I first became interested in Michael Robbins' poetry because he reminded me of a word game I used to play with a couple of friends, which essentially involved rhyming celebrities' names. You had to present it as a Sophie's Choice type scenario, eg.
Louise Mensch or Dame Judy Dench?
If you backed yourself into a corner by picking a celebrity whose name didn't have many rhymes, you could either pick another celebrity with the same first name...
Judy Dench or Judy Garland?
...
or choose any unrelated thing as a rhyme...
Louise Mensch or a Victorian wench?
Robbins often gives the impression of having picked his rhymes via a similar process, except that he also has a penchant for pop lyrics and film quotes. Couplets like, 'My lume is spento, there’s a creep in my cellar/ You can stand under my umbrella, Ella' make him easy to warm to, but are also apt to set off a lengthy chain of thought, because we're not used to sound assuming this degree of importance. Robbins says of rhyme, 'I find it interesting that rhyme is something that is less valued now in contemporary poetry and is viewed as unsophisticated or retro or just old-fashioned'. I have to admit to thinking rhyme can come off as all those things - but Robbins is adept at sidestepping every reason contemporary poets have for discarding rhyme. For instance, rhyme can make the craft behind the poem visible; all the agonizing that goes into finding that elusive half rhyme that's also semantically perfect. Robbins doesn't agonize here - of course he chooses words because they rhyme. He's the New Yorker's very own Des'ree. There's something thrilling about a poet so shamelessly treating rhyme as a game.
'I live by the alien logic we impose on children.
Whoever smelt it dealt it.'
But there's more hand-wringing to come, (I may have over-thought my enjoyment of this book a little). I couldn't understand why I enjoyed Robbins game playing when I usually find poems generated by games problematic. I find that they are necessarily a demonstration of cleverness, and I find cleverness distasteful in poems. I refer back to the word game I explained at the start; obviously, it's competitive, you're supposed to think up something funnier and more absurd than your adversary. Great if you're hiding cans of Strongbow under your coats on the tube, but not always the tone you're aiming for in a poem. Robbins pulls off clever because it is the right tone for his poems - it's part of his snark. Alien vs Predator is mercilessly bitchy in tone.
'Vita brevis, brother. If you die first,
keep your sniveling relations far hence.
You got village girls pregnant with a glance.
Heck, you almost got me pregnant once.'
The voice in Robbins' poems issues put-downs, such as that quoted above. It also boasts, ('I make love to an ATM. I enrich uranium'), gossips, ('Your tribe's Doritos are infested with a stegosaur'), makes threats, ('I'd eat your bra - point being - in a heartbeat'), and complaints, ('Am I supposed to be impressed? My smoothie comes with GPS'). Importantly, it's never at ease, which I suspect is what makes it stand out against the placid voices that seep through poetry journals, seeming to blur the ink.
Ultimately, the reason I'll continue to read these poems is that I'm interested in eavesdropping on this person's conversation, not the virtuoso rhymes. Which is not to say that those are unimportant; they give Robbins' utterances a sort of cadence, a sense of coming home. Except that in this case, the completeness brought about by a rhyme infers snark rather than easy resolution. I suspect that this book will lead many poets to re-embrace rhyme, but few will find as idiosyncratic a use for it as Robbins.
(FYI: I bought this book on my Kindle about a month ago. It has subsequently disappeared from the UK Kindle store - I didn't notice this until I finished writing my review and went searching for the link. I don't usually review books that aren't available as eBooks - this blog is supposed to be a resource for ereader owners. However, I've decided to break my own rule, because I've spent a lot of time writing this, and now I'm annoyed.)
Buy my book, 'Anatomically Incorrect Sketches Of Marine Animals'
Tuesday, 1 May 2012
Tuesday, 20 March 2012
'I don't want to make a book': what can digital self-publishers learn from a zine fair?
I went to a book fair on Saturday; it was somewhat terrifying. There's the indie publisher, smiling behind his desk, and you're inspecting his written output, only inches away, trying to stop your face from expressing your opinion... a fellow customer points out another book, 'I think this one's the best'. I don't like this publisher's books. I am beset with guilt. I look forward to being back at my computer, where I can make book-buying decisions independent of social pressures, and without being barged into.
Even though I can't get on with the zine/handmade book community, isn't it a horribly true cliche that we all have something to learn from one another? I had come to the ICA for a talk called, 'I Don't Want To Make A Book'; an argument for the practice of book-making as functional rather than fetishistic, organised by some people called Publish And Be Damned. I have to admit that I'm still not convinced; when a question came from the floor about the importance of producing something tangible, the word 'luxury' came up a lot. But it was exciting to hear self-publishing talked about in such positive terms, and it was the speakers' thoughts on the traditions of self-publishing, and how it could potentially be made better, that I took away from the event.
Nick Thurston from Information As Material spoke initially of his experience of curating an exhibition of self published books, mentioning various well-known writers who self-published: Ezra Pound, Virginia Wolf, and so on. The exhibition of art zines also taking place at the ICA offers a wider selection of role-models for prospective self-publishers. As someone who's self-published an ebook, I do view myself more as a misfit solo zine producer than an aspiring member of the Kindle million club; I just happen to be attracted to the idea of my writing never existing in a tangible form. So I enjoyed Nick's comments about digital self publishing deserving its own historical context.
Lynn Harris from AND publishing spoke about running a self-publishing platform for students at St Martins university. Since the platform makes use of services such as Lulu, you might wonder what AND could offer artists that they couldn't access themselves independently. The answer is partly distribution; book fairs and online shops are more feasible for a community of self-publishers than one person acting alone. AND also offer advice and workshops; I've often thought that self-publishing needs to acquire an informal editing mechanism of this sort. Although AND is clearly shaped by the fact it is based inside a university, I thought that the idea of self-publishers forming communities for their mutual advantage was a good one - and very relevant to digital self-publishers.
I'd argue that where such communities do exist, they tend to focus purely on publicizing books which have already been written, rather than developing a text. The conversation kept coming back to social discourse, which Nick argued was, 'more efficient' than working on one's own, although it, 'needs to contain genuine criticism'. I'm finding that, in response to an explosion in self-publishing, a lot of commentators are espousing the benefits of collaboration, and this was certainly a trend during this talk.
I have to admit that I thought the emphasis on community went a little too far at times; someone referred to, 'the libertarian potential of desktop publishing'. Are writers who prefer to work alone libertarians? I mean, I have an enormous sense of social responsibility, I'm just very private and guarded when it comes to my writing, and I know I'm not the only one. Let's not make introversion a dirty word.
I should add that the conversation ranged much more widely than the points I've mentioned; I've picked out the parts of the discussion I felt were relevant to the topics I cover on Poetry After Ink. Overall, it was a thought-provoking, if mentally exhausting afternoon, and I'll remember Lynn's quotes about, 'piggybacking on existing services, but trying to make them better'.
Even though I can't get on with the zine/handmade book community, isn't it a horribly true cliche that we all have something to learn from one another? I had come to the ICA for a talk called, 'I Don't Want To Make A Book'; an argument for the practice of book-making as functional rather than fetishistic, organised by some people called Publish And Be Damned. I have to admit that I'm still not convinced; when a question came from the floor about the importance of producing something tangible, the word 'luxury' came up a lot. But it was exciting to hear self-publishing talked about in such positive terms, and it was the speakers' thoughts on the traditions of self-publishing, and how it could potentially be made better, that I took away from the event.
Nick Thurston from Information As Material spoke initially of his experience of curating an exhibition of self published books, mentioning various well-known writers who self-published: Ezra Pound, Virginia Wolf, and so on. The exhibition of art zines also taking place at the ICA offers a wider selection of role-models for prospective self-publishers. As someone who's self-published an ebook, I do view myself more as a misfit solo zine producer than an aspiring member of the Kindle million club; I just happen to be attracted to the idea of my writing never existing in a tangible form. So I enjoyed Nick's comments about digital self publishing deserving its own historical context.
Lynn Harris from AND publishing spoke about running a self-publishing platform for students at St Martins university. Since the platform makes use of services such as Lulu, you might wonder what AND could offer artists that they couldn't access themselves independently. The answer is partly distribution; book fairs and online shops are more feasible for a community of self-publishers than one person acting alone. AND also offer advice and workshops; I've often thought that self-publishing needs to acquire an informal editing mechanism of this sort. Although AND is clearly shaped by the fact it is based inside a university, I thought that the idea of self-publishers forming communities for their mutual advantage was a good one - and very relevant to digital self-publishers.
I'd argue that where such communities do exist, they tend to focus purely on publicizing books which have already been written, rather than developing a text. The conversation kept coming back to social discourse, which Nick argued was, 'more efficient' than working on one's own, although it, 'needs to contain genuine criticism'. I'm finding that, in response to an explosion in self-publishing, a lot of commentators are espousing the benefits of collaboration, and this was certainly a trend during this talk.
I have to admit that I thought the emphasis on community went a little too far at times; someone referred to, 'the libertarian potential of desktop publishing'. Are writers who prefer to work alone libertarians? I mean, I have an enormous sense of social responsibility, I'm just very private and guarded when it comes to my writing, and I know I'm not the only one. Let's not make introversion a dirty word.
I should add that the conversation ranged much more widely than the points I've mentioned; I've picked out the parts of the discussion I felt were relevant to the topics I cover on Poetry After Ink. Overall, it was a thought-provoking, if mentally exhausting afternoon, and I'll remember Lynn's quotes about, 'piggybacking on existing services, but trying to make them better'.
Wednesday, 14 March 2012
On negative online book reviews
Between the self-published authors on the KDP forum, complaining that the negative reviews their books have received constitute defamation of character, and the supposedly impotent traditional book critics, it seems everyone is worried about the effects of turning every consumer into a reviewer. Aside from me: I love consumer reviews of books, especially negative reviews, and especially when they're completely bizarre. As a friend of mine put it, 'they're the only thing you read to discover if something's worth buying. They're all anyone reads, surely?'
Serious research backs up my informal inquiries: we all read the negative reviews first, and they have a disproportionate effect on how likely a book is to be bought. In their study, The Effect of Word of Mouth on Sales: Online Book Reviews, Chevalier and Mayzlin found that, 'relatively rare one-star reviews carry a lot of weight with consumers'. They attribute this both to the rarity of negative reviews, (most people who bother to review books are fans who want to express their enthusiasm), and our cynicism; we suspect that positive reviews may have been solicited by the author.
That cynicism is not misplaced; the self publishing community is essentially made up of writers feigning enthusiasm for each others' books in the hope those people will feign enthusiasm for their book. But I believe there's another reason we head straight for the 1* reviews - positive reviews are almost always incredibly boring. Shopping on the internet isn't just a matter of making sensible decisions, it's a form of entertainment too, and all the human entertainment lies in the illogical, typo-packed tirades.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Chevalier and Mayzlin found that 1* reviews caused a book's sales to fall. But is it really that simple? Surely we've all read negative reviews that have persuaded us to buy the book and form our own opinions? We may believe that negative reviews are most likely to be their author's honest opinion, but that doesn't mean we absorb them passively. A negative review tells me a story about the preferences and prejudices of the person who wrote it, and as I read it, I position myself either behind them or against them - even though I've yet to read a single page of the book in question.
It's unlikely anyone will ever conduct a qualitative study of negative reviews and their effects - it would be much too complicated. In the meantime, I thought I'd describe some of the types of negative review that send my cursor towards the 'buy' button. (I've left out 'spelling and grammar errors' and 'bigotry' for being too obvious).
Disliking characters' attributes as a reason for disliking a book.
Books allow you to get close to characters with unpleasant traits, and learn something about them, without actually physically getting close to them. Characters can be obnoxious, thoughtless and annoying - that's fine, no one's asking you to go to the pub with them and buy them a pint. Yet apparently this is news to some readers...
"If Mr Haines intended to portray himself as a small minded, mean spirited, faux-intellectual tosser then I've got to hand it to him: he succeeded"
The above is an Amazon review of Bad Vibes by Luke Haines, an account of his years of fronting under-appreciated, (in his biased opinion), indie band The Auteurs. The best thing about the book is the way Haines presents situations as they seemed to him at the time, without much retrospective analysis. Yes, it does make him seem like a mean spirited, faux-intellectual tosser in places, but I personally found that refreshing.
As a rule of thumb, I find that if characters are able to inspire revulsion in some readers, they're probably well written, and the book is almost certainly worth reading. (Bad Vibes is an autobiography, but since autobiography involves creating yourself as a character, I believe the same applies).
Excuse me, where is my happy ending?
"After trolling through 660 pages I am no nearer finding the culprit"
"doesn't really reveal the killer"
The above are quotes from reviews of Douglas Preston's 'The Monster Of Florence'; not a detective story, but an investigation into how the Italian justice system failed to find the serial killer who murdered at least eight couples in the countryside surrounding Florence. Preston does give his assessment of the evidence available, but this isn't as important as his account of how the people responsible for finding the killer head wildly off course. There isn't a neat ending, because real life doesn't provide one, as is its wont. I enjoy books with messy endings, so when a reviewer criticises a book for not ending neatly, I often feel tempted to buy it.
When a novel is not a novel
"If it were a different sort of product I would have asked for my money back as it really didn't feel that the goods fit the description - I couldn't see how this added up to a novel."
The above reviewer of Tea Obreht's 'The Tiger's Wife' took issue with the book's interwoven plot strands, (which I personally loved). They could have explained why they felt Obreht hadn't managed the device well, or why they personally found such a narrative structure off-putting. But instead, they claimed that the use of a by now fairly well established method of structuring a story invalidated the book's claim to being a novel. I suppose there's something a little bit vain in being persuaded to buy a book by such a review; we all want to show we're more open minded, that we enjoy unconventional books. So, I considered that, and then I bought it.
Rubbernecking
"EXTREAMLY PAINFUL TO WATCH AWFUL ... JUST. AWFUL ... TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT"
A friend of mine bought a film called Sharp Teeth based on the above endorsement; apparently it was terrible. But maybe he wanted it to be terrible; sometimes you just want to watch a really schlock-y film, sometimes you want to read a trashy book. My point is, you can't predict how people will react to negative reviews, especially since the internet has made it so easy to shop drunk.
Serious research backs up my informal inquiries: we all read the negative reviews first, and they have a disproportionate effect on how likely a book is to be bought. In their study, The Effect of Word of Mouth on Sales: Online Book Reviews, Chevalier and Mayzlin found that, 'relatively rare one-star reviews carry a lot of weight with consumers'. They attribute this both to the rarity of negative reviews, (most people who bother to review books are fans who want to express their enthusiasm), and our cynicism; we suspect that positive reviews may have been solicited by the author.
That cynicism is not misplaced; the self publishing community is essentially made up of writers feigning enthusiasm for each others' books in the hope those people will feign enthusiasm for their book. But I believe there's another reason we head straight for the 1* reviews - positive reviews are almost always incredibly boring. Shopping on the internet isn't just a matter of making sensible decisions, it's a form of entertainment too, and all the human entertainment lies in the illogical, typo-packed tirades.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Chevalier and Mayzlin found that 1* reviews caused a book's sales to fall. But is it really that simple? Surely we've all read negative reviews that have persuaded us to buy the book and form our own opinions? We may believe that negative reviews are most likely to be their author's honest opinion, but that doesn't mean we absorb them passively. A negative review tells me a story about the preferences and prejudices of the person who wrote it, and as I read it, I position myself either behind them or against them - even though I've yet to read a single page of the book in question.
It's unlikely anyone will ever conduct a qualitative study of negative reviews and their effects - it would be much too complicated. In the meantime, I thought I'd describe some of the types of negative review that send my cursor towards the 'buy' button. (I've left out 'spelling and grammar errors' and 'bigotry' for being too obvious).
Disliking characters' attributes as a reason for disliking a book.
Books allow you to get close to characters with unpleasant traits, and learn something about them, without actually physically getting close to them. Characters can be obnoxious, thoughtless and annoying - that's fine, no one's asking you to go to the pub with them and buy them a pint. Yet apparently this is news to some readers...
"If Mr Haines intended to portray himself as a small minded, mean spirited, faux-intellectual tosser then I've got to hand it to him: he succeeded"
The above is an Amazon review of Bad Vibes by Luke Haines, an account of his years of fronting under-appreciated, (in his biased opinion), indie band The Auteurs. The best thing about the book is the way Haines presents situations as they seemed to him at the time, without much retrospective analysis. Yes, it does make him seem like a mean spirited, faux-intellectual tosser in places, but I personally found that refreshing.
As a rule of thumb, I find that if characters are able to inspire revulsion in some readers, they're probably well written, and the book is almost certainly worth reading. (Bad Vibes is an autobiography, but since autobiography involves creating yourself as a character, I believe the same applies).
Excuse me, where is my happy ending?
"After trolling through 660 pages I am no nearer finding the culprit"
"doesn't really reveal the killer"
The above are quotes from reviews of Douglas Preston's 'The Monster Of Florence'; not a detective story, but an investigation into how the Italian justice system failed to find the serial killer who murdered at least eight couples in the countryside surrounding Florence. Preston does give his assessment of the evidence available, but this isn't as important as his account of how the people responsible for finding the killer head wildly off course. There isn't a neat ending, because real life doesn't provide one, as is its wont. I enjoy books with messy endings, so when a reviewer criticises a book for not ending neatly, I often feel tempted to buy it.
When a novel is not a novel
"If it were a different sort of product I would have asked for my money back as it really didn't feel that the goods fit the description - I couldn't see how this added up to a novel."
The above reviewer of Tea Obreht's 'The Tiger's Wife' took issue with the book's interwoven plot strands, (which I personally loved). They could have explained why they felt Obreht hadn't managed the device well, or why they personally found such a narrative structure off-putting. But instead, they claimed that the use of a by now fairly well established method of structuring a story invalidated the book's claim to being a novel. I suppose there's something a little bit vain in being persuaded to buy a book by such a review; we all want to show we're more open minded, that we enjoy unconventional books. So, I considered that, and then I bought it.
Rubbernecking
"EXTREAMLY PAINFUL TO WATCH AWFUL ... JUST. AWFUL ... TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT TUT"
A friend of mine bought a film called Sharp Teeth based on the above endorsement; apparently it was terrible. But maybe he wanted it to be terrible; sometimes you just want to watch a really schlock-y film, sometimes you want to read a trashy book. My point is, you can't predict how people will react to negative reviews, especially since the internet has made it so easy to shop drunk.
Monday, 12 March 2012
A list of poetry publishers and lit mags who publish Kindle ebooks
Having whinged at length about the difficulties of finding poetry I actually want to read in the Kindle store, I thought I'd do something to make life slightly easier for other Kindle owning poetry types. This post will be a resource listing all of the interesting poetry publishers and literary magazines who currently publish to kindle, with some brief information, and a link to the books they currently have available. Hopefully, it will save you from having to wade through the dubious editions of dead poets' work that clog up the top of the Kindle poetry chart. If you mainly read poetry and haven't bought a Kindle yet, this should also help you decide whether the current poetry selection makes it worthwhile.
I plan to update this regularly - if you wish to suggest a publisher or literary magazine that I ought to list, please comment.
Publishers
Best American Poetry
Obvious, but worth bearing in mind. Having difficulty choosing a new book? Why not read every edition of this popular anthology series published since 1995?
Bloodaxe
The UK's best known dedicated poetry publisher has made a few bestsellers and prize winners available as ebooks; I hope they add to the selection soon. If anyone happens to be listening, I'd really like to download Confer by Ahren Warner. Cheers.
Blazevox
US indie with an incredible selection of 77p books. I'm struggling to know where to start, but should be reviewing some highlights soon.
Cape
Leontia Flynn, John Burnside etc
Carcanet
Now over fifty books to choose from, including many recent titles such as their New Poetries V anthology, (which The Guardian compared favorably to a confit of duck leg). Carcanet seem enthusiastic about ebooks, so this selection will probably expand.
Coach House Books
I've loved all the books I've bought from this consistently innovative US indie, especially Hagiography by Jen Currin.
Faber
If you've just bought a Kindle, Memorial by Alice Oswald would make a great first purchase.
Floating Wolf Quarterly
Digital only chapbook publisher who can be relied upon to provide quality poetic entertainment when you've only got a couple of pounds left in your bank account.
Futurecycle
Purveyor of interesting anthologies. (I've never read their other books).
Linebreak
An anthology of poems featured on their website.
Knopf
Great for anthologies of well-known poets; I'm currently reading the Selected Poems of Amy Clampitt.
Salt
Although I'm disappointed that they've not uploaded more titles, Simon Barraclough and Sophie Nicholls' books are both worth picking up.
Seren
Welsh indie Seren have uploaded a couple of recent releases - I can't find any information on whether they plan to add more.
Yale Series Of Younger Poets
Pamphlets from winners of the prestigious Yale Younger Poets prize.
Literary magazines that feature poetry
Granta
Kenyon Review
London Review Of Books
New Ohio Review
PEN America
Ploughshares
The Literary Review
theNewerYork
Admittedly, the list of poetry publishers who don't publish to Kindle is still much longer, but there's a lot more choice than there was when I bought my Kindle a year ago.
I plan to update this regularly - if you wish to suggest a publisher or literary magazine that I ought to list, please comment.
Publishers
Best American Poetry
Obvious, but worth bearing in mind. Having difficulty choosing a new book? Why not read every edition of this popular anthology series published since 1995?
Bloodaxe
The UK's best known dedicated poetry publisher has made a few bestsellers and prize winners available as ebooks; I hope they add to the selection soon. If anyone happens to be listening, I'd really like to download Confer by Ahren Warner. Cheers.
Blazevox
US indie with an incredible selection of 77p books. I'm struggling to know where to start, but should be reviewing some highlights soon.
Cape
Leontia Flynn, John Burnside etc
Carcanet
Now over fifty books to choose from, including many recent titles such as their New Poetries V anthology, (which The Guardian compared favorably to a confit of duck leg). Carcanet seem enthusiastic about ebooks, so this selection will probably expand.
Coach House Books
I've loved all the books I've bought from this consistently innovative US indie, especially Hagiography by Jen Currin.
Faber
If you've just bought a Kindle, Memorial by Alice Oswald would make a great first purchase.
Floating Wolf Quarterly
Digital only chapbook publisher who can be relied upon to provide quality poetic entertainment when you've only got a couple of pounds left in your bank account.
Futurecycle
Purveyor of interesting anthologies. (I've never read their other books).
Linebreak
An anthology of poems featured on their website.
Knopf
Great for anthologies of well-known poets; I'm currently reading the Selected Poems of Amy Clampitt.
Salt
Although I'm disappointed that they've not uploaded more titles, Simon Barraclough and Sophie Nicholls' books are both worth picking up.
Seren
Welsh indie Seren have uploaded a couple of recent releases - I can't find any information on whether they plan to add more.
Yale Series Of Younger Poets
Pamphlets from winners of the prestigious Yale Younger Poets prize.
Literary magazines that feature poetry
Granta
Kenyon Review
London Review Of Books
New Ohio Review
PEN America
Ploughshares
The Literary Review
theNewerYork
Admittedly, the list of poetry publishers who don't publish to Kindle is still much longer, but there's a lot more choice than there was when I bought my Kindle a year ago.
Thursday, 23 February 2012
Review: Fuselit's 'Contraption' issue
There's nothing I like better than publishers who offer me lots of ways to consume their work, and with their latest issue, Fuselit have excelled at options. They've catered to those who enjoy elaborately constructed print journals...
(image of print journal belongs to fuselit)
... as well as carefully formatting ePub and .mobi (kindle) ebooks, and creating a stunning 'online broadsheet'. Naturally, I downloaded the .mobi ebook, and for the most part, found its contents equally inspiring.
The issue is loosely based around the theme 'Contraption', with responses to this idea going far beyond the sci-fi creations that immediately sprung into my mind... Apparently, some poets are able to respond imaginatively to prompts rather than being immediately struck down by stress headaches; I envy them. These were my highlights...
The poetry sections begins on a high with Christian Ward's 'Filming The Beheading of Daniel Pearl'. This reads like an especially bitchy private journal - brilliant. There's nothing that grabs my attention in a poem more than a beautifully delivered insult; 'Maryland is no Pakistan/ but between the minaret-necked/ cormorants and hillbilly locals/ I can't tell the difference.' The offhand remarks punctuate the narrative pleasingly, whilst the escalating filming costs give a sense of structure.
Tony Williams' 'Clicks' is a very short story in which a boy maps out his life in the clicks of a trundlewheel. As a fragmentary portrait of a person and a place it is perfect; the story begins and ends on exactly the right note.
Dan Simpson's 'A Rube Goldberg Poem' is a poetic depiction of that cartoonist's habit of drawing contraptions performing simple tasks by absurdly complicated means. The poem moves from an over-embellished, self consciously poetic description of a woman's hair, to the simple statement, 'Your hair looks nice today'. That the concept of the poem is perhaps a little arch and knowingly clever, only reinforces its point.
Niall O'Sullivan's 'A dicta-phone tape found within an old hotel bed frame' requires a bit of work to unravel. It slips between two recordings; the subject's professional, public voice, recorded intentionally, and a less professional, unintentionally recorded voice, (I'll leave you the surprise). The second is written right to left, meaning you'll need to decode it. I enjoyed this puzzle; there's nothing quite like struggling over a word before the sudden realisation that, oh, that's 'anus' written backwards.
Whilst there are a few poems that don't quite have the focus of those above, or just come off a little inconsequential, I would definitely recommend the magazine overall, especially since the digital editions are being sold on a pay-what-you-like basis. There are plenty of highlights other than those described above, as well as a selection of visual things, a short game and some bits of audio to investigate.
Read and buy Fuselit's 'Contraption' issue
(image of print journal belongs to fuselit)
... as well as carefully formatting ePub and .mobi (kindle) ebooks, and creating a stunning 'online broadsheet'. Naturally, I downloaded the .mobi ebook, and for the most part, found its contents equally inspiring.
The issue is loosely based around the theme 'Contraption', with responses to this idea going far beyond the sci-fi creations that immediately sprung into my mind... Apparently, some poets are able to respond imaginatively to prompts rather than being immediately struck down by stress headaches; I envy them. These were my highlights...
The poetry sections begins on a high with Christian Ward's 'Filming The Beheading of Daniel Pearl'. This reads like an especially bitchy private journal - brilliant. There's nothing that grabs my attention in a poem more than a beautifully delivered insult; 'Maryland is no Pakistan/ but between the minaret-necked/ cormorants and hillbilly locals/ I can't tell the difference.' The offhand remarks punctuate the narrative pleasingly, whilst the escalating filming costs give a sense of structure.
Tony Williams' 'Clicks' is a very short story in which a boy maps out his life in the clicks of a trundlewheel. As a fragmentary portrait of a person and a place it is perfect; the story begins and ends on exactly the right note.
Dan Simpson's 'A Rube Goldberg Poem' is a poetic depiction of that cartoonist's habit of drawing contraptions performing simple tasks by absurdly complicated means. The poem moves from an over-embellished, self consciously poetic description of a woman's hair, to the simple statement, 'Your hair looks nice today'. That the concept of the poem is perhaps a little arch and knowingly clever, only reinforces its point.
Niall O'Sullivan's 'A dicta-phone tape found within an old hotel bed frame' requires a bit of work to unravel. It slips between two recordings; the subject's professional, public voice, recorded intentionally, and a less professional, unintentionally recorded voice, (I'll leave you the surprise). The second is written right to left, meaning you'll need to decode it. I enjoyed this puzzle; there's nothing quite like struggling over a word before the sudden realisation that, oh, that's 'anus' written backwards.
Whilst there are a few poems that don't quite have the focus of those above, or just come off a little inconsequential, I would definitely recommend the magazine overall, especially since the digital editions are being sold on a pay-what-you-like basis. There are plenty of highlights other than those described above, as well as a selection of visual things, a short game and some bits of audio to investigate.
Read and buy Fuselit's 'Contraption' issue
Thursday, 16 February 2012
Coach House Books embrace the physical book + ebook model
Here's a happy coincidence: just a week after I wrote about why publishers should embrace bundling, and sell ebooks and physical books together as a package, US indie Coach House Books announced they would 'offer free digital downloads with the purchase of any print edition'. It's great to see a company with such a strong history of creating beautiful print books making such a bold decision; I really hope it pays off for them.
Currently, the offer only includes ePub and PDF, and so isn't much use to Kindle users. This seems a little silly; their books are in the Kindle store, so presumably they have the .mobi files? I hope this is something they'll look at soon. Obviously, the deal only covers books that have already been converted to digital formats, but there's already an enticing selection to browse. Of the few ebooks I've bought so far, my recommendation is Hagiography by Jen Currin.
I bought this book because the blurb described it as surreal, but also, 'moving into new and more personal territory', and I wanted to see how Currin would bring these sometimes contradictory elements together. I believe it is possible to use the surreal to express personal experiences that plain speech won't quite cover, but there's a fine between that and cowardice. By which I mean, surrealism can be a convenient mode to slip into when you want to write about a situation but don't feel like disclosing the details.
I loved this book: it really felt like the surreal style was taking me closer to the ideas the author wanted to portray. Obviously, the idea that you have a deep understanding of a set of poems whose interpretation is this subjective is absurd, but it's that ridiculous illusion of understanding that keeps me buying these books...
My favourite poems were the ones with more cohesive imagery, that didn't flit around between too many different ideas. (My one complaint about the book would be that some poems made me feel I had to hold a lot of seemingly unrelated images in my head at once, in case the poem's significance rested on connecting them all in a way I didn't understand yet. Sometimes, I couldn't balance all the plates; I'd reach the end of a poem and realise I couldn't remember the beginning. Still, that's what repeat reading is for). The first stanza of Topple The Room is a perfect unit of imagery,
If the opening sets up the mentality of a person convinced madness cannot happen to them, despite evidence to the contrary, then the final line has at least three different connotations. Most obviously, rice, like sanity, can slip through your fingers, but the act of carrying it 'next door' also comes across as pleading, with the slip into the surreal adding another layer of meaning.
Many of the best poems make reference to an unnamed sister, who in the poem Houseboat is stolen by a 'man in a cherry suit'. It's these poems that justify the 'moving into new and more personal territory' claim in the blurb; although the situations described in the poems are surreal, the affection towards the 'sister', (or sisters - are these poems all about the same person?) seems real.
The characterisation here is simple and sweet; it might belong to a much more realist poet, if it weren't for the earlier line, 'My sister is a dragonfly/ living on his lapel'. The poem as a whole is an uncomfortably mellow considering its subject of abduction, a contradiction perhaps best summed up in the line about the sister and her abductor, 'melodically/ pissing under trees'. I'll admit that I haven't spent enough time with this book to have settled on an interpretation, but I know Currin's beautiful, prickly style will keep me coming back.
Explanation of how to get your free eBook when you buy the print book.
Buy Hagiography from Coach House Books
Get the Kindle edition
Currently, the offer only includes ePub and PDF, and so isn't much use to Kindle users. This seems a little silly; their books are in the Kindle store, so presumably they have the .mobi files? I hope this is something they'll look at soon. Obviously, the deal only covers books that have already been converted to digital formats, but there's already an enticing selection to browse. Of the few ebooks I've bought so far, my recommendation is Hagiography by Jen Currin.
I bought this book because the blurb described it as surreal, but also, 'moving into new and more personal territory', and I wanted to see how Currin would bring these sometimes contradictory elements together. I believe it is possible to use the surreal to express personal experiences that plain speech won't quite cover, but there's a fine between that and cowardice. By which I mean, surrealism can be a convenient mode to slip into when you want to write about a situation but don't feel like disclosing the details.
I loved this book: it really felt like the surreal style was taking me closer to the ideas the author wanted to portray. Obviously, the idea that you have a deep understanding of a set of poems whose interpretation is this subjective is absurd, but it's that ridiculous illusion of understanding that keeps me buying these books...
My favourite poems were the ones with more cohesive imagery, that didn't flit around between too many different ideas. (My one complaint about the book would be that some poems made me feel I had to hold a lot of seemingly unrelated images in my head at once, in case the poem's significance rested on connecting them all in a way I didn't understand yet. Sometimes, I couldn't balance all the plates; I'd reach the end of a poem and realise I couldn't remember the beginning. Still, that's what repeat reading is for). The first stanza of Topple The Room is a perfect unit of imagery,
'We think madness is green and we are yellow.
Shown sideways, our scars gleam
their first warnings
as we go next door with our heartbeats,
our handfuls of rice.'
If the opening sets up the mentality of a person convinced madness cannot happen to them, despite evidence to the contrary, then the final line has at least three different connotations. Most obviously, rice, like sanity, can slip through your fingers, but the act of carrying it 'next door' also comes across as pleading, with the slip into the surreal adding another layer of meaning.
Many of the best poems make reference to an unnamed sister, who in the poem Houseboat is stolen by a 'man in a cherry suit'. It's these poems that justify the 'moving into new and more personal territory' claim in the blurb; although the situations described in the poems are surreal, the affection towards the 'sister', (or sisters - are these poems all about the same person?) seems real.
'It is well known that she wears flowers
under her arms, but my sister
is not another pink-haired
dolly. She gnaws the bone
of her book. Examines
metallic bugs on the street'
The characterisation here is simple and sweet; it might belong to a much more realist poet, if it weren't for the earlier line, 'My sister is a dragonfly/ living on his lapel'. The poem as a whole is an uncomfortably mellow considering its subject of abduction, a contradiction perhaps best summed up in the line about the sister and her abductor, 'melodically/ pissing under trees'. I'll admit that I haven't spent enough time with this book to have settled on an interpretation, but I know Currin's beautiful, prickly style will keep me coming back.
Explanation of how to get your free eBook when you buy the print book.
Buy Hagiography from Coach House Books
Get the Kindle edition
Monday, 6 February 2012
Bundling: Some Ideas
(Apologies for the recent lack of action on Poetry After Ink - I've taken a short break to concentrate on my own poetry, because I was keen to have some new work to show off post-Anatomically Incorrect Sketches... It's nearly there. Now tell me how you lot decide which lit mags and webzines to send your work to, because I'm paralyzed by choice).
Today I'm going to write about bundling, which is something music fans have been well acquainted with for a few years now, but book publishers are only just beginning to think about, such is the way of things. Bundling involves packaging two or more formats together, eg. the hardback and the ebook, and selling them for slightly more than you'd normally pay for the hardback, but not as much as you'd pay for both individually. I'd argue that this makes sense to publishers because...
- In practice, most consumers aren't tribal when it comes to choosing ebooks or print; they'll make a decision based on a mix of practical and emotional factors, and may feel that whichever they choose, it's a compromise. It's likely that many would prefer to have both. (Lit mag Ploughshares are currently running a poll on this subject - go and give them your views).
- Bundling doesn't represent a lost sale, as it's highly unlikely a consumer would buy both formats at full price. Hardback customers who decide they want the ebook will most likely download it illegally, reasoning that they've already made their contribution. eBook customers who fall in love with a book may be tempted by a beautiful hardback version, but other financial pressures will most likely take priority.
- A bundle therefore represents the greatest profit you're liable to wring out of any one reader, whilst simultaneously making you look like you've made a huge effort to give people what they want. Win. Win.
Since this is being a discussed a lot, I thought I'd throw in a couple of further ideas which don't seem to have been mentioned yet, both drawn from my extensive experience of spending lots of money on music. I'm more serious about the second idea than I am about the first.
1# The of Montreal Lampshade
Whenever I think of bundling as a business practice, this is the first thing that comes into my head.
of Montreal lampshade image belongs to Polyvinyl Records and of Montreal
This lampshade was perhaps the most gimmicky item among a range of merchandise of Montreal produced to promote their bad-taste twee funk opus Skeletal Lamping. You can still buy the lampshade now, (which may say something about the success of this project, more of which later). It costs $18, and includes a download code for the album, plus a bonus EP. Quick disclaimer: I don't actually have the lampshade, I have the double gatefold vinyl, which includes a huge fold out poster of a horse. I also own the album as MP3s, and have listened to it on my iPod many more times than I've listened to the vinyl, although I have listened to the vinyl, (I sometimes speak to people who have collections of special edition vinyl and no record player to listen to them on).
I view the lampshade as an experiment into what might happen if the physical element of the physical + digital bundle became so absurd as to actually be entirely useless. A physical manifestation of a record or book that doesn't actually do anything other than conjure up memories.
I guess I'm being a little bit catty about print fetishists here, but I think there is genuinely a subset of people who have to own books for the appearance and the smell, but who aren't actually all that bothered by the practical aspect of preserving the printed word. Maybe some of them would buy an author-branded lampshade if it smelt a bit musty?
I jest. As I remarked above, the fact that the Skeletal Lamping lampshade is still available for sale three years after the album was released should tell us that we're catering to a very niche market with the pointless memorabilia. (Although, maybe a popular children's author could carry something similar off - ebook + cuddly toy? Or similar?). T-shirt + eBook bundles are a bit more likely.
I understand that none of these items deliver what a physical book does in terms of providing a back-up for when technology fails, they're just ideas that might appeal to some people.
2# Andy Falkous Is Angry About Piracy
I've chosen Future Of The Left to write about here, because I have strong memories of Falkous insulting people who'd illegally downloaded his album from the pavilion stage at ATP, but I could probably have chosen a lot of other bands. I think this was around about 2009. Future of the Left's second album leaked quite some time before it was due to be released, but rather than simply pacing up and down their offices and letting out occasional screams for the next month, the record company decided to rush release the record. The album was available as a download + cd or download + vinyl bundle, and when you placed your pre-order you received the download immediately.
I think the immediate download when you pre-order model is definitely worth looking at for authors who've already built up substantial fanbases who are keen to get hold of new books as soon as they're available. This might be especially important for later installments of a popular series. Of course some readers will still choose the "free" option, but for many, the temptation to illegally download will be removed.
It's also a wonderful way to encourage blind loyalty when it isn't necessarily deserved, which reminds me, I really must ebay that awful Future Of The Left album.
Today I'm going to write about bundling, which is something music fans have been well acquainted with for a few years now, but book publishers are only just beginning to think about, such is the way of things. Bundling involves packaging two or more formats together, eg. the hardback and the ebook, and selling them for slightly more than you'd normally pay for the hardback, but not as much as you'd pay for both individually. I'd argue that this makes sense to publishers because...
- In practice, most consumers aren't tribal when it comes to choosing ebooks or print; they'll make a decision based on a mix of practical and emotional factors, and may feel that whichever they choose, it's a compromise. It's likely that many would prefer to have both. (Lit mag Ploughshares are currently running a poll on this subject - go and give them your views).
- Bundling doesn't represent a lost sale, as it's highly unlikely a consumer would buy both formats at full price. Hardback customers who decide they want the ebook will most likely download it illegally, reasoning that they've already made their contribution. eBook customers who fall in love with a book may be tempted by a beautiful hardback version, but other financial pressures will most likely take priority.
- A bundle therefore represents the greatest profit you're liable to wring out of any one reader, whilst simultaneously making you look like you've made a huge effort to give people what they want. Win. Win.
Since this is being a discussed a lot, I thought I'd throw in a couple of further ideas which don't seem to have been mentioned yet, both drawn from my extensive experience of spending lots of money on music. I'm more serious about the second idea than I am about the first.
1# The of Montreal Lampshade
Whenever I think of bundling as a business practice, this is the first thing that comes into my head.
of Montreal lampshade image belongs to Polyvinyl Records and of Montreal
This lampshade was perhaps the most gimmicky item among a range of merchandise of Montreal produced to promote their bad-taste twee funk opus Skeletal Lamping. You can still buy the lampshade now, (which may say something about the success of this project, more of which later). It costs $18, and includes a download code for the album, plus a bonus EP. Quick disclaimer: I don't actually have the lampshade, I have the double gatefold vinyl, which includes a huge fold out poster of a horse. I also own the album as MP3s, and have listened to it on my iPod many more times than I've listened to the vinyl, although I have listened to the vinyl, (I sometimes speak to people who have collections of special edition vinyl and no record player to listen to them on).
I view the lampshade as an experiment into what might happen if the physical element of the physical + digital bundle became so absurd as to actually be entirely useless. A physical manifestation of a record or book that doesn't actually do anything other than conjure up memories.
I guess I'm being a little bit catty about print fetishists here, but I think there is genuinely a subset of people who have to own books for the appearance and the smell, but who aren't actually all that bothered by the practical aspect of preserving the printed word. Maybe some of them would buy an author-branded lampshade if it smelt a bit musty?
I jest. As I remarked above, the fact that the Skeletal Lamping lampshade is still available for sale three years after the album was released should tell us that we're catering to a very niche market with the pointless memorabilia. (Although, maybe a popular children's author could carry something similar off - ebook + cuddly toy? Or similar?). T-shirt + eBook bundles are a bit more likely.
I understand that none of these items deliver what a physical book does in terms of providing a back-up for when technology fails, they're just ideas that might appeal to some people.
2# Andy Falkous Is Angry About Piracy
I've chosen Future Of The Left to write about here, because I have strong memories of Falkous insulting people who'd illegally downloaded his album from the pavilion stage at ATP, but I could probably have chosen a lot of other bands. I think this was around about 2009. Future of the Left's second album leaked quite some time before it was due to be released, but rather than simply pacing up and down their offices and letting out occasional screams for the next month, the record company decided to rush release the record. The album was available as a download + cd or download + vinyl bundle, and when you placed your pre-order you received the download immediately.
I think the immediate download when you pre-order model is definitely worth looking at for authors who've already built up substantial fanbases who are keen to get hold of new books as soon as they're available. This might be especially important for later installments of a popular series. Of course some readers will still choose the "free" option, but for many, the temptation to illegally download will be removed.
It's also a wonderful way to encourage blind loyalty when it isn't necessarily deserved, which reminds me, I really must ebay that awful Future Of The Left album.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)