Black Library 2019 Open Submission
As I continued the attempts to push myself in putting my writing out there I decided to try for the 2019 open submission window. I had been writing a bit of background for my own marine chapter. So I figured I would put a story about them forward. The submission required authors to write a pitch based on a tight knit group. Somewhat akin to examples such as the Gaunt's Ghosts series. To that end I sat down and created a story set at the outset of the Eye of Terror opening, and splitting the galaxy in half. The story would be a swan song for my chapter. That is right the first thing I planned to do was kill my own chapter. The story would follow the stories of the last brothers of the Novacastellan Chapter Astartes as they fight to survive as their homeworld is almost swallowed by the Cicatrix Maledictum. In the pitch I provided a list of dramatis personae with all the background on the characters. With this pitch you were also required to provide a sample of your writing. Here is the sample I provided.
Smoke
choked the road way with all the oppressive hunger of some stalking predator.
Berdatus swept his scope across the roadway intersection that he had made his
killing field. The bodies of cultists lay bloating in the rising heat of
midday. The occasional static of the vox bead in his ear, the only sound that
dared break the gnawing silence. For the briefest moment hope welled up in the scout
that mines had killed whatever traitor had triggered them. Then came another
sound. A metallic scape, almost like a knife being drawn against a whetstone.
Then the world around Berdatus exploded.
The
masonry around him disintegrated and showered sharp fragments across his
position. The scope dove for cover, and below him tracer fire burst from the
smoke cloud. From the swirling smoke a helbrute limped like a wounded maniac
into the intersection. The beast’s assault cannon sending a nigh never ending
fusillade into the scout’s tower. It had his position locked in, and was pouring
fire into it. Like a rabid hound attempting to dig out a particularly elusive
hare. Berdatus cast his eyes around frantically as he searched for a response
to the threat that assailed him. In the rapidly crumbling tower the scout had
assembled a respectable collection of weaponry from the chapter’s armoury. All
the weapons that his limited training had covered. Sniper rifles, bolters,
shotguns, and a missile launcher that lay against the far wall of the room.
Berdatus
spat a stream of Low Gothic curses as he looked longingly at the cobalt and
steel tube. To reach the weapon he knew he would have to expose himself, albeit
briefly, to the incoming fire of the now roaring warp infused monster below.
The beast would only need a second to zero in a kill-shot on the young scout.
The helbrute’s roar became a keening screech that echoed off the walls of the nearby
buildings, and clawed at Berdatus’ mind like some unseen set of talons. As
suddenly as the fusillade had begun it snapped to a halt. Berdatus was breathing
heavily unsure of what had happened. Then the vox bead was filled by a voice
like the low growling threat of an approaching storm.
“I
have seen the death of worlds” Berdatus’ eyes shot wide with recognition, he
knew the voice of Chaplain Andel. He drew his combat blade and used its
reflective surface to peer over the edge of the wall. The hellbrute pivoted
side to side, metallic shearing sounded in its servos. It was as if it were
scenting the air. Seeking the blood of some new prey. Berdatus took the chance
to crawl towards the missile launcher. On his belly he slid agonisingly slow
towards the answer to the enemy that moments ago was bent on his destruction.
Andel’s voice burst over the vox once more.
“I have born witness to the Emperor’s wrath, been the blade upon the neck of
the condemned, seen the purging of the xenos, the witch, the heretic” Chaplain
Andel continued his booming sermon. Berdatus felt pride swell in his chest at
the words of the Chaplain. Sweat upon his brow he edged towards the launcher.
He reached the weapon and his hands were steady as he yanked back the loading
hatch and slid a krak missile into its breech. He cross checked the weapon with
all the calm efficiency of a training drill. He looked through a gap in the
wall and caught sight of a lone black clad Astartes. The figure walked down the
road that ran parallel to the hellbrute. Brother Chaplain Andel strode down
roadway with all the serenity of sermon delivered in the chapter’s own sanctum.
His empty palms were upturned to the sky, his arms cast wide. Andel’s next
oration broke over the vox.
“But not one of these sights, not one of those glorious moments can eclipse
this moment” he was nearing the intersection and the helbrute was narrowing
down the location of this intruder that dared to interfere with its hunt.
Berdatus was awed by the display Andel was making. He hurried to ready the
launcher, all the while he wondered if Andel had lost his sanity. The very thought
was beyond anything Berdatus had thought possible. For one of the angels of
death, for a chaplain no less, to break. The thought conjured up long forgotten
emotions. Berdatus hurriedly crawled back to his firing step.
Andel’s
voice was rising to a booming crescendo, the increase in volume made Berdatus
feel as if time was speeding away from him. Like some tide too fast to catch.
“For the Emperor has decreed that only in death does duty truly end” Andel all
but roared into the vox. He rounded the corner and reached the intersection.
Berdatus could clearly see the chaplain now. Andel’s plate was scored and
pitted by dozens of wounds. The skull mask of his helm was cracked and one of
the red eye lens had gone dim. His boots and greaves were stained red like rust
in the dried blood of his foes. His crozius hung at his hip. Across the roadway
the helbrute’s attention snapped onto the chaplain and it rounded on the marine.
Pained metal screeching heralded its turn. With Berdatus tore his attention off
Andel and noted that the turn exposed the Helbrute’s back to him. He scrambled
to bring the launcher up.
Andel
glared at the Helbrute in absolute defiance. “Look upon me foulness of the warp
and know that I rejoice to see my duty’s end” Andel called in challenge to the
Helbrute. He raised his hands to make the shape of the Aquila over his chest.
The hellbrute made a low rumbling sound that began to rise in pitch. The sound
dangerously close to mocking laughter. Andel could imagine the beast was savouring
the kill.
The
squad vox buzzed in Berdatus’ ear and a conspiratorial whisper came to his ear.
“Now brother Berdatus take your shot” Andel’s voice was low. Berdatus suddenly
saw the whole scenario fall into place and leapt into a firing stance. He
braced his legs and relied on his own enhanced senses as well the guidance of
Brother Domox’ marksmen lessons, rather than the scopes auto targeting assistance
to aim. He pulled the trigger and sent the krak missile on its streaming
course.
The Reflection
I screwed up. There is no way to know one hundred percent why I got rejected, as there is no humanly way for Black Library to provide feedback on each entry. It would require far too many servitors. Moreover, I will not go into the pointless conspiracy theories spout out on places like 1d4chan (as an aside if you want to read some bleak stuff go and look up their entry on the open submission window). My honest belief is that I made a criminal error. I failed to present for the pitch. Despite providing the background of the characters I fell into a trap. I wrote an action piece, and failed to write a piece showing the interaction between the characters, which was the real request behind the submission window.
In a recent interview with Track of Words Alec Worley spoke about pitching to Black Library and in that interview he had the following to say:
"
I would work on this for future attempts. Really tightening up my pitches for future open submissions. Although I would be lying if I said I had given up on the Novacastellans.
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