It has taken me a long time to find the writing community where I belong. I am happy to have a steady publisher whom I respect and trust. Happy to be in a few journals I love. Today I will finish a blurb for a good book. Look over a manuscript for a workshop poet before she sends it off to be published. I will read lots of poems. I love my tribe.
Since poetry books and poetry journals nourish me, I've lately been inspired to write reviews that help showcase the poetry books I enjoy. I seek out / query journals and publications I've been nourished by in hopes they publish these reviews.
For me, it is my daily sharing of posts on Facebook for animals in need. I think of that as involvement in a network, a virtual community. But I also feel there’s a significant difference between a network and a community. Really, for me “community” has IRL built into it.
people I interact with on social media outnumbers the ones I interact with face to face. That’s neither good nor bad but just how things are, at present.
I find it quite difficult to modify my writing to more attune with what I feel that the majority of readers I come across tend to enjoy (that was a mouthful). Perhaps i'm just stubborn, or maybe I just haven't been publishing poems long enough to 'grow' as a poet. In any case, I am currently in a 'stick to my guns' mode with regards to the niche in which I feel comfortable.
I think I am feeling a sense (possibly misguided) that I want to do something to gain more readers. My niche is very small - poems imbued with word-play and double-meanings to a possibly excessive degree, often leading to what I suspect is either misunderstanding or bewilderment or both - and I recognized when I started my poetic journey that the niche i chose would be small, given the small intersection (from what i've seen) of people who love puzzles and people who love poetry - so a small readership is not unexpected. Nevertheless I can't seem to shake a sense of disappointment at the size of my audience. I then reach the conclusion that if I really want to increase my audience size, I should temper the word-play and double-meanings in my work on the theory that doing so would increase readership. But then that lessens my satisfaction in my own work - the reason that I write such poems is because I enjoy doing so, and if an attempt to expand readership lessens the enjoyment of what I am doing, then a part of me (the "stick-to-my-guns part") concludes that I should stick to what I am doing - yet that of course fails to remove my disappointment at a stagnant number of readers. My interpretation of your take on this is that seeking to increase readership is not worth it if the writer is not intent on gaining fame (which i am not, so far as I can tell - though I have yet to pinpoint the most likely reason of my feeling of disappointment vis-a-vis readership numbers). I'm sure this is an age-old problem experienced by artists of all kinds throughout the ages, so it's not an unfamiliar problem. It could be more related to a psychological sense of worth, as opposed to an objective analysis of cause and effect and what I should expect to feel given adherence to prescriptive actions resulting from that analysis.
First, thank you for this additional food for thought.
I'm fairly certainly I'll be sharing much of the following in a future essay.
*
So the key, perhaps one of the many small keys to happiness (?), is the pursuit of True Believers. Insofar as gaining readership, it’s those readers who really love your work, who look forward to reading your poems, who can’t wait for you to publish new poems, and who re-read your work. It’s also those editors who champion your work, encourage you to create new work, and insist that YES you really do have an audience.
*
Your note about niche & the mention of “possibly to an excessive degree”, combined, suggest may a little bit too much of self-indulgence in your work. Something to think about.
And you touched on a cross-section of readership who enjoy puzzles and poetry.
A little bit of added “Easter eggs” for your readership to enjoy puzzling out can be fine and sometimes good; that being said, mystery for the sake of mystery, much like l’art pour l’art, is problematic. I go back to the “readers aren’t mind readers” concept fairly often. Serious readers enjoy doing a little bit of mental gymnastics—but only so much. There’s a line. There’s also a line for hand-holding. Too much hand-holding and the poem feels obvious, not enough and the poem seems impenetrable (a lack of access points for readers).
*
Let me ask you a question.
How do you know the size of your audience?
I certainly would not base this on book sales.
Readership in the form of “clicks” on online lit mags are usually not public information.
Wondering what is giving you this perception that your work is underread and, reading between the lines, undervalued?
*
You answer some of the most important questions yourself.
Write for yourself, first and foremost. Always.
Don’t try too hard to write for an imaginary audience.
Don’t try to court an imaginary audience.
Don’t [over]think that you know your readership.
Your readership needs to grow with you / your work.
Leave readers wanting more. (Essential advice for giving readings too, just to say.)
*
Again, I’m coming back to you answering your own questions.
If tempering the part of the poetry that brings you delight is the only path towards readership then there is a question or what is for private enjoyment (private poetry) and what is for public consumption.
Once you reach the point of taking the audience into consideration, you’re going to have to, well, accommodate theoretical readers. But at what expense?
There’s a cost-benefit analysis. What is gained? What is lost? Is the self-satisfaction worth it? Are you reaching the readers that you want to reach if you dilute your poems?
It’s a lot easier to ask the questions than to answer them.
But, again, don’t cheat yourself on your personal enjoyment. After all, what then is the point?
*
As you noted, I believe that attempts to capture fame will typically be misguided and unrealistic. My understanding is most people who have achieved a certain level of fame will tell you there’s nothing really there. It has not fulfilled the expectations within. This is a little different within the microcosm of the literary community (and the smaller poetry community) compared to mainstream pop culture where it is notoriously “lonely at the top”. Getting attention in the literary community can clearly be a joy.
*
I think you’ve pinpointed that, indeed, this is an “age-old problem” for artists.
The trade-offs.
Keen awareness that there is inevitably a self-esteem / self-worth component at play. We’re all susceptible to this.
*
Let’s acknowledge that some of the frustration relates to others who are given more attention, a larger following, a broader platform to speak from, that (at least in our mind) do not seem to be those who are most-deserving of their station.
This is certainly where some of the jealousy and envy stems from.
We’re often a bit baffled as to those who seem highly successful.
You start asking yourself, what have I done wrong or failed to do right?
Basically, why not me?
The answer is of course more complicated.
As noted earlier, all communities are microcosms of the larger culture. I don’t think I need to state all the questionable reasons and ways our culture lifts some up and fails to recognize others.
It has taken me a long time to find the writing community where I belong. I am happy to have a steady publisher whom I respect and trust. Happy to be in a few journals I love. Today I will finish a blurb for a good book. Look over a manuscript for a workshop poet before she sends it off to be published. I will read lots of poems. I love my tribe.
💜💜
Since poetry books and poetry journals nourish me, I've lately been inspired to write reviews that help showcase the poetry books I enjoy. I seek out / query journals and publications I've been nourished by in hopes they publish these reviews.
For me, it is my daily sharing of posts on Facebook for animals in need. I think of that as involvement in a network, a virtual community. But I also feel there’s a significant difference between a network and a community. Really, for me “community” has IRL built into it.
You're right, Peter.
The need for more IRL interaction is something most of us desperately need.
Thanks, Mark. I think the
people I interact with on social media outnumbers the ones I interact with face to face. That’s neither good nor bad but just how things are, at present.
I see very few people face to face so...
I find it quite difficult to modify my writing to more attune with what I feel that the majority of readers I come across tend to enjoy (that was a mouthful). Perhaps i'm just stubborn, or maybe I just haven't been publishing poems long enough to 'grow' as a poet. In any case, I am currently in a 'stick to my guns' mode with regards to the niche in which I feel comfortable.
I'd like to hear more if you're up for elaborating ~
I think I am feeling a sense (possibly misguided) that I want to do something to gain more readers. My niche is very small - poems imbued with word-play and double-meanings to a possibly excessive degree, often leading to what I suspect is either misunderstanding or bewilderment or both - and I recognized when I started my poetic journey that the niche i chose would be small, given the small intersection (from what i've seen) of people who love puzzles and people who love poetry - so a small readership is not unexpected. Nevertheless I can't seem to shake a sense of disappointment at the size of my audience. I then reach the conclusion that if I really want to increase my audience size, I should temper the word-play and double-meanings in my work on the theory that doing so would increase readership. But then that lessens my satisfaction in my own work - the reason that I write such poems is because I enjoy doing so, and if an attempt to expand readership lessens the enjoyment of what I am doing, then a part of me (the "stick-to-my-guns part") concludes that I should stick to what I am doing - yet that of course fails to remove my disappointment at a stagnant number of readers. My interpretation of your take on this is that seeking to increase readership is not worth it if the writer is not intent on gaining fame (which i am not, so far as I can tell - though I have yet to pinpoint the most likely reason of my feeling of disappointment vis-a-vis readership numbers). I'm sure this is an age-old problem experienced by artists of all kinds throughout the ages, so it's not an unfamiliar problem. It could be more related to a psychological sense of worth, as opposed to an objective analysis of cause and effect and what I should expect to feel given adherence to prescriptive actions resulting from that analysis.
First, thank you for this additional food for thought.
I'm fairly certainly I'll be sharing much of the following in a future essay.
*
So the key, perhaps one of the many small keys to happiness (?), is the pursuit of True Believers. Insofar as gaining readership, it’s those readers who really love your work, who look forward to reading your poems, who can’t wait for you to publish new poems, and who re-read your work. It’s also those editors who champion your work, encourage you to create new work, and insist that YES you really do have an audience.
*
Your note about niche & the mention of “possibly to an excessive degree”, combined, suggest may a little bit too much of self-indulgence in your work. Something to think about.
And you touched on a cross-section of readership who enjoy puzzles and poetry.
A little bit of added “Easter eggs” for your readership to enjoy puzzling out can be fine and sometimes good; that being said, mystery for the sake of mystery, much like l’art pour l’art, is problematic. I go back to the “readers aren’t mind readers” concept fairly often. Serious readers enjoy doing a little bit of mental gymnastics—but only so much. There’s a line. There’s also a line for hand-holding. Too much hand-holding and the poem feels obvious, not enough and the poem seems impenetrable (a lack of access points for readers).
*
Let me ask you a question.
How do you know the size of your audience?
I certainly would not base this on book sales.
Readership in the form of “clicks” on online lit mags are usually not public information.
Wondering what is giving you this perception that your work is underread and, reading between the lines, undervalued?
*
You answer some of the most important questions yourself.
Write for yourself, first and foremost. Always.
Don’t try too hard to write for an imaginary audience.
Don’t try to court an imaginary audience.
Don’t [over]think that you know your readership.
Your readership needs to grow with you / your work.
Leave readers wanting more. (Essential advice for giving readings too, just to say.)
*
Again, I’m coming back to you answering your own questions.
If tempering the part of the poetry that brings you delight is the only path towards readership then there is a question or what is for private enjoyment (private poetry) and what is for public consumption.
Once you reach the point of taking the audience into consideration, you’re going to have to, well, accommodate theoretical readers. But at what expense?
There’s a cost-benefit analysis. What is gained? What is lost? Is the self-satisfaction worth it? Are you reaching the readers that you want to reach if you dilute your poems?
It’s a lot easier to ask the questions than to answer them.
But, again, don’t cheat yourself on your personal enjoyment. After all, what then is the point?
*
As you noted, I believe that attempts to capture fame will typically be misguided and unrealistic. My understanding is most people who have achieved a certain level of fame will tell you there’s nothing really there. It has not fulfilled the expectations within. This is a little different within the microcosm of the literary community (and the smaller poetry community) compared to mainstream pop culture where it is notoriously “lonely at the top”. Getting attention in the literary community can clearly be a joy.
*
I think you’ve pinpointed that, indeed, this is an “age-old problem” for artists.
The trade-offs.
Keen awareness that there is inevitably a self-esteem / self-worth component at play. We’re all susceptible to this.
*
Let’s acknowledge that some of the frustration relates to others who are given more attention, a larger following, a broader platform to speak from, that (at least in our mind) do not seem to be those who are most-deserving of their station.
This is certainly where some of the jealousy and envy stems from.
We’re often a bit baffled as to those who seem highly successful.
You start asking yourself, what have I done wrong or failed to do right?
Basically, why not me?
The answer is of course more complicated.
As noted earlier, all communities are microcosms of the larger culture. I don’t think I need to state all the questionable reasons and ways our culture lifts some up and fails to recognize others.