What’s It Like to Edit a Poetry Magazine for the First Time?

It must have been the wine at the Magma Christmas bash that made me think it might be a good idea to offer myself up to Laurie Smith, one of the founders of the magazine, as assistant editor on Magma 42. He has a wealth of editing experience under his belt. Not just that – as I was to discover, he is immensely knowledgeable, unbelievably painstaking and very, very patient. With me, I mean. Which was just as well, considering I had no idea what I was letting myself in for.

In my innocence, I assumed that the bulk of the work would be in reading the several thousand poems that are submitted for each issue, selecting the strongest ones, then trying to create a coherent whole out of them. Laurie and I had several intense email debates about certain poems; each of us had the experience of changing our minds about poems after slugging it out for a few virtual rounds. Which makes you realise how subjective the whole business can be.

However, I was to discover that the selection of poems, although one major part of the process, is only one dimension. Poems alone do not a Magma make.

Much thought and debate went into deciding on the prose articles. Laurie and I each wrote one, and others were commissioned. And I haven’t even begun to list the administrative tasks – things like getting hold of poets’ addresses and biographies and photographs. Never mind that, actually getting hold of certain poets at all could sometimes be a tortuous business.

Then there’s the question of what goes on the cover, what we write in the editorial, what should the headlines be on the front, what should be the copy on the back and organising the different sections so that they make sense together.

To complicate matters, Magma 42 coincided with the newly refreshed, bigger and better Magma, which meant a different creative approach to design issues and an ongoing discussion with our graphic designer, and our marketing person.

I should mention that the densest part of the process (in August, once all the poems were selected) took place during the school holidays. All my children were at home and I, as luck would have it, was putting together my own pamphlet and helping to edit an anthology. In addition, I was also engaged on writing my article on poetry in education, which – what planet do I actually live on? – took a lot more thought and research than I had originally envisaged.

Thinking back, I believe I had assumed – huh! – that most of the work would be over by August and I’d be able to fit the editing job in the odd half hour here or there. I couldn’t have been more mistaken. Laurie himself was immensely busy at work at that time, and however much we might have tried to keep things going at a steady pace during the submissions period, things inevitably hotted up towards the end, especially as the number of poems always increases exponentially as the deadline approaches. But we managed.

Of course we did. This is Magma Poetry after all. I think there’s a lot of truth in the old adage that when you want something done, you should ask the busiest person you know. Everyone on the board has a life, and somehow fits their Magma responsibilities around it. If the board were to fill in time sheets, like lawyers and accountants, the time spent would add up to several full time jobs. Everyone puts in everything they’ve got, and nobody gets paid. So what’s in it for an editor?

Well. I would say firstly that it’s a great honour and responsibility to be put in the position of having to choose. We receive many more fine poems than we are able to print, and it is sometimes very painful to have to turn great work down, often because it simply doesn’t fit in a particular issue and there’s only so much space. Conversely, it’s a delight to to discover a poem that surprises, delights or shocks, often written by someone you have never come across before, and put it on the ‘yes’ pile, and to have the privilege of corresponding with writers. Even the most esteemed poets are on the whole immensely humble and self-effacing. That in itself was a revelation.

Ultimately there is nothing quite like the feeling you get when you actually hold the fruit of your labours in your hand. That shiny, symmetrical object of desire that is Magma Poetry with some poems that you really love inside it. And I say that without any irony at all. It really is something to be proud of. Now, as the as the dust settles after the launch of Magma 42, the taste of our enormous celebration cake still lingering in my mouth, there’s also an immense feeling of relief. It’s all over. The overflowing inbox, the late night panics (did I remember to send that email?), the intense debates. But hang on, I’m missing it already. I really am.

Would I do it again? You bet I would. This editing thing is addictive. A few slugs of Glenlivet, a deep breath or two and I’d roll up my sleeves and just dig in.