In our magazine's document room, from the June 1920 issue, I discovered a piece, What Editors Do, by Hazel Miller. What she talks about caught my eye: The first World War and its ending just two years before.
“During 1917 and 1918, when the World War was going, there was a huge demand for war material,” Miller writes. “Most magazines were carrying practically nothing but war stories. When the War ended in November, 1918, some editors still had a goodly supply of war fiction and articles—for which they had paid real money—on their hands, which most people by now are fed up with.”
Her words have stuck with me for the past 12 months as we've weighed which COVID-19 stories to run and which to hold. I'm writing these words with thick snow outside my window, but they will reach you in the green of spring. Will you be vaccinated(接种疫苗) and tired of reading about COVID-19 then?
We say writing is an art, and publishing is a business, but I worry we forget that publishing is also a gamble(赌博), Except for the immediate publication, everyone in the industry—agents, acquiring editors, magazine and journal editors, etc.—are betting on a story's success in a future we cannot see. As is the nature of fortune telling, we are not so sure we will not occasionally lose: The 1920 editors sitting on a store of war stories no one wants, for example.
With so many factors outside your control, and so much uncertainty in the industry, isn't it better to have stories written from the heart that you are truly enthusiastic about rather than some to please an ever-changing publishing market?
My future reader, it's my hope that this issue finds you this spring doing just that: Writing the stories you need to tell—and the ones that will delight your own future readers for years to come.
