

For the past decade new writers with a completed manuscript have debated whether to a) self-publish or b) go through the process of querying agents or publishers and/or add their manuscripts to slumbering slush piles. Self-publishing is quick and easy but requires the author to invest his/her own time and money to market the book (if at all), whereas blind querying and submitting may land the manuscript an agent and/or established publisher, but the process can take decades. The deus ex machina that solves this dilemma comes in a most unexpected incarnation: Amazon.com.
Amazon Encore is a new program that selects previously self-published or unpublished books that Amazon perceives as having potential and (re)introduces in print and Kindle format (some in audio format also), fully supported by Amazon’s existing marketing channels. So far, Amazon Encore has chosen ten books, all due out by April 2010. The list includes previously self-published titles, young adult fiction, women’s fiction, multicultural literature, LGBT, crime/detective, romance—there’s a book on the list for any reader. Have a look at Amazon.com.
According to Amazon, customer reviews and other information help them discover new titles, and another way for writers to get Amazon to read their manuscript is to enter the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award (ABNA), which is open to self-published books as well as unpublished manuscripts. Each year one winner (though this year there will be two) receives a publishing contract from a shiny press (e.g. Penguin), but last year four entrants who did not win received good news: Amazon’s brand new program, Amazon Encore, wanted to sign a publishing contract with them, too!
Who do you want to publish and market your book, Amazon.com, or Indie Press #251? We love and try to support our beloved and noble indie presses, but many a writer will likely choose Amazon. After all, Amazon is famous! Amazon was one of the first to recommend purchases for customers and display advertisements based on customers’ purchase histories—even the money-burning, publicist-hiring big presses cannot beat Amazon when it comes to marketing power and existing customer base.
So, maybe you can have your cake (publish your ten-years-of-sweat-and-tears-in-the-making novel instantly) and eat it, too (still get a fat contract later on with Amazon and have your book re-released with a shiny cover and dazzling marketing plan.) This year’s ABNA is already in progress; quarterfinalists will be announced March 23rd (Did I forget to mention that you get a FREE Publisher’s Weekly review just for being one of the 500 quarterfinalists?), Amazon customers will vote on the six finalists beginning May 25th, and the two winners (one for general fiction, one for young adult fiction) will receive their much coveted Penguin contracts by June 14th, 2010. Self-published and unpublished writers, why not polish up your manuscript and prepare to enter the ABNA next year?
Yu-Han Chao is Poetry Editor at the Rose & Thorn Journal. Her poetry book, We Grow Old, was published by the Backwaters Press. Visit her writing and artwork at her Web site.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth's flowing breast
A tree that looks at God all day
And lifts its leafy arms to pray
I must say that I never think of form as directing. I don't think of the form itself as making any demands. In this I suppose I'm very close to being a free-verse poet. I think of the form as something that you choose because what you want to say is going to be able to take advantage of it . . . .Every form I think has a certain logic, has certain expressive capabilities. . . if one chooses form rightly, one is not submitting to the demands of the form but making use of it at every moment.
Balzac of the
by Steve Finbow
Future Fiction
ISBN: 978-0578021164
Reviewed by Yu-Han Chao
If there was a bookshelf in your local bookstore labeled “literary thrillers,” a few copies of Balzac of the Badlands would reside there. Somehow art-for-art’s-sake and a plot-driven page-turner at the same time, Steve Finbow’s debut novel brings together elements that do not usually share the same page: postmodern prose, a gripping mystery plot, love scenes where you can feel every stubble and touch, gangs, militants, detectives, drug smugglers, human smugglers, you name it, it’s all in there.
Balthazar Zachariah, in search of a client’s missing daughter, brings readers on a Ulysses-style tour across
Whether his scenes are of kidnapping, torture, lovemaking, or landscape, Finbow maintains his lilting, vivid style in every sentence.
I hear gunshots. One loud and one less distinct. A crack. Then a muffled pop. Everything slows down. The darkness ripples. Corrugated. The leaves, fleshy, green and incarnate. Waves. Waves. Something flies through the trees, the papery beat of its wings heavy, getting heavier, slowing, faltering. (204-205)
The violence somehow seems less violent and more beautiful, filtered through such poetic descriptions, though when Finbow dedicates entire paragraphs to sights and colors of the landscape, he also manages to foreshadow the violence ahead with such clarity the reader can practically hear the “death knells” from bluebells and the explosions of petals and pollen:
A row of cannabis plants yields in their wake, trodden down by impatient feet, strangely human in colour. Nor does the tide spare local flora. Oxeye daisies trampled in its onslaught. The purple leaves of Devil’s-bit scabious torn and scattered. Willow-herbs rock on their skinny stems. Fleabanes burst like burning novas, their small sun heads exploding in bursts of pale pink petals, golden-yellow pollen. Bluebells ring out their own death knells, falling to the ground in heavy drops of chalk-blue and steel-lilac. (171-172)
It’s a pleasure to read such short yet descriptive sentences. It’s also reassuring, almost moving, to remember that they were written by a contemporary writer. Nabokov, Joyce, Ginsberg and Angela Carter have all passed on and become canonized, but the musicality of their style and their colorful use of words have not been buried with them. In fact, Steve Finbow himself once worked for Allen Ginsberg, something that may not surprise readers of Balzac of the Badlands.
But you must read the book for yourself—no mere summary of plot or ten-sentence excerpts will do the book justice. The traditional genres of literary or mainstream converge here and gives us aspiring writers and avid readers hope—that a beautifully written book of prose can at the same time be plot-driven and marketable in content.
Steve Finbow's fiction and non-fiction has appeared in numerous anthologies, journals, and on literary websites. In the late 1980's, he worked for the poet Allen Ginsberg. He is an Extraordinary Senior Lecturer at
Yu-Han Chao is Poetry Editor at the Rose & Thorn Journal. Her poetry book, We Grow Old, was published by the Backwaters Press. Visit her writing and artwork at her Web site.
As I was finishing The Sword of the Lady, S. M. Stirling's latest novel of his triple trilogy "The Change" wherein human civilization has been drastically altered by a supernatural annulment of the laws of thermodynamics, I experienced a further revelation in the paradox of interpersonal communication. It occurred at the culmination of the hero's quest for a divinely crafted sword as he is visited by Deity in the form of three women: youthful, matronly, and aged. When Rudi asks why they have summoned him, he is told, "You are here to understand... a little. We have to come towards you in forms you can grasp so that we can talk at all, but that limits Us." Here, we begin to get at the crux of Rudi's problem, and ours, as writers who rely on words to translate our descriptive visions to the reader.
How could a parent tell its entire mind to a child, or a god explain the divine plan to mere mortals? When the Diety attempt to explain to Rudi what it will take to get the electricity turned back on, he is more confused than ever. Things are both true and untrue at the same time. Beings are both singular and plural, as well. Is the godhead one? Or many? Or both? From their words, Rudi can visiualize nothing but a black and disorderly universe. He asks if it is truth. "Yes. No," he is told. Ah, words. With each one being a private metaphor all of its own, it is amazing anyone can understand anyone else at all.
The mother figure of Diety smiles sympathetically as she denies Rudi certainty, and the blond maiden points out the obvious issue, "It is so hard to say this in words."
The aged one tries to further explain their vision of the future, finishing with, "That is us, including you, many times removed. More than you can imagine. More than we can say in words."
"You keep saying that," Rudi states in frustration, "but you speak in words nonetheless. And it's more ignorant I am afterwards than ever I was before."
This is the yin and yang of words. It reveals the drawbacks of exposition as opposed to poetic expression, where the power of poetry can overcome the weakness of essay. "Then see!" Rudi is told as each new vision is meant to lead him towards ultimate understanding. But, we the readers do not experience the same visions. Or do we? Here is where Stirling skillfully combines exposition and poetic expression to paint Rudi's visions with... words. The very same tools that could not take the author's protagonist into understanding, transport us into his vision so that we can stand behind Rudi's eyes and SEE what he is experiencing with all his senses.
I was captivated by this experience. S. M. Stirling has proved himself to be a master wordsmith, and reading his work provides a good apprenticeship to any writer looking to improve his or her own understanding of the descriptive possibilities of craft. Indeed, though it might take a thousand words to paint the picture, the end product will be well worth it. It's motivated me to get busy with my own writing again.
Now, if Stirling would only get the next book in his fabulous series finished and out to us...
Wil Hough, a senior contributing author for Rose & Thorn Journal for which he also serves as Poetry Editor and Graphics Manager, is a grandfather still earning his living as a faux finishing artist and painter.
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Brian Wilkins is the editor of Scarab: a literary magazine for the iPhone. He is a graduate of the MFA program at the University of New Hampshire. His work can be found or is forthcoming in Two Review and Permafrost, Pure Francis, and Sententia.
R&T: Brian, how did the idea of pairing a literary magazine with the iPhone come about?
Wilkins: Through the threat of looming unemployment. I was finishing my MFA at UNH and my partner (and Scarab’s resident technical genius) Ian Terrell was in between projects. We were roommates at William and Mary and had always wanted to collaborate on a creative project that utilized both our skills—of course, when those skills are poetry and computer science the opportunities are few and far between. We originally pitched around the idea of a web-based journal but became more and more enamored with what the iPhone offered: the ability to mix together media in an application that was portable, slick, and felt (because of the tactile element) like the natural extension of the print magazine.
R&T: Do you think this pairing represents part of a larger shift in the literary world from print to digital media?
Wilkins: I think that shift is inevitable for certain media: newspapers, magazines, even paperbacks. As the cost of producing a physical product for what are essentially disposable commodities goes up, it’s going to be increasingly attractive to move these items to digital formats. We’re at an odd point in the process, though, where not everyone has the capacity to view the new media; things are still in flux. What we want from Scarab is to stake out some ground; we want anyone who comes after us to take our values, the primacy of the voice conveyed both in sound and writing, into consideration.
This is not a new process. We still live in Gutenberg’s world and probably will until we can transmit ideas directly to each other’s minds or something equally far-fetched. All that’s changed really is paper. People shouldn’t worry about the disappearance of the book, though. The book is a part of us now: just because there are quicker ways to make wine doesn’t mean people stop aging it in oak barrels.
R&T: I agree. The two aren’t mutually exclusive. Can you tell us the significance of the name Scarab?
Wilkins: We went through a lot of names; we wanted something short, without any literary nonsense gunking the gears. The Egyptians associated the scarab with the dawn and believed it was born of itself, emerging out of the dung. While I don’t want to imply anything about past literary magazines, Ian and I were both fond of the idea of something reborn but rooted in tradition. It was sealed when a friend of mine, without knowing anything about this process, gave me a scarab necklace as a graduation gift. I figured that was sufficiently serendipitous.
R&T: What do you look for in the works you decide to feature? Is there a particular focus on poetry versus prose, vice versa?
Wilkins: We do tend to focus a bit more on poetry as it suits the medium a little better. But I love good short prose, so we try to slip in a short story or a couple essays per issue.
As for the first question, I sort of hate answering it. Any definition of “what I want” inevitably excludes the possibility of being surprised by new work. Generally, though, I want works that are pleasurable to hear and stand up to further scrutiny in the text. I think of literature like a good meal: overwhelming at the table and something you can’t wait to sneak down and scrounge out of the fridge in middle of the night. If your piece does that, I’ll publish it. If people want anything less metaphorical just read the magazine. I like all of that.
R&T: That’s a great analogy. What do you feel having audio capability adds to the reader’s experience of the work?
Wilkins: Ian wanted to know, right at the beginning, what we could do with the iPhone that was missing from a print literary magazine. There are probably other answers, but to me the first had to be restoring the voice to the text. The written word, as fantastic a solution to the problem of “How do we talk over time and distance” is, is merely a substitution for the sound of language. Of course, what we have is a chance to collapse the binary between reading a poem and the performance of it. History does us a favor: because this all started at an oral art that moved into a written form, when we combine them into one medium you don’t lose either pleasure but gain both. You gain immediate access to the music and tone intended by the author as well as the ability to ponder all the implications of a text.
R&T: What has the feedback been like since you debuted in October?
Wilkins: Generally positive, particularly after Apple allowed us to offer the application (along with sample work) for free and charge only for the issues. We received good reviews on Wired.com and various blogs—even a couple in the Netherlands and Norway, which is fun. People seem to get it and like it—now we just need to get more attention for it.
R&T: What is your vision for the magazine in the future?
Wilkins: We’d like to add some minor improvements to the application, obviously, and we’re thinking about having a contest issue soon. What I’d like is to continue with what we’re doing: providing our readers with a chance to read along with some of the best contemporary writers.
Ian and I also run Old Brick Press, LLC, which is accepting submissions for novellas and chapbooks to be published as applications along the same lines as Scarab.
What we hope for most, though, is to use the tools at our disposal to support artists through publicity and payment. 22% of Scarab goes directly back to the artists in the issue, so the more we can sell the better our payments for a poem or work of prose get. We hope that we can contribute to a marketplace where an author can make a living through their published work.
R&T: How can writers get in touch with you if they are interested in submitting work?
Wilkins: The best way to submit work for Scarab is through our submission manager on our website, www.scarabmag.com. If you’re interested in submitting for the chapbooks and the novellas you can email me at submissions@oldbrickpress.com
Thanks, Brian, for sharing your time with us. You can check out Brian’s poem, “Absolute Zero,” in Rose & Thorn Journal’s Winter issue starting January 15th as well as a listen to his Podcast on our blog.
C.L. Toups is Managing Editor and Senior Poetry Editor for Rose & Thorn.