Tree/House is Great, But Not Publishable -- Spooky!

Though I'm reluctant to admit it, Tree/House is self-published. I have faith in its quality, and so I always have it under consideration at some reputable traditional publisher.

My relationship with Madras Press has come to an end for now. I just adore them, so I hold out hope that I will write something appropriate for them at some later date, but, when given the opportunity, they decided to pass on Tree/House.

Novellas (fiction works between approx. 15,000 and 35,000 words long) are really hard to find a home for in the publishing world. I can see no rational excuse for this. The shorter length means less publishing cost. I would think it would be ideal for a society with an ever-shorter attention span. A few independent publishers seem to agree with me, because I've been able to scrounge up a short list of places to query. Let this be my notice to the big houses: Novellas are cheap to print and easy to edit! They are undoubtedly the next big thing!

The only reason I'm bothering you, reader, with this information is that the farewell I got from Madras made me feel so strange. Maybe this is the norm in small publishing, but when I asked for permission to send it to someone else who had asked for it out of the blue, the editor seemed thrilled. He said they liked it (hooray!) but had been having a devil of a time finding a place for it in a series and figuring out how to market it (boo hoo!) I don't know if he was overstating the case, but that sounds like I was awfully close to being published with a house I admire hugely. (Disappointment.) It sounds as if its only downfall was its very uniqueness. (Dismay! Bewilderment!)

I won't mention that one of the first things they ever published was a little book by Aimee Bender, which  utterly lacked category, genre, species, etc. I won't mention it because I know I'm not the incomparable Aimee Bender, with now two acclaimed novels and two short story collections to her credit, and before that, a degree in creative writing.

I will mention that this feeling is eerily familiar. I wrote in a previous post that I keep finding great venues for my writing, but then the venues don't accept it into the fold of their genre. Maybe every writer who gets rejected feels a little bit like that, but I'm starting to feel uncomfortably unique. I always thought unique was good, because who wants to read the same old thing, rehashed with slightly different names and locales? Apparently, a lot of people.

I sympathize with the publishers, because there are so many books out there that I might start coming out with fantasy stories in which a writer gets read by someone other than her mother. There's a definite glut going on, and publishers seem to have chosen to combat it through marketing. In marketing, or so I've heard, if the message isn't clear, it's not worth the media it's printed on, because no one will pay attention. Sending a clear message in the marketing of a book involves assigning any number of categories to it, among them genre. Readers have recently become very accustomed to choosing between books that magically fall into preset categories. Some people read only one certain genre.

The thing is, the categories aren't really "preset": they have to be assigned by publishers and booksellers.  I'm sure they have endless headaches trying to figure out how to categorize all these millions of books. I can't blame them for shying away from my little Tree/House, which has no identifiable popular genre beyond "literary fiction," and just possibly "women's."

Here's a list of genres and subgenres Tree/House doesn't fall into (suggest some!):
romance (it's sort of anti-romance!)
instructional (although there are a few suggestions on many topics)
western (although it has stables and knife-throwing)
fantasy (although there are some less-than-believable elements)
horror (although it has a really creepy guy and he's brutally murdered)
paranormal (although there's a ghost)
adventure (although it has travel and a couple of characters who throw caution to the wind!)
campus (although the main character goes to college for a while)
animals (although one character is a cat)
environmental (although the trees are soooooo important)

So the gist of it is, if you want to expand your horizons and read something outside what you normally read, something that, while not very categorizable, will inspire you to strike out and make your own way in life, please consider Tree/House.

At the Vicarage

In his recent book, At Home,  incredibly entertaining author Bill Bryson explains in one of many instructive asides that during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the only solid requirement for a post as a country clergyman in England was a bachelor's degree. There were virtually no check-ups from the authorities, who also provided books of pre-approved sermons, and thus, men who had studied literature, classics, science -- anything but religion, in fact -- could and regularly did obtain sinecures all over the country. They then used their spare time (there was a lot of it) to write lasting works of literature, make important scientific discoveries, and invent some of the implements of the industrial revolution.

What a great system! I, as a former academic, can imagine myself quite happy tending to my flock, meanwhile creating works of great imagination! Like the historical vicars about whom Bryson writes, I was unwilling or unable to get a job teaching at a university, but that doesn't mean I have nothing to contribute to society. Unlike them, however, I don't have that nifty net to fall back on, and I'm still stymied as to what I can actually do in the world in such a way that I can get paid. I guess the non-university grads got tired of tithing so their pastor could just sit in contemplation. I can't blame them. Back then, I would have been one of them. I wouldn't have had a real chance to go to university. Even to get into a classroom I would have had to exhibit extraordinary ingenuity.

But, because I was born long after the struggles for equality among classes and genders had made great strides, all I had to do to get into a very good college was do well in school. Somehow, I never got the message that more was expected: I was happy with the small but enthusiastic shows of encouragement and praise I got, and that was enough. It was enough through a BA, an MFA, two more MAs and a PhD. So, although I had original thoughts and new ways to do things on a small scale, I never had to think outside the box entirely. Since I followed my bliss instead of my bank account, now I'm earning nothing, married to a wonderful, underemployed man, during an economic depression, scratching my head, my tummy rumbling.

I've always disdained money as a driving force, but, wow, do I have some ideas about what to do with it if I had some.

If only there were some system to sustain people like me who show some potential but haven't realized it...

My best hope is that, when we move, a library or book store will allow me to earn some kind of wage for taking care of books. For reasons I'm sure to elaborate on later, I dare not hope my own books could make me a living. In the meantime, I'll be thinking of a way to go back in time as a British gentleman.

Poetry Corner: Jarchas

In a beautiful corner of the world -- Moorish Andalucía -- in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, poetry was central to civilized existence. Fidelity to established forms and linguistic abstraction were prized above all else. 

But these subtle writers in Arabic also enjoyed observing life around them, and that meant sometimes overhearing the songs of the mozarabes, Christians who spoke a now-extinct mixture of Arabic and the local romance language. The poets liked to punctuate their long, stately poems with short, and sometimes mysterious, snippets in the voice of a mozarabe, often a beautiful young woman. These snippets, called jarchas, are the only poetry we have from this linguistic group. Scholars have transliterated the jarchas from the Arabic script in which they're found in order to approximate these lost rhythms and sounds.

Jarcha from moaxaja number 8 of Jehuda ha-Levi (1070-1141):

Non me mordas ya habibi, la

No quero daniyoso

Al-gilala rajisa: basta

A toto me rifyuso

Do not bite me, my friend, no. I don’t want someone who hurts me. The bodice is fragile, stop. I refuse everything.

Linguistically, this jarcha is a special treasure that plays out its social milieu. While the grammar and most of the words are in romance, and recognizably related to modern Spanish, the terms for refined, luxury concepts (lover, bodice, fragile) have been derived from the Arabic. 


While it's tempting to see it as a quasi-feminist plea to be treated with respect, we have to take into account the venue in which this jarcha would have been heard: in a predominately male court. The snippet itself is likely written by the poet of the main text, also male. So, the most likely interpretation is a comic relief / lurid one, although we will never know for sure. 

The text, translation, and a lovely version with instruments of the time are presented in the album El Crisol del Tiempo. 

Also note the changes to the site: you now have access to a list of my publications, with links to excerpts and full texts, on a separate page, linked on the left of the screen. The enjoyably watchable videos are listed on their own page. Enjoy the reorganization! More great content coming soon! 

Writer-On-Writer Repartee

The amazing Mike Angley has honored me by interviewing me for his blog. Get insider information on Tree/House and Dusk Before Dawn and take in my headshot.  Check it out:

http://childfinder.us/?p=2433 or

http://childfinder.us/2010/10/treehouse-author-jessica-knauss-visits-with-mike-angley/

As soon as I get through my geographical ambiguity (it's hard to write when your desk is moving) I will be thrilled to update you, dear readers, on the future project I discuss in the interview: a novel based on a medieval Spanish epic. Expect exciting teasers, process, and excerpts!

Books For Treats

There's no getting around it: it's the Halloween season. What used to be a time to honor the ancestors has become a celebration of the willies and a chance to gorge on candy (as if Americans needed another opportunity like that!).

With all of that at the front of my mind, I was thrilled to find out about the organization Books For Treats. Founded and run by Rebecca Morgan in San José, California, it replaces candy with books! Passing out literature instead of sweets! Substituting cavities and obesity for literacy!

Now, I have the world's biggest sweet tooth -- always have. I remember being cynical when a teacher talked about giving a "treat" to the class and it turned out be a visit from the music teacher or something else non-candy. But, reimagining my childhood trick-or-treat ventures, I know how amazing it would have been to receive an age-appropriate picture or story book instead of that fistful of Dum-Dums. The website gives examples of child feedback, and it's very positive. Let's face it: finding books and making sure they're suitable for the particular child who comes to your door takes a lot more attention and care than grabbing a bag of candy at the grocery store, and children will perceive that qualitative difference.

The site also links to similar organizations in Texas and Iowa and great ideas for where you can get inexpensive kids' books, as well as guidelines for deciding what to give to whom. Check it out!

I highly doubt we will get any trick-or-treaters where we live, so when I heard about Books For Treats, I donated some 28 children's books via priority mail, and I hope they get there in time to be used this year. Most of the books were children's picture books in Spanish, which I have used with some success in the language classroom. Two volumes were The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and The Magician's Nephew, fabulous books I bought to read to my husband, who didn't do much reading as a child. (The couple that reads to each other, stays together!) Even if they can't be used this year, the books will still be fresh for the 2011 round. Really good children's books never get old.

booksfortreats.org

Coming soon: Interviews with authors Angela Townsend and Barbara Briggs Ward! Musings on web site issues! Stay tuned!

It's Finally Here! The New Edition of Tree/House!

It's going to take a while for the "search inside" feature to catch up, but here it is, the new edition! Just click on the ad to check it out, or see the CreateSpace page here. (As usual, I get more royalties from the CreateSpace page. Consider it your holiday gift to me.)

The new edition has black-and-white photos chosen for their relationship to the story. Two come from Emma's photo album: the Mexican pavilion at Epcot Center and the Shakespeare library at the estate. Others were taken at different locations in Pennsylvania to represent the snow storm and the untamed parts of the estate. They should all impart a sense of calm to the reader. I hope they will give the reader a sense of the beauty of nature, and of the beauty within.

The text also makes better use of the page, and as you can see, the cover has been redesigned and is now much more attractive. I hope you will be proud to have it on your shelf.

The two bonus stories are both highly symbolic means of dealing with the same themes in Tree/House: femininity, awakening, honoring creativity and the less manicured parts of life.

"The Consequences of Neglect and How to Make Amends" took some inspiration in Latin American short stories of fallen angels, but the disgraced icon has a completely different meaning connected directly to Clarissa Pinkola Estés's Women Who Run With the Wolves.

"Anonymous" is a re-imagining (or first imagining) of the real authors of folk tales, unsigned tomes, and any culture's basic mythos. It touches on the subconscious origin of the great stories as well as themes of psychological imprisonment and freedom.

The new stories and the photos are provided at the same cost as the first edition. Enjoy! 

Note: both sites still list the publication date as 2008, but I assure you that the old edition is no longer available. You will receive the new volume, dated 2011! 

Look at Me, Paris and London!

I can now say that something I wrote, with my name on it, is available at the ultra-fabulous (from the literature point-of-view) Shakespeare and Company bookstore in Paris (France, people!). This is thanks to Do Not Look at the Sun, Issue 4 "Poems for Park Benches," Autumn 2010 (get previews here). For once, I'm at the beginning of the issue (at least in the online preview) instead of the end.

Do Not Look at the Sun is a highly creative endeavor. Much more visual than I would even have come up with myself, the editors generously distribute the 'zine for free in public spaces in Paris, and now London, and also in some really fine bookstores in both cities. It can also be purchased online for a nominal fee. Three euros should not break anyone's bank!

I admire their creativity, so rampant that they can hardly keep it to themselves. They describe the pieces they publish as "misfit" lit, and I didn't have anything untraditional enough for the longest time. Then, earlier this year, as part of the moving-in process in Pennsylvania, I was archiving my old journals and considering how different my memories of the events were from the way I described them. I cam up with an image of grasping words, and titled it "Experience." I didn't think it was publishable as it was, and then I  remembered all the wonderful "misfits" that end up in Do Not Look at the Sun.

So, hey, I have published work available at Shakespeare and Company in Paris!