Dear Fine Literary Folks,
It’s been a while since we’ve posted new work and appreciate your patience with us as we moved our headquarters across the country. We’ve readjusted our schedule and here are some new dates to pay attention to:
We have an upcoming post about our first year as a press, including: what we think worked, what we think didn’t, and what we’d like to see in 2014. We’re looking forward to sharing that and much more in the upcoming weeks. As always, please keep in touch, and stayed tuned.
Thanks for all the love and support.
UPDATE: We are currently sending out responses. Please expect to hear from us by October 31, 2013.
After 23 hours repairing
ice storm damage, the lineman
falls into bed and dreams
of watching his children grow
out of their shoes.
―Todd Jailer from Working Classics: Poems on Industrial Life
At what point in your writing process are you able to view your work with a more objective eye?
Sending work out did change my work, though. When I knew that the poems were going to be read by a stranger, I cleaned them up. And when I got them back rejected, I could see them with a really cold eye. ―Kay Ryan in an interview with the Paris Review
What’s lived is gone, a blissful
hit. The last unraveled green.
I get your need now
Its half-breath from transcendence.
―Cristina Garcia, The Lesser Tragedy of Death
We’ve shared Chuck Wendig’s 25 tips on rejection before, but it’s so good you ought to read it again:
Rejection has value. It teaches us when our work or our skillset is not good enough and must be made better. This is a powerful revelation, like the burning UFO wheel seen by the prophet Ezekiel, or like the McRib sandwich shaped like the Virgin Mary seen by the prophet Steve Jenkins. Rejection refines us. Those who fall prey to its enervating soul-sucking tentacles are doomed. Those who persist past it are survivors. Best ask yourself the question: what kind of writer are you? The kind who survives? Or the kind who gets asphyxiated by the tentacles of woe?
Stafford: They can be done without, I would say. But on the other hand, in my own case, I like sociability and I like to be around other writers and I like the feeling that it is OK to be a writer. And in the big society not very many people are. You may feel odd or lonesome. Are you really doing something that normal people can do and get away with? You can go to a workshop and meet a lot of people who have similar interests and they talk about what they are reading and writing. I like workshops and though I don’t think they are essential I do think they are convenient and fun and, for many people, helpful. I don’t really see any harm in them. Even in workshops you can go away and write if you want to. It’s allowed.
Below is a tiny excerpt from our June short story by Mel Bosworth and Ryan Ridge:
He decided to propose during intercourse. Here’s what he proposed: “How about I take this condom off?” She accepted. Then, midway through intercourse—you could tell it was midway because of the giant game-clock on the ceiling—she presented a proposition of her own…
Read the rest here!
'My whole life has been one of rejection,' America's most successful cartoonist says. 'Women. Dogs. Comic strips.' A moment of silence while this curious information sinks in.
'I've been reading F. Scott Fitzgerald's short stories lately,' he goes on. 'I like them because everyone gets rejected. Ever read 'The Rich Boy?' He frequently puts his head in his hand and cries.'
―Charles M. Schulz in a 1996 interview with The Washington Post.