A couple of evenings ago I was invited to attend a local writers group: The Sheppey Scribblers, and I was amazed by how talented some of the members work was. It made me question - not for the first time in my life - just how much undiscovered talent there is 'out there' in the big blue yonder...and whenever I start to think along these lines, I start to wonder how publishers actually decide what they publish and what they toss aside.
Many a time I have bought a book on the strength of its eye-catching front cover, its enticing blurb, and even its gripping hook of a first line, only to get it home and discover that the writer can't write for toffee! The plot is wafer thin, the characters unformed, the dialogue stilted and the prose uninspiring. And I'm not talking just the self-published novels, but also the ones taken on by mainstream publishing houses.
It is so disheartening. There seems to be no rhyme or reason.
I've lost count of the times I have sent off my short stories to this magazine or that one, only to have them rejected with no explanation, then the next month to read a weak tale with no proper plot or satisfying storyline in these selfsame publications.
It's enough to make a saint swear!