Author diaries

[Previous entry: "The future of books"] [Main Index] [Next entry: "No Coverage"]

13 May 2007 Entry: "A Cold Caller"

I went to check my Diamond Twig PO Box today and received three letters, all from the same person, containing one poem each, all hand written on lined file paper, no covering letter, no return postage, nothing; although this mysterious person (no title to indicate whether male or female) did put their address on each page.

What am I to make of this?
A more ruthless editor would put it straight in the bin, I suspect, and I am torn. Half of me is frustrated and cross, the other half wants to reach out and do some explaining. So I have been writing my reply in my head as I’ve gone about my day.

“Dear G from Hadaway, Let me ask you this:
If you had just joined a carpentry class, would you send your first table or chair that you made, to be sold at a furniture shop?
What makes you think that poems are different?

I received yours today - hand written, misspelled, unpunctuated. If it was a table it would wobble, if it was a chair it would be uncomfortable, we’d notice how badly it was made instead of enjoying sitting, unaware of the joints. This poem is not fit for purpose.
Do you think a furniture maker builds a chair, never having studied one?
Did you read any poems before you sat down to write your own?
How long do you think it takes to learn the skills of a cabinet maker?

The theme of your poem is the beauty of nature, you write in your sixteen lines that is that it is ‘lovely’, the trees are tall, the sky is blue, the clouds are white, that it is our heritage. What can I say? That this is a revelation to me? No, obviously not.

There is nothing wrong with taking nature as a theme, many poets have done so in the past, but that means that you must work even harder to find something arresting, unique, surprising and personal to put into your writing, to make it interesting for the reader...”

I could go on and on, and I’m sure this has all been written before by other critics, editors and poets who try to advise writers. And that is why I am torn. Diamond Twig exists to engage with new writers and audiences; I have met many people, who through lack of opportunity, have never studied literature beyond school, and know only one or two famous poems, usually from the nineteenth or early twentieth century.
Introducing them to current poets and ideas is like turning a bright light on a shadowy corner - suddenly everything is bright, exciting, and hard.

Where do you begin if someone doesn’t know the difference between ‘poetry’ or ‘prose’? Has never heard of a cliché ? Thinks a story is half a side of A4 about how lovely their mum is?

It doesn’t mean that they should be sent away and not bothered with. That was probably their last educational experience. The communication of ideas is at the root of being human, it is our connection with others. Any attempt at engaging with writing should be taken seriously and assisted by those of us who have put ourselves in the position of tutors, publishers or editors. But.

Diamond Twig has a submissions policy, it is on our website for anyone to read before they post off their work. You would hope that any thoughtful and serious writer would take pains to ensure they approach a potential publisher in the way that will serve their interests best.
However, someone who sends hand-written work probably doesn’t have a computer and is unlikely to be a surfer of the net. In that case, I’d be interested to know where they found the details of this small press; they can obviously read and put pen to paper and have some nous.

You’d be surprised how many times I get letters saying:
“I have written a poem and would like to have it published”.
What is in the minds of such people ? what do they imagine will happen? That I will write back immediately:
“I love your poem, I will publish a book of it tomorrow” ?

I have a standard letter in my files, that tactfully points out the usual route to publication is:
1) evidence of reading poetry
2) evidence of a track record of publications in magazines and journals
3) evidence of having at least thirty to forty publishable poems

The letter also advises: join a local writing group or find a writing class
as I suspect most of the G’s from Hadaway are sitting at their kitchen table, all on their own and have never shown their work to anyone apart from their cat or lovely mum, neither of whom will be any great shakes at lit. crit.

Being in a supportive atmosphere with like-minded peers is a good place to start your learning curve. I don’t tell them that this will guarantee eventual publication, but I hope it will stop them wasting their postage stamps.