For your enjoyment: “The Sour Aftertaste of Dinner” by Richard Fein from 322 Review (submission deadline approaching soon)
Tuesday, August 4th, 2009The Sour Aftertaste of Dinner
by Richard Fein
The couple that was at the next table wore wedding rings, surely they were once in love.
But were they still soul mates or just two souls sitting side by side.
Menus covered their faces, avoiding the eye-to-eye.
The waiter took their orders and while they waited each kept behind a paperback novel.
From soup to salad to entree there was silence and neither shared from the other’s plate.
They both skipped desert so nothing sweet was on their table.
Only when their bill was being paid did their hands touch, accidently
They apologized, actually apologized to each other.
And as we watched, our own romance cooled to lukewarm.
But somewhere, sometime, on our way home,
we looked at each other and our eyes screamed not us, not us,
as we kissed deeply to wash away the sour aftertaste of dinner.
–
322 Review is the literary journal published by Rowan University’s MFA program. They publish 4 online issues, and 2 print issues (though the first print issue is the only one out yet. The next print issue deadline is August 15th, and electonic submissions are preferred at submissions@322review.org (up to 3 poems, each not to exceed 36 lines / Fiction up to 6k words, or 3-750 word stories, or you can tack a short-short onto a regular story in a submission). They also sound very open to mixed media work and hypertextual documents. Check out the website and see if its your cup of tea. I also really liked the poem Misplaced by Jill Jones. I had to read the line “placed after before / in the evening” a few times to get it, but I liked that. The method mirrored in the content of the poem. Or the other way around, whichever it is, it made me think a bit. A great indication of their ecclectic tastes when compared to the more straightforward Fein poem.



hate throwing away that little reminder that _______. <—- but what is that blank? I’m not sure. Is it that “there’s a lot to learn” that “hey, at least I’m trying” or is it something more Shakespearean about my words being immortal and when they’re revered I’ll be able to look back at the notes and marvel at how I persevered… do I need a safe deposit box where these rejection notes will be safe for my fantasy future self? I’m hoping that once I got past the initial, “hey, I sent out some work to be published, and even though it wasn’t I tried” (phase one of “hey, at least I’m trying”) phase, that I kept them filed and alphabetical (for the most part) out of some inner desire to be tidy that I’ve cocooned well, well away from my everyday messy habits. But I am a writer, and therefore inherently neurotic and a little vein, so I’m not entirely sure how pure my intentions are, and that’s a little scary, that tiptoeing around the phrase “narcissism” with the word “writer” as a buffer. I don’t know, I guess my mom used to keep the little “contestant” consolatory ribbon that they gave out in track and field every year. Right alongside the second and first place ribbons. In a box. Where my rejections are. That’s sane. Yes.
accept simultaneous submissions for poetry (for prose, however, they’re still ok if you aren’t a jerk and follow proper SS procedures ie- tell them immediately if smething they’re considering is accepted elsewhere). On the flipside,
rd business sized envelope (for your Self Addressed and Stamped Envelope. (That’s right, M. Doughty, join the 5% Nation of SASE), a brief cover letter that says the bare essentials of information for your submission (name, address, phone, email, like a 30 word bio, the titles of the piece(s) submitted, and you know, a little schmoozing goes a long ways. Now, don’t go overboard and gush and gush about a journal you’ve never read, but if you have read it before and can remember a piece from it, mention liking it. It’s just a little coutesy to the editors who have no clue if people are liking what they’ve chosen to include. Or, if you are familiar with an editor’s work, let them know what you liked. As a writer myself, I know the very few times I’ve ever heard about my work I’ve glowed about the compliment. It’s a rare thing to get an unsolicited compliment about your writing, and editors are people and writers too. Be kind to them. Great Writing- If you haven’t read much contemporary poetry, or fiction, try to read a copy of the journal you’re submitting to. Now, with the smaller journals especially, it can be hard to get ahold of one, and buying 20 different sample copies may be a little difficult, but at least, at least read a couple sample pieces on the journal’s website. Most have a couple posted to cut down on the inappropriate submissions. I’ve been guilty of submitting inappropriate work to journals, I think it’s part of the trial and error style of submissions that most novice writers go through before they learn the ropes from either an editor, a fellow writer, or another source (I highly recommend Poet’s Market for poets. It’s a tactile, and very helpful source that you can flip through while bored. It even lists a few writers who’ve been published there, so you can have something of a gauge even before you read it what they like, though most journals are ridiculously ecclectic. And finally, stamps. H
ere’s a simple guide: it is $1.17 for 3 ounces first class postage for your large manilla envelope along with a single page cover letter (for your own bennefit, don’t even come close to hitting a second page), and 6 more pieces of paper. Be it four single page pieces and one 2-pager, one six page piece, or whatever, 7 total pieces of paper. If it’s one more piece of paper you have to add an additional $.17 stamp. If you have 15 pieces, again, add another $.17 stamp, and so forth. Get these stamps from the post office, or wait in line to weight each envelop and mail them like that if you’re unsure about the postage. And never send it certified… journals don’t sign for submissions. It’s just not how they do it. Trust in the USPS, at least a little. And finally, you need some understanding of the journal publishing world. You don’t need experience, but knowledge that most journals can only (and I mean they only have the page space possible, regardless of quality) accept under 10% of the work submitted to them. So there will be a lot of rejection. Even famous writers… 