That hurts my brain. Hard.
http://www.rejectionwiki.com/index.php?title=New_York_Quarterly_(NYQ)
I made it to the second tier. Woohoo.
I should try and see what kind of rejection i get!
The last two rejections I got from literary journals were personal notes and oddly apologetic. That so creeped me out that I'm giving up submitting for a while.
I like form rejections. They're so... rejecting.
" personal notes and oddly apologetic. That so creeped me out that I'm giving up submitting for a while."
I know what you mean. I got a handwritten letter from George Plimption (Paris Review) years ago, pulling the same stunt. After wiping the puke off my shoes I went out and buried my typewriter behind the cow barn...
;-)
Now, that's creepy...
Luckily I had just bought my first pair of two-tone Tom Wolfe leather slip-ons.
Now I know why he wears 'em.
Did you buy the white suit to go with them?
The chickens are layin' and I'm a'savin'!
a-minor reject with class. the same can not be said for other locales...
The only thing I ever found irritating in a response was being informed (by a biggie) my work had been short-listed...before the final decisions had been made (negatory, in this case).
Doing that only serves to get your hopes up, as the odds are still probably 1 in 50. I let 'em know how I felt about it and they changed their policy.
Even being told close-but-no-cigar after the fact is a mixed blessing (but I'll take it).
See... the form rejections are better than personal notes 'cause you can stare at them for hours and ask, "What do you suppose they mean by that?" or you can ask, "When they say, 'Unfortunately, we cannot use your (flash-fiction, poem).' And they forget to cirle one or the other, do you suppose they thought it was a poetic flash or a flashy poem?"
You can obsess over form rejections for days.
Then you ask, "When they say, 'We wish you the best of luck in placing this piece,' do you think they really believe I'm too good for them? Or are they being sarcastic?"
These are the moments I treasure.
Or:
"Jeez, they signed their name in ink... real ink... with a pen. Do you think..." Or don't you?
I dunno. I do know this: "Rejection is my dearest friend. He sends me notes of infinite encouragement and makes me try all the harder to raise my freakin' bar."
God help the poor editor/reader who's rejected me a dozen times, shows up at a writer's conference in Cleveland and walks back to his hotel room alone in the dark.
(Just kidding. Kind of. Sort of. Maybe.)
The old days had a lot to say for them.
Craft your submission--GO to the copy shop, choose your paper, your envelopes, your stamps...GO to the post office, INTERACT (or not) with the humans...
and then get on with life.
And when the SASE came back: hold it up to the light. See a little oblong shape inside: throw it away.
Actual pages and heft? MAYBE A CONTRACT!
Or just the return of you first page.
And then back to life.
I prefer form letters. When editors write personal notes, they betray a great deal of themselves and it's often not pretty. And then I find I can't submit to their magazine again...
One editor actually did a Gordon Lish on me: "Let's re-write this story together"! (I think that was GL?)
The bad thing about the old days before computers and such was when I moved around a lot and never heard back from about thirty or forty magazines I submitted to. I used to worry they were sending me checks that would never reach me.
HAH!!!!!!!!!!!