Tag: how to get published

Beginners Guide to Publishing in Literary Magazines – Advice from Ann Stoney

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One of the many women who impressed me at the Women At Woodstock 2017 Writers Retreat was Ann Stoney. Not only is she a beautiful writer, she gets herself out there. Ann has racked up an impressive list of stories published by literary magazines over many years of writing. She’s a pro.

I asked Ann if she would share her experience with the rest of us. How does she find writers’ competitions and calls for entries? How does she choose the right ones for her writing style and goals? How does she WIN?! I’m just starting to submit my work to publications and competitions myself, finally, after all these years, so I’m hanging on every word. If you’re an aspiring writer too – or even if you’ve earned a few publications or awards yourself but know that you could always use good advice, read on. Here, from Ann, is:

Beginners Guide to Publishing in Literary Magazines

There are literally hundreds of well-regarded literary magazines out there, waiting for your submissions. Here are some basic tips from a fellow writer who’s experienced limited success, and is still working on it.

The first step is to investigate writing resources like Poets and Writers magazine, and websites: Every Writers Resource, New Pages, Literistic, among others. They can hook you up not only with literary magazines, but also conferences, retreats, grant money, writing programs and anything else a writer might need. Look for magazines that are accepting submissions from “Emerging Writers”, writers who have not yet published a book, or in a publication with a large readership.

If time permits, research the magazine websites, and the writers they’ve published in past issues. I say if time permits because this is a challenge if you’re submitting your piece to lots of them simultaneously. And you should be. I’m talking fifty and above. Surprised? Given the number of talented writers out there, you can’t expect to get published if you limit your submissions to a few. Research a few, submit to a lot.

Even agents and editors will tell you that choosing pieces for publication is a highly subjective process. What one reader doesn’t like, another reader might. The literary business is, in some ways, a crapshoot. This is why it pays to submit, submit, submit! Make sure you notify the other magazines if your piece gets accepted somewhere.

To give you an example of the crazy literary world, one of my stories won an honorable mention from Glimmer Train (one of the top fifty magazines) and was a semifinalist in the American Literary Review fiction contest and guess what? The story has yet to be published. My submissions on this story that won accolades are close to the 50 mark. How crazy is that? Getting published requires grit, determination and patience. You have to be in it for the long haul, and not get discouraged every time you get a rejection.

The second step is to not expect results right away. Unless you’re submitting to well known magazines with paid staff, you’re dealing with devoted readers who are volunteering their time to plough through your submission along with hundreds of others. Don’t expect a response for at least three to six months.

Once the rejections start piling up, you’re ready for the third step — learning to differentiate between the positives and the negatives. Feel lucky if you get anything beyond a rote rejection blurb, “We regret this story isn’t right for this magazine. Good luck placing it elsewhere.” A more positive rejection might be, “Although this story wasn’t what we were looking for, your writing recommends your talent; please send us more.” Tape the positive ones to your wall and target those magazines. Then do as you’re told and send them more!

In order to send them more, you need a body of work (fourth step). I try to balance my writing time between creating, revising and submitting. I might work on a story for a few days, then take a day off and submit one story to several magazines, perhaps ten in an afternoon. This is not an impossible task, given that most of the magazines now use an online program called Submittable. Be sure to track your submissions, on paper or in a database, making note of the name of the magazine, date submitted, type of submission (contest, general), name of piece submitted, and rejection/acceptance date.

Before submitting to any magazine, do the work. Make sure your piece is as good as it can be. Unless you’re a genius, this means revising it until you’re ready to pull your hair out, based on critical positive feedback from your writing group friends, or an editor you’ve paid to lower the axe.

Speaking of writers groups and conferences, one step towards getting published is to become part of a writing community. One of the members of my writing group started a literary magazine, and voila! I was published. Sure, the magazine closed after a few months, but still, I can list it as a writing credit on my biography. And yes, you will need to submit a short cover letter and biography along with your piece. This is not the place to describe what your piece is about, but rather an opportunity to share with the editors how much you enjoy their magazine (if it’s true), and whatever information you feel is relevant to your writing life. Above all, make it short and sweet.

Good luck to you, fellow aspiring writers. And thank you, Ann, for sharing what you’ve learned as you’ve made your way along the path that we’re all treading.
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I Read This One Single Scene, Put the Book Down, and Cried

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I was reading this beautiful book. I could already tell that it was one I would remember and that I would recommend to friends.

And then I came to page 125. I read this one single scene. Two pages. And I put the book down and cried.

The five hundred-something words on those 2 pages described a young boy’s bedtime ritual with his mother, a memory so pure, so dear, and so sad… simply because it was gone. Those words made me suddenly understand that my bedtimes with my daughters were as hard for me as they were for them – hard because at the end of the day – days that were imperfect and marred and wrought with difficulties and rage and fear and disappointments – I didn’t want the day to have been what it was, and so I didn’t want it to end. Wait… was that what was behind those hours I spent reading, talking, singing? Wait…

Who wrote this beautiful book?

Stefan Merrill Block, a young man of 26.

What 26-year-old man could possibly throw such a searing light on my own memories as a mother?

What 26-year-old man weaves words into such a beautiful, heart-wrenching tale?

What 26-year-old man gets his first novel published?

I’m trying not to look at this writer and his novel, The Story of Forgetting, as proof that he is simply a better writer than I am, that he simply has more merit or more talent, and that therefore he is facing a life ahead as a successful author while I, now past 60, have not yet published a book nor could possibly do so.

I’m trying, instead, to look at what this young writer did that’s different than what I’ve done (so far). I’m trying to clearly see, and understand, truths that will help me as a writer, not discourage me. And this is what I see:

Stefan Merrill Block clearly decided that he would write this book. He simply decided.

Then he just did it. He devoted his mental capacities, his concentration, and countless hours just doing it: sitting down and writing.

And he got help. Lots and lots and lots of help. Stefan asked for help from experts, advisors, readers, editors, and those knowledgeable about the field his story delved into, and most importantly, he asked for help from those who know about writing and the publishing world. At the end of his book, his author’s note thanks, over the course of three pages, 7 writers and filmmakers whose work inspired him; 17 researchers whose work informed him; scores of people he conversed with in an online community; 29 friends, supporters, and advisors; numerous researchers; a group of editors at his publishing house; and 4 experienced readers and editors. A whole community of support.

This most talented young man wrote alone, as we all do. But he did not publish alone. He surrounded himself with “a group of one’s own,” as Linda Lowen describes in her post about creating community through writing.

Stefan Merrill Block, talented as he is, clearly did not think his writing was destined for publication simply because he thought it perfectly written in its first draft. Nor did he think his writing unworthy, not deserving the time and cost of obtaining advice, review, and expertise from others.

And that’s what the Women At Woodstock Writers Retreat is about. Deciding to write your book. Doing it. And most of all, opening yourself up to a community of support; investing the time and, yes, a little money, into stepping into a community of your own that will give you the encouragement, expertise, and support that one needs in order get published.

Are you a writer who’s going to actually write your book? Who’s going to join a community of your own? Who’s going to become a published author – like Women At Woodstock alums Jill Dodd, Laura Iodice, and Peggy Reskin, and like our Writers Retreat coaches Linda Lowen and Colleen Geraghty? I’ll see you in October.

Want to read the scene from The Story of Forgetting that broke me down? Here it is:

WHEN I WAS LITTLE, my mom and I had a game no one else knew about. There weren’t any rules, or winners, or necessary playing elements like boards or dice. In fact, all there was to the game were two words.

At night, after my mom would tell me a story, we would say “good night” to each other dozens of times. After each time one of us said it, the other would have to say it in return, because when it got to the point that no one was saying “good night” at all, that meant that day was really over, and as remarkable as it may seem now, that was once something we hated to admit.

My mom and I also had another game. While the first we could play only in my bed at night, this game we could play anywhere, anytime. Sometimes, when I would think my mom was being eccentric (or maybe something worse), I would suddenly realize that she was just playing the game.

The game was simple: one of us would start to pretend to be the other. It might not sound like much, but sometimes it seemed like more than a game, like we actually could almost become each other, sharing thoughts like the Isidorans. Once, as she sat on the corner of my bed, after we played the first game for close to ten minutes, to the point that a book of psychopathology would categorize it as obsessive behavior, we were silent. I knew she thought I was asleep, but I was awake, thinking about how I didn’t want her to go to bed because then I would know that I was the only one awake in the whole house, maybe the whole neighborhood. Maybe the only one awake in the whole city, who knew?

Suddenly, into the darkness, my mom said, “I can’t sleep because I ‘m worried about not being able to sleep.”

I said, “Me too.”

“The thing I hate the most is to be the only person awake when the whole world is asleep,” she continued.

“Me too!” I said.

I was little and not yet good at the game, so she made it more obvious.

“When I grow up I want to be a famous scientist,” she said.

!!!, I thought.

“You’re me!” I said, so loud it could have woken my dad.

“Bingo,” she said.

“Ohhh,” I said.

And then, after a long time, my mom said, “Good night.”

“Good night.”

My mom said, “Good night.”

I said, “Good night.”

And because my mom didn’t say anything for a long time, I said “Good night.”

And then I said, “Good night.”