How to get your writing published when you have no idea how the publishing world works

I'm on a mission to demystify the processes and pitfalls of how to get your work published

I’ve been submitting work to magazines and competitions for about five years and it’s taken me that long to stop being completely bamboozled by the myriad of processes and pre-requisites required. For a long time I felt as though not having a formal education in writing, or any friends in the writing world was really holding me back – getting work published felt like it was for an exclusive club that I’d never be a member of.

If you feel like this, then this article will be right up your street. Think of it as a gentle walk through a wood, with someone pointing out the stray branches before you trip up.

Woodland near the Lydebrook in Coalbrookdale.

Why submit your work for publication?

First things first – why submit to journals and competitions at all? Very few pay for the work you send, many competitions charge a reading fee (more on that later), there’s a lot of work involved and the utter despair that comes when your poem about the sex life of slugs is declined yet again (I have indeed written a poem about the sex life of slugs. It will find its audience.) Many people are entirely happy not sending work out for scrutiny or using online platforms to share their work and build their audience.

For me, the benefits are three-fold. I crave external validation and having work accepted by a magazine or anthology gives me what I need to keep going and keep improving my work. I know that the ideal is just to have confidence in what you do, regardless of what others think, but years of feeling “not good enough” take their toll.

The second benefit is that being published means I can get my work out to a wider audience. In-person events can be tricky to get to (and mildly terrifying), online events are ok but I’m deeply cautious about new people so am invariably silent. Having work in print means I know people are reading, with the added bonus that having people tell me they liked what they read is the best feeling in the world.

The third benefit is that I’ve discovered so many new journals and so many new poets. Reading is the key to being a great writer and subscribing to magazines or borrowing copies from the library has introduced me ways of writing I didn’t know existed. The lack of formal training feels less important now than it did when I began.

That’s the whys – for me at least. Let’s have a look at the hows.

Where to get your work published

There are a lot of lit mags out there. Some are niche, some less so. Some are incredibly well respected, some less so. Some pay, some don’t. How on earth are you supposed to find out about they exist, never mind all these details? Here are some of my favourite resources:

Robin Houghton’s quarterly round up of submission opportunities

Mslexia – a whopping 25 ways to submit all types of writing. They also produce the Indie Press Guide.

Sian-Meades Williams – incredible opportunities and dream jobs for writers in all genres

A dreaming skin

The Poetry Writers Handbook – I find this really useful and need to use it more. You can pick up a second hand copy for about £10.00

What do I need to do before I submit my work?

This is the bit that caused me a real headache when I started submitting work for publication. I was super nervous anyway, and suddenly there were all these extra requirements about fonts and spacing and pdfs. Surely my precious words were more important than these piddly details!

As I learnt more about the world of lit mags, and indie presses in particular, I gained a level of understanding that helped me not only tolerate these specifications but want to get them absolutely right. Realising that most editors are earn very little (if anything at all) from putting together these magazines for us to enjoy and realising that most lit mags are run on an absolute shoestring budget was like a light going on. Specifications about font, or number of lines, or spacing aren’t excess fussiness, or designed to make it harder to send work. They’re just there to make a tricky job easier. No more, no less. If me making sure I choose Garamond rather than Times New Roman or WingDings (is that still a thing?) can make life easier, then I’m absolutely going to do it.

Knowing why is all very well I hear you say, but how do I figure out what to do? Every magazine or journal has different requests and frankly it takes ages to figure them all out.

It does. There’s no way round it. Here are some things I’ve done to make it a bit simpler.

• Write each requirement down so you’re not flipping back and forth between tabs and Word.

• Think about making a list of requirements for those magazines you like to submit to often.

• Read and re-read to make sure you’ve understood exactly. There is nothing, nothing more exasperating than carefully altering a poem, reworking line breaks and spacing, only to find you’ve plumped for the wrong font.

• Attach the document

• Check it’s the right version. I have many drafts of the same poem and it’s super easy to get mixed up

• Check that you’ve attached the document

• Check you’ve included any other requirements like cover letters and bios

• Check again that you’ve attached the document

• Press send. Congratulate yourself!

What about all the extra things they ask for? Cover letters? Bios?

This was another “what the hell” moment - I’ve done all this and now I need to write more? And it’s for things I have no idea existed? I honestly found the bio the most excruciating thing to write – all those warnings about pride coming before a fall crowded my head, and writing about myself in the third person just felt weird. Like everything, I learnt it’s not as bad as I thought (are you spotting a theme?).

What to put in a cover letter

One of my favourite descriptions of a cover letter is “this needn’t be an epic piece of flattery, but it’s nice if you tell us your name”. The cover letter is just a way of introducing yourself to the editor – they’re going to be reading your innermost thoughts after all.

Here are somethings to include:

• Your name and contact details

• Their name – if you’re not sure then find out – most magazine websites have a “masthead” or “about” section. The editors names will usually be in there. If not try searching online. If you really, really can’t find out then Dear Editor will have to do.

• A sentence about why you’ve chosen to submit to their magazine. If you’ve had work published by them before you could mention this here.

• A sentence about why the poems you’ve sent may be right for this issue. Keep this super brief – you don’t need to explain the poems, just say something like “I noticed that this months issue has a theme of racing pigeons and I happen to have written several poems about Stassart pigeon” . I usually include a “I hope you enjoy them” too.

• Finish with a thank you – I really do think lit mag editors have a somewhat thankless task and the more lovely words said to them the better.

What to put in your Bio

Several years ago I took an incredibly useful workshop hosted by Spelt Magazine. One of the main things I remember is the idea that the bio is essentially your shop window. It’s how readers who’ve enjoyed the piece of writing they’ve just read can get an idea of where to find more of your work, what kind of things you write about and whether they might like to read them. It’s so simple but again felt so alien. The trap I fell into was listing everything I’d every published, with the vague idea that it would impress the editor. While it’s a good idea to include some of the places where you’ve had work, its also important to give a taste of who you are as a person – no mean feat in 100-150 words. I don’t think there is a wrong way to write a bio, it’s your hundred or so words about you after all, but bearing in mind the function of a bio helped me understand what to include and what to trim back.

Things you could include:

• Any particular themes you explore in your work

• Any particular influences

• Something you love and that inspires you

• Where people can find your work

• What you’re working on at the moment

To give an example:

This is the bio I sent for my first publication in 2018

Kathryn Anna Marshall is a freelance copywriter, a job she manages despite her M.E., which is a tremendous confidence boost. Before falling ill she worked in optical retail as an NVQ Tutor and manager. She tries to write every morning (“I’m a better person when I write”) but her creative time is often curtailed by her illness. She was selected for Nine Arches Press Dynamo mentoring programme earlier this year.

and here is my current one

Kathryn Anna Marshall is a poet based in Coalbrookdale. She is inspired by the landscape around and this underpins her work around grief, body image and inequality. Kathryn has M.E. and Bipolar II and her work explores the reality of living with these conditions. She also writes the occasional poem about cats.

Kathryn has been a columnist for Spelt magazine and has work published in anthologies and journals such as Mslexia, Popshot Quarterly, Lighthouse Journal and The Dawntreader. Her (as yet unpublished) pamphlet The daughter of a man who loved birds was shortlisted in Alchemy Spoon Pamphlet Competition and highly commended in the 2024 Geoff Stevens Memorial Prize.

Kathryn is fascinated by the connections between visual and written art and explores this by working alongside various artists as well as through poetry film. Her poetry film My death will grieve foxes was selected to be part of Stanza International Poetry festival 2024.

The key difference between the two is that for the second bio most of the personal detail relate to the work I produce. I’ve included a couple of background details too, as an insight to where my work comes from as well as a few of the places I’ve had work published. I don’t think there’s anything inherently “wrong” about the first bio, but in terms of giving an insight into my work and what someone could expect if they seek out more of it, it doesn’t give a lot away. My overriding feeling when I read it is that it’s written by someone who desperately needs a hug. Which I did (still do!)

Another tiny tip is to have a shorter version up your sleeve too. Word count varies and getting to the end of putting together a submission only to realise I need to reduce 150 words to 50 has almost been my undoing on many occasions.

Having work declined and staying on top of what you’ve submitted where

Now, I was going to talk about how to cope with having work declined when your self esteem is in minus figures, and how to keep track of your submissions and manage the costs when admin is your least favourite task in the whole world ( I do wonder if I should have taken up a different passion). This article is already the longest I’ve written on Substack, so we’ll wait until next time.

I hope this has been useful. I’m far from an expert, but I have learned a great deal about the submissions process over the last few years. Most of this has been by making mistakes and feeling incredibly frustrated by the opacity of the entire process. A little illumination goes a long way.

Here’s to demystifying

Until next time

Kathryn

xx