Published in
2001
20 pages, handbound
6x6"
souvankham@hotmail.com
I heard Souvankham Thammavongsa speak at an Alternative Publishing
Workshop at the University of Toronto that I was also speaking at,
and her speech blew me away. Despite our vastly different backgrounds,
I found myself relating to and inspired by her candid and personal
account of how she came to self-publish. Instead of an interview,
I asked her for the notes of that speech.
One of the things people assume about publishing something yourself
is that
you didn't have a choice, that you couldn't get published by someone
else.
But this wasn't the case for me. I was unhappy with what was out
there. I
didn't want to lose the intimacy and the closeness that comes from
making my
own books. There were no deadlines to meet a launch date, no pressures
from
editors. But more importantly, it was about getting my name right.
I've
been told by editors that my name was too long, did I have an "English"
version of it? Having been born in a refugee camp I was not given
a birth
certificate. Because of this, my name in print was proof that I
existed and
to be asked to change it or delete some of its letters to fit the
format of
the page was not something I was going to allow to happen.
You don't have to be rich to be publishing your own work--or at
least, don't
expect it to happen. When I was younger my parents didn't know how
to read
or write English. We couldn't afford ballet lessons or music lessons
but
what I had were words. If I was going to know anything about rhythm
and
sound it was going to be done with words. And I was going to go
at it
alone. I grew up without any books in our home. There were newspapers
but
they were laid out on the floor to soak up our winter boots or wrap
fish or
chicken bones left over from the night's dinner.
I wrote my first book when I was seven years old. It had three
pages and
was a love note for a boy who sat next to me. He showed it to the
teacher
and I got into trouble (apparently you're not supposed to be doing
that with
your crayons). I knew then that if I was ever scared of saying what
I felt
and about being honest then maybe this wasn't for me. And I knew
then that
it was going to be something I was going to do alone. It's great
to have a
support system like friend and family but in the end you have to
realize
that you are the one who has to go up there and bear it alone. At
the end
of the night, when the lights go off, and your support goes home--you
have
to stand there and be there for yourself. You'll find it's easier
to defend
other people, but when it comes to yourself it's a lot harder.
Doing it yourself is not easy. First of all, you have to be your
own fan.
If you don't like what you write then you can't expect it to matter
to
someone out there. You've got to be your own advertisement department,
your
own distribution department, your own mailing department, your own
public
relations department, your own art department, your own accountant...you've
got to be your own research department--see what people like and
why they
like it and you've got to keep it fresh because people get bored
easily.
But don't do it just to impress people. Do it for yourself first,
you are
your harshes critic so if you can get work past yourself it will
eventually
find its audience. Also, go and check out how the experts like Governor
General's award winners do it. It's one thing to be able to write
a good
piece, another to be able to read it well. If you're just going
to go up
there and read it--just remember that anyone could do that.
You'll find that having a published book doesn't measure how great
a writer
you are. There's a lot of crap out there that's being published.
I think
some of the best writers aren't even published because they are
too busy
saving the world, driving taxis, or selling hot dogs on the street.
It's
one thing to have the talent to write and another to have the chance
to
share it. And of course, it's one thing to talk about talent and
another to
back it up.
[Read poems]
the ground
has seen fruit and flower
turn from it to honour light
and pushes you out of
your ungleaned body
to do the same
this far from ground
this closer to heaven
you reach back to compass
the brown of earth--the first
you knew of this world
proving you hold
your own fierce light
you set fire
to break the dark of the mouth
And I encourage everyone here tonight to join me in setting that
fire.
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(Psst! We're continuing the discussion on women publishing books
over here.)
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