A thoughtful response to last week’s post
That was an interesting email you posted at the Brevity site from the reader who wanted to know if only published writers get published. While I agree with your assertion that there’s a reason we keep seeing certain writers published again and again in literary journals (they’re darn good writers), I also believe their success sometimes feeds on itself.
The problem with that is writers–even famous and the famously published ones– are a lot like songwriters: not everything they write is a great song. Yet, I’ve seen some good writers with name recognition get certain essays and stories published that were whiffs and misses (in my humble opinion). We recently studied an essay by a very well-known and established writer in one of my comp classes where I thought “if a student handed this in I’d suggest it needs some revision.” The essay, I felt, went off-topic in the middle, delayed the “what the hell is this about?” far too long, and hastily tied things up in an abrupt conclusion. Not only was this an essay that had been published once, but it got in that magical wheelhouse of the Society of Academic Gatekeepers where it had been printed and reprinted many times.
The bottomline is that I have far less precious time in front of an editor’s face with my piece than do writers whose reputations precede them. Whereas an editor might read through pages 4,5, and 6 to find the payoff from an established writer, I better sure as hell hook that editor in the first couple of paragraphs–and even then only if the story isn’t of the kind or sort the editor has a personal pet peeve about (re: “I don’t do coming-of-age stories. Next”).
And the famous writer isn’t going to have his/her submission crumpled and tossed in the recycle bin because he or she didn’t include an SASE or forgot to put the story title in bottom-left corner of every page.
That said, it would be unfair to paint all publications and all editing staffs with the same brush (as those good and sincere souls reading this who are feeling indignant because they know what I’m saying doesn’t apply to them or their publications). I’ve certainly received rejection letters that were fairly earned once I saw the issue come out saw all the strong writing in it (Brevity comes to mind). And I’ve certainly been surprised on occasion by a nice handwritten note from an editor. But I’ve more times than not in the submission game been made to feel like an unimportant number, someone burdening an already burdened staff who has been jaded and burnt out by the heavy load of submissions. I’ve certainly read more than my share of editorials and editor interviews in journals and magzines of the “if you want me to sniff your submission, you sure as hell better jump through these hoops correctly–because you wouldn’t believe the crap I have to put up with on a daily basis.”
Understood–and right back at you.
As a wise colleague of mine once said: “if you can’t handle the work load, don’t cash the check.” I realize many of these publications aren’t money-making enterprises, but I believe that if you can’t treat those who submit like human beings and remember EACH one of those submissions contains a naked part of the author’s soul, well, you should consider shutting the operation down and go do something you can handle with quality customer service–whether that be selling beads at a flea market or cutting meat at the local deli.
But the real question is why writers keep putting up with the abuse: a submission done right costs about $1 or more to send out. That adds up in a hurry–especially when the payoff is “two copies and a pat on the back” if that writer does miraculously get a bite. And especially when the rejection notes are more often than not robotic form letters stuffed in your SASE by college students or interns.
Editors sometimes think writers need to hear the hard truth about their writing. The truth is a lot of stuff that comes across their desks isn’t that good. Understood. But I also think editors need to hear the hard truth–like this–right back at them at times.
Best regards, Bill Milligan
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Bill Milligan teaches composition, journalism, and creative nonfiction at Bay College in Escanaba, Michigan. As he has tenure and his dean doesn’t care if he ever publishes or not, he feels secure in sharing his feelings openly about the writing business. He can be reached at milligab39@yahoo.com Please feel free to use profanity when contacting him if it helps. He understands the therapeutic value of venting.