Following up

It's been almost three weeks since the fabulous events at Diesel Books and at Robert and Cheryl's. Everything went well, though I woke during the night after (did I actually sleep?) to realize I hadn't thanked Poetry Flash or Diesel Books aloud, during the reading. I hope they know how grateful I was …

I did thank Robert and Cheryl, at least on Facebook, though I can't really ever thank them enough. What a party! What a house! What a view! What a lucky person I am to have had all those people share the occasion of my book launch with me.

And now, moving on. The list of upcoming events is at right.

Can I say I wish I could move on. I'm ready to be living in my new book, Hue and Cry. Sure, there's more work to do before it's published, but I'm ready.

And I've been hard at work on a short story, a piece of fiction, set the summer of 1969.

Event-tually

I've been slow to record the latest events. With less than two weeks remaining to the big launch of Conjugated Visits at Diesel Books in Oakland and then the party at Robert's house, more readings have begun to pile up. That sounds like they just happened, while the truth is, multiple emails, phone calls, and other pestering has been involved with each of them. So now, in addition to Diesel and the group reading at Pegasus, September 18, I will be reading at:

Poetry Club at the Bowery in NYC on October 10, with Kyle McCord, Keith Montesano, and Amy Holman

Third Life, in Somerville, MA with Mary Alexandra Agner on October 16

Beyond Baroque in Venice CA with Rick Bursky and Millicent Accardi, November 5

Bird & Beckett Books in San Francisco with Robert Thomas, November 15

A multi-poet event in Corte Madera sometime in November/December

Poetry Santa Cruz, CA March 19th, 2011

Moonday in the Village, Pacific Palisades CA April 11th, 2011

I will eventually put all this in a neat list, with more accurate information. Do not fear. Right now, I'm just delaying getting back to a story I started writing. Yes! A short story!

You see, last Saturday, I went to Jon Carroll's workshop at Book Passages on writing the personal essay. I learned a lot (I think), not even counting my extra lesson on not to make a U-turn in a "business district." But Jon thought the idea I had for the essay was more suited to a short story. So I am trying. But it is haaaaard!

Noo Yawk, Noo Yawk

So I've got myself a reading in NYC, at Poetry Club of the Bowery. The date is Sunday, October 10, from 2–4 in the afternoon, and I will be reading with Kyle McCord, Keith Montesano, and Amy Holman, all of whom have been published by Dream Horse Press. I have found it much easier to get readings with at least one other reader. It seems that event coordinators are just happier to not put all their eggs in one unknown basket. I mean, god forbid you have the floor or the podium or the mike for one whole hour and no one shows up but your pet dog, wagging its tail. Oddly, though I've invited others to read with me, and they've been happy to, I've yet to get an actual invite from another. But in case you, out there, are looking for someone to share the spotlight with you in a little bookstore or poetry venue, I'm still eager to get something going in Boston, in Portland and Seattle or other towns in the Northwest, and in other places in California. Or your town. Try me!

Oh, it's not that I love flogging the book. Introvert that I am, I rather hate it. But it is what one does. Chances are I'm not going to get invited on Oprah, so it's up to me, isn't it, to give Conjugated Visits a life.

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I want to publicly apologize for the whining and poor little me attitude above. Yes, this book thing is an uphill climb — or many uphill climbs — but that's just the way it is. And it's not true, either, that I haven't had any encouragement and offers to share the dance floor. Certainly, I've had people meeting me halfway!

So please (you know who you are) forgive me for kvetching. I was tired and tired of trying, that's all.

The Wrong Stuff

Woke up to a happy post from a friend that said a poem of mine was up at Verse Daily. Well, it turned out, they posted my poem with someone else's title (I don't know how you even do that!). Then it turns out they had someone else's bio, Wiki page, and website. Yeah, and they posted a link to two poems online that I didn't even remember existed. Well, at least they were mine, though rather old news.

I'm not in a good mood. I haven't really been doing any marketing for the book, am still two and two (two readings in SF and two in LA). I need to get some more things happening, but it feels so uphill. But for those who are interested (and not on Facebook), you should know that after the August 1 reading at Diesel, there will be a big party at Robert's house for my book. Directions to the party will be available at the Diesel/ Poetry Flash reading. If you just want to come to the party, well, okay, email me at dianekmartin (at) gmail (dot) com for directions.

Yeah, I've moved my email address to gmail.

N&J are moving to San Bruno. That means, when J and I move to Sebastopol, we won't have anyone with SF priority for Camp Mather booking. Oh well. It's been a long time and will probably be a long time yet. I need a job before we move anywhere.

Here's a super poem:
http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/poetry/2010/07/12/100712po_poem_plumly

Cezanne's still life and mine

Maybe it's all this wet drippy fog (yes, a typical June). Maybe it's just the expected. But I am experiencing a definite letdown, anticlimax, maybe even depression. Conjugated Visits is out, and so what? I've done a bit to stir the waters; I'm sure I could do more.

I'm still awaiting delivery of my second box of books, having used up the first. If I promised you a book and/or you sent me your address, don't fret. I will send it.

I have sent off the new manuscript, Hue and Cry, to three places. While I was working on it, getting it ready to go out, I still felt productive and creative. Now, waiting, Conjugated Visits feels more than ever like history.

Did see the show of masterpieces from the d'Orsay that is now in SF at the de Young. That helped keep my mind off marketing and so forth for a while. BTW, has anyone out there ever worked as a museum guard? How long are the shifts, typically? No, not looking for this type of work, but could use the info for a new poem.

Socked-in Summer

So here I am doing an interview / reading on KKUP 91.5, last Wednesday. The radio host was none other than my publisher, J.P. Dancing Bear. It was a pleasant enough experience, especially since John drove me to San Jose and probably no one I knew was listening. (The station is hard to get in many places.) I'll let all my fans know when the show will be posted on iTunes.

Today, we are socked in with fog, the usual summer weather in this part of San Francisco. It's hard to remember, on days like this, that it is summer elsewhere. We had the heat on this morning and the dog didn't want to go out, just to stay in front of the heating vent. So I sit here like a little ol' lady in my cardigan and shawl, trying to stay warm.

I know I should be trying to push my book more. I need to get more/earlier readings in the Bay Area, especially San Francisco, I need to work at getting readings in NYC and Boston and Seattle and Portland. But hey, if you want me to come to your town, just give a holler!

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Waiting for a new supply of books so I can send more out, so if you're expecting one from me, don't worry, I haven't forgotten!
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In the meantime, I sent out the first Hue and Cry manuscript this morning. I liked that.

Back in the saddle, more or less

So we are back from Paris. Yes, it was wonderful. All the time I took reviewing and updating my French paid off. For the most part, I could partake in conversation and make myself understood. When I was tired, hurried, or hassled, my skills fell off. But for the most part, I did well.

We managed to do almost everything we needed to do and most of what we wanted to do. And the weather was mostly good.

I did take the computer but was very far away from personal and public realities for all ten days. I did not pay much attention to the news; I did not think about marketing my book. I didn't really write anything either — there wasn't time — although I did take notes for a new poem.

I was kind of hoping my box of books would be waiting here for me, but it's not. It should be here within a day or two. So the next thing I have to do is send out books to people on my acknowledgment page and give a price to other people who want to order through me because they want my signature. (I only get 20 free books and will have to pay shipping, so I can't give the book to everyone for free.)

I have lined up two readings in L.A. (fairly far into the future) and two in the Bay Area. I need to get more happening here, preferably in July or August, and I would really like to do readings in the NYC area (October is best), in Boston, and in Portland and Seattle. If you are reading in one of those places and think I might share billing, let me know. I will be eternally grateful.

I came home to a poem accepted by Harvard Review. That was heartwarming. I would just love to bury myself in the Hue and Cry manuscript and get it ready to send out. It's already almost there.

Oh, the photo (John's shot) is from Au Lapin Agile, the bar where Picasso et al. hung out in Montmartre.

Getting close

I heard from my publisher that he has a copy of my book. I will see it tomorrow. I'm excited … and scared. I don't know quite what I'm scared for or of, but I'm scared.

But you know, I want to be done with this. After I get back from Paris, I'm going to start re-working Book Next. I don't have to call it Book Next, because I have a title: Hue and Cry.

Rilke pep talk

Will get around (soon) to posting about my trip to LA and any news about upcoming readings. But in the meantime … the following advice from Rilke was posted on Facebook by the awesome Cheryl Strayed. I think I needed to read this right now. And maybe often.



Your work needs to be independent of others' work.
You must not compare yourself to others.
No one can help you. You have to help yourself.
Criticism leads to misunderstandings and defeatism.
Work from necessity and your compulsion to do it.
Work on what you know and what you are sure you love.
Don't observe yourself too closely, just let it happen.
Don't let yourself be controlled by too much irony.
Live in and love the activity of your work.
Be free of thoughts of sin, guilt and misgiving.
Be touched by the beautiful anxiety of life.
Be patient with the unresolved in your heart.
Try to be in love with the questions themselves.
Love your solitude and try to sing with its pain.
Be gentle to all of those who stay behind.
Your inner self is worth your entire concentration.
Allow your art to make extraordinary demands on you.
Bear your sadness with greater trust than your joy.
Do not persecute yourself with how things are going.
It's good to be solitary, because solitude is difficult.
It's good to love, because love is difficult.
You are not a prisoner of anything or anyone.

—Rilke

Postcards: ✓

I'm not exactly sure of the logic behind it, but I had postcards printed. Front has a picture of the book cover, back has part of one blurb and ordering info for bookstores. Since this is a piece of paper, a hard copy, and will be a leave-behind for bookstores, I did not put much in the way of online ordering (except for my publisher's website and this blog and my email). Tomorrow, I hope to leave a stack in local independent bookstores and, if the appropriate people are approachable, try and get a reading here and there. I don't think it will be easy, but if you have a better way, let me know!

Some small progress

Yessirree, we're getting there. Just seventeen days to official publication, and I'm finally getting some momentum. Today I sent my publisher a corrected proof with only two tiny annoying not-really-errors (which I almost decided to skip, but then changed my mind). I'm sure there will be other errors I don't find. That's the way it is when humans do things.

But I've made my Facebook page. And a postcard with ordering information will be ready for me to pick up on Friday. Starting Saturday, I'm visiting Bay Area bookstores in hopes of lining up readings or at least finding out whom to talk to about such. I'm flying down to L.A. next week (got a $85 round trip — including taxes — flight). My sister has offered to shuttle me to bookstores there for the same purpose.

John and I are discussing a book launch party in a local coffeehouse. I admit I didn't want to have to do this; I wanted it to just happen. But this book hasn't been like that. It needs me to make things happen.

In other news: we've rescheduled the trip to Paris that the volcano cancelled. We're taking off May 26 now, though the question of who will mind the dog is not yet answered. Hard to concentrate on Paris when I'm launching the book. Hard to launch the book when I want to put energy toward being ready for Paris. But somehow it will all come together.

Coming soon …

Time for a new post

… though I can't say I have much poetry news. I've been consoling myself over not having gone to AWP with the thought that we're going to Paris. Yes, indeedy, and we leave in three days. I'm totally freaking, though. Even though I've shopped 'till I dropped, arranged for a dogsitter, contacted my bank, learned how to turn off data on my iPhone, downloaded podcasts (and even Kindle for the Mac), and been practicing my French for months, I'm still freaking. I think I'm nervous that it won't turn out to be every little thing I want it to be. I'm worried that the four pair of shoes I'm taking for 10 days won't be the right shoes. I'm not even allowing myself to think of the money we're spending. We're going to Paris! I won't say how long it's been since I've gone to Paris, but let's just say that last time I went to Paris, my parents were paying!

Meantime, I'm awaiting the imminent publication of my book. Well, if not imminent, forthcoming. Only one reading locked in so far, and that's in September (Pegasus Books, Berkeley, 9/18, mes fans). Still waiting to hear from a few others, but I haven't really gotten out there asking. In May, I will be going down to L.A. and touring the bookstores with my sister. I hope to have, if not the book, by then, or a review copy, at least a postcard with ISBN and release date. I need to make an attempt to visit the Seattle/Portland areas. And then there's NYC. I'd like to arrange readings at any friendly bookstores in NYC around October 8 and maybe a few readings in Boston before or after that. Leads, clues, warnings, advice — all welcome.

No Foolin'

It's been two months since I was laid off, and I have not gotten very far. The blog is still rudimentary, the thoughts in my head about how to proceed with it and with debuting my book are still hazy. Sure, I've had a rather momentous birthday, and we've been getting ready to go away (later this month). But why is it so hard to organize my thoughts? Perhaps I'm used to working on deadline, and my publisher (whose computer died, last month, among other things) has yet to give me any real date for when I'll see my book. I'm working on a new computer too. And I'm sure there are other psychological reasons why the actuality of my book eludes me.

Well, I've seen the third proof today and will send it back to my publisher tomorrow. I'd like to get a mockup of my cover, the ISBN, and a date, and I'll make a postcard up to send to anyone I've ever met — and maybe a few people I haven't met.

Meanwhile, anyone who has any tips on how to customize this blog, let me know. Right now I'm wishing I left well enough alone.

Blackbird = Phoenix?

Perhaps that post title is a tad grandiose? Yet I have spring/renewal/rebirth or at least getting over this cold on my mind. I haven't been outside in two days and outside still seems a very far place to go. Yet, I'm a gonna make it, as the old widow at the bottom of the hill says every time I ask how's she doing. She's got her cataracts removed and a wig on her head, and it doesn't really matter how old she actually is.

Today I bought Bento, a database application to use with my new MacBook. My version of Filemaker Pro (5.5!) wasn't working very well with Snow Leopard, spinning beachballs with the slightest change and crashing without warning. I've imported all my old po biz submission data (support wasn't very helpful, butI figured it out), and I'm very happy with it.

I'm planning to create a database for marketing the new book. I'll put all the contacts people give me in there. (Call X in Y city at Z bookstore) and hopefully schedule reading events. I can import contacts to send out email reminders too.

Going Solo

When I started this blog (back in '05?), my idea was to have a shared podium for members of the poetry group 13 Ways. For a while, I was joined here by Robert Thomas, very occasionally by others in the group. But neither Robert nor anyone else is really interested in keeping this going. I'm not sure how much I'm interested in keeping it going. Like many others, I've found the drive-by posts on Facebook to be more than enough.

Recently, Blogger had me migrate my site so that I no longer publish it through FTP with the website 13 Ways. And so it seems a good time to make a break from the past. (Or as good a time as any.) I'm going to make this a solo blog, for now, on the subject of poetry and being a poet in the world and whatever else comes up. (The website www.13ways.org, which I mean to entirely revamp as well, will continue to be about the group and the individual poets in it.)

So we'll see. I hope you will come here and comment and make this a conversation, or it's going to get very quiet. As I said recently, I'd like to collect some good ideas for marketing poetry books, as a start. ( I will attempt to be a better conversationalist too.)

That's enough for now, intent and direction. I think I'm coming down with something, so that's as ambitious as I want to be at the moment. Will turn in and read some of the 22 books beside my bed.

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Now what?

It's a long time since I've posted, though I'm not much convinced that anyone cares. Nevertheless, I have plenty of time now that I'm unemployed, so methinks I will get back into the habit.

I'd like to start a discussion about marketing one's poetry books in this age of small presses and Print on Demand (POD). I've been researching the issue and welcome your first-person experiences.

No one is under the illusion that the publication of a book of poetry is going to result in fame, fortune, best-sellerdom, or even a ripple in the zeitgeist. Nevertheless, making some personal effort to stir the waters is bound to be better than nothing, as far as getting the book out there. And we all want the book out there, don't we?

Sure, this post and any comments that ensue will be self-serving, as my book, Conjugated Visits, will be out soon. But there's no reason why what I learn can't also serve you. In a sense, we're all in this together.

My newest news

Yesterday, I was notified that I won a prize. It's the 9th annual Erskine J. Poetry Prize from Smartish Pace. I get $200 along with publication of my poem.

Yeah, it's only $200 (and the funny part is, I can't even remember entering this competition—I'm not exactly spending money these days; I can't) but it's very nice. It's especially meaningful because, as some of you know, I won second prize at the Nimrod and National Writers Union, been finalist at Discovery/Nation and numerous manuscript competitions, including the National Poetry Series, but I've never actually won anything — unless you count first prize for fifth-grade girls in the Yonkers science fair. So, yay me!

Other than that, well, I had plenty to say until now, but I can't remember what was so important. John is out at some Opera Guild cocktail party or some such thing but will be back soon. I am thawing out from my walk with the dog (okay, it was actually 52°, but I'm sensitive to cold) with a large glass of Charles Shaw cabernet. There are sweet potatoes roasting in the kitchen.

A Rationale

I needed to provide a writing sample today for a possible job. Boy do I hate that, having to prove myself. Well, I came across this, and I like it. I needed to update it, but I thought I would post it here. It concerns my book that is due to be published this spring with Dream Horse Press.


Conjugated Visits is a book of poems that, for the most part, is concerned with passion and point of view, with relationships that sometimes work and sometimes do not, between partners, among family members, among strangers, in a world that is not always face forward and can’t be taken at face value.

I group poems that seem to belong together. Although this statement is a “rationale,” it’s not always a rational thing; sometimes it’s intuitive. Sometimes the poems in a group have similar themes or ideas, are involved in one or another of my preoccupations. Sometimes they share mood or attitude. On the other hand, sometimes they work to contrast with others or another, a palate refresher, so to speak.

I’m aware that one is supposed to start out strong and end with a bang. I’m not sure of my bang ending. I put what you might call my Yonkers poems in the middle because I’m trying to work against the cliché of chronology.

Conjugated Visits

Conjugated Visits (the section) begins with “Conjugated Visits” because I think this poem sets up the first section and the book well. This poem goes from I to you to she to he to they and then broadens out, and I think that sets up a workable strategy. It’s a strong poem that was published in both Field and on Poetry Daily.

The second poem in this section (“Sonhar”) takes the “I” a bit further. (I’d like to state at this point that all “I” poems in the manuscript and, indeed, all poems that seem personal are fictional, not autobiographical. They may partake of personal experience, but move beyond those experiences, I hope, and are true to the experience of the poem, not to “what actually happened.”)

The next poem in the first section is “Demimonde,” and I like a lot about it although I�Proxy-Connection: keep-alive
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9m not sure that it was ever 100 percent successful. It sets up a story about a fictional world from the poet’s point of view, and it’s supposed to sound very “noir.” This was the title poem of the manuscript for years, but I no longer think it works as a title. Still, the relationship implied in the poem — or the possibility of the connection between the woman and the man in the poem together with the weather connection, well, I think that follows well from the poems that precede it.

Darkness Visible

Darkness Visible is a section of very dark days and includes “Was You Ever Bit By A Dead Bee,” the pet quip of the Walter Brennan drunk character in To Have or Have Not. The section ends with the poem, “Darkness Visible,” whose title comes from Milton and which addresses Johnny Cash.

ShBoom

In the ShBoom section, which I think of as sort of “pop,” we segue into the “Lorraine Asks” poem, which, in the guise of a casual discussion, brings up “the one thing they will hold over you.” In Orwell’s 1984, Big Brother knew the one thing that you feared most. I think loving is by far more dangerous — outright scary — than being loved. You are just never the same after opening yourself up to loving in this way.

The next poem, the title poem of this section is “ShBoom.” It’s kind of a memory piece, an imagistic poem about summer in Yonkers, just a picture of the way it was. The song “Life Could be a Dream,” was both a pop song and something my mother used to say, in regard to how fast life passes. The sounds, my sister’s naked dancing, the fireflies, the women doing dishes at night, the piccolo (I used to play) — are all very dreamlike.

The next one, “Back in Yonkers,” is also dreamlike, but pretty graphic. It’s meant to be more than a confession. It’s meant to restate that you can’t go home again, and if you do, you’re not the same person who left. It’s also meant to show what Yonkers was like during a certain era. It’s written in Yonkers-speak.

Another poem in this section is “Gal Friday.” Much of this section is involved with old ideas about what it meant to be a woman. This poem hearkens back to the time when classified ads in newspapers were divided into positions for men and jobs for women. A Gal Friday was the name of the job whose responsibilities included doing whatever was necessary to please the (male) management. Both acquiescing and refusing were equally demoralizing.

Bequest

The ten poems of Bequest are all about death. It’s hard to explain why I think poems about death belong in a book about relationships — maybe because we all have to deal with it some day — and not just our own death, but our loved ones’ deaths too.

Hue and Cry

The final section is both more “political” — though I’m not sure what I mean by that — and less logically or narratively inclined, so more experimental. “Five Days on Twenty” is about working on the 20th floor of an office building in Oakland, but the speaker, rather than being removed from the surrounding environment, is overly affected by that environment. Maybe she is on her way to a breakdown.

For “Hue and Cry,” I borrowed the beginnings of lines from a poem I encountered in APR. I just wanted to do what I could, sacrificing semantics to syntax, although I love the meanings that happened as I continued. I really enjoyed the variations-on-a-theme aspect of this — both the writing and the result.

The poem that follows is “Night Vision.” It’s a rebellion against high tech, not really any specific person or product, more a rejection of the idea that the next new thing is going to perfect us. It’s somewhat antagonistic toward a male vision of things, I suppose. In many ways, it is sound driven. This could be considered a bad thing by some.

The penultimate poem in the book is “Fraught With Danger.” The image this poem begins with is conception. This poem is about entropy, about things falling apart.

The last poem in the book is “As It Never Was,” which comes from a dream I had about living in the rhythms of the seasons, in a more traditional way of life. It feels like an ending.