Editor Interview: Annulet

Forms keening closely.

Publications I admire include Chicago Review, New England Review, The Poetry Project Newsletter, A Public Space, Denver Quarterly (I was on staff for five years and I love it dearly!), The Carolina Quarterly, baest, Contemporaries AtPost45, Ecotone, and both Changes Review and Press. Presses include Action Books, Rescue Press, Fonograf Editions, The Song Cave, Spiral Editions, DoubleCross Press, Dorothy: a publishing project, Futurepoem, 1080 Press, Ugly Duckling Presse, and Unicorn Press. And of course there's more...

I publish poetry and literary criticism, and though I think less in terms of preference and more in terms of curiosity, as in, who might I be most interested in lately—some of my favorite writers rain or shine include C.D. Wright, Lorine Niedecker, Harryette Mullen, Brian Teare, Renee Gladman, Elizabeth Hardwick, Simone White, Timmy Straw, dg nanouk okpik, and Robyn Schiff.

In my view, Annulet offers both invitation and welcome to those readers who write critically, and writers who read critically. The reality that I know as a poet, critic, and scholar, is that each of these practices aren't as separable as traditional boundaries would have it, and Annulet is a journal that revels in how these forms weave in and around each other. Though our essays in particular are scholarly at heart, they're distinctly fun, or too weird for peer review, in practice. Sometimes the most interesting insights and observations don't make it through the strict parameters of scholarship or criticism: Annulet values these just as much, if not more, than being technically perfect. When reading poetry and prose submissions, I read historically—I'm looking to see how work might fit or extend its respective lineage, as I see it (whether conscious or unconscious on the writer's part!), and how that work represents what's happening in poetry or prose at this very moment, too. Particularly the poetry we publish is very conscious of form, in its visual rhetoric and relations as well as how it attends to the thought or feeling the poem is following. We probably have an alarmingly weird standard for prose: most often we're not looking for bread-and-butter fiction, if you will—its vision and language must be as important to the story or text as the events that may or may not take place. In sum: we like work that you think might be too weird to be published, but is both more and less weird than you expect.

I like to tell those who ask that the reason I started Annulet in part was because during the pandemic, I missed asking people at dinner, or at the bar, about their literary interests, because that's where you'd hear their most authentic opinions and answers. That's the starting point I imagine one could take for undertaking an essay or review for Annulet. My other advice stands not just for Annulet, but in general: after you've read 10-15 (minimum!) pieces that the journal's published, or if in print, at least two print issues (yep!), think of between 3-5 qualifiers that describe the nature, genre, mood, or some other outstanding feature (not quality, just most noticeable to you) of the work that you've read. Then ask yourself which pieces of your work, if any, might appeal to either the aesthetic tradition the journal plays into (particularly if it's a periodical with rotating staff), or might join the same conga line (sorry, maybe I mean hang out in the same place) as what you've read. It's delicate hedging, I know! But don't be intimidated by that. And further, that doesn't mean don't send something from left-field, particularly if the journal is one like Annulet that values the outsider, experimental, or singular—in that case, you should send it. I know there are some common notes that secretly appeal to me, and that specifically includes work by writers from the rural U.S. southeast, and historically-oriented poetry—but definitely not the sentimental or mythos-making versions of either of these.

The ideal submission arrives with not one note of either sycophancy, flippancy, or overfamiliarity, and follows our formatting guidelines. Sometimes I know I'm excited by something within first glance at the text, and others I'm engrossed in reading and challenged by it—when I'm asked to fire all my analytic cylinders, I know that the submission is special.

I'm sure I'm in agreement with most editors here: you can tell when someone has a list and is just barreling down it, sending it off in one big blast—there's something so impersonal to that, and while I respect that sending out work is a sensitive (honestly, more painful than not!) process, writers can sometimes forget that editors are also just people, too, looking for writing and writers to support. Really, the tone of your cover letter is probably the most sensitive part of your submission, and it's never the wrong move to be clear, earnest, and intentional.

While I've emphasized submissions etiquette in my previous answers, it actually only applies to those who choose to write a cover letter. Annulet doesn't require them. I don't really need to know lifestyle facts, like pets' names, beyond where you perhaps went to school. Publication credits are useful to me not for prestige-chasing, as the big ones don't necessarily impress or persuade me, but instead to see what other journals or presses you've read and thought your work would fit with. It tells me more about various writing scenes than it does about your specific work, more often than not :)

I will at least see the full length of each piece, but the level of engagement or certainty I have about it determines how deeply I read it.

If a piece either participates in or considers a subject matter or style that I know is more the expertise of one of our Contributing Editors, I'll send it over to them for their take on it. That happens with probably around ten or so pieces a year, though, so it's not often. I will mull over work for sometimes longer than I should: sometimes I feel strongly about it, but not certain, like I've just had a very bitter cocktail that I don't at first love, but then its complexities or flavor grow on me. These often become pieces I am so, so happy that Annulet has published.

Annulet uses Gmail, still, for journal submissions, and as I'm going through my day, submissions will appear on my phone screen. Sometimes I check them while standing in line at the grocery store, or even in the midst of conversation. Mostly, editing is reading and waiting. In the two or so months before an issue's publication, I'm completely obsessed and spend all my time and energy on the editing, review, and formatting process, morning to morning.

All writers who submit work to Annulet, creative or critical, should expect the possibility of line or developmental edits, as well as copy editing and proofreading. Whether or not you receive any substantive edits, or if you go through multiple rounds, has no bearing on the value or quality of your work. Some pieces are intricately edited, which is a collaborative process with the text and author that I love to undertake. The goal with any edit is to ensure that the piece is in its best possible form for readers before it is published, which is distinct from whatever preference for it I may have of my own. I work with authors' styles, approaches, and even their own relationship to syntax and grammar to find a balance of clarity and particularity. The last stage of the editing process is final agreement with my recommendations, queries, or edits with the author, who has final approval. Authors also receive proofs for their own proofreading before publication, usually a week or so in advance.

Yes. We don't publish nominations, though, as I find those have a way of alienating other writers with work in the journal. I always wish we could nominate everything, as there's not one piece that appears in Annulet that I don't believe that everyone should read!