“Hi Karen, you have a package coming tomorrow.” That’s the
text of an e-mail from UPS, informing me that by the end of day Monday I will
be able to open a box containing copies of my very first full-length poetry
collection.
I could not be more thrilled. It’s been a long poetic life
with little to show for it—I’m nearly double the age of John Keats at the time of
his death, for heaven’s sake, yet I’ve published only two (very beloved)
chapbooks so far. Can a book that weighs five ounces be an anchor to secure my
spot in the literary world? Because it feels that way. It really does.
One of my favorite things on
social media is a genre of photograph that only people with lots of writer
friends regularly encounter. This, of course, is a picture of the opening of
the box and the first time seeing and holding the brand new book.
My press, Sundress
Publications, and my editor, Erin Elizabeth Smith, gave me a lot of say over my
cover—which is not always the case in literary publishing—and I love what Erin
put together with artist Gabrielle Montesanti and cover designer Kristen
Camille Ton. I don’t anticipate any surprises when I open my box, having
approved a proof, but still, I can’t wait to see my book—to hold it in my
hands.
And of course I’ll need a
photographer at the ready to record the moment—my moment. Mike, my partner, is
standing by to take the picture, and he may be even more excited than I am.
Have you ever planned an
outfit for opening a box? Have you contemplated a manicure for the occasion?
Well, that’s where I am. It’s a little like buying a pretty nightgown for the
first pic with a new baby. That shit gets a lot of looks, and despite the pain
and effort of pushing nine pounds out of the vague, feminine region my
nine-year-old refers to as “your butt,” new moms are expected to be radiant.
Strangely, it usually does work that way. Creation makes us glow.
As far as the idea of prettifying
myself to receive a box goes, I’m resisting. I’m determined to greet my book as
naturally as I produced it—over years, mostly still-dark mornings, of quiet
focus and contemplation, and long stretches of frustrating revision.
Making poetry is not
necessarily pretty. I spend many long minutes each day with my hands pressed
over my eyes, or with my lips moving soundlessly as I go over a poem in an
attempt to get it just right. I’ve caught myself digging my fingers into my
hair and pulling, as if I could extract the right word out the top of my head
if I just applied enough pressure. I
regularly scrunch up my face and grimace at the dumb stuff I come up with on
the way to a finished poem. I produce a whole lot of stupid in my desire to
serve truth and beauty.
In short, I suspect I look
kind of crazed in the writing process. It’s ugly work. And I’d hate to think
that my poems would arrive home and not recognize their own mom in the literary
equivalent of a frilly new duster.
As in the delivery room, I
suspect there will be two pics taken. One will remind us of the red-faced,
sweaty astonishment of a mom awkwardly first-time holding a gooey screamer, and
one will show all the composure of a Madonna cradling the nestling babe whose
arrival might save us all. The second, of course, is the one I’ll approve for
social media.
Either way, I could probably use
a manicure.
Wahoooooooooooooza! I'm so excited to see this picture! Hope you have the champagne on ice, too.
ReplyDeleteThat's a good idea!
DeleteUh, book launch party! That's when I would do the "glamor" thing.
ReplyDeleteOf course, I'm an Internet hound, so I would have an in-person AND online party. Preferably on Facebook with my publisher advertising the event. Heck, all events. And I'd invite everyone with an Internet connection.
What is your promotion/marketing plan? Any tips you could pass on?
Chapbooks don't give you legitimacy? Or does a full collection just feel better? How old (to you) is old when talking about publication of a poet's first collection? At what age did you get your first chapbook accepted?
I'm thirty-one with no chapbook publication in sight. Sometimes, I don't care how old I am when people see me as a "legitimate poet" but, other times, I feel like I'm almost too old to make a "proper splash".
I just saw this because the internet is weird and my internet service is wack. That aside--Congrats! I want a copy! And I just loves ya. Are u using SquareUp or PayPal? I can order around August 18th.
ReplyDeleteI just saw this because the internet is weird and my internet service is wack. That aside--Congrats! I want a copy! And I just loves ya. Are u using SquareUp or PayPal? I can order around August 18th.
ReplyDelete