thoughts without giving me enough plot or setting to latch onto.

The first story, “Now, Justice,” is the biggest offender in this regard. It follows a Black inventor who creates a machine that manipulates people’s perceptions. He uses it to take vengeance on a policeman who shot an unarmed Black kid and dodged the consequences. However, we don’t get to the first mention of the machine until page 17.

The subsequent stories were tighter, in my opinion. “Thursday Addison” is a Shonen anime of a story where a cybernetically enhanced enforcer is sent into a violent, futuristic battle that she barely survives.

“The Hesitant Envoy” is a tongue-in-cheek tale where an advanced civilization pulls aside one human to ask him to justify the continued existence of the species. He has a hard time coming up with a good argument, and isn’t particularly inclined to try.

 “Lydian Mode” is about a down-on-his-luck Black musician who travels back in time to 1960s Chicago. Despite the dangers of life at the height of the civil rights movement, he discovers that there are also opportunities.

“Captain Michaela” is a poem about the titular character (maybe?) saving the universe. I’m just the wrong audience for this. While I have my favorite poets and poems, I’ve never felt drawn to sci-fi poetry.

“Rod String Nail Cloth” is the stand-out story of the book for me, an epistolary story about a person sent far back in time to fix a broken world.

In “They Burn So Easily,” an apocalyptic virus turns people into still-thinking vampire/zombie creatures called Chalkies, more strongly affecting those with paler, less pigmented skin. It’s a story about choosing forgiveness and humanity even when it may be undeserved. The conflict in this one felt a bit rushed, and I would have been interested in a longer exploration of the setting, the premise, and the relationships between the characters.

Rod String Nail Cloth is, in parts: intriguing, goofy, and a little rough around the edges. It’s not going on my favorites list, but I’m happy to have read it, and I’ll keep an eye out for Cisco’s work in the future.

It also whet my appetite for more Afrofuturism, especially in short fiction. If you have any good recommendations, leave them in the comments.

Week 7 — Year of Short Stories 2026

2026 is another year of short stories. In this weekly series, I talk about short story writing, from idea and draft to submission.

This is week seven: Feb. 15 – Feb. 22.

Stats

  • Stories Finished: 2
  • Submissions Currently Out: 2
  • Submissions Total: 2
  • Rejections:4
  • Acceptances: 0

Goals and Results

The goals I set for last week were:

  1. Finish Red Eyes.
  2. Finish Taco Cat.
  3. Continue writing Out of Towner.
  4. Get a new story in the Critters queue.

This week felt good. I am finished with Red Eyes, and I think I can safely say that this is the most work I’ve had to put into a story to make it work. It’s a relief to be done with it.

Taco Cat Employee Manual v7.1 (a much shorter story) made it through the Critters queue this week, and I received 11 responsesa pretty decent turn-out. It was mostly well-received, and only needed some minor tweaks. Quite a contrast between these two stories. I trimmed it down to an even 1,000 words so I can submit it to most flash fiction listings.

I already had another story, F-TIB, ready for the critters queue, so I sent that off and should get feedback in mid-March.

Finally, I sat and stared at Out of Towner, a story comprised (so far) of a single introductory scene, and felt completely indifferent to it. So that was the one goal I didn’t meet. This week, I’ll have to decide if I can find a spark of excitement in it, or if I should set it aside and pick something else to work on.

Submissions and Rejections

I received a response to the light rewrite that was requested for Incident at Pleasant Hills. Unfortunately, it was a rejection. This was a bummer, but they had very kind words for the story so I can’t really complain.

I submitted one story, Tom, Dick, and Larry, to a themed drabble contest. It has been challenging to find publications interested in drabbles, and they frequently don’t offer payment. (It’s pretty funny, since pro rates on 100 words come out to only $8.) This contest pays and the theme fits the story, so it’s a nice find.

I haven’t yet looked through the listings with Red Eyes or Taco Cat in mind, but I plan to send them out in the upcoming week.

Next Week

My goals for next week are:

  1. Submit stories – at least three
  2. Submit some critiques
  3. Continue writing Out of Towner, or start a new story.