Literary Academy: The Numbers Game and a Call for Subs
The math is rarely in my favor...but it might be in yours
In the 1600s, groups of writers would gather for an evening of artistic expression and discussion. Known as a literary academy, the all-men or all-women groups served as a meeting point for sharing topics of philosophy along with art in the drafting process. This column honors that sentiment with thoughts on craft and writing.
I submitted to the Gutsy Novelist First Chapter Contest. They had 887 submissions and chose 21 as finalists. That’s a 2% acceptance rate. Mine was not one of the 2%.
In my recent rejection from Kundiman, they said that out of 700 applicants, they could only choose 2%.
From Hedgebrook, they said they could only choose 26 people out of the 862 applications received. That’s a 3% acceptance rate. As a comparison the selectivity of Harvard is between 2-3%.
VCCA didn’t give me numbers, but they said “this scheduling period was especially difficult due to an unprecedented increase in the number of applications. Applications for this scheduling period have increased over 100%.”
Willapa Bay AiR was another rejection, saying they could only offer residencies to 1 in 15 candidates. That’s a 6% acceptance rate.
When I applied to Tin House Workshops in 2022, they reported having over 1500 applications.
I believe good work rises to the top, but I also feel that the literary world has become myopic with the few big-name places, which are over-saturated with applications. I’m certain that this flux is due to the resulting years after the pandemic closures of these places, many which had to forego residencies or workshops for a full-year or provide their services in a remote manner for that cohort. Perhaps it will lessen. But then I see that great places like Catapult have closed down (well, the book publishing part is still open). And this worries me because if more venues close, then we will all be clamoring for only a few coveted spots. And there are so many people with amazing work that deserves to be read.
Am I sad? Yes. But this has also shown me that I need to find other avenues to join a literary community. The big-name ones are hard to break into. So I am making a plan to look into lesser-known residencies, ones that are full are partially-funded, but are not the ones everyone goes for.
In saying all of that, I want to bring up another numbers game: Hypertext Review.
Our contest is still happening, and our EIC has lowered the submission fee to $5. If you submit to our contest, you have a chance for your work to be selected for the $500 first prize. Second and third get $100 each. If you work does not place, your work is still considered for the journal, and we pay a $40 contributor stipend.
So here is my challenge to you: Choose one of your strongest essays you have yet to publish and take the next month and a half to get it to best it can be. Read good essays, examine their craft. Take walks and churn your ideas. Get feedback from people who know your work. Make revisions. READ YOUR WORK OUT LOUD! And then, submit to us before our deadline of May 31st. If you have a strong story burning in your belly and the gumption to really work on your art, I’m certain you will reach that lauded message that starts with “We’re pleased to inform you.”