We've Read over 4,000 Submission Guidelines. Here's Some Feedback

You can find the full, original version of this post here.

My partner, who is not a writer, helps us with our social media. While researching themed calls for a post the other day, she asked, "If these magazines want people to submit to them, why do they make it so fucking hard to figure out how?"

See, submitting to some literary magazines is like showing up on a date to meet someone who says, "OK, if you want a chance with me you need to shower three times a day, eat only fish, drive a nice car, call your family regularly, wear clean socks, give back massages, love cats, hate ferrets, drink 2% milk, and be a goddamn pro at hopscotch. Also, here is a portfolio of all of my exes. I want you to be like them but not exactly like them. K? I'll let you know in three to six months if you made the cut."

And if they get back to you, it's with a prerecorded voice message that says, "Dear average human, don't take this personally, but I don't love you. I have so many people who love me, so it's hard to choose. I'm sure there is someone out there who will want you, though."

Coming across this can be disheartening. Come across it enough times and you might reasonably conclude: I'm gonna die alone.

But for editors, this scenario is flipped and can feel like swiping on Tinder at an incel convention.

No one has solved this dynamic. And, if Twitter is any indication, everyone has tried at least twice.

But one problem we can help with is when a magazine desperately wants more submissions, but isn't getting them. And, in our humble opinion (after reviewing 4,000+ submission guidelines), we believe this has to do with several factors that pop up at us as we have built our database.

When we decided to do this startup diary, the first thing Karina sent me was a rant about all of the things she dealt with when she started Chill Subs and was parsing through guidelines. She is working on a huge project release, which is keeping her too busy to explain her thoughts here, so I'll share snippets of her rant and elaborate when necessary.

Note: We do believe that most editors are not malicious. We always assume that most magazines either don’t know or don’t have the time to make these changes. So we’re taking the good-faith approach of throwing a sass parade about it like a couple of dramatic know-it-alls.

Have a clear link to submission guidelines

Karina: Have a clear submissions page link. That's called like … Submissions. That's really not a place to be creative, you don't have to call it "Make Soup With Us" or something, I'm looking for Submissions.

Ben: It's hard to give advice on this first bit without sounding condescending. But, and we say this with all the love in the world, have an obvious link to your submission guidelines. Also, call them "submission guidelines,” “submissions,” or “submit."

Surely, no one can argue with the editorial logic that keeping it simple and straightforward is best.

Are you open for submissions??

Karina: Have a clear "open/closed" status on top of your guidelines, don't be afraid to use a huuuuge font. We really want to know that. I hate it when you're reading 5 pages of guidelines and at the bottom of the page it says, "Submissions are currently closed, come back later."

Ben: No notes.

Keep things updated across platforms

Karina: Please update the website. For some reason, I saw a few magazines update their Twitter more than they update their website, and while the website says they are open, they already tweeted like 5 days ago that they no longer accept submissions.

Ben: We can hear the protesting already. Who has the time to keep a website updated!? But we’d like to respectfully point out that if you want to start a hobby you don't have time for, we'd recommend something that doesn't involve other people's hopes, dreams, and egos.

Let writers know who you are

Karina: A masthead page is important. I know there are some people out there who want to get published just for the sake of it, but I'm this little weirdo who wants to know who is going to read my work, because then you feel like the acceptance actually means something to a person. Like, this exact person liked it. If I wanted to keep reading my poems to a faceless wall, I have plenty of walls in my apartment.

Ben: In our experience, it seems that when there is no masthead with no explanation, there are also high fees and other sketchy stuff going on. And like, hey, don't be sketch.

Be conscious of the design

Karina: Please remember that your website is where writers invite people to see their work. It doesn't have to be super fancy; you don't have to hire a designer, but it has to look at least somewhat nice. At least not have a yellow font on white background. At least display normally on mobile.

Ben: I would also add here that the way information is organized and presented is as important as the look and feel. When requirements are buried in massive walls of text or shoe-horned into general FAQs on separate pages, it’s not only unwieldy but unpleasant. Where’s the harm in a clear bullet point list? Is bolding important information so hard?

Let’s return to the dating metaphor for a moment.

There will always be writers who come strolling in, picking their nose with their butt-scratching finger, dropping unorganized stacks of bullshit down, and demanding a magazine admire their brilliance.

We get it. As editors, we deal with a lot of nose-pickers.

But the cleaner and clearer the website, the more well-meaning writers who care about how their work is presented will want to publish on it.

It’s that simple.