Building a Readership: Five Paths for Poets, Path 2.

PATH 2: Literary Journals

Why Literary Journals Still Matter

When poets talk about building a readership, literary journals are often one of the first recommendations they receive. Yet many writers, especially those outside academic circles, wonder whether journals still matter in an age of websites, social media, and self-publishing.

The short answer is yes.

Literary journals remain one of the most accessible ways for poets to introduce their work to new readers, establish publishing credentials, and become part of the broader literary conversation. While publication in a journal rarely leads to instant fame or large sales numbers, it can help create the foundation upon which a readership is built.

For many poets, journals provide something equally important: discovery. Readers who may never have encountered your work otherwise can stumble across a poem in a magazine, become interested in your writing, and begin following your career. Editors, event organizers, workshop leaders, and fellow poets often discover new voices through journals as well.

If you’re new to submissions, finding journals is easier than ever. Resources such as Chill Subs, Duotrope, Poets & Writers, New Pages, and the Community of Literary Magazines and Presses (CLMP) maintain extensive databases of literary magazines and submission opportunities. Many journals also maintain active social media accounts where they announce open reading periods, special themes, and contests.

One of the most common mistakes beginning poets make is submitting without first reading the publication. Whenever possible, spend some time with a journal before sending your work. Read several poems. Pay attention to the styles, themes, and voices the editors seem to favor. Not because you should imitate them, but because you’ll gain a better sense of whether your work is likely to be a good fit.

Many journals now accept submissions through online platforms such as Submittable and Moksha. These systems make it easy to track submissions, but they have also increased competition by making it easier for writers to submit widely. Rejection remains a normal part of the process. Even accomplished poets accumulate large numbers of rejections throughout their careers.

At some point, every poet encounters the question of reading fees. Some journals charge a small fee, often between two and five dollars, to help cover administrative costs, software subscriptions, and staff expenses. Others operate entirely without fees. Opinions vary widely on the practice. Some writers avoid reading fees altogether, while others are comfortable paying modest amounts to support journals they respect.

There is no single correct approach. However, poets should be thoughtful about where they spend their money. A small fee for a well-established publication may be reasonable. Paying large amounts to submit work to unknown organizations is generally less advisable. As with any publishing opportunity, it pays to do a little research before opening your wallet.

Another decision involves print versus digital publications. Some poets strongly prefer print journals because they enjoy seeing their work in a physical publication and because print journals often carry a certain prestige. Others appreciate the accessibility of online journals, where poems can be discovered by readers around the world with a simple click.

The truth is that both formats offer advantages. Print journals provide permanence and a tangible reading experience. Online journals often offer broader reach, searchable archives, and the possibility of sharing links directly with readers. Many respected literary publications now operate in both formats, making the distinction less important than it once was.

It is also worth remembering that publication credits are not merely lines on a résumé. Every journal publication expands your visibility. A handful of well-placed poems can lead to invitations to readings, relationships with editors, opportunities for future publication, and readers who may eventually purchase your collection.

For poets considering a future book project, journal publication can be especially valuable. Individual poems published over time help establish a track record of activity and engagement within the literary community. They can also provide useful feedback about which poems resonate most strongly with readers and editors.

At the same time, don’t fall into the trap of believing that journal publication is the only path to legitimacy. Many excellent poets publish widely in journals. Many others build readership through readings, workshops, social media, teaching, community engagement, or independent publishing. Literary journals are one tool among many.

Ultimately, journals matter because they help connect poems with readers. They provide opportunities for discovery, conversation, and community. For poets seeking to build a readership, submitting to journals remains one of the most practical and effective ways to begin sharing work beyond their immediate circle.

If you’ve been considering submitting your poetry, start small. Find a few journals you genuinely enjoy reading, study their guidelines, and send your work into the world. Every publication began with a first submission, and every poet who appears in a journal today was once a writer nervously pressing “submit” for the very first time.

Building a Readership: Five Paths for Poets, Path 1.

PATH 1: Building a Readership Through Poetry Readings

When poets talk about building an audience, the conversation often turns immediately to social media, websites, and marketing strategies. While those tools can certainly help, many poets overlook one of the oldest and most effective ways to find readers: reading their work aloud.

Poetry began as an oral art form. Long before poems appeared in books, journals, and websites, they were shared through voice and performance. Even today, a strong reading can create a connection that no social media post can match.

Many poets hesitate to participate in readings because they assume they need a published collection, a large following, or years of experience before they are ready. In reality, most reading communities welcome poets at a wide range of experience levels. Open mics, community events, library programs, and local literary gatherings can all provide opportunities to share your work.

If you’re wondering where to begin, start by looking close to home. Libraries, independent bookstores, arts organizations, community colleges, literary festivals, and local writing groups often host readings and open mics. Social media can also help uncover opportunities. Follow poets, literary journals, bookstores, and writing organizations in your region and pay attention to the events they promote. You may discover that there are more opportunities to share your work than you realized.

Don’t overlook virtual events. Organizations such as Poetry Super Highway, The Writers Center, Poets & Writers, and many regional poetry groups regularly host online readings and open mics. Event calendars on Poets & Writers and Eventbrite can also help uncover opportunities throughout the year. Many poets have built meaningful friendships, readerships, and professional connections through virtual events they attended from their own living rooms.

screenshot of poets and writers event calendar

The benefits extend far beyond the reading itself. Every event introduces you to people who care about poetry. You meet other writers, potential readers, organizers, editors, and booksellers. Over time, these connections begin to form a literary community around your work.

Readings can also help you become a stronger poet. A poem that works beautifully on the page may reveal weaknesses when read aloud. Awkward phrasing, confusing transitions, and unnecessary words often become more obvious when spoken. The audience’s reaction can also teach you a great deal about how your work is being received.

One common misconception is that poetry readings only matter if they lead directly to book sales. While selling books is certainly welcome, the larger goal is visibility. Readers are far more likely to remember a poet whose work they have heard than a name they happened to scroll past online. Every reading plants seeds that may grow into future opportunities, whether that means invitations to other events, journal recommendations, workshop connections, or eventual book purchases.

For poets who are shy or nervous, it can help to start small. Attend a reading before signing up to participate. Read a single poem at an open mic. Volunteer to share work at a workshop or community event. Confidence grows with practice, and most poetry audiences are remarkably supportive.

If you have a collection available, bring copies. If you maintain a website, newsletter, or social media account, mention it briefly. Have a simple way for interested readers to stay connected. The goal is not to deliver a sales pitch, but to make it easy for people who enjoyed your work to find you again.

Perhaps most importantly, remember that building a readership happens one reader at a time. Very few poets wake up to discover thousands of devoted followers. Most audiences are built through repeated acts of showing up, sharing work, and participating in the literary community.

A successful poetry reading is not measured solely by the number of books sold or the size of the audience. Sometimes success looks like a conversation after the event, an invitation to read elsewhere, or a single person who tells you that your poem stayed with them long after the evening ended.

Poetry is meant to be read, but it is also meant to be heard. If you’re looking for ways to build a readership, consider stepping up to the microphone. You may discover that your next reader is already sitting in the audience.

Poetry is meant to be read, but it is also meant to be heard. If you’re looking for ways to build a readership, consider stepping up to the microphone. You may discover that your next reader is already sitting in the audience.

Just as importantly, be willing to sit in the audience yourself. Attend readings even when you’re not on the program. Support fellow poets. Listen carefully to their work. Literary communities thrive when writers show up for one another, and some of the most meaningful friendships, opportunities, and collaborations begin simply by being present. The poets who consistently support others often find that support returned when it is their turn to step up to the microphone.

Do you know of a virtual event that readers can apply to? Leave it in the comments, and we’ll share it!

Should You Self-Publish Your Poetry Book?

One of the most common questions poets ask is whether they should self-publish their work or pursue traditional publication. Unfortunately, there is no single answer that fits every writer. The best choice depends on your goals, your audience, and what you hope to achieve with your collection.

Traditional publishing offers several advantages. An established publisher may provide editing, design, distribution, and marketing support. Publication through a respected press can also carry a certain level of prestige and may help introduce your work to readers who would not otherwise discover it. The challenge, of course, is that poetry collections can be difficult to place. Many presses receive far more submissions than they can publish, and acceptance often requires patience, persistence, and a willingness to face rejection.

Self-publishing offers a different path. It gives poets complete creative control over their work, from the selection of poems to the cover design and publication timeline. Rather than waiting months or years for a response from a publisher, authors can move forward when they feel their manuscript is ready. For poets who have already built an audience through readings, workshops, social media, or literary journals, self-publishing can be an effective way to connect directly with readers.

Some poets choose a middle path by working with a partner publisher or cooperative press. In these arrangements, authors may receive professional support with editing, design, production, and distribution while maintaining a greater degree of involvement and creative control than is typical in traditional publishing. Depending on the organization, costs, responsibilities, and royalties may be shared in different ways. For poets who value both collaboration and independence, this approach can offer an appealing alternative.

Regardless of the path you choose, publishing comes with responsibilities. Self-published authors often become project managers, responsible for editing, design, formatting, distribution, and promotion. While modern publishing platforms have made it easier than ever to produce a book, producing a professional-quality collection still requires time, effort, and attention to detail.

Cost and sales expectations should also be part of the decision. Most poetry collections sell modestly, regardless of how they are published. Traditional publishing may reduce or eliminate upfront costs for the author, but royalties are often lower and advances, when offered, tend to be small. Self-publishing allows authors to retain a larger share of each sale, but they are usually responsible for expenses such as editing, cover design, and formatting. Before choosing a path, it is worth considering not only how you want to publish your collection, but also who you expect to buy it and how you plan to reach those readers.

Another factor worth considering is where you are in your writing life. Many poets who choose self-publishing or cooperative publishing are not necessarily doing so because they failed to secure a traditional contract. Often, they are at a stage where they no longer wish to spend years waiting for permission to share work that feels ready. They want to hold the book in their hands, place it in front of readers, and move on to the next project.

At the same time, younger poets sometimes underestimate the opportunities self-publishing can create. A professionally produced collection can help establish a readership, create speaking opportunities, and serve as a foundation for future publishing projects. Publishing independently does not close doors. In some cases, it opens them.

Some poets hesitate to publish independently because they worry it will make them seem less legitimate than poets associated with universities, MFA programs, or established literary presses. Those concerns are understandable. The literary world can sometimes feel hierarchical, and it is easy to conclude that certain credentials matter more than the work itself.

In reality, good poetry emerges from many places. Many wonderful poets come out of MFA programs, universities, and literary journals. Poetry has always been larger than academia.

What is also true is that many poets outside those circles sometimes feel excluded, intimidated, or invisible. It can be easy to assume that publication by a university press or admission to a prestigious program automatically makes someone a better poet.

Yet poetry’s history tells a more complicated story. Whitman wasn’t an MFA. Dickinson wasn’t an MFA. Frost wasn’t an MFA. Bukowski wasn’t an MFA. Mary Oliver wasn’t an MFA.

The truth is that poetry has many rooms. The university is one of them. It isn’t the whole house.

There is also a reality that many poets, regardless of publishing path, eventually discover: marketing is largely the poet’s responsibility. Traditional publishers can help, and some presses do far more than others, but few poetry collections succeed because a publisher does all the promotional work. Readers connect with poets who are willing to participate in readings, interviews, social media, literary events, newsletters, podcasts, and conversations about their work. Whether your collection is traditionally published, self-published, or released through a cooperative press, your willingness to help readers discover it will have a significant impact on its success.

Perhaps the most important question is this: Why do you write poetry?

If your primary goal is to secure a publishing contract, your path may look very different from someone whose goal is to share meaningful work with readers. Most poets do not begin writing because they dream of contracts, advances, or industry recognition. They write because they love language, because they have something to say, or because poetry helps them make sense of the world.

A publishing contract can be gratifying, but it is not a measure of artistic worth. Many talented poets never receive one. Publication decisions are influenced by timing, editorial preferences, market considerations, and simple luck, not talent alone. Failing to secure a traditional publishing deal does not make someone a failed poet. Likewise, receiving a publishing contract does not automatically make someone a great one. The quality of the work and the commitment behind it matter far more than the path it takes into the world.

For many poets, the goal is not to generate significant income, but to be read. We spend countless hours shaping language in the hope that a poem will connect with another human being. Whether that connection happens with ten readers or ten thousand, there is something remarkable about knowing your words have found a home in someone else’s mind.

A well-crafted collection that finds its readers is a success, regardless of the path it takes to get there. Poetry isn’t really complete until somebody reads it.

What has your experience been? Have you self-published poetry, pursued traditional publication, or explored both routes? We’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

Family Secrets, Lost Histories, and the Stories We Carry… Free Live Zoom Today!

Some families have stories they tell over and over.

Others have stories they never tell at all.

Tonight, Current Words Publishing welcomes Susan Burgess-Lent, author of When All the Girls Stopped Singing, for a special Reader Series event exploring hidden histories, family secrets, and the stories that shape our lives.

Join us live on Zoom at 7 PM Eastern (4P Pacific) for conversation, reading, writing, and community.

Susan will discuss writing about lost, forgotten, and hidden histories, read from her novel, and answer audience questions. We’ll also offer a short writing prompt, an optional Pass the Mic session for readers and writers, and some attendees will win an autographed copy of When All the Girls Stopped Singing.

Whether you’re a writer, a reader, a family historian, or simply someone fascinated by the secrets hidden in ordinary lives, this is an event you won’t want to miss.

The event is free, but you’ll need to reserve your spot.

We hope you’ll join us.

Thank God I’ll Never Be Famous Enough for a Biography.

This week in the New York Times there is an article about Mark Oppenheimer writing Judy Blume’s biography. When he began the project, so he says, she liked him and gave him access to her life and her circle, etc. When he sent her the draft, she no longer liked him or the book he was writing about her. Apparently she sent him quite a big pile of notes, and contact ceased soon after that. He published the book anyway. He, and book’s narrator, Molly Ringwald, feel like Judy has to put up with his book, and that Mark did a fine job. According to the NYT article, Molly said, “There might be moments that Judy doesn’t like or agree with, but overall I think it’s a respectful treatment of her and her literary significance.” And, “If Mark didn’t show Judy’s flaws or humanity, it would be hard to feel invested.”

At what point does your life stop being your own? I might argue it’s when you become a parent. But, eventually they grow up, and you get to pivot back to yourself somewhat. Mark could have written the book with, or without, Judy’s help, and that’s the danger of being that level of author, but the fact that she gave him permission at first, and then was unhappy with what he made of her life, gives me pause. How much do we own our own life story?

The NYT made the main photo of the piece one of Mark sitting in a bunk bed. I don’t like this. He’s not at the age, or in life circumstances where he would actually be the person who sleeps in that bed. To me it is a ploy to make him look more innocent. I don’t think he is. I’m disappointed in Molly. For full disclosure, I read a bit of Judy Blume as a kid, from Margaret to some of the adult books, most of them for the sexy bits, honestly. Hey, I was in middle school. But, with apologies to Judy, I have seldom thought of her since. I tried reading Margaret to my daughter when she was in middle school, and we both found it didn’t age well. Plus, my daughter was not raised with the same religiosity I was. So there’s that for the longevity of the book in my life. And anybody can write a biography of anybody. The trick, like it is with our own books, is to get people to read it.

Still, do Mark, Molly, and his publishing company have the right to own Judy’s story, to make the truth of Judy’s life Mark’s version of the truth?

I say no. I say this is another woman losing agency over her own body, life, and body of work, to a man and a corporation. And it seems her only recourse might be for Judy to write her autobiography, to set the record straight. I cannot imagine anything as boring as writing out my own life story. And believe you me, I’ve had a fascinating life. Ha! Whether I have or I haven’t, I’m not ready to relive it all like I’ve had a near death experience. No, no no.

So, whose life is it anyway?

I would love to hear your thoughts.


Dianne Pearce is the chief editor and bottle washer at Current Words Publishing, and the half-cocked imaginer behind Old Scratch Press and Instant Noodles. Pearce loves helping writers realize the dream of having their work published. I mean she is really crazy about doing that for some reason. To that end, to join in the fray, to look at the thing from the other side, to stand in another’s shoes, and all of those things, she is fully expecting and promising to publish her first collection of poetry, In the Cancer Cafeteria, spring of 2026. Please don’t hold your breath. For very long. Happy 2026!

What Do You Think of That “Poet Voice?” You Know the One.

If you’ve ever been to a poetry reading, you’ve probably heard it. The slow cadence. The dramatic pauses. The slightly mystical tone. The voice that signals: I am now doing Poetry.

In fact, when I think about that sentence read in “poetry voice” it would be read like this:

The voice
that signals
I am now
doing
poetry

And each line would end with an up tone, as if the performer was asking a question.

The recent New York Times article digs into this phenomenon, often called the “poet voice,” and asks why many poets fall into the same stylized way of reading their work aloud.

For some listeners, the article says, that way of reading feels comforting and familiar. For others, awkward, distancing, or makes the poem feel like a performance ritual rather than a piece of language meant to connect.

The article points out something important: this isn’t just about aesthetics. It’s about how poetry exists in two worlds at once. On the page, poetry is quiet, private, intimate. Out loud, it becomes physical, embodied, communal. Voice, breath, pacing, silence, and tone all reshape meaning. The same poem can feel completely different depending on how it’s read.

And yet, many readings sound strangely similar.

Why?

There’s also a bigger tension here. Poetry has deep roots in oral tradition. Long before books, poetry lived in voices, memory, and storytelling. But modern literary culture often treats performance and “serious writing” as separate worlds. Spoken word, slam, and performance poetry are seen as different categories entirely, even though they’re doing what poetry has always done: using voice to create meaning. They also might sound different, as performance, when compared to how people read on the performance evenings in your MFA program.

I remember, from the first time I saw poets read aloud, at a bar in Philadelphia in the 1990s, thinking that it was weird that many of them read their work in the same way, and wondering why they did.  When I was in my MFA program, and we would read our work at student readings, us poets, fellow students, often read that way. I remember it as mainly the other white women, and that the students and teachers/established visiting poets, could be people who did it. Not that all of them did it, you understand, but that it happened at times among student readers, teacher readers, and visiting poet readers, and it was, in the main, done by my fellow white women. I don’t remember the guys reading that way. I also remember that the teachers (minus a few) and the students in the poetry track were incredibly serious about the writing and performing of poetry. I don’t know that I ever got quite that serious, which is probably a character flaw. You know I’ve got me some of those.

On Threads people are losing their minds about the article (slow news day?) so, let’s talk about it:

• When you hear poetry read aloud, does it deepen your connection to the work or pull you out of it?
• Do you think “poet voice” is a real thing, or just a stereotype we’ve internalized?
• When you hear poetry read aloud, does it deepen your connection to the work or pull you out of it?
• Have you heard “poet voice?”
• How do you read your own work aloud? Casually, dramatically, flat, musical, conversational?
• Should poetry readings sound like performance, conversation, or something else entirely?
• Is hearing the poet’s voice an added layer of meaning, or an intrusion on the reader’s imagination?

Could you….
drop your thoughts….
in the comments?

The Writer’s Brain: Creativity and Neurodivergence

From my collage notebook

There’s a certain stereotype about writers: distracted, dreamy, maybe a little moody, often lost in their own heads. Then there are those of us whose third-grade teacher writes on her report card, “Ellis is very sensitive. She says she doesn’t feel good when she doesn’t want to participate and sometimes puts her hands over her ears.”

What we don’t always name is that many of us identify with something more specific—ADHD, anxiety, depression, OCD, autism, bipolar disorder. In other words, neurodivergence.

Far from being a barrier, these brain patterns often come hand-in-hand with creativity. Our ability to notice connections others overlook, to hyper-focus on a project for hours, or to sense language at a heightened level can all be part of what makes us writers. (Doesn’t everyone have a list of words they hate simply because the way the word feels in their mouth?)

The Double-Edged Sword

Of course, the same brain that gifts us with creative leaps can also work against us. ADHD can make finishing projects feel like climbing Everest. Anxiety can whisper that nothing we write is ever good enough. Depression can steal the life-force necessary to even begin. The very sensitivity that makes us attuned to metaphor and meaning can leave us overwhelmed by the noise of the world.

Reframing the Narrative

Instead of treating neurodivergence as something to battle, what if we reframed it as part of the writer’s toolkit?

  • Hyperfocus can become a superpower for deep revision. Or help you finish the book!
  • Restless energy can fuel bursts of freewriting that break past creative blocks. That, and dance breaks.
  • Heightened sensitivity can deepen character work, dialogue, and description. As long as you remember to take breaks.

The key is learning how to manage the edges—finding rest, support, and strategies so that the gift doesn’t become a burden.

Practical Ways to Support Your Creative Brain

  1. Chunk your writing time. Short, timed sessions (15–25 minutes) can harness focus without overwhelming you.
  2. Write rituals, not rules. A small ritual (lighting a candle, stretching, a playlist) helps train your brain to enter writing mode.
  3. Name the inner critic. Literally give it a name or persona so it loses power over you.
  4. Seek community. Writing groups, workshops, or even online spaces help balance the solitary nature of the work.
  5. Honor rest. Brains that run hot need recovery time. Pushing the pause-button isn’t failing—it’s part of the process.

Why It Matters

When we share openly about the link between writing and neurodivergence, we create permission for others. Permission to stop beating themselves up for struggling with deadlines. Permission to see their “quirks” as part of their artistry. Permission to make choices others might not understand. Permission to write anyway.


Do you identify as a neurodivergent writer? How does it show up in your creative process—both the gifts and the challenges?

Ellis Elliott

Founding member Old Scratch Press Poetry Collective

Author of Break in the Field poetry collection and A Witch Awakens: A Fire Circle Mystery.

https://a.co/d/eMSe9up

https://a.co/d/7J1ra9x

http://bewildernesswriting.com

Steps Toward Your First Acceptance in a Literary Journal

Steps Toward Your First Acceptance in a Literary Journal

To my fellow writers out there, I began submitting prose and eventually poetry to literary magazines in 2014. Since that time, I have been published over a hundred times. How did I do it? I learned the ropes and never gave up. More importantly, I never wrote for the purpose of being published. It’s an honor, a wonderful feeling, to have a piece accepted, but in the end of the day, the real joy for me as it is for most writers, is the creative process. Publishing is a very small piece of this magical puzzle. Even so, as writers, most of us would like our work to be read so here are some tips I learned along the way.

  1. Present your best work always. If you have written something, set it aside for some time and return to it later for perspective. ALWAYS have feedback through a professional writing group. One or two friends reading your work will not do. You need professional critique and then you must listen and learn to edit accordingly. None of us can judge our own writing. We simply cannot. Don’t let your ego get in the way of your success.
  2. Prepare a third-person biography. Include information like your location, your publications if you have some, your social media handles and website. If you have not been published, simply say nothing about that or mention that this would be a debut publication. Don’t try to be funny or clever. Be professional.
  3. Prepare a cover letter and keep it simple and professional as well. Address the editor by name if you can. Start with something like: I appreciate the opportunity to submit my fiction story titled “Wind Warp” of 4900 words. Follow with your biography. End by thanking the editor for considering your work. That’s it.
  4. Make a list of journals where your work appears to be a fit as you prepare to submit your work. This will mean reading some of the work the journals have accepted in the past. Lucky for us, many journals are online now or have some excerpts online. Consult resources by Erika Krouse or Clifford Garstang for a ranking of literary journals. 
  5. At first, I tried to select mostly smaller, well-respected journals for the bulk of my submissions. Once I got some traction, I aimed higher. If you can find a local journal that limits submissions to local writers, even better.  One example of this is Philadelphia Stories, a journal that only publishes writers who are living in or originally from Pennsylvania, Delaware or New Jersey. A smaller pool helps your odds. There is nothing wrong with submitting to a new journal either. In fact, I recommend it. New journals need our support.
  6. I would send a piece to at least twenty journals to start with and see how it goes. 
  7. Use standard manuscript format 12-point font Times New Roman. Double Space prose. Single Space poetry. And don’t forget page numbers. 
  8. Be encouraged if editors write you a personal note about enjoying your work even though it was not accepted or asking you to submit more work in the future or telling you that you made it to the final cut. All of these are a very big deal so be happy!
  9. You will receive a lot of rejections. I submitted for about a year and a half before I received my first acceptance. Since then, I have had times where I have been “hot” and times of drought. Don’t give up and don’t get discouraged. There are many reasons a piece is not chosen that have nothing to do with the quality of the writing. You get used to the rejections. Promise me. The way I look at it is this writing that I am submitting is what I have to offer. I’ve got nothing else! This is me. I write what comes to me and what I want to write about. Above all, I just hope to tell a good story. I give every poem or story my all. There have been stories that I never placed, and I am okay with that. Some of these did get out in the world in later collections of mine alongside published stories. Be true to yourself and what your heart wants to write about and you will be fine.
  10. Do not follow up with inquiries about your work after it is submitted. If you don’t hear anything for a year, consider the piece unaccepted and move on.
  11. Make sure you keep a list of all the places you submit a piece so when you do have an acceptance, you can quickly withdraw it from other journals considering your piece.  
  12. Remember too that when submitting to always follow the guidelines such as whether the journal wants to read blind or not. 
  13. Set up a Submittable account because most journals use that now for submissions although some still have their own Submission System or they accept submissions via email only.
  14. Another good idea is to go out for dinner and some glasses of wine with fellow writers submitting their work to share your experiences. Laughter is the best medicine, and you can learn from each other. 
  15. I wish all of you the very best in your writing journey!

Virginia Watts is the author of poetry and stories found in The MacGuffin, Epiphany, CRAFT, The Florida Review, Reed Magazine, Pithead Chapel, Eclectica Magazine among others. She has been nominated four times for a Pushcart Prize. Her debut short story collection Echoes from the Hocker House was short listed for 2024 Eric Hoffer Grand Prize, selected as one of the Best Indie Books of 2023 by Kirkus Book Reviews, and won third place in the 2024 Feathered Quill Book Awards. Please visit her.

Virginia’s new book is now available from Old Scratch Press:

Her prior poetry chapbooks Shot Full of Holes and The Werewolves of Elk Creek 

 are available from Moonstone Press. And her debut short story collection Echoes from the Hocker House is not to be missed!

In October OSP will present a live reading with Virginia, Anthony Doyle, and Alan Bern. Find more information here.

And it’s not too late to get into the last Instant Noodles issue for 2025!

It’s Not Too Late for Gravy

The holiday/end of year issue of INSTANT NOODLES, the issue where we always ask people to try for humor. Do you have what it takes to make us smile?

Submissions for 2025 are open through November 2, 2025.

The Old Scratch Press team asks that all fiction/non-fiction pieces adhere to a word count of 1,000 words or less. 

2025 Themes and Topics

GRAVY is our 2025 winter holiday theme. Give us your best holiday gravy fails, mishaps, ridiculous gravy encounters (any December holiday, from Hannukah, to Solstice, to NYE, etc.) or your best wry work about gravy, in general. The point of the end-of-year issue is always to be light-hearted to downright silly. Submissions for GRAVY are open through NOVEMBER 2, 2025; the issue will publish on DECEMBER 1, 2025. Please CLICK HERE to submit. We’re looking for short fiction, non-fiction, poetry, drama, art, and multi-media.

INSTANT NOODLES is always free to submit to, and free to read. We’re about to announce the pieces that were published that we’re submitting to BEST OF THE NET and PUSHCART, so stay tuned to this station!

Thanks for being an INSTANT NOODLES participant and/or fan! We appreciate you giving indie authors a place to get read!

Look Over Here!

Sitting on a bench sharing a coffee with old friends in a little northern Pennsylvania village, I saw it for myself. How much poetry in public places matters, even there, in remote mountains, where only about a hundred people reside year-round. Dangling from the willing arms of trees, laminated cards with phrases from poems or short poems that captivated both young and old. Children read them to each other aloud. Adults stopped on their morning walk to pause, read, reflect, nod, sigh or smile. Even some hard to please teenagers stopped their bike tires to read. What I didn’t expect to feel is how much it meant to them and to me. Poetry matters, folks. It matters big time. All writing matters. The Arts make all the difference in the world. 

            This little town is reflecting other larger movements to display poetry in outdoor places from around the world. Many people have heard of the Poetry in Motion initiative launched 1992 by the NYC Metropolitan Transportation Authority and the Poetry Society of America to bring poetry to millions of harried and stressed commuters. Poetry was displayed is subway cars and digital screens in stations. Each poem was accompanied by artwork. By 2002, 150 poems had been shared from all over the world, spanning the centuries. The poems reached out and met people in their own busy lives and enriched them. Readers reported looking forward to a new poem. They would snap pictures and send them to their friends. The world was different, changed and better.

            The Poetry in Motion Initiative was relaunched in 2012 under MTA Arts and Design. You can visit their website to read poems and learn of upcoming programs. Over 30 other US cities launched similar initiatives in the wake of Poetry in Motion including Philadelphia, LA, Nashville, San Francisco and Providence. Public poetry has popped up in many other places such as cafes, libraries, playgrounds and picnic tables in seven national parks thanks to Ada Limon our 24th Poet Laureate who championed the idea of transforming picnic tables into public art by including a historic poem with some connection to the park. 

            There is also a Facebook page “The Poetry in Public Places Project” that encourages everyone, you and me, to display poetry outdoors. You can visit this page to enjoy creative and inspiring ideas. For example, from Hoboken, NJ, a photo of a box of poetry where people are invited to TAKE ONE, yard signs from the Mercer County Library System, a poem painted on a breakwater in Milwaukee. 

             I wondered what poems went first in the NYC Poetry in Motion. There were four of them. “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry” by Walt Whitman, “When You Are Old” by William Butler Yeats, “Let There Be New Flowering” by Lucille Clinton and one of my favorites. Enjoy this poem and cheers to more poetry in the open air and hope!

—Ginny


“Hope” is the thing with feathers

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.

                                                                Emily Dickinson


If the New York Subway System asked you for a poem, what would you write?


Virginia Watts has been fortunate to have published nearly 100 pieces in literary magazines including CRAFT, The Florida Review, Reed Magazine, Pithead Chapel, Permafrost Magazine, Broadkill Review, Two Thirds North, Hawaii Pacific Review, Sky Island Journal, Eastern Iowa Review, Evening Star Review and Streetlight Magazine. Nominated four times for a Pushcart Prize and four times for Best of the Net, in 2019, Watts won The Florida Review Meek Award in nonfiction.

Virginia’s new book is now available from Old Scratch Press:

Her prior poetry chapbooks Shot Full of Holes and The Werewolves of Elk Creek 

 are available from Moonstone Press. And her debut short story collection Echoes from the Hocker House is not to be missed!