Follow the Guidelines or You May Find Yourself Falling Ass Over Head into a Canyon
Written by John Erianne on September 14, 2006 – 4:09 pm -Submission Guidelines. People bitch about my submission guidelines. I bitch about people who don’t follow my submission guidelines. People bitch about my bitching, etc. It is a viscious cycle. Some writers act like submission guidelines are completely unnecessary — as if editors make up guidelines just to be difficult.
I recall about seven years back some contributing editor from The Writer was interviewing literary editors on the subject of submissions — how writers could improve their chances of being published. This woman contacted me on the subject. She was immediately defensive and said, “I don’t want to hear the usual garbage about submission guidelines.” This struck me as an odd thing for her to say. I couldn’t really answer her without getting into submission guidelines. Let’s say writer ‘A’ submits a well-written, very publishable story that meets the needs of a publication. Unfortunately, ‘A’ has submitted this story on toilet tissue and written in feces. Let’s say writer ‘B’ submits an equally well-written piece that meets the needs of the publication. Now ‘B’ has followed the submission guidelines to the letter: a neatly typed story with proper headings and margins on the proper bond paper. The editor, on this given day, only has space for one story. Which one should he accept — the story that has been submitted properly and respectfully or the one that is literally made from shit? I think you see my point. Submission Guidelines exist for the mutual benefit of editor and writer. They simplify the submission process by instructing the writer as to the proper method for sending material so no one’s time is wasted. If a writer understands the needs of a publication and how best to present his work, his chances of being accepted are increased — not guaranteed, mind you. Following guidelines gives a writer at least a chance of being accepted, whereas not following guidelines gives a writer no chance.
So what was I suppose to tell this woman if she didn’t want to hear about submission guidelines? Did she expect me to show her a secret handshake? A magic word guaranteeing acceptance? What I can do — all I can do for a writer is show him how to present his work so that I take him seriously, and read his submission with some care. That’s it and that’s all I told her.
What this woman didn’t seem to get is that no one can teach a writer talent. If a writer is inherently talentless, I can’t make him into a published writer. And as far as that goes, talent only gets a writer so far. He still has to hone his skills and persevere in the face of near-certain failure. What am I supposed to do? Tell the writer to proofread? If that writer didn’t get that from going to school, he’s not likely to listen to me. Should I teach him how to write? Again, I’m an editor, not an English teacher. Why should I instruct him in the art of writing a sentence? I assume those who submit to me already know the fundamentals. If they don’t, they shouldn’t be submitting in the first place.
Needless to say, she didn’t use my comments. In fact, I’m not sure the article ever ran in the magazine.
