Aaarrrghghg, this process of trying to get published is slower than glacial time. I swear there are some submissions so slow they deserve to be named as an epoch. The Doyouwantitornotean Eon, the Shootmenowocene.
As I paw through my list of submissions I see many have been out for 6 months, 8 months. One video submission will have been out for a year soon. I queried them 4 months ago and they asked for — this is a new one — a copy of the text. That was the last I heard from them.
How do we not LOSE OUR SHIT?
There are too many poets! one person cries. There are too many litmags! says another. You should just be content working on your writing, some jerk opines. I’m okay with six-month turnarounds, says no one, ever.
And yes, I know: “labor of love,” “all volunteers,” “volume of submissions,” etcetera.
I know I should keep just rolling them out there. I certainly know I should stop obsessively brooding at the list, counting and recounting how many submissions are out there and how long each of them have been lingering. But man, it’s hard to gumption up for new rounds of submission knowing everything just sits there like toads on a swamp edge on a sunny day.
Oh, wait — just got an email from one of my litmag submissionees.
Be careful what you wish for.