Who reads this stuff anyway?

Apparently, you do!

So its submission season in the Morrisey household, or as we call it over here… depressing taco thursday. Its more of a depression gordita actually, you have a form rejection wrapped around a nicely worded complimentary letdown wrapped in well nothing actually (which I like to think of as the Nacho cheese of rejection – entirely empty calories of plastic¬†‘cheese-like’ foodstuff). Seriously folks, I spent an hour the other night on a lit mag site I had submitted to refreshing the page every two minutes because they were updating the site with the initials of accepted authors… pathetic? Perhaps… but I still haven’t even received a rejection from them. Oh well, back to the salt mines… time to make the dog-nutz… Hi Ho its back to work I go.

One of the toughest parts of pursuing the writing gig is keeping the funnel full of material while you are trying to keep track of what has been sent out for submission and hoping a reply comes one way or another. Because of this challenge I try to avoid simultaneous submissions, but inevitably I find the ‘perfect’ venue for a particular piece two weeks after I have already submitted it somewhere else. The typical lead time for a response from a lit mag tends to be somewhere between three months and the average age of a solar system (I googled it and got mixed results, lets call it 10 Billion years)… so I will never get a rejection from one mag in time to submit a particular piece to the other perfect place I found for it – it’s Joyce’s Law.

For those of you who didn’t know, James Joyce had Hemingway beat the crap out of Murphy in Paris back in the 1920’s… James didn’t much care for the rough stuff himself. It wasn’t that he abhorred the violence, he just preferred to watch it from outside of arm’s reach. Anyway, since that time, anything that can go wrong in the world of the literati will go wrong¬†– Joyce’s Law!