I wrote this list in terms of things I want to see sent to me: https://sylviawoodham.wixsite.com/home/post/hypothetical-mswl
In addtion, if you know my literary influences, the American writers among them were authors connected with the Hudson River School. There are a number of 19th and 20th century American authors that are nowhere in my personal favorites list. However, I had to send two rejection letters tonight. They weren't impersonal form rejection letters, and I doubt any writer will be posting them on Twitter, so I will post them here for. you along with perhaps a list of stories not to send me. White American writers of any gender wanting to write about the Southeast United States history. Non-German writers of any gender or ethnicity needing to write about Nazis. I would say if publishing needs some new rules: Don't write about these topics. Especially not new emerging writers. These topics require extensive research, and it's not a playground for your fantasy or speculative experimentation. If you want to write a speculative or romantic story but make it Southern or make it Nazi, don't write it. Change the setting.
In general, historical fiction requires research, in any era. Perhaps other editors would not touch these stories and would send generic rejections without reasons why they were rejected. I would rather not need to recieve these stories at all. If it means earning a reputation among these writers of being too harsh, great for me. Here are two rejection letters I had to write tonight: Story number 1: Thank you for sharing your story with me. After reading it, I have to let you know that I cannot accept it for consideration. The primary reason is that the portrayal of a Black girl in 1950s Atlanta does not reflect the historical realities of that time.
As someone from Atlanta with deep family ties to that era—one relative was Secretary of State overseeing the poll tax, another lived with his roommates, including Jimmy Carter, and a family member was the daughter of the only white advisor to Dr. King—I am acutely aware of the racial dynamics that shaped everyday life.
A Black girl in 1950s Atlanta would have been navigating a world of segregation and systemic racism. Her daily experiences would have been shaped by:
Segregated and underfunded schools, limiting her access to quality education.
Restricted access to public spaces, where she could be denied service or forced into separate facilities.
Economic discrimination, limiting job opportunities for her family and creating financial hardship.
Daily racism, both overt and subtle, affecting how she was treated in stores, on the streets, and in every interaction with white people.
A strong Black community, providing support through churches, businesses, and activism in the face of systemic oppression.
Because these realities are not fully reflected in the story, it risks presenting an incomplete or even romanticized version of history. If a Black girl in 1950s Atlanta moves through the world without encountering these struggles, it overlooks the profound barriers that shaped Black life under Jim Crow. This is not just a matter of historical accuracy but one of responsibility in storytelling.
I appreciate the effort you put into writing this, but I cannot move forward with the story in its current form. Story number 2: After reviewing the story, I have significant concerns regarding its historical accuracy, particularly in its representation—or lack thereof—of Black people and the racial realities of the South.
To set the context, my relative, Thomas Murray, was directly involved in the forced removal of the Cherokee Nation in Georgia during the Trail of Tears. I also grew up in Atlanta, where reconstructed slave cabins on former plantations stand as reminders of the region’s history. Given this background, I find it difficult to engage with a historical fiction story set in the post-Civil War South that includes only one nameless Black servant and fails to acknowledge the defining racial and economic structures of the time.
If one is to write about the South—particularly a South shaped by the Confederacy, plantation wealth, and post-war decline—one must also acknowledge the presence and struggles of the Black community. By the time of your story’s setting, formerly enslaved people were navigating Reconstruction, voter suppression, sharecropping, and systemic violence. These were not peripheral issues but central to the Southern experience. Ignoring them distorts history.
Historical fiction requires research, especially when engaging with such a complex and painful period. After reviewing the piece, I cannot move forward with it in its current form.
These voices and narratives are VERY FAR afield from my MSWL! In addition here's an example of the problem. The experiences of the white women in my life in the South in the 1950s include the following: Grandma wouldn't vote for JFK Jr. because he danced with a black woman on TV. While her son was playing with black boys from a family employed by the cotton mill in their backyard who were not allowed to go to the same school. Mom's German father served ice cream to black children and the KKK destroyed his business. Cousin experienced racial trauma as a child as her family was targeted by racial hatred as the daughter of an advisor to MLK Jr. If you are a whilte person compelled to write about historical episodes in Southeastern US, and these are not the experiences of white people you are writing about, does anyone need to read your stories? A Note to Writers on What Not to Send Me
If you are:
A white American writer of any gender wanting to write about historical
Southeastern U.S. history
A non-German writer of any background feeling the urge to write about Nazis
Just don’t.
At the very least, not as an emerging writer, not without serious, rigorous research, and definitely not as a casual playground for speculative or romantic narratives. If you want to write a love story, but you think making it "Southern" or "Nazi" adds some atmospheric flair—change the setting.
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