another thought on rejection letters

[truepenny]

Because this morning I find myself preparing to send two things out again--one a traditional ghost story, the other a vampire poem (I know, I know, I promise I'm ashamed of me, too--but I really like the damn poem). Both of which are looking at a long, arduous, uphill battle to find a market.

And there's a part of my mind that wants to know why I'm bothering. Why am I sending these things out when I know full well all I'm going to get in return is a slap in the face? Why am I doing this to my ego and my peace of mind?

One answer is: it's part of the business.

Another answer is: I'm too stubborn to know when to surrender.

A third answer is: if I don't submit them anywhere, then they will never be published.

And while I do, yes, write for myself (I have to, or I'd go stark barking mad with boredom and everything I wrote would be flat and dull and entirely unreadable), I also write because I have this insane egotistical idea that other people might like to read what I've written, that I might be able to give back some of the pleasure I've received over the years.

When you get down to the fundamental underpinnings of my psyche (turtles--turtles all the way down), I write because I love stories. Or, perhaps a little more accurately, because I am addicted to stories. And I know I'm not the only one. I consider myself incredibly fortunate that I can get paid for writing stories, but the brutal truth of the matter is I'd do it anyway. And I'd want people to read them anyway, because part of the whole idea of a story is that one person tells it and at least one other person listens. That's the point.

I'm getting very philosophical and should probably shut up now.

But I'm going to go submit these things and worry about the rejection letters when I get them.

Comments

[merriehaskell.livejournal.com]

No, I think you're on to something. I think that's why (and how) a lot of us do it (and think about it).

If we all said, "Oh, why am I bothering?"--well, then, we'd only ever get to read the fiction of the egomaniacs with delusions of grandeur. Not that that's necessarily bad fiction, but you know, it's limited.

[desayunoencama.livejournal.com]

Good luck with the submissions.

I think there are two basic philosophies about submitting, with differing levels of angst.

One is wanting to place what you've written somewhere, and while you may have a hierarchy of where you'd like it to be published, the important part (what brings closure) is getting it published.

So, if your vampire poem gets published in DREAMS OF DECADENCE or MYTHIC DELIRIUM instead of THE PARIS REVIEW or THE NEW YORKER, that's just fine.

If all you want is to publish, then you'd start by sending the piece out to DREAMS OF DECADENCE or MYTHIC DELIRIUM, because they're specifically looking for the kind of piece you've written. Your chances of an acceptance are therefore higher than they might be elsewhere.

The other kind of submission philosophy is wanting to be published in certain venues.

This is much trickier when it comes to general venues, especially depending on the kind of stuff one writes and the kind of editorial slant the venue has, and how well they match, and so many other factors.

If you're desire is to write something that, say, DOG FANCY would publish, then it's much easier to target specifically to that market. But if you're trying to sell to someplace like THE NEW YORKER or ASIMOV'S, where the selection criteria are less restricted, that's where the submission angst comes in.

I think one reason I write for anthologies so much more often than magazines is that you cut down on a lot of the angst; the editor(s) are looking for a certain kind of story/poem/essay within a certain time period. As long as being able to write that certain story/poem/essay is within what you can write, then your submission chances are much higher than with the magazines.

[vass]

One answer is: it's part of the business.
Another answer is: I'm too stubborn to know when to surrender.
A third answer is: if I don't submit them anywhere, then they will never be published.

Flawlessly logical.