Q & A: Chapbook Publishers
Emily Brandt and Alex Cuff on No, Dear
As part of the THE NYC/CUNY CHAPBOOK FESTIVAL on Thursday, April 2 from 10AM – 7PM at The Graduate Center, CUNY, we are presenting interviews with some of the chapbook publishers who will be taking part in the festival.
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What is your own personal history with chapbooks? How did they first catch your interest?
We've both been reading and admiring chapbooks for over a decade. The form is so inviting and accessible, and such a perfect way to be introduced to a writer whose work you don't know. A chapbook is like that first conversation at a party - it can be super amazing, or fall a little flat. When it's amazing, it opens up a totally new relationship with a writer's work. One of our favorite things is reading the first book of someone who's chapbook blew us away.
What made you first decide to start publishing chapbooks?
When No, Dear was born, almost eight years ago, we discussed eventually publishing chapbooks in addition to the journal. The conversation always came back to this form. We chatted about it with the brilliant Jen Hyde from Small Anchor Press a few years ago, and decided to collaborate on one. Now we're working on our fourth. We see it as an extension of the work we're already doing to publish emerging poets in New York City. It also deepens our relationship to a particular poet's work—our first three chapbooks were written by poets who we'd previously published in No, Dear.
Could you talk a little bit about your own process of making and publishing chapbooks?
The three of us (Alex, Emily, and Jen) read submissions via Submittable, ensuring that everything gets read by at least two of us. We come up with a short list of finalists to discuss in person, and then meet up and read each collection aloud, discussing the work's impact on us. The hardest part is narrowing it down to just one manuscript. Production is definitely a collaboration between us three, the poet, and any artist(s) we bring in for visuals.
What is unique about the chapbook form, or why chapbooks and not book-books?
A chapbook often represents a singular moment or obsession for the writer. Unlike a full-length book, it can be a small handful of poems placed in intimate relation to the design of the chapbook. Similar to the journal we publish twice a year, we like that a chapbook can be read and reread over the course of a subway ride.
Do you have recent favorite chapbooks from another press?
A few favorites: Nature Poem, self-published by Tommy Pico, Wife by Caitie Moore (Argos Books), For Love or Money by Sarah Jaffe and Melissa Gira Grant (Guillotine), The Happy End by Mónica de la Torre (The Song Cave), A History of the Human Family by Sasha Steensen and (Ir)Rational Animals by Steven Karl (Flying Guillotine), Mala by Monica McClure (Poor Claudia), POEMS by Joshua Beckman (Brother in Elysium), Legal Pure by Eric Amling (Greying Ghost).
What does it mean to the chapbook and experimental publishing community to come together and compare projects once a year at the CUNY Chapbook Festival?
It's a chance to stock up, experience writers whose books haven't come out yet, and talk to other publishers. And it's a validation that the love for book-making and poetry is alive and that the community is pouring resources into making sure that poets are read.
More Q & A: Chapbook Publishers
Rob Schlegel on The Catenary Press
In college, I made chapbooks and gave them away to family and friends. I loved every part of the process, but especially writing the poems and figuring out how to orient them on the page and then making the paper pass happily through the printer. I also loved designing my own covers with fancy paper from a local office-supply store called Oregon Stationers.Read Article
Kit Frick on Black Lawrence Press
I was first introduced to chapbooks in college. One of my first poetry professors, Jeffrey McDaniel at Sarah Lawrence College, brought a few from his personal collection into one of our workshops. What I loved most about chapbooks right from the start was how different and special they all were. Saddle-stitched, perfect bound, glue-gunned and stapled, you name it. They were everything I loved about books: you could tell they were a real collaboration between the author and the press. There was something immediately special about them.Read Article