Submishmash seems to be leading the submission race

In an earlier post, I wrote about the various ways that writers and poets can submit their work to editors and publishers -- via email, an online portal, or snail mail -- and it remains true, but even though it's only been a few months since that post the submission landscape has changed appreciably. I completed a novel in June, after five years of working on it, and I began writing a series of short stories. As such, I've been quite active in the last few months in terms of contacting publishers (regarding the novel) and editors (regarding the stories). Based on my experience, it seems that more and more people are utilizing the submission service known as Submishmash. There are others, including Tell It Slant, but far and away Submishmash is leading the pack.

In fact, Submishmash now calls itself the number-one submission management tool, used by over 2,000 publishers and universities, according to its website. It's hardly scientific, but since the first part of July, I've contacted 84 editors, including publishers about my novel, and 25 (or nearly 30 percent) have used Submishmash. Two have used Tell It Slant (about 2 percent), and seventeen have used some other online portal system (just over 20 percent). Of course, email continues to be an option, but my sense is that the majority of editors/publishers who were already attracted to electronic submissions have moved to a service like Submishmash, if not Submishmash itself. Of that 84, only seven were email contacts, or about 8 percent. I mentioned in my post regarding writers' guidelines that perhaps email submissions required the most care in that journals/publishing houses tended to have very specific -- and idiosyncratic -- instructions about how to prepare your submission. I imagine that those e-submission enthusiasts prefer the simplicity a service like Submishmash offers.

A few journals still prefer snail-mail submissions, perhaps believing that it keeps the number of submissions manageable. And along with the rise in submission service use, like Tell It Slant and Submishmash, there's been a rise, from my perspective, in journals that require a nominal reading fee (usually $2 or $3). This may be an opportune time for me to acknowledge that the unscientific statistics that I used in the previous paragraph were undoubtedly skewed by the fact that I'm increasingly attracted to journals who use online submission managers. I cannot put a number to it, but I know in my perusals for outlets for my new novel and newly written stories that I passed up a few possible contacts because they were requiring snail-mail or email submissions, and at that moment I didn't have the patience or ambition to pursue them. By the same token, I passed up a handful that required a reading fee. Now, however, I've become comfortable using PayPal to dole out the two or three bucks, so I'm more inclined today than I was even a couple of months ago to pay the reading fee.

There is some debate in publishing circles about the ethics of charging a reading fee, and tied into that debate is whether or not a reading fee suppresses the number (and hence overall quality) of submissions. I'm sure that some editors/publishers, especially those over the age of, say, 25, are disinclined toward the fee because in the "old days" only disreputable journals charged a reading fee. Professional and serious outlets would never lower themselves to charge a fee -- which no doubt led to the creation of so many writing contests, as it was seen as more noble to charge $15 to enter a contest (which in various ways was returned to the winners and entrants) than to charge everyone a couple of dollars, almost none of which would be returned to the writers and poets, in terms of a subscription or sample copy, etc.

The journal I read for, Quiddity, has recently switched to using Submishmash (from snail mail); and I find it quite handy. I receive an email from one of the editors letting me know there are submissions for me to read. My account is the same for both my Quiddity reading and for my own submissions to journals/publishers which use Submishmash. As a  reader, I simply log in, click QUIDDITY, then click on a story (I'm only reading prose), and it pops up on the screen. I generally increase its magnification a couple of times to make it exceptionally easy to read, and when I've reached a decision I either click the thumb-up or thumb-down icon (there's a maybe option, but as a group we decided even before Submishmash that maybes are virtually useless -- it's yes or no, or get off the pot).

There's also an option of adding a comment to the submission, which I don't bother with either. If I read something wonderful and I fear that Quiddity may lose it if we don't act promptly, I'll email or text the appropriate editor and alert her or him that we have a live one we may want to act on as soon as possible.

Just a couple of side notes regarding using Submishmash: I was having trouble at first receiving email notifications from the editors that I had something to read, so I contacted Submishmash support and received a response literally within the hour (it turned out to be a minor technical glitch that was immediately cleared up) -- and this was on a Saturday morning. Even though using Submishmash as a reader is handy, I do sort of miss having to haunt the campus, where I only teach part-time, to pick up fresh or drop off read submissions, and likely running into one of the editors or interns in the Q office. And in addition to the human contact, I miss the feel of the submissions, the bulk and smell of them, and the knowledge that the actual writer who composed the piece physically handled the material and signed the cover letter. I liked looking at the signature to see what it may imply about the author.

Would I want to go back to snail mail? Probably not, but one does lose something of the experience by going to electronic submissions. And based on the trend I'm seeing as a writer, it's full steam ahead for e-submissions, with Submishmash in particular leading the field.

tedmorrissey.com
Men of Winter

Markets opening with the arrival of the academic year

With August's august arrival, markets for fiction, poetry and creative nonfiction have begun to open in earnest. And this trend will continue into September. Because so many literary journals and small presses are affiliated with university writing programs, and hence edited and staffed by faculty and graduate students, the vast majority go on hiatus during the summer, closing submissions; but return, with renewed vigor, with the arrival of the academic year.


As I've often said in this blog, Duotrope's Digest and NewPages.com are excellent sources for keeping tack of the markets (who's accepting submissions, what contests are open, etc.). In previous postings I've talked about things like how to search for markets, how to keep track of your submissions, and how to decipher submission guidelines -- please see the sidebar of this blog for older posts on these and other topics.


Since now is the time that writers and poets begin submitting material with zeal (as an editor and reader for lit journals, I visualize this time of year something like unlocking the doors of Best Buy on Black Friday), it's worth keeping some things in mind -- and here are the things I have on my mind:


Writers' guidelines: I've talked before about how important it is for writers/poets to read carefully and follow the submission guidelines that journals and presses provide via their websites. See this posting on guidelines. It's worth noting that guidelines frequently change, so even if you thoroughly read a journal's guidelines last year (or last week), don't assume they're the same now. For one thing, because many journals and presses change editors every year, often times the new editorial board makes some changes as well. The new editors may revise the focus or mission of the journal (old editors can do this too of course). 


They may shift the kinds and/or lengths of material they're willing to consider. The way that editors are receiving submissions is constantly changing too. More and more are going to some sort of submission portal -- Submishmash is increasingly popular, for example. The journal I read for, Quiddity, is moving to using Submishmash this fall. Even if they're not going with Submishmash, many editors are trying to be greener and therefore using another online portal or encouraging email submissions. I've noticed that the journals using emailed submissions seem less wary of attachments than journals tended to be just a couple of years ago. That is, it used to be that with email submissions, the vast majority wanted the story or poem, etc., to be pasted into the text of the email message, fearful that attachments would introduce viruses into their computers and networks; now, however, I'm not seeing as many prohibitions of attachments. Perhaps with applications like Google docs and more sophisticated virus-scanning software, editors are less concerned about contracting a bug.


See my post on various ways to submit your work.


With the uptick in editors' employing Submishmash, reading fees have also become more prevalent. It used to be that reading fees (that is, charging writers and poets a couple of bucks just to read their work) were considered rather gauche -- the sign of an outlet that wasn't especially professional or legitimate even. Instead, serious journals and presses would only charge fees to enter contests (and generally if you paid the contest fee, you'd at least get a subscription to the journal or a copy of the anthology produced with the collection of the fees). Contests and their fees still exist of course, but nowadays -- thanks to especially harsh economic climates, combined with dwindling readerships and the ease of commercial trafficking on the web via PayPal and so forth -- increasing numbers of editors are asking contributors to pay $2 or $3 to submit their work. 


The rationale tends to be that writers and poets are not having to use their paper and toner, and they're not having to pay for envelopes and postage, as in the old days, so it's not unreasonable to ask for some monetary support via a reading fee. I agree with this policy by and large -- though as a writer I do feel the hassle when I'm submitting work and have to stop to get out my credit card, and so on. Moreover, if every outlet were to go this route, of charging a nominal fee, it would definitely affect how writers and poets circulate their work. I for one wouldn't submit to twenty journals in one sitting if I had to pay $2 or $3 a pop, that is $40 to $60.


So while online submission portals like Submishmash tend to exponentially increase submissions to a journal or press, adding a reading fee will most likely counterbalance, to some degree, the number of submissions, thus keeping them somewhat in check. It's important to keep in mind what that fee is used for. Yes, many journals are still in a print format, and the fee helps pay for printing costs, but even if a journal is totally online (or employs a print-on-demand component, like via lulu.com), those fees are used to promote creative writing in other ways. Journals and presses will sponsor local programs, and they'll invite published writers and poets to give readings to promote their work and to promote the arts in general in their communities.


And while I, living near Springfield, Illinois, may not be able to attend a literary event in, say, Wichita, Kansas, that was made possible, in part, thanks to my two dollars, presumably I will be able to go to a local event that is supported by some Jayhawk's hard-earned cash. It's the Great Circle of literary life. That is to say, don't think of it as throwing your money out the window to pay a reading fee: You're supporting the creative arts in general, and that's always a good thing.


One last thing (for now): With the opening of markets and the fervor for submitting your work that it brings, don't forget the importance of keeping good track of your activities, including the paying of those reading and contest fees. As I've said, developments in online management systems may make using spreadsheet programs, like Excel, obsolete, but we're not there quite yet, at least as far as I'm concerned. See my post on keeping track of your submissions.


Let the submissions begin. . . .


tedmorrissey.com

Men of Winter

Three new journals planning fall launches

In my last post I talked about the fact that summer offers fewer publishing opportunities for writers and poets but "fewer" isn't none -- so I wanted to call your attention to some editors/publishers who are currently reading for their inaugural issues, all found courtesy of Duotrope's Digest's email newsletter.

Orange Quarterly caught my eye. It's a brand-new online market "showcas[ing] both emerging and established artists and writers from around the globe." Founded by Allison Leigh Peters, OQ is currently accepting work for their debut issue, which is scheduled to launch this Halloween night just before the clock strikes midnight. As a drama-building tool, the site has a countdown-to-launch clock. The editors are accepting work via email, and as such there are quite a few do's and don't's, so read their submission guidelines carefully. Prose writers should note that they'll read work up to 7,500 words, which is more than many journals are interested in considering. I must say I like the look of OQ's site; it appears professionally constructed and well thought out. In short, it looks to me like an online journal put together by folks who know what they're doing (even though it doesn't appear that any of the "OQ crew" will be applying for their AARP card anytime soon).

Whether you submit or not, Orange Quarterly will be a journal worth keeping track of as the editors get their first issues out into the cyberworld.

Here's another interesting-looking online journal in its embryonic stage: Specter Literary Magazine (also featuring a countdown-to-launch clock -- maybe that's a new trend).  SLM's editors have a somewhat narrower focus than Orange Quarterly's in that they want poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction with "themes rooted in the generation of the 1980s and forward from a multi-cultural/multi-sexual perspective." That sounds intriguing but to be honest I'm not 100 percent sure what it means, and in fact I'm not even certain who "the generation of the 1980s" is.  The editors' guidelines offer some clarifications, and, as you'll see, they're taking work via Submishmash. SLM's blog has links to additional information, like the journal's masthead.

The editors are eager to see your work regardless of background (publishing or otherwise), so check out Specter Literary Magazine. It will be interesting to see how their focus manifests itself once it begins to publish in (let me check) about three months.

Speaking of interesting-looking online journals in their embryonic stage, here's another: S/WORD. Founded by husband and wife Seth and Chelsea McKelvey, S/WORD (which can be pronounced a multitude of ways) has a very, well, philosophical mission regarding text and reader interpretation. Trying to paraphrase it wouldn't do it justice, so please read the editors' about page  -- but it seems to me an important distinction of their journal is that, at the risk of oversimplifying, the editors are interested (even) in pieces that are not necessarily "finished" but are clearly still forming in the author's mind.

S/WORD, too, is accepting work via email. The editors want to see poetry and prose, but they also want to hear about creative work that doesn't quite fit into either of those pigeon holes, which is interesting. See their submission guidelines. S/WORD's site has a sort of New Age feel, but it's visually engaging and easy to maneuver within.

These are just three publishing possibilities. Check out Duotrope's Digest and NewPages for even more opportunities.

tedmorrissey.com

Men of Winter

Yes, Summer Is a Quiet Time, But It Still Has a Pulse

For writers and poets eager to get their work into print, summertime can be a bit frustrating in that the vast majority of literary journals are directly or indirectly affiliated with colleges and universities; and thus their staffs take a break from reading (and also from the mundane bureaucracy of keeping track of incoming submissions) in the summer. However, "vast majority" is not "all," and there are journals that read during the quiet months of June, July and August. It just requires a bit more effort to find places to submit. In an earlier post, I talked said that when I became serious about getting my work into print, I vowed to make a minimum of six contacts per week. I managed to meet that number in the summer months, but it did require additional research.

When you start looking at submission guidelines, you discover that there are essentially two sorts of places that accept submissions in the summer: those that claim to actually read them (some of whom acknowledge that response times are slower in the summer), and those that accept submissions but say upfront that the submissions won't be read until the academic year commences. As I've said previously in this blog, it's important to read submission guidelines carefully, as there's no point in sending work to journal editors who say they don't want summer submissions; and by the same token, if you're truly "eager" to get work in print, you may want to think carefully before submitting to a journal that acknowledges its slow response time in the summer, or one that tells you your submission, while accepted, won't be read until fall.

By the way, it's worth mentioning that "summer" is a bit hazy (ha) -- meaning that the front- and tail-ends of reading periods tend to vary greatly. That is, one journal may stop reading at the end of April, another the end of May, another part way into June; and a journal may start reading again August 1, another September 1, or perhaps September 15 or later. So, again, read guidelines carefully.

A quick perusal of Duotrope's Digest's weekly email bulletin can give one a sense of the summertime submissions landscape. The bulletins list markets that have been added, ones that have opened or reopened to submissions, ones that have closed, and ones that seem to have dissolved or at least gone on indefinite hiatus. Here are some highlights from the most recent bulletin (this one tailored for fiction writers).

A Few Lines appears to be reading in the summer, and their editorial board "actively seeks emerging young writers."

Paper Nautilus reads year-round, but warns that their response time is slowest October through January (so this may be a good bet for the truly eager).

Stoked Press, which seeks a variety of types of work and which publishes them in a variety of print and electronic formats, appears to read year-round as well.

Caper Literary Journal reopened to submissions May 25. Caper, like Stoked Press, is looking to publish all kinds of creative material via all kinds of formats.

Also recently reopened to submissions is Knockout literary magazine. Note that its editors are "primarily looking for poetry," but they also want to see shorter prose pieces as well. They also emphasize that they are "as GLBT-friendly as ever."

These journals listed here tend to be start-up -- and up-start -- journals, and there's nothing wrong with that. Some writers/poets are mainly interested in more established (perhaps traditional) journals, and these sorts of summertime submission opportunities are more rare, but they do exist. A good source to begin one's search for the more established who may be reading in the summer is the Council of Literary Magazines and Presses (CLMP) database of members.

American Short Fiction, a highly respected journal, is open for submissions.

Granta reads year-found, but like all the well-established and well-respected journals, competition is, let's say, fierce.

Quiddity, a print journal that I helped found and now still read for, accepts submissions year-round.

Again, those more traditional/established possibilities exist, but it takes a bit of digging sometimes to unearth them.

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

The cover letter -- a sample and some personal preferences

When you snail mail a submission to a journal, it's standard practice to include a brief cover letter. Some journals claim they don't want one at all; others make it optional; but most at least expect it, or even encourage it. Even if you're submitting electronically -- via email or a site's submission portal -- you'll probably supply cover-letter-esque information, commonly in the body of the email, or in the comments window of the submission portal form. There's no definite right and wrong when it comes to what to include in these accompanying bits of information, but here are some suggestions, including my personal preferences.

First, though, I'm discovering that young folks are losing the hang of letter writing. They text and email and increasingly when they apply to a school or for a job or scholarship, there's an online form into which they simply input the requested information. In short, they aren't required to write letters on a regular basis. I recently invited my 18-year-old students to submit a letter expressing interest in a scholarship opportunity in order to be considered a candidate, and not one of the seven respondents actually wrote a letter; in fact, they seemed rather nonplussed as to what a letter should even look like. Therefore, briefly, here's a typical format for a business-style letter:

Ted Morrissey

1111 My Street

My City, IL 65555

11 January 2011

Samantha Jones, editor
Great Lit Journal
Great University
Great University Town, NY 11111

Dear Dr. Jones [I usually research the editor online to see if he/she holds a doctorate or not so that I can address the editor appropriately; if the information is unavailable, perhaps simply Editor Jones.]

Enclosed for your consideration is my short story "A Great Read" (2,000 words).

My fiction has appeared in a few journals, including The Cat Review, The Dog Review, and The Goldfish Review. I hold an MFA in fiction writing from East Coast University, and I teach English at Terrific Liberal Arts College.

Thank you for considering my story. This is a simultaneous submission.

Respectfully.


Ted Morrissey [leaving space above the name for my signature]

If you're including information in an email or in the comments window of an online submission portal, you may not follow the formal style of the cover letter, but the basic information will be the same. Here are some points to consider:

Writers tend to believe their work will be more attractive to an editor if they can supply some sort of credentials. These credentials usually come in the form of previous publications, but alas you may not have any meaningful publications. In lieu of meaningful publication credits (I acknowledge that "meaningful" is a nebulous term), writers may be tempted to fill in that space with, what I consider, dubious information. For example, they may mention publication credits that are, well, less than impressive (like very small circulation newsletters, or good showings in contests that only attract a few participants). I would say, though, if all you can offer is a less-than-impressive credit, don't mention it at all.

Another thing I often see from writers who are still looking for their first legitimate credit is to mention fairly well known teachers or mentors who like their work. My sense, however, is that namedropping doesn't work very well. It tends to cast you in a secondary role, as student or groupie, and therefore doesn't carry much clout with an editor.

Instead, just be honest and make it clear that you haven't been published yet. Editors love to publish somebody for the first time -- it's like discovering the next supermodel carhopping at the local Sonic. So you're more attractive as a "virgin" writer or poet who can be discovered by an insightful editor, than you are as someone who's so desperate to appear worthy that you include unimpressive credentials with your submission.

Check the writers' guidelines to see if the editors have said anything about what they want in the cover letter or accompanying information. Some want only the basics. Others want you to provide a third-person biographical statement that they can use in their contributors' notes if your piece is published. Some encourage a sort of chatty letter in which you talk about your interests beyond writing.

As an editor receiving submissions, I always preferred a cover letter that was professionally presented but also casual in tone -- from someone who takes his or her work seriously, but not him- or herself; that is, someone who sounds like it'd be fun to talk to over a cup of coffee, about books or writing or fly-fishing.

Whatever you decide to include in your cover letter (or cover-letter-like material), be sure to proofread it carefully. Many editors purposely read the accompanying material after they read the story, essay, or poem itself, as they don't want their reaction to the submission to be colored, positively or negatively, by the cover letter. But others do read the cover letter first, and therefore are influenced by it -- so a poorly written cover letter, with typos or incorrect information, could put your story or poem in a bit of a hole before the editor ever starts reading it.

Be professional; be respectful; be appreciative.

tedmorrissey.com
Men of Winter

Three basic ways to submit your work to editors

The methods one uses to actually get one's prose and poetry into the hands (or at least eyes) of a potential publisher are evolving constantly, but it's safe to say there are three basic ways to send off your work: old-fashioned mail (a.k.a. "snail mail"), email, and (increasingly) a publisher's internal electronic portal -- and each journal has its preference(s). There are myriad variations within each of these three basic methods (and over time I'll talk about many of these varied points), but for now I'll stick to the essential or most common features of each.

Old-fashioned mail: This approach, relying on a postal service, has been the way writers and editors have connected for hundreds of years, and for most of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries anyway the approach has involved three components: 1) the manuscript itself (i.e., the prose or poetry piece), including a brief cover letter, 2) the envelope addressed to the journal editor that will carry your submitted piece(s), and 3) a self-addressed, stamped envelope (SASE) that will carry the editor's response back to you. A few years ago it was customary to send the manuscript back and forth, thus the SASE had to be large enough and have enough postage to facilitate the postal return (this tradition stemmed from the fact that it used to be difficult to copy a manuscript so each one tended to be an originally typed draft, which may have represented many painstaking hours of careful typing, so a rejecting editor would return the manuscript so that it could be sent out to someone else). In more recent years, the SASE is generally just a standard business envelope because photocopying and printing have become so inexpensive it doesn't make sense to return manuscripts -- although I still see references to the practice in some journals' instructions to contributors.

While this time-honored method of using the postal service seems quaint today, some journal editors still prefer it, or at least they allow it for contributors who are not computer savvy (in other words, the writers and poets who are not reading this blog). I daresay this method is quickly dying out, but it hasn't breathed its last breath yet.

Email: Many journals, especially online journals, prefer contributors to send their work via email -- either as an attachment or pasted into the body of the email itself (some want both). It cuts down on the exchange of paper, so it's a greener approach than using snail mail. While all journals have their idiosyncrasies when it comes to submissions, I've found that journals who want email submissions have a wider variety of preferences, so you have to be extra careful that you're following their specific guidelines. For example, they often want the subject line of the email to be phrased in a particular way in order to help them keep track of submissions. Some have separate email addresses for various kinds of submissions, so poetry goes to one address, fiction to another, creative nonfiction to another, art to yet another, etc. Some journals who want the submission attached to the email will instruct you to include a short autobiographical statement in the body of the email, while others want a separate document attached. Still others will request a photo with the submission, so if they accept your piece they won't have to request the photo later. And on and on....

Bottom line when it comes to email submissions: You're helping the environment (or harming it less quickly), but be sure to read and follow instructions carefully.

Internal electronic portal: This method is becoming increasingly popular. Journals who use this approach have a link at their website that takes you to a portal page which allows you to type in relevant information regarding your submission (its title, for example, your pen-name if you use one, an autobiographical note, etc.), and it asks you to upload your story or poem or creative essay. There are several variations of this portal that you'll encounter, but they all work about the same way. A service called Submishmash is becoming very popular, and for good reason. Many journals use this portal service, while the writer or poet only registers once with Submishmash, which then allows you to log in and see all of your submitted pieces and where you've submitted them at once. It's very handy. Some journals using Submishmash (and other portals) require a nominal reading fee (commonly $2 or $3) when submitting, and you pay via PayPal, for example. The rationale here is that by providing an online portal, the journal is saving you even more money (not to mention, time) on paper, envelopes and postage, so it's a win-win for you and the journal.

Online portals have a lot of advantages for writers and poets: you can see, more or less, where your work is in the process, whether it's just sitting in the journal's inbox or if it's being read (or if it's been declined); also, if the piece is accepted elsewhere, you can easily log in and check the "withdraw" box -- otherwise you have to email (or, in some rare cases still, snail mail) a journal to let the editor know your piece is no longer available, which can be very time consuming. A downside to all-electronic-submission approaches, especially ones using a portal system, is that the number of submissions increases exponentially compared to the old-fashioned postal service method. (Of course, the other side of that coin is that you can submit to many journals easily and quickly, thus offsetting -- while simultaneously causing -- the lengthened odds.)

In future posts we'll look at issues like where to find journals to submit your work to, and variations in so-called "writers' guidelines." In the meantime, keep writing!

tedmorrissey.com