My submissions have been sent out into the world.
Yesterday, I tried four Kinko’s copiers until I scored and found a decent one. Last night I printed cover notes, stapled, sorted, SASE’d, and addressed envelopes. There was a satisfying stack at the end of this—made smaller by the few magazines that now accept online submissions—and I happily stamped a red First Class onto each envelope. Sure, it may not be necessary, but I bought that stamp many years ago and it hasn’t dried up yet. Also, I like the way it looks.
Of course I am doing simultaneous submissions. (Check out this blog post I found about just this topic.) Unfortunately, doing so meant I couldn’t submit to some really exciting journals that I do read. Oh well.
It occurred to me today that literary magazines are not the only ones who despise simultaneous submissions. Take, for example, the woman behind me at the post office this morning. I waited for the machine just like everyone else–and I did stamps, rather than weighing and metering individually—but this woman could not stop complaining. “I knew I should have gone on the real line!” “How many do you have?” “You can’t buy stamps there, you know. Oh you can? Well, it sure is taking a long time printing.” “How many did you say you had again?” “Look at how many she has! I have two.”
I was going to let her go ahead of me—until she started being obnoxious. Then I just let her wait. I am not happy that she tainted my post office experience, though. People really need to calm down when they go in there. What is it about a post office that brings out so much buried rage?
But no matter the struggles that went into getting these stories out of my hands—what’s done is done. They’re on their way. Now they can languish in mountains of slush all over the country. Fun!