Tag: Lit Mag

  • Thinking Out Loud (Online Lit Zine Idea)  

    I’m still kicking around the online lit magazine idea. I haven’t made any plans yet, just thinking it over. I did ask one editor a question about submissions, but other than that, haven’t made any progress on it.

    But I thought today would be as good as any day to put out some ideas and see if any of them stick.

    First, I still don’t have a name for the thing, and knowing me, it will be the last thing I do. What I have been thinking about is calling the project an “online lit zine.” Calling it a “magazine” sounds too ambitions and serious. Now, calling it a “journal” is a bit too pretentious, even for me. And then there is “zine” which feels a bit closer to the spirit of what I am attempting; which at this moment is not a whole lot, but “zine” does leave the door open to being funky and eccentric. Also, the first professional thing I ever got published was in a Dallas music zine, so it’s like an ode to my beginnings.

    I have also been thinking about the format of the thing, and publication in general. My first idea was to publish a flash piece a week, you know, and email it out to subscribers – like most online magazines do. I would like to get away from publishing an issue once, or several times a year. I prefer the idea that someone would submit something, I like it, it goes up right away. I prefer the idea of speed and immediacy. I am sure if and when I do this, I will come to understand why you should take your time and wait months and months after accepting a piece, to publish it. But as of right now, let’s get’em up! (Shoot now, ask questions later!) It would be cool to post five days a week, fifty-two weeks a year, and give around 260 writers a slot.  

    And I have to sell schwag on the site. I mean, is there any other way for an online lit zine to stay afloat? This does go back to needing a catchy name, co-opting an appropriate attitude. Then I would have to make runs of products limited, and over charge for them. Unless you get published on the site, then you would get it for free.

    Okay, I’m going to roll this over in my head now, and see what sticks.

    This might be a mistake, but feel free to drop a line sharing what you think works or doesn’t work when it comes to online lit magazines.

    And while I’m at it, like and subscribe you freeloaders.

  • That Was A Fast Rejection

    So, I had a flurry of submissions that I sent out at the end of January. On the 31st of January to be exact. The month had flown by, and I had fallen behind on some projects, but I made a promise to myself that I was going to get submissions out before the end of the month. I sent out a handful, all to lit journals that I felt my work complimented. Just playing the game like a million other writers.

    I do appreciate that the readers and editors of these journals can get inundated with submissions, and though they try their best, it can take time before they are able to respond. (I once got an email from an editor apologizing for taking so long on my submission, and then a month later they rejected me.) Everyone wants an answer sooner than later, and I do like that some journals says that you should expect a response after three months… if not sooner.

    This afternoon I just received a rejection, after only nine days.

    They were fast; I do like that.

    It was substantially shorter than three months; I don’t like that.

    In all fairness, it’s a rather odd duck of a flash piece.

    See, I want to believe that there was a little bit of a debate over there. Like the reader is fighting for my piece, but the editor is holding strong that there really isn’t a place for my story in their publication, even though it is well written. Then other editors and readers start weighing in. The debate starts getting tense. Voices start rising. People are getting mad. Resignations are threatened; accusations of favoritism are made; mass chaos envelopes the office!

    But, then cooler heads prevail. Drinks are had; apologies given; laughs are shared; everyone starts talking about why they got into publishing in the first place; the power of words and ideas; given people opportunities to share their voices and insights. It’s a thankless job; always on the verge of collapse; no one makes any money.

    “We do this because we love it.” Someone says.

    Everyone agrees, and smiles.

    Then the managing editor adds, “But we got to reject that story.”

    “That’s true,” the reader agrees.

    “Send him the form letter of death!”

    They all start laughing…

    I guess what I’m saying is that if they would have held onto it for at least a month, then my ego wouldn’t be so bruised.

    But, rejection is part of the game.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Crypto Scam, Sick Kid, Reject Me Already, and Thanksgiving

    (Don’t flood it…)

    So, Sam Bankman-Fried is going to jail for a very long time. I’m sure you know this, but crypto is a scam. Or, if I’m being polite, it’s just a new form of gambling. And SBF gambled and got caught. From everything that I read about this guy, he was too smart for his own good. He struck me as the type of person who was, and knew he was, smarter than everyone else, and somehow thought he could use his intelligence to get himself out of this situation. In the end, he was a con-artist, and he coned a lot of people. Including some other very smart people. Also, I am aware that as soon as I post this, I will get inundated with a bunch of crypto bots trying to get me to buy crypto.

    And the kid is sick. We watched “Let’s Make a Deal” this morning together. That was sweet. She’s running a fever, and feels awful, but she gets the iPad all day, so it’s not all bad.

    And as of this minute, I have yet to be rejected by Taco Bell Quarterly. They are one of my favorite online lit journals, and I’m not saying that because I submitted a story to them. TBQ has an attitude not unlike a favorite underground punk band that is parts hilarious, offensive, and friendly all at the same time. Anyway, the other day TBQ announced that they were sending out rejection letters and… I’m waiting for my rejection letter. They did say it would take some time, as they have to send out 2,800+ rejections. Over on TBQ’s X/Twitter feed, writers who have received their rejections are editing and marking out their letters to create new messages of varying degrees of positive/negative statements. It’s been fun to watch. But still… Where’s my rejection letter?

    Now that Halloween is over, time to start prepping for Thanksgiving. For me, that means making chicken, turkey and mushroom stock ahead of time. As well as stock piling non-perishable food. I’m getting ahead this year, and watch how this will play out. I’m sure I’ll be writing about it often.

  • A Polite Rejection Letter to Kilgore Trout

    At the start of this year, I decided that I would actively work towards getting one of my short stories published in a lit magazine. To accomplish this task, I came up with a schedule that I would follow during the week, you know, while the kid was in school. In this schedule, I had time set aside to write, re-write, outline, and do research for stories I was working on. Also, I made time to do research on publications that I wanted to submit to, and submitted as well. It was a good system, as I did get a solid amount of work done in a very short time, which left me feeling productive. Now, for Summer, I stopped following the schedule because the kid was home, and vacations, and other home projects. After Labor Day, when the kid returns to school, I’ll get back to my work flow.

    I bring this up because, even though I haven’t actively worked on anything for two months, I’m getting responses from all the magazines I submitted to at the start of the year. I have yet to be accepted by anyone, no shock there. When I get the rejection email, it’s a form letter, which is to be expected, and I take no offense to it. During my time working for a publisher, and it was a very tiny publisher, we were inundated with submissions, and it was hard to stay on top of it. You needed form letters. So, it goes…

    Yet, the one I got yesterday has caused me to wonder me, slightly. It was the type of rejection letter that thanked me for submitted, but unfortunately they couldn’t find a place for my story in the magazine, and wished me luck in the future. All pretty standard stuff, and I don’t believe insincerely meant. Then the letter took a turn. They told me I was welcomed to submit again, that they accepted simultaneous submissions as well, and added a list of websites that contained lists of other publications to submit to. I took this to mean that they were trying to be encouraging – that there are hundreds, if not thousands, of other publications out there. I thought it was a nice touch. I spent twenty years doing theatre, an industry that is built on persevering rejection, so getting told no is nothing new.

    What I started thinking about this morning was the lists, of lists, of lists of publications out there. In essence, these publications wouldn’t exist unless there was a bottomless collection pond of unpublished stories to draw from. I know of no publication or publisher that has a lack of material submitted to them; lack of talent might be a different story. There are probably millions of unpublished writers in America. People we may never read, or ever know of. Billions of words and ideas that never get beyond a small circle of friends and family.

    At moments like this, I start to wonder if there aren’t just millions of Kilgore Trouts running around. I mean, minus publishing stories in porn mags, but I think you get the idea. Maybe there should be a Kilgore Trout Society for unpublished writers. Their symbol could the asterisk.

    (You know, if you liked it, please take a second to “like” it, or comment or share. There is a version of me that really needs the validation.)

  • Where I’m At

    I got rejected from another lit magazine yesterday. I submitted to five at the end of January/beginning of February. That would be three rejections in the past two weeks. I am expecting to be rejected by the final two magazines, and then we will start this whole process over again.

    I am reminding myself that everyone I know who has a successful career in the arts had to put in about ten years of ground work first. The other thing that comes to mind is what my dad told me about achieving a goal; you get 100 no’s before the first yes, so get the no’s out of the way. So, 97 more no’s to go.

    Now that I have the self-affirmation shit out of the way, I think I’m going to subscribe to “The Drift” today. It’s a quarterly lit mag, written by people who are younger than me. I mean, not that much younger, but still, I have a few years on them. Anyway, I feel the need to discover some new ideas.

    I have been able to get back to reading regularly, and I am making headway through “The Stories of John Cheever.” I still have “60 Stories” by Donald Barthelme that I seem to have been working on for five years, but I am feeling like 2022 is the year it will be finished. Furthermore, I feel like I will be making a trip down to The Strand soon, and see what I can find.

    Yeah. That’s where I’m at.