Wabbit

Exhaustion has officially set in.

Gina Wilson’s Scissors, paper, stone is done. I love it. But then, I would.

Gill Andrews’ The Thief is at the printer’s. I love it. See above.

Exhaustion has officially set in.

Gina Wilson’s Scissors, paper, stone is done. I love it. But then, I would.

Gill Andrews’ The Thief is at the printer’s. I love it. See above.

The college term has ended. Things have been put in packets and posted to all sorts of people. New submissions have started to arrive.

I anticipated that the Michael Marks Award would result in more submissions. And that most of them would not have found their way to any submission guidelines on the website. I was right. Sigh.

No-nos for people sending poems to publishers:

1. Do not write, Dear Sir, Dear Madam or Dear HappenStance (insert name of publisher). Find the NAME of the person you are sending your stuff to.

2. Ensure you have read (REALLY read) some of the publications produced by that publisher, so you can mention them like you mean it. Otherwise forget it.

3. Remember, when sending your poems to a publisher, you’re asking them to  spend cash and time printing your work, for which they will get nothing but kudos. And probably not much of that.

If, after all that, you are reading this and considering sending some poems to me, send them anyway, but hey — subscribe to HappenStance first, if you haven’t already. It is inexpensive and it is worth it. Read Chapter 4. Know something about how things work here.

Having a few days off now. Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep beckons.

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