"My second book, which was more left of center, much more experimental, was actually rejected 77 times in 13 years."
So much for the fantasy that winning a high prestige prize (the Yale, won by John Ashbery, Adrienne Rich, W.S. Merwin!) sets you up for success. 77 rejections for a Yale winner's follow up. Whew! What does that add up to in reading/contest entry fees? With a typical reading fee being $20 ...
My thanks to you -- and to Sean for talking about his numbers. I have entered the Yale Series twice. Once when I was under 40, and last year when I saw that the age limitation had been removed. You no longer have to be Younger! I try to avoid reading fees. It seems to me that if I spend $2000 paying editors just to read my manuscript, I might as well publish it myself and give it away. I don't know. How do we calculate these things? I mean, I justified the Yale entry fee by telling myself I was buying a lottery ticket -- the chances of winning are low, but the rewards would be great. Sean's experience with finding a publisher for his second book reminds me of something I read about first book contests -- the winner has not found a publisher committed to the poet's future. It's a one-time thing. I don't know how many publishers commit to their writers these days anyway (not that I have historical statics), but this posits the first book contest as a cul-de-sac or a peak? The poet has to start from scratch with subsequent books. Maybe the poet always does? The cachet of being winner of a prestigious contest must help in some ways -- getting readings or teaching gigs, say -- but Sean's example shows that it doesn't warm the hearts of other publishers. I mean, I hope it doesn't chill the hearts of other publishers.
I am talking with a publisher right now. It's a small press so the editor is the publisher. I just sent her a new version of the manuscript, trying to follow her suggestions for revision. I wait on tenterhooks for her thoughts. This one isn't a collection of poems, but more prose poem/essay. The poetry manuscript (the one that didn't win the Yale) is still looking for a friend -- I have a ways to go before I get to 77. I will try to enjoy the journey.
I have several friends who love Sean Singer's work, but I haven't sampled it yet. Now I will! I love his practicality about what writing is--you want to filll the page, that's it. I so feel that. What "inspires" me? Putting words on the page so that make ribs or squares to rectangles or rivers. And what he said about the prize is so helpful, and makes perfect sense. Thank you, Sean Singer and Radha!
I'd be curious to know how much the second book changed in the 13 years of trying to get it published. The same thing happened to my master's thesis, and looking to the poems now feel incredibly stale. They also were dated — some included politics dating back to 2004 — so the farther away the years got from the historical center of the book, the flatter the poems felt (I mean, to be published in a book).
Kind of why I've ensconced myself in the poetry of my Substack account, since there's a time-stamp to the work.
I would guess there’s a risk of eventual flatness (or worse) when writing about anything topical. Writing that remains fresh maybe does so because it works at multiple levels (example: Animal Farm).
Another example: The lyrics to Dylan’s “Maggie’s Farm” from over half a century ago still strike me as highly political, but they’re so mysterious about what Maggie’s family is and what the speaker’s relationship to the family is, that it’s easy to forget about the political side.
Dylan sings this as kind of a lament, but I sense anger behind the lyrics as well. That’s probably another thing that helps keep it fresh: the anger is still alive, even if the unspecified source of it is not.
"My second book, which was more left of center, much more experimental, was actually rejected 77 times in 13 years."
So much for the fantasy that winning a high prestige prize (the Yale, won by John Ashbery, Adrienne Rich, W.S. Merwin!) sets you up for success. 77 rejections for a Yale winner's follow up. Whew! What does that add up to in reading/contest entry fees? With a typical reading fee being $20 ...
My thanks to you -- and to Sean for talking about his numbers. I have entered the Yale Series twice. Once when I was under 40, and last year when I saw that the age limitation had been removed. You no longer have to be Younger! I try to avoid reading fees. It seems to me that if I spend $2000 paying editors just to read my manuscript, I might as well publish it myself and give it away. I don't know. How do we calculate these things? I mean, I justified the Yale entry fee by telling myself I was buying a lottery ticket -- the chances of winning are low, but the rewards would be great. Sean's experience with finding a publisher for his second book reminds me of something I read about first book contests -- the winner has not found a publisher committed to the poet's future. It's a one-time thing. I don't know how many publishers commit to their writers these days anyway (not that I have historical statics), but this posits the first book contest as a cul-de-sac or a peak? The poet has to start from scratch with subsequent books. Maybe the poet always does? The cachet of being winner of a prestigious contest must help in some ways -- getting readings or teaching gigs, say -- but Sean's example shows that it doesn't warm the hearts of other publishers. I mean, I hope it doesn't chill the hearts of other publishers.
I am talking with a publisher right now. It's a small press so the editor is the publisher. I just sent her a new version of the manuscript, trying to follow her suggestions for revision. I wait on tenterhooks for her thoughts. This one isn't a collection of poems, but more prose poem/essay. The poetry manuscript (the one that didn't win the Yale) is still looking for a friend -- I have a ways to go before I get to 77. I will try to enjoy the journey.
Interesting perspectives on writing in first person. Lots to consider here. Thank you.
I have several friends who love Sean Singer's work, but I haven't sampled it yet. Now I will! I love his practicality about what writing is--you want to filll the page, that's it. I so feel that. What "inspires" me? Putting words on the page so that make ribs or squares to rectangles or rivers. And what he said about the prize is so helpful, and makes perfect sense. Thank you, Sean Singer and Radha!
I'd be curious to know how much the second book changed in the 13 years of trying to get it published. The same thing happened to my master's thesis, and looking to the poems now feel incredibly stale. They also were dated — some included politics dating back to 2004 — so the farther away the years got from the historical center of the book, the flatter the poems felt (I mean, to be published in a book).
Kind of why I've ensconced myself in the poetry of my Substack account, since there's a time-stamp to the work.
I would guess there’s a risk of eventual flatness (or worse) when writing about anything topical. Writing that remains fresh maybe does so because it works at multiple levels (example: Animal Farm).
Another example: The lyrics to Dylan’s “Maggie’s Farm” from over half a century ago still strike me as highly political, but they’re so mysterious about what Maggie’s family is and what the speaker’s relationship to the family is, that it’s easy to forget about the political side.
https://www.bobdylan.com/songs/maggies-farm/
Dylan sings this as kind of a lament, but I sense anger behind the lyrics as well. That’s probably another thing that helps keep it fresh: the anger is still alive, even if the unspecified source of it is not.