First publications with Ninth Letter

I thought it would be interesting and maybe even useful if from time to time in this blog I highlighted a journal editor who's recently published new writers and poets, and to also include the insights of those writers/poets whose work first found the light of publication with that journal. So I have.

I figured I would start close to home with the unique and well-respected journal Ninth Letter, a collaborative arts and literary project produced by the Graduate Creative Writing Program and the School of Art & Design at the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign. Ninth Letter combines top-flight writing with way-outside-the-box design (some issues look more like the creative writing folk collaborated with U of I's School of Engineering -- it's that elaborately imaginative). Don't take my word for it. Here is a review of issue 7.2 by Sima Rabinowitz of NewPages.com.

Editor Jodee Stanley says, via email, that her number-one piece of advice for anyone wanting to publish in Ninth Letter is "don't oversell your work in a cover letter." And for new writers in particular she adds, "Don't try to cover up for that fact by summarizing or 'pitching' your work. Let your story, essay, or poetry speak for itself." 

Moreover, says Stanely, "It's a really good idea to read Ninth Letter (or any journal you are considering submitting to), just to see if our aesthetic fits with your own. If you read a few pieces in 9L and generally like what you see, chances are we have similar tastes to yours and will be more likely to be interested in your work."

Shes goes on, "If you don't really dig any of our stuff, though, you'll be better off submitting to other journals whose aesthetic runs closer to your own. That's not to say you need to write stuff that's exactly like what we've already published, though!"

Stanley emphasizes the need for perseverance: "Don't give up! Many, many writers appearing in our pages have submitted numerous times before hitting the mark with something."

Two previously unpublished writers who hit the mark in Ninth Letter are J. Nicholas Geist and Marianne Jay. Geist's essay "Completion" appeared in issue 6.1, and Jay's short story "Cherry Ripe" came out in issue 6.2.

Geist, via email, says that he had virtually no experience submitting his work prior to submitting his piece to Ninth Letter. "This was a piece that I'd put a lot of work into, and it was one of the few pieces at the time that I'd really felt was ready to submit," says Geist, who was an MFA student at California State University Fresno when he wrote "Completion." One of his teachers had cautioned him against sending out work prematurely: "The worst thing you can do as a writer is send out something that's less than your best, because if it does get published, then that mediocre piece will always be associated with your name -- and it may be what your reputation is based on."

Proud of his essay, Geist decided to send it to a journal that he "admired, with no real expectation of acceptance. That journal was Ninth Letter." He adds that he "love[s] the interplay between art and text.... They're open to new ideas, they like experimentation." Geist had also seen an essay on a similar topic to his in an earlier issue, and it encouraged him to think the editors may like his essay as well. 

Geist describes the "[g]reat, odd, troubling, anxiety-ridden, comforting, exciting, exhausting" process of having his piece accepted:

Maybe a month or so after submitting, I received a phone call from Steve Davenport, then editor of 9L, saying that their readers liked my piece, but because they'd recently run another (aforementioned) essay on the same topic, they didn't want to include my piece in their upcoming issue. But, he said, if the essay was still available he'd talk to Jodee Stanley, who would be taking over the relevant editorial duties for future issues, to see if she was interested in the piece as well. Yes please, I said. I got off the phone and my eyeballs exploded. This was one of the most anxiety-ridden periods of my writing career, such as it is -- the excitement that they liked my piece was at war with the panic that the other editor wouldn't. I don't know how long it was between the first phone call and the second, but if memory serves, it was something like forty or fifty years.

Obviously, Stanley wanted the piece, but they did delay publication for more than a year due to the similar essay they had recently run. "I was incredibly appreciative of the work that the 9L editorial staff put into making my piece work the way is was supposed to," says Geist.

Geist has since received plenty of rejections, including from Ninth Letter. "Publication is, I think, really all about finding the right fit. It usually feels like a pity dodge when you get a form letter saying 'It's not for us,' but it's entirely possible that every editor who read the piece absolutely loved it, but it really just didn't fit the magazine."

As far as advice, Geist believes he may be too selective with his submissions, but some selectivity is important: "We can't know every journal, but I feel like a lot of rejections probably could be avoided if we just payed a little more attention to where we're throwing manuscripts." Furthermore, he says to "love rejection" because it "means people are listening, people are reading your words, people are considering your work.... Rejection means you're in the game ... you're learning."

Marianne Jay received her MFA in poetry from University of Wisconsin-Madison, but took a fiction workshop her final semester that eventually led to her writing more fiction than poetry. She says, via email, that in the fall of 2008 she began sending out work and garnering rejections. Some of the rejection notices were encouraging, but, "[s]till, rejection is rejection. How do you not tell yourself, 'Not good enough' when you get an envelope, addressed in your own handwriting, which contains this news exactly?"

However, in April of the following year she finished writing "Cherry Ripe," which she thought "might be a good fit for Ninth Letter." A friend had wanted her to check out the unusual journal. "It was the first and only place I sent 'Cherry Ripe' and they accepted it within a month," she says.

Jay talks about what came after that joyful news:

But the story wouldn't be printed until the following winter, and whatever I'd been hoping for when I'd think, "If only someone would publish me ..." didn't happen. Writing was just as hard. The vulnerability of sending out work was just as hard. I still found myself at the mailbox, recognizing my handwriting, feeling wounded. And while it was great to see "Cherry Ripe" in print months later, in a lovely journal among work by such writers as Sherman Alexie and Benjamin Percy, I felt no transformation. What I did feel was a new thread of accountability. This publication came at a time when ... it was easy to retreat from the blank page into cozy self-doubt. But like the personal rejections, like the grad school experience, like the support of writing teachers from second grade through college, publishing a story told me that writing wasn't the most ridiculous thing I'd ever done, so I might as well keep it up.

Jay adds, "I wish I weren't so motivated by external validation and expectation; but I am."

Jay knows both sides of the mailbox, so to speak, as she's worked for a literary magazine for the past few years and has "read (and rejected) thousands of submissions." She says, "There are days when it seems that the most efficient thing would be to just mail myself rejection slips, rather than bother with sending out work at all. Most days, however, the piles of manuscripts are a reminder that writers write, and that I am in good company."

She says that she writes and sends out work "in spurts," but the more she writes, "the more I learn to write. Some pieces will be finished when they are published. Others will be finished when I grow bored of them, or embarrassed of them, or when I revise them into their best possible selves, have them rejected again and again, and eventually put in a drawer with old diaries."

For advice, Jay says to try to know where you're submitting your work: "Know the magazine and want to be a part of it." Moreover, "Life is short. Go ahead and simultaneously submit." And, if possible, "[M]arry my husband. If he's not available, find someone else who supports what you do, challenges you to do it better, and who brings you a full mug of coffee even when he knows you will probably only get through half."

tedmorrissey.com

Men of Winter

Some interesting outlets to consider

Taking advantage of Duotrope's Digest's weekly email update, I thought I'd highlight a few outlets that look especially promising for newer voices.

Here's a fledgling market to consider, especially if you're female: Adanna, "a journal for women, by women." Its homepage clarifies, however, that the journal is "dedicated to women ... [but] is not exclusive," meaning that men may submit material as long as it "reflect[s] women's issues or topics, celebrate[s] womanhood, and shout[s] out in passion." The online journal wants email submissions by April 31 for its debut issue, guest edited by Diane Lockward. Visit Adanna's homepage for complete submission details.

Here's another fledgling market that looks intriguing: Curbside Splendor, which publishes literary fiction and poetry "based on contemporary urban (and sometimes sub-urban) settings," according to their About Us page. Besides publishing work on a weekly basis on their website, the editors also publish a print journal, and from time to time chapbooks and novels. Their first issue is on sale here.

Write Right On is another fledgling online journal, but this one is based outside of the United States in Lebanon. The editors describe themselves as "a small writer's group involved with an Art space which is full of creative artists," and their mission is to "promote literacy in [their] community and the surrounding areas." They have very open guidelines, as long as the submission is under 5,000 words. Check out their current edition.

I thought I'd conclude with something a bit different: Pseudopod, "the world's premier horror podcast." Its homepage goes on to say that it "brings you the best short horror in audio form, to take with you anywhere." As one might imagine given the unique focus and format of the journal, the editors' submission guidelines are detailed, but well worth looking into if you write horror and would like to hear it via their "talented performers."

This is just a small sampling of the wonderful opportunities out there for publication. Check out Duotrope's Digest, but also my other favorite sources for outlets.

tedmorrissey.com

Men of Winter

Some tips on keeping track of your submissions

In the last several posts I've been focusing mainly on how to find outlets for your prose and poetry and highlighting some specific venues. As such, it seems an appropriate time (maybe even overdue) to discuss the important nuts-and-bolts topic of keeping track of those submissions. Even if one isn't able to claim writing as his/her profession, being professional is paramount, and keeping close track of where you've sent your work, how you've sent it, what the editors have said about it, etc. is an integral part of being a serious fiction writer, poet, and creative essayist. And by the same token, I believe, it's an integral part of your being taken seriously by the editors, publishers and agents you contact.

(Note to self: I just used the term "creative essayist," and in a future post it may be worth exploring the topic of creative nonfiction, which by most accounts is a burgeoning field within the broad spectrum of creative writing -- yet there seems to be a broad spectrum of interpretations as to what "creative nonfiction" is and what it isn't. My recent sojourn to the Louisville Conference on Literature and Culture Since 1900 confirmed that creative nonfiction is increasing in popularity [to write, to publish and (one hopes) to read] but its definition is, well, indefinite.)

Back to the matter at hand: keeping track of one's submissions. I imagine it's only common sense that writers or poets should know where they've sent their stuff and what's happened to it -- but let's be honest: creative types are right-brainers, and matters of organization may not be their strongest suit. Recall walking down the English department's hallway at your university and peeking in English professors' offices ... right, enough said.

At the most basic level, it's useful to keep track of your submissions so that you don't submit a piece to the same journal or publisher twice, maybe after it's already been rejected, or while it's under review; or you submit another piece to that same journal/publisher while they're still reviewing a previous submission -- such confused contacting may be enough to make them reject your work as a matter of principle if it's been teetering on the brink of acceptance amongst editorial board members. I want to talk about other benefits of good recordkeeping, but I'll save that for later, as I'm going over some fundamental information you'll want to keep track of.

One can keep track of submissions in a very low-tech way. I used to keep a three-ring binder with all my stories and so forth in it, and on top of each piece I had a photocopied cover form that I'd developed. When I sent a piece out, I'd get out the binder and jot down the information, and as I'd receive responses (almost always a rejection) I'd go to the binder and note the correspondence. It actually worked quite well -- as long as I remembered to jot down the goings and comings, which I did pretty religiously. At a glance, literally, I could see where I'd submitted a piece, how long the editors considered it, and so on. 

A couple of years ago, however, I got more high-tech and started using an Excel spreadsheet to keep track of everything. It's pretty basic, as far as spreadsheets go, and I'm sure someone with a more sophisticated knowledge of using Excel (say, a sixth-grader) could figure out ways of improving my basic system, which is in essence an electronic version of my old-school three-ring binder approach.

Here are the kinds of information you'll want to include -- all in the form of different columns on your spreadsheet -- and some options that could make things even more useful. Keep in mind that these are suggestions, and you'll probably see ways of modifying them to match your own recordkeeping sensibilities; to which I say, modify at will.

Column A: The title of your piece. I'm a prose writer (used to write poetry and am getting the itch again, but that's another story ... or poem?), and I don't differentiate between the title of a short story and the title of a novel. I suppose that sophisticated sixth-grader could easily insert a formula to count the number of times you've submitted a particular piece, but I never bothered with inserting formulae of any sort. Things may be slightly more complicated for poets, who tend to submit several poems to an editor in a batch, but my way of thinking says to go ahead and list each poem separately (that is, in a different cell in column A), even though it's a bit of a pain at first. Excel, of course, will recall the information, and as soon as you begin to type that title again, it'll automatically fill in the cell for you ... the wonders of technology.

Column B: The date that you sent the piece. In my old binder I used to follow this column with a "perusal time" column, meaning the length of time the editor/publisher claimed they'd have your piece before getting back to you; but I left that column out of my Excel method for maybe two reasons: I'm not one to pester editors, even if they say it's all right in their guidelines. Having worked as a literary journal editor off and on for ten years, I know word will be received, for better or for ill, in its own good time, and there's nothing productive that comes from being a proverbial squeaky wheel. Also, that "perusal time" column made me overly hawkish -- that is, as the specified weeks or months would near, then, often, recede, I'd be unduly focused on (unduly watchful about) receiving a response. I could drive myself a little batty over it, to be honest. I've decided it's better to direct that nervous energy into my writing and revising, and into contacting more and more potential outlets. No matter how intensely one watches one's mailbox or email inbox, it doesn't expedite the appearance of notification.

Column C: Name of the journal or publisher that received your submission. One of the reasons this information is especially important is that you don't want to keep submitting to a place while it's already reading your work, especially if it's the work you want to accidentally submit again. If you're submitting pieces as vigorously as you need to, it's easy to lose track of where you sent a piece, and Excel is Excel-lent (see what I did there?) at helping you to avoid the publishing faux pas of sending the same piece to the same editor, especially if he or she has already declined it. A quick search of your spreadsheet for the journal's or publisher's name will tell you if you've contacted them before and what you've sent them. I've gotten in the habit of doing this search before submitting, and it's saved me more than once from blundering.

Column D: Method of contact. In an earlier post I discussed the three basic ways that one goes about contacting editors these days, and in this column you should record the specific method. If it's old-fashioned snail mail (i.e., postal mail), I'd include the exact mailing address here. If it's via email, include the email address in this cell (often times, there are various emails available and it's usually clear which one you should send to, but not always, so it's handy to be able to retrieve specifically who/what you contacted; of course, searching your "sent mail" folder can generally yield the same results, unless you've done as your network administrator prefers, and you've cleaned out your folders with regularity). If you find yourself in the pleasant position of having to withdraw your submission because it's been accepted elsewhere, having the specific email address in your spreadsheet will be extremely useful -- trust me. If the journal/publisher had you use an electronic portal (like Submishmash), I'd recommend copying the portal link into the cell. Recording the specific way you contacted the journal, etc., has all sorts of useful purposes later (like withdrawing an accepted piece).

(Note that these online submission services, like Submishmash, have recordkeeping functions, and may eventually replace the need for writers using their own methods -- but we're not quite there yet, and keeping track in the meantime is vital. In fact, the fast-changing technologies make accurate recordkeeping even more vital.)

Column E: Special information, like money you may have paid to submit your work. Some journals require a reading or submission fee (generally pretty nominal, like two or three bucks), and contests of course require fees (a little more than a typical reading fee, like ten to 25 bucks, depending). You can also record here if you paid electronically, via PayPal, for example, or sent a check (quaint, I know, but it's still a possibility), in which case recording the check number is worthwhile. You could also include here (or another column) if you're supposed to receive something for your money, like a subscription to the journal, or the winning entry in a contest (that is, the chapbook or what have you that was published as a result of the contest). One of those handy formulae that I never use could generate how much money you've paid out for your writing (nice for tax purposes perhaps).

Column F: Date of notification. Record here when you hear from the journal or publisher.

Column G: Result of notification, which is generally either (commonly) "rejected" or (joyously) "accepted." I write accepted in all caps and in red: ACCEPTED. For one thing I just like to look back through the spreadsheet and see those beautiful acceptances jump out at me -- it makes up, psychologically, for the dozens upon dozens of times I've recorded "rejected."

Column H: Comments. Sometimes the editor will reject you but give you some encouragement to submit again, which isn't as terrific as being accepted, but it beats the socks off of a coldly delivered rejection. Besides helping to balm the wounds of rejection, such an editorial note is very, very helpful when trying to figure out where to send new material. (Be sure to note in your cover letter or accompanying comments that you received this encouragement, and thank them for it -- editing a little journal or small press is a mostly thankless job, so any sort of thank-you is much appreciated.) Sometimes, though, you have a less-than-stellar experience with a journal or press, and it's worth recording here what went wrong from your perspective (like "took two years to respond" or "apologized for accidentally dropping my manuscript behind a filing cabinet ... in 1998" or "never sent journal I subscribed to").

Those are the basics: what you sent, when, where, what they said, when they said it. You can tailor your records to your own needs and interests, but I can't overstress the importance of good recordkeeping. It may seem like a pain in the neck, but once you set it up, it doesn't take that much time to record the data. This final point is very important, however -- VERY IMPORTANT: Constantly back up your recordkeeping spreadsheet. I've gotten in the habit of sending myself an email attachment whenever I work on my writing and whenever I update my spreadsheet information. You can of course use a flashdrive, and there are other online back-up options. Use several methods. Losing this submission information in part or in whole would be a tragedy. Again, using a spreadsheet may become obsolete in the near future, but we're not there just yet.

Keep writing, keep submitting -- keep keeping good track.

tedmorrissey.com

Men of Winter

Some picks worth perusing

Nothing too fancy this time (or any other time for that matter) -- just some journals that seem like they're well worth looking into for the un- and underpublished writer (which of course is just about all of us except Nora Roberts and James Patterson ... using the term "writer" pretty loosely here). These are by and large newer markets that sound especially open to new and emerging writers.

Fiction writers will want to take a look at Flywheel Magazine, whose editors "crave stories ... [even] the story the other magazine didn't want." See their submissions page for an exuberant narrative regarding what they're looking for (and not looking for); and for specific guidelines see their Submishmash page.

Here's an unusual journal, The Post Script, whose debut issue is due out soon. According to its homepage, it's "dedicated to preserving the art of the post card." Because of the journal's unique mission, its submission guidelines are nontraditional. They do both themed and general interest issues.

Genre writers, or writers whose work incorporates genre elements, will want to take a look at Pulp Carnivale, "an alternative short fiction site that follows in the tradition of the pulp magazines ... a space for authors to gain exposure and for audiences to discover quality new fiction without a lot of noise to sift through," according to their "about us" page.

Here's another fledgling journal to consider, for both prose writers and poets: StepAway Magazine -- "publishing the best urban flash fiction and poetry by writers from across the globe," says their submissions page. They are "hungry for literature that evokes the sensory experience of walking in specific neighborhoods, districts or zones within a city." The editors cite the Frank O'Hara poem "A Step away from Them" as the inspiration for their title.

I'll end with a more traditional suggestion: Artifice Magazine, which is "devoted to fiction and poetry aware of its own artifice," according to its "about the magazine" page. See Artifice Magazine's submissions page for further details.

Incidentally, I didn't have to go far for these suggestions as they're all included in my weekly email from Duotrope's Digest, one of my favorite sources for finding outlets.

tedmorrissey.com

Men of Winter

The benefits of writing conferences

Writing conferences, it seems to me, can be useful to new writers and poets for three distinct reasons. A writing conference, by the way, is as the term pretty much implies -- a gathering of creative writers (some veteran, some emerging, some new) who explore a variety of topics, in a concentrated way, for a day or two, though sometimes longer. Not all writing conferences are cut from the same cloth, of course. They have their unique foci, and their components and participants vary. But by and large writers and poets attending such conferences can benefit by, first, improving their writing; networking with other creative writers, editors, and publishers; and, in general, becoming more aware of the publishing world and its varied workings.

Writing conferences tend to be organized by three different (though sometimes overlapping) groups. Journals and small-press publishers put on conferences, as do universities with creative writing majors and MFA programs, and independent writing groups will often organize writing conferences. I suppose there are myriad benefits that these groups gain by hosting conferences -- including intangibles like bolstering the vibrancy of the creative arts in our global culture -- but tangible benefits include money and exposure. Organizers charge fees, and, depending on the organizer, they hope to attract new readers, contributors, and students.

Regarding the first benefit I listed for participants, writing conferences will have workshops, led by distinguished writers and poets (usually) who will attempt to improve the craft of those participating. These workshops may operate in all sorts of different ways. Sometimes participants are asked to bring a sample of their work (or send it ahead of time) to be critiqued; other times, participants compose on site, and then share their work with each other and the workshop leader(s). Or a thousand variations and related variations thereof.

It remains to be seen how much help one may be able to gain from such limited exposure (only a few hours, perhaps over several days, in most cases), but many writers and poets find themselves creating their work in isolation, with no one of value to give them any feedback on their work whatsoever, so for these lone wolves any sort of meaningful feedback can be well worth the cost of the conference. Unless you're living in a university town, so called, it may be difficult to connect with well-published authors who can give you constructive criticism and invaluable words of encouragement.

Another benefit to participants can be the chance to network with other writers, not to mention editors and publishers. On the one hand, it seems there are a lot of us writerly types in the world, but statistically we're still a pretty small slice of humanity. As such, we may not have the opportunity to interact with others who feel the need, even a sort of urgency, to write creatively, and being around others who feel this same sort of desire can be a great boon to the soul. Nowadays, online networking sites, chiefly Twitter and Facebook, allow writerly types to connect on some level, but it's a pretty superficial level compared to sitting down with someone in the actual world and chatting about things associated with creative writing -- hopes and fears, accolades and rejections, craft and mechanics.

Besides the soul-nourishing aspect of networking with other writers and poets (which is important to be sure), there is the practical benefit of connecting with others who may be able to advance your writing/publishing ambitions. I mentioned earlier that conferences often feature workshops that critique your work. In some instances, the critique is also a competition, and winning entrants are published by organizers of the conference. In other instances, publication (or some other sort of worthwhile advancement) occurs naturally. That is, somebody encounters you and your work and decides to publish you, or help you in some other way. It happens; it really does. And it may not happen immediately -- it may be a year or two or five later, when the vicissitudes of writing/publishing reconnect you with somebody you met via a conference.

Finally, conference participants benefit by just learning the ropes, as it were, of the writing/publishing world. You find out about publishing opportunities you weren't aware of before, for example. Or you learn about some trend in using social media to find outlets for your work or to draw attention to what's already been published. It's of course impossible to say what all you might learn by attending a writing conference. Writing and publishing are complex endeavors, and constant changes brought about by evolving technologies only add to the complexity. Conferences are sites of concentrated knowledge and experience, and the open-eared participant can absorb much.

I have mentioned NewPages.com in several posts already, and I find myself doing so again as the site has a writing conferences page organized by date and by location. Quite simply, it is invaluable for someone who is actively seeking a valuable conference. In addition to state by state listings, they also have links to Canadian conferences, international ones, and even online conferences. I would list a few conferences, but the truth is they are so numerous, and the individual writer/poet's interests are so varied, there isn't much point in shining a light on a handful more or less at random. You just need to check out the site and see what's available. Obviously not every single conference is listed at NewPages.com, as good as it is, so a general search via engines like Google or Bing may yield worthwhile results as well.

In any event, the new writer or poet may want to at least consider attending a writing conference. It could be a life-changing (creative life, at least) event.

tedmorrissey.com

Men of Winter

Contests can be an excellent avenue to publication and recognition

Contests, especially those targeted at new writers and poets, are another option worth looking into for un- and underpublished authors. There almost always is a fee associated with the contest, which is how the publishing entity (usually a literary journal or small press) can afford to publish the winning entries, but it's money well spent: Obviously one is purchasing the chance to have an entire manuscript published, win a monetary prize, and gain the publicity; but even if you don't win, you very well may place or show or receive an honorable mention -- which could get you noticed by another editor or agent who just might want to publish or work with you -- and almost always you get something back for your money, like a copy of the winning entry and/or a subscription to the journal. 

And, quite frankly, contests are a significant revenue source for many journals/small presses, without which they may not be able to publish at all, so at the most fundamental level you're supporting the literary community as a whole -- at a time when it sorely needs supporting.

Using NewPages.com (one of my favorite resources) and its book contests page, here are a few contests that seem to me especially attractive for the writer or poet looking for that first manuscript-length publication. Contests for poetry outnumber prose contests, but writers of fiction and creative nonfiction have good opportunities as well.

For poets, Tupelo Press' 12th Annual Award for First or Second Book of Poetry is a wonderful opportunity, as Tupelo Press is an excellent and well-respected small press. As its website reports, the contest is open to all poets who are looking to publish either their first or second full-length collection. In addition to publication and national distribution, the winning poet receives $3,000. Deadline for submission is April 15, and the fee is $25.

Also for poets, 42 Miles Press' Lester M. Wolfson Poetry Award also caught my eye as it is a new contest and therefore may not attract as many submissions as a more established one. In addition to book publication, the winning poet will receive $1,000, fifty copies of her/his book, and an invitation to read at Indiana University South Bend. Also of note is the fact that the editors are open to "experimental as well as work of a more formalist bent." Deadline for submission is March 1, and the fee is $25.

Permafrost literary journal sponsors contests for both poets and writers of fiction: The Midnight Sun Chapbook Contest, and the Midnight Sun Fiction Contest. The winning poet receives thirty copies of her/his chapbook and $100 (a chapbook is a stapled booklet), while the winning fiction writer receives $100 and publication in the journal -- all fiction entries are eligible for publication. Deadline is March 15, and the fee is $10.

Unpublished novelists will want to check out The 20th Annual James Jones First Novel Fellowship, sponsored by Wilkes University. In addition to novels in progress, "novellas and collections of closely linked short stories" are also eligible for consideration. The winner receives $10,000, and there are two runners-up who receive $750 each. Deadline is March 1, and the fee is $25.

Another notable contest is Black Lawrence Press' The Black River Chapbook Competition for either a collection of poems or short stories. Deadline is May 31, and the fee is $15. Black Lawrence Press has other contests as well, including book contests (in addition to the chapbook competition) for poets and short-story writers, and even a contest for novelists. Thus its website is well worth perusing.

Competitions for creative nonfiction writers exist, but at this time NewPages.com is not listing any with deadlines in the near future. And, of course, the contests listed here are just a small sampling. Go to NewPages.com for a wealth of information on upcoming competitions, especially if you're a poet.

tedmorrissey.com

Men of Winter

Appearing alongside more widely published writers is worth looking into

When you're just starting to circulate your work, there really isn't any such thing as a "bad" publishing credit, but when your story, poem or essay appears alongside that of more widely published authors, it's all the better of course. So for this post I want to look at some journals whose stated mission is to showcase new(er) writers/poets along with their better-known colleagues.

Looking in Duotrope's Digest (one of my favorite sources for finding outlets), this journal came to light: Contemporary World Literature, whose editors "publish well-known authors to beginners," according to their "About" page.  They write further, "Our goal is to publish those who are not mainstream authors, but we are also interested in mainstream." An added plus, for new writers especially, is that Contemporary World Literature is a fledgling market.

A similar market is The Adroit Journal, similar in that it is fledgling and its editors have an eye out for experienced as well as newer (also known as "emerging") writers and poets. They write, via their Submishmash site, "We love to publish emerging writers, but also experienced, established writers. Don't let us scare you out of submitting!" Adroit has an interesting background, founded by a fifteen-year-old who was "frustrated" with competing with more experienced authors for publishing space. Moreover, Adroit supports the charity Guiding Eyes for the Blind, based in New York.

Far from "fledgling," Southern Poetry Review is the second oldest poetry journal "in the region," according to its homepage. Their semi-annual publication "showcas[es] poems by leading poets as well as those writers we think will become leading poets." It's worth noting that well-established journals, like SPR, tend to take great pride in finding and publishing unpublished or underpublished writers and poets. Competition for space can be fierce, but if you're able to place a story or poem or creative essay it's an especially fetching feather in your publishing cap. Incidentally, I used another of my favorite resources for locating publishing outlets, NewPages.com, to find Southern Poetry Review, which was a featured listing under literary magazines.

These of course are just a microscopic fraction of the journals that are openly looking to publish new writers alongside more seasoned ones. A little research will quickly yield a lengthy list of potential markets.

tedmorrissey.com

Men of Winter