Poetry, Tomatoes, and Coffee

On Saturday, August 15, I had a signing for my book, What Feeds Us, at The Fine Grind, a lovely coffee shop in a nearby town. I didn't know it was lovely as I hadn't been there before, but I did know that it had been voted #1 Coffeehouse in northern New Jersey by NJ Monthly Magazine. I also knew that the shop had recently begun a book signing series called "The Fine Print," so when I heard they were looking for authors, I contacted their events coordinator, Jessica Maarek, and we picked a date.

I went with little expectation of much happening. Middle of August, peak vacation time, temperature in the mid-90's, book close to its third birthday, venue close to home where I figured that anyone who wanted my book already had it. Wrong! We had a nice turnout and I sold a goodly number of books. Met some nice people. The time zipped right along, unlike the last signing I did where I sat and watched the clock.

Two unexpected perks: 1) An invitation to give a reading in the spring at a fairly nearby venue where I haven't read before, and 2) An interview with Diane Lilli, founder of and editor and main reporter for The Jersey Tomato, a new online newspaper. Diane, it turned out, loves poetry and graduated from Emerson where she just missed Tom Lux. She came to the signing and we had a nice conversation. She hopes to begin featuring a poem a week in the newspaper. I love that idea!

The article, A Poetic Feast, was posted in the newspaper on Monday, August 17. It includes my poem "Linguini." (By the way, I wasn't as drunk as I appear to be in that photo. If I was under the influence, it was the influence of poetry.)

This experience once again proves that we writers must take advantage of opportunities that come our way. We never know what other doors might open when we pass through one door.

I was the first poet hosted by The Fine Grind. The owners, Rhonda and Jon Mallek, hope to have more. I applaud the efforts of anyone who is helping to bring more literature into our lives, especially more poetry. To encourage more support for their authors, Rhonda and Jon and Jessica have put up bookcases in a cozy back corner. There they stock books by their visiting authors.

This experience also whet my appetite for a nice Jersey beefsteak tomato, so I went to the farm this morning and bought one that's almost as pretty as the one in the painting above. Also picked up some nice white corn.

---

Writing about Obsessions

I'm a bit obsessive about fruit. I keep coming back for more. I’m often asked why I write poems about fruit—the strawberry, blueberry, apricot, apple, and others. This obsession with fruit is part of a larger obsession with food in general. Of course, it goes back to my childhood. I was a fussy eater whose father insisted that every plate be cleaned. I became adept at surreptitiously getting rid of what I could not bear to swallow. I made unnecessary trips to the bathroom to flush away wads of liver. I coughed asparagus into napkins. I stuffed my pockets with filet of sole. I plastered cottage ham under the dining room table. I risked danger. Food could get me in trouble.

In early adolescence I was a bit pudgy. The foods I loved—cake, cookies, candy, ice cream sundaes—were prohibited by my father who wanted me slender. My cravings only increased. I longed for something sweet and sticky. On the sly I consumed entire jars of Marshmallow Fluff.

I went to Sunday school, racking up eleven years of perfect attendance. That’s where I first met Eve and learned about the garden, the snake, and the apple. I must have filed all of that away for future use. Fruit, temptation, capitulation.

And then I saw the 1963 film, Tom Jones. I was mesmerized by that famous eating scene in which Tom and a buxom woman he meets at an inn sit at opposite ends of a long table and proceed to rip apart chicken legs and stuff their faces with juicy grapes, all the while gazing at each other with—yes!—seduction in their eyes. Food and sex. Of course! An extension of the apple.

I have been punished for my transgressions. Several years ago I developed a cranky stomach. Right at the top of the list of foods I could no longer eat—most of my favorite fruits. I only want them more. I am tantalized by their colors and aromas, their suggestive shapes, their various textures, the seeds, the skin. They are dangerous. They will make me suffer. I only want them more.

Writing about fruit is my way of getting what I want.

Organic Fruit

I want to sing
a song worthy of
the avocado, renegade
fruit, strict individualist, pear
gone crazy. Praise to its skin

like an armadillo’s, the refusal
to adulate beauty. Schmoo-shaped
and always face forward, it is what it
is. Kudos to its courage, its inherent love
of democracy. Hosannas for its motley coat,
neither black, brown, nor green, but purple-hued,
like a bruise. Unlike the obstreperous coconut, the

avocado yields to the knife, surrenders its hide of leather,
blade sliding under the skin and stripping the fruit. Praise
to its nakedness posed before me, homely, yellow-green,
and slippery, bottom-heavy like a woman in a Renoir, her
flesh soft velvet. I cup the fruit in my palm, slice and hold,
slice and hold, down to the stone at the core, firm fist at the
center. Pale peridot crescents slip out, like slivers of moon.
Exquisite moment of ripeness! a dash of salt, the first bite
squishes between tongue and palate, eases down my

throat, oozes vitamins and oil. Could anything be more
delicious, more digestible? Plaudits to its versatility,
yummy in Cobb salad, saucy in guacamole, boldly
stuffed with crabmeat. My avocado dangles from
a tree, lifts its puckered face to the sun, pulls
all that light inside. Praise it for being small,
misshapen, and durable. Praise it for
the largeness of its heart.

---

You're Invited to a Book Signing

Saturday, August 15
I'll be doing a book signing for What Feeds Us
The Fine Grind
Plaza Farnese
101 rt. 23 / Pompton Ave.
Little Falls, NJ
Come for some poetry
Come for some coffee and goodies
10:00 AM - 12:00 noon

THE FINE GRIND WAS VOTED #1 COFFEEHOUSE IN NORTHERN NEW JERSEY BY NJ MONTHLY

---

2010 Poet's Market

I'm happy to report that I have an article in the just-released 2010 Poet's Market, the bible of poets looking for journals to submit to. As in previous issues, this edition begins with a number of useful, practical articles. Mine is entitled "Finding Readers: How to Get Your Poetry into Their Hands." I wish the editor had not removed the word "Book" after "Poetry" as getting your book out into the world is the focus of my article, not simply getting your poetry out. Oh well, not major.

About this time last year I saw editor Robert Lee Brewer's call for proposals for articles for the next edition. I had an idea floating around in my head so I wrote it up and sent it in. Much to my delight, Robert accepted it. I was given a word limit and sent a contract. Money would cross hands! (I hate to sound avaricious, but it's really nice to be paid for one's writing work.)

My proposal included compiling a list of small presses, ones that published no more than a dozen poetry books per year, that were selective, that accepted manuscripts outside of contests, and that produced good-looking books. These included my own publisher, Wind Publications, plus Pecan Grove Press, CavanKerry Press, Steel Toe Books, Ahsahta Books, The Backwaters Press, and Mayapple Press.

I contacted each publisher and asked them to send me names and email information for two of their poets who had had success selling a goodly number of books. I asked what they did to promote the books they published. And I also asked each editor what advice they would give poets about increasing their readership for their own books. (I should mention that while I ended with seven publishers I initially contacted nine. Two did not bother to reply which told me a lot about how hard those publishers work for their poets!)

I then contacted two poets from each press. Surprisingly, a few did not reply. Who passes up an opportunity to get one's name and book title into an article? Apparently, some poets. But the responses I received from most of the poets were very useful. I asked them just three questions, all focused on what they did to help promote their own books.

The premise behind the article is that if you have a book with a small press and you want the book to be successful then you are going to have to work hard on behalf of your book. You cannot expect your publisher to do all the work. He doesn't have the money to do a big ad campaign—the consensus was that ads do not sell poetry books—and he works with a small staff and may, in fact, be himself the entire staff. If you're not willing to put in some labor, then please don't complain when your book sits on the shelf.

I received some excellent responses from the poets. I then compiled those responses and organized them into three sections: 1) Spreading the Word, 2) Lining Up Readings, and 3) Using the Internet. In this last section, if I were writing the article now, I'd have to add Twitter and new sites like She Writes and ReadWritePoem.

I was surprised that a few poets said one of their best strategies for getting their books into the hands of readers was to give away the books. That's nice, but it wasn't what I had in mind. Why should poets give away their work? Haven't they worked hard and long on it? I think we devalue our work when we just give it away or trade it away. However, my final piece of advice to poets with books was and is this: "Promoting your book is the business of poetry, but don't expect to make money."

Do expect, though, to work hard on behalf of the work that has taken you years to produce. Your book deserves your best effort. So does your publisher. And all those potential readers. I hope my article will offer some useful ideas for poets with books burning to get into the hands of readers.

---

Are You Writing Gibberish?

If you're not writing gibberish, perhaps you should be. A week ago I spent a day with a gang of girl poets generating new work. We each brought a prompt. Poets have mixed feelings about prompts. Some claim to be unable to write to them at all, some say if you need prompts you're not a real poet, and some, like me, love them. I like the surprise, not knowing what's coming at me. I like the pressure of writing to the clock. I find that kind of tension creative.

We did two prompts in the morning, 20 minutes each, followed by a read-around with minimal commentary. Mostly appreciative ah's and oh's. The philosophy in operation is that the poet should first have an opportunity to work through several drafts before the poem is exposed to a real critique.

We had lunch together. Then we circled up again and did three more prompts. So everyone left with 5 new drafts in progress. Not all will make it into poemdom, but a number will.

One of my favorite prompts of the day began with these words:
The sicks wry curns orthen we cow natied lay, their dis sler calay, be, wills mat takespurn withe the be cove re's ort-ache patuntroution is ay.

Huh? you ask.

The words had been tossed out by a Gibberish Generator. The prompter had put in some lines from Hamlet and then the generator did its thing. Our job was to translate the gibberish into the opening lines of a poem and go from there.

My first effort began as follows:

Six weary cornstalks with a cow nearby lying down, their distressful corn sounds and cow sounds will make spinning with the bees regarding heartache part ache, part joy.

That ended my translation part. Then I kept going from where that left off. For the sake of my discussion here, I'll just focus on the opening lines. My next draft:

Six weary cornstalks, a cow nearby,
distressful corn sounds and cow sounds
make singing with the bees regarding
heartache part ache, part joy.

"Spinning" is now "singing" and lines are emerging. Not happy with that last line. Corny. (Did I say corny?)

Next draft:

The cracking noise of corn growing
and the groans of cows make singing
with the bees regarding heartache
part ache, part joy.

One of the poets had mentioned that research has proven that corn makes noise while it's growing. That idea was floating around in my head, so I researched it. Sure enough, corn is a noisy veggie. Idea of music is developing. Now actively disliking the last line but still unable to find something better so it's just holding a place.

Next draft:

The cracking noise of corn growing
and the groans of cows, background for singing
with the bees regarding heartache.

Can't replace a line with something better? Maybe just kill it.

At this point, it's feeling like a poem may result from these efforts. I've got a full draft now, all in 3-line stanzas. No title has emerged which may mean that the poem still isn't fully in focus. I know there will be more drafts. Needless to say, without the launch pad of the gibberish, I would not have produced these lines.

Here's a link to an online Gibberish Generator:

Give it a try. Surprise yourself into a new poem.

PS: Last night as I tossed and turned, I suddenly realized that I'd allowed four -ing words into that first stanza! Four! And two as line endings. I am determined to get rid of at least three of them. More work. More fun—I love hunting for better words.

---

Mixing Poetry and Business

Several weeks ago I was invited to give a talk to the local Rotary Club at their regular luncheon meeting. I was happy to accept the offer as one of my passions is widening the audience for poetry, bringing poetry to people who might not ordinarily be reading it. The meeting took place this week. I must confess to generally being a bit more nervous when I read and talk in front of local groups. What if I'm terrible and then I have to run into these people at the grocery store!

But I didn't need to be nervous. The group was wonderful and the whole experience was delightful. We had around 30 people, not bad for peak vacation time in July. The meeting began with the Pledge, a song, and a prayer. Then a bunch of announcements. There was decorum, procedures, etc. But also a lot of good humor. We had lunch and then my host gave me a lovely introduction.

I'd been asked to speak for approximately 20-30 minutes. I began by reading one poem, "Linguini." Then I talked a bit about how I became a poet, how I learned the craft, and what I've been doing as a poet since leaving teaching. Then came the Q&A. I'd brought along some emergency questions just in case no one asked any. Again, no need to worry. They had lots of questions and theirs were much more interesting than the ones I'd brought.

Someone asked about my reading style which he likened to singing, a comment I just love as I'm a terrible singer. I talked about the importance of slowing down for poetry, of paying attention to syllables and the pattern of stressed and unstressed, of feeling the poem in your body.

Someone else asked me for a definition of poetry. A trick question! I used Stafford's definition: an artistic arrangement of words on the page. Music came in again. And some of the special techniques of poetry. Line breaks. Stanzas instead of paragraphs.

Someone asked about the value of poetry with disadvantaged students. My theory is that poetry is good for all students but is a kind of magic for those who are experiencing hard times. I talked about how poetry makes people more compassionate and offers an outlet for all kinds of feelings. How it lets us know we are not alone.

Someone asked about poetry as therapy. Again, yes, yes. It's not therapy, but it's certainly therapeutic.

And then before I got to my second poem, my host gave me the hook. Our time was up. But I was able to talk individually with people as the meeting broke up. A few said they were going to buy my book. A few said they'd like to try writing poetry. The conversation continued. I hope it's still going on.

Thanks to Robert Markman for the photo and for the two appropriately chosen vocabulary words that were part of the program: metrophobia and rhapsodomancy. Look them up!

---

Girl Talk: The Movie

Here's a slideshow of an event I ran on Saturday, March 14. This was the second year this event ran, again at the West Caldwell Public Library in West Caldwell, NJ. Called "Girl Talk: A Women's Poetry Reading," the event was held in celebration of Women's History Month.

This year we had 25 women poets read. Each poet read one poem on a woman-related topic. The result was a wonderful mixture of styles, topics, voices. It is not a male-bashing opportunity but rather a celebration of womanhood and sisterhood.

We had a great turnout and read to a full room, somewhere around 70-80 people, young and old, male and female.

Following the reading, we had a tea party consisting of many tasty treats prepared by the poets. We went home well-nourished.

---