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  • How to Be an Editor
  • Laura Julier

It's winter here in Michigan as I write this, but contrary to what friends in other parts of the country think, there's no snow, it's above freezing—and it's been that way for days and weeks now. Still, the light appears later and later, and wanes earlier each day as we head for the solstice.

We're in that last rush putting this issue of Fourth Genre together, and I've procrastinated writing this part longer than I've ever done in the past. Much of the production work of this journal happens over the holiday breaks in the university schedule, which means that the journal's interns aren't here. One of them left me a note before break. Actually, she's graduated and (as with all the interns who've worked on this journal) I've been loath to see her go. One of Caitlin Vander Meulen's jobs has been to keep nudging me to write the editor's essay. At times, she's turned to me in a staff meeting and said, "You could write about that in the editor's piece!" Sometimes she says it as a joke, but there are times the joke starts to take hold for me and to make a kind of sense.

This is the note from her that I found last week:

Write editor's piece. Possible ideas: the time you introduced Alison Bechdel to a huge audience and she was more nervous than you; why you hate olives so much; why Michigan winters are so effing long; why you like that British television show [it's Broadchurch season 1, by the way]; your AWP panel on research and the essay; a list essay on How to Be an Editor or How to Hire an Intern; why we don't like Trump essays; how to read an essay without being fatigued by the 80 more you have to read that week … [End Page vii]

Just typing this out here makes me laugh again, because it suggests so much about the week-to-week life of a literary journal housed at a university. About the same time as I read this note, I received an email from a nonfiction writer who's considering editing a literary journal, asking me about Fourth Genre—how it's run, how it's supported, what's involved, what's hard, what I'd do differently. And since it's that time of year when every online site is overrun with lists, it seemed I might as well add mine:

How to Be the Editor of a Literary Journal

Plan to ask and negotiate for everything you possibly can before you sign the contract or accept the appointment. This is your only chance, the only moment you'll have time and leverage. Plan to get nowhere with the negotiation. You might get a couple of computers, a couple hundred dollars for doughnuts, maybe some basement storage for back issues. Deal with it.

Find an office. Having a comfortable space, with room for jackets and backpacks and pizza boxes, is important. Essential is room for a large table around which everyone can sit. Ideal is having room, too, for a couch or futon sofa. Before administrative mismanagement squeezed us into smaller and smaller space, we had such an office. The interns have gotten to the point of first laughing, then rolling their eyes and changing the subject whenever I mention, always with longing, the large corner room where Fourth Genre first lived. There were four windows lined with plants that the interns took home when they outgrew their pots (the plants, not the interns). Each year a new Squishable appeared (a type of stuffed animal; Google it). Staff held office hours and took naps, hung out between classes, and could comfortably gather to read submissions aloud to one another. Colleagues walking into the building commented what a happy place it was.

Find interns. Ask for a cover letter and resumé. Just as in every applicant pool, in every field, at every age, there are people who write well but bomb...

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