Jan 21 2007

New destination for your literary submissions: Hot Metal Bridge

Taking a break from watching the New Orleans Saints fumble the football…

Carolyn writes,

Consider this a quiet announcement of Hot Metal Bridge, the new literary magazine from the University of Pittsburgh MFA students in creative writing. Uh, yeah, that would include me. You can find me on the masthead if you squint.

But don’t go bothering with the masthead. Please check out our freshly-minted call for entries. We’re looking for new fiction and creative nonfiction and poetry. We’re not stuffy. But we are really excited to read your stuff.

Curious? Hot Metal Bridge is an actual bridge here in Pittsburgh that used to carry molten steel across the Monongahela River (that may be the coolest combination of words of I’ve typed — I would have called it “molten steel monongahela” if I could).

Check out the call for entries at Hot Metal Bridge.

Best of luck to the editors. Starting a literary publication, moreso when it’s under the auspices of an MFA program, can be a big pain in the butt—you want to be editing stories and poems, but you spend 90% of your time beating the bushes for your first quality submissions. And with high turnover in staff due to graduation and other new commitments, continuity can be hard to come by.

But it can be done. Emerson College’s Redivider has been strong for a few years now. Its quality and professionalism has been improving with every issue. No reason Hot Metal Bridge can’t do the same.


Sep 17 2006

How to rank literary magazines

Paris Review 178Author Mohsin Hamid has written an extraordinary story, “Focus on the Fundamentals,” that leads off the fall issue of the Paris Review. The story’s broad scope and intimate voice—and its tackling of themes related to immigration, assimilation, and 9/11—not only got me to add Hamid’s upcoming novel The Reluctant Fundamentalist to my wishlist but also convinced me, after some time of resisting, to consider the Paris Review the best literary magazine around.

Others would make the same case, certainly. It’s like saying the New Yorker publishes good profiles or that bears crap in the woods. I had wanted to avoid, though, opening the door to pharisaism or self-serving praise of insiders to the detriment of new or different talent.

But now that I’ve been doing some fiction editing, I’ve started to take measurable editorial success more seriously. But then, what in the very small, very squishy literary field is measurable? To what should an editor or a literary magazine staff in general aspire, particularly in considering the health of the field as a whole?

Here are the measurable attributes, then, as I’ve come to see them. Note that they exclude traditional but misleading descriptors of magazine success, such as circulation or geographic base:

  • Age (<5/>5/>15): The years a publication has been publishing regularly.
  • Independence (no/partial/full): Is the publication independent? What percentage of its operating costs are paid directly by subscribers? By advertisers? By donors? By how many different donors? By a single patron, such as the university on whose campus the publication operates? This is the hardest to measure but can be done with some research skills.
  • Compensation (yes/no): does the publication pay its authors and staff? Find out by reading submission guidelines and analyzing the masthead. Do staff members work elsewhere (almost always yes).
  • Timeliness (yes/no): The flexibility or anticipatory talents of a publication’s editors, including the ability to solicit work appropriate to a particular event, anniversary, etc. Does each issue feature something related to the season or month in which it was published?
  • Nurturing (yes/partial/no): The prioritizing and active promotion of the literary field through readings, festivals, workshops, scholarships, and outreach.

In finding measurable attributes, I’ve identified four levels of literary magazine success that can be fairly evenly applied across geography, genre, and even size. They should be useful to readers, writers, editors, and donors alike when deciding whom to support or evaluating the growing or waning influence of a publication.

The four levels, from least to most successful:

  1. Vanity
  2. Immature
  3. Established
  4. Institution

1. Vanity

A vanity publication may feature two kinds of vanity—and often features both: an editor who is the publication and/or, more commonly, a mission that in effect reads, “We started this magazine because we thought everything else sucked.”

  • Age: <5 years old.
  • Independence: No. Has 1-5 sponsors, who are often also editors, but no subscribers.
  • Compensation: No. Does not compensate its writers.
  • Timeliness: No. Irregular publishing schedule makes timeliness difficult.
  • Nurturing: No. Does not have the ability to nurture their mission or field outside of their publication.

2. Immature

Immature publications are not necessarily bad publications. They print the bulk of literary writing, if not by totally circulation then by manuscript pages. They are college student literary magazines, most online-only magazines, a large number of niche publications, and even a handful of magazines published by well-respected personalities. A Public Space 2A respected example would be the new magazine A Public Space. While edited by a former Paris Review editor and featuring very high-end writing, it still struggles with the business side of magazine publishing, such as when it ran into subscriber fulfillment problems with its second issue. In the immature category would also be a publication like N+1, which publishes excellent political and creative writing from established authors but which recently—and kudos to them for being able to laugh at themselves—lost $3,000 cash to a thief at a fundraiser.

  • Age: <5 years old or still/regularly have fulfillment problems.
  • Independence: No. Still depend greatly on single-copy sales, rather than subscriber sales. May have a few benefactors.
  • Compensation: No. Do not compensate their writers but may hold fee-funded contests. Are volunteer run.
  • Timeliness: No. Are usually inflexible, but better run publications can plan ahead well and solicit appropriate pieces.
  • Nurturing: No. Consider it an important part of their mission to participate in literary field events but do not yet have the resources (especially time) to manage something themselves.

3. Established

McSweeneysEstablished publications, such as Tin House, the Missouri Review, the Gettysburg Review, Conjunctions, and McSweeney’s, are where the average reader is most likely to find new, good writing; where the average writer is to find the most competition; and where the average editor and donor are to find the most gratification.

  • Age: >5 years old.
  • Independence: Partial. Large subscriber base, often a board of trustees, staff member dedicated to fundraising. Breakeven budgets and university sponsorship is common; both make for little peace of mind.
  • Compensation: Yes. Compensates writers but may still be all-volunteer run.
  • Timeliness: Yes. Tradition of regular publishing cycles allows for advance planning. Strong, long-term relationships with individual writers allows for timely solicitation of needed pieces.
  • Nurturing: Partial. Can and does hold readings and release parties in home city and region. Staff runs workshops at parent institutions, with the editor-in-chief often holding a full-time faculty position. No money, however, for festivals or scholarships, unless, in the latter case, a donor provides specific funds.

4. Institution

Institutional publications are very few in the literary field. Granta, the New Yorker, the Atlantic Monthly, the Paris Review . . . are there many others? These are the kinds of publications that, were they to stop publishing tomorrow, would leave a distinct gap in the way the literary world understands itself. Were Ploughshares to move from Boston to Washington, Boston would feel a small twinge of pain; when the Atlantic announced just that, Boston felt punched in the gut, losing an institution with which it had shared so much history.

  • Age: >15 years old.
  • Independence: Full. Very large subscriber base; a board of active, devoted trustees; full-time professional staff; diverse pool of donors. Financially independent.
  • Compensation: Yes. Compensates writers well. Staff compensation rates vary but exists.
  • Timeliness: Yes. Planning happens months, sometimes a year or more, in advance. Highly professionalized staff means quick adjustments to events and fast turnaround of everything except fiction submissions, which number in the thousands.
  • Nurturing: Yes. Is the beacon to which the literary world looks for worldwide sustenance. Especially with festivals, institutional sponsorship allows people from around the world to share in common literary values. Size sometimes gets in the way of more personal ventures, but institution-publication events are affirmations of the literary life and of the institution itself.

George PlimptonI call these “rankings,” but really they are steps, rather like how athletes play their sport in high school, in college, and professionally, with only a small percentage making it from one level to another. For the here-and-now, it’s useful to know which publication falls where. But let no one forget that there’s another George Plimpton out there somewhere, just waiting to turn his “vanity” publication into the next Paris Review.


Jul 12 2006

Kickstart your late summer reading with the new issue of Tin House

Summer reading issue

On the heels of the new issue of the Paris Review comes the summer reading edition of the country’s best-designed (for reading) literary journal, Tin House.

This edition features fiction from Stephen King and Antonya Nelson, poetry by Ben Doyle and Grace Paley, interviews with Roddy Doyle and Will Self, and culinary-literary thoughts and advice from the likes of Iowa’s Lan Samantha Chang.

When I say best-designed for reading, I mean it. Journals like AGNI, as good as they are, feel good to be done with. Not Tin House. The last word brings disappointment. It’s the only journal I leaf back through like certain people re-view fashion magazines.

Meanwhile, don’t miss the June/July music issue of the Believer. Because if you do, you’ll never know the true history of the Numa Numa Song.

[Tin House]
[Paris Review]
[The Believer]


Jul 10 2006

New Paris Review

177_177Another great issue of The Paris Review is out. Worth the read just for Christopher Stewart’s interview with the seventy-three-year-old Serbian assassin who, in 1979, if it weren’t for his partner chickening out, would have been the first person to use a commercial jet as a missile in a terrorist act. (He hijacked the plane in Chicago in order to fly it to Belgrade and destroy the Communist headquarters there. But it was his partner who could tell from the air which building was HQ. He gave up, but only after refueling in New York and taking off towards Europe.)


Feb 23 2006

Why don't bookstores try to sell more of the books that help them sell more books?

I’ve been stalking bookstores for the last few months. While on business travel, from Long Beach to Atlanta, from Phoenix to Toronto, I’ve been stealing time to zip into Borderses and Barnes and Nobleses simply to make a list of what literary magazines each store stocks.

The results? On one hand, I’ve been impressed. The Rittenhouse Square Barnes and Noble in Philadelphia stocks a ton of lit mags, more even than my local Harvard Bookstore (often considered the country’s best independent). The Presse Internationale in Toronto’s Greektown not only sold a fantastic number of Canandian titles but also included many lesser known American ones, such as Atlanta’s Five Points.

On the other hand, the physical placement of literary magazines is dispiriting. Harvard Bookstore keeps them in a bizarre little shin-level shelf opposite their Christianity section. A Borders in Atlanta’s Buckhead neighborhood keeps its (impressive number of out-of-date) lit mags in the oddest place—in an end-cap shelf, fifteen feet away from literary glossies like Publishers Weekly and Bookforum, faced away from the rest of the room, and adjacent to a freight elevator. I couldn’t even find the shelf until my girlfriend phoned and I searched for the most out-of-the-way spot in the store to take the call. In fact, the only store I’ve ever seen that makes a point of highlighting its lit mag offerings is Trident Bookseller in Boston’s Back Bay, which sports a shelf at the end of the aisle created by the magazine racks and the long cafe bar.

So to the question I opened with. Why aren’t lit mags placed more prominently? Yes, they’re not best-sellers and they don’t earn kind of margins that blank journals, hardbacks, and remainders do. But don’t literary magazines dovetail with the Barnes and Noble ethos of creating the “literary environment”? Sure, some people go in to Barnes and Noble, sit and read, and leave without buying anything—but by virtue of sitting and reading, doesn’t that make Barnes and Noble the place you think of when you do want to buy a book? So shouldn’t the most purely bookish, most book-community-driven product in the world—the literary magazine—get to take its place at the front of the store? Moreover, isn’t it good business sense to sacrifice the sale of a few remainders if it means creating another generation of obsessive readers? It certainly worked for Starbucks, which decided long ago to sacrifice customer turnover in favor of customer zeal, and now we have a nationwide cafe culture, where none had existed before. That’s very good business!

Altogether, it makes me think of my favorite pizza place, a family-run joint in my first neighborhood in Cambridge. The owner, Armando Paolo, was asked by a reporter if business had lagged since a gourmet pizza place had opened up around the corner. “No,” he said and laughed. “We’ve had more people here than ever.” When asked why that was, Armando said, “The fancy place got people thinking even more about pizza. And when people around here think pizza, they think Armando’s.”

Bookstores, take that tip from Armando. Promote literary magazines because they promote the best of reading and writing. Shelve them front and center. It gets people excited about books—so be in on it. People want to associate that book-zeal with a particular place, a particular store. So when people think of books, make sure they think of you.


Jun 19 2005

Essay: On Literary Magazines (AGNI, N+1, Tin House, and McSweeney's)

by Andrew Whitacre

Imagine, say, the R&D folks at an automaker tell their boss, “Market research shows our potential customers hate orange. We are therefore launching a new line of orange cars, and only orange cars, until our customers come around.” Insanity, yes? But this is an insanity shared by literary magazines: each lit mag is published precisely because no one wants to read it.

Sure, there’s also the ego of the founding editor, a moral sincerity, communal desperation, or sustained glee. But a motive all lit mags have in common is a belief that certain stories—and not others—should be pushed in front of the eyes of otherwise indifferent readers. It’s an industry dedicated to breaking entrepreneurship’s first rule: you can’t create your market. The market’s there, lit mag folks insist, people just don’t know it yet!

Year after year, though, magazines fail because they couldn’t convince people to care. Continue reading


Apr 13 2005

Lit mag reviews

After my reading a copy of Tin House and seeing Jonathan Lethem had a story from Men and Cartoons placed there, it seems prudent that Fungible Convictions should on occasion review literary magazines.

Any thoughts?

Lit mags never get reviewed, and for obvious reasons. Why review a publication that itself includes reviews (and often (necessarily) minor-league writing) when time and space is limited and we all want to read reviews of the big-shot books anyway?

For certain people, especially young writers, knowing what literary magazines are doing, doing well, and doing poorly is valuable. And while no one buys lit mags–the best publications are almost always subsidized by a college or university–a surprising number of young adults do read them or, if not, would read them if someone told them so-and-so had just had a story placed and that it was good. (If our generation knows anything, it’s that artists’ names are cultural currency.)

The style of evaluating literary magazines in Fungible Convictions will be to compare a magazine’s own stated (or inferable) goals with what the magazine in fact publishes. Comparing one utterance to another, you could say. It would be too hard to account for a magazine’s popularity and influence. It would be almost as hard to judge the corpus of writing in the variegated genres magazines must publish in–it’s tricky enough reviewing a collection of short stories, but how does one review a collection of short stories, poems, essays, and artwork, all by different people with different styles and obsessions? Lit mag reviews in FC will take the same tack, then, as FC’s book reviews: concentrating on the following questions: who’s it meant for, what’s it akin to, and is it worth your time as an aging human being?

We’ll see what develops.