Olivia Smith // Blog Writer
Step 1: Submit your work.
Perhaps one of the hardest things you can do as a writer is send your work into the unknown. Your short story isn’t just a work of fiction; rather, it is a product of restless nights of brainstorming, cramped fingers from typing, and too many caffeinated drinks. Despite this fact, you acknowledge that you must submit it somewhere, because you don’t want to be a writer, you want to be a published writer. And to be a published writer you need to muster the courage to search through various calls for submissions, comb through each one until you find the perfect fit, and finally, after reading the guidelines over and over again, you will close your eyes and click submit.
Step 2: Wait.
If you are exceptionally lucky, you will hear back in two weeks. You are not this lucky. When a month passes by, you realize that the silence is actually a good thing; the publisher is simply taking her time, absorbing each symbol, detail, and nuanced image in your story.
If you are unlucky, you will wait several months and send the dreaded follow-up email. You have never had to do this before, and so you are nervous, but you figure that you waiting the appropriate length of time (at least six months) and using understanding yet firm language will portray you as the justified, conscientious writer. You may receive a response, but it will probably be a standard email. If you are especially unlucky, you will not receive a response at all until the day, possibly months later, when you learn their decision.
Step 3: Open the email.
You will probably not be expecting the email when you receive it. You submitted your beloved short story several months ago, and by now you are refining your new masterpiece. When you check your phone and see the notification – “RE. SHORT STORY SUBMISSION” – your heart will skip a beat. Before opening it, you look around. You are probably in a classroom or a library and surrounded by strangers that have no idea that you have just received a life-changing email. You will hold your breath and click the notification.
“Thank you for your submission. We receive work from many talented writers, but we unfortunately cannot accept it all. We regret to inform you-”
Step 4: Get upset.
You won’t cry over this – no, it is after all, just one rejection – but you will be very, very sad. However, despite being very, very sad, you will not actually be sad enough to tell anyone your news. Perhaps the only thing worse than being rejected is telling other people about it; you would be admitting to have lost a game that no one knew you were playing.
Step 5: Think it over.
Once the wound of rejection has scabbed over, you might be able to look over your short story once again. When you open the document, you will find that you are not greeted with the literature of the century. Maybe it isn’t as perfectly polished as you may have once thought. This isn’t to say that your work is bad, but at this point, a year has probably passed since you submitted that piece. A year in which you will have grown as a writer and a reader. A year in which you will have learned new words and new ways to create better stories. Your best work will now have probably surpassed that of last year’s, and that’s a good thing. In this moment you will realize that every sentence you write and rewrite will bring you one sentence closer to the best thing you’ve ever written. And once you write that, you will be one story closer to your next best thing.
Step 6: Submit your work. Again.
This time it will be easier. Though you may still pause before officially submitting your work, it is a shorter pause than the first time, and it will continually get smaller. This time, you will have more confidence; this time, you have more experience and know that, even if you are rejected, it will be okay.
But this time, you will work harder. This time, you will do research before submitting. You will take the time to read through the publication’s last issue and decide if you truly fit their brand. You may look at more publications this time, and you may submit it to multiple places. This time, with this piece, you may actually be published.
In a few months, another row in your Submittable profile may switch from “In-Progress” to the dreaded “Declined” label. But it might – just might – change to “Accepted.”
Isn’t that worth the risk?