Rachel Dacus's Blog, page 53

The Writing Life

Reading Annie Dillard's inspiring and reassuring book of that name, and found this nugget, which made me feel so much better about how slowly I'm editing my novel:

Thomas Mann was a prodigy of production. working full time, he wrote a page a day. that is 365 pages a year, for he did write every day -- a good-sized book a year. At a page a day, he was one of the most prolific writers who ever lived.

My interview with Jeannine Hall Gailey is up at Fringe

I recently had the pleasure of interviewing for Fringe Magazine a fellow rocket kid and poet, Jeannine Hall Gailey. Her myth-based poetry collection She Returns to the Floating World was just published by Kitsune Books. In the interview, Gailey discusses her process and sources, including how she came to use fantasy, mythology, and comic book characters in poetry, and why she thinks poetry continues to dwell on the outskirts of our culture. She's a fascinating subject and the book is a terrific read, unlike any other book I've read. Grab a copy, you won't be sorry! And will learn a lot about Japanese mythology.

Fathers & poems

Happy Father's Day! The subject of the relationship to a father has been a rich source in poetry. Today I'm missing my complicated, troublesome, creative, and vibrant father, who died a year and a half ago. My faovrite last memories of him:

At the Easel with Alzheimer's

My father is painting in the basement: blue,
green, yellow. The cinderblock wall's white-
wash is tanned with dust and the ocean view
obscured by a flapping sheet of vinyl. It fights

the wind. He says he's inspired to blue. My phone call
came to his studio and I was greeted: I know you.
You're the pharmacist, right? The pall
on his memory has not dimmed his bad taste

in jokes or how at the easel he's always affable
over the scribble of boar's bristle, the give
of canvas to brush. I skip over laughable
lapses, as when he asks me where I live

and then pretends he was kidding. Name-
dropping, his mind grows patches, nicks
and spores like the salt on his aluminum
windows that will eventually make them stick.

Painting down there, his panes always closed
to keep it warm and dry, not a hint of sea
outside. What are you working on? His nose
nearly on the canvas, he can only say,

It's getting better, going somewhere. It's green,
blue, and not as grim as it sounds. His brain
grows lacy and colors squirm like the skeins
of yarn above the basement washing machine.

I'm frightened of how much he forgets,
this new breeze that unzips our history,
but I say, Don't fight the wind. Be a net.
Catch the world by letting the knots slip.

- first appeared in Fringe Magazine

Here's another father poem I love:

Those Winter Sundays
By Robert Hayden 1913–1980

Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love's austere and lonely offices?

Bloghopping: Listening to Literature

Found a new zine that publishes audio versions of fiction and nonfiction -- The Drum. A nice companion to Whale Sound, which does audio publication of poetry. Words on breath, what literature was meant to be, at least short literature like poems, essays, and stories. With authors like Gina Ochsner, Susan Orlean, and Paul Harding, this looks like excellent listening.

Whale Sound currently has Wendy Babiak's wonderful "Ekphrasis on a Screensaver." Take a listen.

Non-contest poetry book publishers and the paradigm

Sparked by the Poets and Writers article on contests, and Anis Shivani's article in the Huffington Post, the debate about whether contests are good for poetry flares up high again. We seem to be locked into the contest paradigm, and yet the natives are restless, at least some of them are. Marginalization, as always, creates resistance, rebellion, and ultimately revolution. I am speaking metaphorically, of course, but I do think the anti-contest sentiment is building, even among poets who have supported it in the past. Just a quick look at the numbers reveals why: those who need to publish poetry books are too numerous for the number of contest wins available -- by far.

So what new model of poetry publishing can be developed, given the cultural marginalization of the art? I've felt for a long time that e-publishing, which is changing the landscape of prose publishing very quickly, will exert a similar transformative effect on po-biz. Perhaps a little more emphasis on biz -- on how to attract audiences and book buyers -- would help.

Poetry book contest + updates on my Non-Contest Publishers Page

Anis Shivani, in a Huffington Post article about poetry book contests, makes an excellent point about how contests damage the art:

Is this the best way to discover new poetry talent in the country? What happens to editorial judgment, consistent aesthetic vision, commitment to particular values, building a movement, advocating for a particular style, and creating a critical mass of new writing if the contest model is allegedly based in "impartiality" and "blindness"--in other words, pretends to be the exemplar of democracy, egalitarianism, and disavowal of values?

My page of poetry book publishers who read outside of contests -- and presumably exercise this type of editorial judgment, rather than giving it over to grad student screeners -- has been updated. The venerable Tupelo Press was added, and also some information about reading periods and reading fees (the new sneaky way of getting the same amount of money as in a contest, but with a different evaluation paradigm).

I agree with Shivani's basic idea: we need to rethink in this country how poetry is edited and published if we don't want to see poetry further marginalized and made tepid and culturally insignificant. A lot of people like poetry and have never heard of any of the books being published to great fanfare. What's wrong with this picture? Publishers complain about the media ignoring poetry, but I wonder if there's a good reason it mostly gets ignored.

Saint Monica + bloghopping

Yesterday I received Mary Biddinger's terrific new chapbook, Saint Monica, out from Black Lawrence Press. I was lucky enough to be asked to write a blurb and so get to see this marvelous, original, biting, and witty collection before it came out. I can only reiterate my comment on the back:

Biddinger crisply narrates these memorable tales that entwine horror and sensual discovery, using deft rhythms, head-snapping line breaks, and highly original imagery."

I give it the highest praise a poet can: I wish I'd written it. Buy the book!

For a fresh taste, try tongues of the ocean.

Bloghopping + books by women men should read

Thanks to Nic Sebastien (Very Like a Whale), I discovered the wonderful A Year with Rilke, which pairs poems with art by friends of Rilke. One of the great things poetry online can do is pair with visuals. Another great thing it can do, as Nic's sites so brilliantly showcase, is become sound again, rise from the flat page into the music poetry is meant to be.

Also was sent a link to Joyland's blog about Esquire Magazine's list of 250 books by women all men should read. A friend pointed out the that the list for books by men all women should read was only 75 books. As it should be!

Pirene's Fountain is open to submissions for the October issue.

Dreamin' of Dylan

Poet of our generation, happy 70th, Dylan! He's still got it, the lyrical chops, in my opinion. Interesting that so much of the best poetry of our generation has been in the form of song lyrics. A lot of people argue that lyrics and poetry aren't the same, but I think that's an old-fashioned view. To me -- writing both -- they're part of a continuum. So here are a few of my favorite Dylan poems.

Dreamin' of You

Subterranean Homesick Blues

Don't Think Twice, It's All Right

Someone recently wrote to me and asked for work for an anthology defining our unique generation. I wish I had written a poem about Dylan to send!

Poetry for non-poets + Saint Monica

The Geraldine R. Dodge Foundation's Giving Voice session at a two-day arts seminar this May brought poetry to leaders from fields unaccustomed to considering the art: leaders from every sector: finance, social services, arts administration, marketing, real estate, education, media, health, engineering, insurance and government. Bravo! to the Foundation for reaching out beyond the teaching community and bringing poetry to a wider audience of leaders. A very interesting way of carrying out the mission of supporting poetry in our culture.

In other news: Mary Biddinger's brilliant chapbook, Saint Monica, is out from Black Lawrence Press. Having had a sneak peek, I'll say that you should rush over there and pre-order a copy right now! (Ships June 1.) You won't be sorry.