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regular diary from Salmon Poetry's editor, Jessie Lendennie Hello, We all know exactly where we were when we heard of, or saw, those planes striking the World Trade Center; it is permanently branded on my consciousness - I was right here at my computer starting a new Publisher's Diary. When Tim called out "This looks serious" I went downstairs where he had turned on the television and Siobhan had come in from the office. We, like millions of others, were shocked beyond reason. The first words to come to me were "We've lost our humanity". I think we sat in front of the television for a week. It seemed to take a long time for the facts to be absorbed. We weren't alone in that. Now, seven months later (and, some say, in a different world) we are in the thick of our Spring/Summer book schedule. I realize that I have neglected the Diary - in fact didn't finish what I was writing on September 11. So here it is, an extended thought: I just received a phone call from a poet who wanted to read his poems to me over the phone, and then send them in for publication. A very nice guy, full of the necessary conviction that his work is special. I told him that I wasn't able to take new work for a while yet, that I have to cut back our yearly output. As I said that I was struck yet again by the vast gap between the excitement in creating poetry, the deeply held emotional commitment to poetry, and the mechanics of learning how to get your poetry published. To adequately explain how "poetry works in the commercial world" over the phone to a person whose emotions are totally wrapped up in the special rapport of feeling and expression, to tell him that these feelings and perceptions must be shaped in certain ways; that what he thinks of as an exhilarating freedom must in the end be treated as a commodity....... Well, that's hard to do. the difficulty is that he and many poets who are beginning to think about publication would not relate this to their own work. I guess that's a necessary part of the determination to get published, but it does seem to cause a lot of people to abandon their art when they run into seeming rejections. Well, I gave him the best advice I could, including: Send out individual poems to literary journals, e-zines and other good, sound outlets before trying book publication; join a good workshop if possible; read contemporary poetry in order to acclimatize himself in the current literary world. He had done none of these things so far and couldn't understand what that had to do with his work which many people told him was a "gold mine". He said that he was going to try self-publication, and I didn't discourage him. The main drawback with self-publication is that bookshops don't normally stock self-published work; nor reviewers review it. Also, the stigma of 'vanity' publishing can mark one's work no matter how good the work. However since poetry books tend to be sold through readings; word of mouth; friends, it can be very handy to have a book and there are, in fact, excellent precedents for self-publishing. Research on all the aspects of self-publishing is advisable. Of course, e-technology and e-publishing are shaking up the whole concept of publishing - and often for the better. My word of caution is to stay in control of the process at all times, and research the publisher/printer you're dealing with very carefully. To get back to the point, and perhaps it's just me, but the longer I am involved with the publishing of poetry the more I see how poetry dies when the initial impulse is lost. In other words, no matter how accomplished or successful we become, if the initial sustaining spark is gone, if publishing takes precedence over true discovery, then the work will suffer. The "trick" is to balance and stay focused. Publishing will follow from the necessity to share your work once it is honed and one's integrity and full critical ability have been brought to bear on its worth as art. Jessie Read Jessie's earlier diaries: May 2002 | July 2001 | March 2000 | October 2000
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