In a conversation with Daniel Aôndona, we unpack what the editors of literary magazines look out for, and what makes your work unique as a writer.
"What Editors Really Want!" A Conversation With Daniel Aôndona, Feature Editor at Pawners Paper
Oftentimes, many submissions miss the mark, not because they are not good enough but because the entrants lack the basic understanding of what the editors or organisers want. They overlook the basic standards and repeatedly commit the same avoidable errors.
To lay back these misunderstandings, Daniel Aôndona, Feature Editor at Pawners Paper, shares relevant editorial insights in a conversation. These unpack the prerequisites to consider when preparing a submission that leaves a lasting impression on the judge.
He significantly draws attention to a writer's confidence in their style and rhythm, placing emphasis on originality over imitation. He says:
"When craft and originality meet, the writing feels alive rather than constructed, and that’s what stays with a judge long after reading."
DA: Originality in voice and structure is one of the most important factors. No idea is entirely new. We are all in some way rewriting the same emotions, stories, and themes but what sets an entry apart is how those ideas are approached. A strong piece doesn’t sound borrowed or familiar, even when the subject itself is common.
What truly distinguishes an entry is confidence in its own language. The artist understands their rhythm, their pacing, and their emotional core, and doesn’t rely on imitation or trends to carry the work. Clarity of intention matters just as much as creativity: the piece knows what it wants to be and commits to it fully. When craft and originality meet, the writing feels alive rather than constructed, and that’s what stays with a judge long after reading.
PP: As an editor, what are the things you always hope to find in an entry?
DA: I look for sincerity more than cleverness. Strong entries are emotionally honest, even when they’re subtle. I also value precision, tight language, meaningful imagery, metaphor, and an awareness of form. Whether it’s poetry or prose, I want to feel that the writer respected both the reader’s time and the work itself. When an entry feels complete rather than rushed or performative, it immediately earns my attention.
PP: What are the most common mistakes that lead to an immediate rejection?
Sometimes the title is the first warning sign. While it rarely causes an immediate rejection, it does decide my expectations. A good title invites the reader in and reflects the genre and tone of the work. Poems titled like essays, or titles that explain the piece too literally, often weaken the impact before the writing even begins. In worse cases, when a piece doesn’t relate to the title.
In the content itself, a weak opening line is one of the fastest ways to lose a reader. Excessive clichés, filter phrases, poor grammar, lack of sensory detail, and careless language choices quickly distance me from the work. Going deeper into the piece, some writers, especially, but not limited to poets, sell clarity in the name of “aesthetic” language. When writing becomes vague or meaningless, it loses its emotional weight completely. I believe good writing is not about impressing the reader; it’s about honesty and impact. I’ve spoken to few writers who couldn’t explain their own lines and admitted they wrote them simply because they “sounded nice.” That kind of writing feels empty. To me, it’s bad, I must say.
Finally, endings matter deeply. A strong conclusion should satisfy instead of abandoning the reader. Just like the opening, the final lines need intention and beauty. After eating a good meal, a drink should be there to chill it down. A good write-up without a clear conclusion is like a meal without water.
When a piece ends well, it continues to live in the reader’s mind long after it’s finished.
PP: How do you manage personal taste vs. editorial standards?
DA: This comes easily to me. There are genres and styles I wouldn’t choose for personal reading, but that doesn’t mean I don’t value or appreciate them. Life often requires us to distinguish between what we enjoy and what we must judge fairly.
As an editor, I consciously avoid letting personal preference interfere with professionalism. For example, in my free time I go for shorter poems and contemporary styles, but while editing, I set that bias aside. My focus shifts to craft, effectiveness, and how well the piece meets the publication’s standards or goals.
In fact, I carry different roles. As a reader and writer, I’m allowed to be selective and self-centered. As an editor, I must be just. That balance is essential to doing the work honestly.

COMMENTS