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05 February 2012
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Margaret I. Carr

ePress Progress Report

  • Word Castles

    In addition to the pdf version of Word Castles the Microsoft Reader (.lit) is almost ready and pre-orders are being taken for the Special, Numbered and Signed, Limited Edition. A free download of the e-version is included so you won't have to wait to read it. Go to ePress and check out the Order Page for details.

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    Three additional books have been accepted and two are now being edited. Two are Resources for Writers and the third is an addition to our Showcase Line.

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Margaret I. Carr


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Catherine's Kitchen

Catherine Manning

The Folly

In one of my previous columns, I made mention of the police being called on three Sundays running because of incidents that we children had created. We children ranged between the ages of seven and three years. It boggles the mind how we got away with what we did with no casualties.

As usual, the incident I am about to relate happened when my father was out fishing. The overseer was sleeping off his Sunday drunk, our nanny was sleeping, we were supposed to be sleeping, and my mother, who was pregnant with number five, had gone down to our beach house to relax and wait for my father to come home. The family home was large and no doors were ever locked, except perhaps at night, so we had a freedom probably never experienced by other children. This freedom was supposed to be curtailed by the fact that we were 'watched'!

My father, who smoked, kept his carton of Trumpeters and a carton of matches on top of the bookcase in the entrance hall, a bookcase high enough that we had to climb on a chair to reach them. On this particular Sunday, as I said, my mother had left us with the sleeping nanny. I (aged 5), my eldest brother (7), and my younger brother (3) absconded with a pack of Trumpeters and matches to go and have 'a smoke', something which none of us had done before.

Our major mistake was to light up outside the cow pen in the bottom yard over a pile of dry grass. Why we picked there is beyond me, but the inevitable happened. The match dropped and stayed lit and the rest is history. The boys tried to put it out the natural way but that wasn't enough! We ran and hid, but the police, fire brigade and neighbouring posse found us and incarcerated us in the guest room for what seemed like forever. Finally, my father came home, having heard about the fire on his way home. Chaos reigned as he walked into the house. Everyone was shouting about these bad children and what we had done. All I remember was one almighty shout from him for everyone who didn't belong there to get out of his house and then there was quiet. Then he came upstairs and liberated us. The only statement the police or the fire brigade got was, "It was my cow pen and my children who burned it down." Nevertheless, it took a long time for us to live that down or the other incidents that followed, although I think that was the worst.

Our beach house was called "The Folly" because of the way it was built, but we loved it and were very upset when it was sold. Today it is an up-market restaurant. The house was built out of coral stone, which is what Barbados consists of, and had no doors except on the two bedrooms, the kitchen and the bathroom. It was almost circular except for the straight lines of the exterior and interior bedroom walls. The dining table was a semi-circle of concrete on a pedestal with concrete benches and cushions. Scattered around the rest of the house were concrete benches with cushions. Security was nil as, at that time, there was no need. I wish it were so today. Everyone slept where they wanted on benches or cots, which were folded up and put away in the day. Maintenance was low on the house. My father anchored our boat, "Me Too," offshore. There was a boathouse next to "The Folly" where he would haul the boat up for repairs during the hurricane season. I would sometimes be taken to my ballet classes by sea on a Saturday morning, as they were held at the Aquatic Club which was offshore and connected to land by a jetty. I much preferred being on the boat to going to ballet and the lessons died a natural death after a few years. The final clue about my lack of enthusiasm for ballet came when I took the five shilling fee and spent it in the gift shop. My mother realized that my ballerina days were over.

The beach was perfect for coal potting, the earlier version of today's barbeques. We had a never-ending supply of fresh fish. One of my favourites is still barbequed Mahi Mahi, but now I make my own marinade and leave the fish to marinate for several hours.

DRESSING

  • 1 cup oil, any type.
  • 1/2 cup vinegar, Balsamic or white or half-and-half.
  • 1/2 tsp. salt or to taste
  • 1 tsp. sugar or to taste
  • 1 onion, chunked
  • 2 large cloves garlic or more

Put everything in blender and blend till smooth.

I use this for as a salad dressing as well. It's good with the fish and keeps it moist.

Skin and bone fish. Cut into 8 oz. steaks, wash and rub with lime and salt and refrigerate for at least an hour. Wash fish again, dry, and lay steaks in a large dish. Pour over enough dressing to cover the fish well and leave to marinate for several hours, turning a few times. Heat grill to correct temperature for fish and barbeque for about four minutes each side until just done, brushing with the marinade. Don't overcook as the fish will continue to cook after it comes off. It should just pull apart easily.

SHRIMP

Soak wooden skewers in water for about three hours to prevent them burning on the barbeque. Use large or jumbo shrimp. Peel, remove sand vein and wash. Drain, put in bowl and sprinkle well with lemon pepper. When ready to barbeque, thread on skewers, brush with garlic butter on both sides and grill until just pink, brushing with the butter several time. It won't take long, probably about two minutes each side.

CHICKEN

I had a brick barbeque outside with a rotisserie for chicken, which was used regularly. As it was quite a large barbeque, we used shingles instead of coals. There was a plentiful supply when house roofs were replaced and they burned well. As chicken burns on a barbeque before it cooks, I recommend precooking it as I outlined in my Roast Garlic Chicken (May 2000 column).

Remove the chicken from the oven, put it on the rotisserie and barbeque it for the last half hour of cooking time. Brush several times with this dressing or a barbeque sauce of your choice. It will be juicy and succulent and, of course, the skin (the best part) will be lovely and crisp. I even cook chicken parts this way, cooking the whole chicken first then jointing it and finishing it on the barbeque, as I find it so much more tender and juicy.

Because a wood fire often flames up, the fire has to be controlled by sprays of water occasionally. Coals work equally well, probably with less flare-ups.

That's all for now! I am currently experimenting with Preserved Melon Rind as we have the sweetest seedless watermelons at the moment. I decided that, rather than throw away the rind, I would try this. If it comes out, I'll let you know.

Bon Appetit
Cath


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Inclinations

Priscilla Fagan

Open-mindedness

The only means of strengthening one's intellect is to make up one's mind about nothing-to let the mind be a thoroughfare for all thoughts. Keats, 1819.

Ah, but to keep an open mind when you've already made up your mind is the crux of the matter. We all have opinions. But does that mean that others are wrong in theirs? John Morley reminds us, Our opinions are less important than the spirit and temper with which they possess us, and even good opinions are worth very little unless we hold them in a broad, intelligent, and spacious way.

Change is inevitable, even when the change is going from the new, back to the old. Remember the late 70s/early 80s television show, "Diff'rent Strokes"? As the theme song said, ... what might be right for some may not be right for you... A quote from Alexander Pope, 1727, It is with narrow-souled people as with narrow-necked bottles: the less they have in them, the more noise they make in pouring it out. Change is difficult for some people but let's not curtail our own growth and development by staying in our little cocoons. Taking a risk, trying a different method opens up new worlds or streams of consciousness. In other words, give it a try. What have you got to lose?

LaBruyere, 1688 observed, It is often easier as well as more advantageous to conform to other men's opinions than to bring them over to ours. I guess the case in point here is, hey, you have a mind of your own, use it!

I think most of us are fairly flexible, we try to keep open minds. My opinion is a view I hold until-well-until I find out something that changes it. Well, this brings us 'round to contradictions. Jonathan Swift noted in his Thoughts on Various Subjects in 1711, If a man would register all his opinions upon love, politics, religion, learning, etc., beginning from his youth, and so go to old age, what a bundle of inconsistencies and contradictions would appear at last!

To sum up, let's share our ideas by keeping an open mind. Our opinions are important but that doesn't make others' opinions wrong.

I'll finish with a gem from Mark Twain. It were not best that we should all think alike; it is difference of opinions that makes horse-races.

Have a great Spring. I swear, I still remain,
Priscilla, the eternal optimist.


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Fiction Corner

Alison Hawke

Chocolate

I confess, I'm a chocoholic. When a film called Chocolat arrived in town a friend told me I had to watch it. It's based on a book of the same name by Joanne Harris. I loved the story and wanted to read the original version. The film version had made several changes, most notable was the change of "bad guy." In the film, it was the mayor, in the book it was the town priest. The film also added a few comic moments, and missed out a poignant thread about a man and his small dog.

Something I really liked about the novel was that it was told in the first person, alternately from Vianne Rocher, single mother and owner of the new chocolate shop La Celeste Praline, and Francis Reynaud, the town's Catholic priest. From Vianne we get the main story, how the town reacts to an outsider and the effect she has on people. From the priest we get confessions as he talks to the former priest, now incarcerated in hospital and unable to talk or move.

What struck me was how immediate the story seemed. I was in the little French town, I was making chocolates to sell, I was someone else. Even though Harris is restricted to snooping in only one mind, she still gets into others. Vianne Rocher can see things in people, she sees images in the steam of melted chocolate. It makes the clash between her and the priest more interesting. He sees her as a pagan enchantress, tempting his flock and corrupting the town. She sees him as the Black Man from her mother's tarot cards, death and disapproval incarnate, stalking her. He interprets her every act as defiance against him, the church and the town.

There are other ways to bring that immediacy to a story. Diaries and letters are time-honoured methods in fiction. I wonder if Joanne Harris ever went to confession the way she sends Francis Reynaud to pour out his heart to the older priest. I wonder if Helen Fielding (author of Bridget Jones' Diary) keeps a diary herself. I love the feeling of reading someone else's diary, partly because I know how personal my own is. I haven't read a book that uses letters, can anyone recommend a good one?

I've never tried writing in the first person. I visualise the scenes and characters from outside, dipping down into people's thoughts every so often. Is it possible to mix first and third person stories? You do it a little when you include the thoughts of a character in a third person story. Point of view can change a story completely, it is worth thinking about using a different point of view than usual. It may help your story.


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Drabble Corner

Michelle Swisz

For May's Drabble, I'm happy to present "A Decision," by Tom Spencer, exploring the theme of Exploration. When sending in your comments and Dribbles on this, keep in mind that the guidelines are continually being refined to achieve an increasingly better column. So, for the latest, take another look at them just before you write what you send in. This month's Dribble is at the other end of the column, following a reprint of Jim Hatfield's "Splashed," the Drabble of last month, which elicited it.

May's Drabble, on Exploration

A Decision
by Tom Spencer

The old man sat in the fog-shrouded café. His coffee was cold. Subconsciously, he was tearing a napkin to shreds. His thoughts ran to the family business. His brother had done everything right. For his reward, his father had him killed. His cousin, always at odds with his father, was given his own territory, his heating bills paid. For years the old man avoided a decision, used the world of politics to avoid joining the family business. Politics made a social statement most could not deny. And now with campaign finance reform, he is forced to choose a new profession.

Metaphor. Symbolism. Real life. Is there really such a thing as just metaphorical truth, or are the things, the events, that we understand as being "just" metaphorical actually a higher level of expression by the Universe of the exact same things we see on "this" level? Right now, in the midst of an (amiable) divorce, I am in the process of moving out of our house, and hence cleaning it in places I didn't know existed before, such as previously invisible spaces between major appliances.

A few minutes ago, I was standing in our kitchen, looking in the wastebasket, and in it there was a pretty big clump of something, I guess dust (or that's what seemed to be holding together whatever it was.) Think Gilda Radner taking a look at some unknown substance she's found somewhere in the house, if you happen to be old enough to remember her on Saturday Night Live in the 70's.

Like Gilda, I'm mentally dissecting this dust clump, asking , "What the heck is this?" Or, is it that I am really (and then, in what sense are the questions more real than the dust or whatever it is that seems to both precipitate and illustrate them?) dissecting what our relationship is, and was; what is left of it, what has it become? When I see dust, in what actual sense am I seeing the marriage--the dust that it had collected, the cleaning that has changed that--or the stuff that it was, and the dust that is left of the marriage aspect of the relationship? What is the connection between the real and how we see it, between the object that we perceive and/or create, and the perception of it? Perhaps a philosopher or two out there will have some input on this. June's theme is already set for "It Came to Life," and, by the powers vested in me as editor of Drabbles, the theme for July will now be--Metaphor.

Another new tradition: Alison had an idea for Double Drabbles; exactly, as you'd expect, 200 words. Perhaps addressing the theme of Metaphor would be a good time to introduce the Double Drabble, so feel free to send in either a single or a double on Metaphor.

And here is Jim Hatfield's "Splashed," again, followed by the Dribble that elicited it.

Splashed
by Jim Hatfield

The first sign they'd been hit was a thump behind the cockpit. The aircraft lurched as if it had been T-boned at a bad intersection. Acrid smoke swirled through the compartment. His earphones buzzed.

"We just bought it, Jacko. Eject, eject!"

Jack pulled the firing handles and the canopy whipped away like a candy wrapper in the wind. Then his seat seemed to explode, carrying him straight up into the sun.

Finally, his chute popped and he found himself drifting lazily toward the Gulf. His knee throbbed. His heart pounded.

"Jesus, I'm alive," he thought. Then he hit the water.

"Hope there aren't any sharks out there."
- Kate Staron

Keep the input coming, everyone! Until next month,

Michelle

Email me your drabbles at drabble@wvu.org.


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Fiction Vignette

Grady T. Kirbo

Grady T. Kirbo is a native southerner born in Albertville, Alabama in 1948. He is currently working in Alabama as a freelance journalist and writer and is pursuing a doctorate in communications at the University of Colorado. He lives with his family in Alabama and in Boulder, Colorado.

Mud Between My Toes

Us yougin's just loved to run around barefoot on the farm. The soft red clay didn't hurt our feet none and Grandmother didn't mind at all except when we tracked dirt on our feet and mud between our toes onto her clean floors.

On hot summer evenings, Granddaddy decided that in order to cool off, we should make some ice cream. The custard, the essential ingredients to making the ice cream was a closely guarded secret. The recipe called for nine eggs, milk, sugar, and vanilla extract and a few other things I have forgotten. Then commenced the cooking of the custard. While it was a cooking, someone had to stand there with a wood spoon and stir it constantly so's the eggs wouldn't just cook up and make a mess. Naturally my sister and I got the honors of standing in the sweltering kitchen stirring and stirring while everyone else enjoyed the breeze on the front porch. When Sister Kate, my grandmother came to check on us, Archie would sneak a little drink he kept hidden in the hollow of his cane.

After about an hour of this, we were tired of cranking our old hand crank ice cream machine. Naturally us youngins did all the turning and putting in ice and rock salt to make the ice melt and melt the new ice we put in the ice cream maker.

Finally the torture stopped. The ice cream was done! Let's eat! And eat we did. There was over a gallon of ice cream to be et' up and we all meant to get our fair share. Sometimes when blueberries or blackberries and strawberries were in season, we'd get some fresh off the vine and pour them over the ice cream. Ah, heaven never had it so good.

This ice cream was so good that the mixture was a top secret, never written down, just past by word of mouth. It was cold and smooth and slid down your throat giving you the chills. Life didn't get any better than this in Omaha. We didn't care about any of that. With full stomachs we ran off to catch fireflies in the twilight, and listen to the last of the mockingbirds sing. Then the whooperills joined in as did the Poor Bob Whites. We even enjoyed cleaning up cause you got to lick the bowl and scoop out what was left around the edges of the ice cream maker.

Nothing lasts forever. Pretty soon Archie ordered us to milk the cows and do some churning. But on this wonderful evening, nothing mattered at all. We had enjoyed the family secret and our big bellies looked like we had swallowed a basketball. Now, after some 100 years of family secrecy, (as Sergeant Schultz would say), "I know nothing...nothing."


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Poetics

Christine

From Accentual Verse to Villanelles...a review of "How to Interpret Poetry"

Did you ever read a poem and wonder to yourself why it qualified as poetry? Do the words trochee, spondee and pyrrhic strike fear in your heart? Did you know that Doggerel is an actual type of poetry? All of this information is in How to Interpret Poetry by Laurie E. Rozakis, PH.D., 2nd edition, copyright 1998.

This marvelous, 134-page book has a permanent place beside my computer. Written as a study guide and reference, it quite simply has everything you want to know about poetry. How to Interpret Poetry not only explains different types of poetic verse, but tells of their origins. It contains complete explanations of meter and rhyme (remember 'pyrrhic'?). When turning the pages of this book, I found the explanations of poetic devices such as imagery, allusion, and internal rhymes impressive. Not only does the author clarify these things, she helps us to understand how to use (and not over-use) each one to create the desired effect.

In addition to unlocking some of the mysteries that confront us when we see a contest or submission regulation that calls for an Epithalamion, or perhaps something in Macronic Verse, How to... also explains the subtle contrasts between a Pindaric Ode and a Horatian Ode, and the variations of ballads, epics, and sonnets. For those enthusiasts of unrhymed verse, there is plenty of information on 'free verse', 'blank verse', and 'accentual verse' - yes, there are even differences in these; they are not synonymous.

O.K., O.K., you say. Who cares? I will admit, I thought there was more here than I would ever want to know, but I keep returning to the book for more of its limitless information. After poring over all the details of poetry, I reached the sections that help one recognize the finesse and gain greater understanding of works by an endless list of masters such as Walt Whitman, Dylan Thomas, Thoreau, and Shakespeare.

As I mentioned before, this is a study guide. The last few chapters contain analyses of a few classic and modern poems, and actually have exercises to test your new-found skills in interpretation. The final chapter is dedicated to a list of suggested reading - and if you read just a small percent of the authors mentioned, you will fall in love with poetry all over again.

Amazon lists 57 titles bearing Laurie Rozakis' name as author or co-author, such as The Complete Idiot's Guide to Creative Writing and Power Reading. She is knowledgeable and informative, and presents her subject in a manner that is easy to understand. How to Interpret Poetry is published by MacMillan, Inc. and is an ARCO book, now owned by Petersons. It can be found in most major bookstores, and the suggested retail price is $9.95 U.S., $14.95 Canadian, but if ordered online, a 20% discount is allowed. If you are serious about your poetry, then this book is a must. It will help you not only read better, but write better as you gain more knowledge of your craft.

This is the first of a series of reviews of books on Poetics and Poetry. Watch future editions of T-Zero as we present information other publications of interest.


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Poetics Presents

Gloria Pimentel

Gloria joined WVU in July 1999 and has taken Poetry 101, Poetry 104 and now Poetry 100. She says that WVU'S facilitators and peers have constantly encouraged her to hone her craft. Gloria's work has previously been published in T-Zero Mid-Month specials.

Writers' Village members look forward to reading more of Gloria's work.

What is a Poem?

A poem is
a dance with nature
communion with oneself
bejeweled thread of thoughts
embellished words, forever
wisdom in crafted forms
sonnets, sestinas
a poem is

Copyright © 2001 Gloria Pimentel


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Poetics Presents

Jim Hatfield

Jim Hatfield has worked in print and broadcast journalism and now mainly writes speeches and corporate videos, as well as poetry. He has two grown sons and lives in the Chicago area with his wife, Jane, and their Jack Russell Terrier, Lucy. Jim has been taken "Creativity in a Box" and Poetry 100 at WVU and is a member of Word Weavers study group.

Writers' Village members look forward to reading more of Jim's work.

Save Me A Gerund, Please

A hundred thousand people chatting away on-line,
Messages askittering through space and endless time.
I wonder about those words and where they go to rest;
Maybe to one of those empty states far away out West.
Wouldn't that be something, a landfill just for words?
A sort of city dump for nouns and adjectives and verbs.
If I knew where to go, I'd sure get on out there fast.
First I'd grab the funny words, save the serious ones for last.

Copyright © 2001 Jim Hatfield


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Poetics Presents

Julie Ferguson

Originally from England, Julie has lived in New Zealand since she was nine. She currently lives in Auckland with her husband, two small boys and dog. Relatively new to WVU, her main interest is in fiction, but poetry is an old favourite she is revisiting. The poem "Pohutukawa" is about a protected tree native to New Zealand.

Writers' Village members look forward to reading more of Julie's work.

Pohutukawa

from vague green anonymity
a pacific palette of reds and greens
splash of summer splendour
the shock of flaming Pohutukawa

gnarled knotted knuckles on tortured limbs
grasp impossible cliff top footholds
precariously poised on lofty perch
spray splashed rocks or shining sands

crimson crested coastline
emblazons shimmering shores
florid burst of blooming fire
display of passionate extravagance

as summer season wanes
this vermilion veil fades
revealing vague viridity
leaving more than mere rusty recollection

Copyright © 2001 Julie Ferguson


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Poetics Presents

Polly Washburn

Polly Washburn joined WVU nine months ago. She wrote "Cross-country" in WVU's Introduction to Poetry class, aided by the facilitators and other students. She is 31 and lives in Winnipeg, Canada with her husband, and enjoys poetry as a balance to her novel-in-progress.

Writers' Village members look forward to reading more of Polly's work.

Cross-country

I find no solace in solitude, but you do.
While I sought a partner,
someone to entangle roots with,
you jumped a train for two months,
abandoned husband, job, cat.
Emptied the fullness
you found unbecoming
in one so young.

You made companions of clouds,
soulmates of stars,
friends out of strangers.

You didn't need us to come looking for you --
you found yourself just fine.
Stepped off in California,
wiped the slate clean,
tossed one life aside for another.

You call me sometimes,
as the mood or the moon hits you,
wanting to talk about your world,
not hear about mine.
When we hang up after things unsaid,
I find no solace in silence, but you do.

Copyright © 2001 Polly Washburn


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Poetics Presents

Susan Elliott

Susan Elliott is a successful businesswoman who decided to reinvent herself, and return to some of the values and dreams of her flower-child youth. Susan says that she has learned much during the past few months at WVU. She says: "I am very grateful to my mentors and classmates; they gave me both excellent advice and courage." Susan's poetry has been published in previous issue of T-Zero's mid-month showcase.

Writers' Village members look forward to reading more of Susan's work.

Vacation

Contented clouds drift,
form a myriad of stories
above the rippling waves
that sparkle like sequins
beneath lazy grazing gulls.

The cat yawns,
a screen door creaks,
mama sighs.

Lemon-lime peanut butter summer.

Copyright © 2001 Susan Elliott


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Poetics Presents

Susan Rosenkrantz

Susan Rosenkrantz is a new writer and has only been writing poetry for less than a year. She has resided in Illinois for all her forty-six years. Susan's work has previously been published in the T-Zero Mid-Month specials.

Writers' Village members look forward to reading more of Susan's work.

Once Again

I resist, you persist
bad mistake, madly shaken
slender wrist, violent twists.

Soft moan, subdued groan
inhumane heartache, insane heartbreak
fiercely thrown, broken bones.

Copyright © 2001 Susan Rosenkrantz


T-Zero: The Writer's Ezine
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Copyright 1998 - 2007, Writopia Inc. All Rights Reserved
Submissions Guidelines The Writers' Ezine - T-Zero Xpandizine

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Submissions Guidelines (Updated)

Until further notice, only plain text submissions in the body of the email will be considered.
NO ATTACHMENTS.

What We Pay For

Fiction: Stories should be of interest to writers in general, not just a narrow group.

Fiction should be submitted to fiction@thewritersezine.com. Payment starts at $15.00.

If considered for publication, you will be asked to return an email agreement including your name and address.

Craft Features: Queries about Craft features should be sent to nonfiction@thewritersezine.com.

Payment starts at $15.00, and, if considered, you will be sent an email agreement to fill out and return.

Poetry: Due to the large number of recent poetry submissions, a temporary hold on further poetry submissions is in place until early 2008.

Please do not email us to ask what we pay for in other categories. When we can add to our list, we will include it in these guidelines.

What We Publish

Original short fiction, poetry, and non-fiction, particularly non-fiction related to the craft of writing and interviews.

For fiction we prefer something with a plot and resolution. If we like the main character, we are more likely to accept the story. If the main character has a problem to resolve or has to make a choice, that's conflict, and we love conflict! Too many writers confuse conflict with fight scenes. Don't be one of them. Give us a protagonist who acts, makes choices no matter how hard they are to solve his or her dilemma, not a wimp who drifts along and has to be rescued.

Non-fiction should be related to the craft of writing or be good resource material for writers. Accuracy and originality are vital. No reprints. If it has already been published somewhere else, our readers will spot it and let us know.

What We Won't Publish

Anything that inspires "hate," is defamatory or is pornographic.

Simultaneous submissions.

Material that has appeared elsewhere (reprints).

Seasonal material submitted during the same month (i.e., a Christmas story in December). Our lead time is short compared to print publications, but we do need time to edit, html and proof submission. A good guideline is to submit the manuscript by the first of the preceding month (i.e., submit a Christmas story before November 1st).

Length Recommendations

  • For Fiction, under 1500 words is preferred. We will consider excerpts from longer works.

  • Poetry should fit on one printed page if possible. A maximum of five poems may be submitted at one time (when the hold is lifted).

  • Non-fiction or Craft features have the most leeway in word count. In general these manuscripts should be 750 to 2,000 words. We like to take advantage of the hypertext capabilities we have available and link to charts, graphs, lists and so forth. Thumbnail versions may be included in the body of the article.

Rights

All rights other than first electronic, non-exclusive 'anthology' (for collections of T-Zero: The Writer's Ezine works only), and non-exclusive archival rights (we keep back issues online) are and remain the sole and exclusive property of the author.

Formats We Will Accept

Plain text in the body of an email.

T-Zero: The Writer's Ezine is an HTML publication. This gives us access to a variety of options but it is also a limiting factor.

  • Underlining is used exclusively for links in HTML. Please do not underline in your manuscript. It you are including a link to a webpage for reference, please mark the link the following way: (WEB LINK) http://thewritersezine.com (END WEB LINK).
  • The less than (<) and greater than (>) signs are used to enclose HTML encoding. If you need to use brackets, please use the square [ ] ones instead.
  • Paragraph indentation requires time consuming insertion of multiple HTML symbols. Please separate paragraphs by inserting a hard, blank line between them.
  • Fonts need to be simple. No multiple fonts. We prefer standard fonts such as Times New Roman, Courier or Arial set at 12 point. If your subject matter requires something else, ask us first.
  • The curly (smart) quotes, apostrophes, the em dash (two hyphens together) and ellipsis … (three periods) become strange and exotic characters when copied from your word processor into email. Check your preferences or options to see if you can use straight quotes. 
  • Text formatting such as bold, italic, centering, bullet list, etc., should be noted in the text by using all caps in parentheses. For example, if you wanted to italicize the word submission, you would type: (ITALICS) submission (END ITALICS).

Editing

We expect you to run spell-check and to check your grammar and punctuation before submitting. We will not reject a submission for a few typos or errors, but will if there are an excessive number of errors.

Note: Since our reading audience is international, we do not require a specific version of English. Use the spelling appropriate to your region.

We will automatically correct obvious typos such as “ton” for “not” and may correct simple agreement problems. For anything beyond that, time permitting, we will return the submission to you with a request for corrections.

Getting to Know You

Fiction and Craft features published in T-Zero: The Writer's Ezine include brief third person biographical notes on the writers. For all submissions, please compose your own bio and include it to save our editors and yourself time later if/when your piece is accepted for publication. We suggest sharing a little about your background, occupation, geographical location and what inspired your story.

How and Where to Submit

We do not accept submissions via US mail. Email submissions only, to the appropriate department, in the body of the email. No attachments accepted.

Fiction should be sent to fiction@thewritersezine.com.

Craft Non-fiction should be queried first. Send query to nonfiction@thewritersezine.com.

Poetry: Due to the large number of recent poetry submissions, a temporary hold on further poetry submissions is in place until early 2008.

Include the type of submission (fiction, non-fiction) in the subject line.

Be sure to include your name and email address in the body of the email.

If you do not receive an acknowledgement that your submission or query was received within a week, please send a follow-up query with “Did you Receive?” in the subject line. In the body of the email, please include your name and email address, the title of the work submitted, and if different, the email address sent from. Do not resend the submission unless we request it.

Good luck!


T-Zero: The Writer's Ezine
http://TheWritersEzine.com
Copyright 1998 - 2007, Writopia Inc. All Rights Reserved

 

© Copyright 1998 - 2007, Writopia Inc. All rights reserved