World Class Poetry Blog

Nic Sebastian at Very Like a Whale asked Jeb Livingston a series of questions on his blog. I thought Jeb’s answers were very telling and I’d like to offer a few snippets and my responses:

I sent my poems to all the wrong magazines; places that didn’t publish work in the same vein as mine — or places I wasn’t familiar, never read. That’s a recipe for failure and I cooked with that pretty much my entire 20s. Some people have to learn the hard way. I’m one of those people. Now I send poems out only to places I read and admire and sometimes to places that solicit work.

I think most of us go through this phase of sending out manuscripts to the wrong places. In truth, it’s hard to find compatible avenues for your poetry. It’s like dating. You have to go through hundreds of losers, whiners, ugly first cousins, loquacious snobs, self-centered eye-batters, silent prigs, and really awful date places in order to find one relationship that makes sense. When you do find a poetry journal that you really like, support it. Read it. Devour it for a while before you jump in and submit your work. Really make sure it is something that excites you and if it does, submit your work.

On “What would you do differently if you had to start all over again?”

I would save my money and not send to any book contests whatsoever. Bye bye $1500. What do I have to show for it? A handful of the “winning” books, most of which I don’t even care for. I could have published two books for that amount. Also, as I mentioned above, I would be more selective and knowledgeable where I send my work in general. Bye bye hundreds of hours of my life.

Geez, do I know how she feels. Not about the money. I’ve never been a big contest person. Though I’ve submitted to a few, I haven’t made a life of it. But I have wasted countless hours sending work to places I never should have been sending my work to, either for the prestige or for the self-congratulatory pat on the back, or because So-and-So did and I thought I should have that honor as well. It’s not worth it. Write what you write and find those journals that will publish it. Don’t waste time sending out work to schmucks.

That’s the beauty of ch(e)apbooks. I guess I don’t really understand the question of whether or not chapbooks are good or bad. Some books are good things, others not so much. I don’t see how length, distribution or the production process has any determining factor in that. Unless the pages are made from the skins of kittens.

When I discovered the power of chapbooks, I decided it was the way to go. One poetry reading can lead to the sale of four or five chapbooks, which pays for gas to and from and a snack, usually. Though now it probably just pays for gas. But you have to offer your chapbooks sparingly. Don’t publish a new one every week. If you publish too often then people will just think you are a money hound. Only publish a new chapbook when you know you’ve got one worth selling. Then hawk it for all it’s worth.

If you’re worried about trends, fashion or popularity, for God’s sake, don’t waste your time with poetry.

No kidding. Did she really need to say that? Yeah, if you are the trendy kind of person, try writing a memoir. Or write fiction and call it a memoir.

Poems don’t make anyone money. So when you’re creating your book, listen to your inner artist, not your inner capitalist. If your inner capitalist knew what he was talking about, he’d be telling you to write a self-help book or something for Penthouse Forum.

Hah! Funny one, that. Perhaps I should query Penthouse Forum about my poem on capitalism!

All jokes aside, she’s right. Poetry isn’t for capitalists. But that doesn’t mean you can’t take money for it.

If you mean do I do readings, speak on panels, link to my books from my websites, try to cajole people into reviewing my books, send out e- mails asking friends and family to buy them, agree to participate in interviews such as this one — then yes, most certainly. I do it because I want people to buy my books. I want people to read them.

And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.

On another note, Tony Brown is the newest Poet Laureate of the Blogosphere. Congratulations Tony!

Some print-on-demand publishers are upset with an Amazon.com policy that will require them to use BookSurge, owned by Amazon.com, as their printer or lose the privilege of selling through the online reseller. That sucks!

The issue isn’t so much that these publishers won’t be able to do business through Amazon.com. They will be. But they will have to jump through hoops to do it and there may be some missed opportunities along the way. That doesn’t bode well for the POD market because most POD publishers are self-publishing authors or small publishing houses. That effectively makes Amazon.com a bully.

Now, as an economic conservative, I believe Amazon.com has a right to run its business anyway it wants, and I’m sure Bezos and Gang believe that this policy will mean more business for BookSurge. The truth is, it may lead to more business for the online printer, but it likely will also lead to more resentment among POD publishers and that will lead to the niche market players seeking healthy alternatives. Will they be able to find them?

Many poets and small presses operate through POD. That means, if they want to sell through Amazon.com then they will have to play the Amazon.com game. Otherwise, they’ll be left out in the cold. Since Amazon.com is the largest online bookseller (and the most successful to date), that makes it a rather difficult decision. It’s no wonder POD publishers feel as if their hands are being tied. That’s because they are.

POD publishers will still be allowed, under the policy, to sell their books through the Amazon.com Advantage program, which is for third-party sellers. You offer your book for sell, Amazon takes the order but never touches the product. Instead, they notify you of the sell and you ship directly to the customer. Not bad, but having Amazon handle the full process can be a satisfaction in itself for publishers who do it on their own.

It’s going to be interesting to see how this plays out in the long run - for Amazon and for POD publishers. Personally, I’m cheering for the small guys.

This has got to be a world record: I received a rejection notice in 24 days.

I sent a manuscript to 32 Poems on February 28. I got my rejection notice last night, March 23. That must be a world record.

I used Manuscript Hub to submit two poems to 32 Poems because I wanted to test the service. But I’d also pegged 32 Poems as a place I’d like to get published in. Manuscript Hub made the process real simple. No stamps, no drive to the mailbox (since I live in rural Adams County, Pa., the mailbox is a quarter mile drive or walk), no long waiting line for acceptance or rejection, and no hassles.

Since you can expect a manuscript to be in the mail for up to a week in each direction, 24 days from submission to rejection, or acceptance, is pretty good. The snail mail process usually takes at least 2-3 months, and that’s fast. Through Manuscript Hub, I got my answer in less than a month.

Initially, I thought the $2 fee for submission was a little bit overpriced, but if I can save myself two months in the submission process and free my poems up to submit somewhere else then it might be well worth it after all. While I might spend more on delivery fees overall, I also run less of a risk of pissing off editors and publishers by double submitting (and some editors will not accept submissions from you again if you jerk them around that way so it’s a big risk), and if the process can be sped along by a month or more on each submission then I may be able to move myself closer to a full book manuscript sooner due to the circulation of single poems in journals. I’m using the first person in writing this, but the point is these factors apply to anyone. Having a book of poems published six months sooner due to faster answers on submissions to journals could mean more books getting published and more financial rewards in the long run. That could very well make up for the difference in delivery fees.

And the rejection letter, this is the best part, was a personal letter from the publisher herself. That’s always nice. Most publishers, when they reject you for publication, will simply send an impersonal note, “Sorry, no dice!” Pardon my paraphrase. I can understand it considering that publishers are busy people. You can’t craft a personal note for every writer who sends a manuscript your way. But a personal note can go a long way to encourage a writer to keep submitting. And that’s the bonus. Encouragement. Thanks to 32 Poems and Manuscript Hub for making the submission process much easier and affordable. I hope more journals start taking online submissions.

Put a poem in your pocket (or pull one out).

Read these litmag reviews.

Poetic pugilism: Bob Creeley vs. Yusef Komunyakaa.

Damn!

Ashberry’s hound.

Future bookstores - a serious threat?

Why go to university?

Whitman’s throbbing, flowing, pulsating human voice.

The Harlem Renaissance in Kalamazoo.

Poetry with juvenile qualities.

Did you write a poem today?

Here’s your chance to support freedom of speech.

Get published @ Teenypoet.

Ah, plagiarism.

Reginald Shepherd on New American Poets.

Slamming the Bluz in Charlotte.

Openness, inclusiveness. Is that possible in poetry?

“Outside the Flood Walls” by Edward Byrne.

Slam event: audience participation.

Veterans against the Iraq War.

Making sense of Mamet, the poet and the man.

Simic on time.

Read Ted Kooser’s penultimate column.

Quote of the Day:

If both chairs are dirty, to sit between them is the best place for a poet.

Thanks Yevtushenko

Reginald Shepherd talks about how he started his accidental blog. He says some interesting things in the piece, but one thing I’d like to quote is this:

Google’s Blogger software requires one to set up an account in order to leave a comment, but instead of taking me to the comment page once I had done so, the program sent me to a page to set up my own blog.

This is precisely why I don’t like Blogger. It’s incredibly annoying to have to sign in to comment in the first place. Secondly, when I do sign in then I’d like to be taken to the place where I intended to go and not off somewhere else. Then again, if that hadn’t happened to Reginald Shepherd, we’d have one less literary blog right now.

Excellent reading: Online Vs. Print Publishing

Just for the record, my personal preference is online. I don’t like to wait for a year from a publisher who doesn’t like simultaneous submissions and won’t respond to queries or send acceptance notices. I know publishers are busy. So are writers.

That said, I like publishing in print as well. There’s just something about seeing that by line.

Thanks to Ron Silliman for providing the above links.

A Leaves of Grass-like composition.

“Howl,” the poem that made Allen Ginsberg and City Lights bookstore owner Lawrence Ferlinghetti famous, was recorded one month earlier than that event at Reed College.

Poet wins $100,000 award.

Oh, are you entering the contest?

This short story contest had no winner and some entrants are plain pissed off about it. Oh, well. Better 10,000 pissed of losers than one mediocre writer thinking he deserves some kind of credit.

Stumbling Verse, a form for a new millennium.

Bill Moyers asks, “What books should the next president read?” I don’t really care as long as he reads more than the summaries of news stories presented to him by his press corps and the Sunday comics. I’d like him to have more than a fifth grade reading apprehension level.

VQR solves for the X factor. But if your submission is one of those that is automatically deleted then you’d be on the reverse side of this equation. That 4.6% wouldn’t mean a thing to you except that your submission would be included in it. Honestly, I’d have thought that figure would be higher.

When will the children’s fable be considered serious literature?

Street poetry is a “major art” and therapy for the homeless.

Is it erotic to have two vaginas?

The Princess of Black Poetry celebrates black history.

Asking what the poem wants. I just always assume my poems want to make love. You know want it, Baby! You know you want it!

Write a poem today. Then revise it tomorrow.

I joined the National Guard in 1997 after a 10 year hiatus from the military. I had joined the active duty Army right out of high school, mainly to get away from my parents. That’s what poor kids do to rid themselves of an unhappy past.

I could probably have gone to college on scholarship, but I likely would not have been chosen for the college of choice and would likely have not received a full scholarship, which would have made it difficult to complete any degree. At 18, I didn’t have sufficient direction and drive anyway.

I was a writer then, but not of poetry. The Army helped me to gain 20 pounds and the discipline necessary to succeed in other things. For the most part, it was a positive experience. I got to let loose on some hormones I had kept in bottles, satisfied my thirst for adventure by attending airborne school, and developed enough confidence to know that I could achieve things that other men my age had achieved. I was a man and the Army taught me that it was OK. I needed no one’s permission for that.

How I Fell In Love With Poetry
The Army’s college education fund at the time was called VEAP (Veteran’s Education Assistance Program). To qualify for benefits, I was required to put away $100 per month toward college and the Army would match it 2 to 1. I maxed out my benefits and when I mustered out in April 1987, two months ahead of the end of my enlistment contract due to Ronald Reagan’s “early out” policy, I went to college.

My major initially was Interdisciplinary Studies, otherwise known as Liberal Arts. I signed up for as many creative writing workshops as the rules for my declared major would allow. That meant a fiction writing workshop and a couple of poetry workshops. I excelled at both, but I fell in love with poetry right from the start. I blame it on Sharon Olds, whose book Satan Says made a profound impact upon me, and Sheryl St. Germain, my workshop instructor, who was very encouraging. I knew I had the gift by certain reactions of my fellow workshop attendees, other students at the University of Texas at Dallas.

Why Being Wrong Makes Good Poetry
I joined the National Guard because I had remembered the positive experience I had being in the Army as a young man. I left with dignity, confidence, and a set of sergeant stripes, which meant that I could maneuver within the bureaucratic system without tipping the boat.

After having spent some time living and working as a civilian, I felt the need to commit myself to a worthy cause. The study of political philosophy was leading me in the direction of conservative libertarianism and I did not want to go active duty again. I had other plans with my life and the military was not my full-time goal. I did want to serve my local community because that is where I thought a man of action should put his strongest efforts. I still believe that.

I was dating a National Guard member at the time and inquired about it from her commander, who made it seem like a decent part-time profession. I considered the cost and realized that I did not want to be sent on certain types of missions that were becoming more and more prevalent - Bosnia, Kosovo, and the like. I felt like the National Guard would be less likely to be called to those types of missions and considered that I might be able to put some of my skills to use serving my local community while accepting the challenge of acquiring new skills for the future. It seemed like a good idea.

I could not have been more wrong. When President Bush announced in March 2003 that the U.S. was waging a “pre-emptive” strike against Iraq, I was overcome immediately with grief and nervousness. Nervous that I would somehow be used for such a crime and grieved that such a move meant the death of the type of conservatism that I had come to respect. Bush’s preventive war philosophy, which he misnamed “pre-emptive” was wrong. I knew it. My studies of just war philosophy told me that it was not right. The conservative philosophy that had dominated the president’s own party for much of its history said that it was wrong. I could not understand why a “strict constructionist” was running down that path. It still befuddles me.

Sure enough, in June 2004, more than a year after my commander in chief had declared victory, my unit was activated for service. It was just as I had feared. That was the year the insurgency picked up speed and that year would be the year that would determine the nation’s length of stay in the war-torn nation where civilization began. We trained for six months for a mission that had not yet been defined. It was lunacy and I knew it. Like a lunatic, I served with two heads - one in the Kevlar and the other embedded in the spirit of St. Augustine.

After Christmas, the 2/112 AR, 56 BCT, Texas Army National Guard, took flight to Kuwait. By February we were in Al Taqaddum, Iraq, close to where some of the heaviest action was taking place at the time. I spent the entire year (2005) there, the bloodiest year (at that time) of the war yet. In almost every way, that year was a big step up from the previous six months of insanity. Nothing we had done during training at Fort Hood, Texas became important to us. We were in a different world and everyone knew it. Nevertheless, the most grueling parts of it all became an art to me. I turned it into poetry and wrote a good collection of poems that year. I’ve spent the last two years revising and reworking what I put into words then. One such poem, “Cigar,” is a reflection of that experience.

Some Notes On “Cigar”
During our year in Iraq, two other officers and myself - Captains Robert Briscoe and Scott Simms - would step outside late at night while one of us worked a shift as Battle Captain in the battalion TOC and enjoy a cigar together. We would spend that time talking about politics, our lives, beer, women, or any number of other things that would take our minds off of the events of the day. It was a time for us to leave the enlisted men without a set of eyes looking over their shoulders and as much a time for us to unwind and just be ourselves. Sometimes we’d be accompanied by other officers and sometimes it would just be us. Those were some of my favorite moments and I looked forward to them. “Cigar” came out of those moments with my fellow slaves and is now a matter of public record. You can read “Cigar” at The New Verse News. I hope you like it.

• Love and War
• Battlefield Confession
• Life

If you are looking for a conference that will help you prepare a manuscript for publication then I’d like to point you to an upcoming conference that looks promising. It’s called The Colrain Poetry Manuscript Conference.

Starting January 18, 2007, the conference looks like it will provide attendees with real benefit. Conference attendees will get a chance to meet and work with editors from some well-known publishing houses such as Tupelo Press, Ausable Press, and Graywolf Press. Conference faculty include Chase Twichell, co-editor of The Practice of Poetry: Writing Exercises From Poets Who Teach, a book I absolutely loved reading, Jeffrey Shotts, Jeffrey Levine, Joan Houlihan, and Fred Marchant.

The conference will take place at the Brandt House in Greenfield, Massachusetts. The conference’s website describes it as perfect for anyone who has a poetry book manuscript that is finished or nearly finished. I’d attend the conference myself but the fee is $1,295 until December 21, 2007 and goes up $100 after the. The chances of a first book of poetry earning that much in return for a poet are pretty slim, so I think I’ll pass. But I’m sure this conference is right for someone.

Today is the anniversary of the infamous Supreme Court decision that declared George W. Bush president of the U.S., causing a sitting vice president to a very popular chief executive to lose an election. Do you know where you were when that decision came down?

There are events that happen that will always cause you to remember where you were when you heard about them:

• Kennedy’s assassination: I wasn’t born yet.
• Nixon’s resignation: I was six years old so I was in front of the tube watching it unfold live.
• 911: In the car on my way to work as a journalist at Today Newspapers.
• Bush’s victory over Gore by Supreme Court decision: At Fort Knox, training to be a tank platoon leader.

I remember so vividly that I could not focus on my studies at Fort Knox because I’d rather have been reporting and writing about the historic incident. Though it was not within the realm of my duties as a small town reporter, the event had a lot more relevance to my life as a citizen of my country than anything that was going on at Fort Knox. I remember questioning why I had joined the National Guard when every minute of my service was going to render the Constitution I swore an oath to defend and protect a worthless piece of hemp that others in higher positions of trust were not even defending. I still feel that way.

In 2004, my Guard was activated and I spent all of 2005 playing in Rumsfeld’s Sandbox. It was the last straw. I could no longer justify spending my time defending the Constitution when the highest officers of the nation’s defense were not themselves defending. Not only were they not defending the Constitution, but they were doing all they could to dismantle it. And there I was, in my desert camos, remembering the day I joined the National Guard because I wanted to do my part to defend the nation. My service was all in vain.

If there is anything good that came from my experience in the National Guard, and Iraq in particular, it’s that I managed to write enough poems that year to put into a book. I am currently revising and compiling these poems and preparing them for publication. I would like to receive feedback from a handful, select few poets of some stature willing to critique before I submit them to publishers. If you think you might be interested in reading my pre-publication manuscript and give me the harshest critique that you can muster then contact me through the form on this web page. Be sure to include your qualifications. I am only selecting a handful of people to assist me and each person who does so will receive a free copy of the book upon publication and a mention in the acknowledgments.