Re: Helpful Link
Hi, Steve Eley, good to see you here!
Yes, I do have fun, and that's excellent news about your novel.
Now a minor brag of my own, and a digression.
First, the brag: We had two short stories come out last year: one original, one reprint. Both of the anthologies they appear in are listed here: <A HREF="http://www.voya.com/" target="_new">VOYA</A> (Voice of Youth Advocates) <a href="http://pdfs.voya.com/VO/YA2/VOYA200404BestSciFi.pdf" target="_new">Best Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror 2003</a>.
That's a major review venue, and it's nice to be noticed. The specific anthologies are <a href="http://www.sff.net/people/doylemacdonald/new_skies.htm" target="_new">New Skies</a> and <a href="http://www.sff.net/people/doylemacdonald/crusade_fire.htm" target="_new">Crusade of Fire: Mystical Tales of the Knights Templar</a>.
In further good news, today's mail brought a royalty check for $17.50. Not much, but those checks have been arriving every six months for the past nine years for one short story in one anthology. It does add up over time; no further work required on our part.
This brings us to the digression:
Anthologies.
Here's the way fiction anthologies work:
An editor pitches an anthology idea to a publisher. ("We'll get Stephen King, John Grisham, Tom Clancy, and a few other people to contribute....")
The publisher likes the idea, and writes a contract with the editor, sending the editor an advance. Standard royalties, you know the deal.
The editor then sends letters to King, Clancy, and Grisham, all of whom write back polite notes saying words to the effect of "So sorry, much too busy."
At this point the "a few others" clock in, because one of them can be you. The editor lets it be known that he's reading for an anthology, with the following title, following theme (can be anything from very specific to very broad), that the deadline is this, the lengths requested are that, and off you go.
The editor selects from this vast slush-heap (the size of the slush heap varying by how well known he is, and how widely noised-about the anthology is) the dozen or so stories he wants. Edits them, all that.
If the editor is canny, he will pay on acceptance (you get a better quality of slush that way). If he's stingy, he'll pay on publication. If he's a moron who has spent all the advance money on a flashy website, or a cheap bastard who has decided to keep the money all for himself, there won't be any money at all (don't submit to those anthologies, kids!).
The stories come in, the payments go out (3-5 cents a word, whatever).
The anthology is printed. Most times it sinks without a trace, you take your story and try to resell it to other markets.
Sometimes, though, the anthology earns back its advance. There are royalties! Hurrah!
The editor gets those royalties. You haven't signed a contract with the publisher, you've signed your contract with the editor.
Generally, the editor keeps 50% of each royalty check, and divides the money among all the authors who contributed to the anthology. There are two ways of splitting it up: one is by the page (pro rata, this is called). So if the royalties are $100, the editor keeps $50, and divides the rest among the authors -- your story is ten pages out of a 350-page book, you get $1.43.
The other way is by dividing the money by the number of stories. Same $100 royalty, same $50 to the editor, you your ten-page story is one of a dozen stories in the book, you get $4.16.
The contract you have with the editor will specify how the royalties will be divided; pro rata or per story.
That's the way it's supposed to work.
Now I've had stories where the very first royalty payment was over $800. Selling to a book that sells well is a great way to live. I've had stories that have kept contributing small amounts to the household grocery fund for years -- over a decade in one case. Selling to a constantly-in-print anthology is nice.
What you don't want to do is sell all rights for a one-time-flat-fee (or, even worse, for nothing at all). You want to have profit participation in all of your words, and keep the rights yourself.
End of digression.