Multiple and Simultaneous Submissions

When you’re ready to shop your portfolio of poems, essays or short fiction to various literary markets, you’ll encounter editorial guidelines about “multiple and simultaneous submissions.” The gist is that:

  • Multiple submissions refers to the privilege of sending more than one piece for consideration within the same issue of a periodical.
  • Simultaneous submissions refers to the privilege of sending the same piece to different periodicals at the same time.

Many publications — especially large, well-established ones, and venues that pay contributors — don’t allow multiple or simultaneous submissions. Over the first volume of The 3288 Review, we’ve allowed both, but it’s likely that we’ll restrict multiple submissions and perhaps we’ll think harder about simultaneous submits, too.

Here’s why:

  • We’ve yet to have a multiple-submission author have any pieces accepted through our blinded review process.
  • Despite our fairly short turnaround times, we hear from at least two or three authors each issue that their piece was picked up elsewhere — despite us having taken the non-trivial time to stage and review the piece.

We encourage authors to approach publishers with all due vigor. However, the first time you connect with a new editor or publisher, you aren’t likely to fully understand your new colleague’s foibles (and vice versa). It’s probably best to submit one piece and wait for a response. Later, after you’ve established your relationship, you can pitch several things at once.

Note, too, that for paying markets, there’s a certain subset of writers — not huge, but large enough — that fires a full salvo of not-quite-ready work, hoping to make some money. These inexperienced authors spoil the system for others, primarily because some of them (a) haven’t yet developed the discipline to engage with beta readers before transmitting their work, or (b) they’re chasing license fees without regard to whether the publication is a good fit for their work. The fact that none of our simultaneous submitters have had a single piece successfully pass blinded peer review, suggests something significant. As does the fact that we’ve published several authors more than once — but those writers only pitched one piece at a time.

Simultaneous submissions present a different problem. Many publications don’t allow them, although many authors don’t seem care — probably rightly so, because most editorial-review processes take a long time to unfold and often result in silence, so waiting in a one-at-at-time queue would make many authors cool their heels a very long time before they brought the piece to market. That said, peppering a lot of publications simultaneously and going on a “first come, first served” approach to acceptance might be great for the author, but not so great for editors who had to review a work only to see it withdrawn.

Simultaneous submits is probably more of a sweet-spot question than anything. It’s unfortunate to receive a piece only to have it withdrawn three days later; how many markets did the author pitch? It’s also unfortunate to have a piece linger one-at-a-time through crowded slush piles. Good judgment suggests that you don’t send the same piece to too many places at the same time. How many is “too many?” ¯_(ツ)_/¯. A half-dozen at a time might be OK. A dozen might be OK. A hundred probably isn’t. Hard to say.

Probably the biggest point to this discussion distills to a basic principle of political science: The Tragedy of the Commons. This theory suggests that independent actors seeking to maximize their own benefit will inevitably deplete an essential shared resource; the idea relates well to the relationship between authors (independent actors) and publishers (the shared resource). In a perfect world, authors should be able to pitch their stories as they see fit. And many do. But when you maximize your authorial self-interest, you compete for a small and finite amount of editorial attention. In such a situation, everyone suffers, because editors and publishers lack the capacity to effectively manage the totality of work presented for publication. The best way to avoid misusing the “commons” of the publishing world is to:

  1. Always, always, always find a beta reader or two to review your work before you submit it. Always. There is never an excuse for submitting material that contains many spelling and grammar mistakes or doesn’t conform to standard narrative style.
  2. Submit once and wait for a response — even if you have the freedom to do otherwise.
  3. Carefully strategize which of your pieces are shopped to which markets, and when, and why. Mass-firing submissions and waiting for the first nibble means you’re doing yourself a favor, but you’re sucking the oxygen out of the editorial backrooms. Every minute spent editing a piece destined for withdrawal is a minute that couldn’t be spent looking at a different piece that might have been worth accepting … had the editor an extra minute to spare. Who knows? Maybe that unfortunate piece was yours.

The decision whether to engage in multiple and simultaneous submissions isn’t necessarily a black-and-white affair. Lots of shades in the middle. Lots of choices to be made.

But as the wise old knight said: “You must choose — but choose wisely.”

[Cross-posted to Caffeinated Press.]

Personal Slush Piles

Interesting thing about writing: The more I uncover fascinating contests and markets through my research for Caffeinated Press’s Community site, the more I realize that most writers enjoy a handy excuse for not participating.

“Oh, that sounds so cool, maybe I should write something for it,” people say. “If only I had the time!”

Yes. Maybe you should write something. Maybe you should find the time.

Or, maybe, you should have been writing all along, crafting various short stories, poems, essays and other creative works — and even, dare I say it, editing them in advance, so that when an opportunity arises, you’ve got something ready to submit. A writer should want to write for the joy of it, after all, and not just for the thrill of chasing the next deadline.

Editors bemoan the depth and the unevenness of their slush piles. Perhaps much of that problem would be ameliorated if authors built their own well-curated, well-edited slush piles.

I say this, of course, as a bit of a hypocrite. I keep finding cool stuff to submit to, and then I keep making notes to write something to send. Although, in my defense, I’ve been keeping up the late-night writing trend; just this past weekend, for example, I polished the first 50 pages of the manuscript and developed the detailed synopsis of Aiden’s Wager, then I submitted it to the James Jones First Novel Fellowship. With a top prize of $10k and two runners-up at $1k each, but only 600 or so annual submissions, I like those odds. And I’m on track, tonight, to submit to the 2016 Fourth Genre Steinberg Essay Prize. $1k award, plus publication.

(It also helps that I’m in the middle of an unpleasant cold, so I’ve been more quiet and focused thanks to the pseudoephedrine and also too tired and ill to trudge consistently to the CafPress office to work.)

Will I win the James Jones thing? Almost surely not. Will I win the Steinberg Essay Prize? Again, probably not. But such reality is beside the point. When it’s all over, I’ll be that much closer to finishing Aiden’s Wager, and I’ll have a ready-made creative nonfiction essay I can repurpose later. For the next opportunity. Heck, maybe I’ll even edit it again, or get a beta reader or two — just to be safe.

Slush piles: They’re not just for editors.