Whether it's concerning fiction, nonfiction, poetry, script writing, etc., one of the more common questions I get asked by writers is something along the lines of, "What is getting published now?," which also can be re-phrased as, "What is currently hot in publishing?"

Writers naturally want to find success in their craft and trade--just as people who golf or run seek success at whatever level they participate. In golfing and running, it's easier to track progress. For golfing, you know you're doing better if your scores are going down. For running, you know you're doing better when your times are dropping or when you're covering longer distances. So writers naturally look for a way to measure their success in writing and often use publishing, financial reward, and/or critical acceptance as their measures. And these can be good measures if you're following your own path.

In publishing (and writing), you don't want to follow trends for the sake of getting published, seeking financial reward, and/or critical acceptance. And here's why: Trends are moving targets. 

Usually by the time a trend is established, there are already experts working the trend backwards and forwards. So, there isn't room for newbies unless you have a significantly different take on the established trend. In other words, following what's hot now doesn't guarantee publication in the future.

So, of course, if publication is guaranteed, then financial compensation isn't guaranteed either.

Since we're talking poetry here, financial compensation shouldn't be a big concern anyway, because there's not a lot of money to go around in the first place. But even if you secure publication, you may want critical recognition, which will be very hard to come by if it's perceived that you're just following a trend.

No. You need to pay attention to what's happening around you, including what you like and don't like. But then, you've got to march forward with your own vision. You need to do YOUR thing.

Rejections will happen whether you follow the trends or not. Acceptances will, too. But if you're marching to your own beat, then you'll find that eventually other writers may be following you. Plus, as you find success, you'll realize there's more reason to feel confident with your own voice.

Jericho Brown worked as the speechwriter for the Mayor of New Orleans before receiving his Ph.D. in Creative Writing and Literature from the University of Houston. He also holds an M.F.A. from the University of New Orleans and a B.A. from Dillard University, and he has served as poetry editor at Gulf Coast: A Journal of Literature and Fine Arts. His poems have appeared in Callaloo, The Iowa Review, jubilat, New England Review, and Prairie Schooner. The recipient of the Bunting Fellowship at Harvard University, a Cave Canem Fellowship, and two travel fellowships to the Krakow Poetry Seminar in Poland, Brown is currently an Assistant Professor of English at the University of San Diego where he teaches creative writing.  Western Michigan University's New Issues Poetry & Prose published his first book, Please.

Brown's name has been flying around quite a bit recently--with multiple poets either praising his collection Please (New Issues) or e-mailing me directly to ask if I'd interview him. That's not typical. So, I hunted him down, and he took some time out of his busy schedule to let me interview him.

His collection Please was a great read from the very beginning. He even names the first section Repeat, which is funny, because I felt like repeating the experience of reading the beginning once I finished the end. But I'll let his words do the talking--this being one of my favorite pieces in the collection:

Why I Cannot Leave You

You bring home the food. I'm your hungry man,
Captive damsel dragged by the hair from her favorite
Streetlight to the trap of your tower, hollow icebox,
No magnets with things-to-do. No rules. It wouldn't
Be fair--you bring home the food--you can't read
Or write. I pace, check the window for my hunter. You
Bring home food and toss it onto the card table.
My teeth barely miss my fingertips--I rip
Into the bag. You like to kiss me, my mouth
Packed with the faintest franchise you could find, animal
Blood at each lip. Say carnivore, and I kiss back. I eat
My meat rare. You bare your sharpest grin. Bum
I say I love, you're my place to stay. We're against the law.
No one keeps me big as you. Fatten me, sweet ogre.
Get me some meat. Bring home food. Feed.

*****

What are you currently up to?

I'm trying to get a hold of any footage I can that shows news anchors Max Robinson and Jessica Savitch in action.  I'm working on a few poems about and in the voices of the two of them as well as poems based on scriptures from the Bible.  The second book is tentatively titled The New Testament, and I just learned that I got a Bunting Fellowship which should give me plenty of time for writing.  

I'm grateful that I've been traveling a lot in order to give readings.  I now get to meet really interesting people from all over the nation who love good poetry.  Also, I try to make sure I have enough reading material to keep me busy on planes.

Other than that, I go to the gym a lot.  I eat a lot.  I talk with friends over the phone a lot.  I teach a lot and read a lot in preparation for teaching.  I usually go clubbing when I get the chance because I like flirting and dancing.

Please is your debut collection of poems. How long did you go about getting them together and published?

The oldest drafts of some poems in Please were written in 2000, and I wrote them when I first attended the Cave Canem workshop/retreat for African American poets.  Some poems were first drafted 2007, the same year New Issues asked to publish the book. 

But seven years seems dishonest when I think of how I'm prone to reading and thinking more than to writing.  In the last eight years of my life, there were times I couldn't stop writing. Over a short period of weeks, I'd have many drafts of very different things and begin to think I may be quite literally possessed. Once, I actually had a car accident trying to get some scribbling done while driving. These periods were thrilling for me, but during them, I felt vulnerable in a way I have a hard time characterizing.

At other times, for periods as long as two years within the last eight, I didn't write at all. I couldn't even think to revise. This is, of course, painful and scary in a very different way. Today, I think I managed to get through these silences because I was much more interested in figuring how to write poems than I was in how to write a book. I had no goal other than the poem itself and could almost satisfy my yearnings to write by reading and discovering other poets. 

The voices are strong in Please. Is there a type of sound or voice (or both) you go for in your writing?

I think of writing, first, as a process of listening and, second, as a process of embodying.  I don't know that I "go for" anything in particular because I try and leave as much as I can to instinct, intuition, and reflex—even in the final stages of revision. 

For me, poems usually begin with a line from which I do some vocal repeating and pushing in order to generate other lines.  The lines that follow the first one often mimic the sound or make what seems to me some sort of counter-sound based on the first one.  Then, because I'm so interested in both music and voice, I find myself trying to figure the personality of the sounds as I am composing.  At some point in the writing of a first draft, I start to take on the characteristics of the voice that is asking to be channeled.  An example of this might be something as simple as punching the computer if the voice is pissed to the point of violence. 

You have a very nice website. Did you put it together, or did your publisher? Also, how helpful do you think having a website is in spreading the word about your writing?

Thanks, Robert.  Jerichobrown.com is the brainchild of Nick Walker, one of my undergraduate students at the University of San Diego.  He's an amazing poet, and he writes wonderful fiction too.  Nick and I argued for more than a semester.  He insisted that the website would be necessary, and I kept reassuring him that I had enough to do without thinking about ways to publicize my book and spending mounds of money to do it. 

At any rate, Nick started making moves without me being aware of it, and the next thing I knew he had come in contact with Arlene Valdes, a very talented web designer who was looking to build a portfolio for her business.  The portfolio would include a few clients for whom she'd create sites for one-tenth of what I imagine she charges now.  Nick and Arlene made all the decisions and did all the work.  My only job was to provide them with what I had already gathered for New Issues: a bio, the blurbs, the dates for readings, and of course, a few poems.

I don't think having a website hurts, but Buddha never had one, and the word spread pretty decently about things he had to say. 

Your bio mentions that you previously worked as a speechwriter for the Mayor of New Orleans. What was that job like? And did your experience as a speechwriter help with your poetry?

I served the City of New Orleans for four years working for Mayor Marc H. Morial, who is now President and CEO of the National Urban League.  He's an amazing leader who made his love for that city absolutely contagious.  He is also a major role model for me as my fraternity brother and the man willing to take a chance on me and give me my first job right out of college.  (The word "give" is supremely important here, considering the desperate shape I was in.)

A speechwriter goes into each speech knowing the message and figuring the best way to communicate the message as he goes.  A poet figures ways of communicating and wonders if he has a message.  I prefer the latter because it gives me a chance to question beliefs that I myself hold dear.  There is no room for such questions when working to drive a message home.

While researching you online, I noticed people commenting positively on your readings. Do you have any special reading tips for other poets?

Slow down.

Who are you currently reading?

Today, I read Versed by Rae Armantrout, some Gwendolyn Brooks, a few poems online by Rodney Jack and Wayne Johns, some George Oppen, some C.S. Lewis, a little bit from Barbara Walters'memoir Audition, and the Bible.   

If you could pass on only one piece of advice to other poets, what would it be?

Make love.

*****

To learn more about Jericho, go to www.jerichobrown.com.

To learn more about his publisher, go to www.wmich.edu/~newissue/.

It's not usual that I go a whole week without a post between the Wednesday Poetry Prompts, but that's what happened this week. On one hand, I've been very, very busy with database and website work. On the other hand, I really didn't have much to talk about anyway this past week (wrote a little, submitted some).

For the last couple weeks I've been on a diet, and I've lost some real poundage (trying to get down to a decent running weight). So for this week's prompt, I'd like you to write a poem about dieting and/or diets. It can be pro-diet, anti-diet, or use dieting as an aside for the rest of the poem.

Here's my attempt:

"23.4"

Instant oatmeal, vegetable soup, dill pickles--
he counts the calories on carrots and wonders
if he's using enough self-restraint. When he
was young, he'd eat double quarter-pounders
(with cheese) and large fries; he'd eat three
large plates of spaghetti; he'd wash it down
with pop; he couldn't gain weight. Now, he
can't make the weight go away. He can't trick
it off his body. So he looks in the mirror; he
steps on the scale; and what does he see?  

As my stepson commented this morning, today is a messy day (at least, in the Atlanta area). Lots of rain, a little thunder and lightning, and even a little chill in the air. Since I've been coughing and battling a cold the past few days, this messy morning only feels that much messier. But I'm not too concerned, because I know that soon the mornings will get less messy and my cold will pass.

This is why for this week's prompt, I want everyone to write an ode. If you're not sure what an ode is, check out this link: http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/Odes+Praise+Poetry.aspx.

As you can see, odes can be formalized or irregular. The main point is to praise someone or something. You can praise a folk hero, a politician, a species of animal, an association, or even a pair of sweaty gym socks (though I'm not sure where I'd start on that one--Peeee-eeew!).

Here's my attempt for the day:

"An Ode to Poetry Collections"

They're always so thin
you worry about their health.
They don't make any money,
and they're never to be found
at the bookstore unless penned
by someone dead, famous, or
associated with MTV (remember
when MTV played music?).
Still, you can find them
in the seediest of locations--
coffee shops, college bookstores,
and author websites. Those
who sell them to you will not
look you in the eye as money
changes hands. However,
when you get home and crack
open these slim volumes, you
will feel part of a conspiracy
trying to shake meaning
down to its basest roots;
you will see someone working
hard at craft for the sake
of communication; you will see
a slice of humanity reaching out
until you feel the need to pick
up your pen and reach out, too.

I received the following question via e-mail from a poet who wishes to remain anonymous:

Believe me, editors (especially of well-respected publications) are not afraid to send rejection notes. So, it's not good news yet (because your work hasn't been accepted), but it's not bad news either. Unless you don't like waiting around for responses.

If you're tired of waiting and the well-respected publication doesn't allow simultaneous submissions, then you can always respectfully pull your work from their consideration. Or you can move on as if it was rejected.

Many editors go over their stated guidelines, especially when they are drowning in submissions from eager writers. Often, response estimates are given by editors who are overly optimistic about how quick they'll get through everything.

One way to avoid this problem, of course, is to only submit to publications that accept simultaneous submissions. While I'm not a simultaneous submitter myself, many well-published poets are. If you go down that road, just make sure you have a good submission tracking system in place--so that you can notify journals when specific poems have been accepted for publication.

*****

Click here to check out other Poetry FAQs from Poetic Asides: http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/CategoryView,category,Poetry%20FAQs.aspx.

*****

If you wish to submit a question, e-mail me at robert.brewer@fwmedia.com with the subject line: "Poetry Question".

Grisel Y. Acosta has shared some more of her experience at AWP in Chicago: http://writetoright.blogspot.com/2009/02/awp-or-zombie-fest.html

Looks like there was plenty of room for surprises at the event.

*****

Also, I see that the Poetic Asides Chapbook Champion, Shann Palmer, has self-published and is selling copies of her winning chapbook: "Change." If you want to check it out, go to: http://shannpalmer.blogspot.com/2009/02/buy-my-change-chapbook.html

I'm sure Shann would appreciate your support!

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

*****

Jacqueline Cartier, media relations with NPR, shared the following link with me earlier this week: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=100619363

It's a poetry slam for Valentine's Day! Check out the link to hear some cool poems.

*****

The Poetry Foundation lists more than 1,200 love poems here: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/tool.poem.cat.2.1.html?id=7

If you need a Valentine's Day idea, you can always e-mail a favorite poem from this link to that extra special person.

*****

Here's another Valentine's Day idea: Why not write a love poem for the one you love? I did so last Valentine's Day, and now I'm married to her. To check out that poem, go here: http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/Will+You+Be+My+Valentine.aspx

I'm not saying you'll get married if you write a love poem, but it doesn't hurt, eh?

Since I'm a man of routines, here's my Valentine's Day poem for this year:

You
-For Tammy Brewer

found me in airports. You found me
in bookstores. You found me on the
streets of Manhattan. I made you
mix CDs. We listened as we
drove to Yellow Springs, to Helen.
We fell in love as we wandered
along nature trails and city
streets--both walking at the same pace,
letting the others run past us.

Been back in Atlanta since Sunday evening, and--wow!--it's so much warmer. Last week in Ohio: 6-8 inches of snow and negative degrees (before the wind chill). This week in Georgia: sunny skies and 60s & 70s for the temps. It's amazing what a difference an 8-hour drive can make on my perspective concerning the weather.

For this week's prompt, I want you to write a poem about a neighborhood. It could be about your current neighborhood, a previous neighborhood, a neighborhood you've visited, or just one you've imagined.

Here's my attempt for the day:

"Florence Avenue"

I drove through the old neighborhood last week,
surprised at how small the houses were, how
fast the houses passed by my car. When I
was a boy, kids played outside from morning
until evening. Now, the street might as
well have tumbleweed blowing from one end
to the other. When I was a boy, this
neighborhood felt safe, but now, I see cracked
windows, beaten up cars, broken fences.

I drove through the old neighborhood last week
thinking I might stop at my old house and
survey my childhood. Remember the fire
hydrant that used to shoot water into
the gutters where we'd splash around under
a hot summer sun. Remember the bend
in the road where we'd start all our races.
Remember how all the kids would play and
chase and call out each others' names. But when

I drove through the old neighborhood last week,
my car kept driving. The houses in which
we lived had moved on to new lives, the same
as we had. I realized I could not stop
to admire my history here, because
my past life no longer lives on Florence
Avenue. My history left town
when I did, still as a young kid, full of
the stuff that makes someone want to look back.