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Penelope Shuttle: How many
sleepless nights did Stride cause you?
Over the years a fair few. I think there was one period when I'd got a bank
loan and was trying to crack the bookshops that was the worst. I made the
mistake of believing some of the arts council nonsense about marketing and
publicity, and started to believe my own cashflow projections and hype! I
have William Oxley to thank in the end: he took me aside at someone else's
launch party and calmly pointed out that it wasn't worth losing my marriage,
house or sanity for the sake of a few books of poetry, or at the risk of
upsetting a few authors. He was right, too!
Matt Simpson: What kind and quality of feedback do you get from readers?
Very little, truth be told. I learnt early on that I am fairly unusual in the
breadth and amount of poetry I read. Most people don't buy books because of
the publishers {ie there are no 'Stride readers' who bought everything we
published), and of course most of us don't feel inclined to write to the
publishers to voice our opinion as readers. So, really, feedback only came
from conversations at launch events or readings, and from reading the
reviews. Word of mouth and enthusiasm still works wonders though.
Roselle Angwin: In a parallel life in which books, music and art didn't
figure, by what would the editor in
you have been most inspired?
What a dreadful world to live in! And what a cruel question! I guess film
might have to be in there, and sailing. I studied pure and applied maths in
the sixth form, too, so perhaps mathematics. Maybe history? It's taken me a
long time to realise how many, if not all, subjects are interconnected and
interrelated. I hated history at school, but of course it is a combination of
literature and archeology, with a sprinkling of politcs, sociology and
cultural studies.
Martyn Bates: How dificult has it been to constantly have (at least) two hats
to wear?
I don't mind that, I think that's real life. I've painted, published and
written for over 25 years now. It's more to do with time management, and for
me that's become simply a lack of time and energy as I get older. As you
know, I got my first 'proper' job a couple of years ago which I love. Doing
the required lectures, seminars and preparation then coming home to a small
village is exactly what I need right now. A simplification and clarity. (Sort of, anyway. I mean
I'm still painting, writing and running Stride magazine.)
Geoffrey Godbert: I never quite understood why you
published my anthology of prose poems about which you seemed blisteringly
indifferent from start to reviews. Why did you publish it?
I published it because I love prose poetry and Freedom to Breathe was an exciting and wide-ranging overview of the genre!
In fact it did very well for us, and I know it's used on courses at several
universities. I wonder if the question really relates to me refusing to send
more than a certain number of review copies out, and knowing that reviews
don't sell books, they simply provide quotes for the next book; and my
unwilligness to go out of pocket on launches? I never understood the point of
travelling to London to buy lots of people a drink, endure a poetry reading
(I loathe most poetry readings) and then sell half-a-dozen books to people
who would have mail-ordered one or bought a copy from the author anyway! Good
launch? Yes, lost us 200 pounds and 36 hours of my life - excellent. Maybe
you caught me at a particularly cynical period in my publishing career
(career?!)? Perhaps at the point where I realised the book trade was
changing, that Stride books were never going to conquer the world, and that
chasing the book chains was a waste of time (certainly using the reps we were
using at the time). I realised the book chains and lazy readerships had to be
outwitted and cajoled, not encouraged. The dozen or so books of poetry on
most Waterstones shelves is testament to that change and laziness. Readers
now come from the author's and publisher's extended social and literary
networks, very rarely from huge publicity and marketing campaigns. And of
course, print-on-demand printing means it doesn't matter if only a few copies
of a title sells - I think we are going to see more and more splintering of
groups, smaller and smaller readerships and clusters of interested parties,
but these small groups will probably be more and more geographically
extended. Like the music industry, we may also have to take on board that our
art form is no longer a valid currency, that its value is cultural not
monetary. I believe that can be taken as a positive. I mean in many ways
poetry itself has never been sellable but workshops, teaching, publishing and
performance have. I am now more interested in readers than book sales for my
own work - and they are very different things.
Let me reiterate I was never blisteringly indifferent!
Mike Ferguson: How do you honestly feel about striding towards this poetic
death?
Relief mainly, to be honest. The press has been part of my life since the
early 80s, and I'm proud of what I've achieved and most of the titles I've
published. But I really don't think I'm competing any more. I feel that I've
done my bit and someone else can do it now. In fact others like Shearsman and
Salt are doing it, and doing it a lot
better; and there are a lot of interesting and energetic new small presses
and magazines around.
Sheila Murphy: How has your experience of leading an important publishing
venture influenced your own textual and visual art?
It's allowed dialogue and debate with a wide range of practicioners, readers
and critics around the world, which certainly allowed me to engage with a lot
of different styles, genres and forms of poetry. I still get a lot of review
copies through the door for Stride
magazine, and I still talk to many writers such as yourself, about the whys
and hows and therefores of writing. In fact your work was probably my first
introduction to American experimental writing, just as coming across a book
of David Miller's work at a Shrewsbury book fair introduced me to prose
poetry. Recommendations of authors, gifts of books, namechecks, and
manuscript submissions all opened my eyes. I am a voracious reader and remain
interested in possibilities.
I probably find it harder to think how editing Stride has fed into my
painting. I guess there was a period when Andy Brown and I were really
clashing about how language worked, along with Tony Lopez's MA classes, that
really changed my practice. This was when I was writing what the poems that
would become The Museum of Light.
To realise that words could be as flexible and fluid as paint, as abstract
and patterned was actually shocking. I stopped writing for several months!
I think after that initial shock, it was good to get to grips with some
critical writing, contemporary poetics, as well as the poetry itself. Robert
Sheppard has been a great help (possibly without him realising it) in this
matter, and the writings of Charles Bernstein, Marjorie Perloff and Anne
Lauterbach have been particularly important for me. Most of this writing
makes explicit the links between the visual arts, cultural theory and
language. More and more, I think writers need to engage with the whys of their writing as much as the hows. Something, of course, I keep telling my students.
Morgan Bryan: If you were going to start Stride now, in 2008, how would that
affect they way you would approach it?
I'd probably talk myself out of it to be honest. Otherwise I could see it
going two ways. Firstly, with what I now know, I might borrow a large amount
of money and/or apply for a massive grant, and if succesful publish a large
amount of good-looking books using print-on-demand technology. I would pay
for someone else to market them, although I have no idea how this might work
or actually sell books - it's the part of publishing I have never mastered,
with or without help. Secondly, I might use the web to start a forum/blog,
and a photocopier to produce good-looking pamphlets (chapbooks) for those who
wanted them. I'd probably number them so down the line they might be
collectable items. I might emphasise the handmade nature of these. I wouldn't
worry about huge print runs, and I wouldn't spend money I didn't have. In
fact I think I really have talked myself out of the first option.
David Grubb: Having published so many writers over the twenty six
years,poetry and prose, do you think that such poetry and prose on the page
is bound to be have a limited readership because there are so many good Small
Presses or because of electronic publishing and is not the obvious route CDs
,for poetry at least?
Heaven help us! I have no wish to have to listen to poetry on CD... I'm afraid
I like my poetry on the page - the visual layout can be just as important as
the sound of a poem read aloud; in fact it can often be the deciding factor.
I think poetry is often too complex and layered to get across in a single
performance, to hear in one listen.
I don't think prose has a small readership, and I don't think poetry does
actually, it just has a small paying audience. I do think there's an argument
that art forms are of their time, and the popularity of various genres and
types of art can change. I think we're seeing that with music, along with
poetry - maybe they have no current financial value, only a cultural one. I
still haven't found any age group who can read very well on the screen - my
students still print stuff out, the same as me.
Peter Finch: You started the press out of need and desire and then I guess
got used to that, satisfied the need, fulfilled the desire, saw poets into
print, felt good about it, etc. But that feeling only lasts for a while and
after time the whole process becomes much more automatic. Why did you
continue for so long?
The simple answer is I'm someone who has always stuck at things, I think
that's how you make things work. I also think you could divide Stride up into
various 'eras': an initial exuberance and apprenticeship; a period of slowing
down and learning to produce paperbacks not pamphlets; a period when we had
bookshop distribution, arts council funding and other grant aid, and were
chasing a diminishing book trade; a fourth period when we were selling and
distributing our own books again via the Salt website and mail order; and a
final period when I published very little, but did do The Peter Redgrove
Library as a separate project - which was very exciting and worthwile.
I've always felt good about getting work into print, still do. And I think we
produced some really stylish and visually exciting-looking paperback titles,
We sold 30,000 copies of one of our anthologies for children, we helped focus
attention on the prose poem, we brought some important American authors into
print in the UK (I mean why was no-one publishing Charles Wright or Robert
Lax in the UK?). I genuinely don't know how to work as a publisher any more
when anyone can read work online, or order American editions via Amazon.
I do, however, still like putting out my own pamphlets, and pulling together
the magazine of student work at university, and running the 'Poetry for
Publication' unit our third years do. So I'm not quite as jaded or on
automatic as you might think.
A.C. Evans: Do you consider your own writing to be linguistically innovative,
if so how should the reader respond to innovation?
No, I don't think I do - not in any modernist sense of being 'avant-garde' or
'forging ahead'. I think I use a number of by now well-established processes
to produce my work. That's all. Some of these methods of writing have been
associated with various schools of poetry. The reader can do what they want
(and they do), but I get angry with people who think poems have to be
immediately accessible, 'true' or heartfelt, who want them to 'say something'
or move them. I'm interested in the stuff poems are made with as much as the
content.
David Chorlton: What comparisons are you able to draw between poetry
publishing in Great Britain and the USA? I'll keep it simple, though I am
interested in whatever observations you've been able to draw regarding
readership in the two countries.
The grass always looks greener... but, as my friend says, it still needs
mowing. From the UK the small press scene in the States looks exciting and
alive, but most of the authors I am in touch with over there tell me how
parochial, limited, incestuous and dull it is. I'm always amazed how exciting
UK poetry sometimes seems from the States. I'd say the main difference - and
it applies to many things, not just poetry - is the size of America means
most people can find a niche for themselves and their work, in a way that
isn't as true over here. The standard of living remains much higher in
America, in my experience, so I suspect there is often more disposable income
to purchase books with or spend producing them; if you choose not to engage
with consumerism (or buy health care and new cars) it's clear you can live
cheaply within America in a way no longer possible over here.
I think there are cliques, schools, movements and networks in both countries.
They are evolving and changing because of the web, and because in the last
few years there seems to have been a shake-up and reconsideration of 20th
century poetry. This has included a large number of selected and collected, a
lot of critical essays and articles, a lot of arguments and debate. This is
all good, and even if it isn't, it's the way things are. It's easier than
ever to get hold of any poetry you want these days and ignore the canon or the
mainstream if you wish to do that.
Jay Ramsay: Why is important to publish poetry that most people don't want
to read? ('Most people ignore most poetry because most poetry ignores most
people' - Adrian Mitchell)
It's important because the arts leaven society. I don't believe they change
people directly - that is punk rebel songs don't bring governments down, but
human beings need music, writing, song, dance, theatre, painting, to live
balanced lives, to be truly healthy. More than ever Western capitalist
society is homogenized and whilst pretending to offer more choice actually
offers less. I am very optimistic that the web and small publishers means
poets can work around and outside the established booktrade to find a
readership. I'm quite happy for that readership to be small and spread out
rather than seek (or expect) mass sales. I've always had to deal with the
fact that my paintings find a home on someone's wall and are gone; with
poetry that doesn't happen, one gets to keep the manuscript, or typed
finished version, and sell a book with it in, post it online etc.
I like Adrian Mitchell's work a lot, and he's a great performer, but if you
take his poem that you quote too far you end up writing rhyming doggerel,
which is what most people want to hear. And in fact, you can see that most
big poetry publishers facilitate this, with shaggy dog narratives if not
rhyming doggerel (though sometimes it's both). Lowest common denominator is
not the answer to anything except making a lot of money in the pop charts.
But as I've said above, even the music industry are starting to realise that
music per se is not commodifiable any more, thanks to online file-sharing.
One can get depressed about that (especially if you're a musician) or take it
as a positive. I'm inclined toward the latter.
Geoff Sutton: Which two or three golden rules would you pass on to anyone
beginning a project like Stride today? Whose career are you proud too have
helped most?
That's two questions! I think you'll have to read my answer to Morgan's
question above. I'd advise people to network, network, network, and not go in
to debt. If you can only afford xerox and staples then do it that way. And
don't think you're going to change the world or dominate the bestseller list,
not with poetry anyway. I'd also say that it's amazing how kind and open most
writers are, so don't be scared to approach even the most famous ones for
advice or writing.
I'm not sure I've helped anyone's career - can you have a career in poetry? I
have always been glad to have brought Brian Pearce's work to the attention of
some readers; I'm immensely proud to have been the UK publisher of Charles
Wright, Sheila Murphy, Dean Young and Campbell McGrath; and to have published
definitive books on Anthony Braxton and Robert Lax (thanks to Graham Lock and
David Miller respectively). The Peter Redgrove Library was an important set
of reissues (which Shearsman are keeping in print at the moment), and I'm
glad Stride had an ongoing publishing relationshiop with Peter, as well as Robert
Sheppard and David Grubb. But we also did a lot of great first and second
collections for people, and those fantastic anthologies for children that
Gary Boswell put together, and at the time I thought Stride Cassettes were
great too!
Gary Boswell: After 26 years of Stride Books, what
observations have you made on the issue of a writer's well-being in
relationship to his/her publisher. I speak as a poet who was very conscious
of the benefits I gained from being published by someone other than myself
but who noticed that the kudos afforded by the literary world and the public
in general to a writer published by a house such as Stride was not always
afforded to the house itself. So also what observations on the well-being of
publishers in individual relationship with their writers?
Blimey, I'm not sure I even understand the question... I've always tried to be
straight with authors, and saw publishing as a mutual thing (I don't mean
financially) between writer and publisher. There are only four authors, for
instance, I've ever had to write contracts for - two of those because they
were signed to agents. I think it probably is the individual
books or writers who deserve the kudos, rather than the press, although
having said that Stride certainly won some awards, grants and prizes as a
press. But a publisher is only what it publishes, and what it makes that
product look like. And I guess if you are market-driven then how many units
of that product you sell.
I've been lucky that I've made many friends and few enemies in publishing. I
learnt fairly early on that conspiracy theories don't really hold water in
publishing and if you're desperate for, say, reviews in major newspapers it's
not impossible to get them by wining and dining, sometimes even just phoning,
the right people. Stride certainly has its share of mainstream and literary
reviews, its moments of publicity, and books shortlisted for prizes, but none
of these things actually affect sales very much as far as I can see, just
literary kudos. Anybody - author or publisher - with their head screwed on
the right way probably doesn't chase fame & fortune, or literary kudos,
through small press poetry!
Tim Cumming: With Stride Books, did you achieve what you wanted to achieve,
if you set out to achieve anything at all, and did you win, in the end?
I have no idea what I wanted to achieve! I bumbled into publishing through
being a writer and being in touch with some other poets in London. At one
point I wanted to change the world and take over the bestseller lists (both
as an author and as a publisher), but realism does tend to set in fairly
rapidly when one has a garage or warehouse full of unsold books. I've come
out with lots of friends and contacts, some great memories, and believe it or
not, without a negative bank balance! So in many ways I won, yes.
Mark Robinson: I would like to know which
manuscript/book/author you most regret turning down?
I think in the last few years I've seen what I thought of as 'my' authors
getting their books published by other presses, particularly Salt and
Shearsman, and have wished I could still publish them. But I haven't been
accepting manuscripts, so I've only myself to blame!
Otherwise, there have been a few anthologies that never happened that I wish
had. I think you were in on some lighthearted discussions at one point
regarding a Soft Southern Gits & Hard Northern Bastards book, for instance. We could have sold lots of those.
Drew Milne talked to me at one point about a linguistically innovative
anthology, John Kinsella has also thrown various ideas at me throughout the
years. And I remember someone sending me a dreadful book from India, printed
on shiny pink paper, full of poems for/about Princess Diana. I joked about
publishing that, and keeping a straight face; part of me wishes I had.
I think Alexis Lykiard made the best suggestion I never acted upon. 'When you
get a really bad submission', he said, 'why don't you write and say you can't
use it at the moment, but that you'd like their permission, in writing, to use
it later in time? Then you can produce The Stride Book of Crap Poetry. You'll sell thousands!' I think he was probably right.
I don't think I've ever turned down anything I've really wanted to do or
regretted afterwards. Nobody has ever popped up as a Whitbread or Booker
Prize winner with something I was offered, and I don't lie awake thinking
about anyone's Collected or Complete Poems.
Bob Garlitz: How do you think your career as a publisher influenced your
career as a poet (& painter?) & writer? How would the nature and
style of your own writing have developed differently, perhaps, had you not
also been publishing - which means reading lots or work in manuscript form,
and choosing and selecting?
I can see that I might have kept on writing the kind of narrative
confessional poetry I started out writing. I might have done an MA much
earlier than I did though, which would have jolted me in the same way toward
more experimental writing. I'd have had more time to read though!
I think editors learn quite quickly to sieve and sort submissions, so I
probably never spent as much time reading work as people sometimes thought. I
learned to be proactive and for probably the last 5 or 6 years stopped
inviting open submissions. I mean the junk in orbit out there is astonishing,
much better to initiate projects, books and anthologies, or invite others to
edit titles for the press.
I'm at a bit of a loss how to answer your question, actually. I can't imagine
not being part of the writing, reading and publishing circles that I am. As
you know from the way we met, I'm quite open to conversation and debate from
new contacts. In fact a moment before typing this I was answering an email
from a reviewer who I'd replied to, who now claims that Victoria Beckham
actually supplied the theories he used to write the review of my books. I'm
looking forward to further missives, and perhaps lunch at The Ivy.
Alan Halsey: Are there poets you wish you'd
published but didn't have the opportunity?
Yes, but probably only in hindsight; that is, somebody else probably
published them. I'd have liked to have published something by Gerald Burns,
but his death halted that project. I've never managed to get Allen Fisher to
send me anything for publication, even in the magazine, nor John Wilkinson. I
guess with a lot of Stride authors (if I can call them that), including
yourself, I wish I'd been able to publish work earlier on. But maybe earlier
on Alan Halsey or Robert Sheppard, for example, might not have sat
comfortably next to what we did publish?
I might have contacted the American authors I did publish earlier on, if I'd
known how easy it would be, and perhaps made a wider sweep of authors who
became far too famous to invite really: Jorie Graham, Rachel Blau DuPlessis
and Mark Strand spring to mind. At one point, when we were working with Ethan
Paquin at Slope there was a whole new
bunch of new writing coming through that ultimately we didn't do anything
with. But hindsight is a dreadful thing.
Jane Routh: Why did you simply call an end to Stride, rather than selling the
imprint (or donating it) to another publisher? Is it because we can look
forward to another Stride after you've had a break from publishing for a few
years?
I'd been dithering about stopping Stride for a while, but have always been
someone who sticks at things, so don't like giving up what I am doing. The
time just seemed right: I'm really not fawning when I say I think Salt and
Shearsman do it better, and that times have changed. I did talk to a couple
of people about selling Stride, but really there isn't, or wasn't, much to
sell, and in the end it didn't happen. I've never taken rights away from
authors, it's their work not mine, and backlist doesn't sell - most sales
occur within a short period of a book being published. Nearly all of the
remaining stock (of which there's wasn't that much) has gone to authors, and
The Peter Redgrove Library is remaining in print through Shearsman.
Another Stride? I shouldn't think so, but I have every intention of getting
my own work out into the world by hook or by crook, pamphlet, email, website
and book. Maybe I shall include some other's writing in that process, maybe
not. Meanwhile I am doing some editing projects, including an anthology of
students' work for the university and a book of manifestoes for Salt, and
Stride magazine lives on.
©
Stride 2008 (all rights revert to individual contributors)
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