Online Literary Magazines, We Need to Talk

It’s rough out here, I get it.

You’re not going to be pulling in ad revenue anytime soon. And server fees aren’t free … but they’re not that expensive. I make no money keeping my podcast online but with three supporters on Patreon I break even.

Obviously you have more overhead. Some kind of reading and sorting mechanism. At least you sort out the dross. Still, I’ve been doing this long enough to know, now, at a certain level unless you hold an incredibly high standard of publishing the differentiation in quality will be hard to pin down. Personally, I’m of the opinion that writing of truly transcendent quality is such a rare thing the word miracle would seem a fair description.

But in this we are not talking miracles. We’re talking, “that was pretty good” “I think I’ll check this out again if I remember” territory.

I like the idea of being included in a conglomeration with other writers, being included in a lit mag. I would, on occasion, like to send out a piece or two. Usually, when I’ve decided to start submitting a piece is when I get around to reading your magazines and I can imagine this is true for many other writers as well. We’re reading cause we finished something and are trying to look for a place to house it.

That, in itself, makes me a little depressed (the idea that there’s no longer any pure readers — if such a person reading lit mags ever existed) but I can’t be depressed because I’m part of the problem. I’m not coming back to you on my own time and I take full responsibility for failing to do as such … still, I know this isn’t all my fault. The quality largely isn’t there and I think I can guess why. (Other than the obvious difficulty.)

Writing well comes best and easiest from the place of internal incentive — but internal incentive is also the place it starts for any rank amateur or weekend journaler. That is; writers who have spent years trying to become better would like to be paid. Of course for those of us who realize there’s so little money to be made we submit to our poverty and accept pittance for our words or often nothing at all. I, personally, have come to terms with that (kinda).

What I haven’t come to terms with is Paying YOU to look at my work and maybe publish it.

This most recent time that I’ve shopped around for a piece I worked 5 months on, even sites which advertised they would read for free had a required “tip jar” of 4 dollars to submit anything.

Can we get into this?

I have zero proof, lit mags, that you will give me more readership than publishing on my own.

If I got a piece accepted by The New Yorker or The Atlantic I could expect more eyeballs. Totally different ball game. The Majors vs. my Beer League Softball. At 35 I have zero expectations for being called up.

I can’t see how I might find a more diverse audience on your average lit mag platform; And when I submit I don’t expect a huge audience. I’m as much submitting for the idea of the lit mag more than anything.

I have no proof anyone going to your site — even with its colorful artwork — is going to take any more interest in me than they do here when I publish myself. I don’t generate much interest and I know you don’t either. That’s part of the genius of literature — the way it hides its insights in irrelevance.

What all of this suggests, before we get into the money issue, is only the naive are submitting to your lit mags. Again, yes, I am including myself in that category.

To begin writing at all, with any notion of a career in it, one must have boundless, helpless naivety. I remember getting back from China at 24 with my first completed “book” thinking, “well it’s rough around the edges but certainly good enough to find an agent.” (It wasn’t.)

And I do not begrudge you (lit mag editors) taking a couple bucks here and there from young writers hoping to say that they were published. Hell, the real criminals are the ones running the contests. Setting up lotteries which gives us just enough mental encouragement to think a few months from now might contain a personal windfall.

…. Except it might be a little worse than the actual lottery, because you feel like you’re partially betting on yourself. Betting on yourself and losing … later you see stats on how literally thousands of people enter these contests and who’s reading a thousand stories? Certainly not you or me. Who could blame an editor for picking a story without spelling errors and going on vacation. Who’s gonna read the thing that seriously anyway?

Which brings me back to charging 4 bucks to read my piece.

At this point it feels like I’ve been manipulated my entire life. I know that’s not reality — the reality is much more complex and insofar as any manipulation happened — I did it to myself. It’s just this feeling which gives me pause when I have to pay to be read. It’s not about the money (actually this time it is about the money, I’m broke as hell) it’s questioning every life choice I’ve ever made.

Was this all a vanity project? This is what you forcing me to tip you makes me think. I balk.

And yeah, as much as I don’t need you, you don’t need me; but where is the burden of responsibility supposed to fall here? Don’t we need each other? It feels like a very unfair exchange.

I have to take the time to get better at writing on my own — which already includes a certain set of sacrifices. I have to find the idea, question myself, battle indifference and find a way to trust myself once I’ve pushed through the naive phase. I could go on but after all that; I still have to take on the burden of begging you to publish me? Hell, I’ll grovel, my pride is long gone — but do you see my point yet?

Isn’t the base end of your deal that you want to publish good stuff and be a refuge? Okay, should you make a salary for having to sort through the dross, sure. But doesn’t that mean I should make one from beating my head against a wall? You can’t charge me to read me and also not pay me.

You’ve put all the responsibility on the writers and, personally, if I have to take all the responsibility anyway I’d rather just publish when I please rather than wait around to hear whether my piece fits with your theme or if you’re even interested in it at all.

At this point you actually have to offer something to writers to bring good work back to your magazines. Right now you’re essentially running a grift where you take money from the hopelessly naive.