Interview: Ladette Randolph

Ladette Randolph is editor-in-chief of Ploughshares and the author of three books of fiction, two novels Haven’s Wake (forthcoming, spring 2013) and the award-winning A Sandhills Ballad and the short story collection This Is Not the Tropics. In addition, she is the editor of two anthologies: A Different Plain and The Big Empty. Randolph is on the faculty of the Writing, Literature, and Publishing department at Emerson College in Boston. Prior to joining the staff at Ploughshares she was an acquiring editor and associate director at University of Nebraska Press. She is the recipient of a Pushcart Prize, a Rona Jaffe grant, the Virginia Faulkner Award, a Best New American Voices citation, and four Nebraska Book Awards.

How do you think your character is reflected in Ploughshares and how is the character of Ploughshares reflected in you?

What an interesting question. I would say the answer to both parts of this question are the same. My character intersects with the character of Ploughshares primarily through the guest editor program. While I had a great deal more power as a book editor (which I did before taking the position at Ploughshares) I always enjoyed collaboration, asking the right writer to do an introduction to reinscribe a book we were putting back into print. At Ploughshares, I have to work closely, and in the end defer to the tastes and passions of different guest editors. I enjoy the process, messy as it is, of working in this way.

What trends in writing have you noticed in your tenure as editor of Ploughshares? What trends worry you, and which ones please you?

I wouldn’t say any trends worry me per se. I think sometimes what surprises me most is how much the short story hasn’t changed. We’re certainly able to write about topics that might have been off limits in the past, but I don’t consider that a trend. There are stories written just for publication on the iPhone, Amazon singles, etc. but I think of these less as literary trends and more as experiments that help us learn what new technology can do and what readers will tolerate and accept. I think perhaps the biggest change is how the promise of technology has started to come together finally into something that might be considered a sustainable business model with electronic readers. There are problems, of course, and inequities involved in these innovations, but they probably don’t interest the readers of your blog. We now make Ploughshares available on Kindle and nook and are working hard to convert our digitized archive to files appropriate for electronic publication. We’re discussing a lot of things that we haven’t yet implemented. There are always exciting new writers and schools of writing that push us or disturb us, but I’m not seeing anything just yet that I think is radically changing the story itself.

How has working as an editor informed your own writing? How has being a writer informed your editing?

As a writer, I understand how hard it is to take a risk in submitting work for publication. But I also understand that writers have to be resilient and to learn to bounce back from rejection. I tend not to use terms like “good” or “bad” in discussing work because I don’t find those particularly helpful as a reader or as a writer. I’m more interested in whether or not the writer succeeded in doing what it is I think they were trying to do. I won’t ever give advice or feedback on a piece that I’m rejecting because it feels gratuitous to me and it suggests a relationship has been established that in fact hasn’t been established. There are many, many reasons why a story, poem, or essay (or book) doesn’t make it into print, and much of the time it has to do far more with space restrictions and the way a particular issue (or list, if its a publishing house) is shaping up. Publishers have to say no to fine work every day. It’s the hardest part of my job.

Your editorship of Ploughshares began in 2008, the year of the financial crisis; did that present any particular challenges?

The magazine had fully merged with Emerson College a few months before I came. Before that, the magazine had its own 501c3. I think, if anything, the merger gave the magazine more stability through a rocky economic time. So, no, I don’t think we suffered any big setbacks because of the economy.

Does it help or hurt if a literary journal is affiliated with a University?

I have only worked for institutions affiliated with universities, so I may not have the clearest perspective about this issue. While there are always frustrations working within bureaucracies, I do feel there is a lot to be said for the stability of being associated with a larger institution. Our jobs are fairly secure, our archive is safe, we have good technical support, and we have valuable colleagues who are working, as we are, for the greater good. We’re protected from some of the vagaries associated with both a fluctuating economy and a fluctuating market for literature. I know, though, that some colleges and universities under budgetary duress have seriously questioned their association with literary journals, and that’s been troubling and deeply sad.

In a world bewitched by brevity and blog posts, Twitter, and Facebook updates, how can literary journals retain their claim on our attention?

Ploughshares, like most established journals, has a core of very loyal longtime subscribers, which helps. We also have young writers still wishing to be published in our pages, and that helps, too, because they often become readers and subscribers. We’ve tried to embrace social media to raise the magazine’s profile, to bring in new readers and create a community around the journal. We’ve also used social media to get more immediate feedback about what we’re doing and to keep our readers apprised of our activities. The truth is, the readers I know (and I am one of them) no matter how frenetic our lives, still read short stories and novels even if we’re also reading blogs and Facebook updates.

In Nebraska, you were Managing Editor of Prairie Schooner and now in Boston you are Editor-in-Chief of Ploughshares. What effect does location have on a literary journal, and vice versa?

And between the two jobs at literary journals, I was an acquiring editor and associate director at University of Nebraska Press for a decade. To be honest, I felt there was little effect on Prairie Schooner because it was located in Nebraska. It’s a very old and distinguished journal. It can claim to have published many writers around the country who went on to literary stardom. It was, from the outset, very purposeful in not being regionally focused. Ploughshares, by contrast, really started as a Boston magazine for young writers in Boston who felt excluded from the writing scene in the early 70s. Because there are so many talented writers living in the Boston area, it never seemed like a detriment to have a regional focus. In the 40+ years since, however, the magazine has moved on to publish writers from across the country.

I’m sure your team at Ploughshares would shudder that we ask such a question, but – hypothetically! – if you were to move to a different location and head a different (perhaps imaginary) journal, where would it be and why?

Another intriguing question. In the winter, I would say the Ploughshares staff should move our operations to the Caribbean because Boston can be cold and dreary for months. In the summer, it might be nice for us to be encamped in the Green Mountains of Vermont or the Rockies in Colorado. You see, I have a hard time right now envisioning not working with the magazine’s talented genre editors (Margot Livesey and John Skoyles) and its superbly smart editorial and design staff (Andrea Martucci, Akshay Ahuja, Abby Travis, and Ashley Muehlbauer). Without all of them, there isn’t a journal. It’s my great privilege have the position I do, and I don’t take it for granted or even daydream about going elsewhere.