I’m really tired and feeling beyond crazy.
My brain is full of fuck and I’ve been unable to work on the self care thing the way I’d like so I’m leaving it alone until I can do it without fucking it up.
Rather than fuck up my thing I did some editing and submitting today.
I was pointed towards a couple of zines and I just, y’all.
I did some research as you do when you are checking out a new venue. The first thing that leapt out at me was I saw the word diversity in the about and faq a lot.
What I did not find in about 8 issues and the editors interview on Duotrope was the diversity.
So honestly if your diversity is made up of a textbook example of the Western Literary Canon excluding the few women, what the real fuck are you even talking about?
Since I have not been submitting, going back to it I just- I am growing this jaded disinterest that makes me so sad.
It is so exhausting to me to be reading magazines and understanding so keenly that my AAVE filled, no White people in sight stories don’t belong.
On the other hand I want to submit just to see if they get it or if I get another maybe if you adjust the language type rejection.
To say I am feeling some type of way about the publishing industry on the whole right now is an understatement.
This post is also brought to you by a situation I found myself in this week.
I don’t want to go into a lot of specifics but suffice to say, again my work was questioned on the basis of it not being about/in the realm of white men and it just makes me really sad and tired.
I’m feeling this way while trying to write uplifting beautiful things that come from my fucking soul and I just…I am so angry.
I will slog on but today, man.
Fuck the literary world and the white dudebros who can’t see past their own dicks.