Stuff happens. Mistakes are made. There are errors, glitches,
boo-boos. Snafus. Bloopers, bumbles, and flubs.
What separates a responsible organization from the other
kind is how it handles its blunders. And when Passages North experienced a boner yesterday with its rejection
process—submitters received no fewer than three rejections because of a problem
with their software—the journal took to social media to explain the error and
to offer a sincere apology.
Here is the note Passages
North sent out today via Facebook:
Hey, friends, good morning! It came to our attention that some of our submitters received as many as three form rejections back-to-back from us yesterday. That sucks (no, seriously, it's the worst), and we're so sorry about it. Rejection is hard, and impersonal rejection is even harder. Rejection that makes you feel like the target of a spam bot is unacceptable. Obviously, rejection is the name of the game when it comes to publishing, but you always go into it hoping that the person on the other end will treat your work with care and compassion. When that doesn't happen, it's easy to feel discouraged or dehumanized, and that's the last thing we want. Our staff cares deeply about your work from top to bottom, and we're so grateful you trusted us with it. If anything we did made you feel like you were dealing with a gaggle of rude robots, we hope you'll trust that it was a result of very human error.
That said, have an excellent Thursday. Congrats on
being a writer and doing the thing. You're doing a great job.
Sincerely,
Jacqueline Boucher
Managing Editor
What I like best about this apology is that it contains an
actual apology: “We’re so sorry about it,” the managing editor writes. So
often, the apologies that we see in the literary world express regret for a
thing that mysteriously happened, and
often we see a distancing by editors—These
views are not our own.
Occasionally, too, editors apologize not for their actions,
but for our reactions—they regret that we felt a certain way in response to
whatever outrageous action or statement predicated the apology.
It’s a treat, then, to see an apology that says both “We did
it” and “We’re sorry,” and that’s what we have here in the Passages North example. Who knows why multiple rejections were sent
(and possibly lots of them—I saw a reference to the multiple rejections in a
Facebook writers’ group). Whether the software crapped out on them or a human
editor pressed “send” three times, the thing happened, and it was not intended.
I received the apology because I’m a past submitter (a.k.a.
bridesmaid) to Passages North, and I
liked the journal enough to make my “like” Facebook official. Another appealing
thing about the apology is that the managing editor connects to people like
me—those who care about the journal, and those who have possibly been in these
rejectees’ shoes.
This note acknowledges the unwritten contract between
journal and writer. We send our work expecting respect in all of its forms—a
fair shake at publication, a careful reading, a punctual response, and a
respectful attitude. And a journal has expectations, too—that the work be
original and unpublished, first and foremost, but that writers respect the
opinions and efforts of the editors. There is give and take. We wait for each
other. We give each other a chance.
My favorite part? These words: “Our staff cares deeply about
your work from top to bottom, and we’re so grateful you trusted us with it.” I
get very weary of journals that act like our submissions are a pain—just piles of
crap to be shoveled away. There are editors who claim to have too many
submissions (like that’s a thing). It’s very common for journals to close
reading periods, sometimes without even informing submitters. Very few journals
take the Passages North attitude—respect,
care, compassion. Those that do are the ones that merit our support, with our
work and our subscription dollars and our attention.
Thank you, Passages
North, and thanks to you, specifically, Jacqueline Boucher—for keeping
humanity at the fore, and for cementing your submitters’ trust while making us
feel valued and respected. That’s just the kind of magazine I’d like to be part
of. And that’s exactly why I plan to try again.
Refreshing! Thanks for sharing this. The more I submit my work, the more I get published, and the more I receive rejections. I realized recently that those years I submitted very little I was ducking rejection. I did get published each year I sent out work, but very little. Your series of posts on rejection has invited me to think about both the journey to publication, and rejection, in New ways. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteMakes me happy to hear that! Submitting is how we find readers. Our work is worth presenting! :)
DeleteYes! Darn tootin', dang straight, and yes-sir-ee!
ReplyDelete