Somebody’s Gotta Do It
Dear Mr. Erianne:
I have recently become the poetry editor of a fledging literary publication and am having a rather difficult time rejecting poets. My publisher is becoming impatient as I’ve yet to respond to a single submission. The problem is that I don’t think any of the poems I’ve received so far are very good, but I can’t bring myself to reject them because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Since you obviously don’t share this problem, I was wondering if you could help me out.
Sincerely,
Timid Poetry Editor
Dear Timid:
Help you out? What? Do you want me to do your job for you? You do understand that rejecting writers is part of the job description. It’s not possible to publish everyone who submits work to your publication — even if everything you receive is golden, you can’t publish it all. Space in any literary magazine, whether in print or online, is finite. Finding the best material possible is part of the process, but so is finding material that fits into the allotted space. Sound, pitiless judgment is necessary. If you are incapable of exercising that sort of judgment perhaps you should just tell the publisher that you can’t handle the job and quit, thereby giving the publisher the chance to replace you with someone who can do the job.
That being said, probably every new editor struggles with delivering bad news to hopeful writers when they first start out. Believe it or not, even I had a problem with it when I started out — I still rejected writers, mind you, but I felt bad about it. You find, though, that handing out rejections is kind of like committing murder: the more you do it, the easier it gets. Hell, some writers will make it easy. Some of them have absolutely no respect for editors such as yourself. Others are like restless dogs constantly begging for attention and humping your leg.
Unfortunately, I had the misfortune early in my tenure as a literary editor of losing my temper with a poet who was (and I assume, still is) a total asshole. Thus, the legend of “The Mad Editor” was born. Though that reputation is somewhat exaggerated based on a few incidents over the years where I went King Kong on someone’s ass — I have no problem playing the monster when it suits me. You don’t have to be that kind of poetry editor — but what you can’t be is timid.
You can be somewhat nice about it. For example, you could word your rejection slips something like this:
Dear [name]:
While I certainly do appreciate the time and energy that went into your poems, and the courage it took to submit them to me, I am unable to accept them at this time. It’s not a personal reflection on you, just that your work doesn’t meet the needs of our publication. I wish you all the best in your future endeavors.
signed,
Timid Poetry Editor
See? That’s not so bad, is it? The vast majority of poets will not be offended by this. And the ones who are bothered? You may find, as I have, that it’s very easy to slam them. Hell, it’s even fun. The point is you have to clear your desk one way or another. That’s the job. Some days you will be fortunate enough to receive something you can happily accept. Most days, however, the job is to reject, reject, reject. How you achieve the end result is up to you. What you need to do is find your own style and always follow your own drummer. Trust yourself and grow a spine, Timid. That’s all I can tell you. Good luck.
