The bad apples are out there in every field and occupation, and the publishing world has plenty of those wormy, half-trodden, utility apples lying about the orchard. The vast majority of editors and writers have amazing, productive, inspiring relationships, or at least working acquaintanceships, or at the VERY least they don’t hate one another, but sometimes those wormy bad apples come calling from both sides of the publishing lines.

I don’t intend for this to be a gripe session, not at all, but I do want to hold up some apples to the light and examine them with the hope that it makes the writing world a happier place to be. And it’s important to remember that these are cautionary tales, not the norm—so with that in mind, here are some things that bad-apple editors and writers should both stop doing immediately to make this publishing life a little easier on the rest of us.

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Dear Editors: Knock it off with the rude rejections. I’m happy to say that I only received one such reply, from an editor who told me “poets who write about writing poetry are un-publishable today” in a rejection, which, depending on the magazine, may be true, but he also said, “Never submit here again.” Whoa. It was my first submission to them, but okay, point taken. You don’t dig my work. Still, I think I’d rather get an e-mail that just said, “No” than one with extra lip. And while that’s the worst of it for me, I’ve heard some surprising tales from writers I trust about obnoxious, pretentious, and downright nasty rejections. We’re not talking form rejections (which are so common that it’s annoying to hear writers get annoyed about them), but rejections that have straight up said, “You have to be kidding me if you think this is any good.” (That’s taken from an actual friend’s rejection. She saved it, just in case she ever got famous. I would too.) Another writer was mocked for admitting her taste for Salinger and was called “God-hating” and “un-American.” Yet another Facebook friend informed me that not only was his work rejected with a side of “This work is awful,” but the editor went on to try to sell him a book about successful writing techniques the press just released. That’s not just rude, but it’s a fine example of extremely pitiful marketing. Let me say this just once, my dear editors: You are never so talented, so successful, or so “rebellious/bad-ass” that you have the right to be rude or cruel to any writer, no matter how supposedly untalented or unknown they may be, just because they had the gall to respond to your call for submission. Professionals keep their cool and move on. Don’t be rude.

On the Flip Side

Dear Writers: Knock it off with the rude replies to rejections. Unless your reply is something in the “Thanks for your time” vein, it’s probably not a good idea to reply at all. But if you feel slighted and you decide to get some payback, even if the editor was a jerk, it will lead to nothing but trouble. For starters, you’re not going to change a jerk’s mind. Not ever. Second, that jerk may not be acting like one and the rejection may have just come across poorly via e-mail and you’re starting a war over nothing. Third, even if you are justified, that editor will 100% every single time pass your name on to other editors and writers. I know SO many editors who have received angry replies to simple, innocuous rejections, and all of those editors talk to each other, just like writers talk about jerk editors. The publishing world is small enough that if Kevin Bacon were a poetry editor for Red Fez, we’d all be able to play Two Degrees of Kevin Bacon and probably include 90% of the world’s millions of writers. It’s just a bad idea, so please stop writing nasty replies to editors. Just like editors, dear writers, you are never so talented or so “bad-ass” that you have the right to be nasty to an editor who rejected you. You’re just making things worse for everyone else.

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Dear Editors: Enough with the extraneous e-mails. There’s nothing worse than submitting to a magazine, getting a rejection, and then getting two e-mails a week from that magazine about upcoming issues, new books by contributors, or general updates from the editors. It’s one thing to support a press or to hear from them a few of times a year, but it’s another to feel like you just joined a cult. If you keep writing your accepted/rejected authors asking them to buy the new issue, asking for donations, or even asking for help paying some personal bills (as one author said he experienced), then you’re going to develop a reputation as a panhandling press and will find yourself on more “blocked e-mail” lists than Jerry Sandusky. (Is that reference already too old? Damn.)

On the Flip Side

Dear Writers: Enough with the extraneous e-mails. Writers, I assure you that the magazine’s editors are happy you submitted your work. But they are not your new BFFs, and you should not e-mail them every single time you have posted a new blog, uploaded a video of you reading to YouTube, released a new chapbook, or had a bowel movement. Please, enough with the needless e-mails. You will only alienate those editors, and as I already said, in the publishing world, news of this kind of writer gets around faster than a racist Justin Beiber cell-phone video.

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Dear Editors: Get rid of your complicated guidelines. Every now and then I stumble across a lit magazine with submission guidelines that read more like a technical manual for a Rube Goldberg contraption than advice for how to attach three poems to an e-mail. I’m actually seeing less and less of these kinds of guidelines, thanks to things like Submittable, but as sure as it’ll rain again I’ll find a set of guidelines that read something like “Submit up to three poems with no more than 32 lines per page but no less than 17 and no more than three pages total per poem in individual Corel WordPerfect 97 files in 12.5 Ariel Unicode MS with the title of your work in each header but no name anywhere except in a cover letter written in the third-person person and including all titles of your work and an explanation of how you found our magazine, your top favorite living poets, and only after buying a copy of our latest issue, for which you must send an envelope with proper postage inside an envelope with proper postage to the address below with a money order (no check, no cash) and then go to our magazine’s sister blog and sign up for our newsletter to be entered into our submission pool, which also entitles you to receive updates about our monthly reading series, The Dead Birds That Litter My Bedroom, held at the Jamba Juice on 87th Street and 10th Avenue.” What? No. And that’s actually a pretty clean version of some of the things I’ve seen at magazine websites. I’ve tried to keep Hobo Camp Review’s guidelines as simple as possible, and while Rattle’s guidelines page seems long, they’re pretty direct and offer clear instruction too. Just remember, you don’t want to make writers feel like they’re filing their taxes. It should be simple, because your rigorous guidelines are not weeding out people who “aren’t dedicated enough to care about the process,” but rather weeding out talented people who don’t have the time to deal with your meticulous obstacle course. I’d rather prop my front door open with a broken brick and let the people flood in and cherry pick the talent rather than wait at the top of a garret for someone to figure out the hidden clues on a treasure map in order to submit their poems. Keep it simple, and your pool of talent becomes expansive.

On the Flip Side

Dear Writers: Please follow the damn guidelines. Oh my god—writers, follow the damn guidelines. If they seem complicated, don’t bother and move on to a different magazine, or slow down and take the time to get it right. Nothing is worse for an editor who likes to open an e-mail and see the poems right there pasted into the body than to open an e-mail and see a link to a blog and a note that says “Take your pick,” or an e-mail with fifteen poems attached in individual files, along with three YouTube video links, a four-page bio, and … okay, okay, I’m getting an aneurism just typing this. Take the five minutes to read the guidelines, follow them, and submit. Your chance of getting into a magazine skyrockets when you do.

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Dear Editors: Please close your submission window. An open letter to TriQuarterly posted at the Sundress Publications blog was making the rounds recently concerning the fact that TriQuarterly editors were rejecting submissions without even opening them. Umm…full stop, right there. That's rude as hell, and I’m not interested in hearing any explanation as to why this is now the policy—not that you’re understaffed or that too many submissions came in or anything. Even if you narrow your submission window to one hour a week, if you are still getting so many submissions that you cannot even open them, much less reply, you’re doing it wrong. So so wrong. Close your submission window for a couple of months, or bring in interns, or just…anything but admit that you’re not even reading the submissions before deleting them. That’s a giant middle finger to writers who took the time to read the magazine, the guidelines, and submit their work. Too busy? Close your transom. Or end your publication. There are plenty of other good ones out there itching to take your place in the food chain.

On the Flip Side

Dear Writers: Please stop submitting over and over (and over). This is the equivalent of having a good friend tell you, “He’s just not that into you.” After ten, eleven, twelve rejections from the same editor, you have to realize that it’s not working out and you’re better off putting your energies elsewhere. I’ll say this: I did reject a writer over at Hobo Camp Review three times over an 18-month period before he sent me a great poem that really knocked it out of the park. So diligence is one thing. Obsession is another. There’s a difference, and it’s a glaring one. Example: There was another writer who used to submit two or three submissions per issue, even after I asked him time and again to please stop doing that. Poem after poem poured in, for years, and I finally had to block him. If you are really determined to get into X or Y publication, read that magazine, work on your craft, and send your best work, but please don’t throw spaghetti at the wall for every meal. You’re making a mess.

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Dear Editors: Be professional once you accept our work. If you make a promise, follow through. If you get our name wrong, adjust it promptly. If you butcher the layout of the poem, please fix it. It’s the writer’s responsibility to send you quality work and follow your guidelines, so it’s the editor’s responsibility to make sure that work is shown off to the world with some professionalism, and not as if the works in your magazine are just dog turds on a sidewalk. This a big one because once the acceptance is sent, communication can get scarce with a publisher/editor. I’ve experienced numerous examples of this, one being a magazine promising $5 per poem after accepting three of them. They published the poems, and then never paid and never replied to e-mails again. Another UK magazine accepted two poems, and over the next three years promised they’d appear in the next issue and never did. I asked to have the poems back in order to submit elsewhere, but they insisted the poems appeared in the last issue. I bought the issue, they weren’t there, and I e-mailed again for verification…no reply. That was a four-year ordeal that never panned out over two little poems. I’ve spoken to a number of authors that also have trouble with payments, jumbled works in the publication, typos, etc. The vast majority of editors work so damn hard to get it right and to build relationships with writers and readers, but there are a few bad apples who are making it rough on everyone. Don’t be a bad apple. Be a pro.

On the Flip Side

Dear Writers: Quit it with the ‘Silent Partner’ treatment. So the magazine you submitted to didn’t rip you off with an absurd reading fee, was pleasant in correspondence, accepted your work, paid you (lucky you!), and didn’t publish your work so it looked like someone spilled alphabet Spaghettios all over the page. Great! Now please help that editor by promoting the issue and magazine in general. Post on Facebook, Twitter, your blog, e-mail your friends and family, buy an extra copy, send a thank-you e-mail, and generally be a good publishing partner. Some writers seem to fall off the map when an editor publishes their work, and not only is that disappointing (because, as an editor, you want writers to be excited that they appear in your magazine) but its a little rude, too. No, being silent isn't the worst thing a writer can do, but helping to spread the word is a professional courtesy that will earn you Karma points, and it's also good for your own writing career, so why wouldn't you? This is a community. Be a part of it.

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Bonus: Reading Fees and Supporting the Small Press: My long-standing, visceral, and snarling reaction to any magazine that charges reading fees for general submissions was going to get a long entry earlier in this post, but I’m having a slight change of heart after doing a little research and finding that the majority of magazines that do charge reading feels at least offer decent per-page payments for authors and have higher payouts for contests. That’s okay in my book, and when this is the case, I could justify paying a few bucks. Not that I've paid any yet, but I could see doing so in certain cases. However, there are still some magazines that are charging $20 or more, such as The Missouri Review, for a submission. That’s…pretty steep. They also published a letter (a little outdated, but it’s still up) in which they called submission fees paid by writers a “revenue stream” that they need to take advantage of, just like every other business model. Doesn’t that just make your little hearts flutter with pride and joy, fellow artists? Anyway, they do also offer a year’s subscription with that, if you want one, but I don’t care to subscribe to every single magazine I submit to. If I did, my apartment would end up on the next season of Hoarders. On the flip side for this one, writers, try subscribing to a few magazines you submit to…it's only fair that we do actually support the literary magazine world so good publications don't disappear and reading fees like these don't become necessary or the norm. So let's all get out there and support the small press world by buying some issues now and then, okay? Thanks!