Diary of a Mad Editor

I guess I’m a glutton for punishment because, don’t you know dear readers, I was back lurking on The Gaz again this morning. I clicked on a random discussion and lo and behold, more editor-bashing. A bunch of poets whining about publication guidelines, response times — you know the usual garbage writers complain about. One post, in particular, caught my eye — a post entitled, “Submissions Guidelines for Editors,” by a poet named Robert Schechter. This piece of happy horseshit pretty much sized up what I automatically believe writers think about editors in general and why my own submission guidelines are so brutally explicit. But let’s see what Bobby-boy has to say, then we’ll discuss it point-by-point:

Submission Guidelines for Editors

1. Simulaneous Submissions

You may consider other poems for publication while you are considering mine, but please inform me immediately if you decide to publish another poem.

2. Best Work

You understand that not everything I write is my best work, but that, by the same token, you are not the best magazine. Accordingly, you understand that I will send you merely adequate work, from time to time, as befits the status of your publication.

3. Translations

If you accept a translation of an original poem that is not in the public domain, you will be responsible for securing permissions and paying any fees. I am not your personal secretary, paralegal, or assistant, and it is up to you to take care of all administrative matters.

4. Contributor Copies

I will not accept just one contributor copy. Since you will certainly have at least three or four hundred copies left over when you fulfill all subscriptions and special orders, the least you can do is give contributors four or five copies for their efforts.

5. Rejections

You need not offer critique along with any poems you reject, since I am not looking to you for lessons but for publication only. Under no circumstances will you put solicitations, advertising or promotional material into the envelope. I did not give you the SASE so you could send me junk mail.

6. Consideration of My Work

While considering my poems, you must agree (a) to unfold the paper so the entire text is visible, (b) to turn off the television and/or the radio, and (c) not to be engaged in conversation.

1. Simultaneous submissions. I believe I’ve said plenty about this practice in the past but I guess it always bears repeating. The reason editors do not like simultaneous submissions is simple: They lead to simultaneous acceptances. What happens to the editor who accepts something then is told he can’t use it? He has a hole to fill in his publication. This can be a minor inconvenience or it can be a major disaster depending on how much work that editor has done on an issue and how close to the publication deadline he is. It’s unfair to the editor, but more importantly it’s unfair to the other writers who are in the issue because the extra aggravation on the editor’s part causes delays. Then the other writers write an email to complain and the editor is expected to drop what he is doing to placate them. This is bad enough when a writer follows proper procedure when simultaneously submitting work, it’s all but unforgivable when the writer doesn’t bother informing the editor in the first place that it’s a simultaneous submission and the editor is blind-sided. That Bobby-boy would make a cutting joke out of the this says something about his low character. Having been burned by writers in the past, I can assure you it’s not funny.

2. This one kills me, because I’ve known from the beginning of my tenure as an editor that when an otherwise publishable writer submits substandard work it’s a form of insult. See, I read other ezines and literary journals. I’m well-versed on who they publish and the quality of the work they publish. When a writer sends something to me that’s not on par with other items I’ve read by that writer in other publications, I know he’s telling me that he doesn’t think much of my publication or my credentials as an editor. And you know what? I’ll reject that son of a bitch without reservation or hesitation, I don’t care who they are or who they think they are. And if they continue to submit work and it continues to be substandard, I’ll keep on rejecting them until they show me some goddamn respect — enough respect to send me something I’m not ashamed to have within my pages. The point isn’t what that writer thinks of my publication and the quality of his own work. The point is what I think of my own publication and the quality of his work. I figure it this way: If he doesn’t respect me, what’s my respect worth to him. And besides, isn’t part of an editor’s job to challenge writers to be better writers? Am I wrong?

3. I think the point is, I’m not your secretary, Bobby-boy. It has always been the responsibility of writers to obtain necessary permissions, licenses, whathaveyou prior to publication. It has never been and never will be the job of the editor to do this.

4. Bobby-boy, since you have absolutely no clue what it costs to run even a modest publishing enterprise, allow me to educate you: it costs a nice chunk of change. Most of us don’t make a dime from publishing nobodies like you. At the risk of sounding trite, it is a labor of love — although it’s a lot like loving the wrong kind of woman, if you catch my drift. Don’t kid yourself. Those of us who pay in contributor’s copies pay what we can afford to pay — and how many copies you get is determined by just that. We have to at least recoup our investment to live to publish another day. If we gave extra copies to every writer beyond what is economically sound we wouldn’t stay afloat very long. Ask any small press publisher who has been way too generous that way — oh wait, you can’t because none of them are still around.

5. Well, I can’t speak for other editors — I myself have never included “junk mail” in with rejection slips. And to be honest, as a writer, I can only recall a few editors over 20+ years who have done that to me. However, so what, that’s what trash cans are for. As for providing feedback, whatever you say hoss, but I’ve read some of your poems and maybe you’d benefit from a few lessons.

6. I don’t even know what I should say about this one. It’s just too fucking ignorant. The implication that we lowly editors are so cavalier about reading your submissions that we allow ourselves to be distracted by the least diversion. It’s an insult, no doubt. For the record, I don’t even answer the phone while I read submissions. It’s numerous encounters with egocentric nutsacks like you that made the “mad editor” mad to begin with.

The thing is Bobby-boy, all any editor owes you is a fair read of what you submit. Nothing more. Nothing less. Unless that editor specifically asked you to submit in the first place because he really really likes your poems, you are just another member of the slush pile, deserving of no more than any other member of the slush pile. You are not special. You are not a shooting star. And if you don’t like the way things are done — start your own damn literary journal and let’s see how long you last among the sharks. Because it’s a whole different view from this side of the desk.