Jim, you hit the nail on the head. Writing is both an art and a business. Poetry as well. We can’t expect our audience to value us if we don’t value ourselves. I’ve met poets who would create chapbooks then give them away because “I’m just not a good business person.” OK, fine, you don’t have to be. Just know the value of what you offer. And don’t bend. If you die poor with your integrity in tact then at least you’ve lived a good life. Let posterity do the rest.

I don’t see what’s so complicated about it. Granted oftentimes a customer may not realise what his options are and so only wants what he knows is available and that’s where marketing comes into play, an opportunity to expand the buyer’s choices, but, at the end of the day, he may still decide to go with what he knows works.

I’m a writer but I’m also a buyer. I have a limited budget and so I’m choosy about what I spend my money on. I often go into book shops and come out with nothing because I can’t pick. What if I wasted my money on something I’ll never read?

There are, of course, writers and artists who have doggedly done their own thing and lived in poverty and obscurity all their lives only to be discovered by future generations (a certain chappie called Van Gogh springs to mind). And that’s sad. But it is life.

Actually, what I was “pleased to report” was that we stayed within our budget, a necessary condition for survival.

One reason we broke even last year was a $5,000 grant from the NEA.

I accept NEA money because it is there, sometimes to be had.

I accept it as an expression of the will of the people.

I accept it because I cannot question the source of donations: Who knows how individual donors have come by their money? The great art funders—Rockefeller, Ford, Carnegie, Guggenheim…—were not entirely noble fellows.

Publishers have to make many compromises; we struggle to maintain our integrity.

Poets are somewhat better situated, because they do not have to pay the printer.
Best regards,
Howard Junker
Editor, ZYZZYVA