The One Thing Every Poet Gets Wrong About Submissions to Journals

Here's the submission mistake I see poets make over and over again, and it's killing their chances before editors even read their work.

They submit to lit magazines like they're throwing hot spaghetti at a wall.

I get it. Submittable makes it so easy to fire off your latest poem to thirty journals in an afternoon. Click, click, click—and you feel productive. You've "put yourself out there." But here's what's actually happening: you're wasting everyone's time, including your own.

The real strategy? Pick three journals that actually want your work.

This sounds obvious, but most poets skip the research phase entirely. They scroll through Duotrope's Database or The Review Review, looking for journals that accept simultaneous submissions and have fast response times. They're optimizing for the wrong metrics.

Instead, spend an hour—literally just one hour—researching each journal before you submit. Here's how:

Read the most recent issue. Not the website's sample poems from 2019. The actual latest issue. If you can't afford the $15 for a journal, you can't afford to submit there. That's harsh but true. You're asking them to invest time in your work; invest money in theirs.

Look for poems that share something with yours. Not identical themes, but similar energy, length, or approach. If every poem in the journal is experimental fragmented text and you write narrative sonnets, keep looking.

Check the contributors' notes. Are these poets publishing in places you recognize? Do they have similar career trajectories to yours? You want to be in conversation with your peers, not submitting to journals way above or below your level.

Pay attention to their editorial preferences. Some journals love political work. Others avoid it entirely. Some want formal poetry. Others think sonnets are dead. This isn't judgment—it's fit.

Once you've found your three journals, craft individual cover letters. Not personalized form letters—actual individual notes. Mention a specific poem from their recent issue that resonated with you. Explain why your work fits their aesthetic. Keep it short, but make it clear you've done your homework.

This approach feels slower, but it's exponentially more effective. You'll get more acceptances because you're submitting appropriate work to appropriate places. You'll get more meaningful rejections—sometimes with actual feedback—because editors can tell you take their journal seriously.

But here's the deeper reason this matters: you're building relationships, not just collecting credits.

When you submit thoughtfully to a small literary magazine, you're entering a conversation that's been going on for decades. You're joining a community of writers, editors, and readers who care about the same things you do. That's worth more than any publication credit.

The scatter-shot approach treats journals like vending machines: insert poem, receive publication. But literary magazines are run by humans who love poetry enough to lose money publishing it. They remember poets who clearly read and understand their work. They're more likely to consider your future submissions seriously. They might even reach out when they're putting together special issues.

I've seen poets get frustrated and quit submitting entirely because they're getting generic rejections from everywhere. They assume their work isn't good enough. But often, their work is fine—they're just sending it to the wrong places.

The best part? This approach scales like a MF.

Once you've built relationships with three journals, you'll start noticing which other journals they recommend, which guest editors they bring in, which contests they promote. The literary world is smaller than it seems, and good editors know other good editors.

Your submission strategy should mirror your reading habits. You probably don't read random magazines—you follow editors and poets whose taste you trust. You discover new journals through recommendations from writers you respect. Submit the same way.

So before your next submission round, ask yourself: Do I actually want to be published in this journal, or do I just want to be published somewhere? The first question leads to meaningful literary relationships. The second leads to rejection fatigue and a cluttered Submittable account.

Trust me, editors can tell the difference. And so can you, once you start approaching submissions like the serious literary practice they should be.