Poetry Channel #54
3/1/99
IN THIS EPISODE: 2.13.61, Incommunicado Press, Manic D Press, Joel Matthews, Albuquerque Poetry Festival, Sic Vice & Verse Magazine.Howdy!
There’s been all sorts of buzzbuzz going on about the recent happenings in the small press world. Henry Rollins’ press 2.13.61 is drastically cutting back its production schedule to concentrate exclusively on HR books. It left more than a few people disturbed and in a bit of a lurch. After all, 2.13.61 had just been named Best Small Press at the Firecracker Alternative Book Awards held during the Book Expo last year in Chicago. Their canceled titles left some writers suddenly shopping their manuscripts around.
I remember seeing Henry Rollins read at Bow Wow Records in 1986. He had these little handwritten xeroxed chapbooks that he and Joe Cole had stapled together in Henry’s garage. They were handwritten because he didn’t know how to type: it took too long, he said. It was really very sweet, but everything is much sweeter after some time has passed. At any rate, he had the fan base and the persistence to build a beautiful press from scratch. Of course, being a rock star helped.
Incommunicado Press moved from its digs in San Diego for the bright lights of the big city. Gary Hustwit is in New York now -- look out, literary scenesters, I think you’re about to meet your match. The press has a supercool line of books coming out; the clash of the coasts is going to go bam-bam-bam. Pleasant Gehman, Peter Plate and Jimmy Jazz are just a few of the SoCal writers being published in the series. I’m sure a lot of New York writers will kiss up to Gary to be a part of it and he’s going to love every minute, I hope. He also has plans to open a bookstore in a nightclub, but the question remains whether the hordes of ravers will spend their money buying books while there are perfectly good drugs around. I dunno, hard to say. I’d like to be optimistic. I once wanted to buy Green Day’s touring bookmobile and convert it into a mobile alternative bookstore.
So where does this upheaval leave the SoCal publishing scene? A little high and dry at the moment. You never realize how important someone is until they’re gone. In their absence I can only hope that some of the micropresses will step up their production and distribution of regional writers. Hell, maybe Madonna will start a press. Jewel’s book of poetry* did very well, I understand. You never know who’s going to get into the publishing business, but some pals wonder why anyone would want to.
“I’ll tell you what happened. The publishers got tired. They were burned out making no money and having to put up with petulant authors who have no understanding of how little money there is in publishing, tired of competing with multinational behemoth corporations for limited retail shelf space, and sick of being besieged by wanna-be authors who have never purchased a single one of their books. So why the hell would anyone want to be a small press publisher?” That last part came from Manic D Press publisher Jen Joseph in her monthly column in the Bay Guardian. I laughed when I read it, even though I know it wasn’t funny. Jen doesn’t pull her punches.
Jen is busy wrapping up Marci Blackman’s novel Po Man's Child* (When Marci read an excerpt of it in Albuquerque, she held the packed room rapt in her voice and imagery), as well as The Underground Guide to Los Angeles* which the tiara darling Pleasant Gehman edited. (She came to the first Albuquerque Poetry Festival with Iris Berry and S.A. Griffin.)
Yes, the Albuquerque Poetry Festival just happened this week. I checked it out for a few days. I had to pull back dramatically. I had carried this project so far I almost missed the weight around my neck. But, truly, it isn’t my gig anymore, and everyone was respectful of my space. And it turned out it was just as well that I flew back early Saturday for a hot date -- otherwise I might have made good on my threat to make Danny Solis into tamales. How in the world could I know that as the emcee and intermission performer he would commandeer the Superslam into his personal show? (Insert blank look here.) Duh. Hello, it’s Danny Solis we’re talking about here, god bless him. “Juliette, how could you say such a thing?” some pals are asking, “You bitch.” “Easy,” I say. “It’s just the dance Danny and I do, and let me assure you, it’s not the lambada.” Hey, the little voice tugging at my jeans leg says, Albuquerque isn’t your gig anymore. I know, I know, I need to remind myself. I’m just a huge freak about the show and the time and not playing Last One Standing with the audience. (Sometimes I think Henry tends to do that. Jello definitely does.) I heart a solid production where all the participants leave feeling sated but not stuffed like turkeys and feeling verbal indigestion. But actually, I think it was the stuffed turkeys and all the trimmings after the slam at 2:30 in the morning that re-established Danny Solis as the hospitality king. His mole sauce invokes forgiveness. And truly, he is a big hearted guy. As long as you’re on his team.
As much fun as Danny is to talk about, there were plenty of other cool things that happened at Albuquerque. I stayed at Joel Matthews’ house along with Jon Longhi, Kristine Anstine and Stephen Spyrit. (Thanks Joel, for everything!) Joel was a wonderful host. He didn’t even mind when we broke into his place after we were locked out. How many poets does it take to break into a house? Umm, about sixteen. We had gathered from all over the country to jimmy Joel’s window and send one of the Chicago poets through.
Joel had waited for us for half an hour when he decided the party must have moved, decided to meet some friends and left the door locked behind him. We must have been pulling up just as he was driving off in the opposite direction. Too bad -- he would have been the life of the party, running around shouting, “Buy one of my chapbooks! It’s all about me! Buy one of my chapbooks!” (He runs an indie multi media store, Nob Hill Books & Music, by day.) As it was, his home was overrun with poets drinking bottom shelf vodka until the wee hours of the morning. (Thanks to Kristine for having the foresight to buy some booze before closing.) A lot of old and new pals, mostly from Chicago, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Seattle, Portland, Austin, New York and Albuquerque.
It was beautiful. I love the poet parties. Looking at one couch and seeing Sini Anderson sitting with Noel Franklin, Beth Lisick and Jeff McDaniel. Shappy’s in the kitchen, being Shappy. (Kristine and I swear he’s separated at birth from New York cartoonist Sam “Humor Can Be Funny” Henderson.) Greg Gillam was there (we sent him through the window) with Jason Pettus, Phil West was looking blonde and happy (he just announced that he and his girlfriend Michelle are engaged!), Edwin Torres was a joy to see whenever I spied him. (The kids at Albuquerque High loved him. The Sister Spit girls stunned them.) Ellyn Maybe laughed a lot (ask her about the elderly mean-tempered senile dog who helped himself to her graham crackers out of her bag, growling menacingly every time she got near). Bucky “Mr. Sinister if you’re nasty” was looking suave in his black feather boa and vinyl pants. Stephen Spyrit was collaborating with Lynn Breedlove. Annika Rhinehart and Daphne Gottlieb gained tons of new admirers and Jon Longhi even got some fanboy action.
Joe Ray Sandoval had his first chapbook debut during the festival. Jeff McDaniel published it. (Joe Ray threw some great readings in Santa Fe; everyone just raved about what a great time it was.) Shappy and Jason Pettus organized a Nrrds Reading that was totally enjoyable. One thing the Albuquerque Poetry Festival has consistently is love and cookies. Lisa Gill, Mitch and Donna Rayes, Marisa Thompson, Bob Monson, Traci Paris, Esther Griego, Ken Hunt, Maria Leyba, Wayne Klick and The Outsider were all there and in the groove of things. It was delightful to see. Did I tell you that Eirean Bradley won the Superslam? (His mom was there this year. Last year, his dad came to Albuquerque.) New York looks great on Jim Stewart. I guess Eirean will be staying with Jim for a while -- he’s moving to NYC after a year with the homies in Albuquerque. Jim says he sees Hal Sirowitz all the time. I totally missed Matt Conley and Kenn Rodriguez but the days of Two Beans and a Cracker are long gone. Kenn didn’t move; he’s just a working man these days -- at my old haunt no less -- and didn’t get out of work until the midnight hour.
Yes, it was a wonderful thing, though passing strange for me. But I know I leave the project in the best hands and the festival can only grow and flourish. Thanks to Judyth Hill for conjuring up grant money for our fledgling high school program. Every year more and more poets will vie for the opportunity to read in front of a few hundred high school students at 9 a.m. in the morning. It’s my favorite reading series of the whole festival, actually. I like the idea of turning kids on to poetry and showing them all that is possible. The festival is perfect because you suddenly have all these different voices in one place. I’m still working on my content issues -- I feel really protective of the kids and the teachers and sometimes I think poets don’t know their own power.
You know who else I saw? Wammo! His band was playing in town and he stopped by and hung out with the pals. (Rumor has it he’s performing tonight in San Francisco, but I’m already in my slippers. If I go out, I’d have to go to Kinko’s anyway. Bruce Jackson is in the same reading but he’s learned to stop expecting me anywhere.) Gary Glazner was also there. He looked happy. He and his wife Margaret have concluded their trip around the world and are actually contemplating relocating to New Mexico. Wouldn’t that be fun? And I’m hearing a little buzzbuzz that Patricia Smith is thinking about the same thing. Can I believe my ears? It sounds so promising. Gary and I didn’t talk too much; I think we were both avoiding the uncomfortable topic of what happened to the San Francisco teams at the slam nationals in Austin. I think I heard too much and he’s heard enough.
The Sic Vice & Verse folks read at Vesuvio’s on Sunday. It coincided with the Chinese New Year parade half a block away & was sure to be a memorable time. Rafael Alvarado has a key to the house from last time he stayed here. I figured he and his pals would let themselves in while I was at the Alternative Press Expo in San Jose.
That’s it for now. I’m trying to make Poetry Channel shorter and more often, but things more than often get in the way. If you want to comment or write, please address it to me: sofasurf@usa.net. If you want to subscribe or unsubscribe, please do so at http://poetry.about.com. (Thanks Margery!). I’ll have plenty of dish after this weekend plus lineup on the parties happening during the Book Expo. And Carl Hanni sent me something, something I was supposed to say but that piece of paper is somewhere in this room and I haven’t seen it or my jury duty letter for a while now.
xox Juliette Torrez
Check out these recent features if you haven't been here lately:
- The News in Poetry 99: Robert Creeley Wins the Bollingen Prize! A cause for great celebration. . . Let us pause to praise and then let us party.
- The Adventures of Book Waitress -- Eve Stern tells the story of National Poetry Month in the Peace Corps, teaching Literature as a Foreign Language in Suburbia.
- All Together Now! Touring Switzerland with Le Cirque Electrique: The story of two American poets who ran away to join a Swiss rock'n'roll circus.
And don't forget to stop in for POETRY CHAT hosted by the Lioness Kim Holzer, Wednesday, March 10, 10 pm Eastern time, 9 pm Central, 7 pm Pacific. Spring is on its way, so we're going to ask this question in chat: How do the seasons affect your writing? When are you most prolific? Come & join in the conversation!
*As a result of a commercial relationship between About.com, its Guides and Amazon.com online booksellers, these titles can be purchased directly from Amazon.com by following the link above. (Note: Amazon.com is solely responsible for fulfillment of book orders placed through these links.)
