Dear Poet,
Congratulations! It is with great enthusiasm that we at Vintage Vanity Press formally accept your debut poetry collection. Your talent—particularly the authentic elusiveness of your voice and form—is undeniable and provides a strong foundation for interpretation and refinement. We have a small but attentive review board at Vintage Vanity Press. We are the sort of publisher who believes poetry is a reverse personification where you unmask your best self in language. Our motto is “Make Your Self A Poem.” While many poets are able to write several kinds of poems in several kinds of forms about several kinds of topics, few shift as you do in materials (sheets of papyrus, palm leaves, bamboo, parchment, vellum, leather!) and mediums (inks made of rain, milk, blood, ash!). We frequently paused discussion of your work—excusing ourselves for the restroom stalls, dipping into utility closets, runny noses to the most private corners of our office. One reviewer didn’t make it past the line break in “children blowing up / balloons amid war.” We had read the poems to ourselves privately in advance of the meeting, of course, but never realized hearing them out loud could unlock such near-mystical wonders. As part of the publishing process, we have a few suggestions to enhance the collection’s already compelling qualities. We wondered how we might publicize, if not monetize, excerpts of your brilliance ahead of publication, as is detailed in the accompanying contract. We also debated the costs and benefits of the collection sharing its title with the long middle poem. The multi-dimensional poem functions well enough structurally, but its implications as the conceptual centerpiece could use some clarification. Life is described as if existence resists the clarity of fact. Our most junior member debated the poem with our most senior member throughout our lunch and afternoon tea break. You will note our abundant, partially debatable, realignment of line breaks here and there. (Also note no one touched the line about a line of children in tank tops before a line of tanks.) Some of my colleagues argued your penultimate poem’s robust response to non-theoretical suffering came to a lyrical but cynical conclusion. They think it tells a story constructed by others, thus should be cut. The primary aim of all editorial activities is “To lick a dirty thing until it’s clean” or, according to market and audience fluctuations, “To lick a clean thing until it’s dirty.” We’re on your side. We voted unanimously for the silences that fit between your lines. At the conclusion of our meeting, we decided to do as your final poem instructed. We each chose a word encapsulating a moment or mood of the day to a degree the word would trigger a sensory response at unforeseeable moments for the rest of the day. “Vestibule,” “Nephew,” “Clock.” A few members selected the word most uttered in the news. My word was “Blood.” It’s not exactly accurate to say outcomes were inconclusive, outcomes feel in process. As you navigate the publishing process, it’s important to note that Vintage Vanity Press will require an upfront investment to cover production costs, which include professional editing, design, formatting, printing, and distribution, with a detailed breakdown provided in the contract alongside royalty terms for future book sales. The thing about blood is you only really see it when it’s free. This partnership represents an opportunity to refine your work with our experienced support while ensuring your vision is realized in its final form. Please don’t hesitate to reach out with any questions or concerns as you review the publishing agreement and prepare for the road ahead. When we left the office, nothing burned outside; the inflamed parts of our bodies had simply swallowed smoke and whiskey. But I knew we were kin because the feeling was so specific—a form of unchosen intimacy. Before all this war, “war” was broken into everyday meaning—“broken” in the sense of being hurled against a screen with electricity or placed in a sentence given to hyperbole, but now the word refused to go quiet. Once again, congratulations and thank you. We received no other handwritten manuscript this year. Everything else was said by machinery.
Yours truly, The Vintage Vanity Press Review Board President and Founder.
Used with the permission of the author.
