April Publication Roundup

April has been an incredibly productive month for the Women Who Submit members, who have published far and wide. I’m awed by the gorgeous writing they’ve put out there in the world, and in incredible journals. For all writers, I’ve included an excerpt from their published pieces (if available) and a link to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety.

Let’s celebrate these authors for their accomplishments in the month of April!

Continue reading “April Publication Roundup”

Breathe and Push: “Let’s Wait Awhile”

by Noriko Nakada

As the world begins to peel and crack itself back open, whether we’re ready for it or not, whether we choose to enter or not, I am reminding myself of those early days of the pandemic. The world slammed on the brakes to keep us safe, and for the past year I stopped racing to work each morning. I stopped racing to that reading or panel. I stopped racing to pick up the kids, or take them practice, or stop for a quick errand.

My life transitioned to a pandemic pace, and there was nowhere to go. No errand was quick, and lines wrapped around buildings. Everything required time and patience. What opened up during the shutdown was time for resting, and reading, and reflection. Too bad the stress, anxiety, and fear made even resting, reading, and reflection a struggle.

I’m not angry about it though. There is no right way to make it through a global pandemic. Surviving when we have lost three million is enough. After meditating on time, continuing to write, and burying a year, I am ready to take things slow.

Before I sprint back out, eager and unmasked to write my next story, I want to remember we are still in this global pandemic. I’m going to take a minute and listen to Janet Jackson: “Let’s Wait Awhile.”

This time at home has shown me I can slam on the brakes, close my eyes, and breathe.

“Let’s wait awhile (slow it down).”

I have learned that if a line in a poem, a paragraph in an essay, or a chapter in a novel isn’t sitting well, it can sit on the shelf. I can send it to trusted readers, or re-read, and revise until all rests in its proper place.

“Let’s wait awhile, before it’s too late.”

We can take our time. We all really can, so before I rush this essay onto the Women Who Submit site: “Let’s wait awhile. Before we go too far.”

black and white headshot of Noriko Nakada

Noriko Nakada writes, parents, and teaches middle school in Los Angeles. She is the author of the Through Eyes Like Mine memoir series. Excerpts, essays, and poetry have been published in Kartika, Catapult, Meridian, Hippocampus and elsewhere. She edits Breathe and Push for Women Who Submit.

Writing On a Budget: When Writing is Your Business

By Cybele Garcia Kohel

We writers are a lonely crew. Well, at least that is how we are depicted. And this is true much of the time, when we are at work. We seek time alone in bits and stretches to get our work done. Writers often fail to see ourselves as part of a larger picture, however: The Creative Economy. We are part of a larger engine which moves sums of money, large and small, around our communities. I can predict what you are thinking. I don’t get paid to do my writing… yet. I understand. I am the same. I don’t get paid to do my creative writing. But I do get paid to write grants. I consider that to be creative work, but it isn’t my personal creative work. And, I am lucky and grateful to get so much support from Women Who Submit for my creative writing work.

Women and non-binary writers are constantly doing the work of mothering writing–nurturing it–giving feedback, writing reviews, editing for our friends and small organizations that we help to survive. It’s not monetized, these bits of work. None of it. But it is still our Business (yes capital B) and we should be strategic about it. This isn’t a plea to get you to stop your unpaid work. Besides, there are other types of compensation. The support we give to community-centered organizations ensures that marginalized people and voices are heard. That compensation is satisfactory to me a lot of the time. This column is really an encouragement to recognize we are part of a bigger picture, a business sector, and as a business people we should be watching trends, downshifts, upshifts, etc., so we can be ready when opportunity comes knocking.

So how do we do that? In California we are lucky to have something called The Otis Report for the Creative Economy . The Otis Report is an idea hatched by administrators at Otis College for Art and Design to map the creative economy of Southern California, and set out to prove American’s for the Arts adage: Arts Means Business. The idea behind the report started as an argument for the “why” behind Arts Education, and, the why “having a vibrant arts sector” is important in every community. Because arts jobs are viable, even critical, to thriving communities. The Otis Report has been around since 2007 and has blossomed into an examination of the creative economy across California. And you, writer, are part of it.

Each year The Otis Report comes out in February or March. It is free to attend the presentation, or download the report, or view the synopsis of the report. I encourage you to do so. Writers may have a hard time finding themselves in the report. But we are there. The report is divided into different sectors, and we are in the Entertainment and Digital Media sector. This sector according to The Otis Report, is the largest of the five sectors, weighing in at 57,120 businesses. That includes micro-businesses (you and me) to large newspapers like the Los Angeles Times. It goes on to say that, “establishments with less than 10 employees account for 10% of the industry’s workforce.” Taking a look at this report may help you make writing decisions for the future. We are artists, and of course we should be paid for our work. Sometimes it is a stipend, an honorarium, a royalty. Sometimes the compensation is the community that is built. That’s okay.

But never forget you are an important part of something bigger. See yourself in it. Because if you don’t, who will?


Cybele Garcia Kohel is a Puerto Rican (Borikén Taíno) writer living on unceded Tongva land, called Pasadena, California. She writes poetry, short stories and essays, in a loud voice from the margins. She is a mom and fierce dog lover. You can read her individual poems the Altadena Poetry Review (2017, 2018), New American Legends (2019), Screaming from the Silence Anthology (Vociferous Press, 2020), the Women Who Submit anthology, Accolades (2020), and the Altadena Literary Review (2020). Her latest essay is Acknowledgement: On Race and Land, read it online at Cultural Weekly. https://www.culturalweekly.com/acknowledgement-on-race-and-land/