35 Comments
User's avatar
Gail Marlene Schwartz's avatar

I deeply love the reframing. “Where does my work belong?” Also, “What is my goal?” And “What specifically will success look like and feel like for me?” A friend asked me how a book launch event went, and I answered, “Fantastic.” Then he asked how many people attended. “Three.” His face dropped. “Then how could it have been fantastic?” I said that the conversation was deep, nuanced, honest, and brought that small group of us into territory beyond the book. In other words, the conversation generated a kind of reflection that expanded our collective understanding. For me, that’s wildly fantastic. Many thanks for this very important article!

Expand full comment
Matthew Curlewis's avatar

I so love that you "chose" to view three attendees as being fantastic. So many others would have missed the whole point of the deeply nuanced conversations that followed, by getting stuck on the fact that 3 is quite a distance from 100. You've inspired me!

Expand full comment
Gail Marlene Schwartz's avatar

Thanks, Matthew. Part of it is maturity that comes with experience. And part of it is being intentional about asking those kinds of questions. Wishing you clarity and empowerment in your writing endeavors!

Expand full comment
Nancy Sobanik's avatar

I so appreciate this hard won perspective. I think starting out as writers many of us have the need for validation, and that has its momentary reward, like buying a new trinket. Eventually, as we hone our craft, we learn the self-assurance that comes from the hard work put into improvement. We know what we know, and the need for validation falls away. The world is beautiful, and we find our greatest satisfaction in the creating.

Expand full comment
Em B's avatar

I've been looking for where my weird little stories belong and haven't yet found a place. This was a helpful signpost saying "don't give up yet!"

Expand full comment
Jen Shepherd's avatar

This is so great! As a fairly new personal essay writer I have experienced the ups and downs of submitting. I must say I’m grateful for the good news/acceptances I have received during the last nine months but weirdly grateful for the rejections as well. I understand great work takes time and many revisions. Having another set of eyes (or several sets of eyes) on my work has helped me see differently. But I believe the biggest factor in lit mag submissions is a good fit. Currently I’m curating a short list of mags I feel most click with my style of writing, my view on the world. I do a lot of research (mostly by reading essays) before submitting. With that said, The Rumpus (ENOUGH) picked up my piece last month and I was shocked because it reads differently than most of their first person accounts of sexual abuse. So in the end you just never know. Thank you for calming my jittery writer nerves as I begin another day! Loved this.

Expand full comment
Mark Danowsky's avatar

This is a really well-written piece.

Expand full comment
G. Ballard's avatar

I've heard this sort of message before, but the way you state it plainly here just hit for me. Like, of course, this is common sense. Why fret about getting my story accepted anywhere that will have it, when often we're just not the right fit for each other? Thanks for this reminder.

Expand full comment
Matthew Curlewis's avatar

Thank you so much. Reading this felt like taking a warm bath. In a good way! Not in a "warm baths bring about boredom and wrinkles" way. Rather, I stepped out of the tub you created feeling both clean and refreshed - especially because rejection can make you feel dirty. You gave me a way of seeing that even that dirt is subjective. It's up to us to decide who and how we submit to, and indeed to ensure that we don't "submit" - in the dual senses of the word - to publications that are any "less clean" than we are ourselves. A totally refreshing perspective!

Expand full comment
Ann Graham's avatar

Excellent reminder. I do not send my work out willy nilly. Some of my stories have years of work in them and I try to send them only to places they belong.

Expand full comment
Isobel Freer's avatar

Excellent perspective. I always vet a lit mag before I submit—not just the "fit" angle but is it a journal I would want my work in. Bit of pride there—and no guarantee that they will see me in the favourable way I see them—and vetting each journal is time-consuming.

It is, however, as I mentioned in a post at my platform on X, a professional courtesy to do so.

With digital capabilities enflaming simultaneous submissions, this point becomes one more should hear and consider.

Too, lit mags could help the matter along by refusing simultaneous submissions. They do creatives—and the creative industries—no favours.

I like the depths you went into analysing the matter. Good read!

Expand full comment
Polly Hansen's avatar

I agree wholeheartedly with: "is it a journal I would want my work in." But refusing simultaneous submissions? No, no, no! If lit mags did that, with their 6-12+ month response times, I'd never get anything published.

Expand full comment
Isobel Freer's avatar

But suppose the egregious reply times are caused by digging through submissions that lack all professional courtesies: maybe they didn't pay attention to line length or theme or suitability for what a particular lit mag strives to accomplish.

On that note, maybe more lit mags should follow the one week acceptance window.

There very definitely are solutions, but getting rid of the flotsam of simultaneous submissions and establishing professional courtesies like of old sounds like a win-win.

But I venture here in utmost kindness—I started submitting my work in 1983 then it was 2000, more or less (a bit of less but don't need my life story here!), before I was able to begin to eye the process and work into it.

Didn't like rejections (!) and a multitude of other projects always called. So it is only now that I begin to see my work accepted and published.

So, very much in the pews with you and singing as soulfully as I can. But I do think we have problems in the industry now that need clipping and correcting

And good luck to you, Polly. We will get there!

Expand full comment
AdamT's avatar

Rather than refusing simultaneous submissions (which isn't a favor to most writers), I would suggest that more magazines cap their submissions in a given reading period. This would result in a lighter load for the editors and fewer disappointed writers.

Expand full comment
Polly Hansen's avatar

Yes, and some of the top tier pubs do that, but they get inundated even in a week. Having never run a lit mag, I don't feel I can say what the best practice is. However, if I have a story that I can send to only one lit mag because that's a requirement, unless they say they'll get back to me in a matter of a few weeks, not several months, I won't submit to them.

Expand full comment
AdamT's avatar

Yes, I've noticed that some mags (top tier and otherwise) close their subs in days. A certain segment of litworld is a coals to Newcastle situation. I view my submissions to such mags as no better or worse than buying a lottery ticket. I don't think that writers should invest much time/emotion in submitting to journals that routinely reject more than 95% of submissions. There are many high quality journals that aren't so deluged by subs.

Expand full comment
Rosemary Porto's avatar

Thank you.

I will save this encouraging advice and read it again before submitting (oh, that word!) and after hitting send.

Expand full comment
Tom Macfarland's avatar

Oh my goodness. You are so very right. The word should be abolished. Whatever happened to mutual agreement that a work was just not exactly what the organizaton, like a human partner, wasn't meant to be without turning it into a shameful haughty process. Now we just need to come up with a nice modern meaningful replacement for the stupid word that keeps getting forced down our throats, especially by NYC agents.

Expand full comment
Patrick Partridge's avatar

A nicely constructed argument that will likely resonate with most readers here. Writing is a peculiar form of art for the vast majority of us who are essentially amateurs or hobbyists that don't depend upon writing for a livelihood. Validation is often our only form of "payment." It satisfies, at least temporarily, a hunger that's hard to satiate otherwise. Breadcrumbs of praise from the publishing world keep us submitting for more.

Expand full comment
AdamT's avatar

The hunt for validation encompasses much more than artistic pursuits and tends to be emotionally problematic. I recall the first pangs when I didn’t win a prize at an end-of-year middle school assembly. These pangs have continued ever since.

In my experience, no number of acceptances (prestigious or otherwise) can outweigh newer rejections (prestigious or otherwise). Or maybe the issue is ratio of acceptances to rejections. One acceptance per 100 subs might feel like decent validation to some folk; while others might be dismayed by 10 per 100. All depends on your wiring and conditioning.

A Buddhist tenet that “form is emptiness, emptiness is form,” might be useful for some writers as they seek validation and deal with rejection. Our writing may be viewed as a series of squiggles, sounds, notions, symbols, and other representations—that don’t necessarily fall into stable hierarchies of value, any more than clouds, waterfalls, or birdsong. External approval of our writing may be a function of to what degree our words connect to arbitrary personal or collective ideals. Perhaps literary acceptance is not an objective measure of anything, other than the power of social constructs.

In light of the world’s overlapping crises, maybe the time is ripe to devalue the validation game/addiction. “Re-framing” is a term that psychologist might use.

Intermittent breaks from the hunt for validation might be a healthy practice for some people. Maybe one year on, one year off—while you keep writing, assuming that it gives pleasure.

Expand full comment
Harry's avatar

This article overly relies on external validation, which is a mistake. For writers (and editors too), validation is best cultivated from within, rather than depending on others who might undermine you out of jealousy or for their own amusement. However, external validation can be constructive, not destructive. Submitting your work to literary magazines that do not align with your style or genre is detrimental, as it can result in mismatched management from editors—similar to how a renowned chef in Brooklyn serves vermin as a virtuous meal to the poor.

Another interesting point is that this article primarily focuses on the major magazines, but there are many other reputable literary magazines available for writers to send their work to, offering a wide range of savory options and wonderful submission experiences.

But I do agree chasing external validation can become problematic when pursued indiscriminately. It’s pointless to seek approval from a dismissive art gallery, an arrogant magazine editor who intentionally does not read your work, or a spiteful chef at a fancy restaurant. Talk about looking for love in the wrong and dark places.

The term “submission” has quite a bit of a charge on it, suggesting that writers must pursue approval from an external, authoritative source. The truth is, getting validation from within is what makes writers resilient and allows them to flourish creatively without fear of rejection or others’ projections of rejection. It is curious how some individuals relish inflicting pain and casting their failures and long history of rejection onto others. Yet, the truth behind the submission process is far more varied and nuanced.

As for the external validation this article relies on, it can also be a mirror that reveals not only how others perceive our work, but how our work lives in the world beyond us. To know that your stories have moved someone is not shallow flattery—it can be deeply motivating. Some of the greatest artists didn’t just persist in spite of rejection, but also because someone finally said yes. One early vote of confidence can ignite decades of courage. That’s not vanity. For emerging artists, especially from marginalized backgrounds, validation provides visibility and access.

One huge misfire in this article is that it misses the mark in recognizing how external validation in the submission process does open professional doors—publishing contracts, residencies, grants, agents, collaborations—which many artists need to move forward in their careers.

Seeking validation is not inherently dangerous or as awful as this article makes it out to be. It involves allowing its absence to redefine your value or permitting its presence to lead to complacency. Submission isn’t about bowing down; it is about joining in. True validation isn’t about empty praise or fake power; it’s genuine acknowledgment.

That is significant. It deserves pursuit—but not abuse.

Expand full comment
Polly Hansen's avatar

So many important observations here. As much as I am hungry to be published, I want my work to be appreciated and I know it won't be by certain lit mags. It's like looking for the ideal reader, the one who gets you. In one of my critique groups, one person totally gets my subtly whereas the other members are clueless, they completely miss the message. I believe Vereen is saying something similar. Why bother submitting even if I'm hungry for publication, knowing my piece will be rejected because it doesn't jive with the represented work?

Expand full comment
Allison Bothley's avatar

This warmed me. I have been reckoning with validation seeking broadly in life and writing life. A great reminder to come back to when feeling weak. Thank you.

Expand full comment