What’s Happened, What’s Next: SOME ANNOUNCEMENTS
What’s Happened
Great news! THE ADVOCATE was rejected by the New Yorker this week! I’d sent it to them six months ago. Anyway, this is what a rejection note from the foremost short story outlet in the United States looks like:
Fancy, right? I’m assuming “evident merit” refers to the fact that I’d successfully attached my story as a document? Or that the sentences all ended in punctuation marks versus just trailing off?
I received my first rejection from the New Yorker in 1995, when I was 25. I’ve now been writing on purpose for 17 years. First of all, wow, that’s a depressing amount of time, especially considering that the work has been passable-to-good for maybe six of those years. (Um, the most recent six, of course.) But second of all, this one 17 years later, it’s the same rejection! I’m pretty sure my work has improved between the first thing I ever sent them and now, when I’ve been published in numerous other magazines and had an award-winning book, but according to the New Yorker rejection-bot I remain the same exact level of rejectability. Literary robot, you cut me to the quick, sir!
Look, I didn’t really expect to get into the New Yorker. It would’ve been nice, but I’m not a stupid. So why did I submit in the first place to a magazine I knew would reject me? Because it’s The Way It’s Done.
The Way It’s Done, if you’re a short story writer, is this:
- You write a story;
- You send it out to a bunch of literary magazines;
- You wait for months. You may wait for a year*;
- Eventually, you hear back: Maybe some don’t want your story, maybe one does;
- The ones who don’t send you something called a “rejection note”;
- The closest most of the general population will get to receiving such a communication is by not paying a bill;
- In the creative arts, people seek this out as much as possible, because that is The Way It’s Done.
*Which reminds me: fuck you, Zoetrope All-Story. Why are not-for-profit magazines with all-volunteer staffs quicker than you? Aren’t there like a thousand Coppolas you can put on the job?
This short story business seems crazy, right? And also not like much of a business? As for the New Yorker, I’m a little stumped as to why they even bother taking unsolicited or unagented submissions. It’s kind of like American Idol. I know they show stadiums full of people at the auditions for AI, but how many of those people get to go in and meet Randy Jackson and J.Lo? I’m pretty sure the people you see going into the room on TV are ALL the people who ever go in.
In summation: Submitting your short fiction to the New Yorker and elsewhere, if you’re me and you write the kind of stuff I do, is dumb. I write a kind of story that is very specific and not necessarily what lit mags are looking for. And yet, I have a perverse desire to have my work read by people. So there HAS to be a different way other than The Way It’s Done. Which brings me to…
What’s Next
Beginning in late March, I will be publishing short prose in the Kindle format, just like I did THE ADVOCATE. I will do this ONCE A MONTH. Most of the Kindle pieces will be new short stories. Occasionally, I’ll put up an occasional piece from The Book of Right and Wrong, so that readers may sample that work. Month to month, I may throw in the occasional essay or a chapter from the novel-in-progress. Some publications will be 99 cents (free for Amazon Prime members), some will be free to everyone. ALL will continue to be sharable.
“Who are you trying to be,” you say, “some kind of, uh, Charles Dickens-type guy?”
Yes. Yes, I am. Because not only did Dickens publish his work for the enjoyment of readers on a regular basis – sometimes weekly, sometimes monthly – who do you suppose published Charles Dickens’ serialized work? Why, Charles Dickens did. Certainly, publishing has changed a lot since then, but need it have?
We live in desperate times for fiction, and downright dire ones for the short story, a format I happen to love. With the publication of THE ADVOCATE, I was stunned by how many people were willing to read a short story in 2012. This tells me there’s a future for this kind of fiction. So who’s up for more future? Will you come with me on this wild journey? Will you start a Kickstarter to get my fiction taught in every middle school in America and its territories?
You are my reader pal and you are the best. And in return, I promise to deliver a stunning series of literary offerings at competitive prices. Watch this space. You’re gonna get boners about short fiction in 2012.
Love,
Matt Debenham
Matt,
I love and respect this plan. I have at least a semi already. Forgive me for raising a question you have surely already considered: are the publishers of TBORAW–and their lawyers–cool with the resale of individual stories from the book? Were their rights limited to first North American, etc.?
Anyway, you’ll figure it out and make it work. I look forward to the new stuff eagerly.
PJ
I loved “The Advocate” but it also got me thinking about how much easier/more likely it’s going to be for me to sample short stories (which I really do love) with the surge in e-publishing (and my getting a Kindle for Christmas). I kind of love this idea, is what I’m saying, and I very much look forward to seeing where it goes.
If the market doesn’t want short stories and readers do, it’s the market that needs to be eliminated from the equation.
Eric – you mean murder, right? Seems extreme.
PJ – Great question. Awaiting final word from the publisher on this. However, the stories were always going to be in that “free” category – strictly promotional to drive people toward purchasing the book. Also, I’m curious about how it works with a collection of individual stories — if I alter a story slightly for republishing, is that a total copyright violation, or is it the equivalent of a band re-recording a song? I’ll keep you posted!
I’m just saying we can’t have the market singing like a canary, Debenham. Let me know, I’ll make the call.
Back in 1995, I submitted my first story and I knew better then to try a major publication like TNY. Some of these obscure, back-of-the-magazine-rack journals with names like “Harper’s” respond in *less than two weeks.* Nice stationery too.
Brian,
My fastest rejection was from The Atlantic, where several faculty suggested I submit after having attended my grad reading. Got it back in a week and a half. Great stationery, and maybe three typewritten lines of text: “There’s some good work here, but the language is problematic and the situation isn’t very telling.” Well! I guess he told me! Anyway, it remains my favorite rejection letter of all time.
Matt
That Mike Curtis is a real tease. He told me that they had already decided to publish a story that was similar to mine– but written by a native speaker.