Some flowers spread their fragrance in spring, some tease us until late summer: just when we think they’re dried up, spent, they surprise us with an explosion of blooms!
I’ve always had a soft spot for the late bloomers of literature. (Maybe because I myself identify as a late bloomer!) As thrilling as it is to read about young prodigies like S.E. Hinton of The Outsiders fame, (she wrote that book as a high school senior!), the late bloomers are just as amazing to me.
What is considered a late bloomer in literature? The general consensus seems to be a writer whose first major work is produced after age 40.
Debra Eve, publisher of the website Later Bloomer (now an archival site) has collected many fascinating essays and information about late bloomers in all fields of life, including literature and poetry.
Bloom (via Substack now) is another site devoted to the late bloomers in life.
This Write and Journal article states that late-blooming authors are more common than we think and why this may be a forward trend.
Eva Q. Tennant’s article on late bloomers shows how “the creative spark doesn’t dim with age — it deepens.”
One of my personal favorite literary late bloomers is Mary Wesley, who turned to writing adult fiction in her 70s and went on to write ten bestsellers in the last twenty years of her life! I learned of her work via the 1992 mini-series adaptation of one of her most well-known novels, The Camomile Lawn.
In poetry, there are many later bloomers, but one that may not come to mind is Thomas Hardy, whose early fame was built on his 14 novels, but who considered himself a poet and wrote poetry for 30 years before publishing his first collection when he was 58. After that, during the rest of his life, he published only poetry.
When I think of late bloomers, writer Winifred Watson also comes to mind, not because she was a late bloomer herself, but she wrote about an older woman experiencing a Cinderella-like transformation in Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, an experience that mirrored her own rise to fame in late life when her novel was rediscovered and republished by Persephone Books and made into a delightful film of the same name in 2008 starring the incomparable Frances McDomand. This article on Anne Sebba’s site discusses how Watson’s unlikely second act came about.
So tell me, who are some of your favorite late bloomers? Please share in the comments!
Many poets spend years submitting individual poems to journals, attending readings, participating in workshops, and building relationships within the literary community. These activities are valuable and often necessary. Yet at some point, many poets begin asking a different question:
“When is it time to put a collection together?”
For some writers, the answer arrives naturally. A group of poems begins to speak to one another. Certain themes emerge. Images recur. The manuscript starts to feel less like a collection of individual works and more like a conversation taking place across dozens of pages.
For others, the decision is more difficult. Many poets delay publishing a collection because they worry they are not ready, that they have not accumulated enough publication credits, or that they have not yet found a traditional publisher. While those concerns are understandable, they sometimes prevent writers from sharing work that is already prepared to meet readers.
One of the great misconceptions about poetry publishing is that publication itself is the finish line. In reality, publication is often the beginning of a new stage in a poet’s development.
A collection gives readers a place to go.
Someone may enjoy a poem in a journal, hear you at a reading, or discover your work through social media. A collection allows those readers to spend more time with your voice and ideas. It transforms a series of individual encounters into a deeper relationship between writer and reader.
Collections also create opportunities that individual poems sometimes cannot. A published book can lead to readings, interviews, festival appearances, workshop invitations, review opportunities, podcast conversations, and future publishing projects. It becomes a calling card for your work and a record of your growth as a writer.
This is one reason many poets discover that one collection often leads to another.
The process of assembling, revising, publishing, and promoting a manuscript teaches skills that carry into future projects. You learn how poems work together. You learn how readers respond to your work. You learn what aspects of publishing you enjoy and which ones you would rather delegate to others. Most importantly, you gain confidence from completing a substantial creative project.
Fortunately, poets today have more publishing options than ever before.
Some writers pursue traditional publication through independent presses, university presses, and literary publishers. This route can provide editorial support, distribution, and professional recognition, but it often requires patience. Many presses receive far more manuscripts than they can publish, and response times can stretch for months.
Others choose to self-publish. This approach offers complete creative control and allows poets to move forward on their own timeline. Modern print-on-demand services have made self-publishing more accessible than ever. However, self-publishing also requires authors to manage editing, design, formatting, distribution, and promotion themselves or hire professionals to assist with those tasks.
A third option involves working with a partner publisher, cooperative press, or author-services organization. These arrangements often combine professional support with greater author involvement and control. Depending on the organization, responsibilities and costs may be shared in different ways. For many poets, this middle path provides a balance between independence and guidance.
The best choice depends on your goals. Some poets value the prestige associated with a traditional press. Others prioritize speed, flexibility, or creative control. Still others appreciate a collaborative approach that allows them to remain closely involved in the process while receiving professional assistance.
Whatever path you choose, remember that a collection does not need to be perfect before it can be published. Every published poet can point to lines they would revise differently years later. Growth does not stop when a book is released. In many ways, publication simply marks the next stage of the journey.
This is particularly important for poets who find themselves waiting endlessly for permission to move forward. A manuscript sitting unread on a hard drive reaches no one. A collection in the hands of readers has the opportunity to create conversations, build connections, and leave a lasting impression.
That does not mean every manuscript should be rushed into print. Thoughtful revision remains essential. Feedback matters. Professional editing can strengthen a collection dramatically. The goal is not speed for its own sake. The goal is to avoid allowing fear, perfectionism, or uncertainty to keep a finished project hidden forever.
Many poets spend years hoping someone will discover them. There is nothing wrong with pursuing traditional publication, and many excellent collections find homes that way. At the same time, poets today have more choices than previous generations. If your work is ready, there may be more than one path to publication.
After all, the purpose of a collection is not simply to exist. It is to be read.
The poems you’ve spent years writing deserve the opportunity to find readers. And sometimes the first collection does more than reach an audience. Sometimes it gives you the confidence, experience, and momentum to begin the next one.
This concludes our five-part series on building a readership for poetry. We hope you’ve found a few ideas worth trying, whether you’re just beginning to share your work or preparing your next collection. We’d love to hear from you. Which strategies have helped you find readers? What challenges are you facing? And what topics would you like to see us explore next? Leave a comment below, connect with us on social media, or reach out through the Old Scratch Press website. Old Scratch Press exists because poets learn from one another, and we’d love your ideas for future articles and series you’d like to see us tackle.
NEW OPPORTUNITY
We’re also launching a new occasional contributor feature called “What’s One Thing You Wish Someone Had Told You?” Poetry is full of lessons we often learn the hard way, and we’d love to share some of that wisdom with the community. If there’s one thing you wish you’d known earlier about writing, submitting, publishing, readings, workshops, marketing, or the poetry life in general, consider writing a short guest article of 500-800 words.
Authors whose articles are selected will be featured on the Old Scratch Press website and along with a short biography, links to their website and social media, and one poem of their choice, whether previously published or not. Our goal is to help poets share both their experience and their work with a wider audience.
If you’re interested, send your article or proposal to guestpost@oldscratchpress.com. We look forward to learning from your experiences.
I’ve been on a lucky kick lately finding great books to read. I have a group of friends and relatives who love to read as much as I do, and we share book ideas almost every week. I’m not content when I don’t have a good book going. Often, when I am busy running errands, ticking off my list of appointments and other life tasks, in the back of my mind I am thinking: When I am done with all of this, I can go home and read my book! It’s my reward. My joy. My salvation. And I am clearly not alone. Many people love to read and there are some good reasons why.
Reading is very good for the health of your brain. Reading expands and strengthens neural pathways. It has been shown to improve memory. People who read regularly are better at retaining complex information. They concentrate better. This is because when you read you must focus your mind.
Reading also lowers your stress level and cortisol levels significantly. Even when you read for a short time, your heart rate slows and your muscles relax. Reading is likened to meditation. When you read you step away from your own life and your own unique anxieties. It’s a true calming of you mind even though your mind is busy. It’s believed to be better at lowering your blood pressure than listening to music or watching tv. If you read before bed, your mind gets the message that it is time to slow down. You are likely to fall asleep faster and sleep more deeply. Reading at night helps you push your own worries away.
There have been several studies that have shown that reading regularly provides some protection against cognitive decline and may even delay the onset of conditions such as dementia and Alzheimer’s. Long terms studies also show that reading increases your lifespan.
Another benefit to regular reading is that it makes us better people. When you read you experience all kinds of characters, lives, and places that improve your knowledge of the world and helps you have a better understanding of people who are different from you. People who have different lives and different beliefs. This makes you more empathetic. This translates into better relationships and social skills. Reading is a bridge to understanding others. Apparently, the most empathy comes from reading literary fiction as opposed to nonfiction.
It has also been shown that for people experiencing some forms of mild depression, reading self-help books can assist with recovery. Medical experts can provide a list of recommended books.
The world’s most successful and wealthy people are often avid readers with a strong desire for knowledge. Bill Gates. Oprah Winfrey. Elon Musk. Reading can also help with loneliness and social isolation because it often leads to book groups, whether face to face or online. Also, with public libraires and low-cost subscriptions for tablets, reading is not expensive.
Here is my recent list of books I would recommend. I enjoyed every word and I hope you do too. Cheers and keep those pages turning! Ginny
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.
Many poets begin writing in solitude. A notebook, a keyboard, a quiet room, and a handful of ideas are often all that’s required to start. Yet while poetry is frequently written alone, few poets build a lasting writing life entirely by themselves.
One of the most valuable resources available to poets is community.
For some writers, that community takes the form of a workshop. For others, it may be a reading group, an online gathering, a local poetry organization, or an informal circle of trusted readers. Whatever form it takes, a strong community can help poets grow, remain motivated, and continue writing through the inevitable ups and downs of the creative process.
Workshops, in particular, offer several benefits. They provide opportunities to receive feedback, hear how readers interpret your work, and identify strengths and weaknesses that may be difficult to see on your own. A thoughtful workshop can help a poet sharpen individual poems while also developing skills that carry into future projects.
At the same time, workshops are not simply about critique. Some of the most valuable lessons come from reading and discussing the work of others. Evaluating another poet’s choices often teaches us as much about writing as receiving feedback on our own poems.
For poets who have never participated in a workshop, finding one is often easier than expected. Local libraries, community colleges, arts organizations, independent bookstores, and writing centers frequently host workshops. Online options have expanded dramatically in recent years, making it possible to connect with poets from around the world without leaving home.
For poets wondering where to begin, there are more options than ever before. Local libraries, community colleges, independent bookstores, arts organizations, and state poetry societies frequently host workshops and discussion groups. Many literary journals, writing centers, and nonprofit arts organizations also offer virtual workshops that allow writers to participate from anywhere.
If you’re looking online, start by following organizations such as Poets & Writers, The Writers Center, local arts councils, and poetry organizations in your region. Facebook groups, Bluesky communities, and writer-focused newsletters can also help uncover opportunities. Don’t overlook literary events themselves. Many workshops are discovered through readings, conferences, and conversations with other writers.
As you explore, remember that workshops serve different purposes. Some focus on craft and detailed critique. Others emphasize accountability, encouragement, or community. Before committing to a long-term group, ask yourself what you hope to gain. Are you trying to improve individual poems? Complete a manuscript? Meet other poets? Build confidence sharing your work? The answers can help you find a community that fits your goals.
One final suggestion: don’t wait for the perfect workshop. Attend a reading. Join an online discussion. Participate in a one-day class. Introduce yourself to another poet. Literary communities are rarely built through a single dramatic step. More often, they grow through a series of small, consistent acts of participation.
When choosing a workshop, it is worth remembering that not every group will be the right fit. Some focus heavily on craft. Others emphasize encouragement and accountability. Some are highly structured, while others are more conversational. If one group does not feel productive or welcoming, that does not mean workshops are not for you. It may simply mean you have not yet found the right community.
Community also plays an important role beyond the workshop itself. The poetry world is built on relationships. The poets you meet today may become future collaborators, readers, editors, event organizers, or simply trusted friends who understand the unique challenges of the writing life.
Many opportunities arise through these relationships. Invitations to readings, recommendations for journals, introductions to editors, and collaborative projects often emerge through conversations within the literary community. While talent and hard work remain essential, few poets navigate the literary landscape entirely alone.
Perhaps most importantly, community helps sustain writers over the long term.
The reality is that poetry rarely offers immediate rewards. Publication may take months or years. Collections can require years to complete. Rejections are common. Audience growth is usually gradual. Writers who expect quick results often become discouraged.
This is where community becomes invaluable. Fellow poets understand the excitement of an acceptance, the disappointment of a rejection, the frustration of a stalled manuscript, and the satisfaction of finally solving a difficult line. They remind us that we are not working in isolation and that the challenges we face are shared by many others.
The most successful poets are not always the most talented. Often, they are the ones who remain engaged long enough for their work to mature. They continue reading, writing, revising, submitting, and participating in the literary world year after year.
This is the long game of poetry.
A workshop will not instantly transform your writing. Joining a community will not guarantee publication. Neither will produce thousands of readers overnight. What they can provide is something far more valuable: growth, support, accountability, and connection.
Over time, those small advantages accumulate. One workshop leads to stronger poems. Stronger poems lead to publications. Publications lead to readings. Readings lead to new readers and new opportunities. A writing life is rarely built through a single breakthrough. More often, it is built through years of showing up, learning, and participating.
If you’re looking to build a readership, don’t focus only on promotion. Invest in community as well. The relationships you build along the way may ultimately become one of the most rewarding parts of your poetry journey.
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet.”
~ Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, spoken by Juliet, Act 2, Scene 2
Today I am writing about a subject dear to my heart—choosing titles for poems.
The opportunity to name something you created should not be wasted. You’d think people would give this more attention than they actually do.
Back in the 80s, there was a best-selling book called The Name Game and its main premise was that your name was your destiny. If you wanted your child to be popular, excel in school and marry well, you had to be very careful what you named that little baby in the bassinet.
It would seem to follow that naming your poem merits some consideration as well!
To be clear, I’m no expert and I’m not denigrating any method you may be in the habit of using to choose your titles (or name your children!). But I have a keen interest in this subject and it seems to be a somewhat neglected area of discussion in poetry.
Just to see if maybe something on this subject was buried in books about writing poetry, I checked out a few classic poetry craft books: Ted Kooser’s The Poetry Home Repair Manual and Robert Pinsky’s Singing School. Kooser devotes a few pages to the subject. Pinsky mentions nothing about titles but does provide lots of examples of classic poem titles to peruse.
I then checked in the library catalog of a library of 2 million+ volumes, and only ONE book comes up under the LC classification subject heading: Titles of poems, it is a book called The Title to the Poem by Anne Ferry. She explores the subject in depth, asking questions like “Who gives the title? Who has the title? Who “says” the poem? Who “hears” the poem? What genre does the poem belong to? What is the poem “about”?” and considers the deeper aspects of titling poems: “There are complex relationships between what titles purport to tell and what they actually tell, and this is true not only of titles so worded that they demand interpretation, but also of those that appear straightforward.”
A title can anchor a poem in space and time, giving the reader some necessary context with which to begin reading and enjoying it. For example, a recent poem I wrote I entitled:
“Native, Antilles High School, Ft. Buchanan, Puerto Rico”
I could have just named it “Native” but the place and the time were very relevant to understanding the background of this poem, so the title’s subtitle in this case was very important.
Similarly, a poem entitled “An Evening Encounter at the Arecibo Observatory” gives the reader a lot of information, the time, the place, and the sense that this encounter is not going to be an ordinary one, given the nature of the place!
A title can lend specificity and a sense of fun at the same time: For example, “At the Mayan Monkey Mijas Chocolate Factory” (and yes, this place really exists!)
First of all, how can you visit a place called the Mayan Monkey Mijas Chocolate Factory and NOT write a poem about it and use that name in the title?? However, I later thought I really should have called it “Touring the Mayan Monkey Mijas Chocolate Factory” and that would have conveyed even more relevant information because I was a tourist, not someone who worked there or a local who regularly visited, for example. This title conveys a specific place (Mijas, Spain), history and culture (Mayan), fun (monkeys!) and sensory detail (the aroma of chocolate) and opens all sorts of questions in the reader’s mind, such as: What does a chocolate factory in Mijas have to do with Mayan monkeys?
“…titles are hard to get just right and do really important work–namely, a great title shows the reader how to read a poem.
A poem’s title is where the reader is introduced to a poet, an invitation from the poet into the depths of a poem’s magic. This is, essentially, the main job description of a title: to welcome its readers at the doorway of the poem and to draw them inside. However, the specific function titles perform can vary.”
“As a poet, I haven’t always put as much emphasis on titles, but working as a reader and then an editor for a literary journal really changed that for me. When I was in that role I had to read about a thousand poems over the period of two months. This is not an uncommon experience for editors or readers. I had to pick around ten poems out of all these poems to share with others. But after reading so many they all started to merge together in my mind. It didn’t help that a number of them had the same title. Sometimes I’d try and remember a poem I liked, but then ended up not finding it because while I remembered part of the poem I didn’t remember the title.”
This problem would be exacerbated during the judging of a poetry contest, for example, and could keep your poem from winning an award! Imagine a judge reading dozens of poems called “A Dream” for example and trying to remember which one they liked best!
I think the approach of giving memorable titles to poems helped me when, after winning the 2nd annual Writer’s Digest poetry award with “Respiratory Tech at the Vietnam Memorial, 1989,” (which conveyed the speaker, place and time) I followed it up several years later with “The Menopausal Mermaid Takes Medical Advice” which came in at #36, I think. If you keep in mind that the first contest had ~4200 entries, and was only in its 2nd year, so the entries probably ballooned afterwards to even higher numbers, the importance of a memorable title becomes all the more obvious.
I think the saddest thing I see is “Untitled” as a title. I’m sure there are many brilliant poems by that title (though I can’t think of any off hand), and of course many poets just use the first line of their poem as a title, as per Emily Dickinson (but then again, most of her poems were not meant for publication.) But I feel like not giving your poem a title is a lost opportunity to engage with your reader on a different level.
He does warn that any technique used too often can quickly become monotonous, though.
His final advice should resonate with any poet: “A title doesn’t have to be clever, poetic, or punchy — but it should be deliberate. It’s the invitation, the signpost, the spell. It’s the first poem the reader reads, even before the first line. So give your poems the names they deserve.”
One of the remarkable things about poetry is its ability to preserve moments that might otherwise slip away. A porch light at dusk. The smell of a summer garden. A conversation remembered years later. The people who shape us, even after they’re gone.
Gabby Gilliam’s debut collection, No Ocean Spit Me Out, is filled with those moments.
Across thirty poems, Gilliam explores family, memory, faith, grief, and the gradual process of becoming ourselves. Returning again and again to the landscapes of childhood and the relationships that continue to echo through adulthood, her poems remind us that our earliest experiences rarely leave us. Instead, they become part of the stories we carry throughout our lives.
What makes this collection especially moving is its honesty. Gilliam writes with warmth and clarity, allowing ordinary experiences to reveal extraordinary emotional depth. Whether she’s reflecting on family traditions, wrestling with loss, or finding beauty in everyday life, each poem invites readers to pause and recognize something of themselves.
As both a poet and novelist, Gabby Gilliam brings a storyteller’s eye to every page, creating poems that are richly imagined while remaining deeply personal. No Ocean Spit Me Out is a memorable debut from a writer whose work reminds us that our most meaningful journeys often begin at home.
If you’re looking for poetry that is thoughtful, heartfelt, and quietly unforgettable, No Ocean Spit Me Out is a wonderful place to begin.
Mention social media to a group of poets and you’ll likely get a wide range of reactions. Some embrace it enthusiastically. Others tolerate it reluctantly. A few would happily throw their phones into the nearest lake if they thought it would help them write more poems.
If you’re trying to build a readership, social media can be a useful tool. The challenge is remembering that it is a tool, not a destination.
Many writers approach social media with unrealistic expectations. They assume they need thousands of followers, viral posts, or a constant stream of content in order to be successful. In reality, most poets build readership the same way they build literary communities: slowly, one connection at a time. Poets with fifty engaged readers who genuinely care about their work are often in a stronger position than someone with thousands of followers who rarely interact with what they post. Readers matter more than numbers.
One of the most common mistakes poets make is treating every post as a sales pitch. Constantly asking people to buy a book, attend an event, or subscribe to a newsletter can quickly exhaust an audience. Social media works best when it feels like a conversation rather than an advertisement. Consider sharing parts of your writing life instead. Talk about a poem you’re working on. Share a favorite line from a poet you admire. Discuss a recent reading you attended. Recommend a literary journal. Celebrate another writer’s success. Give people a reason to follow you beyond the occasional book announcement.
It is also important to remember that not every platform serves the same purpose. Some poets enjoy Instagram’s visual focus. Others prefer Facebook groups, Bluesky, Substack, Threads, or TikTok. Rather than trying to maintain a presence everywhere, choose one or two platforms that feel comfortable and sustainable.
One of the most effective ways to use social media is to join existing communities rather than trying to build an audience from scratch. Look for groups dedicated to poetry, books, literary journals, reading challenges, independent publishing, or genres that align with your work. Readers are already gathering in these spaces. Your goal is not to convince everyone to read your poetry. Your goal is to find the people who already enjoy poetry and become part of the conversation.
The key is to participate as a community member first and a writer second. Read what others post. Offer encouragement. Share recommendations. Celebrate successes. Ask thoughtful questions. People are far more likely to become interested in your work when they know you as a person rather than someone who appears only to promote a book or drop a link. In other words, don’t treat social media groups as billboards. Treat them as communities. The strongest literary relationships often develop through genuine conversations that have little to do with selling anything at all.
Consistency generally matters more than volume. Posting once or twice a week for a year will often accomplish more than posting twenty times a day for two weeks and then disappearing for six months. Readers appreciate reliability far more than intensity. Social media can also be a valuable way to discover opportunities. Many literary journals, bookstores, festivals, workshops, and reading series announce events through their social media accounts. Following organizations you admire can help you stay informed about submission calls, readings, contests, and publishing opportunities.
At the same time, poets should be careful not to confuse visibility with productivity. It is possible to spend hours discussing writing online without actually writing. Most readers ultimately care about the poems themselves, not the number of posts that appeared along the way.
One helpful question to ask is this: “Would I still do this if nobody clicked ‘like’?” If the answer is yes, you’re probably using social media in a healthy way. If the answer is no, it may be worth reconsidering how much time and emotional energy you’re investing in the platform.
It is also important to remember that social media tends to reward attention-grabbing content, while poetry often rewards reflection, patience, and subtlety. A post that receives little engagement is not necessarily unimportant. Likewise, a viral post is not necessarily meaningful. The value of your work cannot be measured by an algorithm.
For many poets, the healthiest approach is to view social media as a bridge rather than a home. Use it to connect with readers, discover opportunities, support fellow writers, and share your work. Then log off and return to the page.
The poets who seem most comfortable online are often those who understand this balance. They participate in conversations, support their communities, and remain visible, but they do not allow social media to become the center of their creative lives.
In the end, readers are built through relationships, not algorithms. Social media can help create those relationships, but it cannot replace the work of writing good poems, supporting other writers, and participating in the literary community.
Use social media if it serves your goals. Ignore the pressure to be everywhere at once. Share your work, encourage others, and remember that the most important part of being a poet still happens away from the screen.
One of the joys of literary magazines is that they introduce us to work we might never have sought out on our own.
If someone had asked me whether I was looking for a poem about a pine-bark boat carrying a birthday-candle across a marsh under an equinox moon, I probably would have said no.
And yet here I am thinking about exactly that poem.
Morgan Golladay’s “Equinox Moon,” published in Instant Noodles Literary Magazine, is the kind of poem that reminds me why I keep returning to literary journals. It creates an entire world in just a few lines. We feel the cold leaching through boots and mittens. We see the still marsh. We watch a tiny handmade boat drift into the darkness carrying a small flame.
What I admire most is the poem’s quiet confidence. Nothing dramatic happens. There is no great revelation, no sudden twist. Instead, the poem trusts observation. It trusts atmosphere. It trusts the reader.
One image in particular stayed with me:
This tiny taper, though small,
is enough to banish the darkness.
The line works beautifully within the scene, but it also feels larger than the poem itself. We have all experienced moments when something small, a kindness, a memory, a friend, a poem, becomes enough to carry us through a dark stretch of life.
That ability to suggest more than it says is one of poetry’s great strengths.
Reading a little about Golladay afterward made the poem make even more sense. She has said that poetry works best when it is heard and that it should be concise, simple, and tight. “Equinox Moon” embodies that philosophy. Every image earns its place. Nothing feels wasted.
It also reminds me that literary magazines are not simply collections of writing. They are collections of discoveries. Every issue offers readers the opportunity to encounter voices, perspectives, and images they might otherwise miss.
That’s certainly what happened to me here.
If you haven’t visited Instant Noodles Literary Magazine recently, I encourage you to spend some time with the current issue. You’ll find poetry, fiction, nonfiction, humor, and artwork from writers and artists working in a wide variety of styles and genres.
You may come for one piece and leave thinking about another entirely.
That’s part of the magic.
Have you discovered a poem recently that stayed with you long after you finished reading it? What poem was it?
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.
OLD SCRATCH PRESS 