I submit to thee, new year

We’re well into 2014, but I still think we’re in a time of reflection, goal-setting, and planning for the months to come.

At the end of 2012, I wrote a blog post about my annual tally of lit journal submissions. It was “the year of 100 submissions,” as I had made—and achieved—that specific goal for 2012. For 2013, though, I didn’t set a defined number for my submission goals; I merely wanted to keep up a rhythm of getting polished pieces out the door amid the busy schedule of traveling, speaking, and major project deadlines.

As 2013 rolled into 2014, I was curious what that meant on paper. If I hadn’t set a specific numeric goal, did that mean my submission productivity dropped? It did, in some ways; yet I am super excited that my actual results weigh in with similarity.

During 2013, I made 46 submissions to lit journals (that’s 46 batches of poetry, short stories, and short nonfiction). Sure, that’s a significant drop, but my results came in very close percentage-wise to the previous year.

Out of those 100 submissions in 2012, 11 were accepted for an 11% hurrah rate. Out of the 46 submissions made in 2013, 5 received a yes for a 10.869% celebration rate. Not bad.

Also significant? There are 12 submissions from 2013, particularly from the late fall, that have not yet received a response at all just yet. So, there’s still some outstanding hope in the mail.

What does this mean? I don’t know. Quality outweighs quantity or something like that. More so, I think it means the better I define and understand where my work fits, the more chance it has of finding a home there.

Shall I set a goal for 2014? Maybe. I already know how busy this year will be on the road, teaching, and with two books on the agenda…. But I really do want to keep sending my work out into the lit journal world. So I think a fair goal is to surpass what I did for 2013, which means I’ll aim for about 50 submissions in this new year.

What about you?

The Couch Book: A 2014 Challenge

I have too many notebooks to count. Some are filled in their entirety. Others have a page or two with jotted notes. Some have pages torn from their spine.

When it comes to notebooks, I am only consistent in my addiction to acquiring them. They are tchotchkes: quaint items on a shelf I admire from afar. When I make notes for works-in-progress, I most often do so at the keyboard. I admire the art of handwriting, but I revel in the speed of my fingers on keys.

I’m always interested in twists and tricks to help my creative process, so for 2014 I am setting a goal. Not a resolution, but a goal that should be within my reach.

I’ve selected a spiral-bound hardcover notebook that I have deemed The Couch Book. I will place this notebook in my usual comfort corner, where I end the day resting up, sipping coffee, and watching mindless television with my spouse. While I have an awful time trying to read (meaningfully) whilst the television is on, I have found it possible for me to make little notes: grocery lists, to-do lists, random bursts of phrasing that may prove useful in a wip.

My goal for the year is to use The Couch Book on a daily basis, with no set goal of time or line length, to write something other than lists. I’m curious to see what ideas come out of committing to writing in a notebook for one year. My hunch is that without direction, without intent, and without those rules we so often impose on our creative writing time, I may see some organic growth in the idea department.

This is nothing new. Lovely, well-versed, and well-published authors claim so often how the journaling process works wonders for them. It is not my intent to journal, but it is my intent to see what happens when you take a pen and notebook out of the working, must-be-creating mindset and into the comfort of the couch.