Women Who Share: Désirée Zamorano on Daily Goals and the Power of Conferences

In 1997, more years ago than I care to admit to, I attended a Bouchercon mystery conference and listened to the writer Patricia Sprinkle speak about the “seasons” in a writer’s life. At that time I had two small children, taught 5th grade, and had committed myself to carve time out of my day to write. But, I had given myself a daily quota that I was daily unable to make. I goaded, scolded and loathed myself for not accomplishing my daily goal, day after day after day. When Ms. Sprinkle spoke, she reminded her audience of the different seasons in our lives, to recognize and honor them. I took her words in, deeply. I vowed not to beat myself up for missing arbitrary targets.

Continue reading “Women Who Share: Désirée Zamorano on Daily Goals and the Power of Conferences”

Closing the Gap: On Confidence and Community

by Ramona Pilar

Reposted with permission from our friends at Lumen Magazine, where this article was first published on August 5, 2015.

Women Who Submit was born out of a reaction to a couple of gross injustices: a) women are not being published as often nor as broadly as men, and b) women may not be submitting or resubmitting their work as often as men. Men and women of color are published to an even lesser degree.  The founders of Women Who Submit took this information, acknowledged it, and asked themselves what could be done to change this?

The Atlantic published an article called “The Confidence Gap” which posed the idea that “… there is a particular crisis for women—a vast confidence gap that separates the sexes. Compared with men, women don’t consider themselves as ready for promotions, they predict they’ll do worse on tests, and they generally underestimate their abilities. This disparity stems from factors ranging from upbringing to biology.” In their research, authors Katty Kay and Claire Shipman found that women will tend to psyche themselves out of opportunities if they don’t feel close to, if not perfectly suited for the opportunity while men did not have that particular issue.

While there are exceptions to generalizations, there was enough of a commonality to infer that a lack of confidence was one of the reasons why women weren’t submitting their work for publication as often as men.

Confidence is something I personally struggle with when it comes to writing, much less submitting my work for publication. There are layers upon layers of experiences that have transformed me from the bravado-fueled fireball I was in adolescence (my most prolific writing years to date) into a domesticated housecat who refuses to come out from under the bed, shiny eyes reflecting at you from the furthest corner, resigned to remain planted until I’m good and ready to come out.

I’ve been an active member of Women Who Submit for about two years. In that time I’ve submitted work to a total of maybe 10 places. Which, comparatively speaking, is a fraction of a fraction of the amount of submissions other members have followed through on. But comparison is not the point and has never been the point. What brings me closer to crawling out of the safe, uneventful, under-the-bed darkness is being around women who have navigated out of that safe crawl space. Women who have more experience submitting than I do.

The trick, I’ve learned, is to focus on what is actually within my control rather than on being accepted. I can control the content I create, the journals I submit to, the frequency with which I submit pieces. There is not one way to do anything. For example, I’ve acquired four different versions of cover letters to send with submissions. Each of them different and each of the women who shared them with me had success with her version and their reasons why they stuck by it. Hearing sometimes contradictory advice lets me know that the point cannot be about acceptance. That is a faulty, foul gauge of success. The point is to commit to submitting or getting my work ready to submit, at whatever pace feels comfortable for me. Cats don’t live under the bed forever.

The mere act of getting together with committed frequency, either in person or virtually, via Skype or checking in via email, matters. That sense of community is paramount to success, for me individually, and for the overarching goal of working towards gender parity in publishing.

Confidence isn’t some magic superpower only a chosen few are anointed with at birth. It’s something that comes from tangible practicality, from looking at a daunting task and knowing it can be broken down into easily digestible, easily completed tasks. I am inspired by and grateful to the women who have demystified submission by showing me how it’s done.


953012fc-9c9a-4fd6-a657-4393b5e68787Ramona Pilar is a writer, performer, emotional fluffer and native Californian. She is currently working on a collection of essays entitled “Darth Vader Abandoned his Daughter and Other Thoughts Along The Heroine’s Journey.” She can occasionally be found troubadouring with her band The Raveens.

Closing the Gap: DON’T CHEAT. YOU CAN STILL GET PUBLISHED.

Back in September, The New Republic published an article entitled, “Cheat! It’s the Only Way to Get Published.” but not everyone was so convinced. Here is one rebuttal from writer, Rachael Warecki reposted here from Zoetic Press, first published October 5, 2015.

First, let me say that I’m aware I have several legs up in the literary world just by dint of being white, middle-class, over-educated, and employed in a white-collar job. My family and friends have always been supportive of my desire to write, even when they haven’t understood it; I’ve never had anyone tell me that writing is something I shouldn’t do. I have time, space, and a room of my own: in many ways, to many people, the life I lucked into could be considered its own literary cheat.

In the fall of 2011, though, I was recovering from several serious medical issues, unemployed, and in the middle of my first semester as a graduate student in Antioch University Los Angeles’ MFA program. (In the spirit of encouraging fellow emerging writers, it’s perhaps pertinent to add that I did not just sail into an MFA program; Antioch accepted me off the waitlist.) I didn’t have any literary connections to recommend my work. I didn’t have any prestige-journal stationery on which I could write my cover letters. While looking for literary magazines that might publish my short stories, I noticed a call for submissions for the inaugural issue of The Masters Review, a lit mag that—at that time—was only open to writers attending grad school.

Back then, my assets consisted of my words, my classmates’ assurance that my stories were ready for publication, and the generosity of a literary magazine truly committed to helping new writers succeed. Because The Masters Review’s author demographic was so narrow, I thought my work might have a better chance of successfully making its way through the slush pile. As it turned out, I was right: my short story “The Rites of Summer” was published in The Masters Review’s 2012 issue.

In the years since, I’ve worked to build those post-slush literary relationships. I’ve kept in touch with one of The Masters Review’s editors, and I’ve continued to submit my work to their contests and anthologies, which have now expanded to include all emerging writers—not just those in MFA programs. My most recent submission, “10:25 a.m. EDT,” earned an honorable mention and a pending review from a top literary agency, which is an amazing career opportunity for which I’m eternally grateful.

More importantly, I’ve also continued to work those slush piles. Although I had zero relationships with any of the top-tier literary magazines, once I had work I thought was strong enough, I started shooting for the moon. Out of those long-shot submissions, I’ve received personal rejections and encouragement from fiction editors at Tin House, The Atlantic Monthly, Agni, Hayden’s Ferry Review, Blackbird, and PANK. I say this not to brag, but to point out that you can submit to slush piles of top-tier magazines and, if your work is a good enough fit, editors will start to pay long-term attention to you, even if you don’t have a list of previous publication credits or a fancy lit mag’s letterhead to back you up.

Here’s the rub, though: at the most basic level, if you want to be published without “cheating,” you need to be selective about what you send. Three years later, I’m still proud of “The Rites of Summer,” as I am of every story I’ve published, but I’ve also written stories that I’ve stopped submitting for now because I know they’re not yet strong enough for the markets in which I want to be published. Of my unpublished work, I have three “powerhouse” stories making the rounds of contests and top-tier literary magazines, but I also have five other stories, all written almost two years ago, that I’m still pumping up to that heavyweight level. Beyond that, everything else is unsalvageable for various reasons. That’s one of the most important lessons I’ve learned in my fledgling writing career: my work can be well-written and well-constructed, but it can still be too unoriginal, too white-bread, and/or too autobiographical to be publishable. Not everything is fit to print.

Which leads into the fact that you also need to be selective about where you send your work. If you’re an emerging writer, look for literary magazines that are committed to finding, publishing, and promoting emerging writers; that way, you won’t be competing for limited page space with the likes of Joyce Carol Oates and Adam Johnson. The Masters Review is a great place to submit since it’s only open to new voices, but many other top-tier publications, such as Glimmer Train and A Public Space, hold contests and grant fellowships specifically designed to attract new writers. If you’re working in a certain genre, submit to magazines that appreciate that genre rather than disdain it. If you think a certain publication might be a good fit for your work, get a hold of some back issues to make sure—even print journals usually have one or two stories available for free online.

The world of literary journals and publications can seem exclusive, insular, and elitist, and that reputation is in many ways deserved. But it’s not a completely impermeable membrane, and you don’t have to cheat to make inroads. Just be strategic and selective about your submissions, and don’t be afraid to cultivate relationships with other writers, wherever you may find them.


 

1091093_347757792022433_1818843801_oRachael Warecki received her MFA in Fiction from Antioch University Los Angeles. She is also an alumna of Scripps College, Loyola Marymount University, and the 2008 Teach for America Los Angeles corps. Her fiction has appeared in The Masters Review, Midwestern Gothic, The Los Angeles Review, and elsewhere. In her spare time, she enjoys rooting for the Cleveland Indians and the Ohio State Buckeyes. She is currently at work on a novel.

Claps and Cheers: Toni Ann Johnson Goes Audible

by Tisha Marie Reichle

-5Remedy for a Broken Angel (Nortia Press), the debut novel of award-winning screenwriter Toni Ann Johnson (Ruby Bridges and Crown Heights) was awarded 2015 Beverly Hills Book Award Multicultural Fiction, received an honorable mention at the New York Times book Festival, won 2015 International Latino Book Award for Most Inspirational Fiction, was a Finalist for Forward Reviews 2014 IndieFab Book of the Year Award for Multicultural Fiction, and was nominated for NAACP Image Award for Outstanding Literary Work by a Debut Author.

Johnson’s talent for setting a stage and framing a scene contribute to the book’s cinematic quality: each moment could be emblazoned in film for audiences to enjoy watching after reading the book or listening to Toni Ann read it on Amazon, Audible, and itunes.

Harmonious one minute and dissonant the next, jazz provides the resonant back beat for repeated fiascos. Johnson’s characters reveal how complicated life can become when married to a musician.

Serena, a singer, and Rico, a Latino trumpet player, have a passionate marriage and “she craved him …The way he played … the rasp in his voice, the mystery in his black eyes, his muscular arms, and tight bum.” Their heated battles followed by equally hot reconciliation reminds me of too many unfortunate loves long gone.

Unfortunately, as their daughter, Artie gets older, Rico grows distant. Serena blames Artie when she hears Rico playing her song for their daughter in a private concert. “Why’s he callin’ her his angel? That’s my bloody pet name … After fourteen years, she was having a hard time making sense of how the marriage had come to this. One thing she did understand quite clearly: she was not his angel anymore.” Johnson infuses Serena’s outbursts of agony with her lyrical Bermudian English which makes the audio version that features Toni Ann Johnson so much more memorable. If you don’t believe me, ask her family in Bermuda what they think.

A mother so broken is bound to cause her daughter’s most tangible grief, and there may be no hope for redemption. Tired of battling for her husband Rico’s attention, Serena leaves her only daughter on Artie’s twelfth birthday.

Shortly after, Papi moves them in with a distant cousin and Artie’s relationship with Kendall begins. I remember twelve-year-old love. New and clumsy, the uncertain first kiss when all I could think, like Artie, is Am I doing this right?

But all that innocence can’t last when Kendall is a jazz musician, too. A tenor sax player. They know how to use their tongues. In 2004, “Artie drove home late one night when her husband Kendall wasn’t expecting her…A spicy fragrance wafted out the window into her face. Opium. Her mother’s scent. … Artie hadn’t seen the monster in years, so she was shocked to find her reclining in the passenger seat with her dress hiked above her waist. Kendall was upside down; the six to her mother’s nine, his face buried between her thighs.”

Johnson alternates between Artie’s and Serena’s point of view conveying each woman’s discomfort with relationships and constant longing for love. Moving seamlessly from 2004 to 1990, from New York to Los Angeles Johnson explores the boundaries of familial love, creating characters whose pain and joy is palpable.

While some of Johnson’s earlier work focused on social injustices, Remedy for a Broken Angel concentrates on personal problems, resonating with all readers who have faced familial betrayal. Infused with the melodies of heartache and chords of pure loneliness, Johnson focuses on themes of fidelity and forgiveness, chaos and karma, all leading to an unexpected crescendo.


wwspanelglasses_258Weekdays Tisha Marie Reichle engages high school students with socially conscious literature. On weekends, she writes. Her stories have appeared in 34th Parallel, Inlandia Journal, Muse Literary Journal, Santa Fe Writers Project, and The Acentos Review. For 25 years, she has lived in Los Angeles and earned an MFA in Creative Writing at Antioch University. She is currently submitting her YA novel to agents and working a new book about cousins who struggle with cultural and sexual identity in Los Angeles. She was recently selected as fiction editor for Border Senses – submission will be open in January 2016.

Claps and Cheers: “Put Your Name On It”: Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo on Writing, Submitting, and Honoring Our Creative Work

WWS member, Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo was recently interviewed for La Bloga by Olga García Echeverría. She speaks about honoring her parents, hosting a reading series, finding time to write, and Women Who Submit. Here is an excerpt where she shares submission advice for writers of color and all writers looking to stay true to their work.

From: “Put Your Name On It”: Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo on Writing, Submitting, and Honoring Our Creative Work

Finding a “home” for a literary piece can be challenging, especially when we are bilingual and write in mixed languages. There is always so much negotiation (between the self and the page) that happens prior to sending something out. Should I even send this there? If I do send it out and it’s not a Latino journal, how much of the Spanish do I have to take out? etc. What advice can you give women writers out there who are grappling with some of these issues and questions?

I think my advice would be to make the best piece you possibly can, and try not to worry about who will take it. I know this is hard. I’m trying to do it right now with a YA novel I’m working on. My heroine is the daughter of migrant farm workers, and I’m always thinking, Is that too much Spanish? But I think we have to fight to stay true to who we are, and fight to stay true to the piece. Each piece is different and there is never one answer.

What I hope other poets do is write their hearts out, and make something that makes them proud, something they are proud to have their names on (like my father says), and then send it out. If you do that, I think you will find the right home for your work. I have an essay up at The James Franco Review right now where large chunks of dialogue are in Spanish. I definitely worried no one would take it, but then I found out about The James Franco Review. Based off of their mission and the work they had previously published I thought, if anyone is going to take a chance on this piece it’s this place. And then they did, which was amazing! So I think being true to yourself, and looking for those places who are open to what you are doing is key.

I think that even when we do make efforts to submit, though, it can be pretty discouraging, and it can also be expensive. Although it’s exciting to see more people of color presses and journals, it’s still a very White and very male-dominated literary world. We’ve made many gains, but the racism is institutionalized.

This is true, but we have to keep pushing ourselves into these spaces. I spent a month this summer at a residency that was very white, and it wasn’t always comfortable, but as one mujer told me recently, “So what’s our option? To not go? No!” Being there made it possible to finally write a first draft of a book I’ve had in my mind for years, so no, we can’t stop doing it. But this is something I’ve been thinking about with Women Who Submit. We want to support women trying to move up into these prestigious spaces, which tend to be white and male. I’m curious about what we can do to help arm them before they go. I’m curious to figure out how we can support them from afar.

Money is also a big issue. To apply for prestigious awards and accolades is not cheap. Reading fees and application fees are no joke, and it only helps keep the writing world classist. One dream I have is to start some kind of scholarship fund just for application fees. If we could help women submit their work to places they normally wouldn’t because of fees and financial concerns, that would be huge.


Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo’s debut poetry collection, Built with Safe Spaces, will be published by Sundress Publication in Winter 2016.

Women Who Crawl: Laura Warrell on Reading at Lit Crawl L.A.

by Laura Warrell

Women Who Submit rocked this year’s Lit Crawl L.A., an annual street festival where thousands of book lovers hustle from one North Hollywood venue to the next to hear local authors read their work. As a new member of WWS, I was honored when group co-founder Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo invited me to read at the event this year, a feeling that deepened as I listened to the powerhouse line-up of women writers with whom I shared the stage. Lit Crawl gave me the opportunity to once again hear Lisa Cheby read from her chapbook, Love Lessons from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, including a poem nominated for a Pushcart prize. Iris De Anda’s delicate delivery of her poems only heightened their intensity, while Ashaki M. Jackson’s poems were as bracing as they were profound. The prose writers, Tisha Reichle and Vicki Vertiz, rounded out the line-up sharing poignant and compelling stories that captivated the audience. I read a brand-new essay–one I had never shared–but knew the safest place to make a debut was among friends of WWS.

In an effort to emulate WWS meetings, each reader began by listing the publications to which she had submitted her work and was immediately cheered on by the audience (at meetings, each member announces the moment she presses “send” and submits her work to literary journals and contests as everyone in the room applauds). Unlike WWS meetings, we cheered with plastic hand clappers, which made a normally subdued event feel more like a celebration. Though the reading took place on the patio of the Eclectic Restaurant, the noise from the busy dining room and street could not overpower the readers’ voices or the audience’s applause. Passersby stopped to listen, snap pictures and join an already packed house.

The Lit Crawl reading was one of the best of my writing life. At first, I was nervous to take part because my essay explored one of the most difficult moments in my failed marriage. Not only did I feel vulnerable sharing such a personal story, especially a painful one, but I also worried whether the new piece was “working.” The rousing applause after I finished reading was encouragement enough. But even more fantastic was the support I received from my fellow WWS members, like Tisha who beamed at me when I walked off the stage and said, “You killed it.”

Which brings me to what is most special about Women Who Submit: community. All writers need places where they can feel supported to take chances in their work and brave the challenges of an artistic life. But for women writers, who tend to be less assertive in building their careers, the support may be even more crucial. For that, WWS is priceless.


-1A recent transplant to Los Angeles from Boston, Laura Warrell has been published in Salon.com, Racialicious.com, The Writer and other publications. She spends most of her days hustling to one of three adjunct teaching positions to fill amazing young minds with literature and writing prompts. The other days, she thanks God for never having to endure another New England winter.

Celebration Blitzes

by Ramona Pilar

Submit!

Who: Women Who Submit
Where: ONLINE In the comfort of wherever you, your computer and wifi wanna be.
L.A. METRO AREA:  The Little Easy – 216 W. 5th Street, DTLA, CA 90013
What: Women Who Submit’s 2nd Annual SUBMISSION BLITZ (and L.A. Meetup)
When: Saturday September 12, 2015
ONLINE: Beginning at 12:01am – 11:59pm
L.A. METRO AREA: 12:00pm – 4:00pm

Why?

The channeling of writing is done in solitude. Whether alone in the quiet before dawn – a soundtrack of scattering the only rush hour you hear – or squished into a seat on a light rail train or subway at rush hour, a veritable contortionist, angling your writing arm, wrist and fingers however you can in order to transmute those stories, verses, and images into a collection of words.

Purple Lady Metro
La Viejita Morada – 2013

But that channeling – that creativity – isn’t necessarily the whole of what it means to be a writer. As a storyteller, one is urged, pushed, cajoled or challenged by something inside of you to pluck those passing thoughts from the din of the thousands that flow through your mind on a daily basis and  give them form, genre, emotion – voice. As a writer, you are further compelled to share these stories and contribute to the larger story of your community – however many you claim – tells about itself to itself.

Women Who Submit is just one of several groups of writers who have organized around supporting and amplifying the stories of people who have been bit players at best in the story contemporary literature and publishing tells about itself to itself.

WWS’s First Submission Blitz took place in a bar/restaurant at the deadest part of the day: early afternoon. As patrons trickled in and saw a group of women sitting around a table with laptops, they were curious. The more they drank, the bolder they got until they asked what we were doing. Each time we explained, the response was, “Oh, wow! That’s such a good idea!” And as each writer submitted her work, we cheered, and they cheered along with us.

1st Annual Submission Blitz - 2014 Somewhere in Northeast L.A.
1st Annual Submission Blitz – 2014

This year’s Submission Blitz will take place at The Little Easy in Downtown Los Angeles. It’s reminiscent of a speakeasy, Parisian parlor and Disney’s Blue Bayou restaurant (without the old water smell from the Pirates of the Caribbean ride). There’s a wooden fenced mezzanine with ivy-strewn awnings and a gazebo-ed fountain in the main part of the restaurant. It’s the best kind of whimsical a restaurant/bar could be.

Writing can be serious work. Sharing that writing doesn’t have to be. At a submission party, your submission receives the amount of fanfare and hoopla your hard work deserves. At our annual Submission Blitz, we target the top five Top Tiered journals currently publishing work. Hell yeah it deserves a venue that features a 3 foot painting of the general manager dressed as Napoleon. Sharing your stories and celebrating your community(ies) sharing theirs is just as much a part of being a writer as the words on the page.

* * * * * * *

TO SUBMIT

Let’s inundate these top journals with our best work and shake up their slush piles.

Here are five tier 1 journals with current open readings. Be sure to check out their guidelines.

Agni
http://www.bu.edu/agni/submit.html

Georgia Review
http://garev.uga.edu/submissions.html

Gulf Coast
http://gulfcoastmag.org/submit/

Iowa Review
http://iowareview.org/content/writers-guidelines

Zyzzyva
http://www.zyzzyva.org/about/submissions/

TRANSPORT

TAKE METRO: to Pershing Square Station, exit 5th and Hill street side, walk one block east. Destination will be on the South side.

PARKING: There are some $5-$7 lots on Spring between 4th and 6th streets.

Claps and Cheers: Gabi, a Girl in Pieces by Isabel Quintero

by Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo

productsprimary_image_233Gabi, a Girl in Pieces (Cinco Punto Press), the debut YA novel from Inland Empire poet, Isabel Quintero, reminds me of myself at 17; Gabi is too fat, watches too much “I Love Lucy,” and has too many feelings she can’t seem to make go away. But armed with her journal, a canon of poets including Michele Serros, Sandra Cisneros, and Pablo Neruda, and her special beef jerky she has flown in from Mexico, she is determined to fight the injustices of the world starting with the “boys will be boys” double standard.

We meet Gabi at the opening of her senior year of high school just as she discovers one best friend is pregnant and the other has been kicked out of his house for being gay. We follow her through a year of self-discovery that includes a couple of satisfying smack downs before she is able to find inner-strength and self-acceptance.

Laugh or cry, it’s hard not to be charmed by Gabi’s mix of self-deprecation and humor, and it is no surprise she has earned Quintero quite a few accolades over the past year. Gabi a Girl in Pieces is the 2015 Winner of the William C. Morris Award for YA Debut Novel, and continues to make “best of” reading lists. The latest, “Ten must-read YA novels you’ve probably never heard of” from The Guardian said, “Told through Gabi’s diary, the book is tragic, hilarious, and always whip-smart. It’s also, I’m sure, one of the most diverse and all-encompassing YA novels out there.”

Congratulations to Isabel Quintero on a debut novel that is smart, honest, and full of teenage passion. If I took one thing away from Gabi, it was that I’m not the only one. Even as a 35 year-old, the life of a poet can feel lonely and without much understanding or appreciation (not unlike the life of a 17 year-old). But when Gabi gets a crush on a boy in her poetry class and proclaims, “I think I love Martin Espada,” (named after the famed poet), I beamed with excitement and thought, I love Martín Espada too! In that moment, it was like Gabi was a book meant for me, another Southern California gordita poet. I have no doubt that many other “gorditas, flaquitas, and inbetween girls” will discover Gabi and feel less alone too.

To the gorditas y flaquitas! To the poets! To Gabi! To Isabel Quintero!


Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo has work most recently published in Lumen Magazine, Lunch Ticket, and The James Franco Review. She is a co-founding member of Women Who Submit.

Women Who Host: Ashley Perez on Hosting a WWS Submission Party

AP WWS Submission Party

By Ashley Perez

What a blast it was to host a WWS party at my home on July 11, 2015. I had only been to one WWS meeting before and due to a constant conflicting schedule, I knew the only way I would get to another one would be to host it. I have also had little chance to have people over to my new digs so it served a dual purpose.

The main things I took out of hosting are the two primary words out of this group: WOMEN and SUBMITTING. It felt really good to be among a group of women who are amazingly smart, talented, and funny. It was an amazing atmosphere of solidarity and encouragement.

The second part is submitting. I was working on a huge grant application so I did not submit any stories but a friend of mine who came to the meeting, who had only ever submitted once before, ended up submitting to four different journals. We had over 16 (I think) submissions that day and that made me feel like this amazing group of women were kicking all of the asses and taking over the world.

It also reinforced the fact that I need to get to work. I am not always very productive with my writing (and therefore not submitting) and to hear a round of thunderous applause every time a submission was done helped kick my creative determination up another notch.

That is what is at the heart of this group and their mission and what was made abundantly clear to me during this meeting. It doesn’t matter what my own personal insecurities were (i.e. I suck, I am not a writer, I’ll never submit) because there was a strong group of women surrounding me who would kindly tell me I was wrong, to shut the fuck up, and get back to it, so they too can cheer for me.

* * *

Ashley Perez photo

Ashley Perez lives, writes, and causes trouble in Los Angeles. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Antioch University Los Angeles. She runs the literary site Arts Collide and does work of all varieties for Bleed at Jaded Ibis Press, The Rumpus, The Weeklings, and Midnight Breakfast.

Behind the Editor’s Desk: Reading Fees, Literary Citizenship and Doing it for the Love of Poetry – An Interview with Editor and Publisher, Molly Sutton Kiefer


216823_10150271293399379_918419_n
Molly Sutton Kiefer, is an essayist and poet with numerous publications including the lyric essay, Nestuary (Ricochet Editions 2014) and two chapbooks. She edited for dislocate and Midway Journal before co-founding Tinderbox Poetry Journal with her friend, Brett Elizabeth Jenkins. She is now happily tackling the role of publisher for her newest project, Tinderbox Editions. In a submission call I picked up through the yahoo! listserv CRWROPPS (Creative Writing Opportunities List), Kiefer announced Tinderbox Editions’ latest open reading period will have a fee-free option until August 31st. As a poet who struggles with innumerable pay-to-play contests and open readings, I was excited to learn about reading fees from the publisher’s perspective and to hear more on running a journal and press. Here is what she had to share.

by Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo

WOMEN WHO SUBMIT: In Tinderbox’s most recent submission call, it stated, “Due to an enlightening conversation in a private Facebook group, I’ve decided to open up submissions to my press, Tinderbox Editions, with a donation or fee-free option.” What point or comment from this private conversation inspired you to take action?

MOLLY SUTTON KIEFER: It was definitely the moment when, I think it was Margaret Bashaar of Hyacinth Girl Press, reminded us that the fee is prohibitive for some writers, and she mentioned that the poetry world can be classist in this way. In another thread, another smart editor pointed out how when people who have to relinquish a certain amount of money, it brings them closer to making absolutely certain they are sending out the tightest manuscript they can. I think both points are valid.

I might have to rethink our model as we grow, and that’s OK. Running a press is an adaptable experience. But for the time being, I don’t want to limit the manuscripts I read and consider to those I have a connection to or those who can afford to pay out the fee.

WWS: In offering a fee-free option, what are you hoping to achieve with your submission call?

MSK: What I’m seeing already is a wide range of manuscripts—that diversity of style and voice is so important to me. I’m mostly hoping the fee-free means we’re opening to those who might not otherwise be able to send out that book, but [I] also [hope it] will turn up some manuscripts that are taking more chances.

And I hope that those who can donate, do. Every time I pay a fee to a contest, I do think of it as a donation to said press, but I know that isn’t the case for everyone.

WWS: Do you think it will change the amount or quality of work you will see?

MSK: It’s our first open reading period, so it’s hard to tell! I know a lot of the bigger contests average in the hundreds, and we’ve already seen fourteen in the week that we’ve been open. Fortunately, I was able to gather a team of four volunteers to help with the reading of the manuscripts, which I think is important for the slush—this gives the book a better chance of having a champion who might point out something I missed. I’m reading everything, though, so everything will be considered carefully from that final editorial perspective.

At the journal, it’s become important to me to always have open reading. I am so greedy for good poems, I hate to imagine turning some talent away because we are closed.

WWS: In “The Persistence of Litmags”—an article published in The New Yorker last week—Stephen Burt details the hardships of putting together a litmag such as no money, the hours are terrible, and you’ll never get famous. Yet people continue do it. Why? What drove you to start Tinderbox Poetry Journal and now Tinderbox Editions?

MSK: Brett Elizabeth Jenkins and I set out to start [Tinderbox Poetry Journal] a year and a half ago. We were both editing poetry at other mags that combined CNF and fiction and sometimes art with poems, and both of us loved the work. I wanted to start something though, I wanted it to feel more like mine, more of a connection to my own aesthetic, or formation and evolution thereof, and I wanted a partner in this enterprise, so I asked [Brett]—one of my poet-friends with the keenest eye and biggest drive—and TPJ was formed.

I love the editorial process so much; I discovered I was a unique bird when I told others how much I enjoyed the slush. I love finding a beautiful poem and championing it!

I started Tinderbox Editions separate from Brett. What I’ve found as I’ve been working on these books with these stellar poets, and one essayist, and as I’ve begun collecting for a lyric essay anthology…is that I want to publish the work I have a slight bit of envy for…This isn’t the destructive sort of envy, but a woah kind of admiration and desire. If I can’t have written the piece or the book myself, then I want to do all the work I can in finding it a home in this world and getting it as many readers as I can. In many ways, becoming a book publisher has allowed me to hide behind a mask of legitimacy, when I’m really just a fangirl!

WWS: Stephen Burt writes, “Still, having a crack production team, elegant pages, and a balanced budget isn’t enough to get those sentences in front of readers: for a literary journal to succeed…you have to do something that hasn’t been done well before.” What makes TPJ and Tinderbox Editions different or special?

MSK: I want Tinderbox, both journal and press, to give home to work that expands the definition of poetry, to build on the community of readers, to be transparent in our process, to be supportive of our writers, to be the kind of home many, many people would love to see their own work live in. [The press is] so new, we haven’t even put the sign up on the office door, but I think publishing books in the poetry world can be a ping pong game, and I admire the presses like Graywolf, Milkweed, Copper Canyon, etc., who stick by their authors and bring out book after book, supporting the career of the writer, as opposed to this one fleeting moment in their stardom.

I have grand plans for this, like finding a way to include a grant from Tinderbox Editions offered to its poets and essayists who might need some funding help on the next book. I hope to find ways to help fund a reading tour and ways to creatively spread the world about their newest book.

I’m banking on quality and dedication to keep us going…and earnest desire to do right by the people whose work I am helping bring into the world.

WWS: Tinderbox Editions is currently open to submissions until August 31st for “personal essays, lyric essays, prose poem collections, and hybrid collections.” What are you hoping to see? What gets you excited?

MSK: Oh, I am giddy about this reading period. (To be fair, I’ll be giddy about the winter poetry reading period too. I’ve found a way to make my childhood dream come true, which is to become a professional reader). I did my undergraduate thesis in non-fiction and my MFA in poetry. I’ve been pulled between both genres like taffy, and I love that stretch in between. I am ridiculously swoony over personal essayists such as Leslie Jamison, Jo Ann Beard, the like, and those that creep towards lyric essay like Eula Biss and Joni Tevis and those that are more into the poetry end of things like Claudia Rankine and Maggie Nelson. I love Gretel Erlich and Lidia Yukinovitch. I love so many books that are in this nebulous category: Rachel Zucker’s MOTHERs, Christine Hume’s Ventifacts, Bhanu Kapil’s Humanimal, Sarah Vap’s End of the Sentimental Journey. Poets who have written memoir that is also rooted in research and essay: Sarah Manguso’s Two Kinds of Decay and Christine Montross’ Body of Work.

I love the possibilities in this call. I love the ways the written word can interact with art object and artifact, can explore established form and break apart expectations.

WWS: As an editor and publisher, what is the biggest mistake you see from submitters? Or what is your biggest pet peeve?

MSK: There has been one thing that makes my nose wrinkle, and that’s the very small handful of submissions that have read “Dear Sirs.” We’re all ladies. Not on purpose, but by default. Both editors, our journal reader, and the four press readers. (And our first four poets are female, but we have nabbed a book of essays by a very talented male.)

I’m grateful to every submitter who tells me they’ve read a recent issue or admire one of our writers’ work—it tells me that there’s an exchange going on. Spreading the word! I have a feature I’m starting on the press’s blog where people can share something wonderful they’ve read (you can submit at our Submittable page) and that becomes a part of literary citizenship too: here’s this beautiful thing and I want to share it with you.

WWS: Finally, what is one piece of advice you would like to share with women submitting their work for publication?

MSK: You know, one of the best things I did for myself as a writer was to become a reviewer. I did it more in earnest when my first full-length came out—if I expected others to review my work, then I ought to pay it forward in some way. But by reviewing books, particularly ones that are difficult or aren’t in your own writing wheelhouse, strengthens you a great deal, not just to make you a smarter reader and allow you to appreciate you more, but lets you take your own risks in your own work. You never know what will appeal to you. My first review ever was Sun Yung Shin’s Skirt Full of Black for CutBank. I remember getting the book, opening it up, and thinking, “I’ll never have anything smart to say about this!” But I read it to the end and fell in love and read it again and again—with a book and a style I might not have otherwise been open to.

If you believe in yourself and your work and you keep at it (and keep reading—I can’t emphasize that enough!), things will happen.


Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo has work most recently published in The American Poetry Review, The Nervous Breakdown, and Lunch Ticket. She is a co-founding member of Women Who Submit.