So here we are, Laura and I, preparing for a new round of submissions, laying the groundwork for Issue 4 and hoping we’ll receive work that we will love so much, we’ll want to publish it. Without you, literary artist that you are, Issue 4 would consist of cover art and some snazzy editorial comments from me. Because what makes Frazzled Lit isn’t us. It’s you guys. Our job is to curate your work and present it to the world in the best way possible. In a very real sense then, everyone who has or will submit to us is a part of Frazzled Lit, and an important part of our literary community.
It’s difficult to define an editorial standard when so much of what we do at Frazzled Lit - what the editors of any literary journal do - is a matter of personal taste. There are no acturial tables for style or voice or character, there are no scorecards for prose. We like what we like, and we publish those pieces which appeal to us, and to our broad readership, the most.
How then can you as a writer or a poet hit the right notes with us? I’ll attempt to answer that question in terms of short story submissions in this post, with a special look at the opening to a story from Issue 3. In follow-up posts, I’ll discuss our other submission categories.
The basics
There are a couple of simple things you can do to help your chances of publication in Frazzled Lit, and these apply to any journal, agent or publisher you will submit your work to.
Top of the list is to carefully read and then follow the Submission Guidelines.
No point sending us a 5k word story when it’s twice as long as we ask for, right? We are to some degree flexible, so if we ask for 2.5k words and you send us a great story that’s 2.6k words, we won’t quibble too much about it, but we’d still prefer if you’d stuck to the limit.
Next on the list is presentation.
A skilled and experienced writer will take time and care with their work, and will be deliberate in their presentation. They’ll choose a font like Times New Roman 12 pt, and they’ll use the line spacing we asked for. They will be at pains to ensure their work is free of typos, and will do all in their power to remove any barriers to publication.
We know when a writer has done this; it’s clear the moment we open their document. Having said that, we won’t penalise an artist for poor presentation of meritorious work. It’s just that it makes our job easier when it’s presented in a very readable way, and we will truly appreciate and thank you for making the effort.
Start strong
Coming now to the content of your piece; what do we look for? But that’s the wrong way to phrase it because we’re not actually looking for anything in particular. It’s not like we have a checklist to tick, and the pieces with the best scores get published.
We want what any reader wants, which is to be surprised, entertained, and excited by the work we’re reading.
A strong opening is essential, because if you grab us from the start, there’s a good chance you’ll hold our attention.
Let’s look at a great example from Issue 3, the opening to Amy’s Mom by Emily Rinkema.
After Amy’s mom drops dead, like literally drops right in her driveway, groceries spilled all around her, we sit in my basement and get high and plan what to do if ours do too. Meaning our moms. Meaning if they just drop dead.
This opening grabbed my attention on first read. I got a sense of a strong and authentic voice that gave me the impression of a young female character. There was action; dropping dead, getting high, planning. There was anxiety: what if our moms drop dead too? There was also a feeling of community (‘… we sit in my basement…’), and a hint of behavioral problems (‘…. and get high…’).
All this in three simple sentences that say it like it is, in the character’s own voice.
I was immediately drawn into her world, and wanted to learn more.
For more on voice, read Seán McNicholl’s excellent guest post, In Your Own Voice.
Is the prose grandiose and overblown? No, because this character wouldn’t speak in anything but simple terms, but that doesn’t mean that she is simple, and can’t grasp the emotional complexities of the situation. Quite the opposite is true of her, in fact.
The writer wasted not a single word in this opening. It is concise, tight and sets the scene perfectly, and I can honestly say that, in my opinion, it is one of the finest openings I have ever read, because the writer kept it real.
Get messy with it
Starting a new story can be easy or it can be challenging. Perhaps the opening comes to you in a flash, as so often happens, or maybe you have an inkling of a voice and a character but are unsure of where their story should begin.
My advice is to start imperfectly, and get messy with it.
Words on the page, that’s what matters at the beginning of the creative process, so write something, anything, to get in the flow, because true inspiration often comes in the doing, not in the thinking. By writing, you will discover your story, your character, the truth of the tale. Later, you can edit, and that’s where the real magic happens. Let the story take shape around you. Breathe life into your characters and stir them to action and emotion.
There’s no science to it, there’s no formula.
You take words and spin them into gold, and we love them.
It’s alchemy, plain and simple.
Can you dig it?
You know what I mean, right? You know it when you watch a great movie, read a great story, enjoy a great novel, hear a great song. Listen the opening to Hotel California by The Eagles, from their Farewell tour. When the guitar comes in, it hits you somewhere inside and you think, ‘Wow, this good!’, because you just dig it.
That’s what it’s like for us when we read a great piece of writing or a great poem.
We are drawn into your wonderful piece, and say to ourselves:
Wow, this is exactly what we’re looking for!
For more on what we look for in prose submissions, read this post: