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Friday, July 15, 2016

The Foliate Head sends out a leaf--

Thanks to Roderick Robinson for writing about The Foliate Head (UK: Stanza Press, 2012) on his blog, Tone Deaf. The post begins, "I bought Marly Youmans’ The Foliate Head because I’ve liked other poems she’s written. She wears her wide experience of literature lightly and I know from her blog, The Palace at 2 am, she has things to say which interest me." Read the rest here.

Side note: Copies are still available in various places, but the second print run will soon be sold out completely. (Thank you, readers, that you made it possible for a second print run to exist.)

It's one of the wonderful things about the internet that books no longer vanish completely when the traditional three-month window for reviews is done, and bookstores ship back their unsold copies. Large, deep-pocket publishers still control what sells best through the marketing of "lead books," for the most part, but the internet means that other books--books that are not "lead books" at one of our largest publishers--have a chance to be known later on. And that's a good thing, as what sells best is always the best.


  1. It's very cool to see an "old" book find a new reader, always. (Did I tell you I found a copy of Catherwood in a bookstore in Frederick?)

    A few years ago, a bookstore owner in New Jersey invited me (before his bookstore closed, alas) to come talk about my Charlemagne book even though at the time it had been out for four or five years. I don't think it had occurred to either of us that bookstores don't always have to promote very recent books—that the model imposed on booksellers sells everyone short...

    1. Yes, that's true. And it's an old model where books were only available for a short time. With the internet, time and books have a different relationship.

      Hope that copy was all worn out! Hah!


Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.