A gift outright--

I hope to never again write a post like this one. But every time a friend of mine has quit writing in drought and despair, I have written one.

Too long a sacrifice
Makes a stone of the heart.
   -Yeats

A light rain is blowing past the window, and I can hear the Grateful Dead, playing in Doubleday Field. I'm thinking about a friend of mine, far away, who is a poet. He has had a long journey, holding fast to the arranging of words, but now he has changed.

He has fallen into silence.

Why? He feels the lack of the strong support that readers give to the poet, the sense that there is someone out there and that the poem is not a tree falling in a dead forest. He feels an ebbing of the support that bookstores give--the knowledge that the poet is welcome to read in his home region. Even with all the wonders of the internet, he feels too solitary. (I should add that poets can use another kind of support; that is, their publishers need the encouragement of book purchases saying that others find the poet worthwhile. Without that encouragement, a poet may soon go unpublished no matter how much the publisher loves the work.)

Here's a piece of a letter from my friend. He has published many, many books and chapbooks of poems, but here is what he says:

If I were really rich I’d just buy thousands and give’m away [. . . .] I know it’s a rough business now, but I remember those glory early days of the independent bookstore and their championing of local authors, poetry, and the small press. Not any more. 

It really is one reason I haven’t been able to write since retirement. It seems so fruitless. Hardly any way to reach an audience – and though one would like to think the glory is in the doing (I can remember my youth when I wrote endlessly and didn’t care) but you do want to feel like someone is listening, can listen, has access to listen and ultimately after 50 years it has deadened me.

This poet has been published in book and CD and on the internet, and his words have been lauded and set to music; he has had the affection of many publishers. He is at an age when he ought to be honored and welcome in his home region, often invited to read. Yet he is discouraged, "deadened."

Surely there is still a place for face-to-face encounters with a mature poet who has achieved and published widely, particularly in his home region. Surely there is still a place on our shelves for the book. Part of making the world we want to see and cherishing the best of what already exists is supporting the work.

I'm going to order some books of poems. In the words of another poet, "I shan't be gone long.--You come too."

Twitterian: on book jackets

https://twitter.com/marlyyoumans

Twitter. It's an enjoyable fritter, especially when one has a huge mountain of an assignment to do (as I do), and much house-drudgery ahead (as I also do.) It's a great deal of fun to talk to poets in Wales and Britain, a favorite editor in the midwest, a friend in California, and so on...

I'm still thinking about last night's back-and-forth conversation with book designer John Coulthart on the whole business of how and why men get so many covers without images but instead with bold (shall we even say aggressive and insistent?) typography that shouts at the passers-by from bookstore displays. I read several books with such jackets yesterday. All men. (And was wondering: is it a male thing? Are men simply anti-image? (Orange Prize studies and others suggest the limits to what men will accept on a cover, versus how women will accept many jackets/covers.)

Or is the key a bestseller status--one is BIG? I looked up J. K. Rowling's first book for an adult audience; her jacket is like that, if they stick to the current jacket proposal. So, as John says at one point, it may be primarily a nod to the fame and bestsellerdom of the writer. It is a kind of minimalism that relies on color and typeface only (rather than what is called "emotional engagement" in the book-design biz), and yet it hits the maximum in being hyper-bold. That giant type size always has clarity of a kind--and perhaps ignores that jacket/cover goal of being connected because it assumes you are already linked through at least general knowledge to the writer. Buy me, I'm by an important writer!

Certainly such a jacket tends to stand out on a display crammed with images... I guess its message is twofold: you know the writer is "big" in sales numbers, if nothing else; you know this is a book that a man or boy should be willing and confident to pick up (see those infinite studies about men being unwilling to pick up books with pretty jackets.)

No doubt all this has something to do with what we find in results like the annual VIDA count. Because if women are reviewed less often and appear as reviewers less often, well, that is going to have an impact on how "big" they are seen to be. (Confession: I rarely review--only when bothered into it.) And then I start to wonder if "literary" women are more prone to such lesserdom than "genre" women. That would be interesting to know; has somebody studied it? And I think about how these questions impact jackets like The Marriage Plot: literary book, domestic subject matter, and yet very restrained jacket. (Didn't Meg Wolitzer get into that issue during a certain recent fracas?) But I can't think about all that right now. Right now, dear people, I must go clean my house! 

The House of Words (no. 19): Corey Mesler, bookseller & small press author

Corey Mesler, the Kilroy of books!

 Today novelist, short story writer, poet, and bookseller Corey Mesler talks about publishing with small presses and selling small press books.

You can find out about his many books (and many publishers) and Burke's Books, the Memphis bookshop he owns with Cheryl Mesler, at his website, http://www.coreymesler.com/, and at http://www.burkesbooks.com/. Signed copies of his books are always available through the store.



Corey and Cheryl Mesler,
co-owners of Burke's Books in Memphis

Marly:  You have published many books and chapbooks in the small press world. As a writer, can you talk about what's good (and bad--we're curious!) about that realm? As a longtime bookseller, would you talk about the obstacles and pleasures of selling small press books?

The first of his many books,
a few of which are shown here.

Corey:  The positives about small press publishing, in my experience, are passion and creativity. There are a lot of good folks doing good work for no other reward than seeing writers and their work reach readers. And some small press books are lovely creations, the work of real book artists. As more and more of the big houses make cheaper and crappier books, books made of paper and cardboard and spit, the lovingly created small press book, often, shines in comparison, or at least holds its own.

The downside to small press publishing is simple: one doesn’t get as wide a distribution. Every writer wants as many readers as possible. Every writer wants attention from the few remaining book review sources, and perhaps a well-placed ad in these same sources. Small presses, due to limited funds, simply don’t have the ability to promote like the big guys do. Though the truth is, possibly, that the big guys aren’t as supportive as they used to be either.

Which dovetails into your second question: it’s hard for small presses to make sure their wares reach bookstore shelves for these same reasons. Bookstores, especially the brick and mortar ones, have limited space, and that space is gonna go to the heavily hyped books, more often than not. But, thank God, there are great independent bookstores still left in America. There you have a wider range of choices. As the owner of a very small, cash-strapped, independent, locally-owned bookstore, I would love to give more space to small press books. As a proud small press author I try to read more of the work coming from small presses and hence try to sell more. But, I won’t kid you: it’s tough these days. It’s tough, really, to sell anything in our little brick and mortar shoppe. I ask you this question in return: what happened to browsing? That to me seems to be a core question. What happened to the readers who like to go into stores and discover something new simply by poking around?