Showing posts with label Globe and Mail. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Globe and Mail. Show all posts

Monday, March 26, 2018

above/ground press gets some love in the globe and mail!

In case you didn't catch, Toronto writer, artist and filmmaker R.M. Vaughan was good enough to pitch and write a short piece for The Globe and Mail on above/ground press' twenty-fifth anniversary! Thanks so much! You can see the original article (that appeared online on Tuesday, and in print in Saturday's paper) online here.


And, fyi, while above/ground press might be nearing 900 publications, that number might not be achieved until Christmas, or even the new year (we're in the 860 range right now; check the sidebar for a list of names and links to new titles from Steve McCaffery, Sara Renee Marshall, Alice Notley, Gary Barwin and tons of others, including a long list of forthcoming). But that's okay. (and you know I'm still willing to backdate 2018 subscriptions to January first, right?)

Vaughan is also the author of two publications through above/ground press, including half of issue #8 (with Judith Fitzgerald) of the long poem magazine STANZAS, with his poem “HOW TO SPEND MOST OF YOUR TIME ALONE AND STILL WRITE CONVINCINGLY ABOUT SEX” (May 28, 1996) and the small chapbook 14 Reasons Not To Eat Potato Chips On Church Street (April, 1999).
Ottawa’s Above/Ground Press marks 25th anniversary and 900th publication

R.M. VAUGHAN
SPECIAL TO THE GLOBE AND MAIL


A lot can happen in 25 years. Ours are busy times. And then, there’s publisher rob mclennan.

The Ottawa writer, himself the author of 30 plus books of poetry and fiction, runs Above/Ground Press, a micropress specializing in chapbooks, broadsheets, quarterlies and zines. This year marks Above/Ground’s 25th anniversary – and it’s close to prepping its 900th publication.

900th. The 1000th is due in the fall. We may need a new definition of the word busy.

When asked about recent Above/Ground publications, mclennan responds by sending a box crammed with 20 new titles, including works by Natalee Caple, Gary Barwin, Joe Blades and Stephanie Bolster, as well as several issues of Touch the Donkey, a poetry magazine similarly stuffed with new works.

How does he do it? Perhaps the larger question is why does he do it?

mclennan seems surprised by the numbers himself.

“Odd to think that my ‘forthcoming’ list is larger than most chapbook presses’ entire publishing catalogues. I’ve been doing it for so long that it is simply a part of my practice. And it’s bloody good fun. I told myself years ago, that if I stop having fun doing something, I should no longer do it, and now both Above/Ground press and my reading series, The Factory Reading Series, are 25 years old. The Ottawa Small Press Book Fair turns 25 in fall, 2019.”

“I get to spend my days writing and thinking and reading (in between the requirements of a household and two small children); how could that not be seen as the most glorious fun possible?”

Above/Ground is funded by a devoted subscription base, people who “want everything the press makes in a calendar year,” mclennan tells me, plus online sales and book-fair sales. Above/Ground also swaps works with micropresses around the world.

“I didn’t get into small publishing because I like math,” mclennan says.

But the actual labour? It must be exhausting.

mclennan shrugs off the question. “I fold and staple in front of the television during evenings, and have for the whole run of the press. Folding and stapling I can do as part of my evening not-writing downtime. I’m currently on my third long-arm stapler over the 25 years of the press! I’ve most likely worn off my fingerprints by now.”

Being a publisher and a writer is tricky in Canada. Being a self-publisher and writer even more so (mclennan contributes to various Above/Ground titles occasionally and is of course the main editor). Canadian publishing, and arts in general, prefers clear divisions between creators and managers, makers and gate-minders. Again, mclennan is not fussed by such distinctions.

“I grew up on a farm, so I was raised with the idea that one exists in a community in which we all have different things we can do for the group. This is what I can do, so I try to do it for as many writers that appeal to me as possible.”

But mclennan is far from naive about the business – and anxieties – of publishing while writing.

“I’ve realized that those who are seriously interested in being ‘career’ poets might initially be interested in what I’m doing, but very quickly move on. I’ve had multiple young poets over the years realize that there isn’t really anything I can do for their career, so I tend to get ignored, which I’m quite okay with.”

“Those that do love the [micropress chapbook] format, and see the format as simply a means to an end (i.e. getting the work distributed) are the ones that tend to stick around. They’re my people.”

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

today's horoscope, the globe & mail,

PISCES (Feb. 20 - Mar. 20): Hopefully you have dealt with a relationship issue that was holding you back, because in a matter of days, your new rapport will be put to the test. Emotionally and financially you'll do great things.

Friday, April 30, 2010

rob curates the Globe & Mail book blog, final entry + full list;

Globe & Mail: rob mclennan on Robert Kroetsch;

All April, thanks to Judith Fitzgerald and Peter Scowen, I’ve been curating twenty spaces on the Globe & Mail book blog, asked for poets to write on other poets. The suggestion on the Globe site is deceptive: I didn’t pick any of the subjects (but for mine, obviously), but asked twenty writers of poetry to write on whomever they chose. Over the weeks, some were forced to drop out for various reasons, unable to complete the task, and even further were asked (originally I wasn’t planning on writing any at all, but somehow managed to write two, which wasn’t my intention). It was pretty entertaining, the idea of including all sorts of writers who might otherwise not be allowed a Globe & Mail anything (where have all the poetry reviews gone? Why doesn’t the Focus section write on poets more often? Etc) Thanks to all the writers who contributed magnificent pieces (there were days when twenty weren't nearly enough)! Here’s the entire list of pieces back;

rob mclennan on Robert Kroetsch;
Lainna Lane El Jabi on Christine Stewart;
Natalie Zina Walschots on Jenny Sampirisi;
Wanda O’Connor on Artie Gold;
Clint Burnham on Jeff Derksen;
Joe Blades on Phoebe Tsang;
Angela Carr on Kate Eichhorn;
Stan Rogal on Gregory Betts;
Sharon Harris on Jennifer LoveGrove;
derek beaulieu on Helen Hajnoczky;
Jesse Patrick Ferguson on Peter Norman;
Nicole Markotic on Nikki Reimer;
Rob Budde on Ken Belford;
Sachiko Murakami on a.rawlings;
Phil Hall on Laurie Duggan;
Monica Kidd on Stan Dragland;
Marcus McCann on Nicholas Lea;
Stephen Collis on Kim Minkus;
Kim Minkus on Stephen Collis;
rob mclennan on Pearl Pirie;
Judith Fitzgerald on rob mclennan (opener);

Saturday, April 10, 2010

rob curates the Globe & Mail book blog, April 2010;

Thanks to Judith Fitzgerald & Peter Scowan, I've been curating some twenty pieces, poets on poets, for the Globe & Mail book blog, with the first few up this week: myself on Pearl Pirie, Kim Minkus on Stephen Collis, Stephen Collis on Kim Minkus, Marcus McCann on Nicholas Lea, and Monica Kidd on Stan Dragland, and the introductory piece, Fitzgerald on me!

With more than a dozen left to go, watch for further pieces, including Lainna El Jabi on Christine Stewart, Rob Budde on Ken Belford, Nicole Markotic on Nikki Reimer, Stan Rogal on Gregory Betts, Joe Blades on Phoebe Tsang, Sachiko Murakami on a. rawlings, Natalie Zina Walschots on Jenny Sampirisi and Wanda O'Connor on Artie Gold.

Saturday, December 15, 2007

rob's novel reviewed in the globe & mail!

After so many years of not having my books not reviewed or even mentioned, it never even occurred to me that my novel could get a review at all; not a bad little review (although there are considerations of the little book overlooked). Still, why do some folk insist on uppercasing my name?

I think in a way Bartley misses part of the point, including the other (secret) narrative happening within and throughout the novel (not even referenced; why do readers keep thinking the initials are accidental?) (and I don't remember putting a brother in the book; but who is ever completely in charge of anything? Maybe one slipped in when I wasn't looking...), but am very very pleased he liked it. I should just appreciate that, yes?

Expand (and contract) your mind
JIM BARTLEY

December 15, 2007

WHITE
By Rob McLennan

Mercury Press, 102 pages, $16.95

P and H are newlyweds fresh from a Niagara Falls honeymoon. As they settle into their spanking-new, characterless suburban house, the bloom is already wilting.

H goes to work and P wanders the bare rooms, missing her single life. She brings in a stray dog; he comes home and summarily boots it out. One night, she announces that he's the second man she has ever loved. "He doesn't ask about the first. Which is good, because P can't remember." Who, we might ask, does not remember their first love? And what young husband fails to see such a disclosure as a challenge? Are P and H some sort of litmus test for reader comprehension?

Poet Rob McLennan sows uncertainty in his first novel. What's unsaid spurs us on. We flash back to their first date. H was drawn by P's smell: "fields of wildflowers, and shortbread." They walked on a beach, shared a pomegranate. Now their love is pale and strained, and most of the strain seems to be P's.

McLennan's first erotic image gives us H on top of P's "white body." She thinks of touching her tongue to his eyes. "To discover how they taste." Then P's memory is revealed to be seriously wonky. She recalls that her mother is dead, except when she remembers that she's alive.

P elaborately decorates the house for Halloween. When the goblins come knocking, she can't bring herself to answer the door. Winter comes, deepening her gloom. H is mostly invisible, his two obsessions work and the model trains in the basement. On a spring day while he's at work, P packs up and decamps to her mother's farm.

Her childhood home serves more to dislocate her than offer comfort. The house seems too small, the landscape too huge, the smells too primitive. "The ladies. Awash in the damp and slightly rotting smell she associated with her mother." At her bedroom window, she crouches "to mimic her former view," only confirming that the past is irretrievable.

All through this, P and her author skirt around the shadowy memory of her father. While P retains some warmth, her mother recalls him with unembellished enmity.

The one other person whose memory stirs tenderness in P is also the first character given a name: Stephen, her teenage first love. There are hints of rapture and escape, then a loss. Later come hints of a lost brother:" the boy in the bubble and the sound of her father's voice."

An enigma - P herself - is at the core of this book. McLennan never solves it, though he does at last allow P's name to be spoken. Together, the enigma and the naming have kept P and her barely lived life hovering at the fringes of my mind for a few days now. P is the fear, always suppressed, that we exist only by the thinnest tissues of connection -that the self is really nothing but its context. If you're not averse to that sort of fictional mind-tweak, this compact novel can only expand you.