It was rejected.

This was back in the day when you sent a hard copy, your work proudly printed on real paper (I had an electronic typewriter by then, so the work looked swish!), in a big yellow envelope with another big yellow envelope inside with your return address and return postage. Then you waited six months, not daring to challenge the publisher’s command of NOT SUBMITTING TO ANOTHER PUBLISHER WHILE WE REVIEW YOUR WORK.

When the rejection arrived, I was deflated. I knew my work was as good as those shiny checkout books. But it seemed they were not continuing the series. Just my luck. Wrong place at the wrong time. What I didn’t realize then was that the rejection I received was positive. The publisher had taken the time to send me a note of encouragement. I didn’t see that of course. I only saw the rejection.

And I went on to see a lot more rejection. 25 years’ worth to be honest. Some rejections were curt, Dear Author, thanks, but no thanks. Others gave me a glimmer of hope, We loved your story but it’s not for us/is similar to another story we are about to publish/our list is full for this year. Others took my story to the acquisition stage, where I like to imagine the publishing team wrestling with the marketing team in a fight to the death. The death of my dream that is, the manuscript would be returned with a We couldn’t quite get it over the line.

I started to hate my friends. Well, not really. I love my friends and always celebrate their successes, but I started to hate going on social media. My social media feed was full of authors and books and success. Which is not surprising, given that I’m a writer and I only really follow authors and books. But it seemed everyone was basking in publishing glory. One of my author friends’ goldfish even got a publishing contract. OK, so I made that bit up. But it seemed anyone who could write a coherent sentence got a publishing contract except me.

I decided I would quit writing. I was obviously no good at it. I didn’t have a publishing contract and it didn’t look likely I would ever get one. So, I quit. For a whole 12 hours. It was the worst 12 hours of my life. This is what happened. As soon as I made the declaration to myself that ‘I quit’ all I could think about was writing. Not publishing. Just writing. I remembered the little kid I’d been at school hanging out for English class, so I’d get to write a story. I remembered locking myself in my room to write a scary story for a competition (I scared myself so much I couldn’t finish it, ran screaming down the stairs and refused to go back into my room). I remembered starting my first novel at age 9 and bursting into tears when I finished it aged 12. I remembered the joy of writing. I’d lost that. Under the ton of rejections, somewhere, was that lost joy and I had to find it again.

So, I started a new project. I got back on the horse. I wrote a story. And another. And another. I’ve written a lot of stories, poems, children’s books, three novels. You can write a lot in 25 years.

I decided to go it alone. After a quarter of a century of getting rejected I decided I would self-publish. I wanted to write a book for my students to help them overcome anxiety and fear of failure. I’d done all the research on how to self-publish and I was ready to take control. That’s when it happened. I received an email from Dixi Books in the UK saying they loved a picture book manuscript I’d sent and would like to publish it. I nearly fainted and my husband cracked the champagne. They also asked what else I was working on. I told them about my non-fiction book. That has now been published by them.

Now I’m 51 with grandkids at my toes. If, like me, the thought of not writing is the same as the thought of not breathing, I hate to break it to you, but you are a writer. You have to write. But write for the joy of the word, the excitement of an unfolding plot, the fun of discovering what comes next. Forget about publication and the validation that you feel will come with that. Publication more often than not comes down to being in the right place at the right time with the right publisher looking at your work. You can’t control that. What you can control are the words on the screen. Lose yourself in them. Relish them. Find your joy. Create a body of work that you love. Why? Because further down the track, maybe 25 years down the track, if a publisher says to you, ‘do you have anything else we can look at?’ You can say with glee, ‘Well, I’m glad you asked!’

Bio: Lorraine’s first non-fiction book, You’ve Got This, Tips for the Uncertain Student was published by Dixi Books in 2021. Her first picture book, When You Left, is scheduled to be released later this year. Lorraine believes books can change the world, and the right book at the right time can change your life. You can see her non-fiction book here – https://dixibooks.com/product/youve-got-this/

Extra Teeth
This is a Scottish magazine with an international outlook; they publish fiction and nonfiction. “We look for short stories that stick with you, lingering in the memory long after reading, and essays that explore specific interests or issues from a new perspective. We offer a space for writers to be strange, bold and experimental, and to express their unique style however they see fit.” They also commission one guest illustrator per issue, whom they pay £500.
Deadline: 14 June 2022
Length: 800-4,000 words
Pay: £100
Details here.
(And Mud Season Review is open for fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. Pay is $50, and the deadline is 30 June 2022, or until filled, for fee-free submissions.)

The Puritan
This Canadian literary magazine publishes fiction, nonfiction, interviews, reviews, and poetry. They accept a limited number of fee-free submissions every month.
Deadline: 25 June 2022 for Summer issue; reads year-round
Length: Up to 10,000 words for fiction, up to 4 poems; various for nonfiction (see guidelines)
Pay: CAD200 per essay; CAD150 for fiction; CAD100 per interview or review; CAD25 per poem (or page, capped at CAD80)
Details here.

Mythic
This is a quarterly speculative fiction magazine seeking diverse sci-fi and fantasy fiction. They also accept reprints. They read during March, June, September, and December.
Deadline: 30 June 2022
Length: 2,000-5,000 words
Pay: $0.01/word
Details here.
(And Fusion Fragment will open a very short submission window in June. They want “Science fiction or SF-tinged literary fiction stories and novelettes ranging anywhere from 2,000 to 15,000 words. Although any science fiction subgenre is fair game, our tastes lean towards slipstream, cyberpunk, post-apocalypse, and anything with a little taste of the bizarre.” Pay is CAD3.5c/word, up to CAD300. Reading period is 10^th to 12^th June 2022. Details here.)

The Willowherb Review
This UK-based magazine only publishes nature writing by writers of color anywhere in the world (often termed BAME or BIPOC). They want nonfiction especially, but they consider fiction and poetry as well — on nature, place, and environment. “If you’re unsure if your piece fits the bill, let’s just say we believe nature writing can tackle all sorts of issues: from stories of farming to long treks, tales of migration, racism, community, and beauty. You might be writing about remote places, cities, lost landscapes, or old homes. We’re looking forward to seeing what matters most to emerging nature writers. Above all, your submission should have a great sense of place and attention to the natural world.” They do not want literary criticism.
Deadline: 30 June 2022
Length: Up to 3,000 words for prose, up to 3 poems
Pay: £100 for poetry and £250 for prose
Details here.

Palette Poetry
They publish poems from writers at all stages of their careers, and especially encourage emerging poets to submit. Send up to 5 poems. (They’re also running a fee-based contest for women poets.)
Deadline: Ongoing
Length: Up to 5 poems
Pay: $50/poem, up to $150
Details here. (scroll down)

Bio: S. Kalekar is the pseudonym of a regular contributor to this magazine. She can be reached here.

Their covers are wonderful and topic-appropriate. They seem to have good distribution within the UK. It’s very easy to get a feel for what they publish in terms of both niche markets by visiting their main page here.

They put in effort in terms of promoting their authors and sporadically host events, which you can see listed here. They are active on social media.

You can submit your work via email or post.

For Military Aviation submissions, they ask that you email a synopsis, a sample chapter and brief author biography. For Cookery submissions they ask that you email a contents page, up to 10 sample recipes and a brief author biography to a different email address. You can see both email addresses, and the postal address listed here.

Emily Harstone is the author of many popular books, including The Authors Publish Guide to Manuscript Submissions, Submit, Publish, Repeat, and The 2021 Guide to Manuscript Publishers.

The Dread Machine accepts reprints, as long as the writing doesn’t appear anywhere else online for free. They also pay authors: $0.05 per word for unpublished fiction, $0.01 per word for reprinted fiction, and $10 per poem.

The Dread Machine is published four times a year, in print and as a downloadable e-pub. They also act as a publishing house, printing full-length books. You can get a sense of their aesthetic by reading short excerpts from their publications online.

Authors of fiction may submit up to three stories (each in a separate submission). Unpublished stories can be up to 5,500 words, and reprints can be up to 7,000 words. Poets may submit up to 50 lines. Submitting authors can expect a response within two months.

The Dread Machine reads submissions blind. They do not take the author’s previous publications into account when considering the submitted writing. They believe that each story should stand for itself.

The Dread Machine accepts submissions online, not via email or by post. They accept simultaneous submissions but ask that authors withdraw work published elsewhere. They do not accept religious fiction, fetish horror, or erotica.

The Dread Machine only accepts submissions that adhere to the guidelines they’ve posted online. Please read these guidelines in full before submitting.

If you would like to learn more or submit to The Dread Machine, please visit their website here.

Bio: Ella Peary is the pen name for an author, editor, creative writing mentor, and submission consultant. Over the past five years, she’s written hundreds of articles for Authors Publish, and she’s also served as a copywriter and copy editor for a wide range of organizations and individuals. She is the author of The Quick Start Guide to Flash Fiction. She occasionally teaches a course on flash fiction. You can contact her at ellapeary@gmail.com.