It’s mid-August, which means I’ve been reading a lot of haiku, mainly in the form of Kingfisher submissions. You’d think after reading over 1,900 haiku (so far), I’d be tired of them, but that’s not the case. I’m excited to receive each submission, not knowing what treasures I might find. Maybe it’ll be a sublime haiku by a poet I’ve long admired, or maybe it’ll be a fresh haiku by a poet who’s submitting haiku for the first time. Maybe it’ll be an absolute gem by a poet whose work I’ve turned down once, twice, or more. Or maybe it’ll be haiku that are fine, but don’t enchant me for any number of reasons (this happens with experienced and novice poets alike). Maybe it’ll be haiku that haven’t moved beyond the wordy 5-7-5 format (there have been a lot of those this time).
As an editor, some of the submissions that excite me the most are by poets whose work I have previously (and sometimes repeatedly) had to turn down for one reason or another. (I hate sending rejections, necessary as they are.) This shows me that the poet is persevering. Maybe they’ve ordered a copy of Kingfisher to find out what kind of haiku I publish (hint: no two journals have the same aesthetic). Maybe they’ve joined a haiku group or have found a mentor. Maybe they’ve been reading all the haiku they can find and are expanding their haiku horizons. (Here’s my constantly evolving list of haiku resources: https://kingfisherjournal.com/resources/) Maybe they’re stretching their haiku wings and experimenting with something new. And maybe their haiku still don’t quite work for me for whatever reason, but I’m always glad that the poet is still writing haiku and still submitting it. Hope is a wonderful and contagious thing.
Why do people submit their haiku to journals in the first place? It’s not for fame or money (though I still have a few crisp dollar bills from Modern Haiku from back when they used to be a paying market). For me, it’s a sense of validation and a desire to share my poetry with others. I send my haiku to journals I admire. Sometimes my haiku get rejected. When this happens, yes, I feel that small stab of disappointment that everyone feels, but then I ask myself why my haiku didn’t pass muster. I go back and read past issues (easy enough if the journal is online, but I also subscribe to a lot of print journals, as my overflowing bookshelves will attest). I read the new issue when it’s published and study the haiku that made the cut. What do these haiku achieve that mine did not, and what can I learn from them? Are there already five haiku about hummingbirds in this issue, and my hummingbird haiku was just one too many? Were my haiku too quirky (or too traditional) for this particular journal and would be better suited to another? Do the haiku I sent seem perfectly fine to me, and I should seek feedback from friends or one of my haiku groups before I try submitting them elsewhere? (Hint: these are all questions you should consider asking yourself when you receive a rejection.)
All this is to say that Kingfisher is open for submissions through the end of August, and I look forward to reading your haiku/senryu. Full submission guidelines can be found here: https://kingfisherjournal.com/submissions/ Now I’d better return to sending out responses to the submissions I’ve already received. Good luck!
Fine article, Tanya!
Nicely said Tanya.
Your comments about haiku, about acceptance, rejection, studying what has not worked when you do receive a rejection—these are all valuable lessons, tools, and I cant thank you enough for going the extra mile.
I’ve always founds your words most helpful.