Published Book Prizes, Grant Writing Tips, and more helpful links
Happy birthday to my little brother, born in the dragon year of 1976, so it’s doubly lucky for him! (I’m pretty sure that solar storm yesterday was just the dragon acting up!)
If you’ve been reading my blog you know I’ve been wrestling with grant applications; here’s Susan Rich’s terrifically helpful tips for applying to grants:
http://thealchemistskitchen.blogspot.com/2012/01/grant-proposals-some-random-thoughts.html?showComment=1327471180104#c5106411319332706938
I’m finally done; now all I have to do is bite my nails while waiting for results!
And, in case you, like me, just had a book come out last year, Jessica Goodfellow supplies a great list of post-publication prizes here (some of which I had never heard of:)
http://jessicagoodfellow.blogspot.com/2011/04/post-publication-book-contests.html
I’m not going to go to this year’s AWP, so I’m relying on you guys to report back with all the news, gossip, how awesome Margaret Atwood’s keynote might be, etc. Sorry to miss you! Can’t wait til AWP is in my backyard…
Having a harder time locating a house here that I was hoping; I guess one-story homes on the East side of Seattle are sort of rare, and it seems no one wants to sell their houses now that prices are so low, so there’s very little inventory of any sort. Because we’re going FHA, we have to avoid most condos, so that eliminates those possibilities. Tough stuff!
I found out from my publisher that I’ve sold about eleven times as many paper copies of She Returns to the Floating World as e-book copies. So I’m providing a link here and reminding you this great-looking (if I do say so myself – but seriously, Kitsune Books did a great job of formatting the poems) e-book is only $3.50, people! If you haven’t picked up a copy of my book yet, or you were wavering, this is your chance – go go go!
Interview with Susan Rich – Travel, Poetry, Food
Today’s interview is with Susan Rich, whose latest book, The Alchemist’s Kitchen, I reviewed for Rattle here.
Susan Rich is the author of three collections of poems including The Alchemist’s Kitchen which was short listed for the Forward Poetry Book of the Year Award, Cures Include Travel, and The Cartographer’s Tongue /Poems of the World which won the PEN West Award for Poetry. She is winner of the Times Literary Supplement Award, an Artists Trust Fellowship, and a Grant for Artist Project (GAP) award.
Web site – http://www.susanrich.net
Blog – http://thealchemistskitchen.blogspot.com/
Susan’s books –
Jeannine Hall Gailey: Susan, all of your books of poetry have a connection to your history of travel (for the Peace Corps, correct?) and I was wondering how travel inspires you and what you would recommend to other poets to help them turn their travels into poems?
Susan Rich: When I was in my twenties and thirties I lived and worked in several different countries: Bosnia, Republic of Niger, and South Africa — to name a few. Travel was my drug of choice. I worked in the field of international development and human rights for Oxfam America, the Peace Corps and later, for Amnesty International. In South Africa I was teaching at the University of Cape Town on a Fulbright Fellowship. In none of these positions was I actually focused on my own writing. Perhaps that’s important to mention: writing happens (for me) when I am busy doing other things. My desire was to help others, not to navel gaze (as my friends in international development would call any creative writing.)
As far as turning my travels into poems, I don’t. Again, my writing doesn’t work that way. I can write about actual people I meet that intrigue me or about an experience I had that is beyond my understanding. Tourist poems don’t interest me; poems of intense experience are what I care about and they are not held by landscape or continent. My only advice for other poets would be to live authentically. Don’t enter a new place thinking that you have the right to write about it. Enter with an open heart and an awareness of how much you don’t know.
JHG: If your poetry does not come directly out of your travels, how are the two connected?
SR: That’s both a tough question and a simple one. I don’t think that Elizabeth Bishop set out to write “Brazil” poems, but since she lived in Brazil for more than a decade, Brazil found its way into her poems. I think Lorca’s A Poet in New York was a way for him to make sense of what he was experiencing in a foreign country. More recently, Naomi Shihab Nye writes about Palestine, Columbia, and the local grocery store. One of the things I love about poetry is that it transcends national boundaries and moves us beyond our own history. Writing from our travels is just one more imaginative leap that poetry grants us.
JHG: What international writer have you discovered along the way that has impacted your own poetry?
SR: The poet that I went to South Africa to study is Ingrid deKok whose work is finally available in the United States. Seasonal Fires is a selection of her work and I highly recommend it. I was first introduced to Ingrid de Kok via her poems. At the time, I was an MFA student at the University Oregon searching for a subject which I could use to apply for a Fulbright Fellowship. Amazed by her poems, I tracked down via inter-library loan, a copy of Familiar Ground, published in South Africa. The book arrived stamped with the name of a community college in Michigan. It had yellow glue peeking from its spine, its pages felt tissue-paper thin. That hobo of a book changed my life and led me to Cape Town, South Africa.
It is a testament to Ingrid de Kok’s work that the poems spoke to me across countries and continents. Poems such as “Small Passing” and “To Drink Its Water”. I arrived in Cape Town at the same time that Snailpress released Transfer and I had the privilege of reviewing it for The Cape Times and later, for Poets & Writers.
Ingrid de Kok is a poet that as Marianne Moore said of Elizabeth Bishop, “she is spectacular in being unspectacular.” Indeed, Bishop is certainly one of de Kok’s influences. However, as with Bishop, the poems are hardly modest or polite. Her work deals with the struggles of Apartheid South Africa as well as the complexities of South Africa today. There are poems of The Truth and Reconciliation Commission, but there also poems of the natural beauty of the African veldt.
I should mention that Ingrid has since become a good friend. She has come out to Seattle to give readings and I anticipate her books with great pleasure.
JHG: What are you working on currently?
SR: Now that summer is here, I can finally spend concentrated time on my own poems. It’s always a difficult shift for me after the intensity of the academic year. At the moment, I have two projects going — somehow two different approaches allow me to feel less pressure on any one poem. I’ve just ordered a few books on the life of photographer Imogen Cunningham (1883-1976) who lived and worked in Seattle and San Francisco. She was still photographing well into her nineties. I’m drawn to her work — why I can’t tell you except to say that it seems utterly compelling to me, beyond what is seen. A strange thing to say about a photograph perhaps, but there it is. The other project is to go back through my notes and drafts of poems from my time re-visiting Bosnia in 2008. I always do better with a fair bit of distance from my travels. Maybe I need to forget what I saw in order to invent what I know.
JHG: Besides writing moving poems about your travels, you have a wonderful knack for food poetry. Will you share a food-poetry-related exercise here?
SR: “There is no love more sincere than the love of food.” George Bernard Shaw
I first created this exercise when confronted with sixty people who had shown up for what I thought would be a small afternoon workshop at Lower Columbia College in Longview, Washington. I was floored by the over-stuffed classroom and needed a fun way for people to introduce themselves to the group. Since we would be looking at the interconnections between poetry and food, I had people introduce themselves with one sentence that began with their name and then mentioned a food they either loved or loathed. Going around the very large circle provided a diversity of foods and expressions. I was amazed at how passionately and confidently people seemed when they spoke of their own personal preferences. It was a simple step from those first lines to poems that expanded on the students’ original sentences.
My hope is that this allows students to develop confidence in their writing, coupled with a sense of play (go wild; make chocolate your reason to live; would you die rather than eat chopped liver again?) so that they can create energetic and entertaining pieces.
My Name is Stan and I Loathe Lobster: A Poem of Exaggeration
Ask students to introduce themselves by giving their name and a food that they love or loathe. Once everyone has done this and you’ve perhaps asked a few questions—“Jeannine, why do you love sauerkraut?” or “Barry, what is there to loathe about chocolate ice cream”? —everyone should proceed to the activity below.
Write a poem in which you take your like or dislike to the level of the absurd. One woman in my workshop started with “I’m Karen and I love wild salmon.” In her poem of exaggeration the wild salmon became a very sexy boyfriend waiting for her when she came home from work with a freshly prepared dinner. Of course, once the poem gets going the first line that we began with often becomes obsolete. Although you may also choose to keep a first line like this one, again from my workshop: “There should be a law against a cheese smarter than me.”
The more fun you have writing this, the better.
More Poetry Month Celebration – Busy busy busy
If you haven’t signed up yet for my poetry month book giveaway, do so now! And here’s Kelli’s links to even more poetry book giveaways!
Tonight I’m going to go see Susan Rich, Major Jackson, and Brian Turner read and do a Q&A together downtown as part of Seattle Arts & Lectures. This Sunday I plan to attend a reading with some of my fave peeps – Susan Rich, Kathleen Flenniken, Rebecca Loudon, and Colleen J. McElroy. I’m only attending like, 1/100th of the poetry events going on around Seattle for Poetry Month, yet I have something to attend almost every single day. Not to mention that Sakura-Con and NorWesCon are both going on next weekend, which means lots of socializing in a short time with out-of-town friends.
I’ve also spent some time each day proofing my manuscript (with help from other poet-friends and family members, whom I thank profusely) and teaching National U’s MFA program’s April/May advanced poetry workshop. I’m lucky to get one poem written a week in April, much less a poem a day! No time for loafing or leisure – it’s April! Ha! (I’m also formulating an idea of doing a class on speculative poetry on my own. Seems like there are lots of speculative poets but not a lot of speculative poetry classes!)
Hope to see some of you down at Benaroya Hall tonight!
Things I’d Wish I’d Known When I Was a Younger Writer
I was inspired by Susan Rich’s blog post of advice for young writers and Jim Berhle’s more humorous but equally valid post here. So I thought I’d pass on the things I wish I’d known earlier to you all. Please post your own tips you wish you’d known earlier in the comments!
–Be assertive about seeking out what you need – information, mentorship, etc. When I was in my early twenties, I was waiting for someone to tell me I was good and to tell me what to do to “make it” as a writer. But you know what? No one did. I wish I had known to go out and do more on my own. I got myself a copy of Poet’s Market when I was 19 and read every word in it and read magazines like Writer’s Digest, but other than that, I was clueless when I started out. Even when I signed up with my MA, no one really discussed stuff like how to send out work, how to get grants or fellowships, or how getting a teaching job happened. It was like this was all secret code, and you had to be a member of a secret society to get it. No one is going to hand you everything at the beginning, no matter how good a writer you might be, how nice a person, etc. If you don’t know how to write a cover letter, ask someone more experienced to show you one of their examples. If you admire a poet, write to them, tell them what they have meant to you and ask for advice or help. (You’d be surprised how many of them will respond, even if not all of them do.) If your professors haven’t really paid attention to your work, ask to meet with them after class and talk about your work and their suggestions. Or find a writing group nearby and start meeting with them. I didn’t write for a few years after my MA, because of a lack of encouragement and that feeling of being outside of a closed system, and I regret that lost time now. Don’t wait for someone to tell you you’re good enough. Go out and find the mentoring you need. Sometimes that’s not going to be grad school. It might be a local community group. The Bainbridge Island poetry group I’ve been going to for eight or nine years (or ten or eleven?) now has been much more important to my writing life than either of my graduate degrees, and that is a fact.
–You will probably not regret sacrifices you make for your writing. I had so much anxiety about the money situation. I still do. I grew up in a household with two parents who had grown up in horrible poverty, who had gotten college educations so that they could do better, and they did, but money was still always tight for us growing up. As an adult, I’ve always felt a bit behind the eight ball financially – and money for things like, say, a poetry class or a writer’s conference can seem like frivolous waste. But it is not. Spend in line with your values. You may regret buying that used car, or that house (darn Virginia money pit! Never buy a house with a well! Sorry, had a Richmond house-ownership flashback there) but you won’t regret meeting a writer you’ve always admired or learning more about the craft you really want to excel at. You will not get rich being a poet, in fact, you will probably lose money doing it, if I’m any indication. But it just might be worth it.
–Get involved. Volunteering for literary magazines and organizations gives you an inside view of how things work in the poetry world, and the perspective can do a lot for you as a writer. Those rejections – when you’re the one writing them, you learn that not every poem that gets rejected is a failure, so the writer can’t think of it that way – sometimes the poems just don’t fit a theme or they’ve already accepted a poem about crème brulee and apocalypse or the editor is in the mood for one kind of poetry versus another that day. Fund raising for literary organizations also makes you aware of the limits of audience, and the limits of interest in literature among the general populace, but also how just a few lovers of literature can make a difference. The best thing volunteering does is that it puts you in touch with other volunteers, people who value the same things you do, who believe enough in what they’re doing to do it for free.
–Be curious. The best thing I did early in my writing career was volunteer as a literary magazine reviewer for NewPages.com. They sent me literary magazines of various sorts, some new and some revered gray ladies, and every month I got a new batch, read them, and tried to point out what was unique and interesting about each. If you could force every new poet to do this, I would, because it opened up a whole new world of publishing to me. I also started writing book reviews and that keeps me reading all the time – reading poets I wouldn’t otherwise read, or find, on my own. This is the best way to find out what is going on in the contemporary poetry world – what are the people around you publishing, and why, and how?
Charms of the Country and Kelli’s readings
Yesterday, after a day of bracing storm and swirl, we had a day of brilliantly watery sunshine and the temp pushed up to 64 with a clear cold wind, which still feels like 50. We did all the things that we moved to our neighborhood to do: we drove past a Christmas tree farm and a farm with Shetland ponies, then hiked a river trail up to another horse farm, then visited truffle-sniffing potbellied pigs at this place. (It’s where I tell everyone to stay if they visit us. I want to move in there myself if I ever make Hemingway money. ) The trees showed their brilliant colors and I wore a scarf for the first time in over two years. We came home and cooked apples with caramel sauce and had baked potatoes. It was a perfect fall day.
And today promises to be another gorgeous day, only this time Kelli is visiting to take me to her Grange Cafe reading, and we’ll eat creme brulee and drink coffee. It will all be very poet-y. By the way, you should check out Martha Silano’s interview with Kellli here. And I hope to see you all at the Frye Museum on Sunday at 2 PM, where local poets Kelli, Allen Braden, Oliver de la Paz and Susan Rich will be reading at the museum. I love poetry readings at art museums and hopefully catch up with my friends! Plus I get to wear black again. I didn’t wear black much in California either.
I was actually excited watching the news yesterday. I must be getting old, because I get more excited about politics than I used to. I’m still cynical, but it’s kind of a wonderful process, this getting to participate in one’s government, even if sometimes if feels like our votes barely get heard among the throng. It’s kind of like poetry: you send out your messages into the universe, having faith that somehow they will make a difference.
Almost Thanksgiving…
If this causes you to think about holiday shopping, then check out Kristin Berkey-Abbott’s excellent list of poetry books to buy:
http://kristinberkey-abbott.blogspot.com/2009/11/books-with-spine-for-your-holiday.html
and poetry chapbooks:
http://kristinberkey-abbott.blogspot.com/2009/11/chapbooks-make-great-stocking-stuffers.html
If you’re thinking about applying for a residency, Susan Rich give some tips at her new blog:
http://thealchemistskitchen.blogspot.com/2009/11/artist-residencies-what-you-should-know.html
And, if you want to know what I’m doing, we’re celebrating quietly as our families are out in the Midwest and most of our friends in the Northwest. I’ve ordered some duck, as there’s no point roasting a turkey for two, and I wanted to try something different. (Probably serving with a cranberry-cherry sauce on top.) Also on the menu: cornbread stuffing with dried cherries and pine nuts and maybe a little duck confit, a delicata squash baked with cranberries, and a mini pumpkin-cheesecake. Probably that’s already too much for us, and I haven’t even counted a potato or green veggie dish!
Remembering what to be thankful for. I love seeing the trees with their orange and red leaves against a sharp blue sky – I missed fall while I lived in San Diego (too sunny and desert-like – plus a lack of trees) and Seattle (where we’d have one day of fall, then a rainstorm knocked down all the leaves, then we’d start nine months of rain.) I am thankful for a steady stream of sunny days in between rain showers here. I’m thankful for all the kind back-channel notes I received about my post on being childless, from people with children and people without. I’m thankful for poets and for people who read poetry. I’m thankful for friends who don’t forget about me even though I keep moving away, and for friendly gestures from new acquaintances. I’m thankful for writing, thankful for some employment, thankful for my husband who has been an extra super-superhero as I’ve been on crutches most of this year (broken foot, sprained ankle, then another sprained ankle after that…) and he has been on housekeeping, cat-caretaking and grocery-shopping duty. I’m thankful I survived the scariest bout of pneumonia I ever had this year. I’m actually really thankful that a new year is about to begin, hopefully a better, healthier year, a year full of promise and opportunity.
More on Contests…
Go congratulate my dear friend Kelli on her win of the White Pine Book award! I told her, the weirdest thing was, the night before she found out, I dreamed she won a book prize. I had the wrong publisher, so I’m not completely pyschic, but still…
I’m very excited for her, and here are a few things I really like about her press: they print beautiful books (which I know because another friend, Susan Rich, has published with them) and they have excellent distribution with Consortium. They seem committed to their authors. These things make a huge difference, in the long run, in author happiness. I can’t wait to get a copy of Letters from the Emily Dickinson Room!