Monday, September 19, 2005

Long time coming

I don't need a calendar to remind me how busy September is. I could easily climb to the top of the paper pile and rappel straight down to the wooden surface of my desk.

This is an event-heavy month. I have a health event with author Donna Hicken Saturday, September 24, and then will introduce Patricia Gray, author of RUPTURE and director of Poetry at Noon at the Library of Congress next Thursday, September 29. Ms. Gray is our special guest for the Community Poetry Series I facilitate six or seven times a year for Mandarin's Barnes and Noble location.

I'm juggling several different assignments for newspapers and magazines, one on an organization that repairs homes for needy and disabled people; another a review of the movie Bears; yet another that will feature Billy Collins once he and I make contact. Still working on other projects--poetry and my novel. Got accepted as a professional member of the Online News Association. Will soon add a new site to my assembly, creativewriter.us. I'm putting it together as a resource and news site for writers; it'll be useful especially to those who come to the workshops and presentations I do here and there.

And of course still advocating for Taylor Wells, whose hearing has been advanced to November. Beth Ciofoletti has the scoop on that at her blog( http://justicefortaylor.blogspot.com/) I'm working on an essay that I'll post in a few days.

Books of note include KRAKATOA by Simon Winchester and ZEN FISHING by Dorothy Fletcher. Both are exceptional reads--Winchester's book explores not only the volcano eruption but also scientific minds like Charles Darwin and others whose work influenced both Darwin's and scientists of today. Dorothy's book is a combination of essays and poetry; she's an excellent wordsmith. I'm reviewing that book for the Pen Women magazine.

I'll try to get back in the swing of regular posting. I've been trying to deal with a back injury that occurred some months ago, courtesy of the beagle hound trying to play with our cat who leapt onto my leg then dug his claws in. I basically fell backwards. But I was in a squatting position, trying to empty the filter basket on the pool. Good thing is I have plenty of padding on the backside to cushion the fall. Bad thing is a disk is aggravated and the heavy summer travel didn't help.

So there you go. An update. Finally.

Best to all,
Kay Day

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Ramblings: poetry, unexpected; challenges of the book biz

Poets will know what I’m talking about. One minute you’re sitting there with a mountain of work. And a line or two just drops right in. It’s an assault on the spirit in a way, and there’s not much to be done about it. Then you’re off on that poetry tangent, the one that I call a creative seizure. Time ceases to be of consequence. I have burned dinner because of a poem.

Lately, there’s been a lot of commotion. I switched to a laptop for all my computing, keeping the desktop for our daughters. For some reason, the tech couldn’t get my email to switch over. I couldn’t get all my web site files to switch over. I’m trying to adjust to a tighter keyboard and I don't really miss the mouse that much. But I love the portability of the laptop. We moved my office to a bigger room, one with lots of windows and a view of the back yard. Much more creative environment. The claustrophobia I experienced in the smaller, windowless room (now a supply room) dissolved.

I realized yesterday I’m booked tightly with events, pretty much through early January, 2006. I’m hoping to take time off in December; if I don’t, I’ll be in trouble with my family. Received a review request from a distinguished writer from India; made my publisher and me feel good. Prepared the final outline and chapter-by-chapter summaries for my new book; wrote a few freelance pieces, got an assignment from a new editor who is very nice. Prepped news releases and the print newsletter for readers on my mail list; sent out the email newsletter. Skimmed the best-seller list and groaned.—Dracula, James Patterson and meeting people in heaven. Only McCullough’s nonfiction book saved me from going into an intellectual coma. I love that book.

So there it is. And sitting here, distracting me wildly, the poem I penned in the midst of it all.

Friday, August 05, 2005

The Tour, the tensions, the times

After returning from the latest tour stops in Miami and Savannah, I confronted enough paperwork to drive a writer nuts. My email knew no bounds. The message center held greetings from a number of callers. In the middle of all this, I took a call from a person who is considering freelancing for a career. He seemed to expect me to deliver a course in Freelance 101 on the phone.

Assorted emails contain writings from various people who’ve visited my author Net site. If I critiqued them all, I’d be busy for a week and get absolutely nothing else done. Plus, if you do comment on a stranger’s work, s/he will never be satisfied unless you say something like, you are the greatest poet since Walt Whitman. Emily Dickinson is writhing with jealousy in her grave.

There were some bright spots too. The Barnes and Noble where I facilitate the Community Poetry Series invited me to be a featured author at their Tenth Anniversary Party. I had a good freelance month, with five new pieces soon-to-be released from various publications.

I'm looking forward to hosting a reading and presentation by Patricia Gray, director of Poetry at Noon at the Library of Congress. Patricia has a new book out, Rupture.

I don't know her personally, but she's swinging South on her own tour and I'm delighted to help introduce her work and LOC information session to our area poets and poetry lovers.

Book sales are strong in stores, but they’re lousy at amazon. I’m satisfied with the status at amazon, though. My publisher is a small press, and his profits and royalties from book sales there are dismal. The site crawls with used books, many of which are new and some of which were given free to reviewers who will, under no circumstances, review your book. If you’re not a top tier author, a discount site is of little benefit. Everywhere I go, I tell audiences, please do not buy my book at amazon.

Another bright spot is the retreat Dorothy Fletcher and I are planning. We found a gorgeous site for WORDSTREAM.

Thunder sounds in the background as I type.

The new book is going well; it looks like a late 2006 release. Otherwise, I’m wading through email and paperwork.

I wanted to ask the fellow on the phone, after he told me he’d decided to consider freelancing.

Are you sure you want to work that hard?

Sunday, July 31, 2005

Roundup

Glad to be home for a bit

These weeks are filled with book events and work-related duties. I’m glad to be back home for a bit, even if the office is knee deep in paper. Coming up on August 11 is a signing at the new Barnes and Noble in Jacksonville. Located at St. John’s Town Center, the store invited me to sign with several other authors from the area. Dorothy Fletcher, who’s also signing, and I will have information about our new writers’ retreat, Wordstream. Dorothy and I are teaming up to facilitate these retreats every few months or so, always in a location by a river. We’re aiming at a writing experience, as opposed to a standard workshop.

Savannah

Savannah was great. The Barnes and Noble at Oglethorpe Mall is a big, bustling super store. The traffic was insane. Yesterday was a sales tax holiday in Georgia, so everyone was out picking up back-to-school books and supplies. As is often the case, my new book Killing Earl sparked some interesting conversations. I talked with several parents whose children are experiencing hard-to-diagnose illnesses. It’s becoming more evident to me that dealing with the medical profession can be perplexing even for those of us who are educated.

A highlight of yesterday’s event was meeting a young man named Jared who is from a small Georgia town. Jared is a serious writer. He picked up my poetry book, and I gave him some information. I thought about him today. I’ll bet that one of these days, he’ll be signing his own book.

After the event, I went with fellow writers to Belford’s . It’s a fine restaurant near City Market. They do their crab cakes tall rather than flat—they’re supposed to be the best, and they surely looked that way. Ken Bell, Joyce Dixon, Janet Carr-Hull, Kathryn Wall and I (with my husband Ran and Kathryn’s husband Norman) really had a good time talking shop. A fine writer, Joyce Dixon is also the ultimate nurturer for Southern writers (well, we’re calling Kathryn Southern because she lives here now and we keep forgetting she’s a transplant). Joyce’s Southern Scribe is a great literary resource for all writers, and we thank her for organizing this event.

Net nuggets
A source of valuable information to me lately is Jim Amaral. I know Jim through Southern Scribe. Jim’s our Computer Guru. I’ve been looking at laptops, and he’s really helped me out. Jim writes a column, Cybermac for The Columbus Dispatch.

My friend W. Thomas Smith, Jr., has been named executive editor of World Defense Review, Reporting War . This news site is updated twice weekly; a variety of viewpoints and positions are featured. I read several articles. Dr. Alma Bond’s feature America’s First Woman Warrior caught my eye for two reasons: the woman warrior angle plus the fact Dr. Bond reviewed Killing Earl recently. I don’t know this distinguished writer, but her article is fascinating. I printed it for my daughter who’s interested in empowered females, being one herself.

You’ll note some new links I’ve added on the right column. One, Sarah Weinstein’s blog offers a wealth of information about writing and the book biz. Check out her post of July 26, and the breakdown on sales outlets for a sample best-seller. I’d no idea the impact Wal-Mart can have on book sales.

Finally, I've added a new page to my Net site, Patient Communications. The page offers tips for dealing with chronic illness.

Monday, July 25, 2005

Mim-Mo magic

Miami is a city of sensations. Music dances around each corner. Spanish and English bounce off the street like staccato notes. Humidity settles onto brown skin and white skin. Expectations hang in the night air as clubs come alive.

We stayed at the Omni Colonnade on Aragon Avenue, just a block away from Books and Books. The hotel was phenomenal—a historic structure featuring heavy crystal chandeliers, gurgling fountains and artwork depicting times long ago when the city was in its infancy. The rooftop pool is a work of art. We chose this hotel because we combined a much needed vacation with my work obligations. They gave us a great rate because it was partly a business trip and we needed two rooms since our daughters came along. We were also able to walk everywhere we wanted to go in Coral Gables. We only drove the car when we went to South Beach the next day.

I signed that night at the bookstore and if you never visit another bookstore, go to Books and Books. The place feels more like a library than a retail establishment. Shelves run from floor to ceiling, and there’s a courtyard where various events including music performances take place. There’s a café, and large rooms filled with books and items related to books.

I was happy that a respectable number of people came to hear my presentation. I didn’t count because I never had time. I realized after I spoke that Killing Earl really touches people in a way I didn’t anticipate. One woman came with her daughter who is experiencing a mystery illness of her own. Another woman came because I’d spoken to her mother’s book club in another city last year. Everything fell together nicely.

After my event, we had dinner with Beth Cioffoletti and her husband John. Beth is the woman whose email changed my life a few months ago, resulting in my tackling another book quite a bit earlier than I’d planned. We had a meal and drinks together at Puchetta Restaurant a few blocks from the bookstore. What a restaurant—a very diverse menu, with fresh seafood and food prepared with no canned or processed foods. Pastas are made on-site. Our host made us feel as though we were dining in someone’s home.

We did South Beach while we were there, and enjoyed the Mi-Mo architecture of the hotels. We had lunch just across from dunes and seagrass, and the food was excellent. A group of Hare Krishna disciples filled the air with music; pretty young girls with cigar boxes strapped to their bodies wandered up and down the boulevard.

In all, the combo business-pleasure trip was a resounding success and a much needed respite. If you sign anywhere, sign in Miami.

Next up is this weekend in Savannah, city #4 on my tour. As always, come and see me if you’re in the neighborhood near the Oglethorpe Mall Barnes and Noble.

Thursday, July 21, 2005

Miami Bound

First thing tomorrow, I head for the tip of Florida. Well, close to the tip. I’m signing tomorrow evening at Books & Books in Coral Gables. I’ve never been to Miami, so I’m looking forward to experiencing the city.

Spent the day re-writing a piece for one of my favorite editors. I displeased him a bit with a piece I did. I thought about it this evening and realized that when I admire an editor, I am so disappointed in myself when I don’t get things exactly right.

Early this morning, before the Florida heat set in, I cut the front yard. Note: we Southerners say “cut the grass” rather than “mow the lawn.” I love to cut grass. It is soothing to me, and I take pleasure in knowing that despite 50 years on my body, a body I did my best to wreck in my college years, I can still do such things and feel great afterwards. With the heat index, it was close to 100 degrees.

We have fairly new neighbors who are astounded when they see me doing our grass. We’re one of the few families in the neighborhood without a yard man. All I can say is, to a Southerner, the heat is a familiar. I grew up in a home without air conditioning. As a child, I was banished to the yard from sunrise to sunset every day in summertime.

Of course, you have to know how to deal with the heat: how to breathe, how to cool off, how to eat light foods, how to pump yourself full of water the day before you’ll be doing a waltz with the sun. I always take a small hand towel outside with me, and a thermo-glass with ice water. When I finish mowing (we have a big front yard), I take the towel and wet it with the ice water. Then I wipe my face with it and lay it across my neck. The sensation is exquisite. Such a simple pleasure, really. I usually pray for a small breeze, and I almost always get one. I figure there’s an angel flitting around, one who looks for old Southern gals crazy enough to be out in the mid-morning sun, in a state of exertion. There is a purity in sweat that I cannot describe.

I should point out I wouldn’t be caught dead on a riding mower.

See you again next week when I have a couple days back in Jax before going to Savannah, Georgia.

If you’re in Miami tomorrow, come and see me.

Saturday, July 16, 2005

Harry and me

Spent the day in Fernandina Beach. Books Plus, in the downtown district, was the second stop on my tour. The shop is one of my favorite book stores of all time. Wooden floors, big showroom, comfy chairs. Regional authors get their books displayed up front. Don Shaw has been a big supporter of my work, so I was very glad to be able to visit his store. The store is nestled on a block with quaint shops and eateries. The district was wise enough to hang onto its old buildings and trees, and the result is a village-like atmosphere.

I met a variety of people—one woman who travels a lot told me about the challenges of maintaining the three homes she and her husband own, a problem I will never have, I am certain. She brought a reference book to the register and asked if there was another copy in the store. Mrs. Shaw, the co-owner, said there wasn’t. The customer pointed to a tiny bent corner on the back cover. “See, that will drive me crazy,” she said. Mrs. Shaw offered her a 10% discount. No way. Amazing to me the patience a businessperson has to have.

I didn’t have a banner day, but I had a great time. J. K. Rowling had a double banner day.Today was, for those who may have been on a deserted island this week, Harry Potter Day and it belonged to the tweens. One girl walked in, grabbed her book and began to thumb through it while her mother paid. As she left, book held in her arms like a baby, the smile on her face would’ve been fodder for a visual artist.

Florida-related titles do well there; books about locales and of course, mysteries. I made a mental note: must write a mystery one of these days.

After the signing, my husband picked me up—he and the girls had gone exploring while I signed. We went to Slider’s grill and sat outside on the terrace. The ocean breeze was perfect. The water is a deep blue color; the sea oats glistened and the shine seemed to say, “All is well.” We drank a couple of Coronas with lime and, for the first time, tried Florida’s famous fried pickle slices (served with Ranch dressing). I didn’t think I’d like them, but they were surprisingly good and light. I told the girls Southern cooks will fry just about anything.

Then we headed back to Jacksonville. This was an easy tour stop because we only live about 40 minutes from Fernandina Beach. The nicest part was being able to come back and sleep in my own bed rather than at a hotel.

Next week, once I’m done with a piece for the newspaper and some other assorted projects, we head for Miami where I’ll sign in Coral Gables, tour stop #3. Everybody raves about Books and Books. So we’ll see what excitements lay ahead.

Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Tour heats up; poets & publishing part III

Work these days is a challenge because of Earl-related projects. Plus Taylor’s case is cooking up; a story will be out in a major Florida newspaper soon. I’ll keep you posted--the reporter just interviewed me yesterday.

In the next 10 days, I’ll sign in Fernandina Beach, Miami and Savannah. Details are always posted on my Author Visits page. If you’re near any of those areas, come by and say hello.




How my poetry got published

We decided on the Florida move shortly after my self-published collection came out. I’d originally planned to do a small scale book tour. But then my daughter got sick, America was attacked, and the housing market in our area was like the last pancake on a plate: flat, cold and unappetizing.

Of course, that all resolved itself in time, and in 2002, we finally reunited the family in Florida. I did a few book events after joining Florida Writers’ Association, an organization that connected me to Caryn Suarez, consummate events organizer. Barnes and Noble asked me to start facilitating their poetry group and that evolved into the Community Poetry Series. Two different publishers, both respected by many in the lit field, approached me about doing my book. I declined because neither publisher was a good fit for my situation. Sounds crazy I know, but who gets rich off poetry? You may as well hold out for what you want.

A subsidy press also approached me, but that wasn’t an option. I already had two presses who’d invest their own money. Why should I invest my own?

Then I met a publisher, Frank Gromling, at a writers’ festival. We talked and I liked his vision for his press, Ocean Publishing, and he was impressive. So I began to urge him to publish my work. He declined a couple of times, explaining that poetry wasn’t something he knew how to market. I persisted. We talked a few more times. Eventually, he agreed, and one of the most significant relationships in my career was formed.

Bear in mind that my ability to find a publisher was based on personal contact, on people who knew me, who’d heard me read, and who knew I would work. All the presses were commercial. They made their money from book sales, not from contest fees.

A press driven by sales is the only one I can support. I figure if the press survives, it means the books drove that success rather than a lot of naïve people who cough up fees to have their manuscripts rejected. Don’t take offense if you’ve won a major literary contest. That’s fine by me. But I think unless you’re very cozy with literati or involved in an academic program, you are not likely to win such a contest. I wrote about this in my first book, long before others were looking at contests in a suspect way. So if you’re, say, a banker by day and a poet by night, keep your contest fee. Just my personal opinion.

Anyway, the book came out, I hit the road, and we sold enough copies—I honestly don’t know exactly how many because I haven’t added up all the royalty reports. I stopped adding at around 600 copies and that was last year. A year ago, my publisher said he printed 2,000 and had 1,000 more to distribute (Jacksonville Business Journal, 12-31-03). I spoke to a lot of groups, mostly professional or educational groups, and read at a lot of festivals and bookstores. Most of the people who bought my book are not poets, or at least the ones who bought a signed copy.

So then my publisher agreed to do my nonfiction book and we are seeing a lot of interest and book stores always say ‘yes’ when I want to sign and the nonfiction book outsells the poetry book by a ratio of roughly 12:1.

Sad but true.

Throughout the years I submitted to magazines and saw my work get published in respected journals, though not the type that your average AWP type lusts after. I don’t really submit poetry to many journals, although I did recently receive a rejection from Pedestal, the online magazine. I have options for publishing another poetry book once I’m finished editing new work, but the next book out will be Taylor’s story and that’s nonfiction. But I figure I’d just as soon see most of my poetry published in a collection rather than journals in various incarnations. Plus I just don’t have time to do a lot of poetry submitting these days.

That’s basically my story.

I’ll do a sort of publishing tips for poets for part IV. Then I’m going to put this series on my Net site. That way, when poets email me and ask how they can get their book published, I can tell them good luck and send them a link.

Question, if you’re reading:
How’d you get your poetry published?
I know there will not be too many responses, but we may get one or two of interest.

Saturday, July 09, 2005

Hurricanes in Florida

Hurricanes are a Southern familiar. This poem was first presented at the SEBA trade show in September, 2004, when I read as part of the late night readings sponsored by Simon and Schuster. Admittedly, paganism and Christianity dance with me at times concurrently,largely owing to my ancestry. At any rate, the poem seems appropriate at the moment.

Our last weather update forecasts a lot of rain, wind and possible tornadic activity--we're on the East coast, so at the moment, it looks like the mother storm will miss us, dealing us only the outer bands.



Storm Warning


Two loaves of bread shine on the shelf at Winn-Dixie.
Bread is valuable, because another hurricane
is aiming at Florida. Store aisles fill
with seekers of water and ice, and canned food
that will be eaten only if She hits us. Brown
black and white we smile with more nice
than normal. Our words shape fear into chuckles.

One man says, “I’m not going anywhere.
I die I die right here.” Our hands inspect apples
and melons. “Can’t nothin’ be bad as Andrew.”

We savor the comfort of lies. “This,” says a woman
cradling oranges, “is the price we pay for living in Paradise.”
Reassured by bread and batteries, we nestle in the arms
of our she-storm—watchful—wide-eyed
siblings taking turns at Mother’s bitter breast.



Wednesday, July 06, 2005

More tour notes; Pt. II Poets who want to publish

There's so little time right now, because of project deadlines for freelance work and of course, the book tour. So I'm late with this second post. I'm using this blog to create a map for how I did what I wanted to do with my work, in hopes it will save me re-typing answers to email from poets who want to know how to get their books published.



How my poetry got published, part II

There was never a time in my life, once I could form words on paper, when I didn’t write. Poetry has always been and will always be my strongest inclination, but I also enjoy writing fiction and nonfiction.

I chose the college I wanted to attend because a poet I admired taught there. He was a “famous” poet, a very learned man. I spent 4 years studying with him and several other writers who taught there. I formed life-long relationships with some of them, in the sense of friendships based on intellectual interests.

I practiced writing in different forms in my classes, but my tendency during those years was almost exclusively free verse when I could choose. Even then, there were illusions of meter, because to me sound lends a dimension to poetry much in the way variations in chords influence a song. I studied music for 11 years as a child, so I am certain this influences my poetics.

I continued to read poetry from different time periods. I submitted work to my university’s literary magazine and to magazines at other colleges. I simply sent the poem with a straightforward letter along the lines of, “Please consider this poem for publication in your magazine. I have been published in the Coco-Crunch Review.” And like that, names of small magazines and such.

I set the letter up in a standard business format; I produced all my work then on an Underwood manual typewriter. In my junior year, I entered a contest because one of my professors urged me to do so. I earned an honorable mention; it was one of the Academy of American Poets contests, but I don’t remember the name and haven’t any idea where the certificate might be. I do remember who won first place: a fine poet named Paula Goff, for a wonderful poem about an owl.

Once I entered the workforce full-time (I'd worked in various part-time jobs since I was 13),I began to workshop online and occasionally attended workshops by poets who’d published widely. I did this for several years and learned a great deal because of the diversity in the workshops I frequented. I had some lovely jobs, but I was basically a work-place cripple. I’d nurtured the idea of being a renegade writer since childhood. I simply couldn’t do things any other way. By the grace of God, I survived.

I began to submit work, and some small magazines as well as a few larger, mass trade type magazines published my poems. I entered many contests and won or placed as a finalist in some. Concurrently, I was writing articles and educational material for various organizations, newspapers, and magazines in order to contribute to our income. I tried to keep a list for awhile. I gave up. There are around a dozen large boxes in my garage, full of articles, books, manuals, posters, and other publications for which I received payment. One day, I hope to make a complete list.

If a poet I admired was reading within a hundred miles of my house, and if it didn’t cost too much, I went. I learned a great deal by watching other poets present their work. This became useful to me once I began to do public speaking.

During all those years, study and scholarship occupied as much of my time as writing. This is my preference; it may not necessarily be yours. However, I do not see how a poet can move beyond his familiars without knowing what has gone before. I read history, poetry, fiction, and most anything I could get my hands on. The more I learn about writing, the more I realize I do not know.

A book that was an eye-opener, in the sense of broadening my perspective, is Women Poets from Antiquity to Now by Aliki Barnstone (Schocken). I emphasize its influence because with one exception, the poets who taught me personally were male.

Perhaps because I am Southern, I always had a keen sense of female empowerment. So as I visited and revisited voices that stretched back to 2300 B.C., I felt a kinship that was almost holy.

Once my children were born, they quite naturally affected my outlook, subject matter, and philosophies. I continued to write for a living, sandwiching poetry in between projects.

A festival director, having been sent some of my work by a mutual friend, invited me to read with distinguished writers. The director assumed I had a book. I didn’t. So we organized a small chapbook and it was printed in a small run, 200 copies if memory serves me correctly. The chapbooks sold there at the festival and at conferences where I spoke, often on creative writing and publishing topics. By this point, my children were getting older and my time was opening up. Soon all but a few of the chapbooks were gone.

I took the manuscript and added essays that had been published in various places, and for $99 a new print-on-demand outfit (recently acquired by amazon.com) produced my self-published book. It was profitable.

Two years later,when I signed with the commercial press Ocean Publishing who now publishes my books by a traditional arrangement (no subsidy or cooperative publishing), I agreed to pull the self-published title off the market. A few copies remain in stores and on Net sites, but the book is no longer being printed.

At the time, I was earning a comfortable income with writing, and finding time to study works by other authors and to write poetry.

And then everything changed because my younger daughter became ill and my husband, with all of us in the family in agreement, accepted a promotion with his company. When we moved to Florida, everything changed.

Stay tuned for part III

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Book Tour Notes & Poets Wanting to Publish

Post 1 of 2, June 28, 2005

Earl notes & office redux

I had a phenomenal signing at The Happy Bookseller in Columbia, SC. This is the city where most of the events in my latest book occurred. So many people visited and picked up both Killing Earl and A Poetry Break. This was technically my first tour stop, since the Jacksonville events were pre-release. Next up on my calendar are Fernandina Beach (Books Plus), Miami (Books and Books), and Savannah (Barnes and Noble) followed by Jacksonville again (new Barnes and Noble store, St. John's Town Center). I’m working on a New York event, and will also make my way to North Carolina and possibly Alabama. My publisher is busy working with the book orders and will soon have the online book sites fleshed out. I’ve been busy doing direct mail, news releases, emails and other contact work with media and those interested in my book in each geographical area. Meanwhile, I had a couple stories to turn out and some inquiries to tweak. I’m tweaking a new post for One Night for Life. Never a dull moment. A side perk: I can still see the lovely Carolina hills and the lake where I stayed, about 50 miles west of Columbia. That is beautiful country, upstate South Carolina.



Post 2 of 2, June 28, 2005

How my poetry got published, PT.1

The next few posts will be directed to poets who are hoping to publish a book. I get dozens of emails from poets who ask me how to go from poet-in-residence-of-the-home to a writer whose work leaves the kitchen or home office and hops into the world of either academic or commercial poetry. These opinions are my own, no one else’s, and if someone tells you something different than I’ve written here, listen to him or her. Evaluate many different opinions and suggestions and see what is best for you. All I can do is tell you how I met some goals and missed some others.

In the beginning

I wanted to be a writer since I can remember remembering. My mother read me Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses and for reasons unknown to me, it influenced my intellect immediately and my poetic ear years later. In 3rd grade, our teacher Mrs. Eleazer asked us to write a poem. I wrote mine about a haunted house. She sent it to the newspaper and it was published. A small taste of accomplishment stayed with me, the sense of it, really. It felt nice. I had won an essay contest in first grade, so being rewarded at an early age probably had a serious impact. Otherwise, I was a shy, difficult child.

I wrote poetry from that point on. By high school, I was sending work to The Atlantic and other magazines who were merciful enough to stuff the rejection slip into an envelope and return it to me. I continued to write poetry. I also continued to read poetry and just about any other printed page I could get my hands on. I thought a lot about it, and I think I read so much because I am just plain curious.

When a person tells me she or he writes poetry, I ask, “What poets do you like to read?” If the person doesn’t immediately, with enthusiasm, name several poets he or she adores, I’m sad. This diminishes the idea of their work immediately, at least as far as I am concerned. I am sorry to say this. But it is true and to offer you anything but the truth about poetry as I know it would be unfair. So if you don’t read poetry, lots of poetry or at least a few poets in depth and volume, I can tell you I probably will not enjoy your work. But it’s not your fault, it’s my mindset. Your mother or spouse may praise your poems, however, and that is fine by me.

I have often said we poets take ourselves too seriously. We don’t, as I like to remind people in workshops, perform brain surgery. But we do aim at performing a sort of intellectual surgery, or spiritual (or both), and thus we must exercise great care in what we do with a poem. Otherwise we are dangerous to ourselves, like a blindfolded person behind the wheel of a car on I-95 in Labor Day traffic.

So my first recommendations to a poet wanting to publish rest on simple suggestions. Read poetry, a lot of it. Read about poetry, in magazines, on literary Net sites, in books. Equally important is that you must live as fully as your spirit will permit. Be curious. Nurture your intellect and your imagination. Pick a holy book and read it. This way, you will have something to write about and you will have an idea how the masters wrote about it, because there is virtually no new subject matter in poetry.

Work.

Stay tuned for Pt. 2.

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Book biz miscellanies

The official pub date for Killing Earl draws near, with my number 1 tour stop in the city where the story began. Freelance writer Rachel Haynie surprised me with a very nice article about my book and signing in The Columbia Star. The pre-release launch and sales have gone great, and I’m hoping the book will help anyone who navigates a medical crisis, especially if the patient is an adolescent female.

Read an interesting piece in an old issue of USA Today (3-10-2004) about the book biz, with a focus on how the book market has changed over the last decade. There’s a wealth of information if you click the links in the right column, and this is a good resource for anyone who has a book coming out. There are many dismal facts. For instance, USA Today points out that sales of Cliff Notes for The Scarlett Letter outpace Hawthorne’s classic at a ratio of 3.6 to 1. Sad. The book biz will break your heart.

On another note, a young writer I admire and have had the pleasure of knowing is about to send his first novel forth into the marketplace. It’s a fine work and I am certain he will succeed. I met Christian Bahr two years ago when he rallied a news crew for Jacksonville’s most popular news team to cover a poetry press conference that a diverse group of poets hosted. We were astounded that a news crew actually taped and broadcast. That day began a friendship that I treasure and it opened a door for me to see his work progress.

Hope all you fathers had a great day. I lost my father when I was in my early twenties, so I marked the day by writing him a poem and by appreciating my husband, who is one of the greatest fathers in this world (just ask our daughters!)

Monday, June 13, 2005

Bikini Reads, part II

I am convinced that if I hadn’t lived during a time when various disorders hadn’t yet been popularized, I’d be diagnosed as ADD. I do seem to struggle with an attention deficit on a regular basis. Always have.

I’d meant to do the second part of my Bikini Reads shortly after posting part I. Naturally, I shelved it to a dusty corner in my brain and retrieved the idea only after glancing at prior posts today.

So, without further self-recrimination, here are my selections, part II.

Oh, a side-thought. I realize that the term “Bikini Reads” conjures images of lovely young girls frolicking, stretching themselves supine on beach blankets, turning themselves over and over beneath the hot sun as they chatter like sweet, oily birds in a garden of sand. Okay, I admit that’s overkill. Just having a bit of fun.

What I want to say is that these suggestions are for anyone who likes to read at the beach. I just didn’t want to call it “Books for the Beach,” because that’s such an overused term in marketing and book sections in newspapers.

So regardless of your gender or sexual preference, whether you wear a top and a bottom or just one of those skinny little bottom things,whether you enjoy gazing at bikinis or just the bottom halves, these books are for you, dear reader. Nothing much shakes this old girl’s boat.

Warrior Women
by Jeannine Davis-Kimball, Ph.D. with Mona Behan
At first glance, I thought this book would be one of those little volumes filled with anecdotal stories about women beating the crap out of historic male figures. Instead, it’s a delightful work that details Ms. Davis-Kimball’s archaeological experiences and theories. Fascinating stuff about the amazon warriors and the cut-the-breast-off motif, the hetairai of ancient Greece, and the goddess adored by headstrong women, Lilith. Requires patience on the part of the reader because the writer is methodical and detailed, but well worth the excursion.

Mr. Spaceman
by Robert Olen Butler
I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Butler last year, and had never read a word he’d written. I picked up several of his books, and this one is a classic. Absolutely hilarious and profound, all at the same time. You’d never imagine being able to take an alien so seriously. A do-read.

The Secret Life of Bees
by Sue Monk Kidd
If you haven’t read this, you should. One of the most beautifully written works of fiction in contemporary times. I see it as a Mother goddess sort of book, but then, my ancestry began with some serious pagans and I seem to have a preoccupation with them. Another do-read: a journey of the spirit of a young girl whose story goes several levels above her own and will touch yours if you let it.

The Confessions of Max Tivoli
by Andrew Sean Greer
Truth is, I hate this book. I thought it was boring, preposterous and silly. I mean, a guy recounts the moment of his own procreation, from the mindset of his mother? Did you think I’d just list books I like? Go read my personality post: I scored 58% of normal. So there you go.

Atlanta Blues
by Robert Lamb
You want a good mystery that moves quickly, develops characters soundly, and gives you something to think about after? This one’s a good read and is one of those hunker-down page-turners, if you’re a mystery lover. Pleasurable and entertaining.

Poems
by small press authors ( a generic recommendation)
Pick up any book of poetry by a small press author you either know or don’t know. I can think of half a dozen great ones, but I’ll leave the pleasure up to you. Point is: buy poetry books by independent presses. And if you really want to do a good thing, pressure your library to purchase poetry books by independent presses. Sigh. A girl can hope.

Now I have fulfilled my obligation to round out Bikini Reads. There will be no more of these beach themes for the rest of the year. I promise. Go forth and turn pages.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Outrageous beauty in The Georgia Review

Yesterday, my husband told me this issue of The Georgia Review carries a feature on art by Nancy Terry Hooten. We don’t know Ms. Hooten, but we do know her son and his family. So first thing this morning, I hopped over to The Georgia Review to have a look.

The magazine features an article and photographs of Ms. Hooten’s bead work. On first glance, I felt transported to ancient times because of theme, but the content is modern. The magazine notes these pieces as examples of “Outrageous Beauty,” and I agree.

My favorite is “Go to sleep, there’s nothing under your bed!” What parent hasn’t uttered those words to an imaginative child? But a close study of the work brings to mind night-fears that may occur at any age, an impression that came to me because of the delicate skull. And of course, the skull segues the brain waves to thoughts of mortality. Deft placement of the dragon gives the idea he’s about to jump out at the viewer.

I was also quite taken with “Watching, Watching.” There are so many themes compacted into that visual rendering—of course, I thought of Little Red Riding Hood. It was a dark sensory for me because I remember Little Red in the original, when the wolf gobbled her up. I have an old primer of my grandmother’s that has original versions of folk tales, and “Watching, Watching” brought them to mind.

Do take a look at the site. Ms. Hooten’s work is engaging to the point of distraction, and I mean that as a compliment.

As I sit here surrounded by “to-do” lists, and stacks of papers urging me to work, I’m glad I got side-tracked by this talented artist’s work.

Also in that same issue is an excerpt from Phillip Levine’s essay, “A day in May: Los Angeles, 1960.” The excerpt is a wonderful account of Levine’s experiences with Thom Gunn and John Berryman. Poems by Stephen Dunn and C. Dale Young deliver a sturdy punch.

Do go and see all these lovely things for yourself. Sometimes, sidetracked is a benevolent place to be early in the morning when there’s too much to do.

An afterthought: I remember when The Atlantic used to be that good.


  • Table of contents page for current isssue, The Georgia Review:

  • http://www.uga.edu/garev/spring05/spring05.htm

    Sunday, June 05, 2005

    Back to biz

    As the official publication date approaches, a get-real perspective takes hold. Soon, I’ll meld to the road, or the air, depending on the city, and take Earl along. I've already received some great comments from those who bought the book at the pre-release events. That gives me confidence.

    I’m doing a signing in in a couple weeks in Columbia, SC—actually the first official signing. I’m also doing an information session there for the National League of American Pen Women, Inc., in an effort to “resurrect South Carolina.” There’s only one NLAPW branch left in Carolina. I'm thrilled to have my event at the independent store The Happy Bookseller. That store carried my very first collection, a book I repubbed myself after my chapbooks were gone. Plus if I had to pick a bookstore I frequented from the time I was around 20 years old, it'd be that one. Love that place. We don't have a store like that in Jax.

    Spent much of last week sleuthing for press contacts, writing letters, sending my author letter to publications who received a review copy from my publisher. Spent additional time trying to pull a freelance piece together that just isn’t cooperating. Wrote a new poem; worked on an old one—my “bluegrass” verses, as I see their spirit, seem to preoccupy me at the worst possible times. And found myself pounding away on the novel, something that means a great deal to me because I’ve been in love with this character for years and absolutely am determined to finish it.

    Will host a reception next week here at the house for Dorothy Fletcher’s new book—wine, poetry, writers of different persuasions. We always have a good time with those. Dorothy is a fine poet, and I’m honored to host her launch as part of my Community Poetry Series at Barnes and Noble.

    Somewhere in-between, tossed informal ideas about a workshop a group has asked me to do. Wrote 2 more chapters on Taylor. Never a dull moment.

    Grass got dry enough for me to mow, and I finally, finally got to swim today. Water was a wee bit cold, but I was so glad to see the sun overcome all this rain—fully understood the power of the Sun God for ancient Egyptians. Great piece in National Geo about Tut; do read if you haven’t already. The reconstruction of his countenance on the cover is absolutely mind-boggling.

    I wanted to also thank the writer who inspired me to do my own blog. Ron Kattawar has a deft way with prose and is on his way to screenplay success. So thanks, officially, Ron!

    Watching a piece about Southern Rock with my husband; more next week as I get down to the nuts and bolts of a new book release.

    Monday, May 30, 2005

    Sunday blog-walk on Monday

    The long weekend held surprises and socializing, so my Sunday blog-walk is late. I ended up spending part of the morning with a news crew from Jacksonville’s ABC and NBC affiliate First Coast News. They came to tape the poem I wrote for W. Thomas Smith, Jr. as a Memorial Day Tribute.

    Blogs continue to fascinate me. Rachel Dacus has a new poetry collection out from well-regarded publisher David Robert Books. Femme au chapeau has been praised by both Rhina Espaillat and Ruth Daigon. I’ve read Rachel’s work for years, and she never disappoints. She's one of those poets who practices scholarship, but who also writes poems that are accessible on many levels.

    I discovered Anne Haines’s blog Land Mammal. She’s the sort of person I’d like to know, maybe share a cup of coffee or glass of wine with. I don’t know her other than through her blog, but she writes beautifully.

    Poetry Hut Blog offers news items, photos and commentary. Neat place for a stroll.

    Finally, there’s a new chapter up at my free book-on-a-blog, One Night for Life.

    So go forth and go blog-wild.

    And that’s a wrap for this week’s walk.

    Friday, May 27, 2005

    Free book on a blog

    I didn't intend to offer anyone a book for free.

    But shortly after my new book Killing Earl went into production, I chanced upon a story that needed to be told. I began another new book.

    After talking with my publisher, I realized that it would take well over a year to bring another book out. But this story couldn't wait.

    I decided to tell the story of a young man, Taylor G. Wells, as an unfolding book on a new blog. I hope you visit One Night for Life. There are links on the blog to sites that explain the young man's plight.

    And if you know anyone who might help, please let us know.

    Thursday, May 26, 2005

    Gifting a poem, Pt. II

    Last week, I wrote a poem for an author I admire. I gave him the poem, rights and all. I've never done that before. All is explained in the post Gifting a poem.

    I've known W. Thomas Smith, Jr., for years, and I've always admired his courage, whether he was fighting for his country in a foreign land or fighting for his country by covering tragedies like 9-11 firsthand. As a Southerner, I'm aware of a long military tradition in my region. And of course, Beowulf is one of my all-time favorite works. That epic has always influenced my thinking. Having written a poem about the foe Grendel many years ago, it seems fitting to finally write a poem about a modern-day warrior, in the interest of balance.

    So it gives me great pleasure to share that the poem Battle Cry is published at Military Week.

    To learn more about Thomas, visit W. Thomas Smith, Jr.

    Wednesday, May 25, 2005

    Bikini Reads, Pt. 1

    Each year I share a list of great beach books with my newsletter list; this year, I’m also posting it on my blog. Let me know if you read any of them and send me comments or post them here if you like. My reading preferences are deliberately diverse, so there ought to be a book or two here for everyone. Oh, and I don’t always pick new titles. Each of these will tuck nicely into a beach tote. It was around 95 degrees on the beaches here in Jax today. Both my daughters went and came home coated with sunscreen and sand. Ah, the joys of Florida living. I guess I’ll do this in two parts so I can comment on each book. So my first five titles are:

    Nine Parts of Desire
    The Hidden World of Islamic Women

    by Geraldine Brooks
    Television personality Shaima Rezayee was murdered in Afghanistan because of her liberal tendencies and another woman was murdered for suspected adultery (Christian Science Monitor, May 24, 2005). So while you’re enjoying the freedom of exposing at least 80% of your body, enter the world of Islamic women through the eyes of a woman who lived among them. This is one of the most incredible books on the subject, and reportage is as objective as any I’ve found. It’s a fast read, despite the complexities of the subject.

    The Drowning Tree
    by Carol Goodman
    Mythology, classic literature, art. All woven into a mystery that ends with a not so tidy love knot. Skillful writing. What’s not to like?

    Schott’s Original Miscellany
    by Ben Schott
    A great gift from the British; good book for hit and run reading. You can thumb through and quickly absorb such matters as symbols for cattle branding and how to tie a bow-tie. Charming book. Good gift for a guy.

    Their Eyes Were Watching God
    by Zora Neale Hurston
    One of the best modern novels in English. Poetic, imaginative, haunting. To me, Hurston is a writer-goddess. Should be required reading for all poets and writers of fiction.

    The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time
    by Mark Haddon
    It’s amazing what a writer can do with a novel. This one’s a must-read for any serious writer or reader of fiction, and is accessible on many levels. You could write a book of criticism about it.

    Okay, those are the first five. And of course, in a shamelessly self-promoting plug, both my books are great for the beach. Links to each, top right on this page.

    Sunday, May 22, 2005

    Blog-Walk

    I got the idea for this post when I visited Suzanne Frischkorn’s litwindowpane. Her post “Around the Neighborhood” listed several blogs of interest. So, figuring Suzanne won’t mind, I’m following suit. This blogging practice is new to me, but one pleasurable result has been the discovery that many of the poets with whom I’ve workshopped or published also blog. Through Suzanne’s site,I discovered C. Dale Young's blog. I’ve long admired his poetry, have never exchanged a single word with him officially, but did leave a message at his blog today. I offered a compliment about some thoughts he wrote about poets and poetry. He has a link to an intriguing quiz there; you can take the quiz and see which Romantic Poet persona best suits yours. My quiz resulted in a likeness to Samuel Taylor Coleridge—here’s the summary:

    “You are Samuel Taylor Coleridge! The infamous "archangel a little damaged!" You took drugs and talked for hours, it's true, but you also made a conscious choice to cultivate the image of the deranged poet in a frenzy of genius. You claimed you wrote "Kubla Khan" in an afternoon after a laudanum, when you pretty manifestly did no such thing. You and your flashing eyes and floating hair. And your brilliant scholarship and obvious genius.”

    I have to say the quizzes I take surprise me most of all. So far, I’ve been dubbed “Culturally Creative” and have a normalcy rating of 58%. I am growing more leery of quizzes.

    Completely new to me is the site bluelineblues.

    It’s interesting to me because it’s from the perspective of a copy editor. I found bluelineblues by clicking “next blog” on my own page. I’m certain in all these years of freelancing, I’ve given several copy editors a definite headache (typical feedback from one editor I adore: “Everything can't be a poem, Kay, for cryin’ out loud.”).

    For a look inside the mind of a lawyer-poet (I know that sounds ludicrous, but it is true, nonetheless), stroll by Seth Abramson's blog.

    Especially interesting, considering my involvement with Taylor Wells’s predicament here in the legal bowels of Florida’s justice system, is Seth’s list of truths about the Criminal Justice System.

    Finally, for those who want to know more about HTML, visit HTML Help.

    So there you go—my Sunday Blog-Walk can be yours for the clicking.