Good Rejection from Missouri Review

Jackson,

Thank you for allowing us to consider " . . . " for publication in The Missouri Review. The writing is stout and polished and has a strong sense of style, but, unfortunately, the story does not currently fit our needs. We appreciate your interest in our magazine and your commitment to quality writing.

We wish you the best of luck publishing your work and hope you continue to send us more selections in the future.

Sincerely,
The Editors

1st Story Accepted in 2012

Wow, look at this shit, it appears I may be on a roll, people. Two accepted short stories in two months! すごい,な?Whether this is part of a new trend or whether it's the last acceptance I'm gonna get for years, either way, I'm fucking ecstatic to get a piece accepted in Quarter After Eight. I've been sending them stories since 2006 + this is a small major victory for me. Also, considering how great the innovative writing is in QAE + how QAE has published well-known writers like David Shields, Steven Millhauser, John D'Agata,, I'm flattered to be a contributor of that journal. Anyway, here's the acceptance email:

Hi Jackson,


Thanks once again for your patience. Also, I'm glad to say that we
have room for "Kothar" in our next issue due out in February. It's a
piece we all enjoyed reading and are excited to feature in QAE.

Now we need you to provide an electronic signature to the attached
contract by typing in your name and send it back. Also, please attach
a .doc copy of the piece. Finally, we need a brief biographical
statement that you can include in the body of the email.

I'm glad this worked out.

Best,

Steve

Payment is a contributor's copy of the issue your in.

10 Reasons Why You Should Buy Your Books Locally

Whether we like it or not, Amazon.com has become the interface of the new commerce. And while there are a things that I think Amazon.com does extremely well, especially in terms of its broad marketplace of products, it's endless library of customer reviews that can be really helpful (predating Yelp by like a decade), especially when not sockpuppeted, at the same time, it's impossible for any company to excel in every department, which is a good segue I think to why you should buy your books locally for the holidays + forever after:

1. Every time you buys books locally, you help support small businesses (and small business are actually people's dreams made real), which means you're helping support your city, which means you're helping support a neighborhood in your city--those are already good enough reasons. For every semester at SC, I'd print out my long list of books for my graduate seminars + take the subway to Skylight Books in Los Feliz + order a shitload of books. And after I'd dropped like $500-$600 for books for my field exams recently, Meg, one of the savvy, charming bibliophiles working there, said to me: --Hey, thanks for paying for my job. And then it hit me how interconnected local businesses + individual needs are . . .

2. No matter how cheap the deals are on Amazon.com (et al.), saving a few dollars will never replace the material marketplace of culture + creativity inside physical bookstores. Bookstores are places where you can escape from your roommate who watches 15 hours of "Sex in the City," where you can look up shit in the Writer's Guide to Literary Journals, skim the next McSweeney's, shake your head at a dog-eared, mostly wrinkled copy of the New Yorker + sometimes "glance" at an already-open copy of Penthouse. Bookstores are safe spaces for intellectuals, artists, autodidacts, current event junkies + people-watchers. Bookstores are: 1/4 café, 1/4 library, 1/4 refuge + 1/4 transient hotel. If you're an aspiring writer, you need to see what people are buying on the new book shelf + what journals are publishing in your genre. Period (.).

3. Most of the time, the people working in indie bookstores are fucking passionate about books, passionate about reading + passionate about language, which is not only an amazing resource for you, but also, that kind of bibliophilia is infectious + exciting to be around.

4. Many indie bookstores are also showcases for both established + emerging literary fiction writers + poets. While the big chains can + do offer many of the same privileges (which is a great thing), small indie bookstores cater to great literary fiction. They tend to live + breathe it. On the other hand, at large chain bookstores, they are selling too many kinds of books to specialize in literary fiction/poetry: besides lots of great novels, there's also a lot of absolute shit, coloring books, cookbooks, badly ghost-written celebrity memoirs, romance novels with steroidal male bodies on the cover, CD's + DVD's, a million derivative vampire thrillers, James Patterson drivel, maps + atlases, already-clawed magazines, private journals with lockets, kindle knock-offs, nauseatingly cute animal calenders, even packets of Starbucks coffee, mugs + chocolate bars. And while I think it's great these stores exist to satisfy a larger demographic, not to mention, they routinely have little cafés too (which is rad), at the same time, only the indie bookstores fight the good fight each + every day, showcasing the best in literary writing on both the shelf + behind the mic. If indie bookstores perished in America, literary fiction/poetry would die. College campuses would then become the last protector of great literary art, further removing literary fiction from mainstream culture than it already is.

5. Small, local indie bookstores prove that writing still matters. It's easy as an emerging fiction writer to feel like your writing doesn't affect anyone anymore (except underpaid, overworked editors who reject our asses routinely), but walk into Powell's in PDX, for example, + you'll see right away that the stories we create, the stories we invent, the stories we live on, all have an impact, there's an infinite potentiality of language waiting to be discovered in the aisles, helping us remember that our own literary creativity still resonates with people on an important cultural level

6. Buying books locally is an investment in tangibility in the floating world. While personally I think it's an awesome fucking world we live in when you can download a kindle version of virtually any novel in the whole world + while I think eNovels are also ecologically responsible + also intellectually practical in terms of giving us the ability to carry our entire library with us, at the same time, there are many traditionalists (myself included) who will never get over our love affair with physical books, the intoxication of the smell of a new (old) novel, the way that words have an actual weight in your hand (or in your backpack or purse), the way that pages can be folded, touched, flipped back + forth (a soft splash of air hitting us between the eyes every time), the way paragraphs can be scarred with violent marginalia, even the sound of a book triumphantly plopped on a table after we've finished reading it helps us stay grounded to materiality. All of these things matter, especially in a world where once-concrete objects are now becoming more + more graphic, more iconic, more visual, less tangible--an entire world reduced to jpg.'s, word + pdf files, organized + contained within desktop folders + attachments. And while I think that readers should never have to choose between hard + digital copies, there's something to be said about the intimacy of a physical novel, the way it becomes the center of your life inside your satchel, the way it captures your attention as you pass your bookcase in the hallway years later + suddenly remember the 2-7 days you loved no one else.

7. Indie bookstores foster a sense of community. While there are plenty of valid, seasonal reasons to order books online from time to time (e.g. avoiding holiday crowds or long lines at the post office where you'll drop a shitload of money sending books priority mail or waiting a small eternity for the media rate to do its fucking job), I personally think these situations should be exceptional. It's great we can do so much shit online, but the more we spend behind our computers, the less connected we are with people in the physical world, the less we know how to be human socially (+ writers are intrinsically social artists on one important level since writing involves people + it involves readers). And while large megastores chains are great for anonymity + sheer breadth of selection, smaller indie bookstores are crucial in giving all of us misfits a place to meet up together + exist. Small local bookstores, at their best, becomes subcultures for an art form that doesn't know how to die.

8. Indie bookstores don't bully the publishing market the way the big chains do, they support it. Barnes & Noble, until recently, Borders, didn't just sell books, they actually controlled a large chunk of the marketplace. Editors, for example, use(d) the various sales rankings of the big chains (among other things) in order to not only gauge current projects, but to examine future book projects (e.g. "well, this author's last novel never made it to the superstore rankings list . . ."). Publishing houses actively swoon/charm/coddle the big chains because they know that if they can get them to buy a ton of their books, the big chains will actively try selling the books they've invested in, which means those books become more visible because they're marketed, which often means more people buy those books because they're more visible, which makes those books profitable (helping both the large chain + the publishing house), which makes that author a good future investment. And when the big chains aren't interested in a new novel, that novelist's career becomes endangered with poor sales. But not so with indie bookstores who don't give a shit about Nielson Bookscan stats, NYT bestseller rankings, or other dubious metrics of so-called literary talent where great art poses as sales figures (as if great writing could ever be quantified). Small, locally-owned, indie bookstores only care about great writing, plain + simple. And the reality is that aspiring writers need to embrace locally owned, indie bookstores because they are the greatest allies of literary fiction in this whole world.

9. Local, indie bookstores can be meccas for beautiful, articulate, eccentric, stylish, smart, critical-thinking post-hipster hipsters who make reading sexy. 'Nuff said.

10. Your local bookstore is a sanctuary in our bustling word. Inside the aisles, time stops. Like a Borgesian paradise, bookstores are wrinkles of time-travel, passing moments of linguistic rapture + personal evolution. Your local bookstore is the place where you can be anything you want, a babel of narrative voices chanting from the pages, where the din of impatient drivers outside is muted by the soft, slow, sensuality of words circling around you, rushing to meet your eyes with every open book + smother you in an orgy of details.

The Ugly Side of Being a Fiction Writer (My Guidelines for Aspiring Fiction Writers)

Recently it's come to my attention through some spirited exchanges on Literary Rejections on Display, as it does at least 100 times every year, how ugly it can get trying to make it as a novelist. Now, I don't claim to have all the answers. If anything, I probably have too many questions. And though I've made some definite progress in my writing career (for which I'm always grateful for), for the most part, to quote Chris Parris-Lamb, the best part of my writing career is definitely ahead of me. All of this makes me want to lay out my own guidelines as an emerging fiction writer. These won't be your guidelines + they won't be your mother's either, unless she writes literary fiction like a motherfucker, but they are my guidelines + they help me remember what's really important in this industry. Maybe, just maybe, they'll help someone out there:

1. Don't hate on other writers. You have every right to crit the shit out of their technique or dislike their novel, or disagree with the premise of one of their short stories or remain emotionally unaffected by the characterization of their last book--published or not--but don't hate on the author. You don't fucking know the author at all, so stop pretending you do. You have no idea how much time she spends working on her writing, how much time he spends editing + revising + changing + pruning + re-revising + editing + revising his shit all over again, how dedicated she is trying to publish her novel + make her career into something besides a delusion of grandeur. For some reason, writers, especially fiction writers can be the most judgmental motherfuckers in the whole world. Put that shit in your novel + spare other writers your own couch psychoanalysis because I promise you, you're wrong 99% of the time when you think you know the author. Also, if you think an aspiring writer is whiny, try submitting 300 manuscripts in three years + then tell me how you're feeling about the industry. The vast majority of the time, writers judge other writers really harshly who are working just as hard as they are + often, even harder, to get to where they are. But all of our hard work is invisible until we get something published, sad as that is.

2. Hate the industry, not the people working in it: While I've never met an editor I didn't totally respect/admire, I've read a lot of industry stories that make me shit on myself. It's time to take a reality pill: The industry, despite itself, publishes fantastic writing (e.g. Jeffrey Eugenides, Jennifer Egan, Don Delillo, Junot Diaz, Haruki Murakami, Susan Choi, Aimee Bender, TC Boyle, Joan Didion, Chuck Palahniuk, Susan Steinberg, Carole Maso, Lydia Davis, Michael Chabon, Phillip Roth, Salman Rushdie, Percival Everrett, Jhumpa Lahiri, Ha Jin, Susan Choi, Julie Ostuka, Nami Mun, to name just a few). But it also publishes a lot of absolute crap: Celebrity memoirs, talented movie stars that publish shitty short story collection just because they're famous (James Franco, I'm talking to you, punk), reality TV stars like Kim Kardashian, Snookie, Amanda Knox. True, commercial shit pays for literary fiction, that's the rub. But it's precisely because publishing houses publish so much crap that literary fiction has no chance of succeeding, making it a self-fulfilling prophecy. It's about accessibility: People can only buy what you put out there + if you don't put enough quality literary fiction, people don't buy it + then then the genre stagnates, slowly dying, continuing the cycle.

And while the above authors don't write workshoppy fiction, a lot of MFA grads who do get contracts do, publishing stories that agents have told me are totally derivative + safe + uninspiring + extremely polished bullshit that no one cares about. If they're lucky, they're one + out. But people need fiction that really matters. The above parenthetical writers do that, but how many other fiction writers never get through to us? Why was Confederation of Dunces not published until after John Kennedy Toole committed suicide? Why is it that we can read Jack London's Martin Eden + it still rings true about the insane cliff of rejection we face that arbitrarily changes even when our writing doesn't? I think about a story Aimee (Bender) told me once how once she had an agent, journals that had rejected her short stories suddenly started accepting the exact same stories, which really pissed her off in the beginning . . . who in his right mind would try + defend that? The system is fucked, but the people working in it are the true champions of the industry. Contradiction? Yup.

3. Don't listen to anyone who says you should fuck all the rules of follow all of them. Personally, I follow 97% of the industry rules, choosing to selectively fight my own battles the other 3% of the time. But some people treat the publishing industry as if it's some sacred child prophet--don't. It's not. It can be improved. It deserves to be critiqued. There are plenty of flaws in the system. But there are also plenty of things that are right about it too, like the authors mentioned above, like publishing houses taking a risk + publishing great art, something that's smart + challenging + richly creative like Infinite Jest + Underworld + Gravity's Rainbow + Ulysses + Hardboiled Wonderland + The End of the World + Ava + A Night at the Movies + Patchwork Girl + so many other great works of art out there, there are plenty of things working in publishing right now, like underpaid, literature-loving editors who are working nights + weekends because they love fiction more than their spouses. In fact, don't listen to anyone else's rules on writing fiction or submitting or craft maxims or writer ego or writer humility, not even mine. Write your own fucking rules + figure out which ones work for you.

4. Don't apologize about your self-confidence. To be honest, you'll fucking need it to make it in this industry. Otherwise, you'll eventually give up after you realize that some authors are publishing stories that are as good, if not worse, than your own stories, which will (should) piss you off. Mary Yukari Waters once told me that your confidence should be quiet confidence. She's probably right. Either way, you'll be criticized for believing in your own ability, you'll be criticized for believing in your own art, for believing that with enough hard work, time + serendipity, you can be the next Hemingway or Salinger or Junot Diaz or Jennifer Egan, for believing that your shit is actually comparable to other authors who've already made it to The Show. But listen, don't pay attention to the haters or the critics. Art isn't modest, it doesn't ask for permission + frankly, often it's not even welcome in the gallery. You just write your ass off + try to meet the right people who love your art + even better, happen to be powerful in the industry too.

Here's the other crazy thing: When you start working with well-known novelists, they'll be the first ones to tell you you've got the right stuff, don't give up, you've got it, keep pushing it, keep writing, you're really talented, you're gonna make it someday if you don't give up, you're already a novelist. They'll actually affirm what you tell yourself on the rough days (which can be every day). And all the things your haters + critics told you you aren't + shouldn't be, all the things they criticize about you, your mentors will, in their own way, affirm that you are + you should be, as long as you have discipline, talent + dedication, as long as you never give up + fight for your outrageous dream. Of course, your critics will tell you you're arrogant + ungrateful, but your mentors, your inner self, the budding artist within, all of them will know that you're not arrogant (that implies you think you're better than other people, a thought you've never had), you're just confident in your own ability, + also hard-working + insatiable + ambitious + creative enough to never be complacent with what you've got, never settling for what the industry gives you, but always creating new momentum for yourself in each possible lifetime. That's how you slowly make your own career, by never settling + always thanking those who have helped you--two things I've always done my entire writing career, two things I'll never stop doing.

Either way, you have to believe in your art, otherwise you'll get your heart broken + you'll give up or you'll burn up with envy + despair, + then a 1,000 other aspiring fiction writers will rush to fill your empty space you worked so hard to carve out for yourself. The truth is, people will always call you arrogant as long as you think your writing deserves to be read, but as long as you're still writing + publishing, who fucking cares what they think about you? Really, the critics/haters are making you strong for the next phase of your career, so you should thank them.

Good Rejection from Milkweed Editions

I know this is a form rejection (I know I know I know I know), but compared to the last rejection I got from Milkweed, this one feels so much more supportive + appreciative, that I decided to post it anyway, just because it made me feel kinda good, even though this is the second book of mine they've rejected. Anyway, here it is:

Dear Jackson Bliss,

Thank you for letting us consider " . . . " which we’ve read with much interest. I’m afraid, though, it isn't quite right for Milkweed Editions.

Please understand that we assemble our small list from the enormous number of manuscripts we receive each year, which means that we must make difficult decisions about manuscripts such as yours. Often these decisions have less to do with the quality of your work, and more to do with the incredibly competitive climate surrounding manuscript review. Please know that we’ve appreciated the opportunity to spend time with " . . . " and your patience in awaiting a reply.

We wish you all the best in your continued literary endeavors, and thank you for thinking of Milkweed Editions.

Sincerely,
Ben Barnhart
Milkweed Editions

2011-12-07 16:52:10 (GMT -6:00)

My Advice to Another Aspiring Fiction Writer on Submitting to Literary Journals

Darren Manley, a writer friend of mine, asked me for advice on submitting to literary journals since I've been killing trees for years now. By the time I'd finished, I thought my response might possibly be helpful to other aspiring writers who are braving the odds. Obviously, if you have a fucking agent, then you have different rules. And, I'd like to point out that my publication history is lean at best. But since I have had a few good publications to my name, I thought this might be helpful for someone out there looking for a few pointers on submitting to literary journals. Here it is:

yo darren,

what's going on, man? great hearing from you. you know, my take on submitting to journals is deeply subjective + may only be true for me. but i have a series of conflicting hierarchies in terms of what i think is the most important when submitting to literary journals: first off, whenever possible, send your stuff to journals where editors actually read it. it may take longer, but if an actual editor will be reading your stories, i actually think you have a better chance of getting published because fiction readers tend to be bottom feeders in an aquarium, they tend to be passionate, opinionated + idealistic but also insecure, self-righteous, impatient and unpublished, which is a fucking terrible skill set for reading unsolicited manuscripts, especially when they're MFA students because usually, they're working on their own shit, worrying about workshop, trying to balance their lives + generally, reading for the literary journals isn't their job. sometimes, readers are a 100 times more obnoxious than the editors themselves. the problem is trying to figure out which journals have a front line of readers + which do not. basically: it's unavoidable, since almost every university-affiliated journals uses its MFA foot soldiers to screen incoming manuscripts, but i actually think that journals that exist outside of academia or that let editors take a crack are better, though their acceptance percentages are even smaller: journals like Slice, Crab Orchard Review, ZYZZYVA, N+1, for example, the editors read everything.

also, look at Santa Monica Review, which has a slant towards West Coast writers. Mcsweeney's is always worth a try + i've gotten good feedback from editors many times, which makes me feel like they're generally looking for material from the slush pile, which isn't always the case with journals like the Paris Review, New Yorker, et al.. i'd normally suggest staying away from TLR, Fence + the hudson review, because they take over a year to send you form rejections, at least in my experience. also, journals like glimmertrain are just one big contest. it's kinda fucked up actually. and in terms of journals where students DO police journals, i'd say, look at journals that have PhD students in CW reading because those readers are generally more mature, better published, chill + much more serious than MFA students, though there are many exceptions. for example, the missouri review is a great journal, so is quarterly west + SE Review + witness + 3rd Coast (all read by PhD students in CW).

one other thing, always send your mss. to the best journals first + then come back to reality with less ambitious journals, otherwise you'll wonder after a piece is accepted at a mid-tier journal if an better journal would have accepted it. stranger things have happened. don't worry about simultaneous submissions either because journals are so bad at getting back to you that by that time you've already received a rejection from another journal. you can always email a journal + tell them to remove your mss. from the docket + they will. it's less work for them. also, there are a couple great online journals too that you should consider. one is faultbetter, which usually publishes great shit consistently. narrative is also slick, but they charge $25 per submission, which is total bullshit. wait for their open submission month before submitting.

another thing, journals always receive less nonfiction than fiction, so consider sending the former. always google the editor's name whenever possible so you can include it in your cover letter (+ always write a CV--cover letter, not curriculum vitae). if you have any pub.'s, list them in your CV. if not, don't worry about it. don't shy away from online submissions either because many of the best journals now accept (or only accept) online submissions. by the way, most online submissions managers don't even show readers your cover letter unless they specifically click to see it, so don't worry about it (but still write one). this is obvious, but: make sure the first page is virtually flawless. i didn't think about this for years but that simple difference in revision can keep you in consideration after many other manuscripts get rejected.

lastly, expect to get rejected all the fucking time, often for no goddamn reason, or for the most random, subjective, personal, nit-picking, bullshit, platitudinous, captious, dumbass reasons imaginable, like, because the reader hates 3rd person limited, or because he can't stand coming-of-age narratives, or because she
only likes coming-of-age narratives, or because they hate your politics, or your character's name or they believe stories shouldn't have adverbs, or because they've been brainwashed into believing that the only acceptable dialogue tags are he said/she said or because like me + you, they have way too many opinions on good writing, even though they haven't published shit, which they also resent. also consider that in a way, you are the readers's competition, so naturally, they're harsher on you. even the best readers aren't perfect, they have their own stylistic + technical biases. often they can't identify a great story unless it's so amazing it knocks them unconscious, but even that can be a problem because they'll resent you for bruising their pretty English major faces. when you have a sec., go to an indie bookstore, buy a copy of a few literary journals + skim through the rest + get a feel for the journal's aesthetic, it's layout, its politics + always read parallel pieces to see how/if your piece fits.

okay, i hope that helps. good luck man, fighting the good fight!

peace, blessings,

-j1b

Good Rejection from McSweeney's

Hi Jackson Bliss --

Thanks for letting us read " . . . " We rely on stories like yours, since a good portion of what we publish comes to us unsolicited. Unfortunately, we can't find a place for this piece in our next few issues--but we liked it, so we hope you’ll continue submitting. If you do, please include the word “ . . . ” at the front of your subject line—that way, we’ll be sure to see it. We're always looking, so send us something anytime.

Thanks again,

C****** H****

1st Story Accepted in 2011

¡Yo, por fin! The drought is finally over. It's been a year and a half (actually, nineteen months) since my last story was accepted + I admit, there were many days where it looked really bleak, but fortunately for me, that drought is now officially OVER. Just a few minutes ago, I got an email from Hal Jaffe at Fiction International telling me that my conceptual story, "When Silence Is a Old Warehouse and Love is a Pocketful of Rocks" was accepted. The truth: I'm fucking ecstatic! FI has published some fucking dope literary luminaries such as William Burroughs, Robert Coover, Joyce Carol Oates, Allen Ginsberg, J.M. Coetzee + Bessie Head, just to name a few. Anyway, here is the acceptance letter:

Hello Mr Bliss,

Sorry it's taken a while to get back to you.

I like your text, "When Silence Is a Old Warehouse and Love is a Pocketful of Rocks" and would be pleased to publish it in FI's Ways of Seeing issue.

Please send an electronic version (word.doc) to my assistant M****** M***** and cc me.

Include a brief contributor's note and your home address.

Many thanks,

Hal Jaffe, editor

Good Rejection from the Indiana Review

Dear Jackson Bliss:

Thank you for sending these three shorts to Indiana Review. We really enjoyed them, particularly "Cabrón"—the voice is well honed and the story is compelling—but ultimately found them not right for IR at this time. Please take this short email as a note of encouragement to continue sending us work.

Best wishes,

R***** L***
Fiction Editor
Indiana Review

Even though I always appreciate editors taking the time to send me a good a response, I always wonder: If a story had such a well-honed voice + was so compelling, why don't you want the story? I mean, personally, if I thought a story had a well-honed voice + was compelling + I really enjoyed it, why the hell wouldn't I want to publish it? Did I lose out to the group vote? Did the IR receive other manuscripts where the voice was better honed and more compelling? Was it just a question of personal taste + style? Who the fuck really knows, man. I'm flattered, but I'm also pissed off.

Good Rejection from Fairy Tale Review #2

Ugh, another good rejection. And while very gracious + kind, I think I may be done submitting stories to the Fairytale Review. I like the journal a lot (+ several of my friends have published stories in TFR), but so few of my own stories really fit the journal's aesthetic + I think I've run out of workable manuscripts. Too bad. Anyway, here's the rejection:

Hi Jackson,

I'm so sorry that I've taken so long to respond--unforgivable, truly.
I want--terribly badly, in fact--to craft a perfectly balanced issue
that everyone will love, but my response time has suffered from this
obsessive consideration, and I am finally having to make the hard
choices. I've read your fine story several times now.

Only by way of narrowing since there were sososososo many great
submissions, I chose a very specific aspect of my already very
specific theme to follow, otherwise I wouldn't have known how to
possibly choose just a few. I'm heartbroken to say that these didn't
turn out to be a perfect fit amidst the other pieces I chose. But this
issue will be just one (hopefully beautiful) specific arrangement made
from me selecting key symbolic threads (within my theme of lost
children, no less!) that we received within the submissions--that is
to say, please submit again!! I do hope you enjoy the issue, and that
you'll give us another chance. Please let me know when this story
finds a home elsewhere as well, so that I may celebrate with you and
enjoy it once more.

With admiration,

Alissa

Alissa Nutting
Guest Editor, The Grey Issue
Fairy Tale Review

Good Rejection from Ploughshares

Normally I don't give a shit about form rejections, even when readers/editors press the good rejection button. But since it's Ploughshares, that kinda makes it more meaningful. And even though everyone knows you have to be a creative writing faculty member to publish your shit in that journal, still, for a few seconds, it almost felt good to read this:

Dear Jackson Bliss:

Thanks very much for submitting your work to Ploughshares. Although we regret that your manuscript does not fit our current editorial needs, we enjoyed it and hope you'll consider us again.

Sincerely,

The Editors of Ploughshares

2011-10-02 21:06:08 (GMT -4:00)

I'm a Lucky Man to Work with Aimee Bender

Knowing that people drop thousands of dollars to attend the Tin House Writer's Conference in beautiful PDX in the summer + that a large Phish-like following of Aimee Bender fans follow her wherever she goes, especially when she hits Skylight books to strut her stuff in the most charming, self-effacing way an author can strut her stuff, I've realized three weeks into this fall semester that I'm one lucky motherfucker. Think about it: I get to send Aimee twenty pages from The Ninjas of My Greater Self every week + chat about it with her, while learning ways to improve chapters, sustain conflict, develop character chemistry + stoke tension, things I could always use more help with. Anyway, even though I have to read like a million novels in the next three months, teach + pound out the remaining five chapters of my novel, I have to say that I feel so goddamn fortunate to work with such a good critic, reader, fabulist, stylist, writer + editor as Aimee Bender. She's the real dope, not to mention a friend of mine too.

I've Reached the 400-Page Mark with My Second Novel, The Ninjas of My Greater Self!

It's interesting: Originally, I felt like I wasn't as efficient as I wanted to be this summer. But after talking to friends + other classmates in my cohort + in my program at SC, I'm realizing that I actually had a really productive summer after all, even though it didn't feel like it.

The three basic things I did this summer were:

1. Spend 9 days in China

2. Knock Off 25 books from my three reading lists for field exams

3. Double the size of my novel, writing exactly 200 pages in The Ninjas of My Greater Self. When I'd finished up last semester, I was at page 200 + now I'm at page 400. Even better, based on my flexible outline, I only have 5 and 1/2 chapters left before I'm done with a definitive draft, which is fucking crazy considering I wasn't planning getting there until sometime next summer. Of course, anyone who knows my work ethic with my writing, knows that I could easily spend another six months just revising my second novel, over + over + over + over + over again, both local + global revisions. But that doesn't fucking matter, I'll be revising my novel while being able to say I've finished writing it (even though technically, revision is a type of writing).

Now that I'm teaching again + football season is about to bloom from its summer germination, I'm worried I won't have as much time as I'd like to, to read + write + revise. But still, 5 and 1/2 chapters, that's like 6 weeks, 8 at the most until I'm done, unless my flow gets cockblocked by grading papers or some other shit. Suddenly, I went from feeling like the marathon had just begun to being able to see the finish line. And I'm telling you, this novel is going to fucking be huge, man. It's going to launch my career, just you watch.

(Yet Another) Good Rejection from Slice Magazine

Dear Jackson Bliss:

Thank you for sending us " . . . "

Unfortunately this particular piece was not a right fit for Slice Magazine, but we were very impressed by your writing. We hope that you will feel encouraged by this short note and send us something else during our next reading period.

We look forward to reading more.

Sincerely,

The Editors of Slice Magazine

2011-08-15 03:53:55 (GMT +1:00)

Good Rejection + Open Door to Read More Material from Nat Sobel

There's good news + there's bad news. Here's the bad news (though it comes with a decent rejection):

Dear Jackson Bliss,

Thank you for sending us the first 50 pages of . . . , which Nat Sobel asked me to read. I have discussed your work with Nat prior to sending my response. I think that this is an innovative approach to a novel, and I enjoyed the setting you have chosen. However, I’m sorry to report that I have too many concerns to request the balance of the manuscript . . . I admire the energy and style of your prose, but at the same time there is a self-conscious quality that prevented me from being completely drawn into these pages.

Please know that my reading is a subjective one, and others may feel differently. Nat and I both think that you are a talented writer, and we hope that you are able to find a publisher through your current literary agent. While we don’t feel that BLANK is the right novel in which to launch your writing career, should things not work out with The Irene Goodman Literary Agency, we’d be happy to consider more of your work in the future.

Best of luck,

A*** W*****

And here's the good news: After I clarified to A*** W***** that that the Irene Goodman Literary Agency isn't, in fact, representing me at all (they'd actually sent me a rejection letter months ago that mysteriously never showed up in my inbox or spam folder, so I had to write them + ask them what's up--lame), then I asked her if I could send her a partial of what I'm working on now, The Ninjas of My Greater Self + she said hell yes. Okay, actually, she just said yes. But as many of you know, Ninjas is the best thing I've written yet. I'm 320 pages into this motherfucker + I'm telling you, it fucking rocks the joint. I have no doubt that I'll publish BLANK eventually--frankly, despite its various + sundry flaws, it's still a breathtaking novel that's ambitious, innovative, smart, compassionate, multicultural + kinetic. It deserves to--and will someday--be published in an excellent indie press that rewards ambition, vision + heterodoxy. But Ninjas is going to be the novel that helps me launch my career from an emerging unknown novelist to an up-and-coming novelist with national implications. That may sound arrogant, but it's not, man. It's just what's going to happen + I'm gonna work my ass off to make sure it does. Stay tuned. In a month, I'll have a better idea of what's going down.

(Almost) Good Rejection from Crazyhorse

Dear Jackson Bliss,

Thank you for sending your manuscript " . . . " number 30679, to us here at Crazyhorse via the online submission manager.

We are sorry this particular manuscript was not selected for publication in Crazyhorse. We hope you will send us another soon, though. We could not publish Crazyhorse without the fine writing submitted to us. While we regret that the large number of submissions we receive makes it difficult for the editors to respond personally, we want to emphasize that an editor personally read your manuscript. Devoted reading is part of the Crazyhorse editorial mission; it is also our own personal one.

Thank you for supporting the journal with your reading, writing, and subscribing,
The Editors