The Hermit Poet

I’m pleased to announce that Boxcar Poetry Review Issue 15 is now
up and available online.  Lots of wonderful work in this issue –
please do check it out!

Read it at www.boxcarpoetry.com

In this issue:

Poetry

• Sumita Chakraborty: “Cabinet of Natural Curiosities”
• Mark DeCarteret: “Beddy-Bye”
• John W. Evans: “Apocalypto”
• Matthew Gavin Frank: “The First Word I Whisper”
• Rebecca Givens: “Hospital Room: View One”
• Aya Ibrahim: “Said the Sea”
• Clyde Kessler: “Roanoke Island”
• William Reichard: “First Morning”
• Michael Schmeltzer: “Cholera, Drowning, and the Firstborn You Wished For”
• Lafayette Wattles: “I Couldn’t Tell Which Were The Thoughts And Which Were The Trees”

Photography

• Brian Price (two untitled images)

Reviews

• Review of Anne Shaw’s “Undertow” ~ Cindy Cunningham
• Review of Anna Leahy’s “Constituents of Matter” ~ Lori D’Angelo

I’ll probably go into more detail once I’ve finished working on my own (which is turning out to be more complicated and involved a process than I expected).  For now though, here are some of the things I’m learning as I study other writers’ statements and my own earlier written comments on this book and my writing in general.

From Heidi Lynn Staples (author of Dog Girl - Ahsahta Press):

What I enjoy most in an artistic statement are an account of the writer’s process and descriptive comments illuminating the work. What I dislike most are divisive assertions of aesthetic allegiance and grand proclamations.

I think this is good counsel.  Statements which move into the grandiose or partisan tend to divide and alienate.  People don’t care about your allegiances (at least they shouldn’t), they should be brought into the world of the author and the making of the book — and feel some connection there.  An author’s statement reveals the human side of the author and sheds light on how the book came to be or the concerns which guided it into existence.

Ethan Paquin in his author’s statement for The Violence (also from Ahsahta Press) begins by noting his own dislike of discussing his own work, but follows up with this passage:

All my poetry owes to bigger and better things than poetry: the natural world, painting and sculpture and architecture, spirituality. All my poetry is informed by things deeper than poetry: love, loss of love, ruinous relationships, redeemed relationships, the bond between a landscape and a man, between a man and his children, between a man and art.

This is illuminating for me.  From this brief passage, I already know to expect these elements and themes in Ethan’s work.  And, where not apparent, to know that the poems on some level are engaging these ideas and may require further contemplation.

What is an author’s statement?  It’s what accompanies the book when it’s sent out for reviews as part of the press kit.  It’s your chance to say why and how the book was written, how it’s changed you, and perhaps where you and it may go from here.

It need not be long or complicated, but the process of coming to a good statement can be difficult.  It’s humbling.  Perhaps it means saying those things you haven’t even admitted to yourself yet.  Certainly it requires you to have some perspective, to be able to stand outside of the text you’ve dedicated so much time to and spent so long inside.

More to come.

(Also long overdue — here’s my post on blurbs)

If you’re like me, when you’re working on your manuscript, book blurbs and author statements are usually the furthest things from your mind. Your attention is on the poems and rightly so.

Once the book has been accepted, suddenly there is a mad scramble to line up your blurbs — which can often be something of a crap shoot — you just don’t know how people are going to respond, what they’ll write, and when they’ll turn it in.

Some things you should consider in advance:

1. Blurbs from people you know - In general, this is the route that is taken. Most blurbs come from former or current professors, close personal writer friends, or long-time professional acquaintances. The good thing about doing this is that generally these people know what you stand for, what your project was about, and are willing to devote time and energy to write something compelling. However, sometimes these blurbs can seem less than genuine or suspect if a potential reader feels that the writer’s connection to these individuals is too close or tainted in some other way. It’s impossible to satisfy everyone, so if you go this route, it’s in your interest to choose people that will appear above the board and whose opinions are widely respected.
2. Blurbs from people you don’t know or who you respect, but have no personal connection with - This is a tougher way to go, but does mean you can hopefully count on a more unbiased response to your work. If you go this route, choose someone whose work has meant something to you in your development as a writer. This makes it easier to approach them — you can honestly tell them that you have admired their work for some time and that you feel that they might enjoy reading an advance copy of the book. Send a short selection of poems from the manuscript and ask if they would be willing to look at the book and if they enjoy it, possibly write something on its behalf. Do this early in the editing process. Even if you have to send a binder-clipped copy of manuscript, send it early enough that this person has time to reflect on it. After a few weeks, check in with them to see if they have received the manuscript and if they would be willing to write a blurb. The more well-known the author, the busier they are likely to busy — be prepared for them to turn down the invitation and thank them nonetheless. Have some backup plans in place. This is why you started early.
3. Let your blurbers know their deadlines and follow up. This is key. If they know when you need the blurbs, they can plan for it. If there is no fixed deadline, then they may put it aside and not get to it. Regardless what the actual deadline is with your press / editor, you should build in a buffer and set an earlier date with your blurb writers. This way you can appear generous if they ask for a little more time
4. Create a brief description or synopsis of the book (if possible, several). This can help a blurb writer (especially one unfamiliar with your work) a general sense of what your book is about and why it might interest them. You’ll need to be able to describe your book in a few sentences anyway — it’s part of the short sell that you’ll be giving whenever someone asks, “So what’s your book about anyway?”  Sometimes I tell people:  “My book moves between narrative and lyric in its exploration of loss, exile, and return as it pertains to the loss and recovery of countries, languages, and family.”  I might follow up with something more personal.  In a different audience, I might mention its strong elegiac turns or its preoccupation with travel. Or maybe its concern with memory and forgetting. Or maybe tell the story of how it became an unintended elegy of sorts for my father who was dying even as I was finishing and revising the book — and whose passing ultimately shaped the book into what it became. Or maybe how it’s a love story about loss. Depending on your audience, you should have a variety of ways to talk about your book.
5. Keep your blurbs to a maximum of 3. Really. Sometimes less is more. Try to keep them at a reasonable size as well — if the blurb is too long, a potential buyer isn’t likely to read all of it. Keep the long version on the website — along with any extra unused blurbs and reviews.
6. Consider what audiences each of your blurb writers will bring. Your blurb writers should help a reader triangulate where you and your writing fall. You are an unknown, but hopefully your blurb writers are known to your reader (or least their tastes can be surmised). If you write primarily narrative free verse poetry and have blurbs from avant garde language poets or new formalist poets, regardless of how good the blurbs are, you are creating confusion for a potential buyer. There’s a clear disconnect and the wrong audiences are being attracted — simultaneously, your best potential buyers are missing the connection. If there is a range of approaches in your book, then try to have blurbs from poets with a range of styles.

A poem for my late father, written several years ago after being inspired by a short image-rich email he sent me. Something about its brevity and omission spoke volumes about how much he missed having me at home. This Father’s Day was less about grieving and more about remembering, and perhaps even remembering to remember in new ways.

This past weekend I spent surrounded by tokens and symbols of heritage and culture, celebrated the diversity of the multi-racial experience, made many wonderful new friends and acquaintances, and in general felt very much a part of a community. Part of my ability to do so, to open up and accept, is the legacy of a father who cared enough about all our cultures and family histories to weave them into our lives in meaningful ways. He didn’t just observe, he embraced and he encouraged others to embrace what we hold in common and what sets us apart.

Thanks Dad.

Letter From Home

My father’s words
laid down
like old shoes
at a back door.

Worn out, grey,
or that distant pale
that night paints the world
just before dawn.

Not knowing
how far this road goes on
moving in slow circles
or sinking into crisp unfathomed snow.

My father sleeping
in long sighs, unaware
of the way a line disappears
at the edge of meaning.

How few words he takes
to recreate a world
in the mind of a son
longing for home.

The last remnants of trees
pulled from the earth
stay hidden for years
till the wind blows them free.

First published in Spillway

I’m reading in the afternoon today and tomorrow (readings start at 2 pm).

Location:

Japanese American National Museum
369 East First Street (Little Tokyo)
Los Angeles, CA

I spent the last few days tinkering and redesigning some of the elements of my website. The big changes? A new image for the splash screen and a major update to the Book section (new blurb added from Terrance Hayes, more information about the cover design, and yes - finally - an image of the front cover).

Check it out here: www.neil-aitken.com

Looking back over the last few weeks and the close of this semester, there are a number of wonderful things to report:

1. The semester is over — as much as I loved and/or learned from my classes, I am grateful for a break. This past week has been a nice vacation from, well, pretty much everything. Finals week was not so restful — I wrote a 20 page paper in 48 hours on 5 hours of sleep, then followed it up by laying out the new issue of Boxcar Poetry Review (which I’m happy to report was only 1 day late despite the circumstances).
2. Thanks to the Writer&Composer class (it paired up graduate poets and graduate music composers for original collaborations), I’ve had the pleasure to work with some fantastic people and to hear some incredible work. At one point I took the opportunity to hear some of their out of class compositions which were being performed at an on-campus recital and was struck by how lucky we were to work with these composers. Our class also worked together with performance singing class, so we had the opportunity to hear the compositions as they were completed. I worked with three composers for the longer compositions. Zhou Tian (www.zhoutian.org) set an older poem of mine called “Elegy” which had never seemed quite finished (I liked the words, but it always felt incomplete) — and transformed it into a haunting piece for piano and voice. Juhi Bansal created a longer piece from “Halfway”, one of the poems in The Lost Country of Sight, which used piano, percussion, cello, and voice — a gorgeous gorgeous piece. Ivor Francis took up the challenge and created a harp, piano, vibraphone, and two-voice opera suite based on “array” one of the many lyric computer poems in the Babbage’s Dream manuscript - a startling and amazing performance, I was quite riveted. Stay tuned for more — we hope to work on a number of other projects through the next year or so.
3. My poem “An Hour Before I Arrive, I See Home” has been picked up by Pebble Lake Review!
4. I’ve already purchased my table at AWP Chicago and booked my hotel space (1 block from the conference hotel, $84/night!). I should start looking at flights to Chicago in the near future as well — given the way the prices are rising, there might not be any good deals left by the end of the year.

As always, stay well. I hope to be blogging more regularly. I’ve put together a schedule of sorts for my day-to-day activities so that I use this summer somewhat effectively. I finally got back on the treadmill this morning after almost 2.5 months of inactivity (this past semester proved especially demanding on my morning time). I hope to lose the extra 10 pounds I picked up in the meantime and get back to my end of February weight.

Still on the schedule today — finish reviewing the editorial suggestions on my book manuscript. Mostly she’s noted minor grammar or punctuation issues, but occasionally there are bigger concerns (”you use ‘grey’ an awful lot, perhaps you might reconsider whether it’s the right word in each case?). “Grey” has does have significance for me — it’s a hybrid color, a color of between-ness, a chromatic transformation. But she’s right, perhaps there are other ways to render that — while I probably won’t change most of them, there may be places that a word change would be helpful.

My blurb post is not forgotten. It will appear this week.

(Apologies for those eagerly waiting for the issue — I tried to finish it last night, but layout was taking longer than expected and I had a late start on the issue thanks to my semester-end paper on Marianne Moore’s relationship to Chinese aesthetics).

Anyway, the issue is up and full of delightful things.

www.boxcarpoetry.com

In this issue:

Poetry

• Derek Henderson: “The Road Along St. Jude’s”
• Tammy Ho: “Elegy to a Brother Who Wrote Autobiographical Poems”
• Mara Michael Jebsen: “Summer Office With a Small View of Grand Central”
• Christina Kallery: “Boogie Nights: A Sestina”
• Julianna McCarthy: “How It Was”
• Michelle Menting: “The Bundling Board”
• Kevin Oberlin: “The Doctor Attempts to Heal His Sister Through Her Own Beauty”
• Matthew Olzmann: “While Scratching My Wife’s Back, I Calculate the Distance Between Sky and Earth”
• Doug Ramspeck: “Stillborn”
• Lafayette Wattles: “Sometimes a Deer is Just a Deer”

Interviews & Conversations

• History, Reconciliation, and Form: Amaud J. Johnson & Douglas Kearney
• Behind the Book with Jay Leeming ~ Matthew Thorburn

Reviews

• Andrew Kozma’s City of Regret ~ Amanda Lleshdedaj
• Christopher Patton’s Ox ~ Diane Schenker
• Purvi Shah’s terrain tracks ~ Soham Patel

Photography

from the editor’s files

Enjoy!

Traveling Through the Prairies,
I Think of My Father’s Voice

How we must have seemed like twins over the phone,
my father speaking with my voice, I speaking with his.
Some strange accident of genetics or the unchecked influence

of mockingbirds and mimeographs. I have heard two trains sound
almost alike till they passed, like the one last night bending westward,
the other slowing to a halt, the earth shuddering in the dark between

while the stars held their place overhead, a thousand points of tin and fire.
Had it been day, I might have seen to the far faded edge of nowhere
or whatever town lies wakeless there. Here, the wind sounds the same

blown from any direction, full of dust, pollen, the deep toll of church bells
rung for mass, weddings, deaths. Coming through on the straight road,
the land seems especially bare this year, although the fields are still green

with new stalks of wheat, rye, canola. Someone has been taking down
the grain elevators one by one, striking their weathered wooden frames
from the skyline, leaving only small metal bins. The way the disease

took him by degrees, the body jettisoning what it could: his arms and legs,
his grin, his laugh, his voice. In the end, only his eyes—their steel doors
opening and closing while the storm rattled within—and his breath,

the body’s voice, repeating the only name it knew sigh after sigh,
a lullaby sung to a restless child on a heaving deck, a hush we only learn
in the quiet dark long after the boat has gone and the waves have ceased.

—————————————-
First published in Barn Owl Review #1

Meanwhile, back at the ranch… Neil enters the uncharted realm of his 34th year.

It’s been a good — almost phenomenal year — in many respects. A year of changes, transitions, recognitions, and surprises. A year too with its share of sadness and struggle. I’m grateful for everything and everyone that has into my way, though I do not pretend to understand it all.

Today was a relatively normal day. I worked on a project for my poetry & music composition class. We had a double celebration in my poetry workshop for me and my classmate Jessica who shares the same birthday — lots of food, drink, and banter. I spent a little time with friends afterward, then went back to my apartment to read and relax. I’ve actually done little to celebrate. And perhaps this year that’s fine. I miss my father. That too is normal. It’s been exactly a year since his passing.

I’ve been wondering what the best thing to do would be under these circumstances - how to celebrate my birthday and yet to honor the memory of my father. Tomorrow night (Tuesday) I’ll be giving a poetry reading with Jennifer Kwon Dobbs at Village Books in Pacific Palisades — and to me at least, that feels like the perfect way to combine both.

If you’re free and in LA or Santa Monica, please do stop by. Jennifer’s reading from her new book, Paper Pavilion. I’ll be reading from my forthcoming book, The Lost Country of Sight.  No cover charge, but buying books is much appreciated.

Tuesday April 22, 2008 — 7:30 PM
Neil Aitken & Jennifer Kwon Dobbs
Village Books
1049 Swarthmore Ave, Pacific Palisades, CA