It’s right up there with eating liver and onions on purpose. I’m not suggesting this goal for the fun of it. I’ve actually hit it a few times. But why on earth would I do that to myself?

Because Publishing Requires Resilience

Most of the time, rejections have nothing to do with the author. Think about it. Most of the things you say no to in your real life have nothing to do with the person asking. You say no because you don’t have time, you don’t want to go, you don’t need what they’re selling, and on and on.

Publication is a long game. Getting good at rejection is a big part of that. I’ve known some brilliant writers whose egos couldn’t handle a no. And it’s a real shame because if they’d have stuck it out, I’m sure they’d have published a lot of great stuff.

Just to show you how arbitrary it can be, here are a few reasons why magazines reject pieces:

  • The magazine was full by the time they got to your piece and the editors bulk rejected everything left in the queue.
  • You didn’t do your research and your piece was a terrible fit for the magazine.
  • You did do your research and it still wasn’t a good fit for the magazine.
  • They say they take submissions, but they never actually read any of them, and instead solicit pieces from writers they know. cough, cough The New Yorker

Will 100 Rejections Per Year Fix Any Of This?

It will not fix the million reasons lit mags reject work. What it will fix is your ability to weather the seas of rejection. Here, you’ve set up a goal paradox, where either way you win. And there’s something about that that works.

I don’t say any of this to discourage you from ever submitting your work. Hardly. I say it so you don’t feel obligated to take a rejection personally, or think it says something about you as a writer. It doesn’t.

So. Submit Work and Track Your Submissions

Tracking submissions helps you with submission etiquette. Most magazines allow simultaneous submissions, meaning you can submit your piece to several magazines at the same time. A few holdouts still request exclusive submissions.

Back in the snail mail days, you would photo copy your submission, mail it to the magazine with a self addressed stamped envelope so they could mail the outcome back. In that system, it made sense to send pieces one at a time.

Because when one magazine accepts your work for publication, it’s your job to then inform everyone else you’ve submitted to, and withdraw your piece from their consideration. Nowadays, most of that is handled quickly online. No donkey cart full of snail mail required.

Tracking where you’ve sent a piece is vital. Since I’ve been tracking submissions for at least a thousand years, I made a template that you can use for free. No, these aren’t real magazines or story titles, but how fun would it be if they were?

You’ll track the story title, the magazine you sent it to, when you submitted the work, how you submitted, the contact info in case it was an email (which is rare, so often I use that field for general notes), the outcome: accepted, rejected, or withdrawn, and the submission fee.

This helps you remember who to contact and how, and how much you’ve spent on a submission fees. The average cost is about $3.00, but there are still a lot of magazines that let you submit for free or for reduced fees based on identity, ability, or student status.

You’ve learned how to format your writing for submissions, how to find magazines to submit to, how to write your author bio, and now how to track the submissions. All that’s left is getting out there and doing it.