A Year in Writing
Sep. 3rd, 2008 12:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morrigirlIt was around about this time last year that I finished reading How to Become a Famous Writer Before You're Dead by Ariel Gore. It's beyond cliche to admit there is a book that changed your life, but in my case it is absolutely true. It was only after reading that book that I felt motivated to generate new poems for the first time in three years.
I'm not a big fan of writer's reference books. On the whole I find them too strict, authoritarian, and inflexible. It was the title of Gore's book that caught my eye. Bold and brazen, it made me want to find out of she could deliver on the promise of seeing my words in print and my name in lights.
Gore's book made me realize there are two categories of information every writer needs in order to succeed: there's the stuff they need to KNOW and the stuff they need to HEAR. Aspiring writers need to know that they will face tons of rejection and learn how to deal with that; they need to know how to revise and how to properly submit a manuscript; they need to know how to query an agent and market themselves. The need-to-knows are the nuts and bolts, the realities of life as a writer.
But writers, particularly new and struggling ones, need to HEAR that they are genuinely talented, that their work is pure genius, otherwise they will never be able to muster the motivation or confidence to move forward with their work. In junior high and high school my writing was constantly praised by my teachers and classmates, and I got used to the accolades. I was the resident writer. No one could best me in that arena.
College, however, was a different story. For the first time in my life I was surrounded by people who were better writers than I was. Suddenly, I wasn't so hot. Students and teachers alike ripped my poetry and my self-esteem to shreds in workshop, and I graduated thinking that I had zero talent and no hope of ever making it as a writer. So, I stopped writing. Deprived of any positive feedback other than that offered by my friends, my confidence plummeted and my motivation disappeared.
It wasn't until I picked up How to Become a Famous Writer Before You're Dead that I found the positive feedback I needed to get myself going again. In it, Gore tells the reader that their work is brilliant! The sort of creative genius other writers kick themselves wishing they could produce. She also reminds the reader that there are TONS of ways to get your writing into the hands of the reading public: you can submit to literary magazines, start your own literary magazine, self-publish, create and distribute your own broadsides. She does not turn up her nose at vanity publishing, believing that any avenue which succeeds at getting your work to the public is acceptable. Most of all, she reminds the reader that it isn't raw talent that gets a writer published, it's persistence. You just have to keep cranking out the work and sending it to editors, even when the rejection slips are piling up. Eventually your work will cross the desk of someone who likes what you do. All it takes is one set of eyes to get you in print.
That was exactly what I needed to hear. I realized that I'd always believed in my own work, I'd always believed that I had something relevent to say, and just because a bunch of English snobs at a liberal arts college didn't agree didn't mean I was wrong. It didn't mean that I had no talent, no future, and no technique. It just meant they didn't agree. That's it, the end. The only thing that mattered was that I loved writing and believed deep down in my heart that I was good. If I thought that, then surely there were other people in the world who would, too.
So, I started writing again. After a three year hiatus I had a lot to say. Poems came rushing out of me at a pace I hadn't seen since I first discovered poetry. I made sure I did a little writing everyday, even if it was just a bit of tinkering. I never forced it. When I had some time to spare, I'd write. Not sticking to a strict schedule made writing less of a chore and more recreational.
As the poems started piling up, I began researching literary magazines. Your work is more likely to be published by a magazine that publishes work that sounds and looks like yours. So, I went in search of literary magazines that sounded like me! I created an excel spreadsheet containing the name, website, and accepted genres of every online and print magazine in America. When all was said and done there were just under 500 magazines on the list. I read almost each and every one of them. I created a color code indicating which magazines would definitely accept my work, which ones might, and which ones definitely wouldn't. About half of the 500 were publications that would never ever accept my work. About 25% were coded as maybes, and the remaining 25% as strong matches.
I reviewed all of the strong matches and submitted poems to three magazines I felt were most in line with my aesthetic. Of those initial submissions, two out of the three magazines accepted my work. I was floored. I'd been expecting three rejection emails. I was expecting the editors of these publications to react to my work the same way all the students in my college writing workshops had. But, they didn't. No, they read my work and decided it was so good they wanted to share it with other people. I still find it incredible that someone would react that way to something I've written. I never imagined that I would have such good luck right off the bat. Never, ever, ever.
By the end of 2008 I will have had eight poems published in six different literary magazines, and one awaiting publication next year. I feel lucky. I am so grateful to all the magazine editors who have looked at my work and decided they wanted to put it in their magazine. Luck definitely played a part in all this, but not as much as you'd think. It's hard for me to admit, but I made a lot of it happen all by myself. I did the research necessary to locate appropriate publications, I wrote and revised the poems, I composed the cover letters and met the deadlines, I possessed the perserverance necessary to continue submitting in the face of rejection, and the courage to take the leap in the first place.
Back in July when I got my first acceptance letter from a national print journal, I asked "How is that possible?"![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
starstealingirl replied "Um, because you're awesome. Duh." And, you know what? She's right. I've been writing poetry for almost fifteen years. Frankly, I'd be ashamed of myself if I hadn't improved a little during that period. Fifteen years is a long time to practice and refine one's craft. I've worked hard, I've endured a lot of criticism, and I've become a stronger writer.
There are several interesting things I've noticed about my writing over the last year. For one, I've found that the more specific the subject of a poem, the more likely it is to get published. All of the poems that have been accepted for publication are about very specific people and situations. The poems that are more general in scope do not get picked up. Like they taught us in workshop, it's easier to find the universal in the specific.
I've been thinking a lot about the words I use to describe my writing process. I've discovered that, for me, the act of writing is all about location. When revising or asking for feedback on a particular work I'll often ask "Where's the poem?" meaning, what is the central idea here? What should I be focusing on? Is this working? My goal is to find the poem I hope is hidden somewhere in that first or second or third draft. In my mind, the poem is already there. It exists somewhere in it's completed form and I just have to uncover it. Same goes for trying to find the perfect word or phrase.
The process of submission has also become a matter of finding. I tell my poems not to worry because I'm going to find a home for them. When researching lit mags that's how I evaluate them. I ask "would this be a good home for my work?"
I love finding stuff. I don't necessarily like looking, but I love finding the exact thing I'm looking for. That's a great feeling; the "Ah-ha!", the "YES!", the "Yeah, baby!", the "I did it!" That's why I love doing research so much. There is nothing quite as satisfying as finding and putting into coherent form lots of information.
And speaking of research, Beth Ann and Monica were right, you absolutely MUST read and research every literary magazine you can get your hands on if you want to be published. I used to scoff at the idea. I thought it was a waste of time to do research when you could just submit blindly. I was a fool. i know I'm repeating myself here, but you have a better chance of getting published if you submit to publications that routinely publish work that looks and sounds like yours, and the only way you are going to find those publications is by doing research.
Most of all, I've learned that you can't give up. In the publishing world it isn't necessarily the best writers who succeed, it's the ones who won't give up. I read somewhere that a lot of good writers never get published because they find the process of submission too demoralizing. But a lot of mediocre writers succeed because they won't take no for an answer. In my case, finally realizing that there wasn't a rejection letter in the world that could possibly be any more cruel than the shit Andy, Jen, Eileen, and Dave used to say to me in workshop is what made me take the leap. I'd already weathered the harshest and most useless of criticism, so I had nothing to fear.
I'm on a submitting break right now. Decided I'd give myself the summer off. But, I took inventory last night and discovered that I have about thirteen poems that are submission ready. That's enough to submit to four magazines, since I like to send three poems at a time. So, I may have to get back on the ball and send some of this stuff out. It has gotten to the point where I start getting twitchy if my poetry isn't under consideration somewhere.
You know what the strangest thing about all this is? I don't feel any different. I though I'd feel different once I was published - vindicated, more capable, justified. And, I do, but I still feel like myself. I don't feel special. I'm still the same insecurity ridden girl writing poetry in her notebook. Only difference is that now I have the tools to bring those scribbled pages into print.
I'm not a big fan of writer's reference books. On the whole I find them too strict, authoritarian, and inflexible. It was the title of Gore's book that caught my eye. Bold and brazen, it made me want to find out of she could deliver on the promise of seeing my words in print and my name in lights.
Gore's book made me realize there are two categories of information every writer needs in order to succeed: there's the stuff they need to KNOW and the stuff they need to HEAR. Aspiring writers need to know that they will face tons of rejection and learn how to deal with that; they need to know how to revise and how to properly submit a manuscript; they need to know how to query an agent and market themselves. The need-to-knows are the nuts and bolts, the realities of life as a writer.
But writers, particularly new and struggling ones, need to HEAR that they are genuinely talented, that their work is pure genius, otherwise they will never be able to muster the motivation or confidence to move forward with their work. In junior high and high school my writing was constantly praised by my teachers and classmates, and I got used to the accolades. I was the resident writer. No one could best me in that arena.
College, however, was a different story. For the first time in my life I was surrounded by people who were better writers than I was. Suddenly, I wasn't so hot. Students and teachers alike ripped my poetry and my self-esteem to shreds in workshop, and I graduated thinking that I had zero talent and no hope of ever making it as a writer. So, I stopped writing. Deprived of any positive feedback other than that offered by my friends, my confidence plummeted and my motivation disappeared.
It wasn't until I picked up How to Become a Famous Writer Before You're Dead that I found the positive feedback I needed to get myself going again. In it, Gore tells the reader that their work is brilliant! The sort of creative genius other writers kick themselves wishing they could produce. She also reminds the reader that there are TONS of ways to get your writing into the hands of the reading public: you can submit to literary magazines, start your own literary magazine, self-publish, create and distribute your own broadsides. She does not turn up her nose at vanity publishing, believing that any avenue which succeeds at getting your work to the public is acceptable. Most of all, she reminds the reader that it isn't raw talent that gets a writer published, it's persistence. You just have to keep cranking out the work and sending it to editors, even when the rejection slips are piling up. Eventually your work will cross the desk of someone who likes what you do. All it takes is one set of eyes to get you in print.
That was exactly what I needed to hear. I realized that I'd always believed in my own work, I'd always believed that I had something relevent to say, and just because a bunch of English snobs at a liberal arts college didn't agree didn't mean I was wrong. It didn't mean that I had no talent, no future, and no technique. It just meant they didn't agree. That's it, the end. The only thing that mattered was that I loved writing and believed deep down in my heart that I was good. If I thought that, then surely there were other people in the world who would, too.
So, I started writing again. After a three year hiatus I had a lot to say. Poems came rushing out of me at a pace I hadn't seen since I first discovered poetry. I made sure I did a little writing everyday, even if it was just a bit of tinkering. I never forced it. When I had some time to spare, I'd write. Not sticking to a strict schedule made writing less of a chore and more recreational.
As the poems started piling up, I began researching literary magazines. Your work is more likely to be published by a magazine that publishes work that sounds and looks like yours. So, I went in search of literary magazines that sounded like me! I created an excel spreadsheet containing the name, website, and accepted genres of every online and print magazine in America. When all was said and done there were just under 500 magazines on the list. I read almost each and every one of them. I created a color code indicating which magazines would definitely accept my work, which ones might, and which ones definitely wouldn't. About half of the 500 were publications that would never ever accept my work. About 25% were coded as maybes, and the remaining 25% as strong matches.
I reviewed all of the strong matches and submitted poems to three magazines I felt were most in line with my aesthetic. Of those initial submissions, two out of the three magazines accepted my work. I was floored. I'd been expecting three rejection emails. I was expecting the editors of these publications to react to my work the same way all the students in my college writing workshops had. But, they didn't. No, they read my work and decided it was so good they wanted to share it with other people. I still find it incredible that someone would react that way to something I've written. I never imagined that I would have such good luck right off the bat. Never, ever, ever.
By the end of 2008 I will have had eight poems published in six different literary magazines, and one awaiting publication next year. I feel lucky. I am so grateful to all the magazine editors who have looked at my work and decided they wanted to put it in their magazine. Luck definitely played a part in all this, but not as much as you'd think. It's hard for me to admit, but I made a lot of it happen all by myself. I did the research necessary to locate appropriate publications, I wrote and revised the poems, I composed the cover letters and met the deadlines, I possessed the perserverance necessary to continue submitting in the face of rejection, and the courage to take the leap in the first place.
Back in July when I got my first acceptance letter from a national print journal, I asked "How is that possible?"
starstealingirl replied "Um, because you're awesome. Duh." And, you know what? She's right. I've been writing poetry for almost fifteen years. Frankly, I'd be ashamed of myself if I hadn't improved a little during that period. Fifteen years is a long time to practice and refine one's craft. I've worked hard, I've endured a lot of criticism, and I've become a stronger writer.There are several interesting things I've noticed about my writing over the last year. For one, I've found that the more specific the subject of a poem, the more likely it is to get published. All of the poems that have been accepted for publication are about very specific people and situations. The poems that are more general in scope do not get picked up. Like they taught us in workshop, it's easier to find the universal in the specific.
I've been thinking a lot about the words I use to describe my writing process. I've discovered that, for me, the act of writing is all about location. When revising or asking for feedback on a particular work I'll often ask "Where's the poem?" meaning, what is the central idea here? What should I be focusing on? Is this working? My goal is to find the poem I hope is hidden somewhere in that first or second or third draft. In my mind, the poem is already there. It exists somewhere in it's completed form and I just have to uncover it. Same goes for trying to find the perfect word or phrase.
The process of submission has also become a matter of finding. I tell my poems not to worry because I'm going to find a home for them. When researching lit mags that's how I evaluate them. I ask "would this be a good home for my work?"
I love finding stuff. I don't necessarily like looking, but I love finding the exact thing I'm looking for. That's a great feeling; the "Ah-ha!", the "YES!", the "Yeah, baby!", the "I did it!" That's why I love doing research so much. There is nothing quite as satisfying as finding and putting into coherent form lots of information.
And speaking of research, Beth Ann and Monica were right, you absolutely MUST read and research every literary magazine you can get your hands on if you want to be published. I used to scoff at the idea. I thought it was a waste of time to do research when you could just submit blindly. I was a fool. i know I'm repeating myself here, but you have a better chance of getting published if you submit to publications that routinely publish work that looks and sounds like yours, and the only way you are going to find those publications is by doing research.
Most of all, I've learned that you can't give up. In the publishing world it isn't necessarily the best writers who succeed, it's the ones who won't give up. I read somewhere that a lot of good writers never get published because they find the process of submission too demoralizing. But a lot of mediocre writers succeed because they won't take no for an answer. In my case, finally realizing that there wasn't a rejection letter in the world that could possibly be any more cruel than the shit Andy, Jen, Eileen, and Dave used to say to me in workshop is what made me take the leap. I'd already weathered the harshest and most useless of criticism, so I had nothing to fear.
I'm on a submitting break right now. Decided I'd give myself the summer off. But, I took inventory last night and discovered that I have about thirteen poems that are submission ready. That's enough to submit to four magazines, since I like to send three poems at a time. So, I may have to get back on the ball and send some of this stuff out. It has gotten to the point where I start getting twitchy if my poetry isn't under consideration somewhere.
You know what the strangest thing about all this is? I don't feel any different. I though I'd feel different once I was published - vindicated, more capable, justified. And, I do, but I still feel like myself. I don't feel special. I'm still the same insecurity ridden girl writing poetry in her notebook. Only difference is that now I have the tools to bring those scribbled pages into print.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
hi hon
Date: 2008-09-07 03:47 pm (UTC)I understand insecurities though--I had to read one of my poems in class the other day. We were supposed to look at a poem that combined elements of the lyric and the narrative. Since all my poems are mainly narrative--I brought in one that was more lyrical (although it is hard to tell the difference sometimes). Everyone read their poems, and I was thinking--shit, they are more talented than I am, why the hell did I choose this poem to read when I have narrative ones that are better. And then I felt--maybe I shouldn't write cause I won't be as good as them. It really stilts your creativity when you start to think like that. I need to read Ariel or Natalie Goldberg again. I do have one really pretentious girl in my class that makes our old pretentious people look like muppets on Mr. Rogers. She is snobby. I forgot about people like that---luckily there are only two or so like this in my program thus far. But they suck a lot.
Anyways take care, dear.
Re: hi hon
Date: 2008-09-08 01:45 pm (UTC)