February 16, 2005:

 

Michael: Hello, Beverly. First of all, let me thank you for taking time out of your very hectic schedule to talk to me. And good job on a great literary magazine and publishing company. How do you find time to do it all?

Beverly:

I don’t have time to do it all. Ink Pot, our print literary journal and Lit Pot Press, our nonprofit independent (very small!) press are my kids. Once you have them, they can’t be ignored, they consume your days and nights, and their wellbeing is foremost in your mind. There’s no such thing as enough time, so having a reliable and talented staff is my only salvation.

Michael: As the Editor in Chief, do you take it upon yourself to personally read every manuscript that eventually finds its way into print in either your magazine or your books?

Beverly:

I’m blessed to have exceptional staff. Lalo Fox, my Managing Editor also doubles as Poetry Editor and Submissions Wrangler and has a huge job, all of which I used to do (I cannot imagine how he does it)— for both the print journal and the website. My other exemplary and overworked editors are Carol Peters and Danielle LaVaque-Manty on Short Stories; Myfanwy Collins on Flash and TJ Forrester on Creative Nonfiction. When the work is excellent, and is a good fit for Ink Pot, it is then sent around for editorial powwows. Yes, I read everything we print. But all of us participate in the consideration of acceptances via rather informal and honest appraisals of quality, edits needed, and appropriateness to our venue.

Michael:

There are a lot of writers out there who are going to be hanging on every word of your answer to this next question. So let’s be really mean and lie to them. (Just kidding. I really do want you to tell the truth!) When you’re looking through the pile of stories on your desk, what is it about a particular piece that turns you off? Maybe the writer is really good with words and is telling a great story, but it just doesn’t gel for you. What other aspects of writing are you looking for?

Beverly:

Oh no, I would beg to tell the truth on this. We LOVE to get good work that is right for us; it’s a happy day when we send out an acceptance, believe me. There’s nothing more frustrating than getting a pile of stories that are not our cup of ambrosia. Especially if they’re well written but mainstream; or genres like romance, science fiction, religious, children’s, et al. One thing that turns us off is writers who don’t bother to read Guidelines. To assist writers we labored to put together explanatory pages, only to have them often ignored. We look for literary fiction for grownups, fiction that is often too idiosyncratic for commercial venues, fiction that:

~ takes risks

~ explores the maze of human conduct in fresh, intimate way

~ uses language in complex, beautiful combinations

~ creates characters who enter our mind and remain there

~ engages us with our mortality and our humanity

~ transforms ideas into visceral experiences

~ elevates the best in us, enabling a connection to our spiritual and creative natures.

That might sound like a hard bill to fill, but actually we do get submissions that match many of those standards. Another good way to judge whether it’s right for Ink Pot is to ask "Is this work fresh and edgy?" "Is it different or is it similar to too many stories I’ve read?" Ink Pot likes the quirky character, the offbeat situation, the exploding freshness of a new idea. What we don’t like are the same old hackneyed stories told and retold in pedestrian language, with predictable endings, preachy morality tales, political diatribes, or stabs at experimental work which carry no logic or value to anyone but the writer. It really helps to dig into our archives where our tastes are fairly obvious.

Michael:

Now in the flip side of that coin, you have room for one more story in an issue and two manuscripts in front of you that are both just dying to be published. What are the intangibles that you use to pick one story over the other?

Beverly:

Well, it’s always the story itself. If one is more literary, better written, more touching, or funnier (we really love sophisticated humor (not cornball or slapstick) and get so little of it) then it’s no problem. If we liked both of them equally, we’d probably put them both in and make it a longer issue. Being a small, independent press, we get to do smart-ass things like that once in awhile.

Michael:

So basically, how would you describe the "perfect" short story in three sentences or less? (Don’t look at me in that tone of voice. You expect that kind of writing from your authors all the time!!)

Beverly:

Every editor has her own standards.. Our staff seldom agrees on every piece we choose, so I thought it might be fun to poll some of my editors and see what they think is the perfect short story.

For me:

It would have a compelling beginning, a progressing middle and a satisfying end. (Easier said than done). It would have fleshed-out characters that the reader cares about, and ‘somewhere’ to go. Its language would be art, each sentence a remarkable and careful masterpiece, and overall, it would be magnificently memorable.

For Myfanwy

: The perfect flash fiction may explore a tired theme, but in a way unique to the reader’s experience and contain a consistent voice, tone, have exemplary characterization, exquisite use of the language, evoke a strong emotion, create a dreamy reality, or hit a funny bone. We’re not looking for the earth to shake, but to experience a 'flash,' like a light bulb popping on.

For Danielle

: The perfect short story is one that seduces me so that I cannot stop reading it before I reach the end. Its form and language are integral to its aesthetic world and do not call attention to themselves at the story's expense. It jolts me out of emotional stasis and makes me laugh or breaks my heart, or,preferably, both.

For Carol

: A protagonist I can't forget. A series of surprises that delight. Language that makes me swoon repeatedly. An implausible ending that could be no other way.

Now I bet you’re sorry you asked!

Michael:

Do you tend to use the same writers over and over again? Or do you prefer to "recycle" them, so to speak, in order to keep a fresh set of voices in your pages?

Beverly:

We don’t pay a lot of attention to that aspect of submissions. We’re all about the submission itself. It is true that some writers have keyed into what we like and they get accepted often. We do love it when people come back after being published in Ink Pot. It makes me think they like what we’re doing. On the other hand, writers like to accrue credits and don’t want to send their work to the same journal over and over, so we sometimes get one sterling piece and never see that writer again. Some move on to become editors, publishers and go do their own thing. So keeping track of them is fruitless. We consider everyone we publish as part of our family because they’re on our wave length, in one way or another. There’s no shortage of talent and submissions, so one is too busy to even think along those lines. It’s always thrilling to find new talent. I think that’s the biggest thrill an editor can get. And we do try to nurture promising newcomers as best we can.

Michael:

Here’s a question that seems to annoy a lot of other editors. I hope it doesn’t make you mad at me. But I’m going to try anyway. Writer’s spend vast amounts of time writing a story, and when they finally have it fine-tuned to the point where they want to send it out, they discover all the "best" magazine have a policy of not accepting simultaneous submissions. We writers are grateful to magazines like yours that do NOT follow that policy. My question is, what is it about literary magazines that makes them assume that writers have an infinite amount of time to market their work? What’s with this "no simultaneous submissions" nonsense?

Beverly:

Annoyed? Not at all. If you read our Mission Statement, you know that this is one of the reasons we became a journal in the first place. The abuse that writers take at the hands of publishers and editors is unconscionable. Writers are the most patient people I know and need to be honored and respected. We turn submissions around in a matter of days, a week or two on the outside. Why? One, it’s fair and respectful to writers and Two, if we want the piece, we will have first grabs at it because of our reading policy. We are all writers ourselves (people tend to forget that many editors are on both ends of this process) and can understand no reason for the attitude of many other publications, unless they are just stupidly doing what’s been done to them. I can tell you that editors and publishers work very hard, and especially those small independents sans resources.

So I always urge people to give them the benefit of a doubt. But this is no excuse for discourtesy and abuse, in my opinion. And don’t even get me started on Agents and Book Publishers.

Michael:

Well it’s good to know that there are at least a few editors out there who remember what it’s like to be on the other end. Let’s move on to your book publishing endeavors. Do you basically sift through your pile of magazine contributors looking for novelists? Do you go looking for them, or do you find writers out of the slush pile?

Beverly:

Our tiny press only publishes a few books a year. We find our writers in the pages of Ink Pot, and by working with them on edits, establish relationships with those who have marketing savvy and a product that meets our profile. I don’t actually look for books. They seem to find me in this process of doing the journal. We do NOT take submissions for novels or collections, so I want to make that very clear. We simply don’t have the staff or resources to run a full-blown press. We’re in the business of supporting extraordinary writers who are largely ignored in the mainstream publishing world. But we choose the press books in a rather kismet fashion, I’m afraid. Someday this might change, and we’ll bang the drum, when and if.

Michael:

  I see that one of your featured titles is Marie, Marie, Hold on Tight by Terri Brown-Davidson. Terri’s been one of my favorite writers on the Zoetrope Writer’s Workshops for a long time. It’s excellent to see her finally getting some recognition. How did you discover her? Or did she discover you?

Beverly:

Terri’s utterly amazing narrative poem "The Carrington Monologues" was the first book I ever published (excepting the original series of Literary Potpourri anthologies). She and I met through her submissions to our ezine, and I became a major fan of her work. She sent me the manuscript at my request after I realized I was in the company of brilliance.

Michael:

How do I get her to autograph my copy of her book?

Beverly:

Not a problem. I’ll have her contact you. She’d be thrilled.

Michael:

I realize that in a way, this next question goes back to discussing magazine policies, but since it also deals with how you treat books, I’m going to take a chance. How would an author go about getting their book reviewed in Ink Pot?

Beverly:

Unfortunately, we have discontinued the old ezine Lit Pot, and we no longer do book reviews. Just not enough staff to coordinate and manage the work entailed, on top of everything else. Our website currently is a marketing site for the print journal as well as a nice place to read samplings of Ink Pot, and "Bonus" photography essays, His Nibs, Steve Hansen’s interviews with writers, and check in with Kathleen McCall’s charming column "Inklings." Our current focus is on the journal and our annual contests and bringing you a bi-monthly website that whets your appetite for more Ink Pot.

Michael:

Where do you see Lit Pot Press twenty years from now? Is it your goal to remain small, or do you have ambitions of showing Putnam just where they went wrong?

Beverly:

You’re joking! I’ll likely be dust on the bald head of an eagle by then. 20 years is a very long term projection, Michael! My ultimate goal is to get Ink Pot on the map as one of the best journals in the country. The press will take care of itself if we keep our eye on the promotion and support of upcoming talent. My main concern is that survival (financially) doesn’t compromise the creative process that is our joy in doing this. (So all donations are still accepted. We are a nonprofit corporation, so it’s deductible!)

Michael:

Well, thank you for your time, Beverly. I know I found your words of wisdom to be most insightful. Hopefully our readers will be every bit as illuminated as I feel right now. But I’ve got to get moving here. I need to get a short story in your hands before the next issue! Best of luck in your endeavors and may the ink always flow smoothly from your quill.

Beverly: Thanks for having me, Michael. I appreciate the invitation and wish you the best with your own writing. We’ve all chosen a wonderful way to live, I think.