Could Lit Mags Benefit from Operation Awesome?
Writer explores how thoughtful critiques of rejected work could benefit both editors and writers
Welcome to our weekly column offering perspectives on lit mag publishing, with contributions from readers, writers and editors everywhere.
By Jordan Hagedon
It’s never been easier to submit to a lit mag. This means there are now hundreds (if not thousands) of stories stampeding in each submission period. Lit mag staff have to spend precious hours debating, pruning, organizing, rejecting, and accepting. All the while, writers are waiting desperately for good news. It can sometimes take months to finalize a decision on a story. It’s just a fact with the current system.
There are, of course, plenty of tactics lit mags employ to thin out the herd of submitters. One is the clear distinction of what genre or type of writing the publication is looking for. “We publish dark fiction and horror.” This filters out folks with personal essays, romantic comedies, cute anecdotes, etc. But it still leaves room for misunderstandings.
“Well,” some writers say, looking at their coming-of-age story about a boy who is bitten by a dog, “there is fear and blood in the story. That might count as dark fiction. Maybe if they just take a look at my story, they’ll be so charmed by it that they will make space for it. Couldn’t hurt to try!” What these writers don’t realize is that, of course, that story doesn’t count as dark fiction. And it could hurt to try a story that doesn’t fit at all. It clogs up the reading process, which clogs up the acceptance/rejection process, which, in turn, clogs up the submitting process.
The second tactic is listing out things lit-mags are and are not looking for. “We don’t want stories about vampires, kids doing drugs, or werewolves. We are looking for stories about Swedish folklore.” These requirements are specific and useful. But it still leaves room for many stories to slide in. Perhaps my story is on topic, but it still isn’t ready for submission. It could be an early draft in desperate need of revision, hastily proofread, or sent in on a wild whim, sliding in just as the submission window closes. There’s often a pile-up of submissions that fit the requirements technically. They just aren’t ready for publication.
This is where a blog I stumbled upon the other day comes in. Operation Awesome is a blog that shares tips and contests that help writers improve upon their craft.
What interested me about their work is their contest entitled “Pass or Pages.” Per their website,
#PassOrPages is Operation Awesome’s new query contest, begun in January 2016. Participating agents give brief feedback on a handful of entries, explaining why they’re passing… or requesting pages! The queries and accompanying feedback are posted on our blog anonymously, which helps querying authors get a peek into agents’ minds as they go through their slush piles.
Each chosen entry is laid out with query first, then the agents’ reactions to the query, then the first 250 words, and then the agents’ reactions to the first 250 words. Finally, the agents state whether they Pass or want Pages.
I thoroughly enjoyed watching the querying process unfold. It was fascinating to see how different agents reacted to different aspects of the query. Pitches I thought for sure would be abandoned were asked for pages. Others that I shruggingly thought were alright were gently ripped apart.
As an example, let me take you briefly through the “Brainy in Burberry” query submission. The author’s query pitched a young adult #OwnVoices novel set in New Delhi. In the story, a young woman, Mili, is forced to secretly pursue her dreams of modeling when her father signs her up for engineering school.
I particularly liked Agent Cortney’s approach to the piece. After reading the query, she writes that the bones appear to be in place, but that the overall pitch is missing internal conflict. She points out that the inner turmoil Mili must be feeling (struggles with school, conflicting feelings about her family, etc.) is only implied. It’s never shown in the query.
“We need a little more definition here, and especially with the last line,” she explains. “What tension and conflict is she feeling after she fails her first exams? ‘Tak[ing] stock and set[ting] her target high’ doesn’t give us insight into what Mili is experiencing internally, and I think fleshing this out a bit with those details will strengthen this a lot.”
Even though Agent Cortney has only read the pitch at this point, she can already see red flags. As we will find later, this is foreshadowing the faults in the first 250 words. The distance between implication and actually showing the reader Mili’s feelings is too wide a gap to jump in this draft of the novel.
In her notes on the first 250 words, Agent Cortney points out,
This starting point is way too late in the story; we have no chance to get a feel for who Mili is, what her family (and especially Dad) is like, what this moment means to her. This is the inciting incident, the thing that sets the rest of the story into motion, and there needs to be set up for this before it happens. Jumping directly into this pivotal moment is jarring, and it’s not impactful at all since we don’t have anything to compare it to. This is a pass for me; the query was a little shaky but had enough to assure me there was likely a decent structure, but the pages told me otherwise. I now worry the structure that I’d thought was potentially there is not, and the rest of the book might not be structured and paced in a way that works well.
This is great feedback. Tangible, useful critique that immediately makes the novel better and gives the author a wonderful lens through which to look at their future work. They can now return to their writing to reassess and rewrite. And potentially have an even better query/novel prepared for their next go-round.
Seeing behind the curtain piqued my interest. Comments the agents made could certainly be applied to the stories I’m working on. Was that first sentence really strong enough? Why would I begin my story there when it begins here? After spending so much time writing, proofing, editing, and submitting, I start losing perspective. But these agents’ comments refreshed my thought process. If only I could have this feedback every time I submit. Each story would find their exact fit in a home almost tailormade for them.
This is where I think lit mags could look to Operation Awesome for inspiration. Lit mags could try posting excerpts of rejected stories with detailed comments. Perhaps it’s a once-a-month blog post with a new excerpt from that month’s batch of submissions. Or it could be a dedicated section on the website with a few pieces carefully chosen as a lasting example. And to make sure it’s fair and consensual, writers could have the option of checking a box for detailed feedback in exchange for a segment of it being posted anonymously on the site as precedent for future writers. This is a nice little incentive to ensure participation. If selected to be used, they will get a full write-up and the mag gets to show potential submitters what it takes to get published.
For example, say your lit mag states “No second-person POV unless it’s done well.” Why leave that up to the writer’s interpretation? Post a few examples of second-person POV that’s been submitted to you and point out exactly what didn’t work.
At the very least, Operation Awesome’s tactic signals to readers the level of scrutiny they are about to endure. Maybe they take one more week to edit and revise their writing. Maybe a few realize that their writing would be a better fit elsewhere. Maybe a few people discover that your mag is a good fit for them, but that they want to submit in a different category or at a different time. Regardless of the reason, it’s better for all to have a targeted approach to submissions.
Of course, this won’t stop careless submitters from submitting. But it will help writers who take their stories and the submission process seriously. It will weed out folks who are capable of comparing their story to those examples. In theory, taking the extra time to provide detailed notes on why one story was rejected could save your lit mag hours of reading and rejecting. This could even be a great learning/teaching opportunity for volunteer staff or student readers. Whether it’s done by a volunteer editor regularly for a lit mag blog or done as a one-time-only example, lit mags and writers both could prevent wasted time reading and submitting stories that just aren’t useable.
Submitting is tough for everyone involved. The Operation Awesome tactic might work for your lit mag or it might not. Regardless, we should seek out ways to make the process easier. As a writer, I want my story read with fresh, inquisitive, willing eyes. I want you to suspend your disbelief and allow my story a chance to unfold itself. As a volunteer reader for a lit mag, I want the story to be well-written and exactly what we’re looking for. I want time to sit with your story, to ponder it, and to give it my full attention.
With so many unusable submissions pouring in, it’s difficult to accomplish this on both sides of the process. Spending a little more time showing what the lit mag isn’t looking for in a story might help stem that flow. Discovering the next great story takes time. So, let’s take it.
Jordan Hagedon writes from Michigan, USA. You can find her most recent work out or upcoming in Dirt Magazine, Grande Dame Literary Journal, and Gigantic Sequins. Follow her on Twitter @jeimask.
This is a wonderful essay that both offers a resource I had never heard of and suggests an actionable idea for literary mags, agents, and book publishers. I will do my bit by posting a link to your substack.
An excellent idea. It would take away precious time from the editors, but over the long run I would hope they would benefit from receiving more submissions of the kind they prefer.