Hidden Fees

Literary journals often charge the writer an entrance fee, and then use the income to create a prize that is given to the winning entrant.

For some authors, it's worth a chance at getting the attention that comes with winning. For the rest of us, it's an expense we can't afford.

There are more than enough literary journals that don't charge a thing for submissions, and if the prize you're after is publication, it's the way to go.

Tin House, well known and well respected, doesn't charge a cash fee to submit. There will be a cost involved, however, if you choose to submit before the end of December.

You have to buy a book, and prove it.

The idea is to promote book buying at the local independent bookstore, to trickle a bit of life-giving cash flow into a struggling industry.

It's the sort of idea that was concocted in an office filled with those who have jobs that pay, or by those who still live at home with Mom and Dad.

Just skip your Starbucks for a couple of days and buy a paperback, they might reason. There are those of us out here in the real world who haven't bought a latte from Starbucks in years because it's too expensive and there's the household budget.

Part of the reason why bookstores are struggling is because people don't have extra money like they used to. Sure, I'd love to have an extensive library, but I've learned to settle for the limited selections at the public library. My taxes are paying for it anyway.

Buying a book takes a back seat to paying for the heat and light. And don't suggest I turn down the thermostat to 68 and then use the savings to buy a book. The heat's at 65 and if I came into extra money I'd spend it on natural gas before I'd invest in a novel that isn't very good.

There's the other side of the bookstore death spiral. Often, I'll pick up a book at the library and give up on it because I don't fall in love, as the literary agents say. I'm not interested in stories about people with angst living in Manhattan. I don't want experimental constructions that I can't quite follow. To lay out money for something like that makes no sense when you're watching every penny you spend.

So I'll hold off until January, 2011, when Tin House won't ask me to prove I bought a book so that I can submit. It's a noble thought, to be sure, but for some of us, it's out of reach.