The WWS members included in this post published their work in amazing places during July 2023. I’ve included an excerpt from published pieces (if available) or a blurb (if available) if the publication is a book, along with a link (if available) to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety.
Please join me in celebrating our members who published in July 2023!
Continue reading “July 2023 Publication Roundup”
The WWS members included in this post published their work in amazing places during the month of June 2023. I’ve included an excerpt from published pieces (if available) or a blurb (if available) if the publication is a book, along with a link (if available) to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety.
Please join me in celebrating our members who published in June 2023!
Continue reading “June 2023 Publication Roundup”
by Rosalinda Alcala
Returning to writing seemed an insurmountable task, even with my abundant energy and my supportive husband. My twitch to write began somewhere between my children’s childhood and adolescence. Writing became my obsession in spare moments between the bedtime stories and the adolescent struggle for independence. Online spaces fit my busy lifestyle by providing rabbit holes of information and a burrow of my own.
I loved spending time with my children. Meanwhile balancing laundry, meals, and homework created a fog. In a parallel universe, I was devoted to creating and executing lessons for students. I was giving of myself. My time. My heart. In time, my soul craved a creative outlet. An expression in art.
In the classroom, writing was a trouble spot for my then sixth graders. So, I began searching for lessons outside our curriculum. My keystrokes for writing lessons opened a world of rabbit holes. An endless freefall. One article led to another. Then triplicate. Down I spiraled.
The free fall increased with each click. I grabbed and pulled at roots during my downward spiral until I landed firmly in the Writer’s Digest world. Like any good rabbit, all twitching aside, I was careful to examine my surroundings. Carrot seeds in the form of books dotted my underground burrow with promises: how to write a better novel, character development, and setting.
In the Writer’s Digest burrow, I took my first online writing class. One on character development. The instructor’s comments were so gentle, yet filled with savvy writerly advice. She provided beginning seeds of character, novel growth, and development. My high school newspaper writing days were decades in the past and I was now writing fiction–she fit my needs.
The experience provided me with so much confidence that I began writing the next great novel. One hundred pages later, I discovered information on common beginner mistakes. I made every-one.
I scratched out a new journey. Yet comparable to visiting a former neighborhood, I would return to the Writer’s Digest burrow for an occasional class or webinar.
Soon, I pulled back the spiny roots for a better view of the other tunnels and burrows. I considered an MFA, but some universities prohibited employment while enrolled in their program. Local commuter schools offered MFA programs without employment requirements. When I considered my predawn wake up, my children’s activities, my husband’s work schedule and our cooking–the thought of driving even fifteen minutes tired me. In the end, I couldn’t justify the cost or time. I tunneled through the universities, clicking and scratching.
Soon I found the perfect burrow, UCLA Extension. The program offers online writing certificates taught by published instructors. My classes taught conflict, novel elements, structure, and provided workshops. Graduating from the certificate program was bittersweet because I had left built in friendships and critique partners. Once again, I was on my own and I missed the comradery and comments from classmates about something writing related.
I worked on my novel or wrote short stories in bursts. My work remained on my desktop for months. Occasionally, I returned to the stories between life. One day during my time exploring new rabbit holes, I discovered Women Who Submit. I became a member while the pandemic still loomed and met with the Long Beach chapter virtually. Conversations entailed literary magazines, novel releases, and readings. The ladies in my chapter also suggested specific literary magazines for my stories. Upon further digging, I realized some of my amazing UCLA instructors inhabited this burrow. I had found my people.
As the world reopened from the Pandemic, I kept my predawn rising ritual to write before my students stumbled into my classroom. Weekends were filled with our children’s sports and my own workouts. At times, I would pop into Zoom meetings with Women Who Submit in my workout gear with my nose twitching, ready to visit and write. In this burrow, I have harvested the carrots of publication and workshop acceptance. Once again, despite my full life, a virtual burrow allowed me to find a writing community and flourish.
Rosalinda lives with her husband and two teenagers. A family of cottontails live in a burrow among the backyard flowers. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t pose for a photo. Rosalinda’s home is located where suburbia kisses the chaparral trails.
The WWS members included in this post published their work in amazing places during the month of May 2023. I’ve included an excerpt from published pieces (if available) or a blurb (if available) if the publication is a book, along with a link (if available) to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety.
Please join me in celebrating our members who published in May 2023!
Continue reading “May 2023 Publication Roundup”
The WWS members included in this post published their work in amazing places during the month of April 2023. I’ve included an excerpt from published pieces (if available) or a blurb (if available) if the publication is a book, along with a link (if available) to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety.
Please join me in celebrating our members who published in April 2023!
Continue reading “April 2023 Publication Roundup”
by Erica Frederick
Originally published March 10, 2023 in Salt Hill Journal
Yvette Lisa Ndlovu’s debut short story collection, Drinking from Graveyard Wells, glimpses into the lives of African women, be they goddesses or ghosts, broke college student or town gossip. This is a collection of blood-boiling big ideas, asking: what if life and death are simply unfair? What if the white boy gets to become a millionaire by building a rideshare app based on Zimbabwean customs? What if the patriarchy persists, even in the afterlife? Ndlovu, a real-life sarungano, writes to make us rage right alongside the women in these stories while still insisting that the lessons we learn from storytelling are remedies, but not in the way we might expect.
A real triumph and delight of Drinking from Graveyard Wells lies in its fearless condemnation of the powers that be—even the gods themselves. “When Death Comes to Find You” envisions a capitalist hellscape: a world where debt in life transcends to debt in death and diamond miners must participate in an immortal toil. The story asserts that “even the afterlife is made for the rich.” In “The Soul Would Have No Rainbow,” a granddaughter receives a letter from her late grandmother revealing that “in the heavens all the gods were arrogant bastards.” Ndlovu forces us to reckon with the possibility of cosmic inequity, that omnipotent power still corrupts.
Despite the seemingly hopeless conception of an unjust afterlife, Ndlovu does seem to offer up the antidote. “The Carnivore’s Lollipop” introduces us to ngano, fables and fairytales from the Shona tradition that, in this collection, often work as warnings of divine justice.
Ngano about reparations are interspersed throughout this story as the narrator is duped into a multi-level marketing scheme, buying and breeding boxes of ants to sell back to a drug company. When the company gets dissolved by the CEO, we realize what reparations look like when people who are in possession of ants (raised on a carnivore diet) decide to show up to the protest. So often, marginalized people are asked to turn the other cheek in the face of injustice. But, in these stories, Ndlovu offers an alternate solution: revenge. In “Red Cloth, White Giraffe,” a woman must remain on earth until her former husband pays off the rest of her bride price to the men in her family. The threat on the other side of this is that the woman might become a ngozi, an avenging spirit, capable of levying a visceral justice.
In “Plumtree: True Stories,” we receive a series of vignettes, many of which introduce new iterations of ngano and Black spirituality. The title reads as a radical act, casting Black spirit as true, as fact, and as essential, placing Ndlovu firmly in the midst of Black writers like Akwaeke Emezi and others whose work gives credence to the divine.
Drinking from Graveyard Wells explores what it means to grapple with those in power by allowing us to imagine the gods as absolute bastards. The collection insists, too, that storytelling and oral histories serve as reminders that justice isn’t freely given, it’s taken. Kicking and screaming, Ndlovu’s debut collection demands to be seen.
Erica Frederick is a queer, Haitian American writer and MFA candidate in fiction at Syracuse University. She currently serves as the fiction coordinator for The Best of the Net Anthology. Her work has appeared in Split Lip Magazine and was selected for Best Microfiction 2023. You can find her work at ericafrederick.com.
The end of a wet and wild March is upon us, which means it’s time to celebrate the hardworking Women Who Submit members who have published their work.
The WWS members included in this post published their work during the month of March. I’ve included an excerpt from published pieces (if available) or a blurb (if available) if the publication is a book, along with a link (if available) to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety.
Please join me in celebrating our members who published in March!
Continue reading “March 2023 Publication Roundup”
This year, February flew by so quickly that I only just realized it ended. Our amazing Women Who Submit members, however, have been working hard, as always, and their efforts have paid off with more amazing publications.
The WWS members included in this post published their work during the month of February. I’ve included an excerpt from published pieces (if available) or a blurb (if available) if the publication is a book, along with a link (if available) to where the pieces can be purchased and/or read in their entirety.
Please join me in celebrating our members who published in February!
Continue reading “February 2023 Publication Roundup”
By Rebecca Gomez Farrell
At the end of 2022, I stepped down from leading the long-running Bay Area chapter of Women Who Submit (WWS). Over the five years that I organized the chapter, I noticed that the same questions came up time and time again. Our answers to those questions illustrate what makes WWS submission parties so encouraging and productive. The positive reinforcement they provide turns the drudgery of the submission process into inspiration.
When we meet, our members ring a call bell whenever they hit “send” on a submission and everyone bursts into cheers. Doing so fulfills an important purpose by providing an easy way to inject excitement into the room. You might even call it Pavlovian: endorphins surge once the bell rings, bringing affirmation with them and a smile on all the faces as we celebrate the person who submitted a manuscript or query, or fellowship application. Everyone else is energized to earn their turn to ring the bell by submitting again. It’s so simple, yet such a beautiful way to support each other.
Like ringing the bell, WWS members encourage each other through useful and uplifting answers to those common questions that crop up at each submission party. Through reframing the submission process as part of a writer’s work, rather than something to dread, each click of a “submit” button becomes something that validates, rather than dulls, our creative dreams.
Here are the common questions and answers I’ve encountered at Bay Area chapter submission parties over the years.
1. My short story doesn’t quite fit this magazine’s guidelines. I shouldn’t send it, right?
Yes, you should! It’s one thing to submit a novel-length work to a submission call for 5,000 words (don’t do that), but if a market lists a flash fiction limit of 1,500 words and you’re at 1,610? Send that manuscript. Or maybe an anthology’s theme is surrealism, and your piece feels closer to abstract and you’re not sure it qualifies. The worst an editor can do is reject it, and the best? Well, you may just make it into one of your top markets! All because you had a slightly different understanding of those styles than the editor did. It’s their job to decide what submissions fit their call, and it’s your job to give them your piece to consider.
2. Does anyone know what markets might take a funny novella about cello-playing vampires?
Many of our Bay Area chapter members are seasoned writers and quite willing to share their experiences with newer ones. They also dabble in multiple forms, from speculative fiction to personal essays to haiku memoirs. Part of the value of our submission parties is learning that we are each other’s greatest resources! Nearly every time this question is asked, another writer in attendance will have a suggestion. And it’s almost assured that another member will then also submit something to that market they just learned about. Everybody benefits from asking questions and taking the leap.
3. I can’t take another rejection. How do you deal?
By celebrating them! Or at least contextualizing them. Inspired by another member’s suggestion, I offered fifty-rejections stamp cards to our members, redeemable for a free beverage on me once those cards were filled. That’s a fun, tangible motivation, but the real one is this: rolling with rejection is part of a writer’s work, or at least the work of a writer who wants to be published.
Creative pursuits are emotional minefields, for sure, but if you’ve decided you want your masterpiece to appear in the pages of an esteemed publication? You have to keep sending it out. Making the publication happen is a numbers game. If the piece hasn’t been accepted yet, then you haven’t pulled the right number yet. What’s that number? The right editor reads your piece for the right publication on the right day when they are in the right mood. All that has to come together for an acceptance to come in, and none of it is controllable. So control what you can: the quality of your writing and placing it in that editor’s hands in the first place by submitting a rejected manuscript out yet again.
If you think of rejection as part of a writer’s work, it becomes routine, just another task to be managed. Another rejection? Another opportunity to send that manuscript out into the world. Then…Ding! Ding! Ding! Ring that bell! You’re doing the work of a writer. And you totally deserve that extra scoop of double-chip mint, too.
4. Is it okay if I don’t submit anything and just work on this poem?
Absolutely. Yes, WWS submission parties run on peer pressure to submit our pieces. When eyes light up, applause breaks out, and another member gets their deserved praise, it’s infectious! But sometimes, you don’t have the emotional reserves to keep hitting those “send” buttons. Sometimes, you need to refill your well first, and allowing yourself to do that is also the work of a writer. Sometimes you just want to bask in the presence of other women taking those leaps and use it as motivation to get that poem into shape. Even if you’re not taking part in the submission process right now, you’re taking part in the creation of that supportive atmosphere at the party. Maybe next time will be the one when you hit the send button and finally ring that bell.
5. Yes, you did it! You submitted! Now, where will I read that essay once your acceptance comes in?
I admit it, I’m the one asking this question whenever someone rings the bell. Sure, we need to harden our exteriors to deal with all the noes that writers accrue. But it’s okay to let ourselves dream of yesses, too. Ringing that bell generates happy feelings, and so does allowing ourselves that glimmer of possibility, welcoming the potential that this time this piece is going to win the numbers game. I’ve seen it happen for so many chapter members over the years, with a lengthy list of credits to their names. I’ve had at least twenty publications of pieces I’ve sent out during a submission party. If we control what we can—the quality of our writing and our willingness to risk acceptance—sometimes the magic comes together in just the right way and our number is pulled.
Making the choice to step down from the Bay Area WWS chapter was hard. But I’ve been neglecting a different part of the work of a writer in recent years: the writing itself. With the pandemic and a new day job, and the life changes that came with both, I stopped prioritizing writing new fiction. So I need to reclaim that writing time first before I’ll have submissions to send out again.
I know that when those new pieces are ready, my local chapter of Women Who Submit will be too, ready to welcome me back and cheer me on as I ring that bell.
Rebecca Gomez Farrell’s Wings Rising epic fantasy duology, Wings Unseen and Wings Unfurled, is published by Meerkat Press. Her short works have appeared over 30 times in magazines, websites, and anthologies such as Beneath Ceaseless Skies, It Calls From the Sky, PULP Literature, and A Quiet Afternoon 1 & 2. Website: RebeccaGomezFarrell.com. Social Media: @theGourmez.
“Who’s got next?” Noriko Nakada asked in her last post as the blog managing editor. The week after I read it, I ran into her at a party. With a glimmer in her eye, she asked me, “You thinking about applying?”
“Kind of,” I said with my shoulders up to my ears telegraphing doubt.
” You should.”
I have written several times for the WWS blog series. Each experience was gentle, kind, and nurturing. The idea of holding space for other writers’ work, accepting submissions, soliciting voices I admire, and running a series close to my heart were too tempting to forgo.
So I applied. And…
I got next, but to be honest, I am more of an artist than a jock, but I will gladly take the court from the talented and compassionate Noriko Nakada and turn it into a found object sculpture of a new series called Intersect. Let’s see where we meet.
Perhaps we have already met, online through the WWS Open Mic (I hosted from April 2020-February 2023), or other areas I stepped in to support or take part in WWS programming, or you may not know me at all. If that is the case, I’m Thea. Like many members, I was financially and emotionally impacted by the pandemic. The WWS weekly online meetings in 2020 assisted me in becoming more resilient and adventurous in writing, submitting, and putting myself out there.
WWS also provided me with community and a culture of support. Something I desperately needed when the shutdown impacted me professionally, and I had to adapt and change. The business I spent over a decade building was not sustainable. Since I joined WWS in 2019, I saw my writing practice flourish and my publication numbers increase exponentially. With my newly found confidence in writing, I applied and accepted a contract to write ESL readers (the first time I was paid for my fiction). After writing 20, I realized the company, and I were not a good fit. I then went back to technical writing to supplement my lost income from my business and, of course, continued my literary writing to feed my soul.
Thanks to the WWS community, I have been able to access resources and knowledge bases that I never knew existed. Including scholarships, financial support, and other opportunities. As someone who wrote solitary for most of their adult life, I felt blocked from many opportunities. Primarily, because of lack of access, connections, and information. I didn’t have resources for letters of recommendation for residencies or fellowships. I wasn’t familiar with how to apply for personal grants. The list goes on. In my short time with WWS I learned much, and I am excited and honored to be named the WWS Blog Managing Editor for a paying market and help provide further information, context, and experience through your words to our members and the literary community at large.
The Road to Joy and Advocacy
February 8th, 2023 I found myself in one of the many places that WWS, and the literary and arts communities intersect. Cody Sisco invited me to read in person along with WWS board member Luivette Resto, WWS members Lisbeth Coiman, Hazel Knight Wittman, Carla Sameth, Flint, Traci Kato-Kiriyama and eleven other writers and poets at the WeHo Reads: Mindful Journeys Toward Better Futures event. It was held at the West Hollywood Public Library and included a tour of a photo exhibition led by West Hollywood Arts Coordinator Mike Che. WeHo Reads is a literary series presented by the City of West Hollywood, produced by Bookswell and supported by UCLA Extension Writers’ Program with media partnerships with Bookshop.org, Book Soup and Los Angeles Review of Books. Find out more about WeHo Reads here and how it intersects to resilience, justice, legacy, motherhood and more.
The Beginning
Women Who Submit was born through the lens of intersectionality in the literary landscape with a vision to bring parity to women and nonbinary writers in publishing who experienced rejection, limited access to opportunities, limited representation, bias, and barriers due to gender, race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, or disability. The goal of the organization is to submit as much as much possible as a community to gain parity and visibility. Find out more about the beginnings of WWS here.
The Intersection
Let’s sculpt something beautiful together in my year as blog managing editor. In this series, I invite you to submit work regarding where we intersect. I’m looking for articles/essays about (but I am open to other topics as well):
On top of personal essays and articles, I am also looking for book reviews of marginalized and underrepresented voices.
The Facts
I look forward to reading your words and serving as a resource to this amazing community. Intersect will publish bi-monthly on the first and third Monday of the month. Familiarize yourself with the WWS Core Values prior to submitting, only work that adheres to them will be accepted.
Thea Pueschel is a nonbinary, neurodivergent, emerging writer and artist, the managing blog editor for Women Who Submit, a facilitator for Shut Up & Write, a California Arts Council Panelist 2022, and a Dorland Arts Colony Resident. Thea’s first solo mixed media exhibition “44: not dead, just invisible” ran at The Center of Orange from September 2021-December 2021. Thea has been published in Short Edítion, and Perhappened, among others.
