Editor Interview: Janna Marlies Maron on nonfiction, art, and publishing Under The Gum Tree

Sometimes I envy fiction writers and poets their riches in the literary journal jungle – the vast majority of journals (print and online) publish only, or mostly, fiction and poetry. Of those that do publish creative nonfiction, there is usually a low ratio of nonfiction to fiction/poetry. Until recently too, there were few journals that published only creative nonfiction. That's changing, and to my mind, one of the loveliest newer nonfiction-only entrants is Under The Gum Tree, which also features art alongside the prose, in both a print and digital format.

I am so excited to have my narrative essay, "Down at the Diner," included in UTGT's January 2014 issue. I'd admired the writing in the issues I'd already read (they've published 10 thus far); I was impressed by what a few of their published writers had said about the care shown by UTGT's editorial and production staff; and – not a small reason—I still love a printed product! I was also impressed by the exquisite art and visual design. So I asked publisher and editor Janna Marlies Maron if she would answer my questions about how she and her team make it shine. She not only said yes, but offered to gift a one-year digital subscription to one of my blog readers (see note at end).

Q.  As a nonfiction writer, I'm thrilled when a journal dedicates itself to nonfiction prose. And to have CNF featured alongside beautiful art is a special treat. What made you decide to focus the journal exclusively on these two forms of expression?

A. As a writer, my own work is in the creative nonfiction genre, so I’m partial. I also have a strong belief in the power of personal storytelling, and the “me too” experience that happens when writers share stories with an audience. There is something about the courage it takes to be vulnerable that creates a special and authentic connection between a storytellers and their audience.

In addition to my philosophy on personal storytelling, my professional background is in magazine publishing. So when I decided to start a literary magazine, one thing I knew from the outset is that it would be full-color and glossy in print, which is not something you usually see from literary journals. The decision to include art was largely based on that – if I was going to produce a full-color, glossy magazine, I wanted to make the most of that medium.

In my former role as a magazine editor, I longed to give a lot of space to photography, because full-page and full-spread photos are so stunning in print. But, when you work for a magazine driven by ad sales, you often have to make hard decisions about editorial space. So right away I knew I wanted to include a photo essay in every issue and that I would give as much room to it as I wanted!

We started including visual art sort of by accident. The art in the first several issues was all photography. Natana Prudhomme (who designed the logo and layout template and launched the magazine with me back in August 2011) is a painter, and I wanted to feature her work, which we did in the October 2012 issue, also our 1-year anniversary issue. Since then we have been featuring both photography and visual artists in each issue.

Q.  The animal artwork on the cover, the inside opening pages and ending pages, by Jane Garret Ryder is stunning – bold colors in a sea of stark white. And the arresting black-and-white photo essay in the center of the journal by Stephen Sheffield, seems to tell a story with words even though no words are present. Please tell me about choosing these artists/works, and how they complement the prose. 

Jane Garrett Ryder's work in UTGT

 

A. I have to credit Aimee Steffen Taber, the magazine’s designer with the artwork in this issue. Aimee is new to the UTGT team, taking over this issue from Natana.  Finding artists and photographers to feature has been one of the biggest challenges because, unlike writers who are often accustomed to submitting work if they want to get published, I don’t think the visual arts world really functions that way. So I have solicited most of the artwork we have published.

 When Aimee took over as artistic director, one thing I wanted to turn over to that position was curating the artwork and I think she’s done a superb job. Jane Garrett Ryder is someone that Aimee has worked with previously. 

The photo essay, however, came to us at the recommendation of Jason Landry, who runs an art gallery in Boston and whose photography is in Under the Gum Tree issue 9. 

Stephen Sheffield's work in UTGT

We aren’t necessarily looking for art that compliments the prose, rather we look for work that creates a visual story of some kind. If anything we are often keeping the visual elements of each issue in step with the seasons, which is partly why black and white photo essays were used in both the October 2013 and January 2014 issues – they convey a more mellow and contemplative mood that we often associate with the typical grayer and shorter days of winter.

Q.  I was struck by the diverse pieces in the January issue; such different, distinct voices, and yet it seemed this way to me, all were addressing some aspect of loss. I wonder if that was intentional or happened organically?

A. I love that you find diversity in this issue. The authors are—unintentionally—all female and, to be frank, as editor and publisher I’m constantly worrying about diversity: are we representing a spectrum of age, ethnicity, and gender?  But then the stories often speak for themselves, because I see diversity in experience even among writers who are the same gender or ethnicity.

We read and make decisions to accept or decline blindly. So to answer your question, it happens mostly organically. I say mostly only because there are times where, for example, we have accepted more than one piece about, say, dealing with mental illness, and we make the editorial decision to not publish both pieces in the same issue. The goal with those kinds of decisions is to create that diverse reading experience that you’re describing. 

Q.  As a writer and reader who grew up on print, I am in love with the slick, thick paper stock, the heft, the physicality of UTGT, the way the pages, weight, and texture all contribute to the reading experience (and how great my piece looks in it!). Since you also present the journal in digital form, what keeps you publishing the print edition (and oh, please don't ever stop!)? 

A. It’s interesting you ask about the print version because when I launched UTGT I thought for sure people would subscribe to the digital since it’s so much less costly (digital subscriptions are $2/mo, whereas print subscriptions are $7/mo). But I have found the opposite to be true–people love the print, and I think it has to do with the quality of our printing. We are, I hope, unlike many literary journals in that we do a full-color, glossy magazine–it’s really more like a coffee table book than a magazine.

What keeps me publishing print editions? Technology. Really, the only reason I publish in print is that there are tools allowing me to do it. I use a print-on-demand option, so the print edition is only printed for subscribers or when someone purchases an individual hard copy. I wouldn’t be able to do it otherwise.

Q.  Aside from the traditionally referenced recommendations about reading the journal before submitting and sending only your best, most polished work, have you any submission advice for writers that may be unique to a CNF-only journal?

A. First and foremost, follow submission guidelines to a T! We read blind, and say explicitly in our guidelines that submissions with any identifying information will be automatically declined, and I can’t tell you how many submissions we get with the author’s info right there in the text.

Beyond the logistical aspects of submitting, I believe that CNF is different from other genres in that there’s a personal impetus for the writer to share this particular story. We tell true stories to connect with others through shared experience and to help each other learn and grow. And we look for stories where that comes through in a subtle and skillfully crafted way. We don’t want to be hit over the head with a moral or a lesson learned, but we do want to know why it’s important that the author share this story with the world, and how that sharing will benefit the reader–even if it is in a very small way.

Note:  To win a one-year digital subscription to Under the Gum Tree, please leave a comment here on this post by midnight on Sunday, February 9 (and be sure we have a way to contact you). The winner will be announced here the next day.

Also:  If you are headed to the AWP conference in Seattle, stop by table #U15 and say hi to the UTGT folks!

Editor Q & A: Suzannah Windsor, of Compose, on Starting the Journal, Submissions, and Full Plates

Over the past six months, I've been getting a new view, from the other side of the desk, as creative nonfiction editor for the new online journal Compose. We're now in the middle of reading, selecting, and editing material for the Fall 2013 issue (the journal's second).  Founder and editor-in-chief Suzannah Windsor (you may know her as founder of the group blog Write It Sideways), took a few minutes to talk to me about her journal start-up experience and plans.

Lisa Romeo:  To date, about fours months into the process of inviting submissions for future issues, what has surprised you the most -- pleasantly or not -- from the editor's seat?

Suzannah Windsor: I have to say I was surprised by the number of submissions we received in the first month, because I assumed things would be a bit quiet in the beginning. I've also been pleasantly surprised at the quality of the submissions; the majority are polished and professional, even if not quite right for us. While we've received some submissions from newer writers, many are MFA graduates with several publications already under their belts. Others have collections of short stories or poetry forthcoming or published by small presses. It's lovely that we're getting a combination of new writers, emerging writers, and established writers all at once, and it's encouraging that they're interested in working with us, in particular.

LR: What has the experience been like for you in setting up the journal, establishing submission guidelines, creating the editors' roles, and more or less mothering the whole enterprise into existence?

SW: It's been a whole lot of work and plenty of trial-and-error to get where we are today. Many of the problems or inefficiencies we've faced have been things that couldn't really have been anticipated until they happened, so we've had to think on our feet. The biggest challenge has been just getting everything in place and running smoothly. There's a big difference between starting a literary journal and building a successful literary journal, and that's both an exciting challenge and an incredibly daunting task. Even when I think I've gotten ahead of my to-do list, there's always plenty more I could be doing.

LR:  If I'm not mistaken, Compose has editors who live on three different continents. Was that your intention, to infuse the editorial decision-making process with an international world view, or just coincidence?

SW: At the moment, we're divided between the United States and Australia, but if you count our home countries, we range from the US to Canada, Australia, Cuba and Dominican Republic. It wasn't at all intentional, but I do think an international perspective is an advantage. Because we're an online publication and our readers are from all over the world, we want to be able to provide them with a culturally diverse reading experience.

LR:  Surely with your work on Write it Sideways, and your own personal creative writing, as well as a busy family life, you had a lot on your agenda already. So what was it about the idea of an online literary journal that spurred you into action? 

SW: I'll admit—with four children (including toddler twins)—I am committed-to-the-max at the moment. But, I'm also aware that in a few years all of my children will be in school and I'll suddenly have a lot more time to commit to my work. Between now and then, I'd like to build up my writing and editing experience as much as possible. Compose has been a good step toward gaining that experience, but it's also something I've wanted to do for a long time because of my love for reading and writing short fiction. The journal is both good experience and a passion project.

LR: Is there anything you are planning or hoping that Compose can do that other online literary journals are not doing?

SW: I hope we'll be known for featuring established voices alongside emerging ones, because I know from experience how exciting it is to see your work published in the same issue as a writer you admire. It can give a struggling writer a real confidence boost. Aside from that, I hope that we can consistently publish quality work and simply be known as a great read. Whereas some journals are only read by the writers who submit to them, I want us to reach a much wider audience. 

LR: Can you give my readers who are writers any submission tips either for Compose in particular, or for online journals in general (or both)?

SW: When someone submits something that is obviously not a good fit for Compose, I have a good idea that they haven't done their homework. First, always read the submission guidelines thoroughly. Most journals have similar guidelines, but some prefer to have a cover letter with a short bio included, some don't accept simultaneous submissions, and some even want a statement about why you believe your work fits their vision. 

Second, read at least a few pieces from the journal to get a good feel for what they publish. A piece that's perfect for The Missouri Review most likely won't be right for Caketrain. Each publication has its own aesthetic, so take note of genre, style, tone and length.

Third, don't submit until you're sure the piece is ready. We've had several pieces withdrawn shortly after submission, with the writers saying they need to make some changes. Not only does this indicate to us that the writer submitted too soon, it's also a bit of a hassle from the editors' side if they've already started to read and consider the piece. Let your work sit for a week or two after you think it's done, and you'll probably find it could still be improved.

LR: Here's something writers wonder about and debate. When you see that a writer has sent a simultaneous submission, does that make you read it and respond quickly so that you don't chance losing a great piece; or does a simultaneous submission make you think it may be out at a large number of other journals, and there's a good chance it will be withdrawn, so it falls to the bottom of your list?

SW: I really don't think it makes a difference either way unless I think the piece is something we'd really hate to lose. I don't read submissions in full until the senior editors are ready to accept something, but I do get a sneak peek at everything when I assign pieces to editors for reading. So, if I were to see something that captivated me enough in the opening lines and compelled me to read the entire piece right away, I'd probably get the editors to read and vote on it right away. But, I would do the same whether the piece was explicitly labeled as being a simultaneous submission or not. Unless a journal's guidelines state no simultaneous submissions, I think we all expect them nowadays.

LR: There's been some push-back lately among print journals about the proliferation of online journals, some of which seem little more than an individual collecting submitted poems, stories and essays, and putting them up on a blogging platform with little editorial development and scant readership, amounting to a publication credit line on a resume or CV that's hardly more credible than a personal blog or amateur site. Thoughts?

SW: I completely agree. There are thousands of these sites, many of which I assume are read only by the people published in them. Let me say that our process bears no resemblance to these sites, and neither does our product. I often hear from our readers how much they're enjoying our first issue, which means we're already reaching and connecting with people. When a submission comes our way, it receives multiple reads and opinions, and almost every long-form piece we've accepted goes through at least one careful revision with a senior editor. 

Writer Eva Langston, a contributor to our Spring 2013 issue, has said “The editors encouraged and supported me through the process [of editing my story]. I was amazed they put so much time and energy into my dinky two-page story. And yet, I was glad for it. They had me change 1% of my piece, but it made the story 100% better.” 

Still, I hope people don't confuse these amateur sites with some of the longer-standing online journals that publish excellent work but are simple (and perhaps dated) in their design. On the other hand, there are plenty of good-looking sites that publish unpolished work. Design is nice, but content has to be the end focus.

LR: You decided from the start to include the three major genres – fiction, poetry, nonfiction – as well as artwork, feature articles, interviews and book excerpts. Some journals start out with more limited offerings. What made you want to present the full spectrum right from the start, and in retrospect was that a difficult way to begin?

SW: Yes, it was ambitious, but I figured—why tiptoe our way in? If the perfect editors hadn't presented themselves in each genre, I might've just stuck with poetry and fiction, but things have worked out really well in that respect.

LR: What do you hope a reader takes away from each issue of Compose?

SW: If everyone who reads our journal could go away remembering just one piece, and have that piece come back to them again and again—a particular line, an image, a conflict—then mission accomplished. Many of the pieces from our first issue have had that effect on me, changing my life in some small way. Also, because the majority of our audience are writers as well as readers, I hope they'll come away from reading Compose with a renewed desire to write.

You can read another interview with Suzannah at Review Review. The submissions guidelines for Compose are here.

Interview: Verna Dreisbach, anthology editor & agent

I've loved horses and writing since I can remember liking anything. As a young child, I wrote about everything and read about and pined for horses before getting my first horse at 14. Soon I was submitting work to equine publications and Horse of Course magazine gave me my first clip. I went on to support myself for several years post-college as a freelancer for equestrian media. Then, about 20 years ago, I stopped -- riding and writing about horses. I had other things to write about and no longer had the time or budget for riding. But more recently I began to think about what horses have meant to me beyond the pleasures of the saddle, and a series of essays emerged, one of which, "It Always Happens One Summer," is included in Why We Ride: Women Writers on the Horses in Their Lives. The editor of that book, Verna Dreisbach, is also a literary agent, and of course she's a rider and horse owner, too. She recently agreed to answer some of my questions.

LR. You are a busy literary agent, and also a graduate student, mother and horse owner. With all that on your plate, why this collection, and why now?

VD: Surprisingly, the opportunity came to me. I attended the Willamette Writers Conference a few years ago where I met editor Krista Lyons from Seal Press. After talking literary agent/editor business stuff, we started talking freely. I talked about my love of horses and how, because of horses, I found my own passion for writing. Little did I know that Krista was looking for an editor for an anthology about women and horses (later to become Why We Ride). By the end of our conversation, we were both jumping up and down because I had a dream opportunity (anything to do with horses) and she had an editor to the anthology.

LR: You were able to secure a foreword from Jane Smiley – quite a coup. How did that come about?

VD: I met Jane Smiley at the East of Eden Writers Conference a few years ago. I asked her if she’d be interested in participating in a written interview for a newsletter for the young writers organization I founded and we started a correspondence then. Since we both obviously have a love of horses, it was just a simple question and she happily agreed to write the foreword. I am so grateful to her and I have no doubt that part of the success of the book has to do with her contribution.

LR: Did any of the contributor pieces surprise you? Make you cry?

VD: I’m a softie for those father/daughter stories. I felt the loss and cried over "Owning Clydes" (Kate St. Vincent Vogl), felt the pain in "Getting Back on the Horse" (Kara Gall), and felt the jealousy at the fun Michele Scott and her dad had in her story "The Billy Dal Gang."

LR: What can you tell us about the selection process?

VD: I waited until I had the majority of the stories in hand before reading them. I wanted to keep the experience all within a short period of time so that I could get the full feel for the momentum and diversity of the book – the same way a reader would. I wanted to make sure that each story was unique.

I had innumerable “first horse” stories that didn’t go much deeper than that. For instance, I knew when I came upon Dee Ambrose Stahl’s story, "Painted Christmas Dreams," that this was the "first horse" story I wanted to include in the anthology. Not only was this her first horse, but she didn’t get her first horse until later in life and it was her husband of many years who finally helped make her dream come true. This is an example of where the horse becomes much more than a horse and becomes an integral part of our lives and the lives of the people around us. I stayed on task with my goal but found that near the end, I had to seek out a few stories that were different enough from the others, leading to the inclusion of Jacqueline Winspear’s story, "It’s All in the T – or Perhaps the D" and I’m fortunate to have her contribution in this book as well.

LR: Some writers think that editing a collection is a relatively easy venture. I know it’s not. Can you break it down a little?

VD: If you’re only choosing stories and sticking them together in a book, then sure, that’s easy. I doubt it will bring much success or good reviews, so I’d advise against it. An editor’s job is time consuming. I had to make sure the stories I chose were diverse and unique enough for an entire collection, one that would keep the reader entertained and not feeling as if they’ve read the same story over and over again, 27 times.

There were some contributors who needed minimal editorial advice and some that needed more. I enjoyed the diversity of writers as well as the diversity of stories. I did have two people who refused to make any changes to their stories and subsequently, they were not included. I didn’t feel that they had gone deep enough into their story, the connection between writer-life-horse to make a story that would make enough of an impact on the reader. We can all enjoy our horses, but I was looking for the stories about the horses that helped shape us as women and the way we looked at the people and the world around us.

As you can imagine, my job as an editor is far easier working with writers who are willing to revise and edit their pieces. And, my job as an editor is to work with the writer so that they feel they’ve maintained the scope, purpose and voice of the story intact throughout the revision process, if it’s a major revision.

LR: As a physical object, how do you feel about the finished product? I notice it’s slightly smaller sized than many trade soft covers, includes photos of the writers with their horses, and makes generous use of white space.

VD: I’m very happy with the finished product. I actually like the size, somewhat unique. It also follows the same pattern as the other books in the Seal series, Woman’s Best Friend and Cat Women. Inside, the reader gets the sense that they are reading through either a diary or scrap book, the way the photos are positioned within the text and with the photo corner tabs (also on the cover). I’m very glad that photos of the writers with their horses were included!

LR: What did you enjoy the most about bringing this book to fruition?

VD: The best part was meeting (eventually I hope in person) all of the contributors from the book. I feel like I have 26 new girlfriends that I hope to keep in touch with over the years. I’m thinking about an annual or semi-annual riding trip with all of them. What a great way to stay in touch and keep up our horse riding/writing skills!

LR: Anything you hope not to go through again?

VD: There were a couple of crazy stories - one woman wrote about how she smacked her horse on a regular basis with her riding crop to get it to mind her. I really wonder what she was thinking submitting her story to this anthology? The collection is supposed to be inspirational stories about women and their horses and the only thing I was inspired to do was to call animal control.

LR: I understand you have some readings and other events lined up.

VD: Yes! A number of contributors will be reading at Elliott Bay Book Company in Seattle, WA, on June 5th at 4:00 pm and then the following day, June 6th, in Portland, OR, at Powell’s Books at 7:30 pm. I’m looking forward to it.

LR: Many people who read this blog will want to know more about what kinds of books/authors you are on the lookout for as an agent.

VD: As an agent, I’m looking for something unique and well written. Unfortunately, the majority of submissions are from writers who have not taken the time to perfect their manuscript or hone their craft. I’m also looking for professionals – those who view this industry like any other profession and take it seriously and act accordingly. Also, many writers who query agents are just plain crazy or rude. We get really excited when we see quality writing and a sane person all at one time! Other than that, I’m looking for both fiction and non-fiction authors, especially books with a political, economic or social context.

LR: Do you have another book project of your own in progress?

VD: I would love to do another anthology and I’m not all that particular as to the subject matter. I enjoy working with writers, helping them deepen their stories to share their memories in a way that moves readers. I’m finishing my MA degree this year and I don’t have as much time to write what I’d like. Once I’m done with my degree, I’ll have more freedom, less time constraints to write more – something that’s not necessarily “assigned”.

Note: I am giving away a copy of Why We Ride. If you'd like to enter the random drawing, post a comment here by midnight, Sunday, June 13. Be sure there is a way for me to contact you via email to obtain your U.S. postal address.

Interview with Grace Bauer, Guest Editor of Prairie Schooner's new Baby Boomer Issue

Literary journals often dedicate single issues to major themes – grief, transformation, technology's effect on humanity, birth, hunger, so many others. Prairie Schooner is a terrific read no matter what, but their Fall 2009 Baby Boomer issue especially captured my attention. I was lucky enough to get a sneak peek and to ask guest editor Grace Bauer some questions. [Note: a Prairie Schooner subscription give-away is underway – see note at end of post.]

Lisa Romeo. How did you prepare for the role of guest editor?

Grace Bauer. I was very excited and also somewhat nervous about taking on the task of editing this special issue of Prairie Schooner. I had served as Acting Editor seven years ago when Hilda Raz (the Editor-in-Chief) had a semester’s leave, but then I just put finishing touches on an issue that was pretty much together. This time I was, by choice, taking on much more control – and responsibility. Many years ago, I worked on a short-lived little magazine called Pontchartrain Review in New Orleans, and have also co-edited an anthology, so I wasn’t completely lacking in experience. I’ve been reading literary journals for a long time -- but still, being at the helm of The Schooner was a little daunting.

The first (and probably smartest) thing I did was to sit in with Hilda as she put together an earlier issue. Hilda and I have worked together on our own books -- she was instrumental in helping edit my last collection, Retreats & Recognitions -- so I had some idea of how her editorial mind worked, but the journal seemed like a different kind of creature, and I wanted to see how she tamed it.

Over the course of an entire afternoon, I observed how she made (and often re-adjusted) her choices for ordering the poems, stories, essays, and reviews with an eye toward achieving some balance while making connections and creating interesting segues from one piece to the next. I asked a lot of questions. I had confidence in my ability to recognize good work when I saw it, but I am notoriously “technically challenged” and had a lot to learn about some of the “nuts and bolts” aspects regarding the journal’s formatting template, etc. I knew I had a capable managing editor, James Engelhardt, to rely on for much of that (and I did so). I asked more questions.

And then, not having much choice, I just got into it!

LR. Writers who submit to journals would love to know more about how the editorial mix comes together, particularly for a themed issue. Can you talk about the kinds of decisions you made, where you agonized, etc.? Did you get any inappropriate material?? Did you solicit specific writers, and if so, did you then have to turn down any piece that came about from those requests?

GB. As I discuss a bit in my Introductory essay, the work in The Boomer issue came to me in three basic ways: 1) solicitation 2) the back files of already accepted work at the journal, which I combed through, looking for anything that might fit the boomer theme, and 3) announcements we handed out at the AWP Conference.

Part of my challenge was time. I was technically only serving as guest editor for one semester – and doing it while teaching and keeping up with other obligations. I got a bit of a head start towards the end of the Fall 2008 semester (soliciting the essay from Dorothy Barresi early on, because I knew it would take her some time to write it) but for the most part, I started working on the issue in January, and had to have it to the printers by April. This did not allow for a “general call” or to advertise a special issue.

I solicited from people I knew, and from total strangers whose work I knew – mostly by email. Many responded enthusiastically and promptly sent work my way; some said they’d send me work, but never did. Some responded that they had no available work that seemed relevant; some never responded at all – whether because they were too busy or uninterested or never got the email, I don’t know. Some people told their friends, who also sent work, or recommended people for me to contact, which I usually did. The Schooner staff at the AWP Bookfair handed out flyers, and I found myself walking up to people and saying “hi, were you by any chance born between 1946 and 1964? And have you written about it?” -- which resulted in a flurry of post-conference submissions.

I was, from the get-go, more anxious about the prose than the poetry. I knew that, because of length, I would have to choose fewer pieces, so I was prepared to agonize over that, but both Marianne Boruch’s hitch-hiking piece (an excerpt from a longer memoir) and Marly Swick’s story seemed so perfect for the issue, it was easy to say yes to those – (I did work with both authors on cutting for length) though I then had to say no to other long stories and essays. I was happy to be able to include a few “short short/sudden” fiction pieces – because I’ve always been intrigued by that genre, and it seems to have flourished among boomer aged writers.

With poetry, I had lots to choose from, and once certain choices were made, they influenced other choices. While I expected – and wanted – some recurring themes and motifs, I also wanted variety -- in subject matter, style, tone, perspective, diversity of writers, etc. I wanted some “big name” writers, but was open to including anyone whose work spoke to me. I went out of my way to solicit from formalists as well as experimental writers, and everything in between. I didn’t get much that I would call “inappropriate,” since I was thinking “boomer” in the largest possible sense.

I didn’t want an entire issue full of work that looked back on “the good (or bad) old days” -- though I counted on getting some of that (and did). As things were coming together, I tried to follow Hilda’s lead in terms of making connections and interesting segues, which meant I sometimes turned down work I thought was very good – and relevant to the issue – but maybe too much like something I’d already accepted. Or, conversely, I might accept something because I thought it would work well with/speak to -- or against -- another piece I’d already taken.

It’s little comfort, I know, but I think that’s something all of us need to keep in mind as writers – getting rejected doesn’t necessarily mean the rejected work isn’t good or that the editor didn’t like it. So many other factors might influence a decision – especially, I think, when it comes to theme issues. In the end, I had to reject work I liked quite a bit – including work I had solicited from people (I tried to be clear when I did so that I wasn’t making any promises). A journal is finite, and I simply ran out of pages.

LR. The issue wrestles with the notion of nostalgia. Some pieces look backward, but they resist sentimentality. Even your intro celebrates the boomer generation's achievements but also points out its excesses. When writing a piece that looks back over a life or an event, what strategies can help avoid over the top sentimentality?

GB. Wallace Stevens famously said that a poem must resist the intelligence almost successfully. Note the modifier. Also the one in your question: over the top sentimentality.

Because there is a good bit of work in this issue that “looks back,” there is a certain amount of nostalgia, and some of that may risk sentimentality, but hopefully resists it almost successfully. I think any adult who can look back at the life they’ve lived and not feel the occasional pang of nostalgia for things that are gone – youth, love, time, people, places, brain cells or whatever – has not faced up to their own mortality.

Over the top sentimentality can certainly make for bad writing because it’s too easy. It may mean the writer hasn’t looked closely enough, felt or thought deeply enough, or – even more likely – struggled enough with the language to really get it right. On the other hand, I sometimes read work that seems so determined to not be sentimental that it’s devoid of any human emotion, or even consciousness. While over the top sentimentality may make me cringe, its polar (as in frigid) opposite doesn’t speak to me either.

As for strategies for staying on the right side of that fine line – attention, vigilance, a bullshit detector in good working order?

Note from Lisa: Prairie Schooner editors would like to give away a one-year (four issue) subscription to their excellent journal. Simply leave a comment on this post before midnight on October 17. If you like, share a boomer memory, an experience submitting to or editing a literary journal, or a response to something discussed here. Please include a way for us to contact you.

Friday Fridge Clean-Out

An extra-overstuffed fridge full of links and love this week. Hope you find something of interest.

► Those of you who write about the experience of parenting (this includes father-types, too), and would like a byline in the smart, literate magazine Brain, Child, will be interested in this podcast interview with the editors.

► It's not every day you get to congratulate an old grade school friend on an Oscar nomination, but I get to do it today: Kudos to Ellen Kuras for her Oscar nod for best documentary feature.

► I don't know about the whole join up pitch at the end, but I kind of like the stop-whining-and-work-harder tone and grit of the No Recession For Me guy.

► Speaking of the economic collapse, I've been checking in at Recessionwire, and especially liking Love in the Time of Layoffs, which doesn't surprise me because I admire just about everything Deborah Siegel writes over at Girl With Pen.

► I'm not big on New Year's Resolutions, and good thing, because by now, I would have broken them all. But I like what this guy says about picking three words to act as motivators throughout the year. Nope, don't have it narrowed down to three yet. Working. On. It.

► Boy, was I sad to see Publisher's Weekly editor-in-chief Sara Nelson shown the door last week in a sweeping reorganization. She's been gracious in her comments ever since (no surprise), but it's still disturbing to see her bewildered hurt and to be reminded of her clear and unabashed devotion to books and writers, in this piece.

► I'm not going to the AWP Conference in Chicago next week, so why why why did I click over and study the crammed schedule, filled with dozens of seminars and presentations? If it was a half-baked attempt to assure myself that I wouldn't be missing much, well, like all of my baking efforts, it failed miserably.Then I started getting the emails and postcards and Tweets and Facebook alerts about the evening get-togethers, from fellow MFA alumni, far-off writers friends, and journals I adore. Very hard not to start searching flights. Not so hard when I look at the checkbook. Meanwhile, I've recruited a few intrepid writer pals who are Windy City-bound to provide a guest post or two.

► Whoa! How did I never stumble over this – an incisive blog about the inner workings at the New York Times.

Have a great weekend!