Unless the identity or mannerisms of a character are hidden for dramatic effect, one thing to avoid when creating fictional people and worlds in to make sure they actually do something. Who am I referencing when I say “they”?  Well, anything–everything!  Anything relevant, that is.

In other words, one of the greatest perils of fiction writing is making certain one’s characters are not merely floating, talking heads/mouths with no surrounding environment or appropriate gesticulations.  Even if your character is standing completely still the reader has no way of knowing this unless informed–by the author.  A wave of the hand, the twitch of an eyebrow are all methods of implying a character’s mood.  Utilizing descriptions like these can rid a story of child-like explanations of emotions, e.g. I am sad./Billy was happy.

Character Diversity

Another characteristic of bad fiction writing is a lack of diversity of characters.  If each character understands one another without incident or speaks using the same voice (without dissenting opinion) then it is almost certain to be a bad story.  However, this can only be true unless a lack of character diversity is being used as a plot/comedic/dramatic device.  As you can imagine, I would only suggest a very experienced writer use such a technique.  An example?  Animal Farm, by George Orwell.

Furthermore, a variety of characters who all say the same thing is indicative of a pompous author. And if there’s one thing editors cannot stand, is authors who attempt to pound concepts in the head of the reader.  For the sake of ibuprofen, please keep off of the soapbox.

Ebb & Flow

When constructing the story itself (outside of characterization and plausibility), a bad fiction writer tends to jump from one scene to the next without transitions.  Plot devices withstanding, of course.  Mainstream literary fiction craves conceivable transitions.  As I’m sure you know, the vast majority of both print and web-based literary magazines want to do without genre fiction.  (Don’t ask me, I adore genre fiction.)  In any case, for the love of realism, a good fiction writer must adequately explain why and how a character goes to a certain place, reacts a certain way, or smells the way she does.

If you haven’t already guessed, character diversity and plausibility (here called ebb & flow) are interconnected.  Why?  Because something one character may regard as completely reasonable, it is advised that another character (for adequate reasons) find this same situation/item completely insane.  And as a human endowed with the power of empathy this goal as a good fiction writer, is completely within your grasp.

The Ending (Deus ex Machina)

Generally, I am of the opinion that stories do not end:  The bad guy is never entirely overcome and the protagonist may not live–let alone live “happily ever after.”  It seems this sentiment goes against many centuries of American literature.  (Those of you outside of the States can rest assured.)  On the other hand, thanks to the comparatively recent “movement” of postmodernism, the trend in Western literature agrees (for now).
So, in my opinion, how does a bad fiction writer end a story?  Happily, I tell you.  If you care at all about realism (and you definitely don’t have to) I would advise you end your masterpiece on a flat note–one neither particularly happy nor sad.

Reading is not a passive activity.  When one is engaged in reading, there are a seemingly infinite number of things upon which to ponder at the end of the adventure.  There’s nothing wrong with leaving the reader upset–or even downright perplexed–as long as it is done skillfully and plausibly.

Pontification

This leads me, rather eagerly, to the next point.  If, through the entirety of your narrative, you have revealed nothing of your character’s intentions or the plot of the story for the sole purpose of impressing your intended reader, you are pontificating.  Please.  Stop.  There is nothing more annoying (and boring) for an editor to read than a dissertation on philosophy of mind told through two guys sitting in a cafe using elaborate and unnecessary vocabulary.
Save that for academia.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  Figures such as Sartre, who write out their philosophies in the form of prose create intriguing worlds in which to delve.  Novels/stories requiring a second read to gain more insight into the intricacies of the language used or a plot element are rewarding to readers.  Stories requiring several hundred reads with no epiphanies–are merely examples of the writer’s superior intellect and complexity of wit.  Right…?

On that note, this editor has noticed on several (hundred) occasions that literary pontificators tend to use long sentences to get across the points of the story.  Please. Stop.  That kind of sentence structure was allowed (and necessary) in years prior to the twentieth century.  Now, however, at the beginning of the twenty-first, with the aid of technological advancements such as color photography and the internet, a reader does not need to be told what something like the Eiffel Tower looks like.  She probably already knows.  Seriously, sometimes less is more…

RR&R

Revise.  Revise.   And revise again. Word processors can’t catch everything, y’know!  There’s only one thing frustrating about reading an awe-inspiring story of great depth:  awkward sentence structure, misspellings, and nonsensical transitions.  Originality can’t help you if you don’t know how to form and represent your ideas in a professional way.  An editor should have no reason to doubt that you’ve been published online and in print magazines or anthologies from all over the world.

In addition, if your life’s work contains errors so  minor even the editor doesn’t catch them, I guarantee you one of the readers will catch it and find either your story, the magazine, or both to be unsuitable to his lofty tastes.

Professionalism

Speaking (figuratively, of course) of the guise of professionalism, it’s extremely important in other ways as well!

1. Read the entirety of a magazine’s submission and writing guidelines.

    Many top magazines have spam filters that will simply toss your work in the trash if you don’t make sure to follow their rules.  Some of them may seem strange or superfluous to you, but believe you me, they exist for a reason.  Without an adequate system of accepting submissions, most editors would be pulling their hair out dealing with a myriad of writings and writers.

2. Do yourself a favor and assume rejection if you haven’t received a response from an editor within six months.

    (Depending on the popularity of the magazine and the information provided on the website.)  Most mainstream literary magazines get an absurd number of submissions per month–far too many to give an acceptable reply to all of the authors.  Of course, you’re allowed to send at least one e-mail inquiring about the status of your submission, but don’t make it a habit; you’re just more like to annoy an editor that way.

3. Don’t limit yourself

    Or rather, don’t dismiss publications that don’t pay.  Even non-paying publications get a great deal of readers.  If you want to get your work out there, the best way to do that would be to… just get it out there, no matter where it’s published.  Editing a magazine of meager reputation is still a labor of love; not everyone who wants to publish can afford to pay.  Instead of monetary compensation, you get your name (and stories) in circulation.

4. Lastly, but not least, if an editor actually goes through the trouble to give extended comments or feedback on your work, do not take this personally.

   Whether your work is accepted by the magazine or not, reflects nothing of your character–and may not reflect anything of your talent either.  If an editor doesn’t have the most positive things to say about your fiction, thank him/her for the consideration and send your work elsewhere.  (You may also choose to take some of their advise and partake of some revision.)  The only way to increase your chances of publication is to submit your work to as many magazines, publishing houses, or small presses as possible.  Case in point, J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone was rejected a whopping twenty-one times before a publisher decided to take it.  And now look where she is!