Jessica
Poet writes own press release, feels uncomfortable writing about self in third person.
Minneapolis, MN – November 16, 2010
The poet is not uncomfortable with words. She prefers them to most other things in life. But today, she has to dig through dictionaries and thesauruses, to pluck out the words she never wants to use. She has to learn to use words like purchase, discount, and buy. She is gritting her teeth. She is doing her best.
The poet gets nauseous around numbers. She can tick syllables off her fingers faster than most can count to one hundred. Put a dollar sign in front of them, and it’s all over. But that’s not exactly right. She has no qualms with the dollar signs in front of her expenditures. She doesn’t mind the thousands she’s invested in books, pens, notebooks, degrees, and even the project. These are taken out of her with no remorse. It’s the figure she asks for: the dollar sign, numerals and decimal point that make her sick. The numbers swim in front of her, float past her reach.
The poet prefers anonymity, but she still wants you to buy her book. She wants you to buy it without having to ask, like the wife who wants her husband to do the dishes because he wants to do the dishes. (In real life, the poet rarely does dishes. She writes instead.) She wants her work out in the world, but really she wants to release them. She wants them to be someone else’s problems now. The poet wants the poems to live lives of their own, outside of her head. She wants to see them someday, on someone else’s reading list, and barely recognize them.
The poet wonders about the provenance of the words: publish, press and release. She traces publish back to public, populous, and people. Words that she knows only in the abstract. She links press to pressure, feels the weight of it on her skin. And then, she thinks about release and feels that weight dissipate in the air. She feels it alight on someone else, carrying the eighty-seven pages of poems that she just wants that someone else to take home.
***
This post was inspired, of course, by my gross attempts at writing a press release for Blameless Mouth yesterday. In my frustration, I tweeted the title line and Dave Bonta encouraged me to use it as a blog post. Of course, I had to agree.
It’s strange to me that poets have to be involved in the publicity of their own work, whether the poet publishes with a press or becomes her own press. I feel like this isn’t a skill that anyone taught me, in my two writing degrees. (In fact, there was a good post yesterday about the dangers of young writers getting involved in the publication process without knowing more about the process.) But I also think, as a poet, that it’s my responsibility to toughen up and do the work.
So, I did some research yesterday and received some sample press releases from two generous friends. And now, today or the next day, I have to grit my teeth and write it. Because that’s the only way that it’s going to get done.
