To start things off here at The Wicked Writing Corner, we asked Ranylt Richildis, editor of the wonderful Lackington's Magazine, to talk to us about what it means to run a magazine and what it meant to her to create Lackington's. If you want to support the magazine, go here. Be sure to read some of their stories and admire the artwork that accompanies these strange and wondrous tales. The zine is named after James Lackington. The next Lackington's Issue, Cocktails, is scheduled for release in May/June.
UPDATE: Ranylt blogged about blogging here, so if you like a reading experience that's just a tiny bit meta, we got you covered.
UPDATE: Ranylt blogged about blogging here, so if you like a reading experience that's just a tiny bit meta, we got you covered.
~~~
On Being One Space Among Many
By Ranylt Richildis
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James Lackington (Wikimedia Commons) |
Scroll through SFF Twitter and it’s all
there: the challenges of publishing in an overcrowded and underfunded field.
Editors, agents, and writers reliably dole out advice, often with fantastic and
heartbreaking wit. Attend any SFF conference panel related to publishing, and
you’ll get more of the same. So there’s no wisdom left for me to unearth about
launching a short fiction magazine or putting together an issue of SFF tales. It’s
been said, and likely said better than I could.
This is the thing about publishing—and
writing. We like to believe our words or ideas are fresh, but of course they
rarely are. Back in the day, the value of art didn’t rest on originality but on
execution (Google “Amleth,” one of the most famous examples of this in the
English-speaking world). But we’re still clinging to the column of Romanticism
in 2020, and its idolized individual, and that can compromise our vision at times.
Make us think we’re unique when we aren’t. Make us boastful.
When I launched Lackington’s in 2013, I dearly wanted to claim a unique vision. I vaunted
a space where experimental, challenging, and prose-poetry tales got the
welcome-mat rather than the side-eye. I understood those kinds of stories were being published elsewhere—that
other SFF mags did run experimental
and poetic pieces that were harder to place in more commercial venues. And yet
that individualistic surge half-convinced me Lackington’s was different. I wonder if, in proclaiming the magazine’s mission, my words may have come off
like an effacement of existing publications? I don’t want to glance back at that
initial marketing push, because they probably did. The work our own magazine
has done over the last 6 years has been effaced by the mission statements of
newer venues, so that’s my comeuppance, I suppose.
If you’re lucky, as a writer, you’ve found
a network of support among your peers. If you’re lucky as an editor or
publisher, you’ve also found the same: each venue recognizing the good that
others have done, and sharing in the progress (any damn progress) that publishing
makes. Communitarianism is a finer goal than some elusive difference, and what
you do is worth a hundred times
anything you might tweet. Am I being a bit of a scold? I think I am. Am I preaching
something novel? Not in the least, and other publishers know it. If there’s one
truth about running an SFF magazine, it’s that lessons will be learned and
humility acquired.
All of this to say: While Lackington’s isn’t the only market that
welcomes off-template prose and structures, that reserves space for neglected
voices from around the world, and that does its best to shield contributors
from this sometimes-unkind industry, it’s always been our focus and it’s
blazoned in our record (all this talk about the fallacy of difference, too,
from an editor who hungers for the odd). As a reader, I enjoy transparent prose
that gallops a plot from A to Z, but I love
stylized prose and departures from the 20th-century, three-act,
hook-em-at-line-one model. Stories are more fascinating to me, and amaze me
with their deftness, when they can grab a reader despite breaking those workshop
rules. So to every iconoclast with a keyboard or cherished fountain pen, keep
sending your untraditional tales our way (and to other magazines that feel the
same). They stand a very good chance of being noticed.
~~~
Ranylt Richildis is a Canadian writer, editor,
and teacher. Her fiction has appeared in PodCastle, The Future Fire, and
Imaginarium 4: The Best Canadian Speculative Writing, among other SFF
magazines and anthologies. Ranylt is the
founding editor of Lackington’s Magazine, an online SFF venue devoted to
stories told in unusual or poetic language. She tweets @ranylt.