Reader Request: The Other Side of the Coin

Shome Dasgupta writes:

I’ve gained much insight into what an editor looks for in submissions and what frustrates them and what makes things easier for them–I was wondering, as a writer, what frustrates you when submitting to journals, and what makes it easier for you when submitting to journals?

Most of my editorial opinions have been significantly informed by my experiences as a writer so much of what I might have to say in response to this question will be repetitive.

As a writer, there are many things that frustrate me about the cycle of submitting work to magazines. The very nature of the process, where you subject yourself to someone else’s judgment is fraught with tension. There is no ideal set of circumstances when you make yourself vulnerable as a writer. I’m also a pretty easy going person. I’ll complain because I enjoy complaining but in general, I accept the submission process for what it is and don’t stress about it too much.

I get frustrated when it is hard to find a magazine’s submission guidelines. Scavenger hunts are only fun when drinking is involved. I also get frustrated when magazines have submission guidelines that are too specific. When you start to dictate font, font size, headers, footers, margins, page numbers etc., I start to wonder if you’re more interested in writing or formatting. Very specific guidelines send a message and that message is not very welcoming. Maybe that’s the point. As an editor, I get where some of that stringency comes from. I’ve seen submissions submitted in pink decorative fonts and that’s distracting. At the same time, if I get over myself for a minute, I just select all and then change the font to Times New Roman and get on with the business of reading the submission.

I don’t mind when editors ask for a cover letter but I do mind when they ask me to do circus tricks in the cover letter or assign what amounts to homework. It makes me feel like the editors are holding a spotlight over me saying, “Dance, writer, dance,” and I resent it.

Long wait times are my biggest peeve. As writers, we cannot beat this dead horse enough. I get pretty antsy between 90-120 days, but when a submission is out for more than four months, my blood begins to boil. I’m pretty over the excuse that staffs are small and unpaid and whatever other martyr’s tale an editorial staff might offer. The PANK submissions are read an evaluated by no more than 2-3 people who have day jobs and we manage to keep our response times reasonable most of the time. We are not special or seeking approval for doing this. Responding to work in a reasonable amount of time is our responsibility. We don’t thank doctors when they give us our lab results in a reasonable amount of time. They’re just doing their job. It’s the same thing, only not a matter of life or death. Horrible analogy, that. I continue to believe that if you make submissions a priority, you can have reasonable (3 months or less) response times.

As I’m fond of noting here, it is 2009. When a magazine doesn’t accept electronic submissions, I am less inclined to submit my work. It is not about the cost of postage. I don’t mind paying a couple bucks to submit a story. I simply find mailing print submissions increasingly archaic, time consuming, and the practice also contributes to long wait times, save for The Threepenny Review which manages to only accept physical submissions while responding within a few weeks. Conversely, a part of me does think it important that there are stil publications who, intentionally or not, make it possible for writers who don’t use the Internet (there are a few out there, really) to submit their work. I also respect that many people prefer to read print submissions and don’t want to incur the expense of printing out each submission received. As a writer, I think, ugh, just adapt. And if you’re really worried about the expense of printing submissions, do what American Short Fiction, The Missouri Review, and other magazines do, and charge $2 a submission.

This brings me to paying to submit my writing to magazines. (Contest entries are a different thing. I have never entered a contest, not because I’m opposed to it but because I’m pretty lazy as a writer and don’t have the energy to keep track of that sort of thing.)   I do not mind paying less than $3 (3 or 4 times a year) to submit my writing electronically because that’s about what it costs to print, envelope, and postage a submission.   Anything less than $5 from an electronic submission is indeed a relatively nominal fee provided that you have a bit of disposable income for such a fancy. There are magazines who charge more.

TANGENT: All eyes turn to Narrative. An awkward hush fills the room. Twenty dollars to submit a general submission is not a nominal fee and if you are that lucky person for whom $20 is a nominal fee,   share the wealth. I don’t get as riled up as many others do about Narrative. They are charging what the market will clearly bear in a free economy. If a writer is of age, and of sound mind, and believes in their writing enough to pay $20 per submission, to my mind, they are free to do so. Is it exploitative? Absolutely. It is particularly damning when you look at who they publish in each issue and who wins their contests. It is also damning when you consider that there is clearly some accounting shadiness. But again, free economy. Whatever. I, like others, think of Narrative as the lottery for writers. You have to play to win. The one thing that really gets me about the $20 fee is that you still have to wait a long time for a response. For $20, they should be responding within 2 weeks and they should be responding personally, otherwise, what the hell are you paying for? I’ve only submitted to them once, myself. Haven’t heard back yet. But I was curious, and it was worth the money to satisfy my curiosity. I’ll let you all know about how long it took to get a response and the nature of the response and then we can dissect it and burn the response in effigy. I think that will be fun.

I’ve seen a few interesting discussions in the past couple weeks, primarily over at HTMLGiant, about form rejections. I don’t mind rejection letters. I don’t think I’m owed anything as a writer. I willingly submit my work and I willingly accept the consequences of that act. If my work doesn’t move you enough to respond personally, I need to look within myself and my writing. When an editor is so gracious as to respond to my writing with a personal rejection, I am very grateful and always always encouraged. Personal rejections, for me, are like finding money between my couch cushions–a very welcome surprise. Sometimes personal rejections are confusing or ambiguous but even then I know that someone cared enough to say something and given the silence that we often get from the submission void, it’s okay.

So conversely, the things that make it more pleasant to submit work are short response times, free electronic submissions, flexible guidelines, and when the editor is so moved, a personal response.

I also like to submit to magazines where the editors are willing to work with writing that shows promise and who are invested in developing a constructive relationship with me as a writer. I like to submit to magazines that are pretty. I really enjoy when an editor has flattering things to say about my writing when they accept a story. Compliments are the greatest.

What are your likes and dislikes about submitting your writing?