The Angry Letter
Lots of writers think e-submissions are the way to go—cheaper, faster, easier.
Lots of litmags are now willing to read them.
But not everyone is happy.
The writer of The Angry Letter, for example, complained that, in keeping her e-ms. only 15 days, VQR couldn't possibly have given it a careful, thorough, time-consuming read.
Dismayed, the VQR editors are thinking about "aging" their responses—letting them sit around for a few days—a practice we instituted years ago when we got our first Angry Letter.
We maintain our response time at about three weeks, which seems satisfactory to our submitters. No writer wants to wait forever, but part of the fantasy, at least for some, seems to be: "I have work out at VQR..."
Once, we got a complaint about a cursory, unconsidered read because the returned ms. was too clean and neat. Fortunately, this complaint included a new submission, which we were happy to tromp on, wrinkle, hot-chocolate-stain....as evidence of our assiduity and close attention.
In any case, the real complaint about a careful read ought to focus on who does the screening. Graduate students? Other wannabees? Good luck.
And do you really want those screeners scrolling away? Processing mss. as if they were IMs?
The real truth is that literature is slow. If you want fast, twitter.
Another real truth is that almost all submissions are rejected. For cause.
I read everything sent me; some manuscripts can be dismissed out of hand. Only a few, maybe ten percent, demand reading at leisure.
We accept one percent.
Not to whine, but it takes tremendous energy and unbounded good will to read through the slush pile.
It's worth it because, on occasion, there's a diamond in the haystack.
It would be nice if these diamonds always sparkled and were therefore easy to spot, but often they don't, they take on the coloration of the slush pile. They come on as unschooled, ill-packaged, clumsy, freaky, half-baked...
It is recognizing talents that would ordinarily get screened out that gives me my greatest pleasure, that makes my effort worthwhile. IMHO.
Lots of litmags are now willing to read them.
But not everyone is happy.
The writer of The Angry Letter, for example, complained that, in keeping her e-ms. only 15 days, VQR couldn't possibly have given it a careful, thorough, time-consuming read.
Dismayed, the VQR editors are thinking about "aging" their responses—letting them sit around for a few days—a practice we instituted years ago when we got our first Angry Letter.
We maintain our response time at about three weeks, which seems satisfactory to our submitters. No writer wants to wait forever, but part of the fantasy, at least for some, seems to be: "I have work out at VQR..."
Once, we got a complaint about a cursory, unconsidered read because the returned ms. was too clean and neat. Fortunately, this complaint included a new submission, which we were happy to tromp on, wrinkle, hot-chocolate-stain....as evidence of our assiduity and close attention.
In any case, the real complaint about a careful read ought to focus on who does the screening. Graduate students? Other wannabees? Good luck.
And do you really want those screeners scrolling away? Processing mss. as if they were IMs?
The real truth is that literature is slow. If you want fast, twitter.
Another real truth is that almost all submissions are rejected. For cause.
I read everything sent me; some manuscripts can be dismissed out of hand. Only a few, maybe ten percent, demand reading at leisure.
We accept one percent.
Not to whine, but it takes tremendous energy and unbounded good will to read through the slush pile.
It's worth it because, on occasion, there's a diamond in the haystack.
It would be nice if these diamonds always sparkled and were therefore easy to spot, but often they don't, they take on the coloration of the slush pile. They come on as unschooled, ill-packaged, clumsy, freaky, half-baked...
It is recognizing talents that would ordinarily get screened out that gives me my greatest pleasure, that makes my effort worthwhile. IMHO.
posted by ZYZZYVA at 7:34 AM
5 Comments:
FWiW, I'd want to know sooner than later. As a writer, rejections are all too much a part of the landscape--the sooner I know, the sooner I can move on.
But I may be part of a minority.
I'm with c(h)ristine on this one. I can only hope that Howard, who seems to be prodigious in his ability to connect names in subscriber lists, slush piles and blog comments makes the connection next time he gets one of my stories and rejects quickly.
So far my fastest response has been The Atlantic Monthly (9 days including round trip post). Slowest is Land-Grant College Review at 173 days and counting.
I'm all for the fast rejection too. Howard, you've rejected me, on average, within ten days of the postmark.
I once waited 13 months for an acceptance. At that point I had forgotten that the magazine even had the poems, so imagine my shock when I received the letter. But 13 months?!
I wonder if it isn’t even an issue of fast-or-slow. It’s more that the process is so invisible to us. We don’t know if 8 months means we made it into serious consideration or someone’s dog carried us under the couch. Likewise, we don’t know whether a 3-day response means “Joo R Slush-Pile” or “We Read Really, Really Fast.”
I know there are some curmudgeonly poets out there, but they’re going to complain about something, regardless of what you do with your subs. What would be interesting is to know more about how far something made, or where in the process it ended its journey. I suspect, with more and more journals implementing online submission systems, this may someday be more transparent to the submitter.
But, as someone who doesn't simultaneously submit, I would definitely prefer a quick, quick response.
I'm also a fan of the "Fail fast" approach. If I'm going to eventually get a rejection, I'd prefer the poems back in my hands so I can send them somewhere else. So don't worry, Howard!
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