By Danielle Hanson
There are several paths to bringing a collection of poems into the world. For years, I’ve chased the publication prizes. I like the idea that I won, that my book was somehow objectively the best. But honestly, this is a ridiculous conclusion. As the judge of poetry book competitions in the past (and currently), I know there are many publication-worthy manuscripts circulating. And what would Best Book of Poetry even mean. A piece of writing tries to find its audience, and the publisher is a step along that process. As an editor, I try to choose a book that I would be excited to introduce to readers. There isn’t a best. There’s a closest to my current reading preferences. But as a writer, I still chase the awards.
So I was thrilled in January 2024 to find out my manuscript The Night Is What It Eats had been selected as the winner of the Elixir Press Prize by the wonderful poet Jennifer Franklin. I had been sending the book out for over three years, and it had been short-listed by The Washington Prize, the Richard Snyder Prize, the Marsh Hawk Poetry Prize, the Idaho Prize for Poetry, the White Pine Poetry Prize, the 42 Miles Poetry Prize, and the Vassar Miller Poetry Prize. It’s so encouraging to be a semi-finalist or finalist. But in the end, you’re still waiting on an acceptance for publication.
Elixir Press was one of the first prizes I had been short-listed for as an early writer, in 2012, and one of my friends Sue Allspaw from my MFA program had won their prize in 2011, one of the first books to come from my cohort and therefore extra exciting. And I love the author list at Elixir: John Sibley Williams, Bruce Bond, Jane Satterfield, George Looney, Bruce Bond . . . I teach some of these poets in my classes and love their work. What an honor to be pressmates with them. Elixir Press has been producing books for 20 years—beautiful books.
Many independent publishers of poetry (and I believe most poetry books come from these publishers in the US today, but I don’t have the data to back up this claim) are small operations run by a handful of editors and designers. Most are non-profit and many run using volunteer labor. I’ve volunteered for Sundress Publications, one of the medium-sized independent presses, for 10 years now. And I’m Guest Editor for Codhill Press for a two-year stint. Poetry is produced as passion projects by editors and publishers who believe in the importance and power of poetry. And some presses have a long record of creating beautiful products. Elixir Press has a record for this, in my opinion. And it’s mainly a one-woman business.
The Event happened in early 2024. Dana Curtiss, the editor/publisher of Elixir Press, tireless and dedicated publisher of poetry, got very sick. Thank goodness, she’s still with us and hopefully recovering well. But she hasn’t been able to complete a new project since The Event.
One of my roles at Sundress Publication is to manage our imprint Doubleback Books, an online publisher dedicated to re-publishing books whose original press went out of business. We see this every year—great publishers, great books—close because of the sickness/death/retirement/need to work more for a place that pays/exhaustion/burnout . . . The thing about passion projects and small publishers is that when the publisher can no longer do the work, or the passion wanes, the press closes. This has happened forever and it’s part of the industry. But there’s often a final project that doesn’t happen. Or one that just came out and is stranded with no distribution or copies, which might be a more difficult position to be in. I think I might have been lucky to be on the not-published side of The Event.
My first journal publication acceptance happened when I was just out of grad school. Hiram Poetry Review. I waited for the magazine to come. Months. Finally, after a couple years, I found out that the editor had died in a car crash before that final issue came out. I mourn the loss of a great supporter of poetry, and someone who would take a chance on a young unknown poet. Twice in the past year, I’ve had work accepted at magazines who are publishing their final issue, often due to costs but sometimes just because it’s time to close. I wish peace on those involved. I volunteered for Loose Change Magazine in Atlanta years ago and the magazine shut down while I was on staff. We had to send notifications to all the poets in the queue, as well as the poets whose work we had accepted. I hated writing those letters.
So much of having your work published is about luck, and timing. The talent has to be there but it’s not enough. Your work has to find the right editor, at the right time. And that editor has to continue to have the resources, including life and health, to continue their work.
After my book was delayed over a year by The Event, with no launch date and no books behind it in the queue at Elixir, 18 months after the launch of Elixir’s last title, and almost a year after the implosion of SPD (Elixir’s book distributor, which has not yet been replaced), I decided to move on. It was time for the book to find its readers.
My second book won the Codhill Press Prize, the second to last book edited by the wonderful Pauline Uchmanowicz before her death. The last book she edited was from my (and Sue’s!) MFA friend Robert (Bob) Krut, whose work I adore. Bob had been telling me for years that I should pitch a new project to Codhill. He has three books with them now and loves a literary home, a mutual love so strong that Codhill asked him to be their first Guest Editor for poetry after Pauline’s death left a gap at the press. Robert had passed that Guest Editorship on to me after his term. Since my book was published by Codhill in 2018 a new publisher had taken over the press, the daughter of the original publisher David Appelbaum. Sometimes passion projects can be transferred to another. Susannah Appelbaum is amazing—she has brought new energy and ideas to the press. As a published writer herself, she is able to support the press in different ways. So I took Bob’s advice and approached Susannah with my stranded book. I had the cover art, the blurbs, the description, the poems, the stamp of an editor’s approval. And Susannah said “you always have a home here.”
I hadn’t known I was looking for a home, hadn’t quite understood what Bob liked about publishing from the same press each time (how do you know the book is GOOD if it didn’t win something??) But I think I get it now. This feels good. I have a community that supports each other, that believes and contributes to the common work of the press. And the cover and interior design is exquisite. It’s like the designer crawled into my head and figured out what makes me happy and brought it out. It’s stunning. Maybe that’s what it’s like to be seen and known by an organization.
I still send my unpublished manuscript out to contests. I still crave winning. But perhaps I’m not homeless, only nomadic. Perhaps I’ll circle back to the winter structures when the weather gets rough, rest and visit my community. Perhaps I’ll even settle down and build a permanent hut on this field here, plant a crop or two. Perhaps when my time comes to an end, there will be someone to bury me and mourn the passing.
The Night Is What It Eats can be bought at Codhill.com or your local bookstore. Consider requesting your local library to buy a copy. The sale of books is what keeps Codhill Press able to stay in business and take a chance on new (and old) writers.
Danielle Hanson is author of The Night Is What It Eats (Elixir Press Prize), Fraying Edge of Sky (Codhill Press Poetry Prize), and Ambushing Water (Finalist, Georgia Author of the Year Award). She edited the poetry anthology Objects in This Mirror with Julia Beach, and two books of literary criticism. She is Guest Editor for Codhill Press and Marketing Director for Sundress Publications. She serves as the inaugural Poet Laureate for Costa Mesa, California and Professor of the Practice in Creative Writing at UNC-Chapel Hill.
