If You Haven’t Heard from Me in Awhile, It Probably Means I’m Dead
Published February 10th, 2000 | 
Probably, many of you can identify with this scenario:
Poetry Lady neatly prepares a nice little bundle of five of her best poems to submit to We Could Give a Damn Review and off it goes into the mail where it is delivered into a little metal box by Mr. Postman (who’s really very nice and thinks postal workers have gotten a bad rap). Mr. Laid Back Editor, Jerk-off Joe, eventually picks-up his mail after about 6 months and a ski trip to Vermont. He throws the pile on his desk, makes a mental note to read the pile later, but after a split with his girlfriend decides he can’t deal with his life or his litmag and closes his box, sub-lets his apartment and is off to Las Vegas where he plans to be a professional poker player or a pimp, assuming that novel about his ex-girlfriend doesn’t sell to the pictures. Anyway, by this time, Poetry Lady has already fired-off a few letters and has decided maybe it’s time to try the poems elsewhere. This is an all too common scenario, of course, and Poetry Lady probably should have given up sooner.
Personally, I could never understand an editor taking anymore time with a submission than he has to. Most poems will be rather easy to reject. It takes no more than a minute to recognize a piece of crap a shove it back into an envelope. He knows he’s going to reject it — why drag it out? And, why would any editor wait until he is drowning in paper before he answers those submissions? Yet, it happens all the time. I recall one editor stating that it took him and his cohort a whole year to go through 500 submissions. Are you kidding me? What, was he transcribing the dead sea scrolls? It’s ridiculous. My own turn-over on submissions is usually anywhere from 1 to 4 weeks on snail mail submissions and usually 72 hours on electronic submissions. This is average. Sometimes, I’m a little quicker on the draw and sometimes I’m running maybe a behind. Exactly if and when your submission was received and the distance between your locale and the editor can play a significant role in this equation. However, to be fair, take into account that the editor has a life outside of reading your work, and give that editor a couple of months before firing off a letter asking what’s going on. If he fails to give you immediate action, you should consider the submission free and clear to circulate elsewhere. Some things to consider:
Always remember to include a self-addressed stamped envelope when you do submit as that will increase your odds of receiving a speedy reply. Make sure the submission envelope has the correct address. Even if an editor like Jerk-off Joe accepts your work, you have to understand that an acceptance is no guarantee of publication. These little publications close their doors all the time and if you happen to be waiting in the wings when they fold, you are shit out of luck. This is especially true of fly-by-night zines like Jerk-off Joe’s, so do your research before submitting. The longer they’ve been in operation, the more likely they are a live, functioning publication with long-term plans to publish new work.
So What, You Are a Poet? No One Cares
Published February 9th, 2000 | “For unlawful carnal knowledge it then…a true artist of even the lowest caliber or denominator would respond to sincerity, honesty, and aesthetics with the same…’sorry, no’…is the response of the masses. thank you for reaffirming my misanthropic views. later, bubba. ARTIFICIAL ASSES DEFECATE SUPERFICIAL SHIT ” –Donnie Strickland
It’s almost inevitable these days, that some 20-something would-be word artist will fill up several spiral notebooks of his deepest most personal thoughts and decide that he is the second coming of American Poetry. Of course, his friends and his latest girlfriend tell him so. “You’re the next Bukowski,” they say. They trail after him from one open mic to another to cheer him on. Soon enough, his sheltered ego is pumped-up to a level normally reserved for the gods on high Olympus and he gets it into his head that he’d be doing the world a favor by sending his brilliance out to various publications whose editors, he feels, will finally understand what he and his friends already know — that he’s the one we’ve all been holding our breath for.
“Tell me what you think of my poems,” he asks, certain that the editor will do hand springs and salivate with a gushing mouthful of praise.
Imagine his anger and confusion when the editor doesn’t respond with praise. Rejection, especially an unkind rejection is a definite shock to the system. Maybe the young man does have talent, but lacks discipline. Maybe the young man isn’t a writer at all, but only likes the idea of being a writer. These are the questions, the young man needs to answer for himself and he can only do this if he is freed from all illusions.
Whether the young man likes what the editor has to say or not is irrelevant. What is relevant is what the young man chooses to do with the sudden revelation that he isn’t the talent he thought he was. He could fixate on the notion that the editor is an ass, but that won’t help the young man write better poems. Rather, the young man should focus on the poems themselves and see that rejection as an opportunity to learn. In order to get anywhere, one must first free himself of the idea that’s he’s already arrived at his destination. There are bridges to cross and tolls to be paid and to believe otherwise is foolish.
