Blog Archives

In the Flesh? In the Flesh

Dear readers and patrons of our little magazine,

I am regretfully announcing our decision to definitely close submissions for Yorick Magazine. This was not an easy choice to make. This was not a digestible idea at first. This was not how we pictured Yorick at the end of 2013.

But there should be no tears but smiles at the finish of this road. Admire yourselves for having the bravery to submit your work and extend your mind to ours. When the magazine began, I had no expectations that there would be such a community to follow this jester of an experiment. I have more faith in the online literary world than I ever had and ever knew. Thank you.

Thanks also to Lauren Wainwright for your layout, design, and graphic productions for this magazine, as well as being a great manager to our staff. You were a fantastic help and a backbone for Yorick.

Thanks to Olivia Errico, Dean Terrell, Sam Levenberg, and Ed Jameson for your amazing work respectively editing, “social-mediating,” writing content for Yorick, and producing The Skullcast. You were a bliss to work with.

Thanks to Jeremiah Walton for your indelible efforts to promote and support Yorick. Cheers!

Thanks to the other literary publications that associated with Yorick, especially The Gap-Toothed Madness, for your ability to share the literary space we tread online.

And, so importantly, thanks to Cody Steinhauer for the wonderful idea. You didn’t know it at the time, but your drunken plans for a magazine brought all these people together.

The website will stay up as long as WordPress exists. The online issues, too, will remain as long as Issuu.com exists. When we find the funding, print issues of the Summer and Fall 2013 issue will be sent out to contributors.

It was a pleasure serving you all.

Best,
Alex Grover

Busking Poetry (This Isn’t as Wonderful as You Think)

by Jeremiah Walton, Guest Writer

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Jeremiah Walton, Poetry Busker

Busking is street performing in hopes of obtaining tips from passing pedestrians. A vast array of musicians, poets, painters, jugglers, tarot card readers, and other acts compose the majority of the busking community. The performers are generally passionate, taking their work to the streets in hopes of snaring passing ears. This is a living for some.

Before reading this article, please note: no one obtains fame through busking. The minuscule amount who have, or will, are rarities of circumstance. Making connections and socializing with others will help you build a career. Busking won’t.

I busk to make an income while traveling. I perform poetry and distribute books for Nostrovia! Poetry, W.I.S.H. Publishing, and Underground Books. I set up a cup a couple feet away from me so it invites others to throw money in, but is close enough for me to prevent thievery. I’ll usually have a cardboard sign with suggested donations for the books.

In the right communities, with the right people, it can bring in a substantial income. Other days, my cup remains empty and passers tell me to get a real job. You will deal with this shit regularly. People peoplin’.

Slam poems, or generally accessible poems, are better received. Your fleeting goal is to attract an audience to throw money into a little cup at your feet, not to perform the Howl of this generation. It’s a business, a really fun and horrible job, especially when this is how you are making a living.

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The Art of Busking

Performing in public streets is vastly different from performing at open mics or slams. Rather than having an audience ready to go, you have to fish for one. Your ocean is of concrete and full of organisms that do not care what you have to say. And, unless you’re busking for fun, you’re not just fishing for people, but for what’s in their wallets (ah, that infectious dollar bill giving Us fishes reason for gills).

In Buffalo, NY, I busked out front of a cafe in Elmwood. One of my poems caught the attention of a man, and, for a couple poems, I had an audience of one. Before leaving, he dropped $20 in the cup and bought a book. In 3 hours, I had a couple dollars short of $60. That’s not bad.

The next day I made ten dollars in two hours, and had to get creative (a euphemism for selling fake flowers to couples).

Location and time are essential. The first day, I was up at 8 a.m., when the cafe was busiest, and had a large audience passing. The line would extend right out of the cafe to where I had posted up at some points. I had people trapped as my audience (cross walks near stop lights work for this to).

The second day, I arrived at 2 p.m.. The cafe was closing, and pedestrian traffic had slowed.

Location also brings up the concept of territory. Buskers habitually have particular locations they prefer. Harvard Square in Boston is plagued by buskers, and many of them do this every day for a living. That gives them reason to be territorial; it’s how they eat, buy their smokes, and consume other pleasures and conveniences.

The best thing to do is be respectful. Don’t post up right next to the man trying to sell jewelry. He’s trying to make a buck too, and you’re stealing attention from his work. There’s a musician on the corner with the most traffic, and a crosswalk and stoplight. Don’t go to the other side of the crosswalk and start screaming poems. The audibility of your whining and his whining will mesh into this gooey noise of empty cups.

Now, onto confidence. Confidence is key. Know your poems. They don’t necessarily have to be memorized, but make eye contact with your audience, and those passing by. Direct your poem at them.

Be loud, be the applicant (poet) of force (poem) upon external objects (people) to cause movement (soul).

Also, if no one is gathering around (per usual), and no one is paying attention (per usual), directly ask people, “Hey! Want to hear a poem?” This direct interaction can either have them brush you off, or have them stay, listen, and potentially donate or attract others’ curiosity. You have nothing to lose except opportunity.

Practice consistently. You will fuck up, as you’re a human. Read at home, read to your friends, read to the mirror, and then read to the streets.

Busking will help with your confidence and performance at open mics and slams, and vice versa. It’ll help you grow, realize the beautiful insignificant you are, and humble you.

Or it’ll boost your ego tenfold and you’ll be a dick.

BIO:  Jeremiah Walton is a traveling poet going across the United States performing at slams and open mics.  He’s 18, was raised in N.H., and manager of Nostrovia! Poetry, W.I.S.H. Publishing, The Traveling Poet, and an editor at UndergroundBooks.  Jeremiah blogs at Gatsby’s Abandoned Children, where most of his chapbooks can be read free.  Jeremiah promotes poetry to the youth, hoping to broaden the community, and promote creating for Self.

Beards, Zombies, SNES, and David Bowie: The Mind of Jayme Karales

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Disorderly, by Jayme Karales. Before Sunrise Press 2013.

Hello viewers! Since we’re nearing the holidays (a temporary asylum from the plague of day jobs), I thought it was high time to have another post. Today you’re in for a nasty good treat, since Yorick Magazine interviewed Jayme Karales, a young and horrorshow author and host of Shootin’ it with Jayme and Kenney.  I proverbially sat down with him to discuss the existential benefits of writing as well as his debut novel, Disorderly.

1. Tell me about yourself. Jayme Karales is a writer from Boston with a podcast and a cool ass beard. I want to know more!

First off, thank you for recognizing the awesomeness of my facial hair. You’re the first interviewer to do that and I think my beard is very underappreciated. Second, in addition to being a writer and podcaster from Boston, I’m also a cat hoarder, a Tumblr addict, and a passionate hater of all things Wes Anderson.

2. How did you find writing? Or did it find you? Writers always have that story that narrates the triumphs and tribulations of discovering the Golden Fleece of what they want to do for the rest of their lives. What was your quest?

I’ve always been interested in storytelling. If I weren’t a storyteller, I’d probably be a pathological liar. I can remember being 4 years old, sitting in front of one of those old, 30 lb. home-movie camcorders and just rattling off random stories—or telling my mom to write things down on a piece of paper while I drew the crudest fucking Power Ranger drawings you can imagine. So I’ve been interested in writing—in my own way—from the jump.

3. How would you approach a dystopian future that eliminated written forms of communication?

That actually doesn’t sound too bad. I figure I’ll probably square myself away in a cabin in the woods somewhere by the time I’m 50, so I’ll welcome it.

Now, about your stuff:

4. Why did you write Disorderly?

I came across a prompt for a short story anthology that essentially said, ‘write a zombie story that features a protagonist suffering from cancer.’ When I actually got into it, I couldn’t cut it down to 10,000 words so I just kept going and wound up writing my first novel, Disorderly.

When I did get into writing it, the goal became: break the reader’s expectations and deliver something that will push their boundaries. Based off of the reviews, I think I did that.

5. The setting in your work is always heavily emphasized and very real to you. Massachusetts and its communities especially play a part in “Youth” and Disorderly. What drives you to include these locations?

Convenience and character. I know Massachusetts better than I know any other state and I feel like there’s a certain flavor here that you can’t find in, say, Oregon. Go to the right part of Boston and you’ll find a well-dressed Harvard grad standing 10 ft. away from some Dorchester townie calling his buddy a “cawksuckuh.” There is a variety of over-the-top, clashing personalities here and in an unconventional way that’s part of its charm.

6. I absolutely love “SNES” from David Bowie is Dead, your collection of poetry/prosetry/multimedetry. How is fiction different for you than shorter, more lyrical works?

Fiction takes a lot more effort and a lot more care than poetry or prose. Poems are random blurbs that pop into my head. Fiction is a culmination of ideas that I can no longer keep bound to my brain.

7. Are you aware of anticipated obituaries? I typed up “David Bowie is Dead” in glorious Google and found this.

I was not. Now I have something new to aim for.

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Jayme Karales

“Jayme K. is the author of the novel Disorderly, as well as numerous short stories, essays, and poems. His work has been published by UnHollywood, Before Sunrise Press, Underground Books, Miracle E-zine, Nostrovia! Poetry, Slasher Studios, Your Daily Subvert, Moon Project, and Flash Fiction 365. He lives in Boston.”

The Return and the Departure

Dear Lovers of the Aubade who fight to never leave,

We’ve had a slight jumping off since the summertime. Many of you have emailed about when the new issue will be coming out. Many have wondered why we haven’t had as many posts as usual. Many have developed new-found passions for optometry and are pursuing a lucrative career in the medical field. To all of you, I apologize.

Tragedy has hit many members of our staff lately. It has convinced us to grab onto our knees and dig our nails into the skin. Loss begets nothing more than reaching for a glass and having it drop before you can catch it. It’s the unfair it could have been different than this circumstance.

Know that what we’ve seen will make us better for you. What drives us to serve you is the love for art and communication and to make your experience on this lovely, lonely planet the best it can be. While we won’t be in full capacity until 2014, don’t forget about us. We won’t forget about you.

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“Flower” by Abigail Allen

Today marks the publication of Yorick Magazine‘s fifth issue. We have harbored 44 unique writers and 9 artists since we began in 2011, and we are dogged to harbor more. Enjoy this new issue. It’s pretty.

Sincerely yours,
Alex Grover,
Editor-in-Chief,
Yorick Magazine

Regarding Poetry – Part 4: It’s Time to Talk Literature, Ya’ll

by Sam Levenberg, Staff Writer

Hi again!

Sadly, my knowledge about literary magazines is very limited. While I have a few that I can definitely say I enjoy more than others, whether or not they are credited as being “good” almost always eludes me. So, I did a little Google search about the top ranked magazines and found this little article on www.everywritersresource.com, titled “Top 50 Literary Magazines.” Pretty convenient, no?

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Every Writer’s Resource

Anywho, I tell you a little about the top five magazines they listed. (A little side note: I excluded the number 2 ranked mag because it is a college publication, and I want to tell you about the commercial ones instead)

  1. The New Yorker – This is the most well-known literary magazine out there. I mean, if you haven’t heard of The New Yorker, you have to have been living in a cave since the 1920s. From its trademark comics (the caption on the one posted is “Makes you proud to be an American, doesn’t it?”) to the articles on everything from art to politics, to its in-depth literary reviews, I don’t think I need to say much more about this one.
  2. The Atlantic – As with The New Yorker, this is one magazine that is very well established. While it lacks as many defining characteristics as The New Yorker, The Atlantic makes up for it by having a highly diverse article base that makes it transcend being a simple literary magazine, and has made it a valuable critical source.
  3.  Harper’s Magazine – Coming directly from their website’s “About” section: “Harper’s Magazine, the oldest general-interest monthly in America, explores the issues that drive our national conversation, through long-form narrative journalism and essays, and such celebrated features as the iconic Harper’s Index. With its emphasis on fine writing and original thought Harper’s provides readers with a unique perspective on politics, society, the environment, and culture.” I wish I could say it better, but I can’t. Take a look-see through their website and archives, and you’ll understand why.
  4. Tin House – Compared to the other magazines on this list, Tin House is a baby, barely a toddler. Having been founded in 1999 it is just over a decade old, but has proven that even though it is small, it is formidable. If you are looking for good art coupled with interesting articles about the state of the world, take a look at some of the older magazines. If you are looking for good art plain and simple pick up a copy of Tin House.
  5. The Paris Review – Despite being ranked sixth on the list provided by Every Writer’s Resource, it should be noted that The Paris Review is the only mag on this list which is from overseas. The other four are all based out of somewhere on the continental United States. That in and of itself should be enough to show how good of a magazine it is. But it’s when you take a look inside an edition of The Paris Review that you truly understand how significant this is. From its wide range of poetry, to its beautifully written literary reviews, to its presentation of only the best established and up-and-coming writers in the business, The Paris Review doesn’t need to prove that it is one of the best—it simply is.

So that’s everything. If you have some spare time, you should pick up a copy of any of these magazines. Not only will it (hopefully) brighten up your day, but it will most likely expand your mind.

With more affection than I may seem to be showing,

Sam Levenberg
Yorick Magazine

P.S. – If you want to take a look at the full list of “Top 50 Literary Magazines” here is the link: http://www.everywritersresource.com/topliterarymagazines.html

A Much-Needed Submitter-Contributor Appreciation Post

Dear people who cross the digital expanse and pray their submitted work gets in,

You are the champions of the literary world. If you do not view yourself as “equal to” or “greater” than the literary magazines you support, then you are looking at this culture all wrong. What is a magazine without its submitters? What does it really mean to submit?

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Courtesy of The Gap-Toothed Madness, a wonderful presentation of a blurb I wrote

Let’s look at the definitions of “submitting” for a moment:

sub·mit  (sb-mt)

v. sub·mit·tedsub·mit·tingsub·mits

v.tr.

1. To yield or surrender (oneself) to the will or authority of another.

2. To subject to a condition or process.

3. To commit (something) to the consideration or judgment of another.

4. To offer as a proposition or contention: I submit that the terms are entirely unreasonable.

 

(Courtesy of http://www.thefreedictionary.com/Submitters)

If applied to writers, the first definition imagines the submitter as a small kingdom who yields to an empire greater than itself. So, by this definition, writers are lesser than and must abandon themselves and their values for what they perceive as the greater good. Of course, by obeying the empire, these writers can bring glory and fame to their name.

That’s a disgusting perspective to have, but we’ll continue.

The second definition is more appropriate, though it seems to waylay the emotional ability writers have and need to submit their work. It is not just a “condition” or “process.” This definition forgets that it’s a love for the work. It’s a respect for the work. Therefore, it’s a love, respect, and need for the writer.

As the fourth definition doesn’t seem truly applicable, the third definition ascends to be our best bet. Writers committing (prose or poetry or artwork or photography) to the consideration or judgment of a magazine. Consideration seems to have a more positive connotation than judgment. Yet, while this is the most salient definition of “submitting” for the writer to bear in mind, the question for all writers to consider is “Does this magazine have the authority to judge my work?”

I will be the first to say that literary magazines do not and should not carry the pomp they brag of. The word “magazine” comes from the French word magasin, which translates to “storehouse.” Does the word translate to “publication that reaps the benefits of its contributors and is more important than them”? No.

Moreover, a storehouse must be filled with goods to function. Without the goods, there would be no storehouse. However, without a storehouse, the goods cannot be distributed. Nonetheless, I believe the ones who share their goods with the world are the better people at the end of the day.

Do I contradict myself by posting a shameless advertisement of Yorick as the picture in this post? No. It’s my job to shamelessly advertise my magazine. It’s a storehouse for crying out loud. How else are Greek citizens going to know to come here for their oil and fleece skeins?

I’ve talked with several individuals in the immediate literary community who are committed to caring for submitters. Jeremiah Walton, of Nostrovia fame, is continuously working to create projects like The Traveling Poet so that writers have more opportunities to be heard. Brittany Wright and Richard Barnhardt at The Gap-Toothed Madness have created a newsletter for their submitters and contributors detailing new ways to submit work. It’s magazines like these that appreciate the writer.

So, submitters: you are not the worthless creatures you believe yourselves to be. You are not the mercenaries who struggle to make a living by providing service to an emperor. You are the artifacts that the acolytes struggle to collect. Some artifacts are undiscovered, some are found and made public.

Whether admitting it or not, the acolyte, a wretch in torn cloth, dreams only of finding the best.

– Alex

 

Regarding Poetry – Part 3: The Wonderment of Literary Magazines for Children

by Sam Levenberg, Staff Writer

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An array of children’s magazines!

Hello hello hello!

About two weeks ago I was in the barbershop waiting for my turn when I decided to take a look at the magazine rack. Lo and behold, the first thing I picked up was a copy of Highlights, which I used to read a lot when I was younger but haven’t looked at in years. As I flipped through the pages and laughed at all the cheesy jokes, I started to wonder if there were other children’s magazines like Highlights, and if there were any way to submit some of my more “youngish” work to them. So, I did my research and found a few that I thought to be not only promising, but interesting to boot.

Cobblestone and Calliope: These two magazines are both designed for kids between ages of 9 and 14, and are also both (primarily) non-fiction magazines. They each focus on something that has to do with history, but each on a different aspect of history. Cobblestone focuses on American History, and Calliope on World History and Cultures. The interesting thing about both of these magazines, though, is that they not only accept non-fiction pieces, but if someone submits a historical fiction piece, and if it is within the word limit, there is a chance the magazine will publish it as well. So it looks like my only shot of getting into either of these is to bulk up on my history.

Ladybug, Spider, Cricket, and Cicada are all what would probably be known as traditional literary magazines because they focus on stories and art catered towards specific age groups. Oh, I forgot to mention this before, but the magazines (in the order listed) each focus on a different age group – 3 to 6 for Ladybug, 6-9 for Spider, 9-14 for Cricket and 14 and older for Cicada. This means that these magazines are quite literally for kids of any age, which is by and far one of the coolest audience angles I have seen in regards to literary magazines. Also, I have few stories written that are kind of “youngish,” so maybe I’ll send them on over.

Crow Toes Quarterly was one that I heard about quite a bit, but my initial search provided nothing but sweet, sweet air. But, after a little more intense digging I hit paydirt! Focusing on dark humor for kids—which is kind of weird to think about, I know—Crow Toes Quarterly had published stories that fit into the horror and thriller categories (as well as other such kinds of stories). While this might not seem that appealing, I sat down and read an issue and have to say it was quite entertaining. I also sadly found out that it is no longer in publication. Yet, I thought it still necessary to give credence to because what the magazine did was absolutely brilliant. I raise my glass to you, Crow Toes Quarterly, and hope you come back soon!

So, those are the ones I found absolutely intriguing. Also, because I was interested in possibly trying to submit some of my more…“youngish”…works to these magazines, I found the submission guidelines for them (see them HERE! http://www.cricketmag.com/submissions).

So, if you also have some works that you think these magazines might like, shoot ‘em their way, and tell them I sent you. It probably won’t help you very much (most likely not at all), but do it anyways.

Loving all of you always,

Sam Levenberg
Yorick Magazine

Speaking of Genitalia

by Steve Burns, Guest Writer

WARNING: This post is risqué and groovy.

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If Mr. Peanut Had Genitals, by CJ Sorg

Suddenly her bra’s off and the boobs are out. Maybe some fella’s schlong dangles momentarily on-screen. Either way, it’s happened and both parties who are watching this raunchy scene don’t know how to react. Typically, postures shift or someone clears their throat. You’ve been there when wobbly-bits enter the room, and you’ve endured the post-sex cool-down. These are three minutes and forty-five seconds you’d care not to watch (publicly) again. This is film, however.

When a poet uses the words dick, pussy, cunt, or cock at a reading before an already intently listening audience — something else happens. Ears perk up; smiles crack. My experiences at readings have shown me that poets use these suggestive terms to call attention to something larger than the words themselves. I first heard Ian Davisson read his work at Milano’s Pizzeria as part of CA Conrad’s Milano’s Reading Series. Davisson read his poem, “May 4th, 2012,” which says, “ask the right questions/you’ll be my friend forever/it’s a secret/boner in everyone’s/cup of coffee.” Combined with Davisson’s blunt, quivering delivery, folks around me immediately nodded, smirked, or sent consenting murmurs towards the front of the room where he read. I thought: “Ian uses the word boner in a really interesting way.” Sexualized terms can be abrasive, hauntingly absurd, and, at times, quite charming — Davisson’s work revealed this to me.

“May 4th, 2012” comes from a manuscript titled Summa Cum (appropriate, no?) and, in its entirety, is a ruthlessly lonesome, gnawing piece that flows from one shattered line to the next. A broken sexuality and paranoid isolation is the poem’s driving force; the phallus is at its core. Davisson begins his poem in hiding: “there’s a part of sleep/where you forget/it’s wonderful.” Sleep seems to be Davisson’s only solace. Unfortunately Davisson “won’t sleep tonight” because “I is for ian or/I is for issues.” “Ian” and “issues” are practically interchangeable, equally (painfully) alive. “[S]omeone,” says Davisson, “sleeps/inside me/leaves before I wake up.” It’s this someone who’s “a ghost/on [his] back.”

Davisson’s agony is most evident, however, in his sexually charged lines. On a restless night Davisson writes, “held my dick so tight/must have busted/something/lonely/out.” Here “dick” is being abused, exclaiming loneliness; this is not pleasurable. Davisson’s not sure what’s been released; he’s only certain it feels like isolation. Even “lonely” and “out” sit singularly on the page, unaccompanied in the line. “I’m paralyzed,” says Davisson. The issues Davisson faces have likely been assuaged by “Dr. Verdi” in the past, but in “May 4th, 2012” Davisson “can’t make it this week.” It’s safe to assume that Dr. Verdi is a counselor or therapist—“ask the right questions”—yet Davisson’s difficulties are not so confidential. “[I]t’s a secret/boner in everyone’s/cup of coffee,” writes Davisson. A boner, usually a private phenomenon, is poking obtrusively through everyone’s everyday beverage; it’s not a secret because it’s prodding everyone outright. “I love her,” says Davisson, “I’m sorry/there’s no reason for it/but I do/tell my relatives/I’m ok.” These fragmented lines, which illustrate Davisson’s attempts to calm concerned relatives, struggle to remain cohesive on the page. The “boner” renders assurances useless.

Davisson concludes that he “love[s]/knowing the stuff/that eats [him] alive.” After all, were it not for that stuff, we might not have this wonderfully compelling poem.

Check out more of Ian Davisson’s work here.

Steve Burns works and writes for Philly-based APIARY Magazine. He’s currently enrolled in Rutgers-Camden’s MFA program. His poems are weird. Also, he’s pretty tall.  

Regarding Poetry: Part 2 – Getting your Poetry Out into the Wide, Wide, Gloriously Wide World

By Sam Levenberg, Staff Writer

 

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Hermetic Globe, by Durotriges

Hello again out there!

First of all, thanks to everyone who submitted to the Summer 2013 issue of Yorick! Alex and Lauren sent responses to all who submitted, so check your emails if you sent in work. Expect the full issue to be produced by mid-August. Contributors’ copies will be sent out in the coming months.

So in the past I’ve talked about my favorite literary magazines and the pleasure I find in my own and others’ poetry. What ties magazine love and poetry love together, though, is that both exist because people write poetry (including, I hope, some of you!). So, anticipating that someday I’ll read in some literary magazine a cornucopia of good poetry that brings me delight—some such that will be written by you, members of the blogosphere—I have three suggestions on going about submitting and possibly having your poetry accepted.

1)      Know what kind of poetry you write. I think this is the most important part of submitting your poetry, because every magazine is looking for something different. If you write humorous, nonsensical poems and submit them to a magazine that’s looking for deep, emotionally heart-wrenching poems, you’re going to get rejected. So know what kind of poetry you write, and then try to find magazines that publish those kinds of poems. It’ll greatly enhance your chances of getting them published.

2)      If what you’re looking at is a smaller, less well known magazine—like 32 Poems, vox poetica, or Circus Book—then your best bet is to go online and find out when their deadlines are and then directly email the editor. Many times these editors don’t get a whole truckload of submissions, at least compared to bigger magazines like Paris Review, so hearing from someone who is looking to get their poetry out and about is a joy for them. I’ve had two or three email conversations with editors of small magazines, and one thing they always mention is that they love hearing from new poets and reading their poems; they never know what to expect and are often amazed by what they read. So, in short, take initiative and don’t be scared to email an editor.

3)      Compared to smaller literary magazines, hulking magazines like the Paris Review and The New Yorker receive thousands of submissions by their respective deadlines. So, emailing an editor of a magazine like that is impractical because it’s unlikely they’ll get back to you. However, there are online databases for writers that can greatly help you in your submissions to these magazines. One of the most well known is called Duotrope, which not only lists a large number of magazines both big and small, but also provides statistics on how likely it is that anything you submit will be accepted and how long it can take for different magazines to respond to your submission. For up-and-coming writers, as well as those who are more experienced, websites like Duotrope can be a great help for finding the magazine that’s right for you. In sum, utilize online resources to their fullest extent.

That’s all I have for now. Hopefully what I’ve give is useful to those of you who are looking to expand your poetry throughout the wide, wide world.

So long, and thanks for all the fish,

Sam Levenberg
Yorick Magazine

Marching across/ the Bridge on the River Kwai

Dear Storywriters, Storyhearers, and Pythonians,

The Summer 2013 reading session is over. To those who submitted, wonderful work so far. We’re still evaluating your pieces and will come to a decision. To those who didn’t submit, shame, forsakenness, misdeed upon your household! Or your wifi. Whichever affects you more.

You can always submit to our fine little literary magazine at yorickmagazine@gmail.com. If you missed the deadline for the Summer 2013 issue, why not submit for the Fall 2013 issue?

Do it. This is a warranted challenge. So is the following:

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“I Can Make it to the Gate in 3 Seconds, Can You?” by emilydickinsonridesabmx

As we run from attack dogs and march in tune, we realize that submitting work is a tough process. It’s equitable to raising children and sending them off into the world to get jobs—except your children can get rejected and you have to revise them to make them perfect.

Sounds pretty dystopian to me.

But it’s what writers do. All storytellers need to strive to find their medium. We don’t all have the honor of telling our tales to a tribe by the fireside in the desert. We don’t all have enthusiastic grandchildren who honor us with their ears. What we do have is the Internet.

The first magazine I successfully submitted to, Postcard Shorts, is a sweet affair with remote flash fictions that take your mind away for a few minutes, roughly. It’s an enjoyable publication and a reminder of why we write. Escape. A chance to travel to a new world, one not too far away but not so subtly in an inaccessible dimension.

That’s a lie. We submit to become famous. You want to be in an echelon where strangers will glorify your work and your friends will say, “Wow, I grew up with that chick, and now she’s a famous novelist/ short story writer/ poet? I really suck.” However, you can always relieve non-writer friends by reminding them that your pay affords the pens and paper you write with.

So escape and fame. What else? Here’s a thought: we’re all writing to concoct the same dream with different pieces, chemicals, people. A complete story, with a beginning, middle, and end (unless you’re one of those absurdist-surrealist compatriots, and to you I say write on). Detective solves a mystery. Lovers solve the mystery of love. Gloomy poets solve the mystery of isolation with more isolation. It’s completeness we seek; passengers on the same boat, towards the same lonely island, we take up different cabins believing we’re original.

So march on and whistle.

Submit.

Can you submit before the vicious dog reaches the fence in three seconds?

Yes. Absolutely yes.

Remember that even though our songs sound different, they follow the same tune. Go buy yourself some caviar, you peasant. You’ve earned it.

Love,
Alex