But it seems more likely that most lit journals, first tier, independent, and electronic, have their limitations– all institutions become conservative over time, all editors are inclined in aesthetic toward their own idiosyncratic taste and all tend to like their friends work and be convinced *they* alone are the chosen few who have it right, and. And as much as that happens, people make new things, try new things, find a home for those things, and that imperfect process really isn’t so awful. I say that having seen all sides of it– a year ago, I had three hundred rejections and one publication in an e-journal of little consequence. I simply persisted, and now my work has covered all tiers (short of that Harpers/NY’er tippety-top) in twelve months, and having worked with all of them I have to say that all are pretty much the same. The truth is, there’s the work, and there’s all the other idiots, and if you’re doing the work and sending it out there an idiot or two might come around. Or not. But it’s actually not the fault of the world– all the mediocre lit journals and the occasional actual excellent one and the ones you think are fine because your friend started it, or you want to sleep with an assistant editor, or your work appeared there one time… those things will continue to exist. The electric journal world and the new ways of consuming print will eventually resemble the old system in large part– perhaps it all will be a little more democratic, less space between the author and reader, perhaps there will be more ability to ‘share’, perhaps new gatekeepers will exist, perhaps there will be greater diversity and we will all be linked into the great rhizome that is the web, but… the world will be the world, and writing will be writing, reflecting what is and what can be made to reflect or reify that. And there will always be a need to find readers and communities that fit the work.

But it seems more likely that most lit journals, first tier, independent, and electronic, have their limitations– all institutions become conservative over time, all editors are inclined in aesthetic toward their own idiosyncratic taste and all tend to like their friends work and be convinced *they* alone are the chosen few who have it right, and. And as much as that happens, people make new things, try new things, find a home for those things, and that imperfect process really isn’t so awful. I say that having seen all sides of it– a year ago, I had three hundred rejections and one publication in an e-journal of little consequence. I simply persisted, and now my work has covered all tiers (short of that Harpers/NY’er tippety-top) in twelve months, and having worked with all of them I have to say that all are pretty much the same. The truth is, there’s the work, and there’s all the other idiots, and if you’re doing the work and sending it out there an idiot or two might come around. Or not. But it’s actually not the fault of the world– all the mediocre lit journals and the occasional actual excellent one and the ones you think are fine because your friend started it, or you want to sleep with an assistant editor, or your work appeared there one time… those things will continue to exist. The electric journal world and the new ways of consuming print will eventually resemble the old system in large part– perhaps it all will be a little more democratic, less space between the author and reader, perhaps there will be more ability to ‘share’, perhaps new gatekeepers will exist, perhaps there will be greater diversity and we will all be linked into the great rhizome that is the web, but… the world will be the world, and writing will be writing, reflecting what is and what can be made to reflect or reify that. And there will always be a need to find readers and communities that fit the work.