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And this is how it went ...

5/30/2013

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The four-day Clockwork Alchemy Convention was exceptionally fun.   I've attended many Sci-Fi and Fantasy conventions, but this Steampunk event was a very genial affair, with gentlemen and ladies strolling amiably through the lobby, halls, and convention rooms.  This was this group's second Steampunk convention, and a job well done!  

Sales of Echoes, Neo-Victorian Poetry, at my shared Author's Table, did very well, covering the cost of publishing and a bit more.  A modest success is far better than none at all, but getting this book into circulation was the plan.  I'm also still selling the few copies that remained after the convention.  Not bad for a first attempt.

Classic Victorian Poetry Today: The Awakening of Steampunk, which is the first panel I've ever conducted, also went well.  Though Friday panels tend to be lightly attended, as was mine, the discussion was lively, two-way, and informative on all sides.  I learned many things in trade.  

A main topic at the panel involved the validity of rhyming, iambic pentameter poetry today.  We discussed the modern prosaic trend in poetry, which was held at bay by the romantic poets until about  the time of The Great War of 1914.  I spoke on how prose blossomed into acceptance in reaction to that horrendous war, which fractured twentieth century society.

Someone mentioned a documentary they had seen on the oral poetry tradition that is practiced among Japanese families in Hawaii.  She added that reading was an oral tradition in earlier times.  Someone else referred to a movie about the poet John Keats, titled Bright Star (2009).  It was thrilling to witness such informed involvement, which kept the panel moving in perfect circles of discussion.   

Given my experience with this panel, and with how well Echoes was received, I am encouraged that the timing of both was spot on.  That people would stand before my table and seriously critique Echoes, as did one brilliant young lady, (thank you, Barbara), is a marvel to me, and most wonderfully welcome.

It is so gratifying to see an interest in my work, and to have a printed book of my poems to share.  Next step: choose, edit, and otherwise ready more of my poems for a new book.  For now, I need to go to the post office and mail a signed copy of Echoes to someone who could not attend the convention.  That's one more copy of Echoes out there in the world.
 

  
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This Steampunk convention ...

5/26/2013

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Today was day three at the Clockwork Alchemy Convention for Echoes and me.  The reception of Echoes, Neo-Victorian Poetry at my table has been pretty wonderful.  Several Steampunk fans picked up my book and sampled a page or two.  Someone read one of my poems aloud to me, (very much to my delight), and several copies were purchased on the spot. 

Forgive me if I'm being a tad redundant here, but I still find it odd that, until very recently, I didn't even realize that my work fits into the Steampunk genre.  I was made aware of this by my daughter, Emily, who wrote the Steampunk adventure novel, Clockwork Twist.  So, even though I've been an avid fan of Steampunk all along, but I didn't see this coming. What a cool surprise!

Another sweet surprise for me was that my panel, "Classic Victorian Poetry Today: The Awakening of Steampunk," went very well.  Those in attendance seemed to enjoy what turned out to be an open symposium, and their smart questions and articulate comments helped to guide me through it.   Thus, I am very happy about how it all turned out.

With one more day at the convention to go, I have less than half of my books still on hand to sell, and not a single business card left  to share.  I count this as no small measure of success, especially since the author's tables are in an area well away from the vendor's room.  That the panels are held close to our tables is a huge help, though.

My anticipation of "Tomorrow," it turns out, was not something to be dreaded after all.  I am truly enjoying interacting with these Steampunk fans, most of whom are lovers of the written word.  That so many have demonstrated their appreciation of my work is way beyond gratifying.  So, come as you will, "Tomorrow."  Let's have a bit more fun!     




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Waiting for "Tomorrow"

5/22/2013

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"Tomorrow" is approaching way too quickly.  What's the hurry?  Slow down ,"Tomorrow," I have so much to prepare before your arrival.  Take a nap, chill a while, but please just slow down!

With the Clockwork Alchemy Convention only a few days away, my heart beats a bit faster each time I survey my preparations, thus far: handouts ready to print, business license acquired, copies of Echoes packed, logistics figured out ... wrapping my brain around the idea that I will be on a panel?  I'm still working on this last one.

Facilitating and observing author panels is not new to me.  I've had many opportunities to do both at the San Francisco Writers Conference, year after year.  This time, however, I am the panel, and there will be no moderator present, which makes it more of a symposium.

The title of this upcoming panel is "Classic Victorian Poetry Today: The Awakening of Steampunk," which will focus on the relevance of writing "traditional" verse in the twenty-first century.  "Traditional" in this case refers to poetic styles that predate the "Era of Modernism."  Feels like pretty heady stuff, to me.
  
To paraphrase Dr. McCoy, "I'm a poet, not a historian!"  However, my poetry does reflect the Cyberpunk and Steampunk eras as I internalized them.  So, I'll be speaking from that specific conceptual framework so as not to step on the toes of those who know these eras well.

For now, I need to resume editing my notes, and tidying up all those little last-minute odds and ends that keep trying to flag me down on my way to being ready.  Alas, I know all too well that  there's no putting off "Tomorrow." 



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So many poems

5/18/2013

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Gathering scraps of poetry, penciled on napkins and paper bags and such, is a two edged sword.  It's illuminating to follow the progress of a piece from it's infancy to a completed form, but it also leads to much more clutter in my files.  I'm on the verge of taking photos of every single scribble and tossing out the various fragments of paper, but there is something very comforting in the tactile sense of them.

Unfortunately, I have lost track of some of my poems.  They are waiting, somewhere, in a pocket portfolio for me to find.  Moving from dwelling to dwelling was fraught with disorder, especially since I was in a hurry to just get it done.  I am happy to have recovered my box of poems, but when I look through it, I remember the ones that are not there. 

With so many of my poems now in hand, I looked at Echoes the other day and thought, "With so many poems in my arsenal, why is Echoes a tad on the light side?"  Ah, and then I remembered that this is because Echoes is an introductory volume, and was tailored to a specific audience.  From the selection of poems, to the choice of font and cover design, Echoes leans decidedly towards those who love the Steampunk genre.


I am planning to release other, larger collections of my work as time allows, but at this point, Echoes has all of my attention.  Though visions of my future books whirl around and around in the background of my mind, they have no set definition yet.  Today, they are mere rectangles of varying color and size, and they are most definitely coming one day soon ... as soon as I lay my hands of the poems I wish to include from the contents of that pocket portfolio.





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When to go to print ...

5/15/2013

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How does an author, or a poet, decide when to finally release a book?  Is there something that specifically signals to them that it's time to print?   Is it simply that their manuscript is finally deemed ready by the author and available editors?  And is there a reason why a finished volume would wait for release?

I've heard of authors holding onto their subsequent books as a matter of timing, wanting to keep their audiences interested.  Apparently, too many books released too soon could be problematic to keeping their fan base alive.  I have wondered about this regarding my own books-to-be, as well.

As to Echoes, it was a matter of keeping an eye on the readership climate.  For many, many years, my work was considered passe and out of it's time.  Prose was dominating the printing presses and open mike readings when I first learned my craft.  Until now, there didn't appear to be an interest in poems that rhyme, and the like.

Echoes went to print as soon as it became apparent that there might be an audience for it: namely those who enjoy the  Steampunk genre.  It took the obvious emergence of devotees to Victoriana to coax When None Command and The Train out of my "box of poetry," but at last, I felt that I could dare to share my work with those who value the Neo-Victorian mindset and all its trappings.

As to the other books I intend to publish, I will not be waiting long to do so.  Echoes is a good first attempt at testing the current readership waters, and the responses I've received to this volume so far have encouraged me to share more of my work.  My perception is that now is the time for poems that rhyme, and I am readying to launch on this new wave that I see looming before me.

Echoes, after all, is not a novel, and neither will my other books fit into that niche.  And so, I have the freedom to publish whenever a finished volume is ready.  As soon as the Clockwork Alchemy Convention is in my rearview mirror I'll set to work  on a book that I'm tentatively titling Reverberations.

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The poetry room.

5/10/2013

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There is a writer's conference that I attend almost every year as a volunteer.  It's an exhilarating experience to habitate amid authors, agents, and publishers from nearly every genre imaginable for an entire weekend.  Being situated in a hotel makes this a working vacation, and my position there gives me a unique advantage; I get to be both a facilitator and a visitor at this event.

A few years ago, I decided to attend the panels In the Poetry Room.  I listened to the two presenters, (aka teachers), as they dialogued on and on about prose and on writing.  I did the writing exercises they prescribed, and decided that I would stand up and read a poem or two when the time came for open mike at the podium.

Realizing early on that the gist of these "teachings" were primarily focused on prose, I knew that I had to tread carefully.  I, after all, was a rhyming poet, I was on their turf, and I was outnumbered in a room full of writers of prose.  I did as best I could to give every evidence in my manner that I was one of them so that they might let me stay.

Then the open mike sessions began, and I felt fear!  I was about to give myself away.  As I sat there waiting my turn, prose after prose was read aloud by the other students in the room.  Each piece was sincerely critiqued by the teachers, as well as by other students in the room.  And then, it was my turn at the podium.

Realizing how nervous I was about reading aloud, my husband and my daughter had decided to join me that day, for emotional support.  I hesitantly left their company, approached the front of the room with my printed poem quivering in my grasp, and I began to read.  The poem I read was decidedly not a work in prose.

I'm not very good at reading my poetry out loud.  I did my best to look composed and to articulate clearly, but i know that I failed in both.  Having finished reading, I returned to my seat to await the critiques that were about to come my way.  The room was hushed and still, and my anxiety continued to swell.

To be fair, they didn't see it coming, but the teachers did their level best to give a clean appraisal of what they'd just heard.  One of them illustrated an arc in the air, saying that I had started "here," had made this steady shape, and had ended perfectly.  "That's very hard to do!" they said.

Later on, I read another of my rhyming poems, and received an almost identical response as before.  Again, the arc in the air was drawn, and  it was stressed that what I had done is very difficult to do.  I read a third poem in that room.  It was a very romantic poem that I'd written for my husband.  This one got a very different critique.


"You simply cannot use the word love over and over in a poem," was their overriding reaction to My Heart Upon a Loom.  They emphasised this one point for several minutes as I quietly listened and nodded.  And then I heard my family suppressing their giggles.  "Mom," my daughter whispered to me, "the word love isn't in that poem!"

She was correct, and I suddenly realized that I had succeeded in getting across what I had intended to in that poem: my  love for my husband came through cleanly and clearly in that piece without ever once using the words, "I love you."  It was a huge success, though not in the eyes of the teachers.

Later, a woman who had stood and read her prose that day took me gently by the arm as I was walking by.  "Thank you," she whispered.  "I used to write like that, too, but I thought we weren't supposed to.  Now I know it's okay!  Thank you!"   All that afternoon her words clung to me.  I decided then to someday publish my work, if only to encourage other would-be rhymers to do what they yearn to do.

Thank you, gentle
 poetess, wherever you are!



 
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In a Box

5/8/2013

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There is an box that sits near my desk.  Along one side, years ago, I had labeled the box as "Poems."  Within this box are many of my finished pieces, as well as the sketches and scribbles which show my process of working out of my work.  Now and then I open this box and revisit what I've written, asking myself the following:

Is it good?
Does it feel forced in any way?
Does it have depth?
Is it finished?

A few times along the way, someone has asked, "Are you sure it's finished?  It doesn't look like it to me."  In one case in particular, having I heard these critiques out, and questioned the work, mulling it over and over, I knew that that poem  was complete.  In time, those who thought it otherwise returned to say, "Yeah, it is complete.  You were right."  It was immensely gratifying to know that I had stayed the correct course.

However, I can sense it in my core when something is amiss, though I may have no idea what is wrong with my poem..  That's usually about the time when someone will point to a word or a phrase and ask me, "Are you sure?"   I'll search till I understand the fault, then struggle with the it until I finally find the remedy.  It's so important that I do.  

In truth, although criticism tends to sting initially, I am ever grateful to any and all editors, whether their observations prove to be  right or wrong.  Still, in the end, I am the poet, and the final judgement of a work rests with me.  I strive to be absolutely certain, from my deepest being, that the poem stands as it should, because I must, for that is how this game is played. 













  
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Giving it away ...

5/5/2013

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I met up with a close friend over coffee today.   She had asked to buy three copies of Echoes, signed.  As we sipped away at our Cappuccinos, I offered her one copy, without charge, in exchange for her objective review on amazon.com.  She was delighted.  I can use the reviews much more than the few dollars I make on each sale of Echoes.

Later today, my brother, and his girlfriend came by, bringing bags of farm-fresh fruit to share.  I rarely see my brother, as he lives several hours away from me.  I proudly showed them a copy of Echoes, and they both beamed and beamed with pride for me.  It soon became apparent that they would love a signed copy, also.  I mentioned the cost a copy of Echoes, and that they could pay me at some other time with a cup of coffee, somewhere.  

And now I'm feeling very awkward ... torn, actually.  The main purpose for printing my poems was to be able to share them in a real book, and to satisfy the frequent question of, "Have you published yet".  Making money off of my friends and family never occurred to me until I actually paid for a boxful of Echoes.  (Hmm; a box full of Echoes.  I must use that in a poem someday)  So, getting Echoes out there and into other hands should be my focus ... shouldn't it?

Since that day with my brother, I have been retooling my thoughts on cost vs "giving it away."  I've been slowly coming to the conclusion that a cup of coffee, or a review, or even some luscious fresh fruit, in exchange for a copy of Echoes, will do.  Again, this isn't about money, but rather in reaping even some small remuneration.  After all, free = "of no worth" in many minds, and I seriously don't want to go there.








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    About the author:

    I've written many poems over the years.  This blog is a preview of my books: Echoes, Neo-Victorian Poetry (April 2013), Echoes ll, More Neo-Victorian Poetry (May 2014), Echoes lll, Even More Neo-Victorian Poetry, (August 2016), A Compilation of Echoes. (September 2016), and When None Command (April 13, 2019)

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