The Aurorean

Branching Out—And Into—A New Year

2011-12-22T11:19:00.000-08:00

Where (oh where?) did 2011 go? While it's not officially time to take down the 2011 calendars and replace them with 2012, the time is indeed close at hand. As the years go by, those monthly pages on the calendar seem to need turning ever-more furiously. And sometimes it's mid-month before the pages do get turned. While the passing of time seems to speed up exponentially as we get older (and I know there's some mathematical reason why it seems that way), most of the time it's from sheer busy-ness that I can't quite keep up with time's passing.

In the last few months, I've not kept up with my blogging as I should. I am not one to make New Year's resolutions (for we all know how those go), but instead, I like to try to implement permanent behavior changes. Goodness knows there are many things I'd like to work on and change permanently, but I am going to focus on the regularity of blog posting as a top priority. Blogging is writing—and as writers, we know that the only way to accomplish writing is to do it. Waiting until the time is right or until the spirit moves us does not get it done. I'm likely to have more success with this blogging-more change in behavior than with trying to eat less ice cream. I know how that goes.

Here at the Aurorean, much of the passage of 2011 has been spent not only with our biannual Aurorean publication and all that entails, but in carefully planning and launching our expedition into the world of chapbook publishing. Yes, we have published chapbooks and full-length books of poetry in the distant past (before the widespread usage of the World-Wide Web and its promotional advantages for authors and publishers), and more recently, full-length collections—in 2007, one by small-press great B.Z. Niditch; in 2010, an anthology of poems by Maine Poets Society members; and earlier this year, a collection each by Margaret Rockwell Finch and Marta Rijn Finch, co-presidents of Maine Poets Society.

But beginning this year, we branched out to offer a yearly chapbook competition through Encircle Publications. The above image is of the end result. As with the Aurorean, we wanted the end result to be a work of art—not just the art of the poetry inside, but the art of the presentation. We wanted to offer a reasonable entry fee and ease of submission process. We wanted to become a chapbook publisher that does everything we can to help our authors succeed. We wanted to find the best manuscript from those submitted. We determined to judge the manuscripts blindly—removing identifying information and any list of submitters' publication credentials from the manuscripts themselves. The editors also approached each reading without potentially-biasing comments from the other editor. Comments were shared and discussions held only after both editors read each manuscript personally with fresh eyes. The field was narrowed as we proceeded, and on we went to first, second and final rounds. A winner was declared with anticipation, excitement and a sense of accomplishment. Regarding the winning manuscript, both editors were in absolute agreement.

This first time out, the winner has set the bar high for our future annual contests. That is a good thing. It will insure that as editors, we keep our poetry judging and all-around quality-control thinking caps on at all times. Eleanor Lerman, author of The Sensual World Re-Emerges (Sarabande Books) had this to say: The question that begins Lisa Bellamy's elegant and eloquent collection of poems is a poignant one: are we all "just wind and gristle"? In the pages that follow, this skilled poet goes on to assure us that we are not. In fact, the healing light of our humanity suffuses all our days, as do our memories of our mothers, our home towns, our childhood prayers, and the sight of the stars overhead each night. Sadness is everywhere, Bellamy tells us—but like the bees "mixing nectar with tears" to produce honey—so is joy.

Our first press run arrived just today and we have been busy packing orders and copies requested by reviewers. We hope you will see what fuels our enthusiasm. Copies of Nectar can be ordered (shipping always included) here: http://www.encirclepub.com/store/product/nectar Let Bellamy's amazing poetry serve as your companion as you put up that new 2012 calendar and journey into the new year. As well, join us in 2012—share your work with us by submitting to the Aurorean (Spring/Summer deadline: February 15th). See http://www.encirclepub.com/poetry/aurorean/guidelines Or, submit to our 2012 chapbook competition (deadline to register for online entry: September 1st). See http://www.encirclepub.com/chapbookcontest

I wish all of our Aurorean friends a warm holiday season and a poetry-filled 2012!

Notes from an Assistant Editor’s Point of View

2011-09-10T06:00:00.000-07:00

For this month’s blog Cynthia has asked me to chime in on what its like to serve the Aurorean as an assistant editor. Frankly this is one of the very few jobs I’ve worked that I can say is taken with a deal of pleasure and excitement. This is especially true when we approach the production of a finished product. Certainly it’s not all sun and rainbows but the tasks that fall on the mundane side of things (going through the mail, acknowledging submissions) aren’t physically or mentally challenging in the least and can be accomplished swiftly with a cup of tea at my side and a cat on my lap. Other tasks do require a bit more moxie but that’s where the fun comes in.

Over the course of a reading period my eyes are often the first ones to get a look at the submissions that roll in. After a good chunk has piled up I take it home for the weekend and when I’ve got a few hours to spare I sit down with a cup of coffee and begin my reading. The fun comes when I find a gem. The truth of the matter is that those gems are really few and far between. I’d guess that the Aurorean accepts poems from about 10% of the manuscript submissions it receives (even less if we break it down by individual poem). This means I read A LOT of poems that won’t make the cut. It’s easy sometimes because it’s usually very clear when someone has not read our guidelines or is unfamiliar with the Aurorean and what we publish.

Cynthia and I talk time and time again about how wasteful it is of a poet’s time and money to submit blindly to publications without ever having read said publication or adhered to said publication’s guidelines, not to mention our own time in responding to submissions that clearly aren’t for us. It doesn’t matter. We can scream it till we’re blue in the face but the fact will remain the same; a good 30% of our submissions can easily be rejected almost out of hand because they fail to meet simple guidelines. A good chunk of other poems might meet our guidelines but fail for all sorts of other reasons (lack of focus, unoriginality, vapid lines, shoddy line breaks with no appreciation for natural rhythm, natural pauses, or the sound and sense a poem begs to impart to one's ears). Sometimes a poem is rough for one of these reasons, yet a keen editor’s eye can buff out a rough spot and make the poem shine. If I see a spot that needs buffing I’ll point it out but I’m certainly not paid to revise or reconstruct a whole poem or even explain in great detail why a poem can’t cut it. Suggested revisions of poems are things a poet accepts or not. I write comments for Cynthia to read on all the manuscripts I see. Sometimes the comments are brief like “Nothing here grabbed me,” “such-and-such is a nice poem, I love the imagery” etc. Sometimes they’re more voluminous like when I see a rough spot that just needs a buffing. After commenting they then go to our Editor.

Sometimes we both wrestle with a poem together because it has merits but needs two editors’ eyes to make it shine. Sometimes a poem has some brightness to it but it takes a set of two eyes to see why it’s really a muted brightness (against all the other accepted ones) and needs to be rejected. We can’t publish every good poem we get. We have space restrictions and this means that good poems often get squeezed out. No biggie, we’ll encourage the poet to try again.

This leads me to impart some tips from my perspective on how to give yourself the best chance at publication in the Aurorean.

1. Read the latest issue. When you’re done with that read another issue.
2. Read our guidelines. Learn them, live them, love them.
3. Read your poems aloud. If it doesn’t sound right it isn’t.
4. Revise, revise, revise, and if you can and have the inclination to do so then join a group where you can also workshop your work and get feedback for the revision process.
5. Submit early. As Cynthia’s last blog indicates, we work in increments and accept poems in batches throughout the reading period. We always know how many we’ve accepted and how many more we need to accept in order to fill our pages. Good poems get squeezed out the closer we get to our deadline.

We’re now in our Spring/Summer reading period, which means the Fall/Winter 2011/12 issue of the Aurorean is due out in a little over a month. We’ve still got a lot of typing and proofing to do before it goes to print. Then will come the exciting part, the finished product’s arrival, the packing and the mailing, that beautiful little journal finally in our hands. It’s always a thrill to hold that thing and flip through it.

With last year’s Fall/Winter issue, we added a new multi-media addition and it’s something we hope to continue. After the journal has been packed and mailed Cynthia and I will take to our sound studio where we’ll each record a reading of our featured poets’ work and one other poem from the issue for use in a poetry journal trailer that we’ll post to our site and youtube.com to help promote our journal and our poets. Besides being fun and often hilarious to make (after 10 takes we start to lose our marbles and often fall into uncontrollable fits of laughter) I think these trailers are a wonderful addition to the journal, and a nice way to showcase our featured poets’ work. If you haven’t seen our first two trailers you can view them here

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S-W3Ftcryp4&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0wZEHZ-Z5bU

I look forward to the upcoming month with great anticipation—till then, all the best to our contributors and readers as we continue our swing towards autumn and winter.

Devin McGuire
Assistant Editor

Time Flies When You Work in Increments

2011-08-05T12:58:00.000-07:00

It is to my embarrassing astonishment that I have been so utterly remiss in my Aurorean blog. I like to post at least once a month. As you can see, two months have completely slipped by. How time flies when you're having fun? Yes, and no.

On the yes side: We are having SO much fun sprinting to the Fall/Winter submission deadline of August 15th (we are buried in terrific poems). And we are beginning to become happily inundated with manuscripts for our new chapbook contest (check out http://www.encirclepub.com/chapbookcontest) with a deadline of September 1st.

On the no-fun side: I have been dealing with doctors' appointments, a giant insurance company and medication (and its side effects) around Lyme disease. If you are interested in checking out my more personal blog dealing with Lyme disease, visit http://writinglyme.blogspot.com.

But, no matter getting sidetracked, we are on-target as we should be for late-October release of our Fall/Winter issue. This is due in large part to the support and help I receive at home from my husband, and, on the office-front, from my Assistant Editor Devin McGuire. Who will be our Fall/Winter Featured Poets? Showcase Poets? Bookend poets? What fall (or winter) delight will readers see on our cover? Of course, I can't reveal those secrets now. But to make sure you don't miss out, reserve your copy at http://www.encirclepub.com/store/product/340.

As most of us are, I am well-practiced in being sidetracked by life, and over the course of almost sixteen years of publishing, I'm proud to say that the Aurorean has only become sidetracked from its publication date goals very rarely. I know what it's like to be overwhelmed with deadlines, so I try to eliminate that problem by continually reading for the next issue. Soon after one issue is released, any poems that may have been accepted for the next issue (due to seasonality) are typeset and proofs sent out. Then, we begin anew. There is always a "mock" Aurorean (an Aurorean-in-progress) sitting next to me. At any given point in a reading period, we know how many poems we have accepted and how many we still need to fill our pages. If I had to do it all at once, I couldn't do it—whether it be sending acceptances, returning/replying to the poems we can't use, typsetting poems/bios, making proof corrections, or managing the mailing list. Working in workable increments works well.

If we get thrown by anything unexpected, we can easily catch up and then make our to-the-printer target date. Our printer needs the digital files to be uploaded by the beginning of the month of publication for a late-month release (and I must admit, my husband helps greatly on the office-front too, as he works "computer magic" and uploads our files).

So onward we race to the next exciting compilation of fall/winter/New England/seasonal/meditaional/uplifting poetry! (In increments.)

On to the Next Whirlwind & Minding Our Deadline Manners

2011-05-28T14:26:00.000-07:00

Since my last post, the Spring/Summer issue has been published and mailed; we've heard from many happy readers/contributors; we've attended the Massachusetts Poetry Festival with dozens of other small presses and journals (pictured: poetry, poetry, poetry from our table on down!); and…we're starting all over again.

Our reading period for the next issue (Fall/Winter 2011–2012) is in full swing. This finds us editors always thinking ahead (or trying to think ahead) to the next seasons on the calendar—the seasons we said our good-byes to just a few short weeks ago. The snow in our corner of Maine finished melting in April, and here we are in May reading poems about snow. Falling leaves. Dangling fall leaves. Frost.

This brings me to a reminder for poets who submit to virtually any journal: While it might be Memorial Day on the calendar, most editors are thinking ahead. To their next issue. So if you're finding yourself deeply inspired or particularly prolific because of anything spring/summery, please check guidelines to see when you should submit those warm-toned poems. In our case, if you have a poem about Flag Day (hypothetically), you don't want to submit it in June! You'll want to wait until at least August 16th, when, once again, we begin reading poems for the next spring/summer seasons. And you'll want to get that Flag Day poem into us by the day after Valentine's Day or—you guessed it, it'll have to wait another year.

Although seasonal work is a big focus of ours, we do accept work that isn't seasonal, nature-based or in haiku form. But writers get carried away with the wonder of the moment so that sometimes we forget where an editor's mind may be as to deadline-related needs. Perhaps this bit of advice from George Santayana will prove helpful: "To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring."

So now, the whirlwind of reviewing poems and creating a new Aurorean from scratch begins. Before we get too far into it, though, watch for a promotional video for the current Spring/Summer issue to be released soon (after all, we do want you to enjoy spring and summer no matter which seasons we have to be thinking about). If you have "Liked" the Aurorean's page on facebook, we'll post a link to it next week. If you haven't "Liked" the Aurorean's page on facebook, here you go:

https://www.facebook.com/Aurorean

The Excitement, The Anticipation, The Nerve-Wrackingness!

2011-03-31T11:38:00.000-07:00

In less than a week, the Spring/Summer issue of the Aurorean goes to the printer. This time period (in producing each issue) always proves to be frantic. And this time this issue even more so, as I've been a bit behind schedule due to my recently diagnosed Lyme disease {http://writinglyme.blogspot.com} and the fits and starts of various treatments involved. But no matter what happens, I tell myself, It will get done! And it will. And it does.

But there is the excitement involved in choosing a cover image for each particular issue. (Just look at the image above! Isn't it fun? Rich? Spring-y?—it's much more fun than chasing down that last bio or getting that last proofing question answered!) There is the joy in choosing colorful and sometimes beautifully-textured paper for our endpapers and Insert pages, and having a new review quote ("This little journal will fill you up"—see last post) to add to the back cover. There is the sheer excitement involved in knowing who our Featured Poets are, whose chapbook we chose to recommend, whose poem was chosen as "Best" of our last issue, and the happiness in being able to release that information to our readers.

There is all that. And anticipation. How will this issue—the first one out after an amazing 15th Anniversary celebration—be received? Will that cover look as good as I anticipate? Will the endpapers and Insert pages match nicely against that cover? Will another review of endorsement appear in NewPages or will Small Press Review again choose us as a "Pick"? Will it all work together, poems individually, poets individually, and as a complete body of work? Will we wend our way into new homes, finding new friends as we do so?

And then there are the nerve-wracking issues that keep editors up at night. Did we proof it all correctly? (Sending out proofs for our poets to check is one thing. If they miss a glaring error while proofing, that is one error whose burden rests on us as well.) Will there be any unforeseeable delays at the printer? Did the paper company send the correct endpapers and Insert papers to the printer? Am I certain Poet A agreed to our suggestions? Did we make double-certain that the page numbers listed in poets' bios are truly the page number(s) where each poet appears? Will we get the mailing list 100% accurate, and the envelopes and boxes labeled and in plenty of time? What if my computer crashes the day before I'm scheduled to send to press???...and on and on until we finally knock ourselves out with sleeping medication and return to sanity the following day.

You might think by now that the nerve-wracking part of my job as editor tips the scale. But it all works together in harmony. And I can be certain that when I say "click here to reserve your copy" {http://www.encirclepub.com/store/product/340} I have faith that there will be a copy for you, and one we can be proud to send to you. Moving into our sixteenth year, I know that to be true.

New Year, NewPages/New Review, New Ideas!

2011-02-02T04:36:00.000-08:00

It's a bit late to say "Happy New Year!" at the beginning of February. I've taken a bit of a hiatus from the blog (no posts at all in December or January; no posts from me since November). But there's good reason for that—refer to my "Stealing Time" post of October 7th. I mentioned that I'd been fighting an illness. In November, that illness was finally diagnosed (Lyme Disease*). Since then I've been busy putting my recovery protocol in place and dealing with exaggerated symptoms (the Lyme does NOT want to go away—it was very happy having me as its unwitting host). After a little over two months of treatment, I am beginning to see tiny glimmers of better days ahead. So it's time to get back to the Aurorean blog and say (a very, very belated) "HAPPY NEW YEAR!".

One of our first happy surprises of 2011 was a wonderful review of the 15th Anniversary Issue in NewPages. Reviewer Sima Rabinowitz ended with a gem of an endorsement: "This little journal will fill you up." :-) {This is us, smiling.} Rabinowitz honed in on poems by contributors Steve Ausherman, Brigit Truex, Bridgette E. Hahn, Kenneth O'Keefe, and Connie Post. We are honored as always to have such fine talent grace our pages. To read the full review: http://www.newpages.com/literary-magazine-reviews/2011-01-30/#Aurorean-v15-i2-Fall-Winter-2010-2011. If you're not familiar with NewPages, it's THE go-to online site for everything-literary. Journals, contests, chapbook publishers, writing programs and more.

As we move into our 16th year of publication, what's in store? We want to consistently offer our readers and contributors what they've come to expect—from our New England theme, our love for Nature and haiku, our upbeat quality, to our timely response to submissions and our punctual publication (I'm proud to say that from Volume I, Issue 1 to now, we have always published in the month promised). But what else? New ideas!

In the coming months, we will be announcing new ways for poets to recieve more reward and recognition for outstanding poetry. Poets' work will be showcased in the Aurorean with designations in addition to our now Featured Poet, Best Poem of Last Issue, and Creative Writing Student Outstanding Haiku Award. We are carefully reviewing ways to do this without taking any of the distinction away from the Featured Poet position, and without taking emphasis away from poets who may have multiple poems in an issue.

Stay tuned to our Announcements page on our website {http://www.encirclepub.com/poetry/aurorean/announcements} as we formulate these new ideas and put them into place. 2011 is just the beginning. To use Browning's words, "…the best is yet to be." Of course, at the beginning of that statement, he said, "Grow old along with me"—let's just leave the "old" part out.

*See my new brand-new blog, WritingLyme: http://writinglyme.blogspot.com

"14/17/2000/FP2007": Guest Blog from Poet Russell Rowland

2010-11-21T13:28:00.000-08:00

Hi, I’m “14/17/2000/FP2007.” Given name, Russell Rowland. My Aurorean alter ego, created by editor Cynthia especially for the 15th Anniversary Issue, tells you (and reminds me) that I have appeared in the journal fourteen times, had seventeen poems published in it since 2000, and was Featured Poet in 2007. As I remarked to Cynthia after receiving this informative moniker, she and I go back a long way. Indeed, if I’ve counted on my fingers correctly, only five contributors to the landmark issue go back farther.

Each time I turn the pages, the feeling increases that this unique suffix of numbers and letters is as special to me as my educational and professional degrees. First, and most obviously, the Aurorean is such a handsome journal. Font, format, and photography (by Cynthia) distinguish one of those publications in which one is delighted to appear, confident that one’s own work will look so darn good in context (as opposed to mags that have one biting one’s nails about what may have happened to it in its pages). When my contributor’s copy arrives, I always think, “When I finally have a book, may it look as nice as this…”

Second, the combination of “New England,” “seasons,” and “uplift” work together to produce a consistent, convincing viewpoint, that both transcends the individual contributions, and unites and reinforces them. It’s a magazine with a message: not a heavy-handed, preachy, or travelogue message, but a worldview that, like the work of a good individual poet, finds universality in the particular. Each issue seems less an anthology or miscellany than a unified statement about life as it is lived among the blessings and idiosyncrasies of a given place. And, as another editor puts it about another mag, in the Aurorean there is no “pissing or moaning” about our lot. Between its covers one finds a celebration of life in this environment, under these circumstances. It may sound trite, but for fifteen years under Cynthia’s editorship, it has encouraged our gladness to be alive.

Third, my “14/17/2000/FP2007” reveals her intentional focus in the Anniversary Issue, which is no different—just perhaps more explicit—than the focus in the issues that preceded it. This focus is, she says, “to celebrate our contributors and our relationships with them.” Nothing could say more about the personal touch she brings to editing, about why it’s a pleasure to be associated with her as a contributor, or about the kind of person she is: happy to step out of the spotlight on the auspicious anniversary, and let it shine on her poets.

I write as one who has been submitting for publication long enough to have dealt with all kinds of editors: the good, the bad, and the ugly. I have on occasion not been treated well, sometimes unintentionally and sometimes intentionally. I have received responses that might have made a less determined writer give up, aghast. I’m as aware as any writer that editors are human beings, and in a few cases flawed ones.

One is safe with the Aurorean. Submissions are treated with care, submitters with respect. Transactions are timely, predictable, professional, yet cordial. At all times it’s obvious that a warm, caring human being is at the other end, one who is a writer herself and knows what both sides of the desk are like.

It is indicative of the kind of respectful, solicitous, meticulous relationship that Cynthia has with her contributors, that she and I have become friends over the years—friends who have never laid eyes on each other (save by photo), but whose mutual regard began with the common cause of poetry and over time included details of family, illnesses, aspirations, and mutual encouragement. I have no doubt many other contributors can say the same. In theory, it ought to be problematic to mix an editor/contributor relationship with a friend/friend relationship. Warning flags about conflicts of interest pop up. But in practice, there has never been a problem. Cynthia and I have enriched and exhorted each other, in good times and hard, as friends do. We have made each other chuckle, and made each other thoughtful, as friends do.

But she has never hesitated to return a submission, with thanks and best wishes, if it didn’t seem quite right for the Aurorean, and our camaraderie has not suffered in the least. She has, thank goodness, felt no need to accept my work solely because she likes me. Indeed, our friendship often seems to benefit the editorial process. I fondly remember, when I was to be Featured Poet in 2007, the exchange of e-mails as we wrangled over one blooming line in a poem, working together to make it better, but not easily seeing eye to eye. It was a friendly wrestling match, ending in laughter. I have worked with over a hundred journal editors, and with how many do I enjoy that kind of relationship?

So, this is “14/17/2000/FP2007,” and proud to be so, signing off with the hope that, like the odometer on my car, the numbers in my Aurorean moniker will keep turning over upward—both for the sake of my development as a poet, and for the satisfaction of knowing that, not unlike our flag over Fort McHenry, the Aurorean is “still there.” Thank you, Cynthia—and I trust you can hear the affection behind those words.

——Russell Rowland is a four-time Pushcart Prize nominee, recent winner of descant’s Baskerville Publishers Poetry Award, and 2010 winner of Old Red Kimono’s Paris Lake Poetry Contest. His chapbook, Train of All Cabooses, can be ordered from Finishing Line Press. He enjoys Moxie, classical music, hiking, and snow-shoeing.

An Editor's Wish List

2010-11-01T15:05:00.000-07:00

What do editors want? I can only speak for myself, but many items such as those on my "wish list" are mentioned over and over (and over) again in writers' magazines and writers' resources. But since it's the wish list time of year, I'm happy to list mine here!

#1. Our number of subscribers would be commensurate with our number of published poets. This would insure our continued sustainability as an independent small press journal.

#2. All submitters would have seen a copy of our journal before submitting (whether said copy was purchased or borrowed). Blind submissions are the number one factor in rejections. Blind submissions waste valuable time (of editor and writer), and if we are discussing postal submissions, blind submissions waste the submitter's to-and-from postage, not to mention envelopes and paper.

#3. All submitters would have read our guidelines prior to submitting.
#3.a. All submitters would follow said guidelines after reading them.
#3.a.1. At the very least, submitters would have read one of our listings in such places as Poet's Market, Directory of Poetry Pubishers, http://www.newpages.com or http://www.duotrope.com.
#3.a.1.b. In the case of 3.a.1, submitters would follow recommendations as in #3.a.

#4. Correspondence would arrive with reference points! Hypothetical example: we receive an e-mail from bestpoet@bestpoetry.com. The e-mail says something like: "Hi, thanks for accepting my poem. When does my subscription expire?" We would be embarrassed to ask Bestpoet to identify themselves further. So, this would be better: "Dear Editors, thanks for accepting my poem, 'On Being the Best Poet' in your next issue. Could you tell me when my subscription expires? Sincerely, Jane Bestpoet.'"
#4.a The above applies to postal correspondence (such as sometimes-cryptic postcards) as well as e-mail.

#5. Submitted work would always be season/deadline appropriate. For example, I am working on some fall poems of my own. But if I were an Aurorean submitter, I would not mail them until at least next February. Why? Our Fall/Winter deadline has passed. Until next February 15th, we are reviewing for Spring/Summer even though it is only mid-autumn.

#6. Poems would always arrive with: a cover letter (or a note), indicating that the submisssion wasn't hastily thrown in an envelope and tossed in the mail, but rather, sent with some degree of forethought. (We assume here—and this goes back to reading guidelines, but always worth repeating—that poems ALWAYS arrive with SASE's.)

#7. Lastly, I wish to continue to have as many thoughtful poets, subscribers, and Aurorean friends as I do and to meet many more along the way. My wish list isn't an enumeration of wrongs committed. It ends with appreciation and gratitude for the time poets take to send their work to us, for the messages of kindness that come along with those submissions, and for the financial support our growing family of poetry friends provides.

But I must get busy making my real wish list. And I must check it twice.

Stealing Time

2010-10-07T08:00:00.000-07:00

How do we poets "make" time to write? The answer is: We don't. We cannot manufacture time. We have to grab it. We have to literally steal it. We all know how time has a way of slipping by, causing us to say things like, "Oh my goodness! I can't believe it's October" (or August, or November, or December) "already! I had so many goals for this year and it's almost gone!" Or, how about feeling as if every time you turn around, it is time to flip the calendar to a new month? Personally, I'm so tired of flipping the calendar, I want one that only displays the entire year. Why? So I can see the gravity of the situation every day. That it IS already October (or August, or November, or December). And that all those days, weeks, and months (and all those goals—accomplished or not) have already disappeared. That I can see what I have left of my year—and steal some of it before it is gone.

Lately, it's been frustratingly difficult for me to find time to write. Since 2007 I have been fighting an illness. Along with un-fun symptoms like extreme heat intolerance (making it virtually impossible to make plans outside of my air-conditioned home in the summer) and stabbing pains which sometimes morph into electric-shock-like pains or into grabbing pains (I prefer the stabbing over the latter), my major symptom is fatigue. I am extremely lucky that I do my editing and photography work from my home office. I am extremely lucky to have a supportive husband and a capable Assistant Editor.

But I am not unique—many people, writers included—are living with some kind of illness or hardship that makes finding time to write very difficult or almost impossible. And on my "poor-me" days, I just look at my father's photo on the wall—a tree-surgeon and body-builder until the age of twenty-six, when, in 1955, polio hit. He was in an iron lung for two years, and when he came home, he was a shadow of his former self, weighing under 100 pounds, paralyzed in such a way that he could walk, but could not use his arms and needed a special bed to help him breathe. He had to be fed, bathed and dressed. And he never (ever) uttered an ungrateful word. He lived until the age of seventy-one this way, learned to type with his feet, pick up the telephone with his feet, write with a pen in his mouth, and take his drinks out of the refrigerator by way of the little bit of use he had left in his fingers. I learned gratitude from a good teacher. I learned that if I thought it couldn't be done, it probably could be done.

Before my illness came on, when I was teaching, I used to advise my adult poetry writing students to "put themselves on the list"—in the sense of making writing time a priority—advice I picked up somewhere in Sarah Ban Breathnach's Simple Abundance. For a while, I was able to tread water, taking care of my editing work, health, other necessary life-priorities, and finding a bit of time to write. And then a few weeks ago, my new doctor ordered once-a-week three-hour treatments. Not too bad. But then...my new doctor is 240 miles away. So, needless to say, this takes one entire day out of our lives (my husband drives me now). Or, it takes a day and a half if we stay overnight the night before the treatments to make it a bit easier (truthfully, we haven't figured out which is easier—a fifteen-hour day—from leaving the house to returning—or packing for one night). I ( as in Cynthia, Cynthia's writing) came off that list when we began the medical traveling.

So I had to do something. I decided I had to steal some time. Nevermind wishing I had the mental energy to write when my workday was over. Nevermind hoping I could write while my three-hour IV was dripping. Nevermind thinking that time was going to throw itself at my feet and I'd be awake enough to grab it! I asked myself what could I do (what could I realistically do). And the answer was, I can fill up (or attempt to) a 4x6 card with some new writing every morning, either while the coffee is dripping, or while enjoying my coffee. I took a stack of 4x6 cards, a pencil (I like to erase), put an elastic around them and put them on my night table. Every morning (except for the mornings we leave the house at an ungodly hour for the 240-mile drive), I write on a 4x6 card. I may write a haiku. Some mornings, I am prolific enough to divide the card into two colums and I write a good first draft! But I do it. Every morning I write. Perhaps for five minutes, perhaps for thirty. But it works for me. I have put myself (my writing) back on my list! I have stolen some time before the calendar hoards it all for itself.

And it will get better, the treatments will not last forever (but long enough) and soon I will be able to have them closer to home. But no matter what, I'm going to keep stealing time. I'm going to keep doing what I think I cannot do. And I'm going to be grateful for it all. Right now, though, I'm going to go steal some alert-time to work on the Aurorean's mailing list for our 15th Anniversary Issue!

"Guest" blog from our Assistant Editor, Devin McGuire: A Tale of Two Students: Math Dilemmas, Poetry Delights

2010-09-29T13:17:00.000-07:00

A little over seven years ago I was a non-traditional college freshman at the University of Maine at Farmington, (non-traditional meaning I was thirty-two years old). I’d come seeking a Bachelor of Arts degree in Creative Writing but due to some academic deficiencies in mathematics I had yet to gain entrance into this highly touted writing program. Like many people of the literary breed, math has always been a struggle for me. It was therefore that I found myself an undeclared-major in a non-credited remedial math course for people slow with numbers. It was bad enough being a thirty-two year-old college freshman but the remedial math really threw a penumbra over the goal I was aiming for. If I struggled with basic math and algebra, how ever was I to navigate the next four years of college, or even get accepted into the selective creating writing program for which I had come?

Little did I know at the time that sitting with me on that first day of class was a kindred spirit facing the very same obstacles and fears as I. Cynthia stood out from day one not only because she was obviously non-traditional like myself, nor because of her diminutive stature, but also because as I remember it, she showed up late the first day, flustered, embarrassed, and apologetic. As bad as I felt for her it felt good to know I wasn’t the only one dealing with all those emotions and concerns. I really only vaguely recall Cynthia mentioning her poetry journal the Aurorean in that class, and I didn’t take much time to converse with her about it, either. My muse hadn’t hit yet and I was more interested in creative nonfiction at the time. More importantly though I wasn’t yet a creative writing major, and was really more concerned about passing that darn math class than chatting. Perhaps Cynthia was too, as it would have nearly been impossible to converse with her anyway owing to the fact that she stayed after class a lot to get help from the teacher or tutors from the math clinic. She was always so nice and kind though, and it was a joy just to know she was there even if she was struggling with the rest of us.

A semester later having passed the class Cynthia and I were both creative writing majors. Alas, going to a liberal arts college, neither of us was done with math yet (at this juncture, Cynthia likes to point out that she had already passed one basic and one college math class prior to coming to UMF) and we found ourselves in class together again. It was here that I took interest in Cynthia’s poetry journal. I’d been taking a poetry class and found myself enjoying it a lot and taking more readily to the form than I’d ever done before. I also knew now that as a full fledged major I’d have to complete an internship somewhere at sometime before graduation. On the first day of the new math class when we introduced and told a little about ourselves someone hiding way in the back of the class mentioned that she published a poetry journal. I spun around in my seat and there sat Cynthia way in the back. I smiled and exclaimed “Poetry!! Oh yeah that’s right! We gotta talk!” The next day she brought me a copy of the Aurorean and told me all about its beginnings and encouraged me to submit. The semester wore on; numbers danced about causing consternation and bewilderment for both Cynthia and myself. Again my focus was drawn to more pressing non-literary battles. Again Cynthia’s was too, as I could often hear her groaning from the back of class when the quizzes and tests were handed out. Then a funny thing happened. Two creative writing majors (Cynthia and I) completed the rest of college without having one single writing class together.

The spring of my junior year Cynthia graduated. At her senior reading she was one of the best poets to read and the poems she read still stick in my memory. That fall as I sat in my senior seminar class I was outwardly lamenting the fact that I hadn’t chosen an internship yet and wasn’t sure what to do. I explained to a classmate that over the course of the four years my heart had really turned to poetry but that the internships most popular among students at the time were not the places I wanted to go. I’d heard stories from former interns whom explained that they didn’t get to read any manuscripts or even perform any sort of duty that gave them a working knowledge of the poetry publishing business. Instead they were nothing more than free-labor administrative assistants and glorified gophers. I wanted something of substance from my internship. It was then that the quietest girl in the class, Katherine, spoke up and asked did I know Cynthia Brackett-Vincent, to which I replied “yes!” and did I know she’s taking on interns now? After getting Cynthia’s e-mail address from Katherine I contacted her and she said she’d be delighted to have me come on board next semester as her intern.

What I got from interning with Cynthia went far beyond anything I ever could have hoped for interning elsewhere. Cynthia didn’t look at me as free labor to help lessen her load. Instead she treated me as a pupil. My first few weeks were spent not only reading back issues of the Aurorean to get a feel for its stylistic content but she also had me reading several other small press journals to compare and contrast and get a good feel for what the small press industry was all about. Along with this a companion reading of the Small Press Review even gave a deeper understanding and appreciation for the small press world. Cynthia takes a loving interest in haiku, dedicating the back pages of every issue of the Aurorean to haiku and poems in the spirit of haiku. Owing to the fact that unlike free verse haiku is a formalized poem that goes much deeper than just the 5-7-5 syllabic guide most people are familiar with, Cynthia also had me deep into a text about haiku exploring and learning the very roots and historical arc of this ancient form of poetry. Then Cynthia handed me a copy of Poets Market and had me study it cover to cover and learn how to use it. I’d never seen Poets Market before and to this day am still flabbergasted at the fact that it along with Writers Market weren’t integral texts for creative writing majors at UMF. It’s important to learn the ropes of submitting your work for publication and this was a big failure I saw in the program I was in. In fact after having got through my first few weeks of interning for Cynthia I honestly felt like I’d been armed with more knowledge than anything I’d gotten from the whole of my creative writing program which I’d describe as a course of persistent excruciating workshopping peppered with very little study and learning things other than craft. Cynthia helped filled-in the gaps for me that I felt UMF had ignored. She even had me write up response papers to every bit of reading and instruction she had given. This to be sure I was picking up what she wanted me to from all of this. Only then after this crash course did she open up the doors to the inner workings of the Aurorean and all that went into it.

I got to read manuscripts and make comments. I mailed out acknowledgements, acceptances, and rejections. I learned Cynthia’s meticulous filing system. I helped with editing and proofing. The whole semester culminated into a finished journal that even an intern could take pride in. The last day of my internship Cynthia had me over to her home for a pizza/packing party where I helped her and her husband Eddie eat pizza, pack, label, and mail the finished product. It didn’t feel like work, it felt like a celebration.

It’s not for me to say what Cynthia saw in me that made her ask later that summer if I wouldn’t mind staying on as her part-time Assistant Editor rather than take on another intern; that’s a blog for her. I will say though that I feel fortunate she did. Before long Cynthia had me doing enough work and really allowed me to be as much of the review process where she began to feel it was silly to call me the “part-time” Assistant Editor, and decided to give me the full fledged title of Assistant Editor.

There are few things more pleasurable to me than going to the Aurorean’s post office box only to find it stuffed with submissions that I get to rip open and dig into for review. The Aurorean has established itself in the small press industry over the years so it’s always fun to see the names of established poets of minor fame cross my desk (this is to say I’m not sure any poet today could be considered to be of major fame). It’s even more fun to put on my editor’s hat and review for review’s sake and not be dazzled by the prolific publication of an established poet. I remember one poet of note whom I’d read and liked in a major anthology, someone who was really hitting his stride in the 60’s and writing some great stuff. After I tempered my excitement and read his manuscript the way expected of an editor I tossed it aside with an exclamation of “Oh my! No good! He’s lost it.” It was then that I knew I’d truly arrived as an editor.

Much of the time I spend reviewing manuscripts I come across poetry that I personally love but know that in no way was is it an Aurorean poem, or even a poem that Cynthia would like enough to publish in the broadsheet publication the Unrorean which she considers the Aurorean’s alter ego. It’s just a matter of tastes. I like lots of different styles. This is not to say Cynthia doesn’t, her bookshelf, and her own poetry is a testament to that fact, but it’s worth noting that the Aurorean isn’t a journal of eclectic poetry. We have very specific guidelines for our submissions, which in the long run has produced a journal that continues to gain new readership while retaining the subscribers we’ve had over the years. People know what to expect; they look forward to each new issue not only for its familiarity but for its freshness as well. The Fall/Winter 2010-2011 issue, due out late October marks the fifteenth anniversary for the Aurorean. It’s a fact that most poetry journals do not last this long. Marking fifteen years while still growing strong is a true testament to the quality and loving care that Cynthia continues to put into her journal. You just don’t make it this long in this business unless you are truly producing something of high quality. I’m proud to be a part of it all.

I’ve been with the Aurorean now for nearly four years. This relationship has blossomed into becoming a full-fledged member of Encircle Publications, which is the publishing company Cynthia’s graphic-designer husband Eddie Vincent co-owns with her. Eddie designs the covers for the Aurorean, which are produced from beautiful photographs taken by Cynthia. Along with the poetry side of things Encircle Publications has produced thousands of book cover designs for all sorts of books in the fiction/nonfiction genre as well as promotional materials for many authors and clients. The company is currently growing its graphic design department and expanding into the e-book field and other publishing avenues. I am very much happy to be a part of these endeavors and owe much of my gratitude to Cynthia for believing in me and having me come on board. Because of Cynthia’s belief in me she granted me the editorship of her broadsheet the Unrorean. Now I’m at the helm of a publication that I too wish to nurture and watch gain readership and growth. I’ve certainly learned from a great teacher how to accomplish this.

I thank the readers of this blog for hearing my story and invite all of you to congratulate Cynthia for her amazing accomplishment in guiding the Aurorean through fifteen years of publication. Here’s to fifteen more!

-Asst. Ed. Devin McGuire

Coffee Across America, or the World?

2010-09-03T14:51:00.000-07:00

At the end of my last blog, I mentioned that I wish I could sit down with all of the Aurorean's poets. When I first started the Aurorean, I always intended to hang up a National Geographic-sized world map and stick a pin in specific locations that represent each poet published. I never did that. I wish I did.

My husband and I have always talked about something of a tour, a road trip if you will, called Coffee Across America. We envisioned hitting the road (between issues, of course), and attempting to have a cup of coffee (or tea, or whatever) with every poet I've published (at least those reachable by land, and of course, those that are not deceased). Now, I think, if I could do it (if I had the time/the motor home, the finances/the full-time until-further-notice Assistant Editor), I'd probably spend the rest of my life doing it. Because there are so many. Because a cup of coffee is never enough! We'd talk poetry into the wee hours and my trip would consequently and consistently get off-schedule. And I'd never get back to my corner of Maine to resume publishing the Aurorean. And that doesn't even address the issue of visiting with poets in places like Malta, Germany, Uzbekistan.

I'm fortunate to have met many of "my" poets over the years—at readings and poetry gatherings. But most of the "meeting" is by letter, by e-mail, and sometimes social networking. And each meeting is special, whether it's someone brand new to us or someone whose handwriting is so familiar by now that I can spot their submission in a big stack of mail. We'll continue to cherish those personal connections and meetings as long as we publish.

But just in case, if anyone knows anyone who'd like to finance a poetic road trip, you know where to find me.

Building A Rep

2010-08-02T10:05:00.000-07:00

The other day, I took my foot-long, just-about-full-to-its-limit 4x6 card file out and told my husband and Assistant Editor that I was leaving with our 1,000+ poets. Later in the day, I placed the card file back in the gray metal cabinet where it is kept, and said that I was now leaving the poets to themselves, envisioning 1,000+ Aurorean poets gathered together for the evening, perhaps enjoying some lively poetic discussion.

We set out to be different in one distinct way: we set out to treat poets the way I'd want to be treated as a poet. This involves, for one thing, the infamous black hole. This is where one's poetry goes (most often) when it is sent out to a publisher. There are two types of black holes. One, the black holes in which one has no idea where one's poetry has gone off to (like an errant space ship)—specifically, if one's poetry actually arrived at said publisher. Two, the black holes from which it may never return (those hopeful groups of poetry that are forever lost, about whose fate said poet never hears a word).

At the Aurorean, we thought the answer to black holes were twofold, yet simple. 1) Let people know their poetry was received. 2) Reply to poets' work within the time promised. Therefore, it won't take a NASA scientist trained in fearsome intergalactic black holes to come to a reasonable conclusion about the whereabouts of one's submission. 1) If we didn't acknowledge your work, we didn't receive it (or, you didn't enclose an SASE, but that's another blog for another day). 2) If we didn't reply to your work in the time promised, we didn't receive it (or, same parenthetical disclaimer as above).

Simple. Yes, this takes a bit of extra time. Yes, it takes a bit of extra investment when we don't have an e-mail address for submitters and need to acknowledge their work by postcard. But really, isn't it worth it? For the peace of mind? To show poets that we care and are ever-mindful that without their submissions, we are nothing (well, we might be a lovely cover, a letter to no one from me, and all blank pages, but that's all we'd be without our submitters). That we know what it's like to have our work sucked into a black hole.

What does all this have to do with my 4x6 card file? Well, this is what houses a 4x6 card for every poet who has ever appeared on our pages. Some poets have been with us since almost the beginning and have 3 4x6 cards stapled together. A poet's card contains their most recent contact information, and a notation on every appearance with us. It is a history of our relationship with each poet, in that they thought enough of us to send their work our way. In that we found a poem—or a certain number of poems—penned by this poet that we felt fit our journal. In that they have continued to think enough of us to keep sending us their poetry, in that we have continued to find gems in their submission envelopes.

I wish I could sit down and chat with all of our poets. But for now, they are all holding a very important meeting in a file box. Perhaps they are workshopping. Perhaps they are working on sending us their next batch of work—which we will acknowledge with a smile, and reply to within three months (unless they forget their SASE).

The Good, the Really Good, the Unwanteds and the Ugly

2010-07-21T12:18:00.000-07:00

It occurs to me that there are just two dozen days left for poets to submit for our Fifteenth Anniversary Issue—a thought that leads me (again) back in time—back over a dozen plus years of editing and publishing the Aurorean.

I recall the assembly line on our kitchen counter as we printed out, collated and stapled our first issue. Things got ugly when my husband sliced his hand with an X-Acto knife while trimming covers. He says he still has the scar. But things were good again when (once he was bandaged up), all the debut journals were collated, folded, and stapled together.

I was so proud of my little magazine (which is what my mother called it—not a huge fan of poetry, she was just proud that her daughter had her own "little magazine" and she kept each successive issue on her bureau until her death in 1999). I loved the clip art and even the gray paper we chose for the first cover. I was overjoyed to mail that first issue to its thirteen contributors and our two subscribers (mind you, most of the contributors were either friends/writers or fellow Creative Writing students).

I have always been proud of my little magazine. I can look back, and see where improvement needed to be made. I can shake my head at my own naiveté. But each step, each issue, each poem I read, each poet we have published, has helped to make it what it is today. And it steadily did improve. The quality of poetry could only improve as I learned more about poetry, as more poets learned of the Aurorean, and as its reputation grew. We were lucky to be feautre-profiled in Poet's Market four years into our journey. Lucky, because the word was getting out.

That high led to some of the unwanteds that come with being more well-known. Those include receiving KKK-propoganda poetry (a KKK acrostic, no less; I didn't want to believe it was what it was so I asked my then Creative Writing professor to look at it, and she said, "of course it is! Why would you think it isn't? Look at all those K's going down the left-hand side!"), being threatened because I wouldn't publish another poet, having yet another poet cancel her subscription because (I paraphrase) her poetry was just as good as anyone's in the journal, yet I had rejected hers.

And here we are this very day, a short time before deadline on a milestone issue. No hate poetry in the mail today, no threatening letters. Instead, some very hopeful-looking submissions, an order for the next issue, a bio and a very kind letter from a poet whose poetry we have accepted, among other items. It's a really good day.

Working Up to 15 Years

2010-07-12T16:30:00.000-07:00

Looking back at the past almost-15 years of publishing a small-press poetry journal, I had no idea where it would lead me. I wouldn't have guessed that in our 10th year of publication we would move from Massachusetts to the Great State of Maine, or that in the same year I would receive my BFA in Creative Writing.

I couldn't have envisioned needing the help of an Assistant Editor. I couldn't have envisioned publishing over 1,000 poets in this fleeting time. I could only wish for the type of response the Aurorean has received so far from contributors, readers, and reviewers such as Small Press Review.

To put out that first issue, I begged and cajoled fellow writers in a Creative Writing class to submit their work. Not surprisingly, many of them did just that. Surprisingly, the Creative Writing professors did the same. We started humble.

I hope we remain humble. We still appreciate each and every poet who sends us their work. Without them, the Aurorean would be a bunch of blank pages—although a neat idea.

As we move into the last month before deadline on our 15th Anniversary Issue, I cannot wait to read every poem that comes our way. I cannot wait to decide which two poets will be featured in this milestone issue. I cannot wait until every i is dotted, every t is crossed. I can't wait until the box of freshly-printed journals arrives from our printer.

And I can't wait to see what's in store for the next 15!

—Cynthia