Navigating the World of Poetry Publication: A Guide for New Poets

So, treat this as a unique look into a single editor’s mind on the world of poetry publication. It’s going to be different. Maybe useless. But it might shed some light on the only certain thing there is about poetry publication: that it’s dreadfully uncertain — and that that’s ok because so is poetry.

Tip 2: Submit Poetry in a Way that’s (Subtly) Conducive to Forming a (genuine) Relationship with the Editor.

I’ve published veterans, professors, artists, plumbers, a major journalist, a truck driver, a scientist, a few mechanics, a small zookeeper, and some authors, to name a few. Some are retirees who are finally doing what they love. Others have lost their spouses and are finding ways to cope. Some have lost their children or their homes. And when you learn that, their poetry comes alive.

When I first interacted with them, none of these submitters were trying to stand out. They weren’t banking off of their novelties or using their interesting lives as leverage. Instead, our conversations were subtle, organic, and prolonged, often starting with a “Contact Us” message which turned into a submission. At first, I’d receive nothing but their name and poetry. A month later they’d come back, and I’d hear a bit more about them. A month later a bit more. And soon enough, we were on a first name basis. I learned about their jobs and some of their life stories, and we even check up on one another from time to time, with no talk of poetry.

That’s powerful. And our relationship often frames their poetry in a richer light. That’s the more personal side of poetry publication that at least 80% of poets never experience–it’s a mutual effort.

I’ve even gotten to know some poets that I’ve serially rejected. One of them even wrote me a poem about submitting poetry to me — “Writing in the Void”. He rhymed Vita Brevis with “acceptance rarest”. It was horrible. And I rejected it. But I loved it. And we still talk today.

What I’m getting at is this: don’t force it. Sending a life story or directly inciting conversation in a submission email isn’t a good idea. A relationship is much more subtle than that, and a genuine one doesn’t need much prodding on. It comes naturally. When both sides are willing to receive, they each give a little. And that subtle harmony is reinforced as more submissions are sent in and the tiny personal discursive at the end of each email grows longer.

I’ve found that, at least for my publication, it’s useful to submit poetry in a way that’s conducive to a (very) slow, (very) steady, and (very) subtle relationship. Maybe start with the “Contact Us” portal and ask a real and substantive question that you actually want to be answered. Let whoever answers you know that you appreciate their time. Then head over to the submission portal and sign off with the same name, maybe thanking whoever answered your question once more.

And when you’re ready to submit again, use the same name and remark about how you were previously accepted or rejected. You’d be surprised at how much an editor remembers — let alone how appreciative they are when they meet respectful and professional submitters. With some time, it might just turn into something.

Tip 3: Put as Much Work into your Submission as you Put into your Poem

I can’t tell you how many promising poems I’ve rejected on the basis of a blatant disregard for the rules of submission. I’ve tried bold-facing them, numbering them, simplifying them, making them “required” input boxes — people still found a way to avoid filling them out. (And they were never excessive — we asked for a name, PDF, an optional bio, and a link.)

It seemed like these poets would compile one bare-bones submission email and send it out to as many publications as possible — which would have been more effective if they provided important details, like their names. Other people did this in a more sophisticated way that’s harder to detect, but there still tends to be a feeling that they just filled in my name after “Dear.”

Regardless, the reasoning that supports this kind of activity is misled:

Poetry publication isn’t merely a numbers game. Flooding magazines with a lot careless submission is not better than sending a few careful ones. Fish with all of the solo cups you want — you’ll never land a big catch. You’d be doing yourself a favor, instead, if you did your research, took your time, and equipped yourself for specific conditions of each spot. That way you’re going out to sea with everything that you need.

So, follow the guidelines. Cut no corners. Keep it brief. And with complete clarity respond to every point that the editor’s ask of you. This approach isn’t too simple. It isn’t too boring. And it doesn’t rob your email of your personality. It’s perfect. And it speaks volumes about your character and judgment.

Ideally, you want some personality to shine through. But the threshold of being excessive is very, very low. Much like poetry, subtly in your submissions is indicative of talent. And if you don’t think you can pull off a more experimental submission, it’s better to play it safe and err on the side of professionalism–at least that won’t detract from your work.

Of course, sometimes people make honest mistakes — spelling errors or incorrect attachments to name the minors ones. And that’s ok. I’ve never held it against a poet for sending in an incomplete submission so long as they try again and fix it, and if the problem is obvious enough that I can figure out what they meant, I just keep it to myself. All of the editors I’ve spoken with have had a similar stance.

All-in-all, you can do yourself a big favor if you treat submitting poetry like writing it. Attend to it’s every nuance. Straddle the thin line between revealing too much and too little. Say a lot with few words. Be clear. And care about it.

Tip 4: Don’t Trust Online Poetry Publication Gurus. And Don’t Trust Me

It’s easy to confuse charisma with substantive content. Sometimes impassioned bloggers can make it seem like they’ve found a fail-safe publication formula. Sometimes the otherworldly success they advertise is more intoxicating than true. Sometimes all that bait that they’ve strewn about their impeccably search-engine-optimized websites catches a fish. And sometimes, that fish is you.

– You might like: Publishing Poetry is like Arranging a Marriage – Make it a Happy one – 

We’ve all been there. These people are experts at their craft and know how to keep you reading or watching or buying or downloading. But if it sounds like armchair psychology, it usually is. And if it sounds like wild speculation, proceed with caution.

There aren’t any mind games that you can play with editors that will increase your chances of publication beyond sending in your best work exactly as they want it. Don’t memorize hexadecimal values for a unique shade of blue that allegedly makes people more accepting. It doesn’t. Don’t use novel fonts that are associated with prodigious works (like heavily ornate serif fonts that seem lifted from the Constitution). Don’t send in YouTube video submissions if no one asked for them. Long words are rarely impressive and can almost always be avoided, so don’t use those either. And don’t enlarged text by 0.5 pixels because someone said it’ll make your work “pop.”

None of it will help, but it will hurt. It turns out the simplest solution is the best. Be genuine, respectful, and professionally casual — and let your poetry speak for itself.

Of course, the value of certain tips will vary based on the publication you submit to. But what’s universally appreciated is adherence to guidelines and a clear understanding of what the publication wants. So read a bit of the magazine, if you can, or extract whatever information you can from the website. You don’t need to be too thorough, just don’t go in completely blind.

The most useful way to improve an already concise and professional submission is by making it clear that you understand the magazine’s theme and have only submitted work that you deem relevant to that theme. It’s one thing to follow the letters of the law, but that shouldn’t be at the expense of the spirit of the law.

If you have a comprehensive understanding of the magazine you’re submitting to, it won’t go unnoticed. Even if your poem is still rejected, charming the gatekeeper is never a bad thing. Especially if you plan on coming back.