(Original
article previously published in Magnapoets, Issue 2, July 2008,
minor updates/changes have been added to reflect recent events.)
One morning as I opened my email, I
noticed one marked "regarding submissions from 1/12/08,"
from a poet whose name I will not reveal. He notified me that one of
his poems had been accepted elsewhere for publication, stated I that
had his permission to publish the others, and hoped, if I liked his
work, I would re-publish it and the other poems in an upcoming issue.
After re-reading his submission, I congratulated him and told him,
"No thank you."
For the record, I applaud the poet's
honesty in admitting that his work had been simultaneously submitted
(he stated so in his first email). However, this poet's work, while
technically sound, did not resonate with me, which is, ultimately,
why I turned him down.
As a writer/ editor, I find myself
walking a precarious tightrope on the subject of simultaneous
submissions. In publishing, this is a conundrum that has plagued me
for years. Within this essay, I will explore the matter based on my
own and other others experiences to shed some much needed light on
the matter: why poets/writers brazenly - or not so -
simultaneously submit work to the "quickest" bidder.
According to an article I discovered in
the online magazine Ink and Blood, Norman Mailer was the first to pioneer simultaneous submissions, utilizing the natural
frustration and subversion that go hand in hand with a writer's
persona to send out manuscripts en masse to publishers. If I ever had
the chance to meet Mailer (alas, he's since shuffled off this mortal
coil), I'm not sure if I would've shaken his hand, or kicked his ass,
in that order. (Note: with manuscripts, simultaneous
submissions are another story for another time).
I'm not a prolific writer, though many
people would disagree with me. In my opinion, it's vital to me that
my work is read by as many people as possible. Yet, I want the "life"
of my prose and poetry to last. This means, in accordance with my
literary ethics, to refrain from sending the out same five poems to
ten different literary journals, which, according to aspiring
novelist and Subtle Tea editor David Herrle, is "like a
guy 'poking' several women to raise the chance of impregnation."
As the editor of poeticdiversity: the litzine of Los Angeles, I
no longer accept simultaneous submissions, In doing so, I find that
many poets/writers choose to believe I'm being disingenuous when the
rules of my publication clearly state:
7)
Previously published work will be considered for publication, but
with the following caveat; please cite where the work was published
for the former, and contact us if your submission was accepted
elsewhere for the latter. This will not bar submissions from getting
published in poeticdiversity,
it's just that every publication has its own rules and we don't want
to step on anyone's toes. Simultaneous submissions will not be
considered. And yes, we do check!
More often than not, these same
submitters assuage their conscious with the fleeting validity of
publication rather than risk the opportunity to be honest in return. Before I made my decision to stop accepting simultaneous submissions, I would do the following: perform a Google search to determine if the work had appeared elsewhere. If the work had already been published, I would request a
publication date and name. Nine times out of ten, my request is
ignored.
Because of this, I routinely reject work
of those who are less than forthcoming. It’s not in my best
interest, nor in my nature to represent the work of liars, the
notable exception being, in quite a few cases, the poet/writer in
question who accidentally omits the mention of previous publication.
This is an honest mistake, and one that I made on occasion.
Poets/writers who generate a body of work that spans a few years can
easily fall prey to forgetfulness, as poet and Magnapoets
executive editor Aurora Antonovic states, with unforeseen
consequences:
"While there are honest mistakes
(sometimes poets forget to where they've submitted what, or editors
reject a poem only later to publish it, and the unsuspecting poet has
already sent it off elsewhere), anyone who knowingly does this is
engaging in unethical behavior. If poets (or anyone for that matter)
want to be taken more seriously, they have to begin by behaving
responsibly.
I've never knowingly simultaneously
submitted somewhere, but I have made mistakes with records or an
editor has made mistakes. Human error is one thing, but deliberate
misleading of submissions records is serious enough, in my book, that
repeat offenders ought to be no longer considered for publication.
After all, no serious publication wants to get into copyright
trouble."
I have yet to hear of a small press
publication/literary journal suing another for violating the
"exclusive" or more specific (though it reeks of
nationalism), "first time North American serial rights"
rule, and Antonovic raises an excellent point: The frustration
writers and poets are exposed to, caused by editors who are not
timely or courteous enough with responses, which compels them to
simultaneously submit. Time lags have inspired Richard Beban, ex-pat,
poet, and author of What the Heart Weighs (Red Hen Press 2004)
and Young Girl Eating A Bird (2006 Red Hen Press), to take
a hard line with journals, and to seek alternate and more selective
means of publication:
"Since I began work as a poet in
1994, I don't bother sending to any publication that wants:
1.) exclusive rights, and
2.)
simultaneously claims a response time of six months or beyond.
I think six weeks is reasonable,
no matter how "understaffed" a publication claims to be.
Part of staffing should include the commitment to give writers enough
respect that you don't hold their work for inordinate amounts of
time. Writers like to see their work in print, yes, and particularly
within their lifetimes. I also query about the
work after six weeks, unless the specified response time is longer.
I even bug The New Yorker, which apparently has NO
specified response time, judging from the black hole my poems go into
when I send there. I give them (the publication) three months
in any case, and then gleefully simultaneously submit elsewhere."
Not everyone is as organized or as
adamant as Beban. In my opinion, his approach is straightforward, and
somewhat fair - because he has clearly established guidelines. Many
newer poets/writers, legitimately bound by time constraints, don't
have the time to research ALL the publications that they wish to
submit work to, as one anonymous writer/editor/poet shared with me:
"I do send out to about five
different publications at a time when I submit sets of poems. I do
that with publications who say they accept simultaneous submissions,
because they agree to take that risk. And writers take risks; too,
when we send work out to journals because it's more likely than not
that we're rejected. Of course, odds of acceptance depend a lot on
the match between quality of work and quality of publication, but if
we only submitted serially we'd be hard-pressed to have any kind of
publication credits at the end of the year. At the end of the day,
getting published is either important to you, or it's not. And if it
is, you want to be smart about it and increase your odds by
increasing your submission sights.
Groups like Writer's Relief make their living getting people published by doing that very thing:
targeting about 30 publications with a single set of poems from an
author. I know a handful of poets who use that service, and it does
seem to work for the writer. I'm sure it's hard on editors when work
is pulled at the last minute which is why a lot of them don't accept
simultaneous submissions."
While the writer quoted above is acting
responsibly by employing an intermediary like a writing/publishing
resource to act on his/her behalf, there are many more poets/writers
who are not, either because they are new to the submission process,
and become overwhelmed by the plethora of submission rules, or
because they experience frustration caused by the increasingly
iconoclast rule of "exclusive rights," which has caused a
potential pandemic of dishonesty between poets/writers and editors.
As the rift widens, not only does the relationship between the
poet/writer and the editor disintegrate, but the standard of a
publication can become compromised, as John Amen, poet and editor of
The Pedestal Magazine, maintains:
"Pedestal does ask for firsttime rights; i.e., we don't (re)publish previously published
material; we do accept simultaneous submissions and ask that folks
let us know if/when work is accepted elsewhere. This policy doesn't
seem to be creating too many problems, although we've had a couple of
situations that led us to consider changing the policy. Personally,
I've never been into simultaneous submitting. I don't know why, it
just doesn't appeal to me.
Now, there's another thing that goes on
from time to time: someone wanting to publish a particular piece in
various publications at the same time. It's not a question of whoever
says "yes" first gets the piece; it's that the writer wants
everyone/all the editors to publish the piece. As we ask for
first rights and don't republish material, this clearly doesn't work
for us. But more importantly, I think this practice does a disservice
to the literary landscape. It fosters homogeneity and compromises the
uniqueness of a particular publication."
I'm in accordance with Amen - and - I
firmly believe that homogenizing one's art is the ultimate
form of self-sabotage. I base my opinion on personal experience and a
hard-won work ethic. Which is more important: elusive
popularity coupled with the fleeting validation I receive every time
my name gets into print, or the TRUTH that exists in my words?
This is the question I ask myself as a writer when I submit work for
consideration of publication, and, as an editor to whom work
is submitted to on a weekly basis. I strive to respect myself and
others in this capacity, and I believe that honesty is the key to
bridging the chasm between poets/writers and editors.
This responsibility rests with the
poets/writers. After six years, I have found that it IS possible to
build a CV of publication credits without casting out my poetry and
prose like the proverbial bread upon the waters. The following
guidelines may help:
1) Be clear and careful. Study a
publication's guidelines. Follow them to the letter. If a rule is
unclear, take the initiative and contact the publisher.
2) As Beban illustrates, construct
clearly established parameters regarding submissions. One suggestion:
Unless the publication in question takes submissions on a rolling
basis, consider your submission to be defunct if you have not heard
from the editor by the publication date, and then take it somewhere
else. Or, if the publication gives permission to contact them after a
specific time, do so. You and your work deserve respect.
3)
A writers' resources, like Doutrope,
offer over 4,300 venues for publication, along with (daily) updated
listings, a submissions tracker, notification of changes to
publications (defunct, dead, temporarily closed to submissions).
Duotrope
is free,
though I would encourage those who use it donate money to its upkeep
once in awhile.
4)
Keep a log of your submissions; dates, titles and email
correspondences. Duotrope offers a log,. Many online publications are now using Submittable's Submissions Manager program, or you can create your
own in an excel spreadsheet. A lot of confusion and anger can be
avoided by getting organized in this fashion.
5) Be patient. Getting published en masse
does not guarantee your literary immortality. Turn off the little
voice inside your head that urges you to disseminate your work like
fish food in a tank full of guppies. Too much food can kill the fish!
6) You all have heard this one, and it
bears repeating. Carefully PROOF your work before submitting it
anywhere; that stray comma or missing period can make a difference
between a "Yes," or, a "No. Thanks for playing."
7) If all else fails, publish your work
on Facebook, Twitter, Blogger or Live Journal where the whole world
can see it, and where you can be fawned over or condemned to your
heart's content.
I
fear the day is coming - , no - it may already be here, where instant
gratification outweighs the desire for quality literature. Of my own
volition, I do my best to stem the tide. I wish each and every one of
you "good luck."
Finis
(Note:
Thank you to all those who answered my questions regarding this
matter, which, of course, we all know will not be resolved any time
soon.)
© 2012 marie lecrivain
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