Why Am I Writing If Nobody’s Reading?
"There’s always a destination, whether we want to admit it or not."
Welcome to our weekly column offering perspectives on lit mag publishing, with contributions from readers, writers and editors around the world.
If a story is published in a lit mag and no one’s around to read it, does it make a sound?
Facetious philosophy aside, many writers struggle with some version of this question. This summer I had a piece published by a small print journal. It was a journal I’d heard of before, not the result of some endless slog through internet databases. I believe I’d even picked up an issue at some event or conference and liked the tone of it. In fact, I’d submitted to them in the past and been rejected. So, this publication felt like a decent accomplishment.
Then a funny thing happened. My mom asked if I could purchase an extra copy for her to give to a relative. Sure, no problem, and I naively hopped online to do just that. Except I couldn’t. Their website offered no way of ordering the journal directly. No links to Amazon or another third-party seller. No list of bookstores carrying the publication. Nothing to indicate how an interested reader might go about obtaining a copy of their fine publication. And as this was a print-only journal, there were of course no internet archives of my, or any other author’s, work.
I emailed the editor, and after some delay, another copy was sent to me. Apparently, this is their main method of distribution, which raised an interesting question. If it was this difficult for me with a vested interest to get my hands on the journal, was anyone actually reading it? Well yes, I assume the other authors who received contributor copies did. Though whether they read any piece besides their own is another question, one that could fill up a whole other column. But was anyone outside of the insular group of those directly involved with the journal reading it?
No doubt, some people would say this is my own fault, I obviously didn’t do my research. Fair enough, but honestly it had never occurred to me that availability of a publication was something to check, especially in a print publication. If they were going to the expense of printing in this digital day and age, I assumed it was for the radical reason of wanting people to read the things they put on paper. So yes, lesson learned, I now always look to see if a copy of a lit mag can be easily obtained before I submit.
I should note that I do not feel that this journal was running some kind of scam. They are simply a small operation with limited resources. To me, they published quality work, and several of the writers featured were arguably more established than I am. If they felt this was a worthwhile place to submit their work, why shouldn’t I?
And so, we come to the BIG question. Why do writers pursue lit mag publications at all? Because let’s face it, even if your piece is published in an easily accessible journal, the readership is relatively small. And the percentage of those who read each issue in its entirety is smaller still. When you get right down to it, the numbers aren’t good.
I knew long before this publication that lit mag readership was sparse. Armed with that knowledge I still chose to write short stories and seek a home for them in such places. But this most recent experience caused me to really examine my motives for pursuing this avenue of writing. What was I seeking? Ever elusive validation? Yes, there was an element of that. The boost a writer receives from having just one editor, or in other words a single reader, respond positively to their work is not to be underestimated. But for every brief burst of encouragement, there have been hundreds of chips off the old confidence block in the form of “unfortunately, your work is not a good fit for us at this time.”
So, there must be more to it than an unbalanced equation of acceptances and rejections, unless I’m far easier to please than I’d like to think. Of course, I do write for myself. It’s a vital part of my life. Do I do it only for myself? Is the act of publishing a happy, but unnecessary, biproduct? Well no, unfortunately I haven’t reached that level of enlightenment.
I’ve never been much for fuzzy mantras. “It’s the journey not the destination,” and so on. There’s always a destination, whether we want to admit it or not. Sure, the journey’s important. But if there’s no destination, it’s not a journey, is it? It’s just walking in circles. Writers need to have goals. And lit mags often offer the most attainable goals. Frustrating and painstaking, but still more attainable than cracking the New York Times Best Sellers List, or even finding an agent.
Perhaps for some, the goal is merely to finish. To get up each day and conquer the blank page. But I think for most, the goal is to make some noise, faint though it may be in the vast forest of the literary world. Even if no one besides the editor and my family ever reads that story, I still put it out there. It might not reach a vast audience, but it will reach at least one more person than if it had sat forever in my computer hard-drive.
The truth is, I really don’t know who’s read that story. Who may still read that story. Or what tiny ripple it may leave in their mind. Which, when I think about it, makes my fingers tingle just a bit. Excited to embark on a new piece with the same destination in mind.
Most of all, I’ve come to realize that I measure my success as a writer in many ways. And so, I continue to write and seek publications in small places where the readership is smaller still. For myself. For the hardy few who keep the lit mag world thriving. For the potential those stories take with them when they leave my screen.
 | A guest post by
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Why you’re writing is different than why you are submitting work to journals; those are two different questions. This piece addresses the second question, not the first, which is of course a more intimate, personal, existential question. Having parsed that, there are some very good reasons to submit your writing to lit mags even if “nobody” (meaning, not very many people) are reading:
The cred. If you are published, you get to list the work in your author bio, your queries to agents, your applications for fellowships, grants, and residencies; and anywhere else cred counts.
Validation: a lit mag editor is not just any reader. If you are published, you have demonstrated talent or a distinct voice or a gift for lyricism that has impressed a skilled, discerning reader – someone who has read a lot of submissions and knows what’s good.
One reader can make a difference. I was recently contacted by the editor of a small start-up online magazine because he read something of mine that was published in another online magazine and liked what he read. He asked me to submit. I did. He accepted it. It was great to be seen in that way, even if by only one fellow human being.
And finally, always, art is a gift. You are called to write. You will write anyway. You submit so that your writing, your calling, has some trajectory, some audience, even if it is tiny. To be read is the fulfillment of the gift. Does it matter if your gift is accepted by only one or a few or many?
I DO read ...and thereby become inspired to write. I don't care if a journal is obscure; my writing is practice for writing that may have wider readership, including full-manuscript-length work.