One surefire way of getting published in early 21st century America is to go to college and study English, work your way through a master's--preferably an MFA--degree, adapt and adopt your writing to fit the tastes and preconceptions of an influential faculty member, get that faculty member to recommend you to his publisher or agent, prevail upon your faculty patron to write a positive review of your book when it appears, and be prepared to render services in return when called upon. This is a process known either as apprenticeship or as sucking up.

Many fine people have built careers this way. Most of us have met some of them, perhaps as teachers whom we've admired, or perhaps we've met them through the pages of their books. This doesn't change the fact that there is something very curious, very ossified about such a system.

To put it another way, it stinks.

So if you are a writer of fiction who is still trying to chalk up your first publishing credits, and you're not mobbed up with the right sort of connections as described above, what do you do?

First of all, it's somewhat arrogant of me to presume to answer that question. My first novel, The Event, has just been published by Domhan Books and in the last two years my short stories have been included in a couple of anthologies in Italy, and my fiction and poetry have been appearing with increasing frequency in magazines here in the states. Still, I'm no publishing industry veteran; but perhaps that's just as well. People who have climbed a few rungs up the literary ladder are often amazingly susceptible to the notion that the system which promoted them to their modicum of success is fundamentally fair and sound in its judgments.

Ain't so.

If you're like me and have neither academic connections nor an in-born knack for thinking and writing best-sellers, you've got to pursue an alternate tack. Find those publications that will actually look at what you send them. They are few and far between, but they do exist.

I can hear editors protesting "I, for one, endeavor to give every submission I receive a fair and conscientious reading, and I know that the majority of my colleagues, etc. etc. etc."

Bull. If you don't have a recognizable name, or an introduction from someone who does, your short story or novel will probably get about as much attention as a piece of junk mail.

Who will look at your work? Andrei Codrescu's Exquisite Corpse will. *spark- online will. The Barcelona Review will. That doesn't mean they'll publish it, but they will look at it--and maybe even write back, possibly with info that will prove helpful to you in the future.

Make up your own list of responsive publications by combing through articles like this one and by sending your own stories out…by the bushel.

Do you have a story you believe in but can't get published? Send it out to 20 different magazines at once. Simultaneous submissions are, of course, frowned upon by editors. But they've already got a magazine in which to publish their work; you don't.

What will happen to your 20 submissions? If you're lucky you'll garner one acceptance (chances are very slim that you will be accepted in two places and thus have to disappoint or anger one of the editors). You may end up with 20 rejections, but if you find one responsive magazine, then you're ahead of the game.

Republic Without Boundaries

Earlier, I mentioned three publications by name. They are all e-zines. Personally, I'm not too keen on computers, and when politicians, educators, businesspeople and other windbags start going on about the endless possibilities of the Internet I usually turn off. It's a fact, though, that the literary people who have chosen to place their publications online tend to be more open, more receptive, more eager to engage in dialogue with new writers. So cruise the Net, and don't limit yourself to e-zines based in North America. And when you find an e-zine that excites you, don't just send in your material; support the publication and its authors with your comments and your attention.

By discovering alternate networks of writers and editors and publications that interest and excite us--and supporting them--we help breathe new life in that old phrase "the republic of letters." By going down this path we'll have some fun, we will help keep our minds and spirits alive, and there's a good chance we will see our own names in print along the way.

Building communities of interest like this can have far-reaching, positive consequences. For example, earlier this year an Italian scholar named Gino Da Mitri heard via the Net that I had a book review column. He wrote me asking if I would review a book by his friend, poet Elio Coriano. I agreed, excited at the prospect of discovering a new writer (new for me at any rate). When the book arrived from Italy I read it and enjoyed it, and thus was able to give it a positive review. Gino was glad for his friend, but he also enjoyed my writing. He e-mailed me asking what else I had done. I told him I had published two stories in Italy in a now out-of-print anthology titled Uomini e Vizi. Gino got a copy, enjoyed my stories, and showed the book to his own publisher. Gino wrote me recently to say his publisher had acquired the rights to Uomini e Vizi and was bringing out a new edition.

I fear that my advice may prove more anecdotal than systematic. Still, I hope that some writers who are struggling to gain an audience for their work will find it helpful. Struggling writers need help.

I need help. Got any?

Copyright © 2000 Gregory Farnum All Rights Reserved

Gregory's novel The Event is available in paperback at www.domhanbooks.com; the Rocket e-book version is online at www.barnesandnoble.com; or order from your local bookstore, ISBN 1583455531.

comment? discuss this article on our discussion board