Tuesday, March 30, 2010
I Have a Crush on Henry Rollins' Brain
Let me back up. I was not heavily into the punk scene when it blew open the music world. I have tragic tales of missing performances by great bands because I was not ready to be open to them. But Henry starting entering my periphery every so often, mostly in dramatic roles on the small and large screen and occasional encounters with Black Flag references. I felt obliged to pay attention.
When I expanded my cable t.v. choices, I found Henry's talk show. I was enthralled. I also found a special broadcast of one of his spoken word performances in Israel a few years back one lazy afternoon. I was held captive by Henry on the little screen.
Then I read a collection of his earlier writings early last year. Henry had me, hook, line, and sinker. I was appalled by the anger and frustration of his younger years. I was empathetic for the tenacity of his human self to withstand much pain and keep going. I was confused often as the writings blurred the boundaries of memoir, stream of consciousness, and fiction. I felt his righteous indignation and was angered by the responses of those around him in his catalog of days, moments, feelings, and beliefs. I was riding the Henry Rollins roller coaster and loving every minute, even those when I really wanted to get off but knew I had no choice but to finish the ride.
So this leads us up to Saturday: the line of folks stretched up the block and around the corner of Dell Street; people of all ages and levels of piercings and tattoos, from none to outlandish. Hair was gray, hair was purple, spiked and GQ. It took awhile to get everyone in the door but once the last person was admitted, the single spot over the one microphone was met with Henry just strolling across the stage, taking his stance, and the words started to flow...for 3 hours without a drop of water, barely a breath. Henry just pontificated on any and all matters of discourse and wonder.
My biggest curiosity has been, "What is Henry like as a middle-aged man?" He is everything a man of this generation should be: righteously indignant, full of questions, a mirror to the rest of us, fully invested in the evolution of rock & roll as well as humanity itself. What did I discover? Henry is a scholar of American History, almost of geek-like proportions. He is funny...very funny, in fact. He is caring. He loves all people equally, even the fools and the bigots, although he does not approve of stupidity and has no problem letting us know how intolerant he may be at times. Henry is a citizen of the world and takes matters very much to heart.
Mostly, I loved how much Henry loves language. He honors the word so fully. The abbreviated world of marketing and texting annoys him dearly. He busts on texters (of which I proclaim I am one) with relish. Henry seemed to be this era's Spaulding Gray, telling the stories of his curious life and constant state of inquiry to whomever will listen. He also expects that his audience is intelligent and can follow his thoughts, understand what he is saying. He couches things in metaphor, he plays with syntax and literary devices. The world of language is his home and he is astoundingly prolific.
Henry is also tremendously generous with his fans, meeting them by his bus, night after night, even though it appears he is not very comfortable in that setting. He stood in the parking lot signing books, album covers, ticket stubs, for nearly an hour in the cold March night.
Henry, we want you back...soon! This poet will be on a mission to find a way to bring you back to Syracuse so we can all swim through the currents of your thought, so we can be reminded that Why is the most important word any of us can employ, but especially those of us who are writers. It is our source and our responsibility to question.
You can follow Henry's dispatches and discover other Rollins-related items and info at: www.henryrollins.com
Georgia Popoff is a member of the DWC community, frequent contributor to this blog, and believes in having a crush on someone just because they are really articulate can be healthy.
Friday, March 26, 2010
What's the Rush?! Random Thoughts on Simultaneous Submission
This practice has become much more prevalent but I find it awkward and rather unseemly. Again, I consider the question, what is my goal as a poet? I want to honor the word and the work first. I want to take enough time to sculpt the words into my intention and the most crafted form I can discover as I go with any individual piece. Actually, I want to revel in that. The mere process of honing a poem is the heart of the purpose and identity of poet to me...my own personal version of "The Zone," to use runners' terms. Then, once I am comfortable with the poem, I want audience. Either a reader or someone to listen is my goal, consider my perspective through verse.
Somehow, there is an urgency in getting published for many. The search for audience drives us to fold our poems into envelopes and send them out into the world to be judged by a stranger. We think this validation will help us. To a certain extent, it does.
But why do we find it necessary to fulfill this need so dearly that we feel we cannot give one editor ample time to sit with the work thoughtfully and then make a decision before notifying the poet of the outcome? Do we not have enough of a body of work to send five poems in one direction and five more in another? Do we really need to send out the same five poems to three or four journals at one time and then do the juggling it takes if the poems are accepted one place before the other magaziness have had a chance to move them fully through their editorial system?
As an editor of a poetry journal, I have witnessed that we have had to pull poems from packets of submissions sent by at least 10 poets this season, all before the deadline for the reading period had even passed. Are these the only poems these writers have to offer?
Perhaps striving for a greater body of mature and well-crafted poetry is more important than a string of publications. Why is it necessary to have immediate response to the submission? There is a huge pressure on editors to turn work around faster and faster to fulfill the demands and expectations of poets offering work for consideration. It seems to directly correlate with this environment of digital immediacy we now experience in the age of 3G technology.
Regarding the awkwardness, a poet must contact the editor (or editors) of the other journals where the work is in rotation for review, asking to have the poem withdrawn from consideration due to acceptance elsewhere. That editor must not only locate the poem among hundreds, maybe even thousands; the editor will likely then spend some time questioning why that person is selecting the other publishing opportunity first. It has become akin to a little bidding war for a piece of property.
What is the rush? Is the need so great to be read that a few weeks for one publication to make a decision either way is too long to wait?
I believe that simultaneous submission of poems is poor practice. I know there are those who do not agree. But please consider that issue of creating a body of well-tended work. Publishing will have its place but patience is a part of the growth of a writer. Is it that difficult to wait 8 - 12 weeks? I think not. We have just grown accustomed to immediacy and now it has become habit. We can survive the wait. I am confident that we all have the ability to slow down and practice deliberate action as well as patience.
Georgia Popoff is a frequent contributor to the DWC blog, an editor, and a teaching poet with a number of poems in journals and anthologies. She once submitted simultaneously by accident and was mortified to have to withdraw her work.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Straight out of My Own Bones: Some Thoughts on The Bell Jar
A few years ago, I outlived Sylvia Plath. And somehow, despite an aborted attempt at a PhD in American Studies, and a robust American poetry course as an undergrad, I'd read a lot of Plath's poems, but I'd never read The Bell Jar. Until this week. I read the whole thing on Monday. I haven't read an entire book in a day since high school, when I read all of The Great Gatsby in one sitting.
Why didn't I read it before? I think because no one takes it seriously. It's sort of that memoir-disguised-as-novel written specifically for college girls who cut their wrists for attention. Right?
In her introduction to the 1997 edition, Frances McCullough writes that if Sylvia Plath had lived, “it's hard to say whether … the novel would ever have been published in this country.” McCullough goes on to question what might have happened if Plath had written more novels, better novels. Would she have returned to her first novel, The Bell Jar, and thought differently? Would she have self-censored? Told less of the truth? Crafted the truth into something less raw? Something dulled at the edges, or as Wordsworth says, recollected in tranquility?
We'll never know. As McCullough says, “of course Plath did die a tragic death at the age of thirty, and the book's subsequent history has everything to do with that fact.” By which she means that Plath's suicide makes the book a cult favorite, but she also means that if Plath didn't die, the book might never have seen the light of day – because it's not very good. Right?
I was surprised. It's not the best book I've ever read. The plot – maybe because it's so true – feels predictable. The ending feels a little like a a Lifetime Movie. But, as McCullough points out, “her voice has such intensity, such a direct edge to it,” it forgives the structural flaws.
Take the opening lines:
It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York. I'm stupid about executions. The idea of being electrocuted makes me sick, and that's all there was to read about in the papers – goggle-eyed headlines staring up at me on every street corner and at the fusty, peanut-smelling mouth of every subway. It had nothing to do with me, but I couldn't help wondering what it would be like, being burned alive along all your nerves.
And she never lets you go. It's a close, tunnel-vision narrative, right out of the eye-sockets of Esther Greenwood. And that voice never waivers.
It's not The Kite Runner. It's not a globally significant narrative. In fact, it doesn't stray very far from the geography, class or political background that it knows. So why does it matter? Why did it ever matter? Because one college educated white girl from New England was depressed one year and wanted to get it off her chest? Wanted to drag you into the eye of the storm?
This is why: because in her marriage negotiations with Buddy Willard, Esther Greenwood stumbles upon this observation:
I also remembered Buddy Willard saying in a sinister, knowing way that after I had children I would feel differently, I wouldn't want to write poems anymore. So I began to think maybe it was true that when you were married and had children it was like being brainwashed, and afterward you went about numb as a slave in some private, totalitarian state.
That's why. Because more than anything, this book struggles with the notion of either / or. Esther can be a poet or a mother. She can be an editor or a wife. You can pick one fruit off the fig tree, she says, and once you pick one, the rest of them wither and die.
What makes it so hard? Why are women prone to second guessing? Can't you do both? Be a mother and a writer? Tell the truth, and tell it hard, unfiltered, like a holy scream*, and do it well? I'm asking you. I've second-guessed my own answer.
You can debate Plath's answer – the suicide answer – the answer No, you can't. And if you try, you won't get out alive. But what you can't ignore here are the questions that Plath asks – about agency, about identity, and about telling the truth without apologizing. Or that what she asks has resonance, regardless of her own solution: "Everything she said was like a secret voice speaking straight out of my own bones."
*from the Norton Anthology of Modern Poetry – the really old, 1972 version I have, in which Anne Sexton is listed as still living. In the intro to Sylvia Plath, the editors write “Sylvia Plath's poetry is a document of extremity. Her sensitivity is inordinate, but so is her ability to express it. The result is a holy scream, a splendid agony – beyond sex, beyond delicacy, beyond all but art.”
Jennifer Pashley has eaten a lot of figs in her day. She has new work this week at Dark Sky Magazine, as well as PANK.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Dude, Where's My Poem?! Some Musings on Publishing
The final goal is publication, first in journal form, then book. Inclusion in quality anthologies is also quite important. Each time we see our names in print, our poems or stories on pages with others, we get a thrill. It feels "important." We want to see it often.
When we are new to publishing, there are many questions. The world of publishing for fiction is much different from that of poetry, or so it seems to this poet. These comments will mostly relate to my experience with poetry and publication.
Wherever a writer considers submitting work, it is tremendously important to be familiar with the journal selected for the work. It is also extremely important to read the guidelines for submission very carefully and follow the rules fully.
On-Line Publication
One frequent question is that of on-line publication vs. print. I was asked recently to articulate my thoughts on this subject. I will paraphrase my responses:
A decade ago, on-line publication was less prestigious. That perception persists; therefore; when an editor picks my poem for print, which is expensive, it seems a greater investment in my work. But if someone expresses confidence in my work by posting to a literary web site or even a blog, if it is someone I trust and/or respect, I want to see the poem reach an audience.
To me, connecting with viable readers is my goal. If I have the opportunity of reaching maybe 250 - 300 readers in a print journal or 1,000 readers on line, I may just opt for the greater readership. Although we want to develop a list of publication credits that is respectable, diverse, and reflects print journals that have invested in our work, we also want to get our work to a large and diverse readership.
So my questions to myself include:
**Whose site is it? Someone I respect or a journal that has an on-line presence in addition to print?
**If it is a blog, whose blog? There are blogs with thousands of regular readers, just as Garrison Keillor has millions of listeners to his NPR program on poetry and Prairie Home Companion. Will I have more eyes on my poem here than in the Asheville Poetry Review or the Cincinnati Review, for instance?
**Is this person's market the appropriate one for my work? Will those reading the poem be as interested in what I am offering as much as the editor or blogger?
Many on-line publications are highly respected so there is no longer the stigma that existed earlier in the history of the internet. So each poet must decide for him/herself which direction to go. Either is honorable. There may also be a question of immediate publication rather than dealing with the process of sending work out to a journal, waiting for response, and maybe having to send it out someplace else.
Georgia Popoff teaches at the DWC and has had many poems published both on line and in print.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Small Press Spotlight :: Cinematheque Press
NOTE: O CITY REFERS TO A CHAPBOOK PUBLISHED BY HIS PRESS.
1. What inspired you to start up Cinematheque Press?
Starting my own little deal had been on my radar for a while. When I was in grad school I worked for other publications, and, like the “real world” publishing biz I came from, there were moments—a lot of moments—when it flat-out sucked. No cooperation, no sense of responsibility, no listening. Ever since kindergarten I’ve been labeled as someone who doesn’t get along well with others. But I think that’s bum rap. I get steamed at crappy teamwork. So I work on Cinematheque all by my lonesome. Actually, that’s not true. I work with the writers as much as they want to collaborate on design, layout, fonts, colors, pricing, and more. And that’s a big part of my process and the why-I-do-what-I-do.
2. What future do you see of small presses in our media soaked culture?
Small presses are kicking ass right now. I think the indies, the non-profits, and the super tiny are putting out some, if not most, of the best work. One way I think of it: Who reads books and chapbooks from small presses? People who know all kinds of books and usually enjoy talking about them. Who sells product from small presses? Besides the presses themselves, your favorite independent/co-op bookstore. This is the textual world I like living in. What is a profit margin? What is a business model? I couldn’t care less. Sure, some small presses will fade, and some small presses will grow, but the passion and the work is what we know (if I’m allowed to kinda sorta speak for others, too).
I suppose I should mention something about the Internets, too. Some of the best journals and presses do their thing on the web. The way we use the Internet to deliver content is an evolutionary process. I have some wild ideas, and I’m sure others do, too. And what do we have to lose?
3. What and who inspired the design of O City?
This goes back to the end of my first answer. Wayne found the art. There are a number of references to airplanes and flying in the poems (“A Prayer (O City—)” has the part about the bomber). I came up with everything else. I think what I (and Wayne) like most about the cover are all of the bomber’s cut-away compartments and accompanying tiny labels, which are obviously text but too small to read. Without getting too classroom, the art is like the poems in that you (viewer/reader) want to know all the ins and outs, but, as Yo La Tengo said, you can’t have it all.
4. What is the most engaging/appealing about Mr. Miller's work for you?
I am a sucker for projects, long sequences, book-length poems, those types of things. And while Wayne writes in a style so different from me, I am mesmerized by his faculty to excite, inspire, and confound me. O City is a Wayne Miller book and it is beautiful. His last full-length collection, The Book of Props (Milkweed, 2009), is amazing: a world staring back at writer and reader, a world that’s both real and pantomime. The final section of the book is worth the cover price alone.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Small Press Spotlight :: Lame House Press
Founded in Brooklyn, NY and now based in Saginaw, MI, Lame House Press irregularly publishes chapbooks from emerging poets.
1. What kind of material do you publish: prose, poetry, art, other?
Lame House Press currently publishes poetry only. At one time we were going to publish an artist book, but unfortunately it never came to be.
2. What are your criteria for choosing a collection of poems (or stories) to publish? What genres do you consider?
When the press first launched, I only published work by poets who had not yet previously published any chapbooks or full length collections.
The first few chapbooks were by people who I had gone to school with whose work I really liked and thought should have a wider audience.
As time has gone by, I have opened up to publishing work by previously published authors, though the most recent title, Nathan Hauke's In the Living Room, is his first chapbook. There have been times where I have been at a reading and really liked a particular series I heard read and simply asked the reader afterward if he or she would be willing to have Lame House publish the work, as was the case with Arlo Quint's
Photogenic Memory. Something similar happened after I heard Franklin Bruno read.
My main criteria, as absurd as this sounds, is that it is "good." Most importantly, it has to be work that I like and am excited by. The poetry skews toward experimental work and post-avant poetry (or whatever the kids are calling it these days).
3. How does the selection of your books help fulfill your mission and please share that mission.
I have never written a formal mission for the press, but I guess it would be something like: Lame House Press publishes limited edition hand-bound chapbooks by contemporary poets. Our mission is to support exciting up-and-coming (and established) writers by giving them a venue for their work to help them reach an audience. I think the selection of books helps fulfill this mission because I only publish work I am really excited about and want to promote. I really want my authors to receive positive feedback and hear that their books are getting out there in the world.
4. Choose one of your favorite publications and explain the reason for your selection.
Since the press started in 2005, I have only published 13 titles, so I know each of them very well and it would be hard for me to select a favorite. I do not accept open submissions, so each title I published has been solicited, which means I have seen work by that poet elsewhere that has made me want to ask to see a chapbook manuscript.
I guess how this all got started might be a good story. When I was at the New School, I became very good friends with Gabriella Torres and she had a really wonderful chapbook that I wanted to see published. She had it accepted for publication at a small chapbook publisher, but then the publisher stopped making books and said they were not going to be able to put it out after all. That's when I decided to start Lame House. I didn't have a grand plan--I just wanted to see Gabriella's book, Sister, in print. After that I turned to a couple of people I went to undergrad with, Hazel McClure and Mike Sikkema, with the same idea that they were wonderful poets whose work should be out there.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Small Press Spotlight :: One Story
The DWC's Kim DeHaven shot a few questions to Tanya Rey, from the Managing Editor for One Story. She took the time to answer a few questions I had about One Story and the writing world. She has an MFA in fiction from New York University and you can find her work at McSweeney's. (Information taken from www.One-Story.com)
KD: As the Managing Editor, what do you think makes a story an actual story, besides a beginning, middle and an end? In other words, what makes a story a good story? A story that, as your guidelines suggest, leaves the reader "feeling satisfied?"
TR: A "One Story story" is one that is brave enough to stand on its own. Since we only publish the one, our stories have to create their own world, suck the reader into it, and leave the reader thinking about the characters and/or world long after they're done reading. Some stories that we come across are very good stories, and might be good for other magazines where they'd appear between other stories or essays or poems, but would feel too slender on their own.
KD: Who is the general audience of One Story, and if there isn't one, what do you think draws people to read the stories that are published in your literary magazine?
TR: I think people are drawn to the stories in One Story because they know they'll get something new and different every time, since we only publish each author once and really strive to make every issue different from the last. We don't really publish for any one audience, and our subscribers come to us from so many different places that it makes for a very diverse group of readers.
KD: How does One Story advertise itself? Why should aspiring authors want to submit their work to this literary magazine, as opposed to the many others out there?
TR: We don't really advertise, but rely on word of mouth and small-scale promotions for publicity. We also are included in several anthologies each year, which brings us a good amount of new subscribers. Writers should want to be published with us because they get the undivided attention of our 10,000 readers every month, and because they get to work with a team of editors that work closely with them on their story until it's perfected for publication. Once a writer publishes with us, we consider them a part of the One Story family, and promote them on our site and at events.
KD: What advice or suggestions would you give to an aspiring author that might help them get work published, whether in One Story or elsewhere?
TR: Write often, then write well.
KD: If it is not too personal of a question, why do you enjoy working with One Story? Why do you have an interest in literary fiction?
TR: I enjoy working with One Story because I believe in our mission: to save the short story, and to get quality short fiction into the hands of as many readers as possible. I also love that One Story does so much to help out their authors, particularly the emerging authors.