Tag: poetry submissions

Angst/

Submissions – to enquire or not to enquire?

Submissions - to enquire or not?

First of all a huge thank you to Matthew Stewart of Rogue Strands who has once again mentioned my blog in his ‘Best UK Poetry Blogs of the Year’ roundup. It’s exciting to be in there with such great company, and always very nice to know this blog is read and enjoyed. I think all bloggers have those days when you’re writing something and you suddenly think “what if no-one reads this, am I just sneezing into the ether?” or whatever.

Now we have those crazy last two weeks before Christmas which, in a musical household, tends to mean every spare moment is taken up with concerts and the myriad jobs they involve. Poetry has to take a secondary role. Having said that, tonight is a last huzzah of the year with the Brighton Stanza having a seasonal evening of readings, magazine-swapping, socialising, celebrating and commiserating. I’ve managed to delegate the compering to two fine poets with big personalities and am looking forward to hearing a wide variety of poetry styles and performances from our eclectic mix of members, Brighton-stylee.

overwhelmed editor
I do sympathise. Honest.

Submissions news: no news (and not necessarily good news). But I did come across a very handy tool put together by Nathaniel Tower on his blog Juggling Writer – it’s a spreadsheet for keeping track of submissions. (The link to it is about halfway through this article.) My own submissions tracking started off very well but has gone a bit scruffy lately, and having inputted my current ‘out’ poems into Nathaniel’s nice clean version, I can see at-a-glance that I have 13 poems that have been out for 34 days, 4 for 50 days, 2 for 61 days, 4 for 89 days and 4 for a whopping 114 days.

I did recently enquire about the four poems that were submitted 114 days ago (August 16th) – a very polite enquiry of the magazine in question, asking where they might be in their reading schedule to give me some idea of how much longer before a response. I was brief, and about as friendly, humble and self-effacing as I could be within the confines of human dignity. But it didn’t surprise me not to get a reply, which in itself makes me sad.

I’m trying very hard to see it from the magazine’s point of view. I’ve read all the articles about how editors are overwhelmed, losing money and hair, besieged by poets who don’t read the magazine or the guidelines, who pester and get shirty if they’re rejected and so forth. The magazine editors I know or have met are nice people with a difficult job. I do understand and generally speaking I know you just have to wait, and when you get a ‘no’, you move on and send it elsewhere. I obey the ‘no simultaneous submissions’ rules and am prepared to tie up poems for months on end, that’s just what poets do.  I rarely enquire – but when I do, I wring my hands and think and think about the wording. I try to be as considerate as possible. But I don’t think it would be unreasonable to submit elsewhere after five months if a gentle query brings no reply.

Do you agree? Do you ever enquire about a submission, and if so, at what point? Do you get a response?

Meanwhile, a quick plug for the next Telltale Press event at the Poetry Cafe in London on Wednesday 7th January at 7pm – please come if you’re anywhere near London. It’s FREE! On the bill are Catherine Smith, Canadian poet Rhona McAdam, Siegfreid Baber plus Peter Kenny and myself. There’s a Facebook event page, let us know if you’re coming and hope to see you there.

Angst/

And lo … the teeny window of acceptances doth open

Waiting to hear the results of submissions can be like waiting for the interest rate to change – something could happen today, next month or not for a year or so. You know how I like to moan a bit about it (ahem!)…but come on,  I do seem to have had a fair amount of bad luck  (several lost submissions, poems getting rejected and accepted at the same time, notifications going astray, competition admins not changing the status on Submittable so you’ve no idea if your work has been read, etc etc).

Every acceptance feels like an impossibly stiff window opening an inch further. Rather like my frozen shoulder which six months ago laid me stupidly low, convinced I was surely entering Old Age, and now, little by little, it’s almost back to normal (no handstands as yet, though. No idea why I say that, because I haven’t done a handstand in at least 15 years.) Anyway, what I’m leading up to is that yesterday I had a note from Fiona at The Rialto to say they’d like one of poems for the next issue, which is always wonderful news. It also means the three poems they rejected are now free for me to send elsewhere. That’s a win-win I believe!

I went in for two or three competitions this year and the results of those are all due in the next few weeks, which again means even if I haven’t had any luck there at least I’ll have back a few poems that have been tied up for months. Look on the bright side no matter what!

Angst/

On persistence, or, another submissions stock-take

Broken Giant sculpture

Being back early from our hols due to N spraining his ankle, I found I had a day ‘in hand’ and was strangely at a loss. Until I remembered I’d been waiting for such an opportunity (ie an unallocated day) to sit down and open the ‘poetry’ folder on my computer.

I find it hard to get into writing poetry after a break, until I’ve done all the preliminary activity – checking what I’ve got still out, what’s in the ‘almost ready-needs work’ pile, a quick flick through the ‘rejecteds’ to see if I’m moved to re-work any of them. Then there’s the catching up with all the blogs I’ve not read in a while. I might check on what submission deadlines are coming up, and decide whether to go for them. It feels a bit like circling in a plane before landing – checking the terrain, the wind speed, the ‘big picture’, waiting for the best moment to touchdown.

One blog post that really got me thinking was this from the ever-excellent Jeffrey Levine: On reading and reading fees – how things happen round here.  Jeffrey is the Editor-in-Chief of Tupelo Press, currently accepting pamphlet and full-length collection submissions, and this blog post addresses the issue of why they charge reading fees. Apparently some poets have questioned why a reading fee is charged every time a manuscript is submitted, even though it may be the exact same manuscript as previously sent. Personally I have no issue with this – I think if one expects one’s manuscript to be read and considered then it’s right to pay for the reader’s time, expertise and thoughtfulness. If you send the same manuscript again, you can’t expect it to either be read by the same person (necessarily), or even if it is, for that person to remember it from before.

But the article covers much more than that – Jeffrey goes into a lot of detail about how he reads and responds to manuscripts, and it’s fascinating. Apparently it’s not uncommon for poets to submit the same manuscript again and again – ‘virtually everything we’ve ever published has been submitted to us several times over, even by those you might think of as Tupelo’s “big names.”’ One of the reasons I created my own pamphlet was because I was convinced that submitting the same pamphlet (more or less) to the same publishers again and again (and having it rejected) was a useless exercise, and that if a reader came to recognise the same set of poems it would just reinforce a sense of that poet having nothing fresh to offer.

I guess this just shows how much I have to learn. As Jeffrey says: “Sometimes big revisions make a big difference. Sometimes small revisions make a big difference. Sometimes a fresh reading makes a big difference. Often, even subtle changes in the order of the poems makes a huge difference. And sometimes, between one submission period and the next, a poet has an epiphany about how to make his/her poems or manuscript work—something snaps into place and s/he just gets it…..Moreover, I am not the same reader every time I read a manuscript. My tastes evolve. My reactions aren’t predictable. Being human, my attention span varies. Being human, what makes me want to turn the pages one day may not work for me the next day.”

It got me thinking about my attitude to individual poems. Last year I did a rough stock-take of how many times I’d send out a poem before putting it away in the bottom drawer. It doesn’t show a lot of persistence. I tend to only persist with those I think have something. And yet I know full well that my own appraisal of a poem has no bearing whatsoever on whether it meets the approval of an editor or competition judge. It always puzzles me when editors say on their websites ‘send us your very best work’ – would a poet really send something out if they didn’t think it was good? But then again – and perhaps more to the point – what difference does it make if the poet doesn’t think it’s good?

I’ve stalled a bit this year, in terms of getting poems published, but that’s mostly down to my own lack of temerity (I think) – I just haven’t been sending enough stuff out, because I haven’t been writing much new material, and I’ve lost faith in all the ‘rejecteds’, when what I probably should be doing is looking hard at the rejected poems. Maybe there are some I can improve. Or maybe I just need to try sending them to different publications. Or both. One thing I have been doing this year, even if not writing, is reading. I’ve subscribed to some different magazines to see what’s out there, I’ve enjoyed a lot of readings and acquired a variety of new pamphlets and collections along the way. But I need to make sure that being inspired by or admiring of others’ work doesn’t stop me from sending out. I think this may be what has happened – I’ve just lost a bit of confidence and momentum. But I think I’m in the mood now to tackle that.

N’s ankle is fine, by the way – two days ago he was hobbling into the hospital and now he’s playing the organ and desperate to take off the strapping. That’s confidence for you!

Bloggers/

On blogging, writing and giving myself time

Yesterday was the first session of a ‘Build your social web presence’ course I’m teaching at New Writing South, and the common question of how does one find the time to blog came up. Fellow bloggers, how would you answer this? Do you set time aside to blog, or just fit it in when you can? Do you have a schedule, or simply blog when you’ve got something to say?

As we talked about it, I said that actually not only do you find the time, you enjoy finding it – and that blogging and tweeting has helped improve my writing and my writing process. (I suppose it’s not always the case – it depends whether you’re blogging on a topic you feel strongly about. I’ve blogged on behalf of clients in the past and it’s not always easy to find enthusiasm for pallets or lanyards.)

Although it’s not a great idea to stop blogging for months on end – it might look like you left the country, or the world – I don’t think it’s worth stressing about things like how often, or how long a post should be, etc. But we all like rules, even if they’re rules of thumb.

I’m really enjoying writing this current book, a handbook on the theme of ‘blogging for writers’. Already I’ve made contact with many brilliant writer-bloggers and it’s great fun pulling together all the wisdom and ideas out there. I’m two-thirds of the way through and on target to deliver the bulk of it by Easter. After that  … another book! So it’s all about blogging at the moment.

BUT I’m making time for poetry too. I’ve been thinking about how I need to step back a bit from submissions-fever and spend time working on (DUH) writing better poetry. Just chill out a bit. Take my time. Read the greats. Resist reaching for the notebook or getting on the laptop. Enjoy the writing I am doing, even if it’s not poetry. This is a very new feeling for me, and I can only put it down to the joy of having created a pamphlet and a permanent home for my ‘first wave’ poems. All my ideas now are not ‘poem shaped’ but ‘collection shaped’, which feels more substantial and worth taking time over.

Angst/

So bad they rejected it twice

Just raising my head above the parapet to report that I’m about 20k words into my book and now at the point where I have to start printing pages off and going through everything with post-its, before I lose my many threads. It’s amazing how I can be convinced I’ve already covered something, or filed something, or penciled in a name and a quote, and then suddenly nothing is as it should be. Ack! I’m trying to do this one on my own, having had some research help with the last book. Remembering all the people I’ve contacted, and where I wanted to use a quote from them, is the hardest thing, despite it all being on spreadsheets.

Anyway, poetry is entirely gone from me at the moment. Although I’ve got stuff out, half of it is to competitions which is akin to playing those fixed odds betting machines. Entering one more comp won’t do any harm! Hey, I might even win! And next thing the (metaphorical) bailiff comes knocking. And for the first time in ages I’ve nothing forthcoming in magazines.

Then, having been rejected by The London Magazine, two weeks later they send another email – we’re sorry to tell you… you mean, you haven’t changed your mind? Or were those poems so bad you had to reject them twice? I did try having a little joke with the sender of the email, but (no doubt in the spirit of not engaging with possible nutters) she declined to respond.

A couple of good things though: the Heavenly Bodies anthology which I’m proud to be a part of is out on April 30th, although I won’t make the launch as it’s the other end of the country from me. Can’t wait to see it! Plus, my pamphlet should be arriving this week. I made some amends after seeing the proof, including changing the cover title and name from all caps to sentence case, as all caps seemed A BIT SHOUTY.

Would be nice to now go out for a walk in the sunshine, but … those post-its are calling to me.

Mags & Blogs/

Submissions update

Good news and bad news!

Quick update first of all to my October ‘working on, waiting on’ post: Poetry London – standard rejection slip. Shearsman – standard rejection email. The North – a very nice personal reply, but no. Envoi – yes (yay!).

I’ve also just heard that The Interpreter’s House (now edited by Martin Malone and with a shiny new website amongst other things) is taking one of the poems I wrote at Ty Newydd, which I’m very pleased about. It’s a bit of an homage to Ian Duhig. Martin also leaps right to the top of the ‘speed of response’ chart, having replied within a few days. Douze points!

After a sending spree I’ve currently got 6 poems out to Ambit, 3 to Antiphon, 3 to Lighthouse and 3 to Poetry Review. Plus a number of pamphlet submissions. Will post updates to all this as and when.

Angst/

Waiting on, working on, poems stock-take

I’m sat here with a number of scribbled-on poems around me, trying to decide which one(s) to resume work on and which to re-file for now. They’ve all been workshopped at some point, some of them to the extent that I’ve fallen out of love with them and not looked at them since. But surely there’s a grain or two I can rescue and use.

poems in progress
Everything here appears to be in tercets – hmmm.

I’m also checking what I’ve already got sent out, what hasn’t been sent anywhere yet, and what’s recently come back and awaiting re-sending OR filing for now OR re-working.

Currently in the ‘no response yet’ folder are:

  • Four poems sent to The North in May
  • Three to Poetry London in June
  • Five to Envoi in August
  • Five to Shearsman in September

At least three of these 17 poems I’ve since revised, which is sometimes what happens if I secretly think there’s a high probability of rejection. I know you’re supposed to only send out poems when they are the BEST THEY CAN BE. But how do you know when that is? Even stuff that’s been published I sometimes look at later and want to change.

And if you’ve substantially revised a piece, does it then constitute a new poem for the purposes of ‘simultaneous submissions’, and therefore legitimate to send elsewhere while waiting for the first magazine to reply? I haven’t done this yet (ahem! in case any of the above editors happen to read this!) but I’m thinking on it.

At the moment I’ve got one poem forthcoming in fabulous The Rialto, but nothing else. It’s not that I’m not very excited to be in The Rialto, but this year having made an effort to write more and send out more, so far I’ve had fewer acceptances. So I suppose I’m just wondering if I’ve become too hung up on quantity and the quality has slipped.

In a couple of weeks I’ll be on a poetry ‘masterclass’ at Ty Newydd, and I’m hoping it will be a kick up the bum/reality check/inspirational boost… or preferably all three. Will let you know.

Mags & Blogs/

Hurrah! Poem finds des res

The Rialto 56

As a poet friend once said to me, it’s always lovely when a poem finds a home. It’s true – it gives you permission to stop worrying about them, messing with them and trying to make them something they’re not. And if they really luck out then they land up somewhere de-LUXE. Like The Rialto.

The thin-looking SAE on the mat wasn’t promising. As I ripped it open I was already saying to myself ‘OK where shall I send these next?’ But lo, only two of the three poems fell out. Michael Mackmin wants one for issue 78. Joyous! Thank you thank you! It’s always worth the 6 month wait when The Rialto gives you a yay.

Angst/

A couple of rejections this week – oh well

Hook a duck

Two rejections this week – firstly, a ruthlessly perky email from Mslexia regarding their poetry comp (subject line “Better luck next time!”) – I suppose it’s good to be told you haven’t won anything, rather than not hearing anything, which is the norm. Nevertheless it felt a bit like failing to hook a plastic duck at a fairground sideshow – sorry love! – and the consequent tearing up of the losing raffle ticket. Ah well. At least the subject line wasn’t ALL IN CAPS.

Then I got a rejection from Magma, who I’ve found are generally very good at quick turnarounds of submissions, so all credit to them. This one seemed to be an individual rather than a standard reply, since the editors explained that while my use of ‘sound language’ fulfilled the brief better than most of the entries they had so far received, they hadn’t felt the three stanzas related sufficiently to one another to justify the subtitle I’d given it (‘Three voice canon’). I sent a off a quick ‘no problem! thanks anyway!’ chippy kind of reply, then woke up during the night wondering why on earth I hadn’t at least explained that the ‘canon’ referred to the reciting of the poem by three people almost simultaneously, the stanza breaks being the places where the next voice starts.

Should I have explained this in a footnote? Personally I don’t care for footnotes or complex explanations. But this is the first thing I’ve written intentionally for performance. So, yes, you guessed it, I sent another email saying just that – ‘since you took the trouble to offer feedback, I wanted to just say . . .’ – which probably came over as passive-aggressive but it wasn’t intended that way. I hope I was brief, calm and polite. I realise if there was an alternative reading of the piece then the fault is entirely mine, and I probably should have left it there. I’ve never engaged in correspondence over a rejection before, and in the deafening silence that greeted my email I had a sinking feeling that I had behaved badly. What do you think? Have I blotted my copybook? Clearly my ‘canon’ isn’t a page poem – so maybe I’ll publish it here on my blog and save it for performance only (I need 2 co-performers though!)

My week has been dominated mainly by very sad news of a poet friend, the kind of news that stops you in your tracks and makes you think just how inconsequential in the scheme of things it is to be blogging about the microworld of poetry or the ups and downs of competition entries and magazine submissions. And I remember the words of a neighbour and friend who died last year aged just 52, ‘in the end, all that’s left is love.’

Angst/

Anatomy of a rejection

Rejection

Rejection

It was a long time coming (4 months) but Under the Radar finally emailed me a standard ‘not this time’ (or possibly ever?) note the other day, which prompted me (of course) to look at the offending poems to see if there’s mileage in sending them out again as is, or whether they merit reviewing.

I don’t know about you, but I sometimes look at poems when they’re sent back and think ‘well they were rubbish anyway’, but that might be psychological – especially when it’s hard copies in the post and they look like they’re untouched by human hands and probably went straight into the SAE within mllliseconds (as opposed to read, re-read and ummed and ahhed over) – isn’t it silly the games we play with ourselves?

This time, I’m not yet sure which ones I shall re-submit, so I won’t post the actual poems here, but I thought it would be interesting to do a little ‘hard looking’ at each one and share the process with you.

1) The first was one I was quite pleased with, even after workshopping in a Brendan Cleary session some while back. I did make some changes though, and my possibly ‘too clever’ syllabic scheme (which was supposed to tie in with the theme but perhaps required too much obscure knowledge of South American dance styles) maybe sank in its own merengue. But I think the premise is good, so I will persist with this one, perhaps send straight back out elsewhere.

2) Poem number two has been knocking about for a while and is based on a dream sequence that seemed fun at the time but I know the old ‘dream sequence’ thing is a bit of cliche. There’s a lot here I still like, but perhaps it’s a bit over-egging one decent idea, like an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, until you kind of see what’s coming. I do tend to go for cute endings and must curb the tendency for it to be too pat. This poem was first started about 18 months ago – it’s done the rounds and gone through various iterations. So maybe needs resting.

3) Quite a recent one this, and I think it was the best of the bunch. I don’t think I’ve tried it anywhere else. It’s in my favourite form, couplets, but I wonder if there’s just too much going on and  it needs simplifying. Again, I still like the premise, it’s unusual. So worth looking at the language and eliminating the extra weight, I think. Must not Try Too Hard.

4) Last but (not?) least: this one was always risky – a nursery-rhyme theme in Shakespearean sonnet form – can you say ‘rejection waiting to happen’? Actually though I think it only needs a small amount of close attention to make it decent. There are a couple of dodgy lines where the form shouts out and that’s not good. But a lot of good things. So not worth giving up on yet.

As always, I’ll keep you posted if any of these find a home elsewhere, with or without revisions!

Cartoon credit: http://billanddavescocktailhour.com/