The Submitters: On the Literary Economy of Unreadness

Submitters, a term used to describe writers who submit their work to literary agents, operate within a complex literary economy that remains largely unread. In this world of fees, bios, and tips, writers face a gauntlet of workshopping, contesting, and sending out short fiction like state-fair-quality butternut squashes. The majority of contemporary literature, in fact, is not published but submitted, with a vast ocean of inert literary content stored on servers at marginal cost.

Between 15-17 million full manuscripts are estimated to reside in slush piles of literary agencies, alongside 1.4 million new titles earning royalties through Kindle Direct Publishing.

However, the significance of these marginally publishable literary acts lies not in their being read, but in their conspicuous unreadness. Despite the familiar story of technological advance and the speed and volume of information, the correspondingly exponential increase in futility is often overlooked. In the publishing industry, this futility is an open secret, with Penguin Random House, the largest seller of books, relying on only 4% of its sales to subsidize the rest.

According to BookScan, only a minuscule fraction of the 3.2 million new titles published in 2021 sold more than 5,000 copies. This reality clashes with the narrative of a data-driven, well-oiled machine built for dominance in bestseller lists. Yet, beneath the surface, the reality is that half of the NYT trade and hardcover fiction lists emerge from outside traditional publishing, forcing agents and editors to adopt the role of recruiters.

Publishing's adaptation of modern culture industries' gimmickry is evident in the ability to set aside the success of one's own product while still delivering on-time shareholder profits. The business has been optimized for sales, with sellers coming from outside the house, generating prestige for unpaid labors striving for recognition.

The most influential literary genre, however, is the one that clearly does not exist: MFA fiction. While it has served as a voodoo doll of the Iowa Writer's Workshop, it primarily serves as a tool for critics to express disdain. The most influential literary genre is the one that does not exist, leaving submitters to stumble through a world of conspicuous unreadness.