Julie Matysik (Yamanashi-ken, 2006-07) is a freelance copy editor and aspiring in-house editor who recently moved to NYC with her husband (also a JET alum). She has just started an internship in editing/publishing/writing. Editorial Pursuits chronicles her job hunting efforts, experiences and lessons learned.
As part of my internship, I’ve been entrusted with reading what we like to call “slush”-unsolicited manuscripts that, almost 99% of the time, come to find an impersonal rejection letter folder in a neat and hopeful self-addressed stamped envelope. Now, normally I like to consider myself a very fair, open-minded, and kind individual; I especially love being introduced to new books, authors, genres, etc. However, when it comes to reading “slush,” I feel a demonic, elitist monster overtaking my body.
That said, this is not the first time I’ve been asked to read through various query letters, synopses, and sample chapters. At an internship I held at Cream City Review literary magazine in Milwaukee, WI I also read short story manuscripts and about half of the time, I passed the manuscript on to a fiction editor for their feedback. So I don’t know if the frustrations with not being able to find a permanent publishing job in the so-called “Mecca” of publishing (a.k.a. NYC) or my need to assert some pent-up dominance over faceless members of the human race or maybe a little bit of both has launched me into this maniacal slaughter of the hopes and dreams of well-meaning, all-trusting, aspiring authors or not. All I know is that when I sit down at square glass-topped table in our tiny cubical-esque office and open the “slush” log and start reading queries and manuscripts, I am no longer a sweet, Midwestern girl but a grade-A literary critic.
Don’t get the wrong idea: I’m not necessarily proud of my elitism when it comes to reading what I deem as “substandard” or “amateurish” attempts at prose. (I occasionally find something in the heaping stacks of papers which catches my eye, piques my interest, and leaves me wanting to request the full manuscript for review-in the past two weeks I’ve requested two such stories for further reading.) But I do feel a sense of secret pleasure feeling as though my self-proclaimed literary expertise is allowed to come out of its proverbial cocoon and stretch its wings in the cool breezes of power. If I didn’t know before that, in addition to enjoying exposure to new and exciting literature, I craved the ability to choose what is truly worthy of the title “slush” and what has greater potential, I definitely have no misconceptions of it now.
Now onto what I’ve learned from this epiphany (since it seems that out of each situation I inevitably learn something): it’s extremely rewarding when you find yourself in a situation (in my case, an unpaid internship at a small literary agency) where you take pleasure in what you are doing. And even though I know this might not be what all you writers out there want to hear (that “little people” at glass tables are most likely reading your work while reaching for the Xeroxed rejection letter), don’t sink too far into depression. As I’ve also learned from my current experience, every “slush” has its chance-and some leave the reader ready for more.
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