Always craving a crack of the whip and a new scar. The mark of a true poet. We do it to ourselves all the times, but Bashaar’s piece really sums up what we writers secretly think all editors really do.
As you can imagine, being an editor I am also a complete sadist. Nothing gets me going more than rejecting an innocent (“innocent”) young writer’s chapbook manuscript. In truth, it annoys me that social niceties dictate that I must say things like “I wish you the best of luck in placing your manuscript elsewhere” because when I’m lying in bed at night it’s the thought of poet tears upon multiple rejections that soothes me to sleep.
And poets, I know you’re all just masochists. I mean, come on, you talk about submitting all damn day, and no matter how mean editors are to you, no matter how low your acceptance rate, you claw your way towards acceptance. And you pay editors money to keep on telling you no.
So let’s cut the crap. Why dance around what we all know? You poets want to be abused, and lord knows I…
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