Starting to publish might be hard, but there are so many different pathways.

I first published my work when I was sixteen. Before I knew the existence of literary Twitter or Instagram, of Discord groups full of teenagers who wanted to get their work out their in the world, I was a high schooler at a magnet school studying writing. My teachers would mention publishing here and there, but none of us really knew how to take that aspect of writing seriously.

And I wouldn’t expect us to—I have complicated feelings about teenagers feeling like they need to be forced to publish, or even young, budding writers in general. You shouldn’t feel forced to put your work out there; you should be able to do it at your own pace and whenever you feel like you’re ready to take that step.

But almost ten years later, I’d say I did quite a bit in the literary world. I did not chase after an MFA, as I believe my writing practice thrives independent of institutional workshops and support, but I did get an MA in the humanities because I thought that would make me a better writer and human being.

And during all of this time, I’ve published quite a bit and even teach workshops here and there about poetry and publishing. I’ve put out two different chapbooks, and while I have some others completed, I’ve been waiting to send them out into the world because I believe good things take time to marinate nowadays.

When I first began publishing my work, it was through the Internet I learned all the tips and tricks to try and get your work out there. I interned at a prominent literary magazine because I’d never done that before, and it was through that pathway I ultimately ended up becoming the Editor-in-Chief of Mud Season Review, which I stepped down from in 2024.

The literary magazine and publishing world can seem like an enigma from outsiders, but once you begin submitting and working within it, you learn more about how these things work.

Here are a few tips and tricks I’ve learned throughout the years.

Submitting truly is a numbers game, especially considering how large slush piles are.

Straight off the bat, something I think a lot of people don’t realize initially when they begin submitting is how many submissions a literary magazine gets. For example, if a reading period for a prominent literary magazine has a cap of 300 submissions per season, and they’re accepting 1-5 pieces of poetry, then that means the reader team is getting 1,500 poems to read through per reading season.

Most literary magazines are either run by volunteers, or are embedded at universities which enlists MFA graduate students, professors, and/or undergraduates to run the literary magazine. All of this is to say: the vast majority of the people reading these pieces are not paid for their labor, which is why it takes a while to get a response after they pass the work they like up the food chain to editors and EICs.

With that in mind, you should be submitting deliberately to where you want your work to be published. Not only do you want the mission of the magazine to align with yours (i.e. if they launch racist tirades against writers, do you want to be published there?), but your work should fit with their aesthetic. I always tell beginning writers and submitters to look to see where their favorites and influences have been published; that’s an easy way to start finding places.

All of that said, you’re going to have to submit a lot. The average acceptance rate for me in a year is around 3%, and when we judge it by the per poem ratio, that means I’m sending out hundreds of poems per year and only getting 3% of them published. In 2024 I took the year off from submitting, which was a godsend, as I was able to focus on my creativity and not on getting published.

And because the slush piles are so large though, you need to understand one reader having a bad day can make or break the submission. They might not like dead mom poems and reject you automatically—that doesn’t mean you give up on submitting that work elsewhere.

Submit early and often to literary magazines.

For places that use Submittable especially, you’re going to want to submit as early as possible in the reading period as you can, especially if it’s an independent publication or magazine. As someone who ran a literary magazine, I am very aware at how expensive Submittable is. You have to pay for more submission slots, and it is extremely expensive.

That’s why most places cap their submissions at around 300. Submit as early in the reading period as you can to make sure your work gets in front of the readers, and it might also help because if they’re on top of their submissions, then they’re going to get to it before they’re bogged down with five million submissions.

Submitting often is another key to this puzzle. Follow the guidelines a literary magazine sets, as some might clearly state that they only want submissions once a period or twice a year. Use common sense if they don’t and avoid spamming them multiple times within a reading period.

I use Duotrope, which I’ll discuss before, and track when literary magazines open and close their reading periods. There are some magazines where I will always submit to if I don’t have an outstanding submission being considered by them, and others I submit on and off to.

The name of the game here for me is to always be consistent about my submitting practice, even though it can feel like a job in itself and take away from my writing time.

Find free reading periods and opportunities as much as possible.

Because platforms like Submittable are expensive, and publications want to pay their writers more than pennies if they don’t have a university footing the bill, submission fees can be common. Usually they’re $3, but I’ve seen them go as high as $5.

Those fees can seriously add up, especially if you’re submitting often. I pay them sometimes, but usually I try to keep an eye out on these publications’ websites for if they have a free open reading period. Most do have them for certain months, or have an allotted amount of free submissions as soon as they open a reading period.

Others also have financial aid of sorts where they allow low income or BIPOC writers to submit for free. As a BIPOC writer myself, I have used these submission free entries for contests and publications, although I do try to pay or give a tip whenever possible if I have the money at the time.

Something writers don’t realize is that if they make enough money off of their writing, they can write these off on their taxes. I have a 1099 tax form at the end of each year and find that I can write off my submission fees, but a lot of people don’t realize business expensing is a thing if they qualify for it. Talk to an accountant about that if you want to explore it more.

Don’t take things personally—unless they’re deliberately being rude.

Submitting is a long and hard grind. Publishing also takes a long time, as there’ll be months after your acceptances sometimes as they finalize print copies and whatnot.

But even before you get to the publishing part of this process, you’re probably going to see a ton of rejection letters. Sometimes they’re personal and tiered, which I use places like Rejection Wiki to decode whether they are or not. If you get a tiered or personal rejection, you should definitely submit again.

I’ve gotten a handful of publications at places I never expected to be published at because I saw the rejection was a tiered one. I kept trying, and it might have taken three more times, but I kept getting their personal rejections and saw it as a way in. Eventually, I did have a poem or two published in these places.

Those rejections might sting in the beginning, especially when you’re not used to it. Advice given to my writing classes in high school was this: collect your rejections and be proud of them. It shows you tried and put yourself out there in the world, even if it didn’t end the way you wanted it to.

There was only one time I got a rejection that was actually nasty. I won’t name names, but I did keep the rejection to look back at and laugh over every so often, as I think it was pretty ironic because they did insult me in the actual rejection.

Basically, they sent me a one page document along with their rejection outlining every reason why my work sucked and that they hoped I fixed my writing. It wasn’t the nicest, and at the time I was hurt, but it’s become another example on why you move on and keep doing what you’re doing.

Use platforms like Duotrope and Chillsubs to find new places and track submissions.

So, once you actually start submitting to literary magazines, you’re going to realize one of two things: A) you don’t know what you submitted to XYZ magazine at XYZ time, and/or B) you have no idea when these places even open, especially if you’re not active on social media.

It’s through platforms like Duotrope and Chillsubs that you can find literary magazines, agents, or publishers. Not only will they tell you when they open and allow you to track your submissions, but they tell you self-reported acceptance rates from its users as well as suggest similar magazines.

I personally use Duotrope and have dabbled in Chillsubs just to see what it’s about. Duotrope you have to pay $50 a year for (not sure what the monthly rate is), but I believe Chillsubs is free. Doublecheck me on that, though. Duotrope has been my godsend as a writer and keeps me somewhat organized, as I know I would be accidentally submitting the same pieces over and over again to the same magazines.

Another way people do this is through spreadsheet tracking, which can work, but I find Duotrope to be so much easier and worth the money. It’s also a business expense for me as a writer, and I find the $50 yearly fee to be worth avoiding the headache of having to update the spreadsheet and make sure that I don’t resubmit the same poems out to a magazine.

And that’s all! I hope these brief tips helps someone out there in their journey of becoming a published writer. It’s hard, and it’ll take time, but I have hope everyone who wants to be published can achieve their dreams somewhere down the road.

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