I write a personalized letter to everyone who sends their work to me. I do that for several reasons. One: because I can. It takes less than a minute and we don’t yet have so many applications that I lack the time to address each one. Two: because other publications can’t. You can send your poetry/prose/essay to me or Kenyon Review. So why would you send it to me? Because of this. Because I’ll read your stuff and give you my honest opinion on it.
I actually feel good about this thing I do. It’s meaningful to me. I get a lot of pieces I would not publish in their current form, but I would publish with a revision or two. And I get a lot of writers who are just Not Ready for Prime Time. Maybe English is not their first language. Maybe they’re trying a new hobby and their attempts to get published are premature. Maybe they didn’t attend creative writing classes at the fancy college their parents paid for them to attend like I did. There are lots of reasons I feel the scale is unbalanced and so I do what I can.
Receiving Rejection Letters… to my Rejection Letters
I’m not claiming I’m a saint. And I’m not claiming I know everything. But this scenario has happened more than once: I write a rejection letter explaining to a prospective author how I think they might improve their writing… And I get an email in response. Does this email say: “Thank you for your feedback!” or “I’d love to take a class with you”? Well. You’ll see.
The point is that I didn’t expect to have to institute this policy. But here goes: If I write a rejection letter and you write a complainy response to that rejection letter, then I remove your name and post your ‘submission’ here. Why? I don’t know.
Maybe it’s because so far it’s only been smug religious people who send me their smug religious poetry and are shocked that I’m not interested. Maybe it’s because you asked me for my feedback. I did not ask you for yours. That is a meaningful distinction. Maybe it’s because I really am trying to offer invaluable constructive criticism to new writers; criticism I would have hungered for when I started writing in earnest some twenty years ago. Maybe it’s because it bothers me in my kishkes how much this kind of thing bothers me; how easy it is for one person to shout at another person on the internet. So I’m using the selfsame internet to exact my petty, petty revenge.
Quick Note:
This isn’t about the typos. Emails have typos. Even submissions to literary magazines have typos. I’ve never rejected a piece for an excess of typos and never will. Also: I ENCOURAGE RESPONSES. If you’re not clear on what I mean by something? Ask! Let’s start a conversation! And if you got a rejection letter, STILL feel free to join us on Facebook and Discord to find ways to grow as a writer.
Submissions are Welcome! Really!
To the Reader:
Please feel free to submit your work! I would even welcome responses to my emails if you have questions or desire clarification on anything. I promise not to make fun of you on the Rejection Letter Page of Shame unless you act like an entitled dickbiscuit.
Sincerely and Respectfully,
Adam
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