Here’s how it used to work in the old days. If you wrote literary short stories, poetry, or literary criticism, you published those works in small literary journals. Some of these journals were famous, like the Paris Review, others not so famous, but the common bond was respect for artistic merit — however that might have been defined at any point on the often-trendy cultural continuum.
Last time I checked, most literary journals published only a few times a year, as most. Most paid little or nothing, or provided compensation in the form of one or more copies upon publication. Many if not most had stringent requirements about submissions, including refusing to consider multiple submissions. Many if not most took months to respond to authors, such that an author armed with a literary short story who followed all the rules might only be able to submit to two or three journals in a calendar year — with little or no assurance of eventual publication.
As the internet has grown, I do know that literary journals have added new wrinkles to protect their reputations, markets and cultural standing. One of these rules is that publication online in any form disqualifies a story or poem from consideration. It’s an understandable adaptation, but ignores the reality and importance of the internet in liberating the very voices that literary journals traditionally advocated for in the face of entertainment-driven commercialism.
All of which leads me to a whole spate of related questions….
- In the context of the internet age, the turn-around times for many of these journals — including many respected publications — are absurd. Are physical literary journals going to be able to hold the line on these practices, or will they be eroded and eventually consumed by online versions? Is the literary-journal tempo increasing? Should it?
- Can literary journals insist that works not appear online prior to publication? What constitutes ‘appearing online’? If someone workshops a story in a private online forum, does that exclude the work from consideration? If a writer posts the work on their own site for comments, but does not seek publication elsewhere, is that still a violation?
- How can these journals continue to publish when price pressures are as great for them as they are on any other publisher? Are they subsidized? Do they have benefactors? Deep pockets? Rich and crazy uncles and aunts?
- How is the academic world responding to the internet, and how is that affecting relationships with literary journals? It’s an open secret that if you want to be a big name in the academic world (as an artist or scholar or both), these journals can have a serious impact on your publish-or-perish career. Is that still true?
It’s interesting to me that I’ve run across no stories about the convergence (or collision) of literary journals and the internet. Granted, I’m not digging, and the entire industry is quite small, but it still seems odd.
On a related note, the literary journals I’ve seen lately all look as if they were self-published in one form or another. In this sense, literary journals seem to be cutting edge. Then again, many literary journals have been self-published by their owners/editors for decades, meaning this small niche of the publishing industry actually has more cred on the self-publishing front that any other niche I can think of.
Is there something to learn from the long experience of the literary journal practice? What do they know about the business of publishing that would be useful to others?
It seems inevitable to me that literary journals must transition to online publication. Are there any that have already made their mark? Which online journals are driving trends? Who is publishing the best and brightest online fiction?
— Mark Barrett
When I launched Spindle…
** pause // pour out a little… // sigh **
I decided to go online with it for all of the reasons you cite here. It was a labor of love that I wish I had time to dedicate to it, and I quickly realized my goal of responding to submissions within 3-5 weeks was unrealistic. At least as a one-man operation. That’s ultimately the trick, I think; taking a labor of love project to a collective level where it’s not dependent on one or two people’s time to focus on it.
As to your real question, two years ago when I was looking around at various literary journals’ online presences, I didn’t find anything that really impressed me. My hope is that Spindle 2.0 will fulfill my original vision and fit into what you’re looking for here.
First, thanks for pointing me back to Spindle. (I found it once months ago and promptly got lost in something else.) Good for you for putting in the effort — and I really like the header nav. 🙂
You make a good point about taking advantage of collaboration in order to compress time frames, and obviously a distributed environment like the internet is ideal for something like this. In that context I would think it would be more likely that people would enter this space simply because it’s easier to do. Then again, maybe there’s an aspect of noble passion to these efforts that discourages a broader consensus. If you’re going to do something for the love of it, why compromise?
That question of compromise has really been my challenge. I don’t delegate well, in general, and I wasn’t ready to share the load on Spindle so early in its existence. Catch-22.
I’ve been published in small magazines, online & off. They are definitely in crisis. Many academic budgets have been slashed for university supported magazines. Alternative outlets have sprung up by-passing small presses. Small literary magazines can still be viewed gatekeepers, but there will remain a readership for curated journals versus the free for all DIY going on now. Each will find their readerships, or not. So, a shake-up is underway. Lastly, many of these small magazines have a readership of 600 to the very largest of 6000. Average is 2000 readers. Can an individual find that or more given social media, a plan, and talent? It is all about choice.
You’re exactly right about the readership being incredibly small for most of these publications. (I had intended to mention that factor in the post.) It’s hard to call it even a cottage industry, and yet the influence (at least in the past) can’t be denied.
Thank you (and Guy, above) as well for corroborating what I felt more than knew: that the internet is unrelenting in its march. In the end I see it as a good thing — particularly if more people are empowered — but there is a bit of nostalgia. I never had the patience to even submit my short stories to the literary pubs (I knew early on that I wanted to try to make a living as a writer), but I always respected them for their (attempted) purity.