Brother Mockingbird Publishing is a small independent press committed to discovering writers from the American South, but they are also open to good fiction, regardless of where the author is based. They were founded in 2018. They publish a wide range of genres including women’s fiction, historical fiction, romance, mystery (including thrillers and cozies), upmarket, thriller, suspense, science fiction, fantasy, horror, supernatural, and young adult. They just started a new imprint called Small Town Girl. They are looking for manuscripts that take place in or about the 80’s. Fiction and non-fiction is allowed. When you submit they ask that you include a query letter, synopsis, first chapter, author bio, as well as a marketing plan. The marketing plan should discuss your author platform, its scope, and the ways in which you plan to reach potential reviewers and readers. Please link to your website, social media, etc. They are also interested in any other promotional opportunities you have access to.

Use the title of your manuscript in the subject line. Send all of it in the body of the email. Do not send attachments. They are trying to respond to all submissions within 4 months. If you do not hear from them in this time please reach out. Please contact them if you are removing it from consideration.

The royalty rates they offer depend on the amount of editing the work requires but are generally within the 20-40% rate, of net, not gross.

They have distribution with Ingram, which is not ideal, but they do advertise and offer incentives for bookstores to carry their books, which is a good start. They do not have a sales team or marketing department. All edits to manuscripts should be compliant with the Chicago Manual of Style.

To learn more about Small Town Girl or to submit, go here. To learn more about Brother Mockingbird, go here.

Emily Harstone is the author of many popular books, including The Authors Publish Guide to Manuscript Submissions, Submit, Publish, Repeat, and The 2020 Guide to Manuscript Publishers.

She regularly teaches three acclaimed courses on writing and publishing at The Writer’s Workshop at Authors Publish. You can follow her on Facebook here.

They pay authors 8 cents a word for original work and 4 cents a word for reprints. They also pay artists $125 for a non-exclusive license to display artwork on their website  They have a hard upper limit of 9,000 words per story, and no official lower limit.

You can get a good idea for what they publish by reading past issues here.

All submissions are made through the Moksha submissions system, and you must follow their detailed guidelines outlined here.

Their theme guidelines are as follows:

• The story must have a speculative element. It needs something beyond the everyday. We love science fiction and fantasy, enjoy good ghost stories, and think there’s great fiction material hidden in the mysteries of Christian theology–cherubim, leviathan, nephilim, visions, prophecy, and more.

• The story must engage with Christianity. We want stories with Christian characters whose faith affects their actions, with Christian themes such as grace and redemption, or with a Christian view of the supernatural. Note that we’re not saying that you must be a Christian. We are not in a position to judge your faith and won’t try, and we welcome submissions from authors of all backgrounds and perspectives. Nor does your story need to be unambiguously pro-Christian. If you can tell a good story that meaningfully engages with Christianity, we want to read it.

To learn more, or to submit, go here.

Light is published twice a year online, and each issue features around fifty poets. In addition to their biannual journal, Light also publishes Poems of the Week: a weekly feature of poems responding to topics currently in the news. Light has been publishing humorous poetry since 1992.

Light accepts submissions year-round. They take a break from reading submissions in late January and early February, as well as in late July and early August, but they still accept submissions during this time. Authors submitting to Light’s biannual journal can expect a response within about four months. Authors submitting to Light’s Poem of the Week feature can expect a response by Tuesday of the following week. The feature runs each Monday, and the weekly deadline for submissions is Friday.

Poets may submit up to five funny poems for Light’s biannual journal, or up to two funny poems responding to current news topics for Light’s Poems of the Week feature. Light only accepts poetry, not fiction or nonfiction prose. They accept all forms and styles of poetry, from formal to free verse, traditional to experimental, though most of the poetry they publish is rhymed. The do not accept prose poems. Light reads submissions blind, so submitting authors should take care to include identifying information only in the cover letter, not on the poems themselves.

Light accepts submissions using an online submission manager, not via email or by post. They do not accept simultaneous submissions, and they do not accept previously published work (this includes work published on blogs and public social media). They do, however, accept poems previously published in print journals and anthologies, as long as the publication isn’t recent (within the past two years).

Light only accepts submissions that follow the guidelines they’ve posted online. Please read these guidelines in full before submitting.

If you would like to learn more or submit to Light, 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.

Creativity can be counterintuitive. You might have experienced that in the creative process, like when ideas spring from the most unlikely places, but it can appear in the results too.

One would think finishing a big piece of writing would result in a flood of positive emotions – happiness, pride or at least relief that it’s finally over. But for some writers, the mix of emotions upon completing a final draft is definitely different. They might feel unsatisfied, uncertain and generally unhappy with the result.

Author angst, the feeling that what you’ve written isn’t good enough or even outright bad, is far from an isolated sentiment. Plenty of legendary authors hated their own work, whether it’s because they grew to dislike their characters or the atmosphere surrounding it, or they just felt it wasn’t up to their standards.

If you’re also feeling it, there are a couple of things to do to combat, or at least ease, the feeling of author angst. The first thing is to acknowledge it. It’s not bad, it’s not weird, and it’s not a sign that your work is bad or weird. It means you’re a human being as well as a writer.

You can also acknowledge you might not be the most objective observer of your own work. Some of us have been living with these manuscripts for a while, for weeks or months or years. That’s a long time to have what is essentially a demanding roommate (there’s a reason some creative types call pieces of work their “babies”).

On the other hand, if you’re feeling tough, you can consider your author angst critically. Try to turn it into something productive. Objectively ask yourself: what do I feel angsty about? Is it something specific? Is my dialogue unnatural? Are my descriptions not sexy? When you’ve given it some thought, re-read a couple passages and see if there’s any merit to those fears. The worst thing that will happen is you’ll do some re-writing, and there’s noting wrong with that.

If you can’t pinpoint anything specific, then give yourself some space. Read a book, catch up on streaming, find some missing socks – and, okay, you can wallow in self-pity for a little bit. Then come back and ask yourself what was really there. You might find there was nothing to feel angsty about to begin with.

The final thing you can do is maybe the most important. Rather than acknowledge the angst, acknowledge the accomplishment. After all, you wrote something, and that’s kind of amazing.

Some people say everyone has the potential for a novel in them. Even if that’s true – and we all probably know at least one person who makes that maxim seem doubtful – what’s also true is that not everyone has the ability to turn that potential into an actual novel.

Whether you’re feeling angsty about your first draft or anguished by your nineteenth, you have to admit, you have more than potential. You took that novel inside and manifested it as something you can feel and read and, yes, wonder if it’s any good. You’re in the ranks of the few, the proud, the ones with worn-out keyboards and notebooks filled with crazy serial-killer writing we call “notes.” You’re a writer, and no one has more right to feel bad – or good – about your work than you.