| Author | Message | ||
| ~M~
Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 28320 Registered: 11-1998 |
. From Poet’s Guide: How to Publish and Perform Your Work by Michael J. Bugeja Neal Bowers On Working with Editors “During my years as the editor of a literary journal, I often got the impression that writers thought of me as their adversary. To them, I was a troll on the bridge to publication, and unavoidable creature they had to defeat or outwit. All the while, I regarded myself as a friend to writers (being a writer myself), and I wanted nothing more than to find poems I liked well enough to publish. Spending most of my time reading manuscripts that I ultimately rejected (about 98 percent of all submissions) didn’t give me feelings of power or superiority. Quite the opposite, in fact; it made me weary and sad, which is partly why I decided to get out of the editing business. Looking back, though, I am proud of the seven years I spent trying to be helpful to writers. My advice to anyone submitting work for editorial consideration is simply this: Never lose sight of the fact that the editor is a human being, someone with feelings just like yours. He likes to be treated with respect and to be told occasionally that he is valued. I think most editors would agree that their editorial judgments, far from being final or definitive, are largely expressions of their singular tastes. A rejection is nothing personal, and an acceptance is certainly no elevation to sainthood. Both things are the result of the editor’s good faith attempt to be honest and fair to the writer. Editors are not always right. Most of us have turned down work, seen it published later in another journal, and then wondered if we made the right decision. Conversely, we sometimes second guess our own selections when browsing through back issues, occasionally shaking our heads in puzzlement. These doubts are the products of speed. Editors have to work more quickly than they would like, so there isn’t time to do much reflecting on an individual work. Consequently, each decision is the product of a specific moment and is usually made under pressure as the clock blinks away the minutes of a vanishing context. Whether or not they ever exchange letters or phone calls, writers and editors are engaged in a dialogue with one another about what constitutes good poetry. This can and should be a friendly exchange, if both parties regard one another with respect and keep in mind that they are engaged in a mutual enterprise.” David Citino On Corresponding with Editors I am a poet and an editor, so I don’t understand myself at all. In fact, it sometimes seems that half of me is always at war (or at least locked in grim negotiations) with the other half. Once, as a young poet, I got a letter from the editor of The Kenyon Review, expressing interest in a poem I’d submitted to the magazine but suggesting some revisions – rearrangements of a few stanzas and deletion of a line or two. Well, my first reaction was to write back immediately with a heated response which included my unwavering and passionate belief in my own genius and uncompromising commitment to Art. “My Dear Sir,” I would write, “This will not do!” The words “How dare you,” and “I am outraged” and “Appalled” came to mind. (I said I was young). Well, I cooled down, I’m happy to say, before I actually wrote the letter, and of course I’m glad I did. My initial intransigence was the same unthinking response I see in my own students in introductory writing classes: “But this poem is true; I wrote it exactly as it happened. To change a word would be to deny my vision as Artist.” There is (there must be) a difference between the experience that generated the poem and the poem itself – a thing of words, after all. (Thus I’m not criticizing your grandmother but rather the poem about your grandmother which you have written.) And a poem, I tell them, is never ever finished (just as a grandmother is never finished). The poem of mine that The Kenyon Review ended up publishing was better than the one I sent them initially. The editor knew my poem better than I did, and I learned much from his detailed and patient attempt to get me to see – to read myself.” . | ||
| Shawn Nacona
Intermediate Member Username: shawn_nacona Post Number: 679 Registered: 03-2007 |
M, Thank you so much for sharing this with us, recently I have had a few rejections and it is always good to read an editors perspective although I try not to let any rejection get me down at all. I am a little guilty of doubting the quality of my own work when I receive a rejection and it compels me to put the work back through workshop and try at it again in the hopes that I can make it better through more revision. It is true that a poem is never really finished. Anne Sexton was known for publishing revisions of works that had been published once or more times before. Recently I have been rejected by "The New Yorker," "The Christian Science Monitor," “Rattle," and "Stirring." I have just learned that you cannot take it personally because it really is nothing personal, these editors do not know me so why would they have anything personal against me or my work. Since I have been working on online workshops I have come to realize that most editors are poets as well and they just choose what they feel is the best of what they received submission wise and it does not mean the work is not publishable or could be if you work at it a little bit more. Will I still read all of these publications? Of course, rejections are just part of growing as an author and we should learn from them. Michael and David both gave great pointers in these write ups and I really enjoyed them, thanks again for sharing! Cheers! Shawn Nacona http://shawnnacona.wordpress.com/ | ||
| Emusing
Senior Member Username: emusing Post Number: 5255 Registered: 08-2003 |
Thanks so much for posting this M. I could relate from many points. I appreciated especially: My initial intransigence was the same unthinking response I see in my own students in introductory writing classes: “But this poem is true; I wrote it exactly as it happened. To change a word would be to deny my vision as Artist.” There is (there must be) a difference between the experience that generated the poem and the poem itself – a thing of words, after all. (Thus I’m not criticizing your grandmother but rather the poem about your grandmother which you have written.) And a poem, I tell them, is never ever finished (just as a grandmother is never finished). Once the poem is in the hands of the reader it takes on its own life so it must always be about what is on the page. If the poet wishes to make that experience more vivid he can but the bottom line is to serve the poem, and not the poet (which ultimately serves the poet anyway!). This doesn't mean that someone offering feedback needs to be insensitive to the poet's desires only that the work must exist independent of the poet. When the poet is long gone it will be his words that will speak on his behalf. I don't agree that a poem is never finished though I believe that as we continue to grow as poets and editors, our vision and our ability to articulate that vision may necessitate modifications to previously completed works. e www.wordwalkerpress.com | ||
| ~M~
Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 28341 Registered: 11-1998 |
I'm so glad that both of you enjoyed these conversations. I find sitting on both sides of the fence (editor, writer) as difficult as both these men say it is. And I think that if writers try to stop seeing editors as adversaries, it will do much to keep the peace in both their hearts. Editors want to accept work. They'd like nothing better than to discover the next Pinsky, the next Olds. We look forward to each submission batch with great hope in our hearts, praying that the next great poet is in there. Editors really aren't the mean-spirited trolls that some writers think they are. When you get your hands on that beautifully done poem, the one that springs out of the submission batch right into your lap, it is a moment of wonder. And you almost want to get down on your knees in gratitude. At least that's how it's been for me during the last ten years I've been editing. As to what Citino said about poems never being finished, E, I think in addition to the literal (numerous edits), he was speaking to the metaphorical, and what you pointed out earlier in your comments. A poem in the hands of the reader takes on a life of its own. And as long as there are readers to read, the poem lives and changes. It evolves with each person who reads it. So in that respect, even the works of a Homer or an Ovid are never ever finished. Thanks to both of you for sharing your thoughts. Love, M | ||
| MV
Senior Member Username: michaelv Post Number: 714 Registered: 11-2003 |
Thanks MJM for bringing these to the house. I appreciate them, and I would recoomend them to others. Hope you are having a good week  Michael (MV) | ||
| Russell D. Daily
Valued Member Username: russelld Post Number: 216 Registered: 12-2007 |
I didn't appreciate the value of an editor until I came to Wild. The help I have received is invaluable. Russell Just write. Let the reader sort it out. | ||
| GA Sunshine
Advanced Member Username: ga_sunshine Post Number: 1241 Registered: 06-2006 |
I still exchange Christmas email greetings with the first editor that published a few poems and short stories of mine. Because of him, I realized that most editors are 'human'. Still, just like with teachers, there are a few that are power hungry. On initial contact, you don't know with which type you are dealing. My 2cents worth. (inflation $2 worth.) *Hugs* Susan | ||
| Judy Thompson
Intermediate Member Username: judyt54 Post Number: 698 Registered: 11-2007 |
The best way to minimize the effect of rejection is to not send out one wee packet to one editor and wait. Send out five packets to five editors, and then two more, and then another, so that you have rolling stock out there. When one comes back, it's not the only baby you had. You feel disappointed, but not overwhelmed. The editors who have enough time to scrawl even a note at the edge of the rejection slip are the ones I treasure, even though I also know that scrawled "sorry' might even be a reader. One of the most heartbreaking things I ever received was a rejection from Antioch Review, with a note saying, "I fought for this, but I was outvoted." I never want to know how close I come in being rejected. *g* |
