a Great deal of unsolicited submissions i have read are memoirs. many many (sigh...Many!) people see their lives as memorable enough to expound on at great length and send to strangers.
as do i, right here and right now, in fact!. and you poor dear things who have happened upon this blog might well have to linger on these words (gods pray you have high speed!) until your anxious clickity click redirects you to more fruitful and informative webpages.
theoretically, i like this pretension; that so many aspiring writers are So thrilled with their own personal narratives and history, with the little things in life,that they feel it worthy of pen and paper (so to speak) and public consumption.
but still. the task of selecting for publication is an inevitable one. not everyone is gonna make it between the dustcovers.
how Wonderful it would be to be able to come up with the Perfect words to describe a submission as worthy, but not appropriate for publication.
i am hereby making it my new goal to come up with the perfect rejection letter!
this sounds, perhaps, immensely nihilistic and downright rude. but think of it; think of how progressive we would be in communicating with each other if we could make it apparent that all things/people are Important, and Loved, and Significant, whilst at the same time saying that their correct place is "some other publication"?
HOW HOW HOW? i think towards the small compassion debate a few postings down; that compassion involves ferocity, and i feel sometimes that that is true.
perhaps people need a distinct sense of what belongs in the world at large and what belongs in their heads and only in their heads. for the good of the World instead of their Egos.
the next consistent submission topic, the one which makes me feel weighty and ponderous, is the people who have lost a loved one. so many people who have lost loved ones turn to writing to attempt to understand their grief, come to terms with their grief, understand how it has affected their lives. if i ever needed any more proof of the Magic that is the craft of writing, it is reading peoples' submissions about their lost partner, parent, or loved one to cancer or myriad other mortal ailments.
the same worry occurs, how to make people realize how Truly Truly important their stories are, whose publication would be the most obvious way of acknowledging that worth.
but this is what worries me, dear reader(s). is this some strange plague? that the only outlet for so many peoples' grief is putting it to paper and sending it to strangers? or, as is fast definitely becoming a plague (at least in my synapses) posting some blog somewhere in cyberspace in the hopes that someone will read and sympathize?
what exactly is the therapeutic aspect of having someone share your grief? there is one, i have NO doubt in my mind, i know for a Fact. and i believe that it is Grossly underestimated in the world, and not condoned or encouraged in the way it should be. but what is it? what does it accomplish, sharing the darker sides of one's psyche with others? and when is it "no longer suitable for publication"?