Hi j9-

I’ve never submitted to the Altantic but with rejections like that!

So sorry to hear about your post MFA blues, I’m sure I’ll be part of that club soon.

My only advice is to what you need to do (write, submit) even though you don’t want to. Even though you’re finding it all worthless/annoying/depressing, continue to go through the motions, I’m betting (hoping) at some point the old j9 will kick back in–

also sometimes when you’re in this place, it means that something is about to happen or you’re in a transition.

Remember the year I threw that big temper tantrum about why am I wasting my life sending out this chapbook, I just must like paying the postal service–that was the year my book was accepted.

And remember, every great artist, poet, writer, goes through periods like this. It’s the ones who stick it out that we remember.

sending you hugs and chocolate.
love
Kels

I kept re-reading your letter from the Atlantic to see if it contained the phrase “orphic utterances,” but no — it seems like a genuinely nice rejection. Did it have a p.s. that he would give you a more thorough critique for $295?

I have two absolutely wonderful rejection letter stories, though I have kept neither letter.

1. Rosebud poetry editor, John Smelcer, told me to re-work one of my poems because the last stanza was “absolutely perfect.” I was particularly pleased because I kept the final line as originally written rather than change it at the advice of several poets. I ended up keeping the rest of the poem the same, and it was recently accepted. I trusted he found something amiss with the previous stanzas, but I could not for the life of me figure out what or how to change it.

2. Alaska Quarterly Review sent me a two page hand-written note, telling me how much they respected my work, and would always want to see more. Sadly, I have only found occasion to submit to them twice more after that, and both times rejected without a word.

I’m pretty new at sending out submissions, but so far, I’ve gotten two really encouraging rejections. The first was from RHINO, the second from Spoon River. Both mentioned a specific poem and SR included a suggestion for revision. At this point, that was pretty exciting!
-Sara

Alas, I can’t offer suggestions, still being in the midst of my own MFA track, but wow! what a wonderful rejection note!

Hope things get better for you. Looking forward to HOTlanta.

I don’t know how some editors do it, getting back quickly and with substantial notes. I know I can’t, or haven’t yet been able to. Which is just another aspect of my own post-graduate student blues.

I haven’t really had any unusually nice (if that’s the word) rejection slips. I’ve mostly gotten the standard stuff, form letters or brief “almost” notes.

I’ve never been in an MFA program (or any grad school), so not sure if I can say anything relevant, but for what it’s worth —

For me the important thing (besides always continuing to write no matter what) has been to stay as close as possible to the sources of poems, whatever kind of experiences or perceptions or sensations bring poems toward shape.

In an interview Robert Bly once referred to that memorable phrase of James Joyce’s, “silence, exile and cunning.” In that connection, Bly commented that he felt that poetry, the essential urge to write poetry, often comes from some profoundly affecting experience, often deeply painful and wounding (though not always necessarily). Something anyway that seriously affects the character of one’s life in the world.

(In my own case, much of the basic impulse to write poems traces back to certain moments, when I was much younger, being aware of a great sad loneliness in public places, banks and train stations and parks and museums, not necessarily my own loneliness — though sometimes that — but loneliness as a quality of the world. This doesn’t mean I constantly write sad or lonely poems, but much of what I write in some way originates from that, ultimately.)

In this connection, Bly said that it’s very important for a poet to find a way to go back into that deeply affecting experience, frequently or regularly or at least periodically. I pretty much agree with this. That can sometimes have implications for how one organizes one’s life, though of course that varies a lot from one person to the next.

I agree also with one of the other commenters that “down” periods sometimes are just periods of underground fermentation or preparation, that it could mean something poetry-flavored is about to surface.

Come back to NewPages, babe – I’ll give you deadlines! Miss you!
-Denise

I think you need a long-deserved vacation–a visit to China! I even have a spare bedroom for the two of you!

I, too, have the post-MFA blues. I remember going into the MFA program believing that afterward, I would feel excited and refreshed and writing like a fiend.

I find that I’m lucky to get a poem out a month lately. And excitement has been hard to come by. I’m hopeful that it gets better.

Heh, my solution to post MFA blues? I think I mentioned it earlier . . . I bought a HUGE stereo system that put me into debt, so I had to worry about making money. That kept my mind occupied for awhile.

Some good advice, though . . . lots of folks have already mentioned it, but you need to keep yourself busy.

Also, the crew you went through your MFA with? They’re STILL your crew, just not around you. The web is a wonderful thing. Start a virtual poetry group. When I’m stuck, I lob a line or two at some of my poetry pals who are often in the same state as me. Anyway, if you need a swift kick, drop me an e-mail.

Congrats on the note, Jeannine! I can tell you that as an editor, I immediately wondered whether the poetry editor at The Atlantic gets a salary and budget. My guess on both counts is yes. Sometimes, no matter how dedicated the staff of a smaller publication is, we just don’t have the resources to do things the way we’d like. *But* I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say that the best work out there these days is in The New Yorker or The Atlantic. So, resources or not, there are good reasons for the little magazines to keep doing what they’re doing.

Just my 0.2 cents. 🙂

My best rejection was from, at the time, my dream journal—Poetry. Joe Parisi sent a 1 page thoughtful and encouraging letter saying he admired the poems and to please try again. I did and he took two.

My post-MFA letdown was just missing my poet friends all the way across the country. Other than that, I kinda love my post MFA life. I hope you do too, soon.