Life as a writer can be hard sometimes. Success is elusive; fans shift as often as a summer wind. Yet, we persevere––writing into the late hours of the night and waking in the early hours of the morning to enter, for a time, the worlds we create. When I first started writing, more than a decade ago, it was because I loved the idea of immersing myself in a place where I could construct the narrative: walk through dense forests and to the tops of mountains. Over time, the process became more about writing as a tool to move through emotions and languishing memories that required catharsis.
Writing takes on many forms, for many different writers, over the course of our lives. For me, the process is the reward.
I love to write.
When I ask myself that silly question of what I would do if I had all the money in the world, the answer is always quite simple: write. More than a decade later, I have a renewed sense of purpose and have become quite adept at balancing the spinning plates of responsibility.
Working at a magazine was a wonderful experience.
There are so many moving parts that enliven your day. Sometimes I spent the day sorting through fiction and poetry submissions, searching for that piece of prose, or a stanza, which ensnared my imagination. Other days I edited, constantly referring to the Chicago Manual of Style to ascertain the correct usage of an archaic sentence structure. As a writer, the prospect of editing and rummaging through the work of others might not sound exciting, but there are some wonderful consequences:
- You learn to become a better editor of your own work.
- You begin to recognize redundant sentence structures and overused phrases.
- Your grasp of language grows exponentially.
However, the most critical component for me is:
- You get to help others bring their work into a public forum.
For many writers, and certainly for me early in my writing career, the notion of being picked up by a magazine or a small press was foremost in my mind. It was that distant promise of publication, and everything that goes with it, that pushed me forward. When I got rejection letters, most of which lacked an individualized touch, I would question my writing and denigrate my ability.
The years passed, during which thousands of rejection letters amassed, and I realized that the pursuit of writing for a purely extrinsic reward was dooming myself to Vegas-style odds. It became clear to me that I needed to write because I loved it, and then find a way to share it with others––even if it was not through traditional routes. I was more comfortable with my writing when I did it for the pure joy of it.
Now that I am on the other side of the fence, I have noticed a few myths about submitting to paying publications that otherwise mystified and frustrated me prior to becoming an editor and being responsible for interacting with first-time and established authors.
I have decided to provide a humorous, but serious, collection of things you should do and things you should not do when submitting and entering a discourse with a publication––sprinkled, of course, with some anecdotes. And without further ado (or slight ado if you count this sentence here):
Things You Should Do
- Read the publication you are submitting to before sending an email. This one sounds obvious, I know. However, it happens so often that it warrants mentioning. If you have written a brilliant piece of prose that is about zombies, it is quite likely that Popular Mechanics will not be that interested in it. Pick up an issue of the magazine or publication you are interested in submitting to and familiarize yourself with the kinds of stories they publish. The next part is the hardest part: Be honest. Does your piece fit with what they publish?
- Read and follow the submission instructions. Again, a no-brainer. If you are thinking that you do not know where to find the submission instructions and you just have an email address, be prepared for disappointment. Your email might go to submission purgatory with a one-liner response about having received your correspondence––if you are lucky.
- Address your submission to the appropriate person. If you are thinking that I am giving you the obvious pointers, then you are quite right. With that in mind, imagine that I still receive hundreds of emails a month that manage to ignore these simple suggestions. If you are writing a stunning exposé on corporate greed, the poetry editor is not the best destination for your work.
- Edit your work. I tell this to students a lot, so I will mention it here as well: Spell check in Microsoft Word is not sufficient. I am not saying that you need to be a copyeditor to submit to a magazine but do yourself a favor and read it aloud. If something sounds funny when you read it, you can only imagine how it will sound to an editor who is choosing among thousands of articles and stories to determine what goes to print.
- Be cognizant of turnarounds. By this I mean the amount of time between when you sent in the work until you hear back from an editor about the status of your submission. Nothing will send your work to the bottom of a slush pile quicker than sending a follow-up email the day after you submit, wondering whether you are going to be in the magazine. Most publications will post how long it takes to hear back from them about the status of a submission, and the amount of time after which you should contact them if you have not heard anything.
Things You Should Not Do
- Send an email implying a publication would be stupid not to publish your work. It always surprises me when I get an email telling me that I need to publish a story, poem, or piece of nonfiction because it is the next best thing. Top this off with letting me know that I would be a fool not to accept it almost guarantees a trip to the trash can.
- Send a photocopy of your story by registered mail. If you want to have your story in a magazine, start by giving it to the editors in a format they can use. By sending a faded and blurry photocopy of your forty-word poem and declaring that it is a soul-searching masterpiece does not inspire as much confidence as you would think.
- Contact an editor on a frequent basis about the status of your submission. I must sort through hundreds of emails a day, edit for the current issue, and edit an anthology––not to mention a thousand other intangibles. We posted a timetable about getting back to you for a reason.
- Be discouraged by a form rejection letter. This is a bitter pill to swallow for many writers. They think the form rejection letter means that the editor did not read their work, or simply had things already planned and was stringing writers along. The reality is, in any given month, I send out hundreds upon hundreds of rejection letters. There is simply not enough time in the day to offer feedback to every single person. This is not to say that I do not offer feedback, or that editors do not offer feedback in general, but instead the process is streamlined so writers can be responded to in a reasonable amount of time.
- Call to find out about your submission. This is subsumed by not contacting an editor about the status of your submission before enough time has passed, but I thought it warranted a special mention considering it is really going the extra mile in terms of being an irritation. If we have not gotten back to you yet, calling us is not going to suddenly make us more accessible.
- Send another submission email with corrections. Read twice, send once. If you do not think what you sent is ready for publication, then please do not send it. You get one chance at a first impression, and nothing speaks to being unprepared and unprofessional than sending a draft and immediately following up with another draft. If your piece needs work, note that in your submission, but do not send a series of emails chronicling the various stages of the edits for that story.
- Contact the publication to air your frustrations about not being selected. I say this with all seriousness. It is highly likely that you got rejected because the piece was not a good fit and not that the magazine has decided to order a hit on your writing career. Please do not treat it that way. Lashing out at a publication for sending a form rejection letter, or passing on a piece you have written, reeks of a lack of professionalism and could impact your ability to publish elsewhere. Many editors are friends, especially in the digital age, and word spreads fast.
I could keep listing things you should not do, but I will wrap it up there. I encourage you to keep trying and keep writing. Things only get better with time, and time is all we really have.
Dan O'Brien | Author & Consultant 