Ask the Editors | How to Get Involved

Ask the Editors | How to Get Involved

Rae Bryant with BooksIn “Ask the Editors | How Do I Find Writing Community,” I discussed a writing student’s question regarding the topic and how being a writer is, by nature, an isolating craft. I mentioned a few general guidelines–getting involved, finding writer groups, being open to potential mentors–but I didn’t go into specifics. A reader wisely responded in an email: “Dear Rae. Read your article on community but could get no insight into the main questions–i.e. how to get community. The story regarding hardships. Is it yours or Malkovich’s?”

I had to chuckle a little at the question on hardships and Malkovich. To answer: Yes, my mother brought me home to a trailer. Yes, I’m still paying off student loans. Yes, I was a single mother, at one time, trying to finish a graduate degree and working a full time job. It is possible that John Malkovich lived in a trailer and was a single parent pursuing a graduate degree and is paying off student loans, but I’m assuming any student loans he may have had early in his life have been satisfied at this point. More importantly, though, I’d like to respond to the specific question of how to get involved, because I think too many new writers and writing students still collected in the safe haven of the university womb have a particular idea of writing and writing community that rarely, if ever, is the reality.

More than once, I’ve taught workshops on campuses, at conferences, etcetera, where writing students are working under the belief that if they can just write the great American novel, an agent and big NY house editor is going to seek them out and swoop them up and all is going to be some linguistic version of a fairy tale. Sadly, this is not the usual experience. I dare say, it is a rarity. And the writers who do succeed in having their work picked up by an agent and editor often spend years wallowing in uncertainty, a constant questioning of self and craft and often asking themselves, Why am I doing this? The writers who are ultimately successful are often the ones who stick with it and work, work, work on craft. They often join writing communities and spend as much time supporting the good works of others as they do themselves. So what do you do in the meantime, while you’re wallowing and writing and improving your craft? You find like-minded writers who share your values and build relationships while guarding your writing time, butt in seat, hands at the pen or the keys, like a dog guarding its meat.

First, the Bukowski Model. Charles Bukowski, a much beloved author at Eckleburg, is a fantastic study on voice and dark humor, though, not so much on gender. The Bukowski is the sort of writer you will meet time to time, in many different venues. This writer will be funny and entertaining and even sometimes poignant, but this isn’t necessarily the writer who is going to be your best teacher or mentor for finding your own voice. The Bukowski will throw you in the deep end, which isn’t such a bad approach, though he will also laugh and drink whiskey while you drown. Be cautious of the Bukowskis whether or not they come with an MFA. Especially if they come with an MFA.


The writing community is full of as many different aesthetics, priorities and community models as any market or industry. Before jumping in and getting involved–i.e. volunteering for a literary journal, starting a journal of your own, reviewing books, running a reading series, etc.–seriously ask yourself what values you have as a writer and community member and how you plan to identify these same values in the community, journal, reading series, reviews venue and so on. Keep in mind that there is a lot of talent in the writing community. Many talented writers, talented editors, talent, talent, talent. But this is only one piece of a complex makeup. 

I learned early on that I have three main values I seek and try to model. I am not always perfect at modeling them and I try to remember that others are not always perfect in modeling them as well, but I do look for these when considering venues, individuals, and so on. (1) Craft. It always comes back to the narrative. I value others who believe in craft over marketing, following, Twittering, FBing, cliquing and so on. (2) Gender & diversity. Being a woman, I understand the position of gender and diversity and recognize the necessity of being aware. (3) Consistency. I have seen too many talented writers and editors start up and stop and move onto something else and take on too much until their career looks more like an entrepreneurial focus than a craft and community focus. I’ve always held that when Eckleburg first started (originally as Moon Milk Review), I had a responsibility to my contributors and staff to keep the journal going, take small and sustainable steps. I have had opportunities presented to me over the last few years that might have been flashier, and overall, more beneficial to my personal writing/editorial career, but I started Eckleburg and though it might be smaller and less flashy than other journals, I intend to keep it going as long as I have breath. Because I have a responsibility to our contributors, readers and staff. I founded it alone. It is my baby. To abandon it, even to pass it off, seems somehow wrong. Consistency. Craft. Gender & diversity. These are my main three focuses when considering value in writing community. I look for these when engaging myself or Eckleburg with other communities. So the first question I would ask a new writer looking for community is, what are your main values?

Once you’ve decided upon what is most important to you regarding writing community, spend time researching, reading, getting out to meet editors at events. Don’t jump into things without being certain the quality of the group and journal with which you are engaging will reflect the quality of your craft, personality and goals. Do not jump into a volunteer position with a big magazine simply because they are currently trending. Do not over-volunteer. You will quickly run out of resources, time and energy and all your projects will suffer. Keep in mind that indie editors are very aware of the intern/volunteer conundrum. We have all been there, for the most part. Many of us are volunteer and actually put our own funds into keeping our journal going. We all took our hits and worked worked worked. Because of this, we will more often than not, be helpful and gracious regarding volunteer schedules and will simply ask that you let us know what you are able to do and not do. But we do need to count on your commitment and consistency on projects to which you’ve committed. 

You might be asking, but I want to know how to find a writing community that will help me write, not edit. In this case, I would suggest researching programs, online writer groups, local writer groups… There is no easy answer to this. You will have more access to writer groups simply by being involved with or volunteering with a literary journal, but this may or may not result in someone wanting to exchange critiques on short stories. Editors are very busy people. They are often pulled in more directions by more people than they can accommodate. They struggle to find time to write between family, editing and teaching, and they often have spent a good deal of time and money on programs to improve their own craft, editing and teaching. Asking them to spend time giving you feedback for free, unless they have offered or are receptive to a mentoring or reciprocal relationship, is unfair if one thinks on it. (Keep in mind a reciprocal relationship is built on a pairing of like aesthetics and craft levels so it can be very lovely for a new writer to offer reciprocal readings and feedback, and an objective read is always helpful, but it may not always give the in depth and experienced feedback that will be helpful to a writer who has been doing this for years.) Editors and writers are professionals. Their craft and time are valuable to them and it should be to you, too. For this reason, when approaching more experienced writers, it is often best to do it through professional writing workshop venues. There are online workshops, campus workshops, summer workshops, journal workshops, conference workshops and so on. Just a few would be The Eckleburg WorkshopsGotham Writers WorkshopsSackett Street WritersThe Writers Center and many more. Many literary journals offer fantastic summer workshops, such as Tin House and One Story. These workshops are excellent venues for improving craft, making connections and receiving feedback on your work. 

If you do not have the resources for paid workshops, conferences or programs, then you can research open critique groups online; however, keep in mind these venues might be a combination of both experienced and inexperienced writers. Like any profession, those who put education and resources behind their craft will more often than not be the more successful and capable professional. Writing is no different. Really it isn’t. Sure, there are savants who can pick up a pen or a book and learn in short time how to remove an appendix. But I wouldn’t suggest having the savant try to teach you how to remove your own appendix. Not to say MFA and MA programs are for everyone. Surely not. But there are many writing workshops both online and brick and mortar that employ experienced, credentialed and published writing instructors at a far better rate than university programs while still offering the needed structure and professionalism of a program. One additional benefit is that you might find a more diverse artistic aesthetic in the non-university workshops. 

If the workshop, conference and journal volunteering options aren’t right for you, then no worries. You CAN write alone. Writing is an isolating craft by nature. The isolation is essential if you want to form individual voice and context, versus becoming what might be considered a “clique” writer. 

If time and resources force you to go it alone, for the most part, and you find yourself needing community, go to a local reading, introduce yourself, hang out, have a coffee or a beer or a glass of wine. Consider saving up for a workshop. A workshop every once in a while can do great things for your momentum and sense of belonging and you will likely meet at least one or two people who share your aesthetic. 

Most importantly, identify first what is most important to you about your writing and identify how these values might be reflected in your ideal writing community. Be specific. Finding a fantastic writing community is a little like finding love. When you understand yourself as a writer and understand your values in craft, then you will be ready to seek it in others.


Ask the Editors | How Do I Find Writing Community?

Ask the Editors | How Do I Find Writing Community?

Rae Bryant with BooksOne of my workshop students, a talented, new in her craft writer, asked the question about writing community and how one finds a community in which to give and receive feedback when one has little means by which to secure it? This question brought me back to a time,  not so long ago, when I was right where she is now. I haven’t thought so intently on that feeling of new uncertainty for a good while. Uncertainty, for writers, seems to have many levels of progression. I am everyday certain I’ve discovered a new level of Dante’s Hell and Uncertainty in the Creative Craft. Traversing this very new step in “being the writer” is not so unlike Being John Malkovich. Here is what I could offer:

“It’s not easy. Those of us who have done it (with kids and little money, especially) have suffered in a number of ways due to it. I was born in a trailer park. I came from nothing. My parents spent what nest they were able to build in bankruptcy. I’m still paying off student loans. I had to work and scrape my way through it all, as have many writers. Literary isn’t easy for women, especially. A lot of boy’s clubs and setbacks, if you don’t play that game. But if you want it badly enough and you dedicate yourself to making it [the writing] happen, you can make it happen. It won’t be easy. You’ll get banged up a little. You’ll wish you had more money and time. It won’t be what you thought it was going to be. Sometimes you’ll wonder why you chose to dedicate yourself to such an isolating passion, because make no mistake, the craft of writing, when done well, will be isolating and sometimes painful. Those of us who do it, do it because we truly have no choice. The craft gets into you and you can’t see yourself doing anything else. Anything else will bore you to death and make life even more miserable than being a writer. All this said, I am thankful every day for narrative and stories. I am a more fully developed person and intellect for it. I believe narrative, fiction in particular, is the deepest form of human connectivity. We can have our most important conversations through our characters without beating each other over the head with a soapbox sort of agenda.

So, I guess this is to say, you have a lot on your plate and you are seeking writing community and are limited, as you describe, in how you can achieve it. Before going down this rabbit hole any further, see this thing called writing for what it is. Truly, you do have narrative voice that is worth dedicating yourself to and exploring further. And there is something to be said about pieces of writing that can’t be taught but must be found by each individual writer and you are already on this path. But decide whether it is the right path with both eyes open. Too many writers start with a doe-eyed view of what the ‘writer’s life’ is. And it is never that.” 

These words poured out of me so easily and with such cynicism. I never thought it possible, this cynicism. Wouldn’t it be interesting? A CT scan at the first moment when a writer identifies as being a writer and then years later the moment when a writer realizes how truly screwed he or she is. I would like to see these films on the light screen. And we’ve done this to ourselves. Whistling into our rabbit holes. What a lovely and dominating mistress. I did give the requisite advice on getting involved and seeking trusted writing groups and to always be grateful of any willing mentor to happen along. And all the while, I’m thinking, what a lovely and dominating mistress.


Ask the Editors | Ouch! Form Rejection Letters

RaeBryant-Bryant__Editor_in_Chief-rae_bryant_iiDear Editors,

Five rejections, five form letters. My head hurts.




Hi Ouch!

Yes, five rejections. We were surprised you had submitted more than one work at a time because we ask specifically in our guidelines to submit only one work at a time through our regular fiction submissions. You can submit more than one through our Gertrude Stein Award but you had submitted through regular fiction. We’ll be happy to read more work from you but we do ask that you pay close attention to our submission guidelines.

With that said, we do understand the hurt and difficulty of having work declined, which is the word we prefer to use. Declined. Rejection is such a loaded word. Declined is a much more accurate way of saying, we value the opportunity to read your work and thank you for trusting us with it. It just wasn’t for us. Perhaps a future work will be and we wish you the best in extending this work to other journals.

We are a volunteer staff and work very hard to publish Eckleburg and offer an unsolicited submissions opportunity, which is not a requirement of journals but rather a service many journals offer because finding new voices we love as editors is important to many of us. Some journals charge a fee for unsolicited submissions year-round. We do not, though, we run our Submitters are Readers Too fundraiser in order to help cover operational costs and raise awareness of our print and digital issues and the fantastic contributors published within them.

On form declines. Yes, they are difficult to receive. We know. The truth of it is journals are not only artistic outreaches but also businesses. Our staff are real people who really read your submissions. We receive many submissions and so our time is limited in how much we can spend on unsolicited submissions while publishing the journal, tending to our families, writing our own stories and novels, as well as teaching classes, etc. We must manage our time strategically in order to make the journal sustainable. We’ve seen too many fantastic journals fall under because of talented and well-meaning editors over-extending their services and their abilities to sustain. For this reason, we do not often give personal detailed feedback. We do sometimes but not always. We will sometimes offer “we did like something” general feedback which means we did like something but because we are not a workshop submissions basis, we do not feel it our place or responsibility to instruct submitters on how to change their stories to suit our ideas of perfection. We are not the end all of aesthetics, though, we try to be very eclectic. Offering personal feedback on works that we haven’t fallen in love with would be like that guy or girl in high school who was into you but decided you weren’t the one for him or her because your laugh was a certain way or because you wore Lee jeans instead of Levis and so he or she tried to change your laugh or jeans brand in hopes of finding you more attractive. What a dick.

Remember this “love,” this artistic aesthetic and preference is very subjective. No editor is completely objective and we feel editors should never claim to be. Therefore, one journal’s response to one work does not in any way validate or invalidate a work. Aficion comes with preference. It would be irresponsible of us to instruct submitters on how to write their stories “better” when really we would be instructing submitters on how to write stories “our better.” Again, Levis instead of Lees. If you like to write Lees, go for it! In fact, once you have formed your Lees so perfectly to your butt and thighs and calves and have perfectly worn out the knees, we might even find that we like Lees too! But changing your Lees to suit us is not the craft of an editor. Change must come from within the writer. Even a single line of constructive feedback, though well meaning, can derail a direction a writer was on and potentially kill what would otherwise have been a fantastic end product. If we had the time to sit and have coffee and debate and discuss the values of Lees and Levis with you and how they fit into your craft overall and in your story specifically then perhaps we would be that writing feedback you deserve. We are able to do this for you in our Eckleburg Workshops but not in our submissions system. We consider personal feedback to be appropriate in workshop venues and/or in response to a submission only when a work is so close to our perfection already that we cannot forget it, whether or not we felt the work met its full potential or not. 

FIRST RULE: Be true to your voice and then read, read, read Eckleburg and if you love us and still want us so badly you stay up at night fantasizing about us then keep reading and writing until your work and Eckleburg have become so simpatico that we are lovers meant to be. We hope to one day be this for you but we understand if we are not. There are many journals and many editors from which to choose and we would encourage you to stick with the same plan. Read, read, read that journal until you decide you are meant to be or not. Either way, the onus is on the writer to decide if his or her work suits the journal and vice versa after reading the journal obsessively. Really. Read it obsessively. No better way. Unless an editor solicits you, which is very cool. We do solicit sometimes if an editor finds a writer and craft we adore. If we do end up providing personal feedback at some point then fantastic but it shouldn’t be a determining factor. One story might not strike us at all and then the next story might hit so perfectly we’re astounded. Such is the way of it sometimes.

You might read this and think, they could have given me personal feedback on my story faster than typing this letter! And you would be right. But again, we do not use our submissions system for “teaching” writers how to write for Eckleburg. We feel that would be arrogant of us and would not respect the first priority to individual voice and development. We have workshops, yes, but our focus there is teaching writers to write for their own voices, not Eckleburg. Focus of voice and Eckleburg sometimes coincides, yes, but we neither expect it nor require it at our workshops.

All of us at Eckleburg are writers as well as editors and we approach our responsibilities with sincere interest and energy. We consider it an honor to be trusted with your work. We hope that one day your work and our work find that relationship we all want so very much but we’re willing to wait for it. You are worth the wait. We hope we are worth the wait for you, too.

Thank you for your input. I believe your time will be better served reading Eckleburg to see if it is in fact the best market for you. If you believe we are then I suggest you thoroughly read our guidelines and submit accordingly. And remember we are only a handful of minds and hearts trying to do our best for a wide readership. Because our submitters and contributors are first and foremost Eckleburg readers, we know you understand. 

All best,

Rae Bryant

Editor in Chief