I think I've neglected to say: thanks for all the slush reports! I'm always interested in seeing this stuff.

Hadn't occurred to me to add up total word counts on SH's subs. A quick database query later, I see that we've had 1.8MW (megawords) of fiction so far this year—but that was spread out over nearly two months of reading, and there are three of us to do the reading. No one of us ever ends up having to read more than about 50 stories in a week, and it's usually more like 20-30 per editor. Also, our submissions average a lot shorter than yours—about 3850 words/sub, as opposed to your 5900. I'm guessing that's 'cause of our "strongly prefer under 5000 words" thing—or maybe zeppelins just demand more words. :) Um, the point of all of which was to say "Wow, that's a lot of stories and a lot of words you've got there."

Interesting that something vaguely approaching half your subs arrived in the last week.... The power of deadlines.

Anyway, have fun down in Portland!

That's a whole lot of wordage. Good luck in the slush mines.

Start by rejecting all the adverbs. That should cut down on the wordage significantly, without much of a negative affect on the prose.

I don't know, Tim. In many circles, writers are taught ADVERB=DEVIL, so they may be a little thin. If he's looking for words to cut, I recommend replacing all proper nouns with initials. This will make them all read like 1800s epistolary novels. Bonus!

Come on, Tim, this is pulp. The adverbs are practically the whole point!

I like the initials idea, J. Or initials followed by long dashes: "Mr D----- M----- is currently traveling, and will be unable to respond to any scurrilous rumours posted upon his blog."

But that's more 19th century than pulp, I guess.

Well, Greg's already drunk as a lord and threatening to reject the Portland area writers in person later tonight...

Vaguely relevant: an anti-adjective rant and then an anti-anti-adjective rant here.

Jay lies.

About the being drunk part, anyway.

Wow—gives new meaning to the phrase "personal rejections." Greg, maybe you should take up a career as a traveling rejector—flying from city to city, giving authors the bad news in person.

The potential for my feelings to be hurt by rejectomancy dissuades me.

"He smelled a bit stale and there was something in his nose. I think that means I made it to the second round!"

It depends on whether he's wearing a licensed Disney character plush head when he knocks on your door.

*pictures a seething pile of slush*

So... Did any more submissions sneak in (around) the wire?