Editing a literary magazine is not always very much fun. What fun there is usually comes with that all-too-brief warm fuzzy feeling of satisfaction and pride the moment an issue is published. The rest of the time you are reading submissions from all kinds of writers from all points on the globe — everyone from distracted housewives and sexually-frustrated teenagers to college professors of arcane subjects and toothless, inbred motherfuckers who live in parts where they have to worry about motorhome insurance who wouldn’t know what a dictionary looked like if the sky cracked thunder and it started raining dictionaries. Submissions of varying qualities and styles, all in an effort to fill open slots in future issues. Most of the time that is a grind. Most of the time, what you have to read is mediocre, uninspired, garbage. Sometimes it’s even worse than that. And then, occasionally, if you are willing to sift through the refuse, something hard and shiny appears in the darkness — a story by a very young writer who you think, "Yeah, this is what I’m looking for." And in that moment, that fleeting, but familiar feeling returns.
Case in point: One Morgan von Ancken, a promising young writer who, just last week submitted a story that I’d decided to publish:
Dear John C. Erianne,
Enclosed, please find my story, "A Study of the Circular Velocity of a
Shooting Star," for your review. It’s an optimistic story about the subtle
way that life repeats, regardless of death, time, or page limits. I’ve
pasted it below, and attached it as a .doc to this email.I’m a 23-year-old writer and musician who lives in New York City. I studied
English at Vassar College in Poughkeepsie, NY, and while I have had numerous
pieces published in various student publications and blogs, this is the
first piece of fiction I have ever submitted to a literary magazine. I wrote
most of it in the back of my band’s van driving up to play a festival in
Maine, looking out the window at the stars, amazed at how bright they were
compared to the city.
I know it’s a leap of faith to seriously consider work from someone who
hasn’t been already published, so thanks in advance for reading. I hope you
enjoy the story.Cheers,
Morgan von Ancken
Admittedly, I didn’t decide to publish it upon my first reading of it. My first reading of it, I thought it more cubic zirconium than actual diamond, but found enough good stuff in the story that it merited another reading. The story grew on me and I read it a third time and decided I really did like the story and I liked the idea of publishing a story by a young writer no one had ever heard of before. So, I immediately fired-off an email accepting the story. von Ancken’s subsequent reply was unexpected to say the least:
Hi John,
That’s great to hear! I’m glad you enjoyed the story. If I publish it with
you, you get first rights and Internet archival rights, correct? I’m very
new at this, and I also sent the story out to a few other places. When do
you need my final decision by?Again, I’m very excited, and thanks for reading. I’m going to go buy some
new red shoes in celebration.Cheers,
Morgan
Final decision? What the fuck? There was a time, five or ten years ago, when I would have become so angry over such a response, I would’ve thrown a chair across the room and told this young writer to immediately go fuck himself. First of all, he’s telling me that his story is a simultaneous submissions — something he didn’t see fit to mention in his initial cover letter. Second of all, while he may be young, he expects me to believe that he’s so new to the process he really doesn’t understand when a publisher agrees to publish a writer’s work, that writer is expected to license certain copyrights to that publisher for that purpose? No, when a writer pulls this kind of crap, it’s a power-play. I read this, I’m thinking, this guy wants to have his cake and eat it too. He doesn’t want to grant me any exclusive rights to publish his story because he’s hoping for the bigger, better deal. He wants one of those other publishers to grab-up his story, but he doesn’t want to let go of a sure thing until he’s sure the other magazines have rejected it. I’ve been down this road before — usually the writer doesn’t even tell you it’s a simultaneous submission. Usually, they tell you right before the issue is to be published and they withdraw the story at the last minute.
This dude wants me to give him time. Time . . . well, as I said, there was a time when . . . . But I’ve mellowed somewhat in the past few years. Still, I’d have to be a half-wit not to see his power-play for what it was, so I gave him 48 hours to make up his mind — after which, he’d automatically lose his spot in the issue. That way, I wouldn’t have to worry about getting blindsided a second time, have him pull the story at the last minute. I figured, he’d consider that the smart thing to do is agree to allow me to publish his story as a bird in the hand is worth more than two in the bush. But, no, this was his reply:
Hi John,
Well, I thought about this [translation: I made up my mind the moment you accepted my story, but didn't quite know how to express myself], and I think that I need to see how the piece fares in the world at large [translation: I sent my story to more prestigious literary magazines than yours and I'd rather make my literary debut in one of them]. This may be dumb [translation: I know it's dumb and a bit of a gamble, but I'm a rather ambitious and calculating individual and I believe in order to win big, you have to gamble big], and it’s almost certainly a little arrogant,[translation: I think I'm a really talented guy and being as you seem to agree, I think I can do better for myself] but the truth is that I expected to hear from you months after I submitted, and your quick response caught me unaware[translation: in other words, you were my last choice and I thought I'd get accepted elsewhere before I'd have to deal with you]. I literally just mailed the thing off to a myriad of other print mags and online pubs.[translation: see previous translation.]
Once I start getting rejection letters, I’m sure I’ll be kicking myself.[translation: I don't really expect to get any rejection letters.]
Anyways, I’m obviously grateful for your consideration, and it’s incredibly encouraging to me that someone with such literary acumen enjoyed my writing. [translation: if you liked my story, I have to believe an editor with even more literary acumen than you will see my genius.] I also plan on submitting my future work to you (although whether you choose to read it or not is up to you). [translation: I don't really anticipate communicating with you again unless I actually do meet with lots and lots of rejection and have to lower my expectations accordingly and I do not expect that you will want to read my future stories . . . although, if I do submit again, I probably won't make the mistake of sending you a really, really good story since I might have to withdraw it, so I'd only send you stuff others have rejected, figuring you probably won't know the difference and would hope you can forget about the time I made a horse's ass out of myself at your expense.]
Hope you understand![translation: If you don't, I don't really give a fuck] Best of luck with the next issue. [translation: although it probably won't be as good an issue without my story in it.]
Cheers,
Morgan von Ancken
So, because I obviously wasn’t his first choice and because I was a little too timely in my response, I get penalized? He’s basically telling me to go fuck myself, but he’s just so cheery about it, it kind of makes my skin crawl. Talk about damning with faint praise! My "literary acumen"? Damn skippy! But that doesn’t mean you can use me as a litmus test just so you can peddle your story elsewhere. The fact that Mr. von Ancken seems to understand that he did something wrong makes his decision all the more disappointing. I have my doubts about him ever submitting another story to me as I have my doubts about ever reading another story written by him. It’s actually my policy not to read future submissions by writers who pull this kind of crap. If they’d do it once, you can’t trust them not to do it again and I really, really don’t like having my time wasted. Besides, if I wasn’t good enough to publish his story this time around — and him with no other offers on the table, then I’m not good enough to publish any future stories he might send me. For my part, I’ve already replaced his story with another one so on one level . . . no harm, no foul. But, on a deeper level I still feel like throwing a chair across the room.
Barbara Brenner | 01-Oct-09 at 12:26 pm | Permalink
A toast to you John! Considering his story didn’t grab you on the first read through; considering it took three (count ‘em… three) readings for you to even consider publishing his little story; and after reading his missives, and considering his age?
Seems this guy has a little growing to do, cause he sure doesn’t have much of a story.
Cheers!
Barnaby Simms | 01-Oct-09 at 12:34 pm | Permalink
I think you whine too much. You take so much pride in rejecting writers that it’s about time one of us rejected you.
John Erianne | 01-Oct-09 at 12:50 pm | Permalink
Well, Barnaby . . . I don’t know if I was “whining” but let’s say I am whining — I feel I have just cause. No, I don’t take pride in rejecting other writers, but a)It’s impossible to publish every writer who submits and b)I do have standards.
Be that as it may, like I said, I don’t appreciate having my time wasted. The time I spent reading and evaluating this writer’s story was time that would have been better devoted elsewhere under the circumstances, wouldn’t you agree?
For my part, despite my disappointment, I sincerely hope Mr. Von Ancken does well whether you believe that or not. That being said, I have every right to be unhappy with how things turned out. While you may see his decision as somehow empowering, I just see it as a newbie mistake from someone who still has much to learn.
Ms Baroque | 03-Oct-09 at 7:21 am | Permalink
Wow. That’s some story.
Barnaby, it’s not about whining. The kid was arrogant and RUDE, practically dishonest in the first email, and – from the point of view of this reader – has damaged his credibility fatally.
He’s working the business angle so hard, it’s got to be more about “being a writer” for him than “writing.” He’s fresh from the little bubble of entitlement called MFA-world, and full of careerist ideas, and doesn’t even see any shame in exposing it. You say he knows he’s done something wrong, but he’s not ashamed of it enough to NOT DO IT.
He thinks he already knows everything. Well, he’ll learn, when the New Yorker and McSweeneys both say no.
Everybody’s sent simultaneous submissions. Even to places that say they don’t take them. In fact, I was told by a very distinguished writing tutor – it was for poetry, not stories, but same diff – “At this stage in your career you can’t AFFORD to send it to only one place, then wait six months, then send it out again.” But there are little rules. Like, you take the first one who accepts it. I’ve never had anything accepted by more than one place, so I’ve never had to deal with that issue, but I think to safeguard against disappointment you’d send it to, say, three places where you don’t much mind which one takes it. There are a couple of stories of poets in the UK winning, say, the National Poetry Competition with poems that had – oops! – just been published somewhere else. They had the grace to be embarrassed, and in one case I think she’d completely forgotten she’d entered it… so that was more about admin.
Anyway, great story, and it confirms what we already knew: an education may be a wonderful thing, but there’s no substitute for life!
Ms Baroque | 03-Oct-09 at 7:22 am | Permalink
Oops, I appear to be talking to just Barnaby in that comment! Hi John, I meant YOU say he knows he’s done something wrong. Anyway I think giving us the emails was a brilliant stroke. Very illuminating.
John Erianne | 03-Oct-09 at 8:25 am | Permalink
Thanks for reading, Katy. You hit the nail on the head, I think. The issue was never about the simultaneous submissions, but that he lied about it. That, having been offered an acceptance by me, he couldn’t just take “yes” for an answer and tell those other publications that his story had been accepted elsewhere. My own submission guidelines are very explicit on the subject of simultaneous submissions and I’ve certainly covered the subject enough on this blog in the past.
Morgan is a living, breathing example of why many editors don’t take younger writers seriously.
John Boughn | 05-Oct-09 at 3:32 pm | Permalink
I don’t know, judging from the emails above i just read I don’t really see this kid lying about anything. I also don’t think he was trying to be rude, I think it was probably just his first attempt at publishing something and he was feeling his way through it.
I know you must’ve been frustrated, but to me it would seem the more classless thing to do is to eviscerate the young guy on your blog, John!!!
John Erianne | 05-Oct-09 at 5:01 pm | Permalink
1.) In his initial email, he didn’t inform me that his submission had been simultaneously sent to other publications — by definition that is a lie by omission.
2.) Obviously, you’re not a regular reader of this blog. This is certainly not the first time I’ve eviscerated a writer and it probably won’t be the last. And, for the record: I was nice to the when I accepted the his story. I was nice to him when I took the time to explain things to him because I, too, initially believed his was “feeling his way through.” I was nice to him when I gave him an extra 48 hours to mull the situation over. But there is a limit to how nice, patient and classy I’m willing to be and his free pass expired the moment he withdrew his story. Also, FYI — I’ve never maligned or otherwise retaliated against a writer who followed the correct protocol for simultaneous submissions.
melisa | 05-Oct-09 at 7:59 pm | Permalink
Now I’ve got an idea how some publishers react at such submissions… ^^
Publishers have the right to scrutinize and pour out their intense reactions over submitted materials that happen to be unfit for publication in whatever way, but I think it’s unkind to print the writer’s full name here (and his emails)–if indeed that was his real name–with this post filled with lots of negative remarks.
On the other hand, writers should always inform publishers from the very beginning of correspondence that they also submitted the same material to other publishers.
But personally I’d rather send the material to only one publisher, then wait and follow up. I know they’re always busy, but I think they should be able to at least acknowledge that the hard copy and cover letter I sent finally reached their office.
Where is J. Jonah Jameson When You Need Him? | Diary of a Mad Editor | 08-Oct-09 at 7:09 pm | Permalink
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