Facebook, Blogging and Narcissism

I got into an interesting Facebook discussion yesterday on narcissism; whether or not poetry blogging was simply a narcissistic activity which stole time away from what was truly important – writing poems.

Well, the irony that this discussion took place on Facebook is not lost on me. Facebook is surely the most potentially narcissistic activity ever invented. Just as football matches may indeed help young males to scream away their latent aggression, Facebook can end up as an unbelievably massive pit of pent-up hubris. Do you need to say something about yourself, your opinions, products, beliefs or attitudes? Now you can throw it all up in public and no one will hand you a mop and bucket afterwards. In Facebook, self-reference is not only expected, it’s the entire raison d’etre – if you bypass those who use it only to hook up with old friends or get a date for Saturday night.

Facebook is a giant blog. Or rather, it’s a zillion different blogs all rabbitting on at one another endlessly. But even a poet’s most considered Facebook wall (is there such a thing?) or ‘Timeline’ will invariably lack the breadth and depth of the better poetry blogs, and will be a hundred times more narcissistic than most. If you went through this blog from beginning to end, you would find some entries I’d probably want to disown and one day I may delete everything I’d rather not leave future generations to snigger over, on the off chance anyone from a future generation actually stumbled in here – probably drunk and frittering away a research grant they got to study barbarian communication methods. But I wouldn’t delete everything.

Basically, saying that blogs are hubristic is like saying books are manifestations of mad egos or that songs are sung only by people who love the sound of their own voice. Anyone who publishes anything anywhere in any medium is saying, “I think this will interest other people.” The bad news is that most of it won’t. Some of it will for a few minutes, but almost nothing will last. Value resides in a tiny spoonful of this glutinous soup.

The argument runs that at least a book or album has been selected and worked on by publisher, editor, agent, producer etc, whereas blogs are mainly inane, self-driven ramblings of people who could have spent their time more productively. But most books are rubbish, most albums too, even despite this level of control and input. “Inane, self-driven ramblings” could describe many poems published today and I’m not talking about ‘confessional’ poems or any other kind of autobiographical verse (some of which is good), but poems which seem designed to offer the reader the promise of wisdom, insight, epiphany or joy and instead present him/her with an earnest exercise in cliché, or just scream, “Look how original I am! Look how fun I am! Look how clever I am! Look at this unique image/phrase/technique I created (and don’t realise has been used before by about five million other poets before me because I don’t read poetry so as to avoid being influenced by it)! But please save your applause until the end of my ninety-seven pages...” In other words, a blog is not necessarily any more self serving than a poem, even a poem that has been accepted by a magazine.

I suppose I could have written a poem in the time it’s taken me to slam down this article. But I see no reason to bring yet another poem into the world to join the millions of other poems no one wants to read just for the sake of it. I write a poem when it feels necessary to do so and I work hard on getting it just right. Every semi-colon of it. I write a blog post if I feel in the mood and people can take it or leave it. Leave it? Sure thing. Be my guest. Or don’t be. Facebook, after all, is waiting for your attention...

Finding New Poets

Interesting article by Don Paterson in the Guardian on ‘Finding the Best New Poets’. I’ve read enough hopeful Facebook updates from people “seeking publisher for my new manuscript” to know that seeking publishers isn’t the way it works for poets. A good few years ago, someone said to me, “Don’t look for a publisher. Let the publishers look for you,” which seemed more than slightly optimistic, but the title of the Guardian article bears that out.

The background here is the Picador poetry prize, won in its inaugural year by Richard Meier. It’s partly a matter of what style of poems you like, of course, but Meier looks like a worthy winner. A prize is only one way for publishers to find their poets. While Don P exaggerates just a bit in suggesting that a new talent will find themselves linked into poetry networks from only “one casual appearance at the most obscure local workshop,” he’s right that “you really have to work at being a recluse of a rare and dedicated variety to avoid being on the radar.”

Probably, poets fret too much about publicising themselves. There are thousands of poets all competing for the tiny poetry market, and the tendency is to feel you have to shout pretty loud to be heard. Increasingly, I’m not so sure about that. Strong work, activity in support of a book (readings, interviews etc), a little word of mouth from other people, and a growing sense that there’s something distinctive about you is mostly sufficient. Some books sell far more than others – not always the best books (Wallace Stevens’s first collection, Harmonium, sold terribly when first published, for example) – but the hope is that, in time, at least some of the best books will keep selling while the others fade away.

Interesting that Don P picks out blogs and Facebook as ways of “helping enormously” in maintaining good networks. I was at a reading he gave not so long ago when he said (tongue-in-cheek, of course), “What is Facebook anyway?” Nice that he picks out Baroque in Hackney as an example of good poetry blogging (it certainly is). As for “many anonymous others which resemble farty wee boys' gang-huts, and where membership is conditional on hating the right people,” I suppose the advantage of blogging is that the only farts you can actually smell are your own. The others are all scentless cyber farts. I would like to see the list of the right people to hate too, so that I can send them all a special Surroundings Valentine card. Anyone on that list is a friend here.

Ryan Van Winkle Is Here Today!

Here's a short interview I conducted with poet, Ryan Van Winkle, part of a blogtour to promote his excellent debut collection, Tomorrow, We Will Live Here, published by Salt today! The launch is at Blackwell's Bookshop, South Bridge, Edinburgh, tonight at 6.30pm, followed by a party afterwards from 8pm at the Forest Cafe - to which all are invited.

1. The poet Katherine Gallagher said in an interview: “Certainly, in the post-modern world, there’s a lot of joking going on. Often tongue-in-cheek. I think I tend towards ‘seriousness’ in poetry somewhat as per Theodore Roethke’s idea, ‘Poem: one more triumph over chaos’. But I like jokiness too” – any thoughts on this?

I probably have too many thoughts on this. Comedy is hard to get right and I'm super critical of people / poems / performers which try too hard to be funny. I find that earnestness isn't funny, trying to make someone laugh is painful.

Yet, I strongly believe poems should represent life and, certainly, life is funny. Funny to me means – awkward, uncomfortable, honest and maybe a little dark. When I saw Tom Waits he said he likes his songs to have some weather, a map in case you get lost, and something to eat in case you get hungry. I'd add humor to that list – “a joke, in case you need to laugh.”

However, because I think trying to be funny is not funny – I also tend towards seriousness in my work. I'm told some poems are funny. To that, all I have to say is: I've never set out to write a 'funny' poem. I think some poems have humorous moments but they all started deadly serious. Which, if you know some of my funnier work, is kind of funny.

2. ‘I’ and ‘we’ feature in many of your poems. Would you class yourself as a confessional poet? Or at least in the general line of Robert Lowell, Sylvia Plath, and Sharon Olds?

No, I don't think I would though I at times I'd like to be. If my narrators or characters feel like an authentic 'me' that is great and amazing and I'd be really proud. However – and I'm not trying to hedge my bets here – they are and they aren't. Everything is a little or a lot made up. What is real, is how each narrator contains a genuine part of me and that allows me to understand the character.

While characters or situations may be fiction, I hope the emotion seems real. If I separated out the fact from fiction in the poems (I've never been on death row, experienced 9/11, had a son find a dead body – I have masturbated in hotels, cut my knee, run cross country in High School) it would probably be 50/50.
But, maybe Lowell, Plath and Olds would say the same?

3. I suspect they would! Anyway, who is your ideal reader? And would you be anxious if that person actually existed?

My friends. I am always anxious when they read anything. I desperately want them to like me.

4. You have a spectacular moustache. Have you sensed any kind of bond developing between yourself and other moustached poets?

Yes. Though, I support all the varieties of facial hair. I give them a little nod when we pass on the street. I say, “Hello, brother. Solidarity.”

Someday, I hope to appear on an all mustache / all beard poetry night. Get me in!

That's a great idea, Ryan! What I might organise is a Moustaches/Beards vs Clean-Shavens event, in which poets are commissioned to write poems which include reference to facial hair or lack of. And the audience could then vote a winning team...

Ryan will be continuing his tour on 20 November at Robin Grey's blog and then on 24 November as guest of the Scottish Book Trust

"Derivative, Solipsistic or Lacking either Freshness or Ambition"

The 2010 Aldeburgh Poetry Prize shortlist has been announced (and nice to see Tony Williams flying the flag for Salt on that list). The comments by one of the judges, Neil Rollinson, will raise a few eyebrows:

“Most of the books I read were either derivative, solipsistic or lacking either freshness or ambition. There were, however, a few splendid books which were a joy to read and which I’d be happy to recommend to anyone.”

The Aldeburgh Prize is for first collections, but I suspect that comment could safely be extended to poetry books generally. Some of the collections that have most lacked freshness and ambition that I’ve seen recently have been by established poets. But do only a few new collections make it into a ‘joy to read’ category each year, or is he being harsh?

I tend to read quite widely, and not always the very latest stuff, so I don't read all that many new collections in the year they are published . Basing it on books I'm asked to review, I suspect Rollinson is right. I don't often think the books are 'bad', but many seem a bit flat, and it's great when I get one that really bowls me over. On the other hand, collections I find really boring appear to be a 'joy to read' for many other readers: in fact, at Neil Rollinson's website, you can read excerpts from reviews of his own collections - intriguingly, both positive and negative reviews, which all goes to show... If taste was uniform (and uniformly refined), the job of publishers would be easy.

Publication Routes, First Lines and Literary Identity

Apologies for the relative lack of activity here for the last week or so, but that’s partly because I’ve been writing on other blogs. Firstly, an article on my route to publication for Mairi Sharratt’s blog, A Lump in the Throat. The article has a part 1 and a part 2. Secondly, I conducted an experiment on first lines and continuations over at the Magma blog. And thirdly, this morning, I wrote a long comment (sorry about the length) for a fine article by Claire Askew on literary identity. My comment is currently awaiting moderation, but the article and comments made so far are well worth reading.

New Poems

Quick news of a couple of publications. I have three poems in the new Ouroboros Review, issue 5. My poems are on page 26, but there’s plenty of good stuff throughout the magazine. I’m also in the Bugged anthology with a poem called 'What Friends Are For'. The anthology will be out soon. I’ve seen a .pdf with a selection from the contents and the book looks well worth getting hold of.

The Backward Prize

I’ve returned to the article in the Guardian about the Forward prize 2010 shortlist a few times, with increasing astonishment. It’s not the shortlists that astonish me, although three Faber books on the Best Collection list, perpetuating the myth that *of course* anything Faber publishes is automatically better than anything else, is worthy of a withering put-down by someone. But the whole article comprises of one piece of nonsense after another. First of all, the article begins:

“An expected clash between Nobel laureates Seamus Heaney and Derek Walcott on the shortlist...has been averted”

Expected clash? Who expected such a clash? The judging panel includes Hugo Williams and Ruth Padel. Padel has made no comment on Walcott’s omission – unsurprising, I suppose. Williams couldn’t hold himself back:

“I read his first book when I was 18. I thought it a bit florid, and I've stayed with that."

This illustrates a serious problem with literary awards. Even people who enjoy Williams’s work can hardly expect him to be more than a footnote in a history of 20th century poetic achievement, itself a triumph, as most poets won’t merit even that. Walcott has a serious claim to be considered one of the 20th century’s greats. This doesn’t necessarily mean his new book is great (I haven’t read it, so can’t comment), but for his entire output to be dismissed as ‘florid’ by an inferior writer calls the whole award system into question. Walcott’s style is simply not plain, unadorned and prosy. Whatever one’s preference in those matters, judgements on a book surely ought to be made on how well an author writes in his/her own style rather than demanding it ape the favoured style of a judge.

But Williams isn’t finished. Asked who might win, he replied:

"I rather fancy Lachlan MacKinnon."

I have never known a judge, especially one who is part of a committee of five, to publicise his own choice weeks before the result is due. This is very poor form, I think. It might  help to explain the betting odds, for anyone who fancies a flutter:

9/4 Lachlan MacKinnon

5/2 Sinead Morrissey

3/1 Robin Robertson

4/1 Seamus Heaney

6/1 Jo Shapcott

8/1 Fiona Sampson

Finally, Williams has a go at publishers and emerging poets. There were 147 entries for the awards:

“That's too big a number of books in one year in one country to put out. I think it's something to do with the democratisation of everything – that everyone's got a right to get a book out ... I've got the feeling that sometimes it's more about desire than worth."

Well, you know, from a publishing perspective, it’s worth considering whether such an output is sustainable, given that it represents only a tiny fraction of poetry books published last year. Books need readers and buyers if small publishing houses are to keep their heads above water. A greater number of titles obviously require a greater number of readers (so reaching more readers is the difficult, but positive, answer). But Williams’s comments are absurdly negative. Would Williams have felt like this if he had just published his first collection? Are some of his collections more about desire than worth? Some might now be tempted to argue the case! Anyway, Andy Philip (well done to Andy, for his shortlisting in the Seamus Heaney prize, by the way) and Tania Hershman have both addressed the topic and it’s worth reading what they say.

Poetry And The Future

I was reading Don Share’s new blog article, The Future of American Poetry on how the relationship between poet and audience has changed and is still in the process of changing, mainly due to technological advance. Of course, it’s not only American poetry at stake. The “chapbook publisher with a Blogspot page and PayPal account can sell directly to readers worldwide,” as Ron Silliman mentions, from just about anywhere.

Any poet can develop an international readership, which would have been unthinkable only 15 years ago for all except for the most lauded writers with international reputations, who were very few. That’s the theory and, for some, it works. However, it’s more complicated than that.

A decade or two ago, most poets writing now would have had no audience at all other than friends and family (if that). Some others may have become known in a local scene, but not beyond. Only a handful would have entered the public consciousness (or, at least, the poetry-reading public consciousness). These days, millions of poets compete for readerships through the Internet and there is no quality-control. Poetry boards abound where people ‘share’ their poetry, and many of those people will never read poetry books. They read only their ‘sharing’ peers online, partly because they expect their community to reciprocate. I suspect they don't really constitute a significant potential base of readers (perhaps I'm wrong about that?). Some poets who would never have got a publishing contract from a traditional page publisher are getting read on the Net and are selling a decent amount of their pamphlets and books. These include poets who write 'traditional' verse and those who lean towards experimental work. Because there are so many, however, those with a gift for marketing themselves with an online presence are most likely to succeed in gaining an Internet audience. The rest will fail.

I’ve noticed that most of the bigger UK independent presses like Bloodaxe, Carcanet, Salt, Seren etc are all developing a significant Web presence and are embracing new media such as e-books, video, audio etc. The same isn’t true of the trade presses like Faber, Picador and Cape. They perhaps feel that their books will set the agenda for future anthologies, that posterity will belong to them, and that the deafening racket from today’s Internet won’t cement any reputations. They may be right. I know their books sell well (for poetry books), but they must be losing out on a vast potential audience by not engaging with Net readers. At the moment, they are fine and get plenty of publicity on the Web through newspapers (the traditional outlets online), prize shortlists, and the sense among UK readers (it still exists, I think) that a new Faber book is an important event. They are trading off their reputations, which is a fair enough strategy. But is it adequate to ensure a readership for poetry in the future? It’s hard to believe it is. As Ron Silliman says, “everything is up for grabs.”

New Mimesis

I had a backlog of stuff that had been queuing up for attention and this week has been really busy – hence the lack of blog posts. Not that I’ve had nothing to say, there’s just been no time to say it.

One thing I should mention is that the new issue of Mimesis is out, issue 6. It features poems and articles by several names that will make this issue well worth reading. I’m pleased to have three poems in there.

I don’t have any poems under consideration by editors at the moment – I haven’t submitted anything since June, and I really ought to send a few out. I have several publishable poems all ready, but I’m unsure where to submit them.

That said, I haven’t actually written a new poem for about three months, which is a long time for me, although I have an idea that my brain, even now (with any luck) is working on subconsciously. I’ve learned that’s how I write best, if I don’t jump in too quickly when armed with an idea and a few phrases. Sooner or later, if I keep the idea in mind, a line or two will start to form and the tone/shape of the poem will become clearer. All this can change when I start writing, of course, but starting a poem too quickly usually produces substandard work.

The Future Of Salt

Bad news from Salt. Due to the economic downturn, the business has struggled. It looked, at first, like Salt would have to cancel all its remaining scheduled publications for 2009, although there is talk that a few of those books may now be published.

Salt isn’t bankrupt. It’s still trading and all the books you see on its website (including my own collection) are still available and will continue to be available. But it’s going to have to operate on a much smaller scale in the future. It’s a real tragedy for Chris and Jen who have put so much of their time, energy and passion into the business. The other main loss here is for British poetry – for poets and readers. With a bit of luck, Salt might have fully established itself as a major force in UK poetry publishing, financially stable, much like Bloodaxe did a couple of decades ago, and it’s a force that is much needed. So much that’s been exciting in poetry in the last few years has been brought to view though Salt. What it has achieved has been considerable, but it’s now going to have to cut back.

Whatever happens, it shows how precarious life is for small publishers at the moment, particularly those who are attempting to produce quality literature. Even if, like Salt, you win loads of prizes and are short-listed for many top awards, even if you are recognised as one of the best publishers of poetry and short stories out there, even if you have the best website and a furious work ethic, you’re still competing with a culture that feeds us with celebrity cookbooks and kiss-and-tell biographies on its shop windows, and ‘3 for 2’ special-offer novels, which account for a massive percentage of UK book sales, are its most visible promotion.

Anyway, if you’re wondering what to read next, you could do far worse than go to the Salt website and choose a couple of titles. There’s almost no chance you’ll be disappointed.

*

Here's a message from Chris Hamilton-Emery, Salt's director:

"Here's how you can help us to save Salt.

JUST ONE BOOK

1. Please buy just one book, right now. We don't mind from where, you can buy it from us or from Amazon, your local shop or megastore, online or offline. If you buy just one book now, you'll help to save Salt. Timing is absolutely everything here. We need cash now to stay afloat. If you love literature, help keep it alive. All it takes is just one book sale. Go to our online store and help us keep going.

Salt UK and International Store

Salt USA Store

2. Share this note on your Facebook and MySpace profile [and on your blogs]. Tell your friends. If we can spread the word about our cash crisis, we can hopefully find more sales and save our literary publishing. Remember it's just one book, that's all it takes to save us. Please do it now.

With my best wishes to everyone
Chris"

At Sunny Dunny

An interesting discussion brewing over at Colin Will’s blog on pamphlet publication, on why some people advise against it, and how best to develop new poets in Scotland.

Letters From Our Editor

It’s possible that some people may not yet have looked at Chris Hamilton-Emery’s hilarious Letters from our Editor series, featuring spoofed correspondence between various poet-submitters and editor, Albert D. Sump – I say ‘spoofed’, but much of it is apparently based on reality. The mind boggles!

e.g. "Hey Man,

You think you’re smart. I’m gonna cut you up, Bud. I’ll spread this everywhere you jackass. You don’t know nothing. You publish shit. I think I’ll die of boredom. I think everyone in Canada would love to know about you. You don’t understand nothing. You fake. You’re just fake, a total fake. Faker. Fake ass. I’ll write to everyone you publish on Facebook and let them know what you’re like. You’re totally dead. I’ll give you one chance right just read this poem and you’ll get it or I will do this, man. I mean it..."

More on the 5,000 Books

Anyone thinking over the issues raised in the YouWriteOn.com controversy, discussed a few days ago on this blog, ought to read the articles flagged up by Jane Smith during the comments – at her own blog and at Writer Beware. Fascinating stuff!

I guess that ACE must have granted its money in good faith, but I hope it's paying due attention to what’s being done by this organisation.

Public Funding and Self-Publishing

I was astonished to read a story on the blueblog (the blog of bluechrome press) about YouWriteOn.com, a group offering to produce books for the first 5000 people who apply from either the UK or USA free of charge. They’ll produce the books before Christmas so, essentially, this is a Christmas present for the 5000 to give to friends and family. Anyone wanting an ISBN has to pay a small sum (less than £40) and their book will become available in the usual outlets.

It’s self-publishing. Nothing unfamiliar about that these days. But how can this organisation do this free of charge? The answer is that ACE, the Arts Council of England, has funded the project. This is the real controversy for me. Why should public money be used in this way? It’s no longer possible to argue that the project is democratic, that it gives people a chance to publish a book who otherwise couldn’t have done so. Groups like Lulu.com enable this very same thing. Lulu charges, but doesn’t rip people off like traditional vanity publishers – the charge is reasonable. So why should UK taxes be used to fund a self-publishing project without any attempt at quality control? Funding isn’t easy to come by. Other literary publishers will have lost out on the funding that has been given to this organisation. I’d like to see the Arts Council try to justify this decision, and they ought to justify it – it’s UK taxpayers’ money that finances them.

Self-publishing has become a controversial topic in recent times. Anthony Delgrado (at least I presume the blueblog is written by AD – if not, I’ll make a correction) asks what has driven the change in attitude over the last few years, given that organisations like Lulu are now seen as “cool rather than seedy.” Well, there are no doubt many answers to that question. One can argue, for instance, that the presence of organisations like Lulu make it less likely that naïve writers will fall victim to the worst vanity press merchants. Why pay a fortune to have your book published by a traditional vanity press when Lulu will do it for a relatively small sum? The worst vanity presses might be kicked out of business for good.

Also, while most books published via the likes of Lulu have no literary merit and will largely sell only to the author’s friends and family (if that), some writers of genuine quality have taken a deliberate decision to self-publish (even though their writing is of sufficient quality to have had a chance with literary publishers) – people like Julie Carter, Rik Roots, and Nic Sebastian, for example. They have the capability of selling copies using their profile on the Web, and their work is of good quality. Their motivations may vary. It might be simply because they can (successfully), or because they distrust the ‘win-our-competition-and-be-published’ scene in North America (high charges for entry and a [allegedly] suspiciously large proportion of winners from specific college MFA programs contribute to this distrust), or because they can’t be bothered to submit in the traditional way, or because they regard their work as too unfashionable to interest a publisher etc.

Of course, a recognised literary publisher can offer things that self-publishing can’t, and I think it's true that there is an automatic suspicion of self-published books, an expectation that the quality will be poor (usually, but not always, justified). Most literary awards won't consider them. There's a sense that they don't "count" as publication, not really, and I can see why. If publication means no more than "printed" (to use the blueblog's phrasing), then publication means nothing, given its technological ease. However, I’d hazard a guess that quality, self-published collections by such as Rik, Julie and Nic will sell more copies than many books published by traditional publishers. And this is the key factor - for those with a quality product and the ability to market themselves, the World Wide Web has opened up new avenues to sell books far beyond the usual family and friends who bought self-published books in the pre-Internet world. I don’t see that changing.

However, I don’t think this will adversely hit the more traditional literary publishers, particularly those who use the Web to good effect. They should always be able to extend a writer’s audience wider than he/she could have managed if self-published and – if they typically publish good books – they create trust in a list among writers and readers. Good writers will always want to be published by good publishers and, if you read a few books from bluchrome and enjoy them, chances are you’ll be interested in more. That will never be the case with Lulu!

Here's to 2009

Well, I decided I’d had enough of messing about with my poetry collection manuscript and submitted it. I suspect I’ve left a few poems out that should have been in, but perhaps not. I have plenty of poems, but wanted to choose only the best. However, these decisions are never easy to make.

Anyway, it’s been accepted! Salt are going to be publish it sometime in 2009. Its provisional title is The Opposite of Cabbage (from a line in one of the poems). I had to either add a few pages or cut a few pages and I chose to cut. That’s very much my nature when it comes to poems – I’ll cut every time.

I’ve really enjoyed many Salt books in the last few years, but never believed I would be part of that list. It’s a good feeling though…

Why Bother?

I wrote this last night. I haven’t a clue what I’m going to do with it. I hardly ever post my poems to this blog these days, but I thought (rightly or wrongly) that it might amuse (maybe "amuse" isn't quite the right word) some people. I'll no doubt remove the poem after a short time.

The fact that I bothered going to the trouble of revising it this morning might go some way to answering Nic’s question, which in turn was a response to Quincy’s comments on how getting a poetry collection published doesn’t result in fame, riches, greater sexual attraction, or even selling more than a few hundred copies (if you’re lucky) - his comments are fairly accurate, by the way.

Why bother then? Because poetry is an obsession. Even if book sales are disappointing. Even if the poem doesn’t matter to anyone else. If it's still necessary to write it, then it's worth getting "out there" at least to give people a choice on whether to ignore it or not.

- poem deleted -

Andrew Philip on Salt!

Great news! My friend, and fellow HappenStance poet, Andrew Philip, has been signed by Salt Publications. They will publish Andy’s first collection, The Ambulance Box, probably sometime in 2009.

As you’ll see from Andy’s blog entry, I’ve read a few versions of his manuscript in draft form. I suspect it would have been accepted for publication even the way it was first time I read it, but he’s taken his time and strengthened it over the last nine months or so. It will be a really good book!

Ten Questions on Publication

Here are my responses to the Ten Questions posed at Very Like a Whale. It’s possible that I’d answer these differently from one day to another, so take them with a pinch of salt. I have published exactly one chapbook/pamphlet and am at work on the manuscript for a possible debut full collection.

1. Describe your publishing trajectory. (Where did it start? Where is it now? How long have you been at it?)

About 20 years ago, I sent poems to Iron Magazine (no longer with us) and received a kind reply from the editor suggesting I read more poetry. As he hadn’t recognised what I imagined (insanely) to be my genius, I didn’t take his advice and instead concentrated in writing song lyrics and playing in a band. Around 1998, I began writing and reading poetry again. My first published poems were in 1999, two poems in New Writing Scotland. I moved to Italy, published poems in the little magazines, and five years later moved back to Scotland where HappenStance Press was starting up. I went to the launch of the first two pamphlets, was impressed, submitted a batch of poems, fully expecting a rejection six months later, but instead got an acceptance a few days later. The pamphlet came out in December 2005. Since then I’ve been writing poems and reviews. Recently I’ve been putting together a manuscript – when it’s ready, I hope it will become my first full collection.

2. What would you do differently if you had to start all over again?

At times, I wish I’d read more poetry and learned to write it earlier in life. However, it may be that I simply wasn’t equipped to write poetry in my twenties. There’s no real point in wishing to have done things differently. Things might have worked out better if I’d been more committed earlier, but they might have turned out worse. Who can tell?

3. Why did you start seeking publication? Why do you continue?

I had written poems. Poems are there to be read and that’s why I sought publication. These days, I want a) to have my poems appear along with others’ in magazines I like and, b) to gain readers by having pamphlets and books of my work published. I could do that by self-publishing, or by uploading all my poems onto this blog, but I’ve always preferred the validation and the kudos of having other people publish my work – or not, as the case may be.

4. Does your relationship with your work change after it is published and if so, how? How does the concept of publication affect your writing in general?

I don’t think my relationship with my work changes at all after publication. As time goes past, I like some of my published poems more than others. Some poems I regret having published at all. I never try to tailor my work to appeal to editors or publishers. Of course, I read magazines I submit to and don’t send work I know they would never dream of publishing, but I write the poems I want to write, now more so than ever. No compromise!

5. Talk about putting a chapbook together. How have you done it in the past, how would you do it differently now? Why are chapbooks a good thing or not a good thing?

Helena Nelson from HappenStance asked for 10-12 poems in the initial submission. After the acceptance came through, I had to send everything I thought might work in the chapbook. Helena made comments and editing suggestions on all those poems – some got a simple thumbs-up, some got an immediate thumbs-down (my poor old villanelle!), and I made revisions to others. The process showed me the importance of a good editor. If I was doing one now, I’d probably have more idea of what poems would work together and what order they should go in etc. I like chapbooks. They are short, usually good value, and are an effective way of getting poems to a readership, especially if you are prepared to get out there and sell them.

6. What’s your advice to someone putting together a full-length poetry manuscript for the first time? Share your thoughts on the importance (or not) of narrative arc in poetry manuscripts.

Make sure there are no passengers i.e. no weak poems. Keep trying to improve it. Make sure there are at least a few really fantastic poems. I don’t think narrative arc is important in the least. It’s a curiously fashionable idea. That said, care should be taken over the order of the poems. Even if no one has a clue why you chose that order, you should know! But sheer brilliance of writing makes for a great book, arc or no arc.
Some kind of rationale behind the collection is useful for a publisher to market it and, consequently, is useful for the poet to 'sell' his/her manuscript to a publisher. But I don't think all the poems need to fit the rationale, and some may do so only by a supreme act of poetic imagination.

7. Do you personally market your publications? If so, why and how, and do you enjoy it? If not, why not?

I must have mentioned The Clown of Natural Sorrow so many times on this blog by now. There’s no escape from it. The Clown will haunt your dreams and nightmares if you read this blog too often. Or if you don’t go to the link and buy The Clown immediately! I also do readings whenever I can and generally try to flog the chapbook to anyone with even a flicker of interest in poetry. That said, I haven’t found it easy to sell my poetry. I’m not naturally into talking myself up. It’s that Scottish thing – you can’t push yourself forward too far or you’ll get a sharp “Who do you think you are?” retort. There are serious dangers in having an ego here – there’s always someone waiting to “trip you up and laugh when you fall,” as Morrissey put it.

8. Complete the following sentences: Big-name poetry publishers are…..

Usually (in the UK at least) fairly small concerns with a passion for poetry. Or tiny poetry imprints connected to huge companies that publish all kinds of stuff. They can market and distribute books wider than small publishers. They vary widely. Some might seem a little “safe” in their choices of who to publish, but others certainly aren’t. They are businesses who need to sell books, but if they were in it for the money alone, they’d publish celebrity autobiographies. So, at heart, they are a contradiction in terms – not in a bad way.

9. Small- and micro-presses are…

Usually tiny concerns with a passion for poetry. They will publish books and chapbooks that they feel will enhance their reputation, that they think will sell, and that they believe in one hundred percent. They are generally unpaid and overworked. A sense of humour is a must. They are vital for poetry, always have been and always will be.

10. Describe the ideal relationship with a publisher and the relationship with a publisher from hell.

I have a good relationship with my publisher. She put out a good quality product and I met my deadlines. Communication was good. She did what she could to help sell the book (a launch, a web presence, sending review copies etc) and I played my part as best I could. We worked well together when creating the chapbook and we get on well personally. I guess a bad relationship would entail these things not happening on both sides.

Questions for Poets

Poets are asking questions! And answering them too. To be exact, Nic S from Very Like a Whale is asking a batch of poets (one each week) 10 questions on the subject of publication. I’m tempted to have a shot at these myself.

In addition, Poet Hound has 5 more questions and asks you to email her your answers, which she’ll post to her blog next month. I did it a couple of days ago.

Pretending Poems Don't Exist

I decided that I no longer care much for some of the poems I've published - some in print mags, some in webzines - that have ended up on the web and were linked to from the right-hand column on this blog.

So I've just deleted those particular links. The poems are still out there, of course, but I can now at least pretend to myself that they're not.