Preparing for and Orienting Yourself to the Real World of Publishing 
by Don Schaeffer
(this was a blog post not accepted by a client)

Publishing books, especially artistic books, poetry, and novels, is a deeply romantic dreamy idea for most writers. There are probably hundreds of millions of writers in the world, all dreaming of publication. Many fantasize about fame, fortune and a life of art. They dream that publication will lead to immortality. At the same time, the publishing industry exists amid  the maelstrom of economics which does not treat the arts kindly, especially the written arts. Poetry, as the anonymous poet says, is 

the least/ valuable of arts/ the most futile/ form of prayer.

In 2013, Polls on the subject reported that more than 80 percent of Americans would like to be writers. In 2011 329,259 books were published in the United States and 2.2 million books were published in the world. If you look at writers as a profession, an estimated 180,000 people (Forbes estimates 145,000) are said to be employed as writers in the United States, with an average estimated salary of $65,000 per year. To track writers in this way seems to make writing a much more established profession than it really is. But, there are many with writing as a profession. The government counts 58,000 reporters in the United States, 127,200 editors, 62,000 broadcast announcers, 320,000 public relations writers, and 49,500 technical writers. Half of these people have a half-finished novel in their desk drawer as well.

The Hard Road of Book Publication.

Much has been written about the death of poetry. There are arguments about the extent to which poetry is actually read. Some say that the audience for poetry is gradually extinguishing. A survey of public participation in the arts between 1992 and 2012 found that readership of poetry declined from 17 percent of readers in 199 to 6.7 percent of readers in 2012. Some actually argue that more people are reading poetry than ever, but the audiences are invisible and not measurable by the marketplace.

Even popular-style fiction has a long row to hoe before success.  Of  the 18 most popular and best earning fiction books, the average number of rejections by publishers was 83 (according to figures gathered by Forbes). Even when published only a small percentage of books sell more than 500 copies. Only 2 percent of books sold more than 5,000 copies.

Levels and Kinds of Publication.

One of the most important general principles of publication is that one way or another the artist will have to pay to get an audience. I may not be a direct payment, but in some ways, it may be.

Of course, there are more efficient ways to get published. There are ways for writers to compromise with their dreams, much shorter routes to getting things in print.  At the most basic level, there is self-publication and there is the real possibility of getting a short publication in the newspaper "letter to the editor" section.

There are many online forums and poetry or writing groups who "workshop" your writing. Members of the group can number in the hundreds. Members read and critique submissions. As far as poetry goes, many of the workshops are organized a monthly juried contest called the Inter Board Poetry Contest or IBPC. Many writers circulate their work through their own blogs, email lists, YouTube videos, or podcasts. The internet provides many ways that writers can reach for fame with little investment.

Self-publication is a definite disappointment to the ego of the ambitious writer. But it is a way of creating a book which can then be sold. If you properly register your book with the ISBN system, many bookstores will agree to stock your book and pay the author for any profit on sales. You can print your book through self-help systems online or through the Amazon Create Space system. There are still many local printers who will create books for a nominal price. Some will offer help in composition and graphics. You may also opt to do everything yourself.

Value-added printers are a recent addition to the hierarchy of publication. These companies will create books in any number you wish. They handle the technicalities of registering your book and seeing to the positioning of the book with online sellers. They often also advertise and publicize your book and list it with their own inventory. Generally, if you want to sell the books, you have to buy the books yourself or make some similar agreement to procure your book. You, therefore, own the complete rights to the book and market it any way you like. These finished books are attractive and, except for the name of the publisher, can't be distinguished from any other published book. Many companies who call themselves "publishers" are really value-added printers.

Publishing in Annuals, Magazines, e-zines, or periodicals is the way many authors publish what the write. Often, publishing in periodicals resembles a form of value-added printing since the periodicals almost always want authors to purchase a subscription or even pay a fee for inclusion. The publishers of periodicals will often also publish short books, sometimes called chapbooks.

Many writers get their start in conventional publishing through small independent publishers. Small presses are abundant in the U.S. and they take more risks on unknown authors than large publishers. You will need some kind of writing track record before a small press will consider your work, but they do accept unsolicited writing (which major publishers usually do not). They can be very good, very helpful, but print runs are very small and promotions may not help much to sell what you have written. Publishing your book with a small press can be a stepping stone to recognition by larger publishers.

Major Publishers receive thousands of manuscripts to fit very few marketing spots. They tend to want established writers  with recognizable names. Authors are often obligated to find advocates on a personal basis to receive any attention from them. Some hire literary agents to use personal influence to gain entry to the editorial offices. Major publishers are part of an elite society that does not accept many who do not have a pedigree.

Major publishers handle their authors by making a contract that gives the publisher the right to distribute the book while the author retains the copyright. If the author has submitted an outline for the book, he or she may receive an "advance payment" to cover the costs of completing the boo. The publisher generally has a lot of control of how the book looks and the process of selling and marketing the product.

Nov 10, 2016

By Ruth Hill

Ruth is a poet with a lot of interest in nature.

Trump and his voters are deplorable. I am very depressed about it. The media covered NOTHING about the Republican gerrymandering that took place to get majorities in each district. It said NOTHING about closing 15 polling stations in democratic areas of North Carolina. Podesta’s campaign strategy was all wrong for defeating Trump. Hillary did not argue logical arguments from a position of strength and confidence. Hillary unfortunately projects the expectation of rejection, because she has been rejected twice before, in marriage and primaries. In order to win, PERSONALITY counts. A lot of people found her unlikable for her mean lecture style and not her emails. Bernie drew large crowds because they were using modern social media better. Also his personality was great, everybody’s favorite grandpa. But he used two catch phrases people were frightened of: revolution and free college (how will it be paid for?). Democratic superdelegates stacked for Hilary 4-8 years ago have to be ELIMINATED. Republican obstructionism must be made illegal  Both parties must groom new blood more acceptable to concerned citizenry. High schoolers must be taught to resist negative campaign style, so they are not so easily deceived. Above all the “Christian evangelist caliphate” of the rural areas that is teaching there is no separation of church and state, that church should rule the state, must have the historical persecution reasons for the US secular constitution explained to them. There is lots of work to do. The country is falling apart at the party seam.

Friend's Impression of a Waterfall

Yucky Words

by Don Schaeffer
This is a blog post I worked really hard on then it was rejected. I figure no one else is going to buy it but I think it's pretty good.



Ok, let's start at the beginning. Looking for the ugliest anything, where do we start? What is ugly? It may be easier to define for vision, for human faces than for words. Human beings are very visual creatures. There are many more articles and thoughtful pieces written about ugly visual things than ugly sounds. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," writes the ancient Greek commentator. Shakespeare echoes centuries later with "Beauty is bought by judgement of the eye."
Getting Things Straight:
The word "ugly" itself stems from the old Norse "uggligr," meaning dreadful or fearful. Fear and immorality are somehow touched by the word "ugly" because of the deep connection the medieval church made between morality and physical beauty. Giving children a "pretty name" was giving them the gift of moral regeneracy. "No ugly woman," writes the 19th century poet in Noctes Ambrosionae, "ever yet a wrote a truly beautiful poem the length of her little finger."
Bringing us down to earth:
One thing that makes a word ugly is that the word is harmful or frightening. Many feel that curses are ugly. They often denote ugly acts, socially unappealing acts, or behaviors that disrupt the normal and peaceful flow of social life. Thus words like "bowels" or "crotch" (or some of the epithets that stand for these) are considered ugly, rude and disruptive. Even the "F" word that stands for sexual acts that need to be done in private is considered ugly by many.
Sometimes ugliness brings us down to earth, when we prefer to be in an ideal and undisturbed place. Sir Edward Sullivan wrote in 1894, "beauty attracts attention, and ugliness repels it." Ugliness is earthiness. Ugly people are thought to be closer to the physical side of life. In Lord of the Rings, J.R.R. Tolkien depicts the Orcs, those ugliest of creatures, as artificial creatures, magically formed out of mud. And of course the bible depicts the human race as being formed in much the same way, separating humanity from heaven.
The Guttural:
There is something ugly about words that make noises in the throat, as compared to words that slip breathlessly through the lips. We don't want to be reminded of the presence of the body when we speak. We especially don't want to be reminded of fluids that gurgle around in our throats. Guttural languages like German and Dutch are judged by many as the most ugly because they contain many of those sounds. Guttural sounds are defined as strange, unpleasant and disagreeable utterances. The English language has inherited many guttural-sounding words from the Nordic languages as well as more pleasant words from Latin-based languages.
That gets us closer to ugly words. The deeply non-logical way the human brain works on language is demonstrated by irony. Many words largely judged as ugly actually denote constructive, even beautiful things. The component parts of the word suggest earthy things or things better left secret.
Many gross words are onomatopoeic. They stir up a synesthetic reaction. The sounds of the word bring up body parts and unpleasant actions that have nothing to do with the actual meaning. The origin of words is sometimes lost so far back in time that the meaning changes from something ugly to something high-reaching. There are words that have little meaning beyond what the sound does to the imagination.
An ugly words list:
Anybody can draw up their own list.
1. allophonics.

• The word "pulchritude" is often described as an ugly word, even though it denotes "physical beauty." Somehow, the sound of the word reminds many of obesity. There is a hip and thigh quality about it. Commenting in "Sesquiotica" a blogger writes, "It [the word] brings to the eyes broken patterns of pulp, mulch, rude, pull...In sound it tosses in a couple of the allophonic effects in English that non-English speakers are apt to find unpleasant or vulgar..."

2. The heavy body.

• "Gestational" brings us quickly down to earth. It denotes the nutritional part of carrying a fetus. However, many see it as connoting a cold, secret side of pregnancy that still, even in this day and age, remain private. Writing in "The Australian," Melinda Tankard Reist described the word as representing "The objectification of women's bodies and commodification of childbirth." She reminds us of passages in the novel Dune depicting "axlotl tanks" which are women who are lobotomized and whose bodies are used as "gestational carriers for clones."
• "Regurgitate" and its more prosaic version, "vomit" are also among the ugliest words in the English language. No word takes us closer to the bodily functions that should be hidden than these words that denote the undoing of eating. These words are unpleasant because they are shameful as are so many unpleasant words.

The kinky and comic.

• The word "quark" is kinky, rather than strictly ugly in the opinion of most. James Joyce used the word in Finnegan's Wake in a scurrilous 13 line poem directed against King Mark, the cuckolded husband in the Trisdan legend. "Three quarks for Master Mark/ Sure he hasn't got much of a bark/ and sure any he has it's all beside the mark." The word was adopted by theoretical physicist Murray Gell-Mann during the time when a group of theoretical physics were inventing kinky names for subatomic particles. It was also used as the name of a rather unattractive Star Trek Ferengi character, who is a kind of swindler.
• A lot of people don't like the word "mooch." To mooch is to get things from others without paying for them. It's not quite stealing, more like finagling. "Mooch" has a comic kind of nastiness about it. When people feel it's ugly, it appears to inherit its ugliness from the annoying person and actions it designates. A mooch is a creature of the comedic, vaudville stage. Who remembers Cab Calloway and his theme song about "Minnie the Moocher?" We laughed.
• A pugilist is simply a boxer. The word dates back to the 1640s. There are many ugly things associated with the word, like a "pug," an ugly little dog. Many people vote that word into the ugly list. The classic fist fighter was far more brutal than they are today. According to the classics, these fighters used to break each other's ribs, gouge out each other's eyes, then stand over the loser, laughing. That's pretty ugly all right.

The Finale:
In his blog, "Words Going Wild," Jim Bernhard, quotes the poetry of the infamous "Bard of Buffalo Bayou" who gave us a full and quick dose of ugly words when he attempted to write the ugliest verse in the English language.

Vomit, smegma, phlegm, and pus, all pasty in a sac,/ Schmeared with a fetid spatula upon a plump kakkak,/ Discharge a kumquat ointment on the scab of that smallpox,/ Then honk in moist cacaphony in the jazz of some jukebox./ The curdled veggie, full of snotty sap--just masticate; / If kooky, flatulent, don’t gripe or puke—regurgitate./ A gargoyle with no boobs is feisty, pregnant and phlegmatic,/ For routine slaughter, kudos for a pustule plutocratic./ A gutted, Brobdingnagian, crepuscular quahog/ Has so much sticktoitniveness, you can crunch it in a blog./ A bunion on a rural juror’s crotch is treachery,/ Pulchritude and privilege fructify with synergy./ My spouse’s fiscal tax will leave my gusset with a gash./ Tell me what aasvogel means, I’ll give you a chunk of cash!"

Slough Straw

by Ruth Hill

“SLOUGH STRAW” won the Writers Rising Up! 2012 shared 1st Prize, and won the Inland Empire California Writers’ Club Fall 2012 2^nd Prize of $50, judged by Gayle Brandeis, and was published online in IECWC “Fresh Ink.”

This is my photo the poet says inspired her.

 

There is nothing delicate or pretty
about the way hay rides in the ditch
sour grass and shadowy, hiding things at night

Hardy cohabitant, maker of air

Succumbed to snow? No.
The scorching wind pummels it without winning
The drenching rain leaves nothing
but spots of wet and dry mold
It stands in spine­binding cold

Herbicides turn it red, apparently dead
embarrassed, but it browns up again
and resumes healing the damaged earth

And still it stands,
witness only to its own existence
as if its only purpose were to protect its young

New growth unaware of its prelude provider
fights for space up through its smothering guardian
the flexing bright green babies so unlike
their ancient battered predecessors

...and the little grass says, “Look how beautiful I am!”
Does it listen to what the straw has to say?
Or does it say, “You are old and wasted, man or m’am.”

...but in its DNA,
is everything the straw wanted to say.

Beauty and Joy ...(to Don Schaeffer)

by Ruth Hill

This was written as a special compliment to me. Thanks Ruth.

He captures beauty and joy

with eleven technical lenses

sees life in an unfurled bud

as in rotting leaves and dried flowers

likes naughty squirrels and polite birds

can find composition with garden urns

black twigs lacing blue sky

sea sparkles reflected on hulls

waning light on a single seagull

He invites viewers to ride along

inside his camera on his daily walks

inside his mind on a windy day

All Wild

by Ruth Hill



Ruth was born and educated in upstate New York, and traveled North America extensively. She now lives and writes in Northern British Columbia. She is a Certified Design Engineer, lifelong dedicated tutor, and enjoys spoken word. She has won 1st prizes in Gulf Coast Ethnic & Jazz Poetry, Heart Poetry, Lucidity, Poets for Human Rights, and Writers Rising Up. Over 250 of her poems have won awards or publication in the US, Canada, UK, and Israel. She enjoys email from other poets.




 
Though many love the topiary, boxwood,
I prefer a garden long overgrown
and spread into the wild,
wild interbreeding to reclaim ancestral ties
open pollinating freely
unconcerned with who is better
wind laying all down equally
rain drunk by all equally
verdant and effusive
floribundant and intrusive
hills all willy-nilly silly frilly
with montage-collage portages
orange lilies poking up through burgundy rhubarb
blue flax and michaelmas by wild goldenrod
for  "there is no blue without the yellow”
michaelmas not blue nor purple nor mauve nor pewter
pincushions not lemon or lime but hued over time
milkweed and thistles fluffing wildly like bubble machines
aromas of leaf mold, sweet earth and wild orchids
textures heaped up like thrift store clearance
colors not edited by more ‘educated’ eyes
burden of fleas and chiggers and bees and flies
candied nectar leaking from necks
thick alkaline poison protects
the soft and stiff and harsh and hardy
climbing all over each other in gorgeous orgy
oblivious, intertwined, without prejudice
strolled through, it and its creator
all wild
all mine

Jim Edwards The Forest

 

Jim Edwards, MFA is a Winnipeg artist who works in colored pencil. He appeared in this blog before.

 

 

 

 

You Taste Great

by GuyKettelhack

 



Guy is a unique poet and artist with a psychoanalytic perspective on things. Each of his poems is accompanied by one of his strange drawings. They remind me of Dr. Seuss but they are definitely for adults.

I love licking you,
you taste great.
If you were on a menu,
I’d keep picking you,
clean my plate.

Full Size Rendering

 

by Jim Edwards (1968)

 

 

Jim is an artist from Winnipeg, Manitoba. He has been spending the last few years making miniatures in colored pencil because his home is so chock full of paintings. This one is full sized (18 X 24 inches). Find some of his work at http://fineartamerica.com/featured/bluetop-sky-jim-edwards.html.

 

 

Drawings by My Granddaughter, Hannah Zoe (age 7)

Portrait of her grandfather

(from a Skype conversation)

A Dead Criminal

by Tom Prime

 

Here is our post beatnik poet again, the wonderfully bitter young man. He's been here before.

I felt this strangeness
Coming out, like wintry frozen
Rivers, ribbons on my old guitar—when

I met her in the park; it was the sense,
Hanging like a dead criminal, that love

Would punch me in the nose—blood would

Flow gently in scintillating leaf shadow tree light
Out all over the dried dead earth, and

Flowers, like one sided mirrors, would grow.

Magic for Children

(I wrote this as a ghost-writer for a magician's website. He didn't like it and wanted a re-write. I think it's pretty good.)

Magicians and clowns are among the most popular childrens birthday party entertainment. Both are about magic. They draw the imaginations of children outside the day-to-day world. Some guesses are that there are some seven magicians for every 100,000 people in the world. Membership in the International Magicians Society numbers 41,000 world wide. This is a large population of people. Magic is a very popular pursuit. The International Magicians Society even offers a doctor of magic degree which members can earn by passing a practical examination.

A magician flirts with the unknown and illogical. These are experiences that children love. Children love dream worlds and fairy tales about magical things outside the possible. Stimulating that part of a child's imagination brings them wonder. Children are first learning how things work. When they see their common sense violated, they push their imaginations outward. It is not enough to explain magic as illusion and distraction. Magic is a flirtation with the unknown and impossible. As far as the audience is concerned, this is as close to mystery as we can come. As in dreams, mystery is best explored with humor. Children will laugh while they wonder.

Childrens magicians are fun. The magician likes to bring the magic really close to the audience. The birthday child will be the star of the show. A good magician will puzzle and bamboozle right up close. Magic is comic performance. It is hucksterism. But no one should forget that magic derives from mystery. We never want to admit it, but the children and the adults in the audience always hope that the impossible really happens. The audience helps the magician and the magician brings the audience the wonder that they all wish for. Nobody really wants to know how it's done.

The best magicians are raised in the craft. It's entertainment with a bit of gypsy-ism in it. Many come from families of magicians. Many develop an interest at a very early age and master their craft over a lifetime. Amateurs can buy many magic tricks in stores and master them quickly, but a true professional can show the audience something new and will do it with a flair that brings their audiences to their feet. Like circus performers, magicians bring a slightly off-beat quality to their appearances. We like to think of them as coming from a different, maybe exotic place. Many professional magicians really do meet this expectation. They are kind and funny and loving but they appear not to live among us but to come from a place where they obtain secret wisdom.

We laugh. We are told that they distract us and toy with us. They hypnotize us. But we want them to be so much more. And they are. They entertain us by reaching beyond our ordinary logical experience.

Hannah's Tooth Fairy

Huzzah

by Anna Yin


Anna is a brave poet with Chinese origin, who writes in English and Chinese. She lives in Toronto Canada.  Anna is well recognized for her poetic commentaries on current events in Toronto. She is the recipient of several prizes. I am proud to be her internet colleague.  According to Anna, this poem was written about me.--Don Schaeffer
.

.
Every few days or so,
he sends his short poems.
New and ink-dripping,
rarely making a ripple…
Occasionally I open them, seldom reply.
I suppose he sends each to many of us-
the various busy and lonely souls.
.
Now snow is here;
the trail is quiet.
I spread a few biscuits around.
No bird at all.
No bird—
only us!

Farm House

 

by Josh Koubek

 

 

Twenty-Thirteen

by Josh Koubek

Josh is an occasional poet as well as a gourmet cook and bike rider.


I never used to believe in numerology.
Then I wrecked my
motorcycle and I lost
my job.
But when I met
you I knew I was
right all along.

Skyscraper City

by Marc Schaeffer quoting his daughter, Hannah

Marc is my son and Hannah my first granddaughter (age 5).

Hannah and I walked to her school today (half an hour or so). She sang for the first 20 minutes -- a song about how when she lived in "Sky Scraper City" (a place she often talks about as her second country) she was a grown up, grew old and died.. and then someone came.. and picked her up.. and.. placed her in her Mother's belly. That she was "reborn". (Her words). Gave me shivers.. it was a beautiful song.

Klingon Medicine

by Joshua Koubek

 

 



korjax

magok

 

Josh is a dyed in the wool Trekie who owns a tv remote in the shape of a phaser. His fascination with future science is demonstrated in this short piece.

 

When a Klingon warrior is seriously wounded in battle, say a vital organ has been compromised, a special piece of armor is applied over the wound. It's called a korjax. Depending on the nature of the wound and its location, the soretek, a Klingon healer will select the appropriate korjax to treat the wound.

The korjax is more than just armor. It is a functional medical device which has been inoculated with eggs and larva of the magok. The magok are similar to gok, the live worms eaten at traditional Klingon victory feasts. While the gok are harvested from the viscera of slain enemies, the magok act as tiny surgeons, eating away dead tissue and secreting an antiseptic mucus. What's more, after the the larva feed they emerge from the wound, at which time they are consumed by the ailing warrior.

The magok provide not only sustenance but also contain psychotropic and anesthetic compounds assisting the warriors journey to recovery.

A Southern Town

by Tom Prime

Tom has appeared here before. He is a latter day beat poet, brimming with energy, searching for regeneracy, self-defense, and self-destruction. This is one of his shorter works. Tom is a magic, mystical free spirit. His writing reflects that.

I grew up in a southern town. My cat meows at the bathroom door. He meows and he meows but I won’t let him through, because he wants to eat the paint that’s chipping off the wall. The paint is chipping off the wall, because I shower in hot water and the hot water seeps into the skin of the walls. There’s no internal fan in my apartment. I have a portable one, but it isn’t plugged in. I use it in the summer, when the days are too hot and the air eats at your skin like old age or hydrochloric acid.

 

I grew up in the south of the city of Detroit and the air was molten lava, maybe that’s just what I wanted it to be. I’ve seen some terrible things. I’ve done bad things. I’ve seen the end of the world in the eyes of hopeless people drifting off to sleep in their little dune buggies in space; their little dune buggies that ran away from the molten lava faces. I guess I pre-ambled a bit; it was only because of my inherent negativity. I wish that I could be more uplifting, like a carnival wheel that keeps on spinning, spinning on through the effervescent night.

I killed a small fortune of aliens from mars. No I am not, as some would call, crazy. I am an overweight butterfly, floating across the great expanse of the ocean. The ocean is wild like the butterfly but it is inherently capricious like a power hungry lover, drifting in the mire of discontent. I want to guarantee to everyone that the product that I am selling is worth buying.

I collected the words from the thoughts from the migrations of the birds from the supercilious men with their political smirks. I told them what to think. I made it clear to them that I was a diversion. I would help them run away from who they were, by being me. I was the mess that coagulated like too much fat from a cheeseburger, or the way my cat licks water loudly and my refrigerators hums like an overweight maid with haemorrhoids.