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Thursday, November 27, 2008

First Book Interviews: Jon Pineda & Morgan Lucas Schuldt

After finishing the MFA, I felt a great freedom in generating new work beyond what was included in the thesis. I went back into many of the “finished” poems and found different rhythms at work, broke the lines in different ways. There was a certain amount of irreverence with which I approached the “thesis.” I wanted to tear it apart.


...the phenomenon of rating one’s own book(s) on websites like Goodreads. Or, worse, reviewing one’s own book on Amazon. It’s the kind of shameless self-promotion that would be laughable if it weren’t so tacky. Don’t be that person


Reb said...

"Don't be that person."

Hah! I'm that person. Unapologetically that person.

That's an interesting quote coming from a contributor of the 2nd Bedside Guide who rated the very book he was included in (4 out of 5 stars!). Not that I'm complaining or criticizing -- I appreciate every contributor who helps promote the venue that supports his work. I wish more did.

Anonymous said...


I feel competitive for the title of being That Person. I paid friends to write reviews of my book for Amazon.com and then went ballistic when they didn't understand my cue and create more than one review. Then I got even more upset when they finally did write multiple reviews, and then told me they did, not allowing me to believe they were written by fans desperate to receive my attention.

Steve Fellner

javier said...

Walt Whitman was that person. Check out his anonymous self-reviews over at the Whitman Archive. The best one starts,

"At last an American Bard!"

We can all learn from Walter Whitman how to be "that person," a self-promoting marketing genius.

I say down with ALL reviews.

Ron said...

I was going to post a comment but got distracted by the word verification generator (again), which has come up with "slactonc" this time: a remedy for slacking, as in a tonic? A place name, as in Slacto, NC?

All my fans in Slacto, NC write devastating prose lauding my work. Each morning the pages are fed to sixteen goats, who naaaaaah-say the process yet shit the most acutely earth-shattering poems. . . Sweet goats. One of them looks just like Lyn Lifshin.