Posts Tagged ‘Verse Daily

02
Apr
13

Promoting Your Recently or Soon-to-Be Released Collection of Poems

Below are the notes I used for a presentation I gave in Introduction to Publishing taught by Angela Ball at The University of Southern Mississippi.

//

Most of this advice is for when your poetry publisher does no marketing or publicity, does a limited amount of both, or wants you to help in the promoting. These days, publishers do less promoting than in the past for a variety of reasons, but the main reason is a financial one. Even the more established presses are doing less. So this information is for the poet whose book is published by a press with good intentions but short on funds.

There will be handouts and four sections to this presentation:

  • Change Your Thinking
  • Review Copies: Using Tip Sheets, Lesson Plans, and PDFs
  • Reading Tours: Or How to Have Fun on Vacation
  • Online Celebrating

Change Your Thinking

This idea comes from Kelli Russell Agodon, a fine poet and editor of the Crab Creek Review. She says:

Change your vocabulary. Instead of “marketing” think “share.” Instead of “promotion” think celebrate.”

I like that. It’s more in the spirit of poetry anyway, as poems are shared and the ones we like are celebrated. Besides who likes marketing and promotion. In addition, you will share your book. You will meet other writers, and a good way to break the ice or to make friends is by swapping your books with other writers. And inscribe them for the person, too. A correspondence might develop out of this or a book review or who knows what, but something good comes from sharing books. You might also want to give free copies to instructors who taught you poetry and to your friends who teach poetry. Maybe they’ll like it and/or remember you and want to help you out and use it in one of their courses.

This reminds me of advice a friend of mine gave me: “If you win a contest and money, use that money to buy copies of your own book.” Since you will get a big discount, you can purchase many copies, too. There are two reasons for this. First, you can make more at readings when you sell your own book. If you purchase it for $5 a copy and sell it for $15, then you make $10. Of course, you can only do that at smaller venues or conferences or where a bookstore isn’t involved. The second reason, you will want copies of your book to share and sell for the rest of your life. Most likely, after the first print run, there won’t be a second print run. When this happens, when your book eventually sells out, then there’ll be no more books except the ones you purchased. Save some for your later years because you’ll always be making friends.

If you don’t win a prize, you might want to purchase copies anyway for the same reasons and to help out the publisher.

Review Copies and PDFs

Send review copies of your book to reviewers. See hand-out lists, which I’ve been compiling for some time. [If you want copies of the list of reviewers I’ve compiled, leave a comment at the end of this post.] Most of the information is still up-to-date. Reviews don’t necessarily sell many copies of your book, but it does promote you and your publisher. The more people see what good books a publisher puts out, the better the press looks, and the better you look as a result. Also, the more your name gets out there, the more attention you get for your next book. A review or two here and now is also good publicity for the future.

You will probably also want to send review copies to some journals that first published some of your poems, and be sure to let them know that. Maybe you’ll get a review or maybe just a mention on the editor’s page. Either way, your book and name are mentioned.

Send a copy of the book to the newspaper in the town you grew up in. Maybe they’ll do a little review of it. You might even want to do a reading in the town you grew up in. Sentimentality sells.

Nowadays, it’s expensive for a publisher to send out Advanced Reader Copies (ARC), but nowadays, most books get turned into a PDF before being sent to the printer. You can use this PDF as your ARC that you send to reviewers, and, bonus, you can email it to them for free.

Reading Tours: Or How to Have Fun on Vacation and Using Tip Sheets and Lesson Plans

If your press does not set up a reading tour for you, you probably should. What you will need to do is locate stores and other venues, such as writing centers or conferences, that are nearby. If you are travelling in the future, check out stores and other locations in the area where you are going to visit. Once you locate them, you will need to contact them and send them a tip sheet. Your press should already have a tip sheet made up.

A tip sheet, if you don’t know already, is a sheet of paper with information about the book, you, the press, blurbs about the book, an image of the front cover, and maybe an image of you, too. You can send this to the store along with your query. You might even want to be inventive when you send it. Instead of just asking for a reading and book signing, suggest that maybe you’ll do a workshop with a few writers or ask them to have an open-mic night, or couple yourself with another reader in the area. Try to make a cool event for the store. They are always looking for ways to bring in customers, and if you can think of one for them, bam, you’re in. If you do get a venue, make sure the local paper knows about it.

You will also want a separate tip sheet for books you send to creative writing professors at various universities. This tip sheet will have much of the same information, but it will also include ways for the professor to incorporate your book into their class. Perhaps you can point to a form poem you wrote or invented, or maybe one of your poems was based on a writing prompt and you can share that prompt along with the poem that prompted it. That right there can be a lesson plan for a class, which is one less day of prep the professor has to do. Better yet, create a whole week’s worth of lesson plans from your book. Create three lesson plans for Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Make you’re your beautiful poems utilitarian!

Here’s one I made for The Cave: Lesson Plans for The Cave.

Online Celebrating

Of course there is also your online presence. Make sure you have a Facebook page and Twitter account. Make a post or two a week about your book for a few weeks on both places. Maybe you will want to create a Facebook page for your book where you can post any reviews that have occurred about your book or to notify people where you’ll be reading or so other people can leave posts about how awesome your book is. You might want to do this before the book is released so you can give people pre-order information.

For your twitter account, you might also want to make a special Twitter hashtag for you book, too. That way people can join in the fun and leave remarks about your book with that hashtag. Also use #poetry with your tweets.

Also, give your contact email addresses to your publisher, so they can send out a notification to all your friends and family. Publisher’s like pre-orders. It makes it easier for them to determine a print run.

Make sure you send a copy to Poetry Daily and Verse Daily. You might even want to purchase an ad on Verse Daily. It’s not expensive. $50 for one month and $100 for three months if I remember correctly. Your ad with a link to a place to purchase the book will be on the page every day, and every week when then send out their newsletter, they will mention your book with a little blurb about it.

If you’re really creative or have a friend who is, make a Youtube video of one of your poems. You know, like a movie version of your poem, as Dan Bowman did (or someone did for him) with his book A Plum Tree in Leatherstocking Country. At the end of the video or in the comments on the Youtube page, put down the ordering information and contact information for readings.

//

Obviously there is more that can be done. There’s always more that can be done! This is just a start.//

24
Apr
12

On Christopher Howell’s “Listen” – Line Breaks and Harmonies

     Listen

     Is it an empty house, the body alone
     with its weary old clothes
     or its bullet holes and severed arteries,
     last laugh still shining in its teeth?                         

     The road of answers leaps its ditch
     and descends a dusty hollow
     where nightbirds coo, Pass by, and the Angel
     of Nothingness does his nails.

     Often sky dazzles
     over the great breathing earth.
     Often of its own accord the grain begins again
     to simmer. Deep in the dark

     I find my wife's hand and listen
     as the blue trees bow and bend and I want my soul
     to tell about itself almost
     anything.

     And it says I, too, am a traveler.
     Wait for me. 

GazeI first saw this poem on Verse Daily, but it appeared earlier in Christopher Howell’s Gaze (Milkweed Editions, 2012). (I also post this poem without anyone’s permission, but I hope no one minds. If you do, let me know.)

The poem opens with the beginning of a question, which is followed by a comma. This comma acts as a pivot because here the poem creates a balance on either side. The comma also sets up a metaphor and establishes the tenor and vehicle. The first line also sets up some of the sounds that help accelerate the poem forward. Those sounds are the T, long E, and the long O. You’ll also hear the Z/S sound in “Is.” And the  long E sounds on either side of the comma yoke together the “empty house” and “body alone.” So what this line does, on one level, is to ask, “Is ‘the body alone’ ‘an empty house’?”

The poem begins by asking this, and then continues to extend the metaphor in the next three lines. I also hear this tug and pull between between the short T sounds and the long vowel sounds or just long sounds in general. The poem starts quick – “It is an” and then we get that long em sound that’s rounded out with the P sound in “empty,” and this followed by the T and long E sounds. You can hear this type of play here and there in the poem, and most effectively in line 8, “of Nothingness does his nails.” The effect there is that the line starts quick with all the short syllable in “of Nothingness”. This abruptness then allows the reader to hear the necessary slow down effect that would accompany someone who “does his nails.” Doing your nails is something you do slowly. It implies slowness. It’s like the Angel of Nothingness is just leaning against a wall, hanging out, watching, and doing his nails.

But to those opening lines. The first line, as explained, behave as a balancing act, and its long O rhymes with the long O at the end of line two. Lines three and four also rhyme with the long E sounds in “arteries” and “teeth.” You’ll hear subtle rhymes like that some more in lines 6-9 with the L sounds, and then there are the S and T sounds that rhyme at the ends of lines 13-15, and if you want to hear the “th” in “anything” as a type of S sound, then there’s an additional rhyme sound. And of course, there’s the long distance rhyme of the long E in “me” at the end of the poem, which recalls the long E sounds in line one. The long E sound also occurs in a few more places, as it walks in the cellar of the poem’s sounds like a ghost. You can hear those long E s in lines 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10, 12, 14, and 16.

Lines 3-5 also establish or reestablish the L, S, T, and long O sounds that continually appear and accelerate the poem forward on an harmonic level.

By why are lines 2, 3, and 4 breaking where they are? I think it is because each line is an image thought. Line two shows the body “with its weary old clothes,” which is a single image or the conclusion to the image in line one. Line three has two images, but they seem connected as both indicate an abusive entering into the flesh. Plus, you can’t sever arteries without making a hole.  Or maybe the bullet holes severed the arteries. Anyway, the violence of penetration holds those images together as an image thought. Line four is tight in sounds: three L sounds, the two AH sounds in “last” and “laugh,” the three S sounds and a fourth if you hear “th” as a type of S sound, the short I sounds in “still,” “ing,” “in,” and “its”, the two N sounds, and the four T sounds. All those sounds certainly get stuck in the teeth, so they can be pronounced again later. The fourth line ends the question that began in line one. Still, I wonder about the “last laugh.” Since “laugh” indicates a plural verb, then I wonder if the “last laugh” applies to both the house and body. So while line one established a metaphorical relationship around the comma (which means body and house are the same or as one) the verb tense in “laugh” actually makes them act as one.

What stanza one does, then, is to tell us why the title is “Listen.” We need to listen to the sounds and for an answer to the question. So, let’s continue listening.

Evel Knievel Snake River CanyonLine five is a good example of a line break behaving in the manner of its content. When you get to the end of line five, you are forced to leap over the ditch in your imagination. The line turn is the leap. I kinda feel like Evel Knievel over Snake River Canyon on this line turn, except this leap is successful. You can also hear the L sound that echoes to line four and that may be acting as a connecting sound between stanzas one, two, and three, especially since the L sound rhymes at the end of lines 6, 7, 8, and 9. In line five, the L sound has the feel of a discus or hammer thrower to me. It’s spinning in centripetal force from line to line and adding to the final acceleration of the poem. The S sounds in lines four and five provide a connective sound between the stanzas and lines, too, but it’s effect is bigger as its sound is almost in every line, and it is in every line except the last if you hear “th” as a type of S sound. The S sound is more like a drawstring that pulls the poem together tight.

Line six is the continuation of the actions of “answers” in line five. After it leaps, it must descend, and so it does in image and sound, a “low” sound. The early sounds in the line are higher in pitch than the “low” sound in “hollow,” so it really is a descent. And the low sound essentially continues in the next two lines, except for the two high-pithced long I sounds, and those low sounds feel of despair until the upbeat of “Angel.” Wait. Maybe there isn’t anything to despair after all. An angel is hope. It’s a good thing. Right? Nope. Oh, there’s a brief glimmer of hope on the line turn after “Angel,” but then it’s abruptly taken away with “Nothingness.” The “Angel of Nothingness.” Oh, despair can only be made more despairing when hope presents itself but fails or is taken away. (I wonder how much the capital “A” in “Angel” added to the hope. The capital “A” makes it a proper noun, a specific angel, and not just a generic angel. More hope can come with specificity. Plus, the capital “A” points to the sky like a mountain. Maybe we will rise from “a dusty hollow.”) So line five leaps, line six descends, line seven describes the hollow and offers hope at then end, and then line eight takes away that hope with a patient angel doing his nails, which I’ve discussed above.

In line nine, we hear the last of the L sound for four lines, but as we hear it, we also hear it and the Z sounds in “dazzles” rhyme with the L and Z sounds in line eight’s “nails.” The movement is connected by sound, but the images in the lines eight and nine are contrarian in their meanings. Line eight is patient and chill, and line nine is dazzling. Is that why the line ends there? to juxtapose at-easness with something that dazzles? And in the dazzle, the rhymes stop for a while, too. Also, the dominance of long vowels that were in the first two stanzas fades a bit. In this stanza, the consonants take dominance. It’s more of that tug and pull I mentioned above.

Line ten, like like six, continues the action of the previous line as we see where the dazzling occurs. Notice how slow this line moves, too. I imagine the earth breathes slow, too. Line eleven starts a new action – the grain beginning . . . something. The line has six trochees and ends on a stressed syllable. It’s the longest line in the poem with 13 syllables. It has five N sounds and ends with three G sounds. There are also two “in” sounds – “Often” and “begins” – But it looks like there are four with the repetition of “in” in “grain” and “again.” The “in” was set up in the previous line, so it has its echoes there, but it also recalls the two “in” sounds in line four. And it sets up the two “in” sounds in lines 12 and at the end of line 13. But back to line 10. Why is it so long? Rather, since it is the longest line, it draws attention to itself. It must be significant if it needs so many syllables to say something. I think it is because the tone of the poem is turning. In addition, I think this is where the metaphor we thought we had in line one becomes real. It turns out, in fact, that line one wasn’t performing as a metaphor. It was being literal. In other words, is it an empty house if there’s only one alone person in it? But we need that metaphor, so we can feel the aloneness and despair that accompanies an empty house. perhaps, the metaphor is literal and figurative. Perhaps, he is an empty house with only one alone person – himself –, and perhaps the house and himself weren’t empty when his wife lived with him, in him, and in the house. So line 11 is a volta, a turning. Something is rising instead of falling. Something is growing instead of dying. Line 12 answers affirms that something is growing. The grain simmers “Deep in the dark”, or the logic of the line tells us that. That is the image we get. But “Deep in the dark” will act in two different ways, and it achieves this because of a line break. The line break, now acting like the comma in line one, also creates another metaphor between seed in the dark and the wife’s hand “Deep in the dark.”

Line 13 connects to line 12, as described, by the hinging line break, but it also connects with the D sounds. “Deep,” “dark,” “find,” and “hand” are now connected. Line 13 also begins with four long I sounds in a row. It’s an elation. It’s the high-pitch of joy sound. “I find my wife’s.” The high joy and hastened pace in those first four words and syllables, lower and slow in the next four syllables. The pace drops off after the “d” in “hand.” It’s like there’s a slight caesura there. One might be tempted to put a line break after “hand.” It feels right, but then the change in emotion might be lost or not as strong. By not putting a line break after “hand,” the poem goes from elation to concentration in one line motion. It goes from happy to serious. The transition in emotion is seamless when on one line.

Line 14, like the second line in each of the previous stanzas, continues the action of the previous line. However, it doesn’t continue the action of what was in the preceding line (such as “the body alone,” “answers,” or “dazzles”), but it does continue the action of the scenery and mood of the previous line. Line 14 is also the longest line on the page, but not in syllables.  Lines 13 and 14 are also dominated by long vowels sounds – the long Is, the OO in “blue,” the long E in “tree,” the OW in “bow,” and the long O in “soul.” Long vowels tend to emote, and there’s a lot of emotion going on here. There’s also some tug and pull with the B, D, S, and T sounds, just like there was in the transition from joy to concentration in line 13.  I kind of want to hear the beginning of line 13 and the end of line 14 as the speaker being selfish or overly concerned with the himself. Line 13, as said above, begins with all those long I sounds, so how can you not hear the “I” of the poet especially when coupled with “I” and “my.” And then the end of line 14 also has “I” and “my.” But line 15 tells us that it’s not that he wants his soul, he wants his soul to tell him something about itself. He wants to listen. So this stanza is about listening. It’s about the title.

Line 16 is the shortest line on the page, but it has three syllables just like the last line. Those two lines speak to each other just as his soul speaks to him. Line 16 ends on a type of gasp or last wish that is kind of like “just tell me . . . anything.” But oddly, he doesn’t want to hear anything, he wants to hear “almost / anything.” There are some things he doesn’t want to hear. The worst of them would probably be to hear nothing, or the sound of an empty house, because then he would surely be alone.

Line 17 starts with “And” to recall the “hand” in line 13. Line 13 has one or two long vowels, depending on how your pronounce, but it’s dominated by  the T, S, and L sounds that we’ve heard so often before. Then after the line turn, in line 18, we return to the long vowels with the long A and long E. So not only to we have the tug and pull between long and short sounds in this line, there is also some tugging between line 18 and the three syllable “anything” in line 16.

GazeThis poem now as I hear it and think about it is about the tug and pull between life and the afterlife, between aloneness and the company of love, and it’s between listening to sounds and hearing nothing. It’s about patience. Patience like the Angle of Nothingness has in lines 7 and 8, and the patience of waiting for the soul and the afterlife to be with the loved one again.

Once again, I first saw this poem on Verse Daily, but it appeared earlier in Christopher Howell’s Gaze (Milkweed Editions, 2012). (I also post this poem without anyone’s permission, but I hope no one minds. If you do, let me know.)

For more about lineation and line breaks in general, please read “Lineation: An Introduction to the Poetic Line,” a fun, conversational, an in-depth look at line breaks. //

09
Jul
11

Behance.net and my cover and ad designs

I recently opened an account at Behance.net (http://www.behance.net/thelinebreak) to share some of my book and journal cover designs and ads and posters that I create. This site is for people who do such things plus typographers and other creative individuals.

Behance.net Logo

At the same time, I’ve been preparing Redactions: Poetry & Poetics issue 14 for publication, and I’ve made a few ads for the journal. At Behance.net, I posted those ads and wrote a little story about each one. I like this. I like being able to share this kind of information and talking about it. I wish I was better at it. I really want to and should take some nighttime graphic design courses somewhere. I’m self-taught, and I’ve gone as far as I can.

So if you want to learn more about some of cover designs and ad designs, stop by http://www.behance.net/thelinebreak every now and then.

Here’s a taste of my recent addition.

Pure Elysium Ad

As you recall, I also do layout and Design for Palettes & Quills Press. Their most recent  book is Michael Meyerhofer’s Pure Elysium (http://amzn.to/ooazVu). Since I’m also responsible for advertising and marketing, in part, I needed to make two ads. One for the tremendous website VerseDaily.com. (It’s like an online anthology of the best poems that appear in the most recent poetry journals and books.) The size restrictions for this are small – 0.5″ x 0.333″. At first I tried to make this ad at that size, but, man, that wasn’t working. So I made the ad at 5″ x 3.33″ and then shrunk it down. That worked fine.

Pure Elysium on Verse Daily
Then I had to make a bigger one, 4.5″ x 8″, for Redactions: Poetry & Poetics issue 14. What I like about this ad is that there is the perfect amount of space in the upper left-hand corner for the image of the book cover. It’s not really covering up anything. And you can still see the main action of the cover art. It was also a good way to get larger viewing of the cover, despite it being grayscale, though I like the effects.

The cover art by Peter Davis is titled “The People Make Love.”

Pure Elysium for RedactionsDon’t forget to visit: http://www.behance.net/thelinebreak.//

18
Jun
11

On Joanne Diaz’s The Lessons

A version of this may appear in an upcoming issue of Redactions: Poetry & Poetics.

What immediately turned me on to Joanne Diaz‘s The Lessons (Silverfish Review Press, 2011) was when I read the opening poem “Granada” on Verse Daily on June 3. I fell in love with the poem. I tweeted and made a Facebook post that read something like, “This #poem explodes at the end. What a terrific poem” Here it is:

   Granada 

   To be so far from oxtail stew, sardines
   in garlic sauce, blood oranges in pails
   along the avenida, midday heat
   wetting necks and wrists; to be so stuck
   in stone-thick ice and clouds and recall
   the pomegranate we shared, its hardened peel,
   the translucent membrane gently parting
   seed from luscious crimson seed, albedo
   soft beneath bald rind, acid juice
   running down our fingers, knuckles, palms,
   the mild chap of our lips from mist and flesh;
   so far away from that, and still
   the tangy thought of pomegranates
   crowning coats-of-arms and fortress gates
   like beating hearts prepared to detonate
   their countless seeds across Granada,
   ancient town of strangled rivers
   and nameless bones in every desert hill...
   In Spain, said Lorca, the dead are more alive
   than any other place on earth. Imagine, then,
   the excavation of his unmarked grave
   like the quick pull on a grenade's pin,
   and the sound that secrets make
   as they return from that other world
   of teeth and blood and fire.

Joanne Diaz – The LessonsThe poems in The Lessons are juicy. I love the way the poems feel in my mouth. I enjoy all the details in the poems. Who says you can’t write poems with details anymore? Well, you can, and Diaz shows us how.

But there’s more than detail to these poems. There is wonderful leaping and yoking together of different images and events. For instance, the poem “Violin” is a poem about the life of a violin from when it was both “horse and tree” to the sounds it makes and how it “almost pulls itself / apart, longing for what it was”. The poem does this for nine unrhymed couplets. The poem could end after the ninth couplet, and it would be a fine poem, but then there’s the leap the poem makes from the ninth couplet to the tenth. The leap does what good poems often do – it uses the particular to illuminate something in humanity. Here are the last two couplets to show what you I mean:

   [. . . ] A violin almost pulls itself
   apart, longing for what it was, not unlike

   my father as he stood by the open mailbox
   reading my brother's first letter home.

And there’s a whole other story in that last couplet. Where is his son? At war? In the Peace Corps? Working abroad as a doctor in some small underprivileged village somewhere? And then the mind after the poem is done is trying to build more of a story into that last couplet. But the important thing is the violin and father relationship. The yoking of the two. The use of the violin to understand the father. The violin helps us understand what it’s like for the father to get that first letter. And this feeling is communicated well and well before it’s understood.

There’s something else going on in that leap, too. The poem leaps from being lyrical to being narrative. (By narrative I mean a poem that moves through time and that has causality. By lyrical I mean a poem that exists without time or is a vertical moment in time or is a deliberate focus on an item or a thing. W. C. Williams and George Oppen are often lyrical.)

This jump from lyrical to narrative in a poem happens a number of times in The Lessons. For instance, “Love Poem”:

   Love Poem

   I was the warmth that lifted
   from your pilled sheets, the glow
   of Sebastian in the picture book
   of saints, the moon gliding
   through the window beside your bed.

   I was the clock in your kitchen
   waiting to catch you in my gears.
   In the TV, I was the blue tube
   that saw your sadness run as silt
   down a mountain. I was the rush
   in the vein of every oak leaf
   that crowded your window.

   I was the drift of you before your edges
   twisted into a man. The swing
   of your loose pant cuff. The joint
   in the threshold; the rusted cart
   behind the house. You sensed

   a visitor, but how can I say
   that I was the one who curled
   the wallpaper and held the model
   airplane in its place? That it was I
   late at night, running in the current
   of your clock radio, searching
   the seashell of your ear?

In this poem, you see all these vertical moments in time – “I was . . .” . In the the last stanza, we get a bit of narrative:

   [. . .] That it was I
   late at night, running in the current
   of your clock radio, searching
   the seashell of your ear?

The leaps are my favorite occasions in The Lessons. I’m not sure if I’ve encountered that type of leaping before or at least noticed it before, but this time I did. I really enjoy its effects.

The Lessons is Joanne Diaz’s first book. It won the 2009 Gerald Cable Book Award. As a I said, The Lessons is juicy with details – like a good Spanish Tempranillo. It’s juicy in every lyric, narrative, and lyric-leaping-to-narrative poem. In fact, this would be a good book to use in a creative writing poetry workshop, you know, to show and teach students how to use details and how effective details are in creating emotions and engagement and in stimulating the imagination.

Often during The Lessons I feel like Ms. Griffin in Diaz’s poem “The Griffin.” When Ms. Griffin reads George Herbert’s poem “The Collar,” “she nearly left the prison of her body.” I don’t think I left the prison of my body, but I certainly forgot it existed. And that’s a lesson – good poetry is a momentary stay against confusion, and there are many momentary stays in Joanne Diaz’s first collection of poems, The Lessons.

.

.

.

NB

I wish to thank Silverfish Review Press for providing such a detailed and narrative filled colophon about the Jenson typeface. I wish more publishers would do this.//

11
May
11

My June 14th Poetry Reading with Adam A. Wilcox

Happy 30th Anniversary, Writers & Books!!!

Put together a poet/foodie and a poet/oenophile, and what do you get?
A banquet of tastes, textures, and sensory delights for the literary palate.

The Genesee Reading Series, with impresario Wanda Schubmehl, continues to celebrate the 30th Anniversary of Writers & Books with a program featuring Tom Holmes and Adam A. Wilcox.

Tom HolmesTom Holmes (that’s me) is the editor of Redactions: Poetry & Poetics. He is also author of After Malagueña (FootHills Publishing, 2005), Negative Time (Pudding House Publications, 2007), Pre-Dew Poems (FootHills Publishing, 2008), Henri, Sophie, & the Hieratic Head of Ezra Pound: Poems Blasted from the Vortex (BlazeVOX Books, 2009), The Oldest Stone in the World (Amsterdam Press, 2011), and Poetry Assignments: The Book (Sage Hill Press, forthcoming). He has been nominated three times for the Pushcart Prize. His work has appeared on Verse Daily and has also appeared in Blue Earth Review, Chiron Review, Crab Creek Review, The Delmarva Review, The G. W. Review, Mississippi Review, Mid-American Review, New Delta Review, New Zoo Poetry Review, Orange Coast Review, Rockhurst Review, San Pedro River Review, Santa Clara Review, South Carolina Review, Sugar House Review, Swarthmore Review, and many other journals that don’t have “Review” in their name. His current poetry book reviews and writing about wine and poetry can be found at his blog, The Line Break: https://thelinebreak.wordpress.com/, which is right here!

Adam A. WilcoxAdam A. Wilcox is President and founder of Writ Wilcox, an information design company. Before that, he was a radio producer, curriculum developer, manager of technical documentation, and instructional designer for e-learning, and also ran an entrepreneurial custom-courseware business.

His poetry has appeared in Poetry, The Colorado Review, Cairn, and Folio, among other journals. For eight years, he wrote the “Gut Instincts” food column for Rochester City Newspaper, and currently writes for and edits RochesterFoodNet.com.

He also plays bass for The Dan Eaton Band and leads the Saturday Service Band at First Unitarian Church of Rochester. He lives in Rochester, NY, with his choreographer wife, Anne Harris Wilcox, their three home-schooled children, and their Bernese mountain dog.

The Genesee Reading Series will be held at Writers & Books, located at 740 University Avenue, Rochester, NY 14607, on Tuesday, June 14, 2011, at 7:30 pm. Admission is $3 for members and $6 for the general public.

Download the PDF flier for more information: Holmes Wilcox Genesee Reading Series 6-14-11.

Mark it on you Facebook calendar here: http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=172684909454121.//

18
May
10

Jonathan Johnson on Verse Daily Today

Jonathan JohnsonWhen your old professor – who you are two days older than, which in kid’s playground  logic means you can beat him up – appears on Verse Daily, you let everyone know.

This Tuesday, May 17, 2010, Jonathan Johnson is the featured poet on Verse Daily.

You can read his poem, “She of Tioga Creek,” here.

The poem is from his recently released collection of poems, In the Land We Imagined Ourselves (Carnegie Mellon U P).

Read it or else I’ll beat you up.//




The Cave (Winner of The Bitter Oleander Press Library of Poetry Book Award for 2013.)

The Cave

Poems for an Empty Church

Poems for an Empty Church

The Oldest Stone in the World

The Oldest Stone in the Wolrd

Henri, Sophie, & The Hieratic Head of Ezra Pound: Poems Blasted from the Vortex

Henri, Sophie, & The Hieratic Head of Ezra Pound: Poems Blasted from the Vortex

Pre-Dew Poems

Pre-Dew Poems

Negative Time

Negative Time

After Malagueña

After Malagueña

Enter your email address to subscribe to The Line Break and receive email notifications of new posts.

Join 2,813 other followers

September 2017
M T W T F S S
« Jul    
 123
45678910
11121314151617
18192021222324
252627282930  

Archives

The Line Break Tweets


%d bloggers like this: