One of the difficulties in working on a national literary publication–or any publication, I imagine, is the waiting time. There’s an irregular mixture of passivity and activity in keeping the cogs turning and smoothly running.
For example, submissions. Right now, passively our editors are receiving the flow, flood, or trickle of pieces sent in. Actively, they have sent in solicits to known writers at the beginning of our reading period. Additionally, actively, they’re rejecting and accepting the submitted work. Passively, you are waiting to see who makes the cut.
Deadlines are the thing, you see, that gives it all a sinister bend.
Sometimes, these are easy to meet. When we’ve all got passive work, most likely. Sometimes they charge dauntingly toward us, head on like a game of chicken we can’t afford to lose. As loud as one might scream and as strenuously as one might tug out one’s hair, we’ve really got to take those mad deadlines head on.
I lay awake at night, trying to remember if I’ve managed to pack in all the work I needed to, or if the deadly screaming deadlines won out.
Much like Chuck Norris, Superstition Review doesn’t sleep…it WAITS.
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