Hi there everyone...
My poetry book
A Gathering Of Wings is spreading its wings and nearing completion. I'm still in a quandry of how to go about publishing this one. Do I follow the self-publishing route (that I've done in the past) which ensures a quick publication, or do I begin to seek out potential publishers, something that will take a while but may reap the bigger reward?
The benefit of a real publishing deal does not necessarily ensure I gain more readers, which, ultimately, is my goal. The internet and self-publishing has, certainly for me, allowed my work to get out from my own home (and brain) and reach people - not a lot of people, mind you, but you know who you are! So, do I really want or need a publishing deal? Answers on a postcard (or comment below for ease of use!)
Books are increasingly becoming 'online'; hardware like Kindles are being designed for this goal - but there is still something romantic and comfortable to own a book, have it in your hands - will this ever go? I hope not - I think both options have their pros and cons, of course, but I'm a firm believer in reading away from a screen. I'm sure we spend far too much time in front of them, so why add to the onslaught?
Whatever I decide (and the choice may be taken from me if magazines/publishers decide not to pursue my work), I am very happy with my new book. It has really taken on a life of its own, and forms a solid (if a rather dark) story about a new world; an otherworld leaking through into our own, to lay claim to it. As you can tell, my influence comes from many movies, books and old stories. Mine isn't a new story - but I hope told in a suitably different way!
Expect more news on
A Gathering Of Wings before the end of the year; I should then, at least, have decided (or had decided for me) my choice of publishing.
Until then, I post a poem I wrote tonight, suitably apt, called 'The Choice Of Ages'. Hope you enjoy...
The Choice Of AgesDare I go with you?
Your outstretched hand of wisdom seems to wink.
If I leave, will your destination lure me from the brink
Of wounded hearts, suffering and demented views?
My first instinct is to look back, cacophony,
I hear the endless cries of the banshees,
Wailing in their tormented laughs to disagree
At each other's woes; their own is far worse, you see!
I linger, but view your resolute body.
I hesitate to join your cause,
Well, the unknown is always frightful, I suppose...
Or is leaving behind what I am my final glory?
Yet if I stay, I remain amongst these masses.
The people of all history combined descending,
Bewildering glimmers of light and dark coalescing -
All is not sour in these fields of red ashes.
Is it over, for us, then?
A brush and a clean and the bacteria is gone,
New shining stars birthed, unearthed, to belong?
If so then perhaps we will start again.
For my own journey, well,
It can't end here, my thoughts confirm,
I bleed my life and heart to learn...
...My soul still exists in your leafy dells.
(c) Copyright Craig Gilbert 2010