The Traditional Poetry Publishing Path isn’t for Me.

I’m not submitting anymore. To put it simply, the small press poetry publishing model isn’t for me. This doesn’t mean I doubt my prospects. I believe in my work. I feel an obligation to honor it and to my readers to make something of it. The fact of the matter is this decision isn’t about my work’s potential. It’s about mine.

I know, there isn’t anything simple about that statement. As we’ve seen, my legitimacy and resolve may be questioned by my peers despite the merits of my work and any successes I achieve. My supporters might be disappointed. It might *gasp* ruin my life.

So, I snapped back into my people-pleasing persona and set out to package the news in the neatest of ways. I worked to justify it and frame it as a good business decision through a series of articles regurgitating the pros and cons of small-press poetry publishing. 

On paper, I did. 

There are countless arguments to prove this to be a wise business call, ranging from my platform size compared to that of many small press platforms to the cost-prohibitive pay-to-play of it all only to get subpar “standard” contracts compared to the leaps and bounds indie publishing has made over the last decade. All of these things made me feel better about my decision and gave me a way to steer its reception, but they weren’t the real reason I made it, and I didn’t come this far to start bullshitting my readers now. 

It all comes down to the source of my work. It’s that fractured part of me that gives it life. Compulsive writing is something akin to a symptom of it. 

For a long time, it was the only thing I had that was just mine. The one place I could speak my messy truth was on the page. No one could take it away, sensor it, leverage it, or twist it. It’s mine to publish far and wide or bury so deep it’ll never see the light of day. 

Unfortunately, compulsive writing isn’t the only symptom. For the reasons I just listed, relinquishing any amount of creative control, quite frankly, sickens me. I’m intelligent, I’m organized, and have a clear vision for my work so after a lifetime of having little to no control I’m not inclined to give up any more. 

I deal with panic attacks and random bouts of hermit-level social anxiety, I have a chronic progressive illness that at its best requires regular monitoring and can take sudden and drastic turns, and when I’m feeling well I celebrate by hiking and camping for weeks at a time. These kinds of things make me less than dependable when it comes to deadlines and appearances. I’m also not so naive as to think that my artistic nude photography pieces aren’t a deal breaker for some publishers.

The truth is, I’m not a good bet for a publishing house and I’d be doing myself a disservice to try to be one.

Now, don’t mistake this as some statement of defeat because it is anything but. Not only will this decision allow me full control of my body of work and the ability to create and share my pieces without restraint from within my comfort zone, but a discussion about forming my own imprint with some trusted contacts has already opened up a new opportunity I’m incredibly excited about. I’d love to tell you more about that, but I can’t until everything is final.

So, there you have it. The traditional poetry publishing path isn’t for me and that’s okay. 

This isn’t me failing or settling for less. This is me, self-aware and eyes wide open, making my own way and being true to who I am. 

That’s what my work is all about, after all. 

🖤-C