Tuesday, July 17, 2012

how I figure out to buy a book of poems or not

So you know how a book cover/title/display/what-have-you will catch your attention?  But then the side of your brain that believes in logic, even after you've been focusing on the existence of that book for a weighted moment, reminds you of how your bank account is a cliche punchline for some crappy joke about young, aspiring artists who work in the nonprofit world?  Well, here's how I decide if I am going to purchase that book anyway.
  1. Briefly skim the front and back covers.  It's marketing, so I don't invest too much in it, but I do see if something pops out.  For example, one book was called "Driving and Drinking" and was put out by Copper Canyon Press, one of the biggest independent poetry publishers with a solid track record.  Then I read the back and saw that it is a long monologue in verse split into three parts.  That was more than enough to tell me I wanted to read it.  Throw down my $4 at the used book store, and now I'm a David Lee fan.  Two books of his later, he's been one of the more influential poets to me.  Another example was finding a book of poems, all in persona of different monstrous and godly mythical and historical speakers, by Frieda Hughes, the daughter of Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath.  Felt compelled to have it out of curiosity, but it was very well done.
  2. Read three poems from different parts of the book.  So there's not enough on the cover to get me to throw down the relatively few bucks a book of poems costs.  I read the first poem, as it does a lot to set up the world of a well developed book.  If it's enough to keep me interested in what this book might have to offer, I open to a random poem around the middle to see the range of the poetry as well as to get an idea for the sustained quality of the writing.  Then, even if it's a bit disappointing, (some of my favorite books have poems I really didn't initially like) I find a poem near the end.  Not the last poem, as that may give away some of the initial suspense/allure of the book's arc, but this poem helps me decide.  If there's at least three good poems in the book, or two good poems and one that might come across stronger in the context of a full book, I purchase it.  If I'm uncertain, but there's enough things that interest me and the price isn't too bad, I probably purchase it anyway.
So that's roughly the approach.  To justify the money, I always think of the book as an investment, and remind myself of all the times I took books out of the library and spent half my time reading trying to resist the urge to write notes in them.  And then I look at my book shelf and know I still haven't read about a third of them.  But then I remember how many books I read years after purchasing, and how much they floored me, and how can I say no to bringing a worthy friend home?

Book On,
Jason

1 comment:

  1. HI JASON I MISS YO UGLY FACE! (Also, hey, you have a blog!)

    I (almost) never feel guilty for buying a book because I find having a shelf full of possibilities so conducive to creativity, whether I'm doing a good job reading every book I own or not, and I know any book I love will be an investment because I reread books I love again and again.

    I should add to this that I just bought a kindle with my poetry grant and have been combatting my guilt (and proving my love for tangible paper books) by buying a bunch of paperbacks instead of kindle versions. Ack.

    It's 4:30 am and I am in a poetry mood.

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