Dear Lit Mags: Stop Making Submission Guidelines So Complicated

Poet & Editor makes a plea for clearer, fairer submission guidelines

Welcome to our weekly column offering perspectives on lit mag publishing, with contributions from readers, writers and editors around the world.

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I started getting serious about my involvement with the literary community in 2008. Over the past fifteen years I’ve been a poet/writer, first reader, reviewer, and held several editorial positions across genres. I am also the Founding Editor of ONE ART.

I have given a great deal of thought to what makes lit mags writer-friendly.

In many ways, I see this article as a companion piece to ‘Demystifying the Editor/Writer Relationship’ which I also wrote for Lit Mag News.

Submission Guidelines have the word “guidelines” for a reason. 

You can’t expect everyone to follow guidelines perfectly. The formatting might be a little off, writers may send you something that’s slightly over the word limit, they may have written “Dear Editor” instead of the proper genre editor’s name…Don’t be a perfectionist. Who does this truly serve?

Develop a system that works or don’t run a lit mag. 

If you can’t get to submissions in 6 months, you ought to have a good explanation. Don’t give us the “it’s a labor of love” or “I have a full-time job” or “I have young children” excuse…So do many editors. 

On May 25th, 2011, I sent a poetry submission (albeit a bad one, in hindsight) to a journal I know run by editors I respect. I received a form rejection on September 8th, 2013. Humorously, when I looked this up, I was surprised it had only been two years. I recalled it being five. By comparison, around the same time, two “top tier” journals replied in a mere five days. They were form rejections, which was to be expected.  

If your journal takes months to respond, at the very least, give an approximation of response time on your website. 

Avoid crickets. 

Deep down, writers just want to understand “The Why.” A form note sent to all writers with pending submissions, with even a lukewarm apology, explaining the delay in response is one way journals that take months to put together a quarterly, biannual, or annual issue, can help writers feel in the loop. 

Don’t throw out submissions without just cause. 

Not using your preferred font is not a reason to toss a submission. What pedestal are you standing on? Keep in mind the classic saying, “With great power comes great responsibility.”

Journals vary from dismissive to outright aggressive policies.

I used to submit to The Threepenny Review regularly. After years of doing so, I was informed by someone who knew the editor personally that my submissions were being thrown out unread. This is because I was emailing my submissions. Based on the current guidelines, it still sounds like you can send an email to submit. You have to read all the way to the end of the guidelines to discover “Emailed submissions will be discarded unread.” 

Duotrope has an extensive list of editor’s responses to [self-]interview questions about their journals. 

Example questions include, “What do submitters most often get wrong about your submissions process?” and “Describe the ideal submission.” 

Some of the answers are rather harsh. Responses include: 

“When they don't even use my name in the cover letter. Dear Sir/Madam doesn't cut it.” (Jennifer Grigg, Editor-in-chief of Green Bottle Press)

“Consider the Freefall method: to write without concern for editing. That is not the best submission. Let's be clear. Susan would say spelling errors in your cover letter or sending in too many poems.” (Micheline Maylor, Editor-in-Chief of FreeFall Magazine) 

“General grammatical, spelling or formatting errors also drive me bonkers. Please proofread your work. Misspelling the name of the journal is the fastest way to get a rejection.” (Lauren Kay Halloran, Editor-in-Chief of Redivider: A Journal for New Literature) 

“Beyond simply not following our guidelines (which are in line with other journals' guidelines), our biggest reason for rejection (or blacklisting) is simultaneous submissions.” (Stephanie Lenz, Managing Editor of Toasted Cheese Literary Journal) 

“Following guidelines. Fiction submitters often forget to tell us of their favorite novel or greatest life revelation. We sort of care about the revelation mostly because we'll know if a submitter of fiction has read the guidelines. Poetry submitters will often forget a cover letter. When a poet’s cover letter states something like ‘I'm a butterfly’ we won't even open the submission. These seemingly silly points are only in place to see if someone has bothered to read the guidelines.” (Anthony ILacqua, Editor-in-Chief of Umbrella Factory Magazine) 

The Pain of Non-Response

Many writers eagerly await hearing back about their submissions. Probably too eagerly. Still, this is how it is. With that in mind, it’s cruel when editors fail to respond at all to a submission. A form rejection is wildly preferable to the scream of silence. 

I have had many non-responses over the past fifteen years. 

For example, I submitted poetry to The Atlantic in January 2017 and I’m still waiting for a reply. 

From the writer’s perspective, with the door still appearing open, they’re left wondering an endless series of “What If” questions. This is unfair to the writer. Do them the service of returning their work so they can try their luck elsewhere. 

As an addendum, I’d like to note that I’m not a fan of statements that say something along the lines of “If you haven’t heard from us in a month that means we decided not to include your work in the next issue.” For me, it doesn’t really matter if it’s a week or a month or six months—it’s simply the principle of taking time to at least acknowledge the submission. Otherwise, the writer is left with a tree-falls-in-the-forest-but-no-one-sees feeling. 

Do writers a favor and keep it simple.

You know the odds of acceptance.

There’s a common rule of thumb when it comes to driving—don’t do anything unexpected. This can cause an accident. In submissions, the stakes are lower (obviously). This still rings true. If someone submits work and you have atypical guidelines, it should not come as a surprise when someone messes up. To err is human; try to give folks a break. 

Here’s an example of making it complicated:

“I'm continuously surprised by the content I love, so I'll focus on form: the ideal submission is in Shunn's Standard Manuscript format: TNR or similar, 21, page numbers, contact information in the top left corner. We also seek submissions with clearly-designated trigger warnings, whether on the manuscript, in the body of the email, or both. We have a strong preference for submissions in Doc/DocX form, but also accept PDFs. We like, but do not require, a brief cover letter, addressed to the editors (and NOT to "Sir/Madam;" this is an instant reject for us) and introducing yourself. If you're not sure what to write, don't be intimidated! Cover letters are awkward and we're pretty chill. If you can, include a short bio, including your name, pronouns, and social media links. Since we're all writers ourselves, we love simultaneous submissions, and strongly encourage you to submit simultaneously –– but please withdraw if accepted elsewhere, since we do not typically take reprints.” (Cavar Sarah, Managing Editor of Stone of Madness Press) 

What follows is an extreme version that seems to beg writers not to submit:

“they don't follow the guidelines.

they don't take chances.

they follow the rules too closely.

they don't believe in their work.

they are arrogant in their cover letters.

they are tame in their work.

they don't take chances.

they don't address emails to Jacklyn. i am tired of the "to whom it may concern" (auto delete) or "dear editors" just tells me they didn't go to the page and check it out.”

(Jacklyn Henry, Editor in chief of eighteen-seventy magazine) 

Here’s an example of a good response to a Duotrope interview question courtesy of Timothy Green (Rattle): 

“Just send your email to the right address and you'll be fine. General submissions go to our submissions address. Contest entries go to our contest address. Don't confuse the two. Nothing else really matters.”

Allow sim subs.

Not allowing simultaneous submissions is a disservice to writers. Given the likelihood of acceptance—statistics are not in the writer’s favor. Allowance for sim subs should be adopted by all lit mags. 

Previously published work.

Everyone wants to curate and showcase new work. But the concept of what constitutes “previously published” needs to catch up to modern times. 

Writers should be able to share their work without fear of repercussions (including not being able to publish (aka. have their work curated) in a lit mag in the future.

Writing that is published on social media, in forums, read aloud at readings, or shared in a personal blog should still be able to count as having first appeared in a literary journal. If the work appeared on a personal blog, editors could ask that it be taken down (though I wouldn’t suggest that). Instead, I’d suggest asking writers to amend the previous post to note that this work was published in their journal. 

Adopt contemporary language.

Timothy Green (of Rattle) penned an essay encouraging lit mags to adopt “curation” as a term in place of “publication”.

Many have noted that it would be ideal to get away from language like “submission,” “rejection,” and even “acceptance.” The word “decline” is often floated as a vaguely more polite substitute for “rejection.” 

Editors, myself included, will often say in a “rejection note” that we are choosing to “pass.” This is often followed by words of encouragement to consider reaching out and send along more work in the future. 

Using harsh language can damage fragile egos (which is everyone in these circumstances) and act as a blow to a writer’s self-esteem and confidence. Editors want writers to keep writing.

Let poets/writers/artists maintain the rights to their work. 

Writers need to be able to get the word out about their work. Lit mags should not be holding them back. Take Green’s suggestion to embrace the term “curation”. 

Regarding reprinting rights, you can take archival rights and digital rights and rights that allow you to include the work in a future anthology, etc. Writers are generally going to be fine with that but, ask yourself if you really need to own the work. 

Further, if you do decide you want to own the work, let writers make use of it for purposes that are of mutual benefit. An example is letting a Featured Poet reprint their work in a literary journal. I don’t see how this is causing a publisher great harm. You don’t need to charge hundreds of dollars for each poem a poet wants to have featured in a small lit mag. The exposure may help sell more books. Plus, you’re giving yourself a bad name as a press/publisher by charging these types of fees. It’s a bad look. 

Most lit mags are not out to harm their writers. There are certainly good lit mags and presses that adore their writers but still want to retain rights. 

Don’t send rejections on major holidays 

Don’t send rejections on Thanksgiving or Christmas.

Ideally, don’t send rejections on a Friday night or Saturday night – it’s a bummer.

Writers get upset when they receive a rejection on their birthday but, in fairness, the editor(s) cannot be expected to know it was your birthday.

Don’t be picky about cover letters. 

People submitting literature to you are not interviewing for a job.

As Emily Wojcik, Managing Editor of The Massachusetts Review, wrote in a Duotrope interview, “It seems like some writers believe that we will read (or not read) a submission based on how clever the cover letter is (as though they were applying for a job). We are committed to reading every submission we receive, and often don't read the cover letter at all, unless we suspect we've published the person in the past. We're judging submissions based on the quality of the individual piece, not whether the writer has been published elsewhere. We see a lot of effort go into cover letters that would have been better expended on revising the text itself.” 

A cover letter should not be mandatory for the submission to be read. 

In a Duotrope interview, Terri L. Cummings, Editor-in-Chief of Songs of Eretz Poetry Review, writes, “We care a great deal about cover letters and will summarily reject a submission that does not include one. Cover letters must include the following information: 1. If yours is a simultaneous submission or not. 2. How you discovered Songs of Eretz. 3. Your contact information including at least your city and state, or country if outside the US. 4. MOST IMPORTANT: Please do NOT include anything else such as your bio or credits--nothing annoys us more. SEE OUR GUIDELINES FOR DETAILS.” 

I’d like to encourage editors not to be snarky either. 

Often, I’ll see remarks in submission guidelines that say something along the lines of, “We don’t need to hear your life story.” I hear you and, as an editor myself, I get where this is coming from. But, there’s a nice way to ask prospective contributors to only include information that feels relevant to this particular submission.

Be a futurist. 

We all have internal biases. Try your best not to make premature judgments about submissions. There is no “right way” to speak English. AAVE (African American Vernacular English) is where lots of language that eventually becomes listed in the dictionary comes from. Be mindful of gut reactions to language use, cadence, and delivery. It’s entirely possible that your current opinion of what sounds “proper” or “correct” may change in just a few years. Being a futurist in this sense is a wise policy choice.

Oh, you charge submission fees?

If someone paid a fee to submit, you are obliged to give their submission a few moments of your time regardless. Make it a personal rule.

Atypical submission guidelines.

If you want separate documents or PDFs or something a little wonky—explain to prospective contributors why this is the case in your submission guidelines. 

Being transparent about your reasons will make contributors less likely to grumble about having to go through the motions of complying with your demands.

Aim to make your lit mag accessible.

In this case, when I say accessible, I mean disability-friendly. 

Consider the possibility that your guidelines may be difficult or unfriendly to those with disabilities. Aim for your journal to be a reader-friendly and contributor-friendly space for all.

Don’t pay? Don’t expect a free lunch.

If you are not a paying publication, take a moment to ask what you’re expecting of others for free. You’re already getting writers’ work for free. Don’t make them jump through a ton of hoops. If you do, you’re asking for more of their time for free. This goes both ways. Often, it’s writers who are inconsiderate with an editor’s time but that doesn’t mean the tables never turn. 

Being an editor means you’re a gatekeeper. 

Take it seriously and treat the job with the respect it deserves. You’re a trusted member of the literary community. Bad actors reflect badly on the whole community.

Stay active. 

What you do with your time is who you are. Not attending to your journal reveals that it’s not very important to you.

It’s always been about the work.

Focus on whether or not you like the work. In the end, that’s all that really matters. 

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