Putting unpleasantness in the rear-view

in which I walk away from a dream market turned nightmare.

Subscribers know my newsletter usually comes out the first of each month, but now and then I make an exception, like I am today. I recently wrote about my experience following an acceptance from Analog magazine in early March of this year, first in this post and then with a complete timeline of the whole ordeal in this post. As I write this, I can tell you this 7-month-long saga of a tale has finally come to an end.

I wish I could say I finally received a contract from Must Read Magazines that I found reasonable and was happy to sign. Unfortunately, that’s not the case.

If you’ve read the previous posts, you’ll know I’d decided to pull my story from Analog back in July, following four-and-a-half months of unsuccessful contract negotiations. At that time MRM responded asking me not to pull my story just yet, assuring me that they wanted to work with authors to iron out the kinks of new ownership. Actual quote from the email I received in July:

“It’s the company’s mission to help writers, so if that doesn’t feel like what this contract is doing, it would be useful to us to hear about it so we can bring the information to our lawyers who can draft something that would work in a more general [sic].”

At the time, I was tired. Exhausted from the months of back and forth and seeing little if any progress. I was tempted to just say no, but they did make it sound like they wanted to work with me on something that would be good for all writers going forward. I felt I owed it to my colleagues to stick it out a little longer and maybe see if it resulted in a boilerplate contract that would serve as a reasonable foundation for future negotiations. Ultimately, I agreed to continue to work with them, but requested they move quickly with this given the unusually long amount of time I’d already invested.

I wasn’t the only one who was hopeful. I mentioned before, SFWA’s contracts committee and President Kate Ristau have been keeping a close eye on my negotiations with MRM—and at times have been involved in their capacity as representatives for SFF writers. David Steffen of The Submission Grinder and Victoria Strauss of Writer Beware have also been paying attention. Others have followed along as well, including Jason Sanford who wrote about this situation in his Genre Grapevine back in July. Full disclosure, while I wasn’t named at the time because my negotiations were still ongoing, I was one of the authors he spoke with prior to publishing that post.

Along with them, many of the top writers, editors, and publishers in short fiction have also been paying close attention. Several are people who’ve been published in the magazines under MRM’s umbrella before, or who’ve been nominated for or have won major awards (often more than once). People who’ll no doubt continue to publish outstanding work. And yes, people I consulted with throughout this process, and in particular when MRM asked for my help with their contract. Of course, I would consult with them. As I’ve said many times, by that point this had become bigger than a single author’s contract. I couldn’t very well speak for all of us, without getting some input from colleagues.

So we gave MRM the benefit of the doubt, read through their contract, used our combined decades of experience in this industry to come up with some notes to send MRM that would help them modify their boilerplate so it would be more in line with industry standards. We weren’t looking to screw them, but rather to come up with a contract that would protect the concerns of both parties equally. We also requested clarification on a couple of points. We ran this by SFWA and then sent it along to MRM. Then we waited.

As I mentioned in my timeline post, that response didn’t come when we thought it would. Despite my essentially having asked MRM to please respect my time, weeks passed with no word. I even reached out to ask when I’d be hearing from them, and they requested a bit more patience as they were busy with WorldCon. I agreed to that. I’m not entirely unreasonable. But still no response came.

Not until one day short of a month since I’d passed along those contract notes. (Two days short of seven months since my acceptance)

I wish I could say their response was worth the wait.

Rather than proceed as you might expect from someone who assured me they wanted to work with writers on this contract (by agreeing to some of our suggested changes and maybe explaining why they couldn’t make others), they simply concluded their negotiations with me altogether.

Keep in mind that I was acting as the voice of not just myself, but the aforementioned authors, editors, and other entities as well. So, in a sense, they were telling all of us they weren’t truly willing to work with us, despite their earlier assurances. (Not a good look, if you ask me.)

Some who’ve been following along have noted the timing of this response immediately followed my timeline post. Coincidence, perhaps. Do I regret writing it? No. All along I’ve felt people needed to know what was happening with this situation so that they could make informed decisions and feel empowered to push back on not just this, but any contract that didn’t meet their needs. Everything I put in my posts was factual and backed up by emails with multiple people cc’d and bcc’d as witnesses (as is what I’m writing here). I refrained only from publicly naming specific names, because I’m a professional with high standards for my personal conduct, even in situations when I have every reason to feel frustrated.

If I have any regrets, it’s these:

1. That I’d initially sent this story to an anthology call and wound up pulling it for Analog. (This anthology was recently published and looks gorgeous. Congrats to all the authors whose work was selected.)

2. That I didn’t take the advice given to me in early childhood by a country music legend (despite the fact that it kept running through my head):

“Know when to walk away. Know when to run.” - from “The Gambler” by Kenny Rogers

Kenny tried to warn me, but I naively believed MRM really did want to work with writers on this (or at least I hoped for the best). Instead, all I got was more wasted time and effort.

In their email they said things like not wanting to delay me any further unless I change my mind (by which I assume they mean, unless I agree to accept their contract unchanged). There was also some suggestion that they’d previously been criticized for coming off as condescending when attempting to explain industry standards to authors.

Apparently they were under the impression we were unaware of industry standards in short fiction and required an explanation. I would think someone like Kristine Kathryn Rusch—who has had multiple appearances in Analog and still chose to walk away from MRM’s magazines—has more than a little experience with industry standards. I mention Kristine only because by this point it’s common knowledge she has written extensively about this situation on her patreon.

Additionally, they argued that one clause in particular which I pointed out was grounds for a de-listing from The Submission Grinder had been a part of the Analog contract for decades. I mention this for two reasons:

1. It’s irrelevant what previous owners did. They aren’t locked into the previous contracts nor does the fact that it was previously included make it “industry standard.”

2. I had never seen any of those previous contracts, but if I had, I would’ve pushed back on that clause then too—or at the very least would’ve asked some questions about the need for it.

One particularly ironic point was that they happened to mention some of the media they wanted certain rights for. This by no means was phrased as an explanation, just mentioned in passing as if I should’ve already known this (despite the fact that this was the first time they’d mentioned it to me). These were things there’s nothing wrong with. In fact, many authors might’ve said, “Oh, in that case, sure,” or asked for some minor rewording, rather than striking the entire clause. Unfortunately for me, this transparency came seven months too late, and in the email where they were essentially showing me the door.

They went on to say that once they have a better idea of what their foreign editions will look like, they hoped to work with me in the future, perhaps on a different story since they no longer expected me to continue holding this one.

I’m pretty decent with words, but in this case, I struggle to find a response to this.

After seven months of wasting my time and demonstrating that they really aren’t interested in working with authors if it means more than a few minor tweaks to their contract, they actually think I’d be interested in doing this again?

I didn’t listen to Kenny, but this time I think I will listen to the great Maya Angelou:

“When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”

Yes, this means walking away from not just Analog Science Fiction & Fact, but all five of the MRM publications, which also include Asimov’s Science Fiction, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, and Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine. Four of which as of this writing remain de-listed on The Submission Grinder—a fact which also affects the SFF magazines’ listing with SFWA. For those wondering, F&SF remains listed because David’s policy is to view each specific contract before delisting, and (to my knowledge) has yet to see one for this magazine.

The response from MRM concluded in part with some very complimentary words regarding the story I’d sent them. Among other things, they suggested it could easily be an awards contender. This is one thing MRM and I are most definitely in agreement about. I’m immensely proud of this story. Part of the reason I fought as hard as I did during this negotiation is because I believe in this story and want to see it out in the world. And I’m sure it will be eventually, just not in the way I thought it would be seven months ago.

Analog’s editorial team has been fantastic throughout all of this, incidentally. They really believed in my story too. They had it all laid out in the issue and everything. I know, because I was sent the galleys for approval. It was beautiful, and the culmination of a long sought goal to see my byline not too far down the page from the magazine name. It’s a shame this ended the way it did. It didn’t have to.

I have nothing but respect and admiration for the editorial teams of all five of these magazines. They work hard, and having been on the editorial side of a magazine myself, I imagine this ordeal has been just as frustrating for the team at Analog, especially given how little say they have in the business side of things. I sincerely hope that one day down the line, under different circumstances, I might still get the opportunity to work with them. And having had my story selected for publication by Analog’s editor, Trevor Quachri, will remain a highlight of my career, despite how things ultimately turned out.

I count myself fortunate that over my decade in short fiction I’ve worked with amazing and highly professional people, many of them on several occasions, and I’m confident this setback won’t tarnish that experience.

As for the writers who’ve signed some version of MRM’s contract, I also wish them well. I sincerely hope they never have regrets down the line, and I would never judge them for their decision. Many of them are friends of mine, and writers I respect and whose work I enjoy reading. I look forward to their stories regardless of where they might appear.

Looking back, you might think I accomplished nothing here, but I’d have to disagree. Things didn’t turn out great for my own sale, but I’ve heard from many writers who’ve said I gave them the courage to stand up for themselves and their work. I made them realize they needed to read contracts more closely and make sure they understand them before signing. I even managed to get MRM to make a few changes, such as rewording the now infamous “moral rights” clause, among others. I also drew industry attention to this situation, without which SFWA and Writer Beware wouldn’t have been able to keep authors informed, and David Steffen wouldn’t have known the contracts warranted de-listing from The Submission Grinder. Sharing my experience has helped many authors decide whether or not they want to submit to these magazines. All these things will serve to protect writers and their intellectual property going forward. In particular, they protect less-experienced writers at least a little more than they were previously.

That’s not nothing.

P.A. Cornell

Not to be tacky, but I know this post will likely get more eyes on it than usual, so if you’re reading for awards consideration, please give “Through the Machine” a little bit of your time and keep it in mind come nomination season. If you’ve already read and enjoyed it, shares and upvotes are very much appreciated. This story means a lot to me because art and the people who make it mean a lot to me. I hope you feel the same way.