To Erastes (Comment #1):

Answer From William Maltese:

In my case, becoming prolific, at the very outset of my career, was merely the result of having a publisher who would publish just about anything I wrote. The more I wrote, the more I was paid, the more I could spend. So, that was decided incentive to keep on writing, and keep on writing a lot, and keep on writing fast. There was the added advantage of not having to spend too much time proofing a manuscript, in those days (nor did the editor spend much time proofing, either); I started writing erotica back in the days of pulp fiction, when some books (although certainly not mine) were full of typos and not really considered “literature”, because they were obviously more concerned with satisfying the prurient interest of the reader than in being grammatically correct.

Now days, publishers of “pulp” fiction no longer in existence, the incentive that I had is no longer there. Today’s publishers usually make it a point NOT to publish the same author more than once or twice a year, just because to do otherwise gives the impression that the author is producing inferior work on an assembly-line basis. (Actually, there was the same problem in the old days, which is why I ended up with over twenty-six pseudonyms over the course of my writing career).

I can say that my reputation of being prolific is sometimes (but not always) the result of my having not thrown away anything I’ve ever written. I’ve kept just about everything, including manuscripts that some editor or another told me was, “Pure, unadulterated crap!” So, sometimes, like quite recently, when I find myself being asked by several publishers to provide “something for them”, it’s easy for me to grab something from my already existent stockpile of stuff that I’ve never thrown away. By revising what I have on hand and/or reworking it slightly, I end up with a lot of stuff published at once (one man’s shit is another man’s fertilizer), which often makes me seem prolific when it’s only a case of my having capitalized upon work that I’ve already done.

I can also confess, although I’m not quite sure if this is good or bad, to being an author who really doesn’t consider what I write as Gospel. I mean, there are authors who labor over each and every word and are so reluctant to change anything, that editors don’t like to spend the time or bother. Once I finish a book, I’m usually so damned bored with it, I don’t much care what an editor does with it as long as my check is in the mail. My boredom also making me what to get through with a book quickly, or less it won’t (yawn) get finished at all.

All of which just means that most of the “things” that have really accounted for my prolific output aren’t in place today; which leaves me, I’m afraid, a little unqualified to make any recommendations. Except, maybe, to write…write…write…and hold on to everything you do write, even if it doesn’t immediately find a publisher.