How to Submit Your Short Fiction
Submitting fiction is a craft of its own. The story matters most, but editors also notice whether a writer follows guidelines, writes a clean cover letter, and behaves professionally. None of it is difficult — it simply rewards patience and a little organization.
Before You Send
- Revise, then rest — read the finished story aloud after a week.
- Open strong; editors often decide within the first page.
- Cut everything the story can live without.
- Keep a master file and a status spreadsheet.
Choosing Where to Submit
- Read an issue first — fit matters more than prestige.
- Check the reading period before submitting.
- Mind the word-count limit (flash, short, standard).
- Note the fee; many fine journals are free.
Formatting Your Story
- Standard manuscript format: 12-pt serif, double-spaced.
- Header with your name, title, and page number.
- Title and word count on the first page.
- Send .docx unless a journal requests otherwise.
Simultaneous Subs & Etiquette
- Submit to several journals at once unless forbidden.
- Withdraw everywhere the moment a story is accepted.
- Don't query before the stated response time.
- Send one story per submission unless flash allows more.
Using Submittable
- Free for writers — one account tracks everything.
- Any fee shown belongs to the journal, not the platform.
- Follow each form's exact instructions.
- Withdraw from the dashboard when accepted elsewhere.
Handling Responses
- Expect rejection — it's about fit, not worth.
- Take a personal 'please send again' seriously.
- Read the contract; note rights and reprint terms.
- Submit steadily to build a publication record.
04 · Writing the Cover Letter
A cover letter is short, warm, and professional — three or four sentences. It does not explain or defend the story. A reliable template:
Dear Editors,
Please consider my short story, “[Title],” (about [word count] words) for publication in [Journal Name].
[One sentence of bio: recent publications, or simply that this would be among your first. If you have none, say so plainly — editors publish new writers every issue.]
Thank you for your time and for the work you do. I look forward to hearing from you.
Warmly,
[Your Name]
Do not: apologize, summarize the plot, list every credit you have, or address editors by the wrong journal name. Always double-check you have the right journal in the greeting.
What Every New Fiction Writer Should Know
Rights & What Editors Actually Buy
When a journal accepts a story, it does not own it forever. Most acquire First Serial Rights (often First North American Serial Rights) — the right to be the first to publish it. After publication, those rights return to you, and you keep the copyright throughout. You are then free to reprint the story in a collection or, once it counts as a reprint, submit it to venues that accept previously published work. Always read the acceptance note to confirm what rights are taken and when they revert.
“Published” Is Broader Than You Think
Nearly all journals want unpublished stories, and many define “published” to include your personal blog, a public social-media post, a contest anthology, or a piece posted in an online workshop. If a story has appeared anywhere public, treat it as a reprint and look specifically for journals that accept reprints. When in doubt, ask the editor before submitting.
Reading Fees — and the No-Fee Philosophy
Some journals charge a small fee (often $2–$3) to submit, usually to cover their submission platform. This is normal and not a scam. But you never need to pay to build a serious publication record: the majority of respected journals are free, and many paying journals offer fee waivers on request. Reserve paid submissions and contest fees for venues you genuinely want.
Avoiding Vanity Presses & Scams
Legitimate journals and contests never ask you to buy your way into print.
“You’ve been selected!”
Unsolicited emails congratulating you and then asking you to buy an expensive anthology or “certificate.” Real acceptances don’t require a purchase.
Everyone wins
“Contests” that accept virtually everyone and profit by selling the anthology back to contributors. A real contest has genuine selection and named judges.
Rights grabs
Terms that claim all rights or ownership of your work in perpetuity. Legitimate journals take first or one-time rights, then return them.
High fees, no pay
Large submission or “editing” fees with no payment to writers and no track record. Check a venue’s reputation before paying anything.
When unsure, look a venue up on Poets & Writers, check whether respected writers have published there, and search Writer Beware for warnings.
Payment: What to Expect
Short fiction pays a wide range. Many fine journals pay in contributor copies or a token amount; stronger-paying markets offer anywhere from $50 to several hundred dollars per story, and a few pay more. Publishing for little or no pay is normal early on; the value is in readership, credits, and building toward a collection or a novel.
Flash, Short, and the Path to a Collection
Most fiction writers build in stages. Place flash (usually under 1,000 words) and short stories in journals first. Over time those credits accumulate into a collection you can submit to contests and small presses, and they strengthen a query when you have a novel to sell. Every published story is a brick in that foundation.
Patience & Persistence
Response times commonly run one to six months, and rejection is the norm even for accomplished writers — acceptance rates at good journals are often under five percent. A “no” usually means the story didn’t fit that issue, not that it lacks worth. Keep a steady rhythm of submissions, celebrate personal notes from editors, and treat each rejection as one step closer to the right home for the story.
Your First Submission — Step by Step
If you have never submitted a story before, this section is for you. It is a single evening’s work — start to finish — and it will teach your hands the whole choreography that carries a piece of fiction from your desk into the world. Do it once, and every submission after this becomes ordinary.
Choose one story
- Not your best. Not your favorite. Just one you believe in.
- It should be finished — not perfect, but ended.
- You have already revised it at least twice.
- It has been sitting in a drawer at least a week.
Read it aloud, then rest
- Read the story aloud, slowly, from opening line to closing sentence.
- Mark anywhere your voice catches, hurries, or falters.
- Fix only what the reading exposed — do not begin a wider revision tonight.
- Save the polished file as Title_YourName_final.docx.
Format the manuscript
- 12-point serif, double-spaced, one-inch margins, ragged right.
- Top-left of page one: your legal name, address, email, phone, word count.
- Centered a third of the way down: your title, then your byline, then the story.
- Every page after page one: a running header — Your Last Name / SHORT TITLE / page #.
- End with the word END or a centered #.
Pick three journals
- Open the journals table below. Pick three whose fiction you admire.
- Click each link and confirm the reading period is open tonight.
- Confirm your story fits their word-count range.
- Prefer free journals for a first submission. Paid contests come later.
Write the cover letter
- Use the template above. Three or four sentences.
- Change the journal name and story title for each of your three submissions.
- If you have no publications yet, say so plainly — editors publish new writers every issue.
- Read the greeting twice. Wrong journal name is the fastest way to bury a submission.
Submit on Submittable
- Make a free Submittable account if you do not have one.
- Follow each journal’s link from the table — it usually opens the submission form.
- Upload the .docx, paste in the cover letter, submit.
- The whole trio takes under twenty minutes once formatted.
Log every send
- Open a plain spreadsheet — Google Sheets, Excel, or a notebook page.
- Columns: Story · Journal · Date Sent · Response Deadline · Status · Notes.
- Log all three tonight before closing the laptop.
- Set a calendar reminder ninety days out to check status.
Start the next one
- The story is out. That part of the work is done.
- Return to your desk tomorrow and open the next draft.
- Submitting is not a project — it is a habit. Send. Write. Send again.
- The rhythm is what turns a writer into a published writer.
The whole walkthrough, done in one sitting, is the most valuable exercise in this guide. After tonight, submitting is no longer a threshold — it is a door you have already walked through.
Beginner-Friendly Literary Journals
These journals publish short fiction and either welcome emerging writers explicitly or keep barriers low. Most are free to submit to. Every venue was verified on its own website in July 2026 — always confirm current guidelines before submitting.
| Journal | What They Publish | Fee | Reading Period | Per Sub |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| One Story | Literary fiction — one story per issue | Free | Reopens periodically; capped at a submission ceiling per window — check the live status before submitting | 3,000–8,000 words; one story per submission period; no AI-assisted work |
| The Sun | Emotionally honest short stories (plus essays, poetry, photography) | $2.50 online (free by mail with SASE) | Open year-round via Submittable | No formal limit; rarely publishes over 7,000 words. Pays on publication. |
| Ploughshares | Fiction, poetry, and nonfiction | Free | General reading period June 1 – November 15 | One submission per reading period. Separate Emerging Writer’s Contest in Feb–Mar (see Contests). |
| SmokeLong Quarterly | Flash narratives (flash-only) | Free windows available | Rolling by issue; Dec-issue window runs Aug 16 – Nov 15, 2026 | Up to 1,000 words; one piece (or up to three via multi-sub option). Flash-only. |
| Wigleaf | Stories under 1,000 words (flash-only) | Free | Reopens the final week of August 2026; capped windows in following months | Under 1,000 words; 1–2 stories per doc (up to 5 micros under 250 words). Flash-only. |
| CRAFT | Fiction (flash and short) and creative nonfiction | Free | Open year-round, no cap | Flash up to 1,000 words; short fiction 1,000–6,000 words. Pays $100 flash / $200 short fiction. |
| The Masters Review — New Voices | New writing by emerging writers (fiction and CNF) | Free | Open year-round | Under 7,000 words; up to three flash pieces in one doc. Eligibility: no novel-length work with a major press. Pays $100–$200. |
| Split Lip Magazine | Flash, fiction, memoir, poetry, art, interviews | Free in Jan, Mar, May, Sep, Nov; paid tiers other months | Year-round except closed Dec 15–31; free-submission months rotate | Flash under 1,000 words; fiction 1,000–3,000 words. Pays $100/author. No genre fiction. |
| Fractured Lit | Microfiction and flash fiction (flash-only) | Free general categories; paid named contests | General Micro/Flash categories always open; named contests rotate | Prose 500–4,500 words in general categories. Writers at every career stage welcome. Flash-only. |
| Flash Frog | Flash fiction only (flash-only) | Free | Open year-round (July = themed call only; general reopens Aug 1) | 1,000 words maximum; one story at a time. Pays $25/story. Flash-only. |
| Wildness | Poetry, fiction, and non-fiction | Free | Rolling; reading for the Autumn 2026 issue | Fiction/nonfiction limited to 1,000 words; one prose submission (up to 5 poems). Unpaid market; email submission. |
| The Threepenny Review | Short stories and memoirs (plus essays, poetry, Table Talk) | Free | Reads Jan 1 – mid-April only; closed Apr 15 – Dec 31. Reopens Jan 1, 2027. | Stories/memoirs 4,000 words or less. Pays $400/story. NO simultaneous submissions. |
| X-R-A-Y Literary Magazine | Prose only — short stories, flash, CNF, and micros (no poetry) | Free (optional tip) | Opens the 1st of each month; closes when the monthly cap is reached | Short stories 2,000–7,500 words; flash 300–2,000 words; micros up to 300 words. Some months restricted to first-time submitters. |
| Passages North | Fiction, poetry, short-shorts, nonfiction, and hybrid | Free (monthly cap) | Fiction reads Sep 1 – Oct 15 and Jan 1 – Feb 15. Reopens Sept 1, 2026. | Fiction 1,000–5,000 words. Contributor copy only. |
| Mid-American Review | Fiction, poetry, translation, nonfiction; welcomes flash and experimental work | Free | Open year-round, all genres | Fiction up to 6,000 words (query for longer). Long-standing university-based journal. |
| Barrelhouse | Rolling themed fiction, CNF, and poetry; pop-culture-inflected literary work | Free | Short themed windows rotate — check the current call on Submittable | One piece per submission. Pays $50/contributor. |
| Longleaf Review | Flash and short fiction, CNF, poetry | Free | Two windows per year: Nov 1 – Dec 31 and June 1 – July 31. Reopens Nov 1, 2026. | One piece under 3,000 words. $20 honorarium when funds permit. |
| The Adroit Journal | Fiction, poetry, CNF, translation — highly polished literary work | Free | Feb 15 – Mar 30 and Sept 15 – Nov 1. Reopens Sept 15, 2026. | Up to 3 pieces / 9,000 words combined. Pays $100 to fiction/CNF contributors. Highly selective. |
| Waxwing | Fiction, poetry, CNF, translation — monthly rotating genre calendar | Free | Capped at 300 submissions/month. Flash fiction month = January; long-form fiction = June. | Flash under 1,000 words; long-form 1,000–10,000 words. International literary work welcome. |
Flash-only markets are noted in the description. A few venues are cyclical or briefly paused — confirm the live status on each journal's own site before submitting.
Contests for Emerging Fiction Writers
Contests can bring larger prizes and visibility. Several below are reserved for writers without a book from a major press — a genuine advantage for newer writers. Deadlines rotate annually; the dates shown reflect the 2026 cycle unless noted.
| Contest | Type | Fee | Prize | Deadline / Cycle |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| The Masters Review Short Story Award for New Writers | Short story (fiction or narrative nonfiction, under 6,000 words) | $20 | $3,000 + online publication + agency review; runner-up $300; third $200 | Bi-annual. Summer round: July 1 – Aug 30, 2026 (open now). Winter round: opens Nov 2026 for Feb 1, 2027 deadline. |
| Missouri Review — Jeffrey E. Smith Editors’ Prize | Short story (fiction, up to ~8,500 words); separate poetry and CNF categories | $25 (includes 1-year digital subscription) | $5,000 per genre + publication in the Spring 2027 issue | Deadline October 1, 2026 (open now). Annual. |
| Zoetrope: All-Story Short Fiction Competition | Short story (fiction, up to 5,000 words) | $30/story | 1st $1,000 + publication in All-Story; 2nd $500; 3rd $250 | Deadline October 1, 2026 (open now). Results announced Dec 15, 2026. |
| CRAFT Flash Prose Prize | Flash fiction and CNF (up to 1,000 words; up to 2 pieces/entry) | $20 (free entries for historically marginalized writers, cap applies) | 3 winners at $1,000 each; 3 editors’ choice at $200 each | July 13 – September 13, 2026 (open now). Guest judge: Amy Hempel. |
| Boulevard Short Fiction Contest for Emerging Writers | Short story (fiction, up to 8,000 words) | $18/story (includes one-year subscription) | ~$1,500 + publication in Boulevard | Opens September 1, 2026; closes December 31, 2026. For writers without a book of fiction from a nationally distributed press. |
| Bath Flash Fiction Award | Flash fiction (max 300 words) | Approx. £9/story; early-bird and multi-entry discounts | ~£1,000 first; £300 second; £100 third; commendations + anthology publication | New round opened July 1, 2026; closes early October 2026. Three rounds per year. |
| Ploughshares Emerging Writer’s Contest (Fiction) | Short story (fiction, up to 6,500 words) | Free | $2,000 + publication in Ploughshares + conversation with Aevitas Creative Management | Opens ~February 1, 2027; closes March 31, 2027. Annual. |
| The SmokeLong Quarterly Award (“The Smokey”) | Flash fiction (1,000 words or fewer) | $15–$37 (tiered by entries and window) | Grand $2,500; 2nd $1,000; 3rd $500; finalists $150 + publication | Opens ~February 1, 2027; closes ~May 10, 2027. Annual. |
| Bristol Short Story Prize | Short story (max 4,000 words) | £14/story (250 free entries available on request) | £1,500 first; £500 second; £250 third; 12 shortlisted £50 each + anthology | 2027 cycle expected to open November 2026; closes late January 2027. Annual. |
| Narrative Story Contest | Short story / short-shorts / other prose (up to 15,000 words) | $27/entry | $2,500 first; $1,000 second; $500 third; up to ten finalists at $100 each | Seasonal cycles run throughout the year. Check the Narrative site for the next Winter or Spring window. |
A few 2026 deadlines have passed or were still showing a prior cycle at verification — they illustrate the annual pattern; check each site for the next opening. UK contests (Bath, Bristol) are priced in GBP.
The Rejection & Revision Playbook
Most of what returns from a submission is not an acceptance. Learning to read what you receive — and to answer it well, or not answer at all — is a working writer’s most useful skill. Rejections fall into three distinct categories, and each calls for a different response.
The Three Kinds of Rejection
The Form Rejection
- Same paragraph every writer receives. No named reader, no note about your story.
- Reads: “Thank you for sending. Unfortunately this is not right for us. We wish you the best of luck placing it.”
- This means only one thing: the story did not fit that issue.
- Not a verdict on the story. Send it out again the same day if you can.
The Tiered Rejection
- A form rejection with one added line: “This was a close read for us,” or “This came close.”
- Sometimes signed by a name, sometimes by an editorial team.
- Meaning: the story made it past the first reader. It reached a discussion.
- Response: no reply needed. Log it, celebrate quietly, send that story out again immediately.
The Personal Rejection
- Written specifically about your story, by name. Two to six sentences.
- May name a scene, a line, a character. May say “please send us more soon.”
- The rarest and most valuable reply in this guide — under five percent of submissions receive one.
- Response: yes. Reply briefly, warmly, and follow through — see the template below.
What a Personal “Please Send Again” Actually Means
When an editor takes fifteen minutes to write to you personally, they are telling you three things at once: they read the story carefully, they liked your writing, and they want to see more of your work. The invitation is real, not a courtesy. Treat it as an open door and walk through it.
Reliable reply to a personal rejection
Dear [Editor’s Name],
Thank you for reading “[Story Title]” so closely, and for the kind note. It means a great deal.
I would very much like to send another story. I will submit one within the next few weeks through your regular submission process, and I will mention this note in the cover letter so you can find it.
Thank you again — I appreciate the invitation.
Warmly,
[Your Name]
Then do it. Submit another story within four to six weeks, through the normal channel, and reference this reply in your new cover letter: “[Editor] kindly wrote to me about ‘[Previous Story]’ earlier this year and asked me to send more work.” That single sentence lifts your submission out of the general pile.
When to Revise, When Not To
Revise the story when…
- Three or more personal rejections all name the same problem — the ending, the pacing, a character’s arc.
- Reading the story aloud tonight, you can hear the flaw yourself.
- You have grown as a writer since drafting it and can now see what you missed.
- The story has been out fifteen or more times without a personal note.
Do not revise when…
- You received a single form rejection. Send it out again as-is.
- An editor’s note praises the story overall and names one small preference (a taste call).
- You are tempted to change the opening because it just came back from journal #3. Give it more time.
- You are rewriting from anxiety rather than from craft. Rest first, then decide.
The Fifteen-Sub Rule
A working benchmark for emerging writers: if a story goes out to fifteen carefully chosen journals and comes back with only form rejections and no personal notes, retire that story to a folder and let it rest at least six months before revising. If it returns even one personal rejection along the way, keep sending — that story is finding its readers, just slowly.
Rejection is the ordinary weather of a working writer’s life. It is not a verdict. It is the room where the work gets stronger.
Reprints & the Second Life of a Story
A story does not end when it appears in a journal. Once your rights have reverted — and they almost always do — the piece can be sent out again to journals and contests that accept previously published work. This second life is where a writer’s early credits become a working body of work.
What Counts as a Reprint
Once a story has appeared in print or online anywhere — a literary journal, an anthology, a Substack post, even your own website — most journals consider it published. If you send it out again without disclosing this, you are in violation of the guidelines, and acceptances have been rescinded on this basis. When submitting a reprint:
Confirm rights have reverted
- Read your original acceptance letter. Most journals take First Serial Rights only, which revert on publication or a stated interval after.
- If unclear, email the original journal and ask when rights revert.
- Wait for confirmation in writing. Save it in the story’s file.
Disclose in the cover letter
- One sentence, plainly stated: “This story first appeared in [Original Journal], [Season/Year], and rights have reverted.”
- Include the URL if the story is online.
- Never hide prior publication. Reprint-friendly journals expect and welcome the disclosure.
Send only to reprint-friendly venues
- Most journals accept only unpublished work. Do not submit reprints there.
- The table below lists venues that explicitly accept reprints as of August 1, 2026. Confirm each on the journal’s own site before submitting.
Update your master list
- In your tracking spreadsheet, tag each story with its status: unpublished, published, or reprint-eligible.
- Rotate reprints just as you rotate unpublished stories — new venues, fresh cycles.
Where Reprints Are Welcome
These journals and contests explicitly accept previously published short fiction. All were verified on the venue’s own website on August 1, 2026 — always confirm current guidelines before submitting.
| Venue | What They Accept | Fee | Reading Period | Word Limit |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| The Lascaux Prize in Short Fiction | “Stories may be previously published or unpublished” — explicit reprint welcome. Simultaneous submissions accepted. | $15 | Annual cycle (most recent deadline June 30). Check site for next window. | Up to 10,000 words |
| The Lascaux Review (general) | General reprint policy: reprints welcome, no statute of limitations. | Free | Rolling | Not specified |
| Fractured Lit (Micro / Flash general) | Reviews reprints (including self-published or social-media work) in general Micro / Flash categories. Does not pay for reprints. Contests exclude reprints. | Free | General Micro / Flash categories always open | Flash under 1,000 words; micros under 400 |
| CRAFT (general submissions) | Considers reprint fiction for general submissions. Does not pay for reprints. Contests exclude reprints. | Free | Open year-round, no cap | Short fiction 1,000–6,000 words |
| Trampset | “We consider previously published material from time to time” — case-by-case. | Free (paid Tip Jar option available) | Rolling | Prose up to 3,000 words |
| Doubleback Review | Publishes ONLY reprints from journals that have since gone defunct. A rescue publication for orphaned work. | Free | Rolling; 2 issues/year (April, October) | Poetry, flash fiction, short prose |
| PodCastle | Fantasy short fiction; accepts reprints and translations. Query first for reprints longer than the standard cap. | Free to submit | Rolling (check for open windows) | Up to 6,000 words originals; longer reprints by query |
| Escape Pod | Science fiction short stories — accepts reprints. | Free to submit | Rolling | Not specified |
| Zooscape | Anthropomorphic-animal fiction. Accepts reprints when clearly labeled. | Free to submit | Next reading period opens 2026 — check site for exact date | Not specified |
| Cast of Wonders | Young-adult speculative fiction. Accepts reprints, including work previously published on Patreon or in audio format. | Free to submit | Rolling and seasonal calls | Not specified |
A note on candidates you may see elsewhere: some earlier reprint guides listed the Masters Review Reprint Prize and Longleaf Review as reprint-friendly. As of August 1, 2026, Masters Review’s live guidelines state reprints are not accepted, and Longleaf Review accepts reprints only in a narrow exception (work pulled due to harassment). Always check the venue’s current guidelines rather than an older list.
From Reprints to Collection
The purpose of placing reprints is not only to reach new readers, though that matters. It is also to grow the body of published stories that eventually becomes a collection. Small presses and contest judges routinely ask for evidence of prior publication when evaluating a story-collection manuscript; a set of ten or fifteen stories, each with a real credit, is a working writer’s clearest signal of readiness.
Every reprint acceptance is another brick in that foundation. Send the same story out three, four, five times over the years — into the reprint markets that welcome it — and it accumulates a life larger than any single publication.
A reprint is not a lesser publication. It is a story continuing to do its work.
Submission-Tracking & Discovery Tools
Submittable
Industry-standard submission-management platform where writers submit to and track applications; Discover marketplace lists open calls.
Chill Subs
Free database of 3,000+ literary magazines and 1,200+ contests plus a submissions tracker and discovery tools.
The Submission Grinder
Donation-supported submission tracker and market database for fiction, poetry, and nonfiction writers with a powerful market search.
Duotrope
Award-winning database of publishers and agents with submission trackers, custom searches, deadline calendars, and statistics.
Poets & Writers
Editorial-vetted database of nearly 1,000 literary magazines with policies, guidelines, contacts, and open-reading-period filters.
On a budget? Submittable + Chill Subs (or the Submission Grinder) + Poets & Writers is a complete, no-cost toolkit.
Glossary of Submission Terms
The vocabulary editors use, in plain language.
- Simultaneous submission
- Sending the same story to more than one journal at once. Standard practice, but withdraw immediately anywhere it is accepted.
- Multiple submission
- Sending more than one separate story to the same journal in one reading period. Usually discouraged unless the journal allows it.
- First Serial Rights
- The right to be the first to publish a story. Reverts to you after publication; you keep the copyright.
- Reprint
- A story published before (including on a blog or social media). Only certain journals accept reprints — check first.
- Flash fiction
- Very short fiction, usually under 1,000 words; 'micro' is often under 300.
- Reading period
- The window when a journal accepts submissions. Many open only a few months or weeks a year, or close at a monthly cap.
- Standard manuscript format
- 12-point serif, double-spaced, with a header carrying your name, title, and page number.
- Cover letter
- A brief, professional note accompanying your story — not a place to summarize the plot.
- Contributor copies
- Free copies of the issue your work appears in, often given in place of (or alongside) payment.
- Slush pile
- The stack of unsolicited submissions editors read through. Yours starts here — that's normal.
- Fee waiver
- A free pass around a submission fee, offered by many journals on request or for writers facing financial barriers.
- Tiered / expedited response
- An optional paid upgrade some journals offer for a faster reply. Never required.
A Simple Starting Plan
If this feels like a lot, start here. This four-step rhythm will place you on a professional footing within a single afternoon.
Pick three free journals whose fiction you admire and whose reading period is open now.
Polish one story in standard manuscript format, opening as strong as you can.
Write one short cover letter using the template above, tailoring the journal name for each.
Log each submission in a spreadsheet or free tracker, then set a reminder to submit again next month.
Stories live when they find readers. Send them out, keep good records, and let each "no" move you toward the right "yes."
A Personal Note to You
First, let me say how glad I am that you are here, and how much your writing has come to mean to me. Whatever happens with any single submission, please know that I believe in you and in the work you are doing.
I want to tell you something before you begin, because I wish someone had told me plainly when I was starting out: this was hard for me too. For years I sent my stories into the quiet and waited, and what came back, again and again, was no. The rejections arrived in bundles — some gentle, most simply silent — and every one of them asked whether I was willing to keep going. I decided that I was. Not because I felt sure of the work, but because I had come to believe that the writers who make it are rarely the most gifted in the room; they are the ones who keep sending, who let each no be a comma and never a period.
What carried me through was not confidence — it was persistence, and the quiet discipline of returning to the desk: revise, submit, write down the date, start the next story, and send again. It added up. Over the years my work has appeared in literary journals more than two hundred times — but every one of those began as a story sent into that same silence, unsure of its welcome. I promise you this: the acceptances, when they came, did not cancel the rejections. They grew out of them. Every no was teaching me something, even when it didn’t feel that way.
I care very much that you get published — not someday, but truly, and not because publication is the only measure of a writer, but because your work deserves to be read, and because I know how much it means to hold that first acceptance in your hands. So I’ll ask of you the same thing I once had to ask of myself, and I’ll ask it gently: choose a story you believe in, find two or three journals from the lists in this guide, and submit it today. Not tomorrow. Not when it feels perfect — it never will. Today. The waiting is part of the work, and you are more ready than you think.
And let me say this plainly, because I mean it: I think of you as my peers — fellow writers, not students beneath me. I respect every one of you. It has been one of the great joys of my life to witness your talent up close and to sit with you in conversation about writing and literature, and I have come away from those hours happier and richer for them. I am confident — genuinely, not politely — that you will be published if you persist.
One last thing. Other writers were generous with me when I was starting out, and that generosity is a debt I can only repay forward — so on the pages that follow, I’ve shared a little of my own work with you: what I believe about writing, and two introductions from books I’m still making. They are not offered as the best of anything, only as honest examples, one writer to another.
I’m rooting for you — always. Be gentle with yourself, keep going, and know that I am in your corner every step of the way.
— James Mulhern, Silver Current Press
An Artistic Creed
Over the years, so many writers generously shared their work with me — their drafts, their beliefs, their hard-won lessons — and I would not be where I am without that generosity. So let me share some of mine with you in return. I do not offer these because I think they are the best; I don’t. I offer them simply as honest examples you can look at, learn from, and then set aside to write something that sounds like no one but you. Here is one of mine — a statement of what I believe about my own work.
I write as a Transcendentalist — in sensibility and in spirit. I came to this not as a doctrine to be argued but as a way of seeing I could not put down. Emerson taught me to trust the inner light and to call the great current of things the Oversoul. Thoreau taught me to look long and closely at the near and the small until they open. Whitman taught me that a single life, honestly told, contains multitudes and belongs to everyone. I am in their debt, and I do not pretend otherwise.
I believe the sacred is not far off but here — in a kitchen, a sickroom, a stretch of shoreline, the face of someone loved and lost. I believe the soul is not sealed within us but joined, through the Oversoul, to every other soul that has been or will be. And I believe that nothing true is ever finished. The Oversoul repeats and refines what it has made, never completing it, and I take my instruction from that unhurried, unfinished work.
This is why I return, deliberately, to the same scenes, the same symbols, the same kinds of people. The repetitions in my work are purposeful — they are my way of pointing to the truth I hold. I am not repeating myself; I am practicing recurrence, gathering up the same enduring truths and setting them down again in new hands, new voices, new incarnations. What is laid down is taken up. Nothing we love is lost; like water, like breath, like light, it is only changed, only carried forward, only lived anew.
So I write from mercy rather than judgment, and I extend that mercy to every character I make. I treat each story as a small act of faith — a way of summoning what is unseen and holding it in the light a little longer. If my work has one purpose, it is this: to show that the ordinary is holy, that memory is a form of love, and that we are, all of us, one people — gathered, remade, and never truly parted.
— James F. Mulhern
Two Sample Introductions
In the same generous spirit — the way other writers once shared their pages with me — I want to hand you two more of mine. Many books open with an introduction or a foreword, and writing one for your own work is harder than it looks. Please don’t take these as the best examples; they are simply mine, and I offer them humbly. And I want you to see them honestly, as works in progress: both books are still being made as I write this, and I am still revising these very pages. I cross out, begin again, and doubt them, exactly as you will with yours. That is not a sign you are failing. It is the work. I share them only so you have something real to look at when the time comes to write your own.
Introduction — All We Ever Needed (a story collection)
The stories in All We Ever Needed move through kitchens, classrooms, beaches, bookstores, apartments, and fading neighborhoods where love and damage rarely arrive one at a time. Again and again, people try to live inside family histories that have already marked them. Some are buoyed by memory, some haunted by it, and some use wit, cruelty, appetite, or make-believe to keep from being swallowed by what they know.
A few images recur by design. Water is the constant: a seawater cure sought on the Feast of the Assumption, a pond that has kept its drowned, a bath drawn for an aging mother, a fountain, a river, and at last a rain that leaves a man drenched to the bone. I have let it move through the book as more than weather. Water is the oldest sign of the spiritual life — the water of baptism, of ruin and renewal — and it runs beneath these ordinary lives as the possibility, never quite promised, of being made clean.
I take language to be a sacred inheritance and the act of naming to be a kind of devotion. These stories are my prayers, and my prayers are my stories; the recurrences in these pages are laid there in that spirit. What remains, after the jokes sour and the illusions fall away, is the question the collection keeps returning to: what, in the end, sustains us? The answers here are partial, unruly, and deeply human.
— James Mulhern (draft · in progress)
Foreword — Mia Bambina and Other Stories
There is a durable American lineage of fiction that begins not with spectacle but with a room, a family car, a parish, a school hallway, a kitchen table at which someone says the wrong thing and the air changes. One hears, at moments in these stories, the grave attentiveness of Andre Dubus, the domestic acuity of Alice McDermott, the religious pressure of Mary Gordon, the rueful comic steadiness of Richard Russo.
The five stories gathered in Mia Bambina and Other Stories move through Boston dormitories and beaches, old kitchens and classrooms, South Florida cafés and storefronts heavy with incense. Their geography is specific, but the territory is interior: the strange compromise by which people continue to live near shame, grief, lust, resentment, love. The sacred and the profane are not opposites here. They are neighbors. In certain families, they are sisters.
These are stories of mortality, memory, and moral compromise told without sentimentality. They ask how much harm can be done in the name of love, how much mercy can survive in a damaged person, and whether any ritual can prepare us for the final silence. The answer, mercifully, is not simplified. The stories look hard. They do not look away.
— from the front matter of Mia Bambina and Other Stories (draft · in progress)