Submit Yourself

Submission. What a word. I submit to you. Sounds nasty, yes? And, in the writing world, in many ways, it is because submission so often leads to rejection. In writing, we are all the geeky kid with thick glasses asking the popular kid to the dance. "No," that kid will say about ninety percent of the time in a firm and dismissive tone represented by a rag-tag rejection notice with whatever version of "thanks but no thanks" the editors could cook up.

I'm not bashing literary magazines or small presses. It's not their fault. The sheer number of submissions would overwhelm even the most dedicated literature champion. When I worked as a fiction editor for River Styx magazine, we received anywhere from six hundred to over a thousand submissions per month. That didn't include the poetry contest, which was immensly popular. It is impossible for volunteers and poorly paid editors (in many cases) to go through each submission and respond to it as it deserves. This is simply the world we live in; a world described by a former teacher of mine as a "renaissance" in reference to the number of people writing and submitting their work. I suppose we live with the positives and negatives of any movement, renaissances included.

That being said, writers must prepare themselves for the ineviatable rejection slips that will show up and not take them as a personal affront to their craft. Of course, this is old hat. Many students of the craft and those of us down the craft development road have heard this addage at conferences, in classrooms, and from our peers. Ultimately, however, I want to do something that many of the "experts" argue should not be done. I encourage students to send out what they believe to be their best work. Everyone should continue to adhere to the "don't-send-it-out-until-its-ready" rule, but believing in your work should not be accompanied by a keep-it-under-wraps approach. Send those stories and poems out into the world. Everyone should know where they stand when it comes to publication. That jagged little pill will most likely come back at you, but keep working, keep banging at the door. Sometimes, the porter hears you. Sometimes, the popular kid says yes.

Please share any experiences you've had with submission, rejection, and acceptance. I recently sent out a run of stories to several places and am awaiting word though I've heard the "thanks but no thanks" call from a few places so far.

The Art of Production

I started this blog with the idea that I would allow my students, and others, a more unique look into my life as a writer. A few weeks ago, I was reading at the local public library. During a question and answer period after the reading, I was asked "With your schedule, when do you write?" My answer? "I don't." At the time, the answer seemed reasonable. I teach a lot during the semester. I am involved in several other projects that I deem important and relevant. I have a family. There are many reasons my production level decreases, especially during the semester.

Two weeks later, or thereabouts, I find the answer harrowing, terrifying, and a bit overwhelming. I have heard too many older people say that they are just coming back to writing after "taking time off to raise a family." I remember giving advice to a friend when I was starting out as a writing teacher. He was writing a novel and was considering taking time off from writing. I urged him to reconsider. I told him if he left the novel, he would never finish it. He did leave it. He has never finished it. And so, I am faced with a similar dilemma, and I have decided that despite my commitments to so many important paths, my writing and my craft (after my family) are of the utmost importance. Production is key, as it always has been. I tell my students to write, write, write; read, read, read, read, read, read. So, there it is.

In light of this, I have decided, with the encouragement and support of my wonderful wife, to apply for residencies and to seek out opportunities to write during the summer months particularly. I will also schedule specific times during the day that will be devoted to my work. If I am going to ask it of my students, I should know what I ask. Perhaps this is not the best thing to place out there in the open as I seek publication of my manuscript, but this is an honest and real problem. Many writers struggle with time constraints, "real" jobs, (gulp) family commitments (I gulp because it is most likely taboo to write what I just wrote), and other hurdles that hinder production and creation. Some of us have jumped over these hurdles. I know we have because there are books on the shelves written by people who teach at community colleges, four-year schools, high schools, and so on; people who have families and pets and children in daycare and elderly parents. It is a solvable issue, and I intend to find the path that will lead to more production, better production, and, ultimately, publication. I hope you will, too.

Write on, my friends.