In an
effort to see what kind of clothes the emperor is wearing today, I checked out several
of the thumbnail descriptions provided by some of the nation’s top literary
magazines on Duotrope.
The
experience was illuminating.
Once
again, literary people prove themselves to be among the least imaginative
people around. Here’s an amalgamation of what I found:
INSERT NAME HERE publishes a
wide variety of the best possible work by a bunch of different kinds of writers.
Don’t
believe me? Here are a few descriptive statements, culled randomly (and
quickly) from listings that the journals themselves provide. Mind you, I would
be delighted to have my work appear in any of these journals. And lest I appear
too judgmental of others, I even included my own journal—I won’t say where.
- We provide a venue for writers of any background, at any point in their literary careers, to showcase their best writing.
- Past contributors include winners of [top literary prizes], and many writers seeing their work in print for the first time.
- We are equally interested in work by both new and established writers.
- XXX seeks to identify and encourage emerging writers while also attracting the work of established writers to create a diverse and compelling magazine.
- We are interested in prose and poetry that experiment with form, narrative, and nontraditional subject matter, as well as more traditional literary work.
- XXX publishes poetry, fiction, nonfiction, and art by Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award winners alongside up-and-coming writers.
- By publishing new fiction, poetry, and nonfiction that is both challenging and inviting, XXX encourages artistic exchange and thought-provoking innovation, while also providing publishing opportunities to writers at all stages in their careers.
- We are a general interest literary quarterly. Our watchword is quality.
- XXX is an international literary journal dedicated to our mission of publishing the best contemporary fiction, poetry, nonfiction, and translations.
- XXX publishes poetry, short fiction, and essays.
- XXX has published quality literature since [year].
Often,
editors are among the first to complain that there is too much work—that
writers submit indiscriminately; that simultaneous submissions flood their
systems; that submitters too vastly outnumber subscribers. Editors want less
slush and more of the good stuff.
As do
we all, in all areas of life.
However,
let’s turn the lens around for a moment and ask the fair question: Why do
people who pretty much uniformly seek the best and most innovative work have so
little of quality to say about their own product?
Obviously,
themed journals have it a little easier. Additionally, when a journal publishes
only one genre, it’s easier to be descriptive about it. A journal that
publishes poetry, essays, and fiction almost has to be general in a brief
description, because it’s hard to cover all of these genres in a brief
paragraph.
A
journal I work on as interviews editor, SmokeLong
Quarterly, has a very cool mission, and this is reflected in its
description:
The SLQ aesthetic
remains an ever-changing, ever-elusive set of principles, but it most likely
has to do with these kinds of things: * language that surprises * narratives
that strive toward something other than a final punch line or twist * pieces
that add up to something, oftentimes (but not necessarily always) meaning or
emotional resonance * honest work that feels as if it has far more purpose than
a writer wanting to write a story. We have a special place in our hearts, more
often than not, for narratives we haven't seen before. For the more familiar
stories—such as relationship break-ups, bar scenarios, terminal illnesses—we
tend to need something original and urgent in the writer's presentation. We are
all writers at SLQ, and we try to be
sensitive to the nature of submitting your work—which we realize is often your
very private and important selves—to strangers. We so appreciate your
entrusting us with your submissions, and although author names and bios are
available to us, the staff rarely, if ever, accesses this information before
reading each piece. In short, we want what all readers want from you—something
sincerely and uniquely yours, something that stands up to rereading and lingers
in our consciousness long after.
Nowhere
in here is the whole “established and new” thing, and nowhere is the notion
that we print the best quality work. These ideas can be assumed as we work to
describe what it is we love to see. It’s still a little general—it’s uniquely yours, it lingers. But I think this is an excellent stab at what I’d like to
see a lot more of—a journal’s personality coming through in the way it talks
about itself and the work it does.
I,
ahem, reject the mission statements
of most literary journals—so few of them measure up to the actual missions they
carry out as they do the vital work of unleashing new literature on the reading
public. I’d like to call for a more thoughtful approach to describing the work
we do as editors, even as we constantly call for writers to up their game and to
be fresh and innovative themselves.
It’s only
fair.
An extremely good post. I do think there are reasons for some of this vagueness, though:
ReplyDeleteEditors don't want to miss out on good submissions by making their requirements too specific.
Editors may not be aware of just how specific their own requirements and tastes are (or they are aware but want to project an air of openness nonetheless, hoping that something comes along and surprises them).
They know that writers, even good ones, often lack self-confidence, and are afraid of discouraging new and uncertain writers from submitting.
And maybe, if they keep their descriptions vague, more people will subscribe to the magazine to see what it's all about. Because, and this is a subject I'd love you to tackle, there seem to be a lot more people submitting work to literary journals than actually reading them.
None of this is to say that vague descriptions are a good idea. But I can see a number of rationalizations for it, valid or otherwise.
Those sound like pretty good explanations to me. Like you, I question whether vagueness in the service of openness is a good strategy. We tend to really like those journals that seem distinctive in some way. I like the SmokeLong mission not because it says anything terrifically fresh, but because some personality and voice shine through. A journal should have a voice.
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