Keep Your Masthead Clean, or: Just Say No to Literary Incest
Nepotism is a dirty word. That’s exactly how I’ll begin this piece of well-articulated bitching. And yes, I just used the word “bitching” because it’s the age of the Internet and, well, we can get away with those kinds of things now.
There are many things that chafe me in regards to the literary world, or rather, the “literary machine,” which is what I’m going to call it because it sounds way cooler and more science fiction-ey. There’s constant name dropping, but that’s no biggie. There’s the incessant self-promotion, which (and don’t lie) we all do to some degree. And we have to, right? Who else is going to promote our work for us? And then there’s even the certain select few that seem to have a stronghold (or stranglehold, depending on how you look at it) on several of the magazines I consider “top dog” – or, in my opinion, my favorite places to read literature and all the relative commentary and culture about the literary machine. (See? Sci-fi! Dystopia!) But even that I can get behind, because generally, that small handful of folks who’ve got their hands in everyone else’s business are there for a reason: they earned it. They work hard. And even if you don’t like it, on some level, you’ve got to respect it.
But that’s not what I’m talking about. In my view, one of the biggest lit sins is shitting where you eat. It takes the form of promoting or publishing your work within an avenue that you’ve got high stakes in. If you’re part of a journal’s editorial staff, it doesn’t seem right that you’d submit work for consideration in that journal. If you’ve ever been a part of said journal, the same applies.
The obvious reason is that it’s the polar opposite of classy, a word used to describe something that’s done in good taste. It stands at the top of my “literary faux pas” list, which only has about three or four items on it, but still. It shows you that for the most part, I am a reasonable, calm person who lets others do their thing without interruption or intercession. You want to self-promo? Good for you! You want to name-drop? I’m impressed! (Chances are, you’ve kind of earned it.) But when it comes to items on “The List,” as I’ll call it (because “The List” sounds much more sinister and scary and way more important than it probably is), I’m not willing to compromise. Not only that, but I’m not even willing to consider. I’ve never been a black and white kind of chick (I’m rather gray and murky myself), but when it comes to my cardinal lit sin, that’s where I stand.
I could quote Tom Petty here and offer up a line of “I Won’t Back Down,” but that’s cliché. Or I could offer you the age-old saying that reads, “If you stand for nothing, you’ll fall for anything.” But then that might make me sound a little melodramatic, and sounding melodramatic is not optimal when you’re trying to make a point.
So instead, I took the high road (obviously) and employed the method of articulately bitching on Twitter (I was laughing as I typed that, in case some of you don’t understand sarcasm). Here’s what I said:
Plenty of writers jumped into the conversation (see the Storify below). A general consensus? Nepotism is bad. Journals and magazines publishing work from the members of their editorial boards is bad.
Of course, there were a few exceptions.
1.) Consider the way that the magazine or website is set up. Many literary magazines and/or websites have grown into their own communities, much like HTMLGiant, PANK, The Rumpus and Specter, even. These places have developed a diverse reader and have real appeal because they subscribe to a few key ideas. They believe in having a stable of writers who contribute regularly, the editors solicit work from awesome and/or relevant people, and they accept pitches or general submissions. I believe this is the trifecta of awesomeness (and it really is awesome, because these elements seem to add up to some magic formula that can turn air into gold in an impossible feat of alchemy), because these magazines/websites/journals have taken what we think of as a “literary community” to a whole new level.
2.) You were published in the journal/magazine/website before you joined the editorial staff. This happens frequently, and it’s pretty cool. I am a fan (it’s happened to me). It makes sense, too. (This point was brought up by the lovely Aubrey Hirsch.)
But then there is the point where there are not or shouldn’t be exceptions. If your name is on the masthead of a journal that has been known to publish reputable work, stay classy – publish it elsewhere. There are thousands of avenues for your work, and if you believe in the integrity of the one you’re working for, you shouldn’t want to dilute it. Editors, you should know better. Students, staffers, and alumni, so should you.
And before you all jump on how insignificant my ideas and/or opinions about this are, and how I “don’t know anything” or am just plain crazy, know that pretty much 80% of the literary world would agree (okay, to be fair, the statistics were a rough estimation of my own).
My writer friends Colin Rafferty, Elizabeth Wade and Brian Oliu seconded this via Twitter, offering the example of the University of Alabama’s Black Warrior Review. As Elizabeth said, “We knew we couldn’t be up for BWR, since we’d been in/around the program at UA.” A lot of programs and their corresponding journals have policies in place to address these issues – which seems to me like a good idea. I can honestly say that when the masthead and list of published authors begin to look a little too similar – or, say, when it happens more than once – I get a really icky, icky feeling. Followed by boiling rage (in case you hadn’t noticed). It feels incestuous and, well, wrong.
And now, to reinforce my point, I’ll leave you with a video of Tom Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down.” You’re welcome.
As someone who is pretty much lost in the fog on the very distant fringes of the literary world, I can often feel it’s a closed shop, populated by self-satisfied self-congratulators. Especially after receiving yet another rejection.
I’m not disagreeing with your point, but I feel that when the great moment finally arrives and me and my writing are lauded as the greatest literary latent for the next five minutes, I shall probably begin to see the literary world bathed in all it’s glorious fabulousness.
I presume something triggered your volcano today, and you are most likely right, but I’ve a feeling my own views would vary depending on how my well ego was being massaged – and maybe that’s a point to consider. IE, nobody cares once the massaging starts and we sink into velvet dreams filled with songs telling how wonderful we are – even if the choir is a handful of people who are only listening to themselves.
Also, such complacency drives other to create great new magazines to house literary excellence – like Specter for example: perhaps there is a silver lining to the grey cloud raining on your/our parade. 🙂
I’m curious: what else is on your literary faux pas list?
@akmayhew – To be honest, I can think of only one other that is even close to being as grating as the nepotism, & that would be a lack of professionalism. That’s sort of an umbrella of ills, though, considering that I feel nepotism falls under the “unprofessional” category. The other thing is (and this is partially why I don’t usually get highly involved with Internet discussions about lit or the lit scene, save for a few places) the devolution of commentary on the works of others. I think that people can and should make uncomfortable points (this essay wasn’t exactly comfortable for me, but I felt and still feel strongly about it), and have discussions, but there is always someone who is on the attack. I realize this essay might come off that way to some, but I’ve attempted to point out my own flaws & shortcomings by poking fun at myself, too. Basically I think it translates to: “have respect.” I feel like there is a lack of that in a lot of discussions (a few particular comment threads from across the interwebs come to mind). I wished we could all do a better job of fostering better communication and respectful disagreement & discussion across the board. Whew, that was rambling. What about you? Do you have any lit pet peeves?
@mickdavidson I had typed out a whole response to this last night, but was not able to update it. Anyway, I think you make a valid point in terms of “how well ego was being massaged,” but I wouldn’t say that wholly applies. As I mentioned before, there are a number (and we’re talking big numbers) of reputable MFA programs and journals that do not allow this type of cross-pollination between the editorial board and their content. And while it’s easy to “sink into velvet dreams,” as you put it, I think that the majority of people avoid that sort of situation. There are certain things that are part of my “code” as a writer, and they are most likely different from a lot of other people’s code (and that’s completely okay — takes all types to make a world, you know?). For example, I don’t flood the journal market with submissions. I have friends who do, and that’s okay for them. It’s part of their code, I have mine. But I think you’ll find a lot more common ground than not when it comes to a situation where the masthead and contributors’ list looks eerily similar. I mean, it elicits a rather physical reaction almost, doesn’t it? So I agree that ego might come in to play for a lot of people, but there’s still that notion of, “Oh, that’s treading a dangerous line.”
I’m amazed that you gave HTMLGiant, PANK, The Rumpus and Specter a pass as they have simply moved an invisible masthead to continue the circle jerk at more respectable levels.
@Westworm Except they’ve formed a different model of the literary journal that, quite frankly, encompasses many more voices than, say, an annual, bi-annual or quarterly journal. It’s no surprise that plenty of the latter journals were left in the dust in the age of the Internet, and places with models that mirror these tend to be serving a need of a literary community — much better than the “traditional” journals. That’s not to say that the traditional journals do not possess an extremely high quality of work (they do). There’s just a difference. One is more community-based, the other is not. They’re different models.
Do you feel like all literary journals are operating with preference to their own mastheads? Or is the circle jerk everywhere and inevitable?
@AshleyBethard I guess I would say that I believe that many literary journals are operating with preference to the mastheads of others. I find this to be a worse but often-overlooked form of incest. Besides just getting tired of the same dozen names, I find it impossible to imagine the same standards being applied to others at the top of this community. And the quality and diversity suffers as a result.
@Westworm I think that’s a very valid point. I’ve noticed that, too. I think part of the reason for that, though, is the fact that the people who end up on the mastheads of the more “illustrious” journals are people who have been published a lot, and then that that sort of “stature,” if you will, leads to opportunities at or solicitations from other journals. Good point, though.
@AshleyBethard And I sat by the phone waiting too! 🙂 I agree with you, and I wasn’t having a go at you, in case you thought that. I was looking at it from a very personal angle. I’ve felt on the outside for ages. I don’t see only the same old faces, so don’t worry about that sort of thing. But I was talking about my ego: I’m sure mine will inflate to fill the known universe should I ever get a book deal. 🙂
[…] When I read Ashley’s article last week, and further read the comments, a few points came to mind. One, for the accused, the literary magazine, the debate is a no-win situation. The lit mag editor is free to run her publication as she chooses and, likewise, she must reconcile and deal with any consequences. […]
Since the beginnings of literary magazines—say, as far back as the 19th century Pre-Raphaelite magazine The Germ and on up into Modernist mags such as Poetry and The Dial, and still up to contemporary mags like Boulevard, McSweeney’s, and New York Quarterly—editors have published the work of persons from the masthead, friends, friends of friends, and etc. Why should traditional practices in the medium stop now? Honest question.