Almost counts in horseshoes, hand grenades, and this
question, so let’s say I sent the book out about twenty times. I sent it out to
its first contest in the fall of 2011, and I heard back from the University of
Akron Press in the summer of 2012. It received a few finalist nods elsewhere
and was, after I withdrew it, under serious consideration with another press.
But I found the right editor, Mary Biddinger, at the right time, and I’m
pleased as a possum in a trash bin to be with the Akron Poetry Series.
Tell me about the title. Had it
always been Signaletics? Did it go
through any other changes?
For
a little while the manuscript was titled Latent
Print after a sequence by the same name, but it soon became Signaletics. The only time I really
doubted the title was when a Famous-Poet-Not-to-Be-Named upon hearing my title
said, “Are you actually smart? Or are you just trying to sound that way?” What
a blow! Fortunately, after a few nights of pacing and self-doubt, I had some
reassurance from a mentor, and I have no regrets about it now. I do have to
explain the title at readings often, but that just gives me a lead-off talking
point.
It seems like there’s a possible
misconception among some poets who are trying to get their first book
published: that they must win a contest. Were you concerned about winning a
contest at any point? What advice would you give to poets sending their book
out now regarding contests versus open reading periods?
Money’s
certainly nice, and that’s one reason one should certainly enter contests. (In
addition to the fact that prizes often have tenured acclaim and publicity.) But
I think landing a book with a press you respect for their other titles, their
design, distribution, and marketing is more important. So, if you land with an
editor you love outside of a contest, be grateful!
Occasionally,
I’ll hear a poet who second guesses a decision to go with a press or not,
especially after the new-car-smell of the book wears off. If you can find a
great editor, hell, that beats the candy in the contest piñata.
What was the process like assembling
the book? How many different versions did it go through as you were sending it
out?
It’s
difficult for me to locate what’s a draft versus what’s an iteration of a
draft. The book didn’t come together in stages, as the term draft implies. I was always tinkering
with it, from the smallest things to the biggest. Occasionally, I would swell
up with an idea for a poem and have to write it down. Some of the collection’s
poems were drafted as early as autumn 2009. The last was written in late spring
2012. I continue to tinker with the book until the final draft was due in early
2013. The biggest changes were with ordering. I’d say the book went through
about four or five arrangements before it was picked up, two after. One of my
peer reviewers suggested that the book was a little cold, lacking in emotion.
At first I was defeated by this comment, but then I later realized that a
reordering of the collection could help reveal the stakes of the poems. At that
point, I shifted toward the front a few poems that contained the narratives or
situations that make the emotional implications more clear. That’s when I knew
the book was right.
How involved were you with the
design of the book—interior design, font, cover, etc.?
I
was very involved. My designer’s name is Amy Freels; she works for both
University of Akron and Cleveland State University Press. She’s incredible. I
sent her countless images of things I was considering, and she was very patient
with me through the whole process. We finally settled on a historical
photograph—a mug shot—from Sydney, Australia. We were granted usage rights for
a small fee. From there, Amy composed the cover. After that, she wrote to me
one day and said that she had an idea for section breaks, a small illustration
from an antique book about public speaking gestures. It was exactly what I wanted.
Did you suggest or have any input
regarding the image that was used on the cover?
As
I mentioned before, yes. I found the image in a historical trust’s online
archives. Fortunately, my designer
loved it!
What about the publication of the
actual poems in journals and magazines prior to the book being published? Was
there ever a concern for you to have the majority of the poems published before
you were sending out your manuscript?
I
wanted a majority taken by journals I admire before it went into the contest
circuit. Once it was taken, I wanted all the poems to come out in journals
before the book was published. I had about four or five left over, so I sent
those out and placed them quickly. All the poems were published prior to the book’s
publication.
How much work did you do as far as
editing the poems from the day you knew the book would be published to its
final proofing stage?
First
of all, once the book was accepted, I asked Mary if I could add two poems. I
sent her the manuscripts including the additions and she approved. The book
next went out to two peer reviewers who both provided me with some excellent
feedback. I’d say it went through two more rounds of reordering, a round of
nitpicking, and a round of copyediting. Then it went into a draft with the
interior design.
What do you remember about the day
when you saw your published book for the first time?
I
was at Bread Loaf. The official release date for the book was September 1,
2013, but I had been accepted as a fellow to the conference, and in order to go
as a fellow, my book had to be out. Akron rushed the printing of the books and
got them out on August 11, 2013, the day before the conference started. The
first time I saw the book was in the Bread Loaf bookstore where it was being
bought by poets I respect and admire. Incredible!
If you struck up a conversation next
to someone seated on an airplane, and after a few minutes you eventually told
them that you were an author who had a book of poetry published, how would you
answer their next question: “What’s the book about?”
I
usually avoid this conversation because it leads to “I read a poem at my
mother’s funeral and it helped me grieve” at best or, at worst, “People still
write poetry?” So, when someone asks me what my book is about, I say something
like “Well, they’re poems, so you can imagine that they can be about pretty
much everything.” Of course, some people have the notion that poems can only be
difficult abstract representations of love, nature, and death. If I’m feeling
like I don’t want to evangelize them about how amazing poetry can be, what it
can contain and be about, I say something like “forensics, my father, and
anxiety.” If they pry any further, I’d say, “Wanna see a copy? I have one right
here in my carry-on, and one in my check bag, and one in the seat pocket in
front of me, and my agent and assistant have copies in the row behind us, and…”
just to freak them out.
What have you been doing to promote Signaletics, and what have those
experiences been like for you?
I’ve
done a lot of readings in the last year, some at my own expense. It’s not easy
out there to book readings that pay, but I saved a little moolah to hit the
road a couple times this last year. I have to say that, if you’re running a reading
series, the least you should do is buy a visiting writer supper and let them
crash on your floor. Oh, and make sure that at least a couple of copies are
purchased. (A book raffle? Signed copies to donate to the library?) That’s all
I want when I get out there. If there’s more, well, that’s gravy.
What advice do you wish someone had
given you before your first book came out?
Take
a clonazepam, and chill out. I think I got everything covered as best I could,
but I obsessed over everything and caused a great deal of anxiety for myself.
Perhaps I won’t do those sorts of things with the next book.
Are there any new writing projects
in the works?
Earlier
this summer I sent off my finalized second manuscript titled Groundspeed to Mary Biddinger at Akron.
It will go to the board for final approval in September. Also, since my return
from working at the Sewanee Writers’ Conference, I’ve written seven poems! How
has that happened, especially since I said I would work exclusively on essays
for a while . . .? Bad poet, bad!
Do you believe that poetry can
create change in the world?
For
some people, and many of them already have that gravitational pull rocking
their tides, and then there’s some that can be reborn in poetry, and then there
will be some people that will never have their world changed by poetry, and we
shouldn’t be sad about that. Earlier this year, a good friend of mine cried in
front of a Pollack painting at the Art Institute of Chicago while I stood
beside him, a little sleepy and sugar-doped from the dessert we had just
before. Sometimes poetry can’t even change my world. I was recently listening
to Joy Katz on the Poetry Foundation’s “Poetry Off the Shelf” podcast talk
about how, after her mother died, she couldn’t find poems that could help her
deal with that grief. There have been times when poems were the last things I
wanted to read, and why? Because maybe right then I needed music. Or time with
friends. Not poems. And this is healthy. It’s like not drinking for a while and
then having one nice Hendrick’s and tonic and realizing that it all goes to
your head much faster those days, and you feel giddy for it. That’s what I need
some times, to be a lightweight with poetry, to not grow cynical. And maybe
I’m not answering your question head on; maybe I’m talking more about how
poetry can change people and how a person can change people by how much time
they devote to poems. But, of course, a change in enough people changes what we
call the “world,” the human world. Now ask me if poetry can terraform, and we
can talk figuratively.
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How
often had you sent out The Youngest
Butcher in Illinois before YesYes Books chose it for publication in 2012?
I lost count. I remember that, for over a
year, I spent a lot of money on contests. Broke and dejected, for nearly
another year, I sent to contests occasionally. In the end, I got really lucky.
I was just about to overhaul the whole schmear when Justin Boening, who was the
acquisitions editor at YesYes, wrote to ask if I had a manuscript in the
works.
Tell
me about the title. Had it always been The
Youngest Butcher in Illinois? Did it go through any other changes?
Titling the book was maybe the hardest part
for me. Several years ago, I was listening to a This American Life episode
entitled 24 Hours at the Golden Apple.
The producer interviewed a man named John Zervas who, in 1979 at 8 years old,
was the youngest butcher in Illinois. I knew I’d be lifting that for a title,
although the poem has little else in common with Mr. Zervas. The Youngest Butcher in Illinois felt
like the best title for the book, but I wondered if the title poem could
shoulder the book. I made long lists of titles and sent them to friends who
almost always chose YBI. In the end,
it felt inevitable and right.
It
seems like there’s a possible misconception among some poets who are trying to
get their first book published: that they must win a contest. Were you
concerned about winning a contest at any point? What advice would you give to
poets sending their book out now regarding contests versus open reading
periods?
The contest system is a costly gamble. Advice?
There’s something to be said for ushering your work into the world with
reverence. After all, it’s cost you time and blood and tears and any number of
other fluids, vitreous and cardinal. Don’t send to contests that haven’t
published books you like. If you know who the judge is, don’t send to that
contest if you know she or he won’t be into your work. Don’t waste your money.
It’s helpful to get individual poems out into the world. Some people (who are
not me) are really good at networking; that’s of use apparently. If you feel
strongly that your book would be at home with a certain press, get your
manuscript to them.
What
was the process like assembling the book? How many different versions did it go
through as you were sending it out?
Out of the four chapters that make up the
book, two sections constitute a long poem, To
Show the Living, which had been published as a chapbook. In some ways,
having this long poem made things more difficult for me— I was worried it
dominated the book or that it was of its own world. I contemplated (and still
consider) turning it into a book-length poem. However, I wanted the book to
have formal variety with the poems still being sectarian or at least
accomplices— I imagined many of the poems were just different trails through
the same quagmire—so I had to ax quite a few sweethearts. On the same token,
the need for unity produced its own poems. This is something Linda Gregg told
me— that as she nears the end of writing a book, the book itself writes poems.
In short, assembling the book had to do with arranging the long poem, cutting
poems of different lineage and writing bridge poems.
How
involved were you with the design of the book—interior design, font, cover,
etc.?
The mastermind and captain of YesYes Books,
KMA Sullivan, told me to list artists whose work I felt was kindred to the
book. This was both gracious and daunting. I’m pretty sure Dan Estabrook was
the first person on my list. She liked him too. We looked at all of his work
and chose some favorites. KMA took over from there: she chose the art and
designed the book. Still, she involved me every step of the way. It was
important to me that the paper wasn’t super white, and she honored that. Maybe
because it makes my eye floaters go crazy, I really hate white paper.
What
about the publication of the actual poems in journals and magazines prior to
the book being published? Was there ever a concern for you to have the majority
of the poems published before you were sending out your manuscript?
Initially, I didn’t really care if I had an
extensive list of journals in my acknowledgements page, but before the book was
coming out, it did occur to me that this could be a good thing— a stamp of
approval. And since YesYes was a very new press, maybe it’d be good for them
too. I don’t know how these things work. And, like I said, the long poem had
been published as a chapbook which meant half of the book had been published
all at once.
How
much work did you do as far as editing the poems from the day you knew the book
would be published to its final proofing stage?
I don’t feel like I edited the poems too much,
but I recently found a very early draft and was shocked to see how much had changed.
By the time KMA and Justin got their hands on it, the poems were pretty much as
they are now. We did play around with sections. Also, YesYes asked me to cut
two sections from the book, and I think it was the right choice. Those sections
have been published as a chapbook and a pamphlet. One, Nether and Qualms, is available from Projective Industries. If you
ask YesYes nicely, they might send you a copy of the pamphlet A Happy Idea.
What
do you remember about the day when you saw your published book for the first
time?
I remember everything. I met KMA at the
Myrtle-Wycoff stop, and we took the L train together. I’d been warned by her
and others that it can be a bizarre experience. And sure enough, it was. I’m
such an anxious person; the only thing I could do was worry about everything.
Out of all the feelings I remember from that day, I believe the strangest was
the sense that it was done. All that working and dreaming and rejection was
over. I’m not sure why, but when I think back to that, I hear Hart Crane, “Is
the silence strong enough/ To carry back the music to its source/ And back to
you again…” It was strange to go through these emotions and to see my book for
the first time in the presence of someone else. KMA and I rode the train
together for a while, then I had to go to work with my first book in my bag. I
was teaching an undergraduate workshop at Columbia that day, and though the
book was all I could think about, I told no one.
If
you struck up a conversation next to someone seated on an airplane, and after a
few minutes you eventually told them that you were an author who had a book of
poetry published, how would you answer their next question: “What’s the book
about?”
I’m on an airplane right now. If I wasn’t so
sheepish, I’d give it a try. I don’t love attempting to say what it’s about. In
fact, I probably wouldn’t answer that question seriously ever. I’d half-joke
that it’s about my mom and my ex(es). There are themes of family and
displacement that run through the book. The can of worms if the worms are my
obsessions. I think the guy sitting next to me hates me.
What
have you been doing to promote The
Youngest Butcher in Illinois, and what have those experiences been like for
you?
Again, I’m really fortunate to have been
published by YesYes books. KMA and her people really believe in their writers
and work hard to promote their work. They set up readings, including a West
Coast tour, and sent the book to a variety of contests and reviewers. I’m
terrible at self-promotion.
What
advice do you wish someone had given you before your first book came out?
I can’t think of anything I wish someone had
told me. I had such tremendous support. Maybe this: Don’t make any
last-minute changes to poems.
Are
there any new writing projects in the works?
I’m finishing up a second book, but that could
take forever.
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