Warning: rant enclosed.
This poem is about the despair a modern writer may feel, in this age of electronic communication and very accurate search engines.
At the same time that a writer desires to share his or her work with the world, he or she is stymied by this notion: most publishers demand that a work be “unpublished” in order to qualify for submission to be “published.” In the case of bloggers with even with the tiniest of followings, this requirement seems a bit harsh.
It is my understanding–though I am no expert, having been far too busy with my children to learn the intricacies of the publishing world–that many publications, especially newer ones, do make allowances for work that may have appeared only in the pages of a blog or newsletter. But apparently the fact that it appeared digitally at all can be problematic, perhaps for reasons of copyright exclusivity. I don’t know.
But I am pretty sure, in the olden days, if physical letters containing one’s writing were sent to friends, or read aloud to a small group, this would not be disqualifying. Today, a newsletter, which is merely an email sent to a few friends, could be considered publication. A blog post, such as this one, even if only read by a few, could condemn a poem to eternal silence. Or at least make it out of the question, for a traditional publisher to touch it.
This seems like too much of a burden on the modern writer. Either I do not share any of my work, and never find out if it resonates with anyone, or I share it, and give up all hope of reaching a wider audience.
It is only because of technological advances in search and the replacement of paper by electronic media, that we have this issue at all.
‘Nuff said.
I’d love to hear your own thoughts on the subject, and whether you think I am blowing things out of proportion, with this poem. Thanks, as always, for coming by to read.
I wrote a letter,
Sent a few
Small poems to a friend.
And in this act,
I sealed my Fate:
To not be read again.
The thirst of masses
For the New,
In times of restless Search,
Discourages
The bold, the few,
From sharing pretty words.
As fewer hold
The reigns of Power,
An author’s yield decreases.
As Those decide
What stays, what goes,
And grind us all to pieces,
We doodle
Marginalia,
On napkins, sketch our plots.
Despairing, to see
Our words in print,
Despairing, for what
We’re not.
Copyright 2021 Andrea LeDew
For another poem on the writing profession, read The Writer.
Literary magazines have traditionally asked for first North American serial rights, which disqualies anything that has been published before. Some also place a limit on the author’s sharing of the work on a blog for X period of time, most commonly 90 days or a year. Self-publishing is a good option for writers to first publish their work on a blog and then offer a collection of the work in book form.
Thank you Liz that is very clarifying. I think the whole business is quite confusing and, in my frustration, probably condemn things prematurely. I bow before your better sense and expertise.
One of the first things you learn being online is that everybody but everybody wants to write a book. It makes all your vain life-long feelings of specialness vanish in a disappointing poof, before you even get started with the business of learning the business!:)
You’re welcome, Andrea. Part of the confusion you’re experiencing may be because the publishing industry has undergone major changes over the past 20 years–and it doesn’t yet know where it wants to land.
You’re right that it seems everybody and everybody’s friends and relations wants to write a book. It is very, very hard to make one’s voice heard–but that doesn’t mean that each voice isn’t special with something important to say.
😊