Why ONLY POEMS Isn’t a Nonprofit Organization
Editor of new poetry magazine explores innovative ways to run a journal
Welcome to our weekly column offering perspectives on lit mag publishing, with contributions from readers, writers and editors around the world.
Okay, first, jokes. “Non-profit,” in the non-legal sense, literally means something that doesn’t net profit. So, by that definition, ONLY POEMS is most definitely a “non-profit,” or perhaps even “anti-profit,” because, well, I crunched the numbers today and our profit is negative $3,264.22.
When Karan and I first set out to start a lit mag, our main goal was to do something a little different, something that goes an extra mile in spotlighting writers. We both write across the genre and categorization map — poetry, fiction, essays, love letters, secret rants. But in terms of the work we’ve mostly been “recognized” for so far — well, that’s poetry. I say “recognize” in those precious quotes because it’s not like Penguin’s come knocking at our door to publish our debut collections or whatever, but we have, over the past two years — much to our deep gratitude — been lucky enough to work with some amazing editors at some top-notch lit mags. So when we were discussing what our potential lit mag would focus on, poetry was the obvious frontrunner. Plus, it’s arguably quicker to review poems than it is longer work.
When Karan and I first set out to start a lit mag, our main goal was to do something a little different, something that goes an extra mile in spotlighting writers.
Okay, genre was settled. What about the “a little different” thing? As we mention in our ethos, most of the lit mags we love have a poem-a-day model in that they release a bunch of poems by different poets in a single issue as opposed to featuring a portfolio of work by the same poet. Our lit mag, we decided, would publish “poets, as opposed to poems.” This meant that when we got submissions (which, in these initial excited talks, we had no idea if we would even get) we’d have to like most of the packet as a collective submission instead of just one or two. Cool. Now we needed a website and money to pay for said website. Easy, “hey Karan — didn’t you just get $200 for publishing your last poem?” “Why yes, and didn’t you just get $300 for the essay you published a couple weeks back?” Yay, we’re rich enough to buy an annual Squarespace Business plan!
Another thing that was of utmost importance to us was being able to pay poets. We knew we couldn’t do a lot, but we wanted it to be at least good enough for now. So, we pooled together a few more payments from our recent publications and figured we could afford to pay $55 per contribution. Now, onto the super awesome website everyone will flock to!
While neither of us are website designers, we have both designed our own websites. So we pulled an all-nighter and designed the ONLY POEMS website and it was so beautiful and we were so in love and so excited and this was going to be so much fun and a lit mag that will last forever and ever and we’ll get all the grants and give back to the poetry community and…Okay, wait, to get grants you need to be a Real Nonprofit Organization. Also, wait, we need to start doing something first — like actually start, you know, being a lit mag. Cool, let’s put a call out for submissions. Cue another several hours creating and setting up social media and refining submission guidelines. And then, we posted our official submission call. And waited. For a few minutes. And started getting submissions. Not a lot, but a steady trickle. Eventually, the trickle became a pleasant waterfall, and then a rainstorm (and we love rainstorms)!
Okay, now we’re reviewing submissions and planning out our first issue (in time for Leonard Cohen’s birthday) and things are churning along. Let’s figure out how to be an official real magazine that can get grants. After all, isn’t that how all magazines stay alive? Donations and grants? Or university affiliations (which is, technically, a mix of both donations and grants). Karan and I were both in the US at this time. He had just started his MFA at Virginia Tech and I was there with Ana (our daughter) helping him set up the house and get settled in. I was meant to return to Canada to finish my B.A. at the University of Toronto (another year) before we could reunite as a family. Which is all to say, neither of us are Americans. And while non-citizens can certainly be on a nonprofit board and open a business in the U.S., it sure as hell does help to have a real life true blue American helping you out. One of Karan’s mentors agreed to be on our board if we figured out all the legal and tax work.
Oh boy, this was easier said than done. There are pages upon pages of that official 501(c)(3) form and the penalties for getting stuff wrong are higher than a cat on catnip riding a rocket to Jupiter. You can’t just have I-published-a-poem-money for that shit. You need lawyer money. Neither of us have lawyer money. Well, this was one hurdle, but it is not the only reason ONLY POEMS is not a nonprofit and no longer intends to be one.
Here’s the thing, the reason most lit mags are nonprofits is because they are following an old model that has, for better or for worse, worked for quite some time. For some of them, it’s worked quite well. For others, they’ve dropped off into the void with little to no fanfare (maybe the odd hullabaloo here and there). While mulling over this nonprofit game, I was extremely lucky to get to speak with Ben from Chill Subs (and one of the reasons I was inspired to reach out to him was because of the Lit Mag News article he published on how lit mags make money).
Karan and I have been told point black by most people: you’re in the business of losing money. One does not start a lit mag to make money. And yes, that’s true. We aren’t in this for the money. But we also don’t think that squeezing and bending ourselves every which way to get the nonprofit stamp and then continuing down the same road asking for alms (ahem, grants), knocking on the same doors that over a thousand other lit mags are also knocking on is just the best way to go about things. It’s nearly 2024. Sure, the world is going to shit and art is dead. But also, the world is beautiful in many small, surprising ways and artists of all kinds are one of the biggest reasons why.
Why is it that the people who watch movies aren’t just the people who make them? Or the people who buy visual art — is that only the people who draw or paint? How about music? There isn’t a more popular art form than that. I have no sense of pitch or tone and I wouldn’t survive one walk to the grocery store without my airpods blasting Bright Eyes (if I’m depressed) or Dawes (if I’m happy). So why is it that the most vital and one of the oldest, most crucial artforms — writing — has become so fucking insular? Why do we think that only writers read lit mags? Well, maybe because they do, right now. But this wasn’t always the case. Lit mags used to reach a far bigger audience and there was overwhelmingly more interest in reading and sharing the work that was published as opposed to just singularly submitting to it.
It’s nearly 2024. Sure, the world is going to shit and art is dead. But also, the world is beautiful in many small, surprising ways and artists of all kinds are one of the biggest reasons why.
ONLY POEMS is now officially incorporated as ONLY INK Inc. We are, legally speaking, a for-profit business. This allows us to operate with greater independence and expand our future offerings with far more flexibility. Furthermore, on principle, we want to establish that writing is work and work deserves money. Yes, those can seem like “crude” terms for artists, but why. Money is important, and writers should have it. As should people who work to promote the work of writers. We want to be able to support our poets as well as our staff. And look, we’re not expecting to be rolling in dough here. Probably not even close. But every little bit counts. Everything goes towards furthering the cause, working with those principles, and trying our damn best to create a thriving community.
We know this isn’t a well-trodden path and we might make a shit ton of mistakes. But we believe in our little lit mag and what we’ve set out to accomplish. Fine, if it takes us a long time. At least we know we’ll make amazing friends along the way. And get to share some beautiful writing. Plus, with the freedom to experiment, we can try out so many cool things. Like our new ONLY POEMS Substack where we’ll be featuring MFA deep-dives, expert insights to grow your poetry career, micro-reviews of overlooked books, new poems, and so much more.
I don’t have all the answers. Not yet, and maybe not for a while. But I do think that settling into old patterns on a foundational level is part of the problem here. Writers and publishers of short form narratives (like poetry, flash, short fiction) seem to have imbibed the “poor artist” image to such a degree that the only recourse they seem to be able to find to gain value from their work is by asking for huge organizations, corporations and the ever-volatile government for some pittance, a bit bigger for some, a bit smaller for others. Where are the innovative ways for generating revenue? Value given for value provided. Let’s not forget that publishing is a mega-billion dollar industry at large. So why is that the money has to just flow freely between the top 1%?
I think that good writing has value and innate worth. A writer’s hard work, process, and ideas also have value and deserve to be compensated. The lit mag industry cannot die a bleak death. Each year, lit mags go defunct but so many more sprout up. The willpower is there. The desire is there. For new platforms. New voices. New styles. New mediums. There is so much new, lively energy in this world. And honestly, we’re just at the beginning. There are so many places a lit mag can go now. So many avenues to explore. Karan and I (and now also Justine, our Managing Editor) did not want to remain tied to the same old models, waiting for our share of breadcrumbs every year. We want to be a part of the change — innovate, improve, or at least freakin’ die trying.
Otherwise, why do any of it? Neither of us like to beat horses. We’re lit-equestrians, baby.
I really enjoyed reading this. Thanks. I and a few other writers I know are very business-minded and ask ourselves questions about how the industry is set up all the time. One of the reasons it can be difficult to innovate is because the publishing industry is often so opaque. Good for you for trying a new model. I wish you the best of luck!
Best wishes, Shannan and Karan. You've got something good going here.