To lit mag or not to lit mag?

If you take writing classes at a university, your professor will probably recommend a path for becoming a published author: scour the Poets & Writers website, find literary magazines that you think are cool, submit your poems to them, (sidenote: Embarrassingly, I don’t remember any professors recommending you actually read the lit mag before submitting to it, but I would consider this essential. It’s the best way to understand the vibe of the publication and gain an appreciation of it – not to mention a way to discover new poems. ) steel yourself against rejection letters (only a limited amount of poems can be submitted, so 99% of submissions are rejected), and wait until your work eventually gets published.

Let me let you in on a secret. Lit mags are usually somewhat of a vanity project, designed to pad people’s résumés. Poets want to build up a byline that says, “Sheev Palpatine is a talented poet. He has been published in The Rock, Nerdy Press, and Sad Poem Magazine;” editors want to appear on the masthead of Sad Poem Magazine, and hope a day will come when they can claim “I published some of the earliest works of Poet Laureate Sheev Palpatine.”

Maybe the editors of Sad Poem Magazine love Sad Poem Magazine; it’s their baby and they love being part of the reason that it exists. Or maybe they loved it when they started it and quickly got burnt out, realizing that a lit mag requires a lot of work and upkeep, yet they feel obligated to continue because... well, because. Or maybe the editors are a revolving door of MFA students, and Sad Poem Magazine is way for students of Blubberton University to get “real world experience” in editing and publishing.

I’ve been behind lit mags. I have been, and have met, the editors who review poems. The review team might be a fellow poet who’s mindful about engaging in people’s work and good at offering thoughtful critiques, or they might be a miserable slug bereft of sensitivity who thinks you’re a schmuck and is there to 1. pad out their résumé and 2. poop on poems because it helps them feel some sense of power and control in their chaotic life.

Literary magazines are run by people with their own tastes and hang ups, and the literary world has been convinced that this is how you “make it.” Perhaps in the 20th century, that was true. There may not have been a lot of other ways to get your work out there in a way that could reach others. But self publishing has never been as easy as it is today. You can use a printer, a computer, and/or a photocopier to make a zine or a chapbook of your own poetry. Some poets put their poems on social media and they’re happy with it. Believe it or not, I’ve read pretty good shit on Instagram when I used to use it! Other times, you can make your own website and post your stuff there.

This is the 21st century. You don’t need strangers to give you permission to be a poet.

Walt Whitman self published. Emily Dickinson mostly shared her poems with family and friends and kept most of it in her drawer. People shudder at the idea of self publishing because they don’t want to be part of The Self-Publishing Shit Volcano, but who’s to say the small lit mag they’re submitting to won’t be? Who’s to say anything on the New Poetry shelf at Barnes & Noble is going to be remembered a decade from now? What is more interesting to you: seeing “praise” from a New York Times reviewer on the back cover of a book, or hearing about a book recommendation from a friend or even just an acquaintance? Life is short, who cares? Your poems, however amateur, deserve to get out there; they make the world a better place.

If you find a lit mag that you enjoy the vibe of, if you enjoy reading its material and think you have something to contribute to it, then by all means submit to it! I’ll never deny that there is a thrill in seeing your work get published and your name printed next to it. But if, instead, you find yourself scraping the bottom of the barrel on P&W, putting sweat and tears into sending a bunch of poetry submissions as if they’re job applications, desperately hoping to add more notches to your byline, IMO, it’s time to reevaluate and do something fun for a change.

Don’t make yourself hate poetry because of weird social expectations made up by people in ivory towers.

I recommend both self publishing and submitting to cool lit mags when you find them. Be selective about which lit mags you actually like! You don’t have to feel compelled to submit to the shittiest looking lit mag ever that is still using the default WordPress theme from 2009 and a header that uses the Papyrus font just because you’re desperate to “get published.” Girl, I am certain that you can make a website by yourself that looks better, (sidenote: Girl, I am not even joking. I have resources on how to make your own website if you are interested. ) and publish your writing there.

This is coming from somebody who used to do everything the traditional way. Once I got a day job and I was no longer a full-time student, everything changed. I don’t have time for the “literary world” if it operates on an illusion of scarcity. Words are just words. I want a literary world where people share because it makes them happy and because it feels important to them.