Hello Friends,
Before I dig into the main subject of my post today, here are some things that inspired me this week:
Rainlight
Storms move in, clouds billow and roil, a cauldron of mist and lightning. They leave in a rush of wind for new towns to menace, then all is quiet. The last of the light touches each drop, crystal memories left behind on branches in the dusk.
Winter Simmer Pot
The citrusy spray from an orange peel, bright, ruby cranberries, the fragrant, clearing scent of rosemary, the spicy warmth of a cinnamon stick, all popped into a simmering pot of clear water, releasing love, protection, health and prosperity into my home.
Words and Worlds - Reads for the Month Ahead
Symbols on paper written in tears, in laughter, in blood. These are the places I will visit before bed, in my sleep, in my dreams. (List of books in the photo: The Witch Hunter, by Max Seeck, The Linchpin Writer, by John Matthew Fox, Nettle & Bone, by T. Kingfisher, The Ghosts of Beatrice Bird, by Louisa Morgan, and Weyward, by Emilia Hart)
Rejection, Growing, and the Road Ahead
And now for the main topic of my post today!
If you follow my Substack, you might remember last year I received some good news from a few different literary magazine editors. If you are already submitting to these kinds of journals, you understand there are shades of gray when it comes to feedback from them. If you are just starting out or have never considered submitting to them until now, here are some examples of the types of communications you can expect. I received all of these in 2023:
A form rejection: Expect to get a lot of these, unless you are a genius. These rejections are straight forward: “Thank you for submitting your story to [Name of Journal]. We have decided it is not right for us at this time. We wish you success in placing your story elsewhere.” Or something similar. In the beginning, I cried every time I got one. Now, I understand it’s just part of the game. It’s an agonizing, un-fun game, but once you understand it, it’s like hitting tennis balls against a wall. You will get stronger and better at fielding and returning them.
A glowing rejection: These types of rejections are frustrating because they are complimentary, but they are, in the end, a “no.” The editor who wrote mine actually sited sentences from my story, saying they were lyrical and delicate, and complimented my style. Ugh. Just outside the bullseye. However, receiving one of these is a sign that you’re on the right track. It’s a step closer, and I appreciated the editor’s time and critique. (Editors at literary magazines almost never do this, so I’m especially grateful.)
An acceptance: Of course, the best kind of communication to get from an editor. “We’ve decided to publish your story in our upcoming issue” is a sentence every writer wants to hear, and I was overjoyed to receive an acceptance letter last spring. They are little pieces of gold among the pebbles. They are the precious stepping stones on our journey forward.
A maybe, if: Another frustrating letter to receive is the “if you make these changes” letter. It’s a difficult decision: do I incorporate the edits suggested by the editor or keep my story as is and send it out somewhere else? When I received my maybe,if letter, I decided to try rewriting my story with the suggested edits. It’s hard. A friend of mine who has published seven novels told me he wouldn’t do it. My husband said I shouldn’t do it. But I decided I wanted the learning experience. What’s it like to rewrite my story with the guidance of an editor? Can I work with that kind of pressure? How many edits will be too much even for me? These are questions I’m in the process of exploring. I wasn’t able to finish before the editor’s publication date last year, but I was invited to resubmit this year, and I’m hard at work.
This last project has really stretched me as a writer. I’ve had to do research, change the arc of the story, give it more plot twists, and teach myself a new genre. I’ve had to draft scene lists to show the editor where the story might go. I never write scene lists. But already I see the value in them, and I might start incorporating them into my process.
Lastly, in order to meet the deadline this year, I must strike a balance between thinking about this like an assignment and a creative project. Knowing when to let the artist run wild and when to let the business person keep the schedule is challenging. Usually, I bridle at controls of any kind, and prefer creative freedom. But that’s unrealistic if I want to work with editors. And so, I’m growing into this experience, allowing it to teach me what I need to know. Even if it doesn’t work out, I will carry this forward to the next project.
What have you learned so far this year, and what are you growing into?
Until next time,
Jan