LEAP Intern Spotlight: A Charge of First-Degree Writing: Almost Objective Notes from a Slush Reader, By Morgan Konefal

Twenty chapbook manuscripts. Hundreds of poems. Hours reviewing, pitching, and selecting pieces to share with a world. As an editor, this is the delicious bread and butter sprinkled with inspiration and cheddar cheese, lots of cheddar cheese. And believe it or not, depending on your astute knowledge of the enigmas of the publishing world, us editors are writers as well.  

As verbally inclined artists, we are plagued (or blessed depending on your state of being) with a need to give a fraction of our jotted-down soul to anyone willing to hold it. Books. Zines. Facebook posts. A message in a bottle. Bathroom graffiti. A mother’s day card that only one person in the entire world willingly wants to read. 

Most importantly (and subjective to both you and me) are the beautiful forms of poetry and the literature that falls under the umbrella term “short stories”. And as an editor, I am often asked by invisible and imaginary enthusiastic submitters: “How do I go from hopeful applicant to slapping Take That, Doubters! onto my list of published praised places?” My answer? Maximum effort. Purpose. Passion. Think you’ve got all the ingredients mixed without lumps or an accidental addition of Chemical X? Look into the mirror and interrogate your reflection with the following script before pushing the “submit” button. 

  Why are you submitting?
  To get published.
  Don’t we all?
  I want to get published so I can go on and on and on and on and on and on
  about it at the office Christmas party.
  Wrong.

  Why is this poem going first in the collection?
  It’s the titular piece.
  Is it the strongest one?
  No.
  Wrong.

  Why does this character need to die?
  Because I hate my mother-in-law.
  But does it complicate the story? Does it produce that sweet, sweet nectar of
  character development? Is there a lesson learned at her expense? Will the
  reader be impacted? Think hard about it.
  You mean is this only a way to force my readers to live out a fantasy that is
  concerning as it is cliche?
  Yes.
  Yes.
  Wrong.

            Why
                    are
                    the
            words
                    placed
                    this
                               way?

  It’s a poetic, artistic choice.
  Yes, but does the form make sense with the message? Are the white spaces a
  way to denote the slowly melting polar regions in a poem about poisons
  pouring into the elements? Are alignments given to show the divide between
  two lovers as they realize their whirlwind relationship truly should stay in
  Vegas?
  No, it just looks cool.
  Wrong.

  Did Grammarly correct all your grammar mistakes for you?
  Mayb.
  Wrong.

Is this really a piece containing an idiosyncratic, beautiful voice that sings lyrics to awaken the soul of a nonbeliever? Did you really spend hours and hours rehearsing it before declaring it could not possibly have a higher potential for greatness? You’re really auditioning this work of magnificence because it means something to you and you hope it can to others?

Yes.

Congratulations, you’ve been selected for this edition of _______.