Page Seventeen

I’ve felt confident since the early days of producing page seventeen that I would know when it was time to move on. This was helped partly, at least, by talking to other editors about it and the uniformity in which they’d nod and say ‘you’ll just know’.

While I have enjoyed almost every moment of producing this fabulous literary magazine, from the first submission call out in November 2004, until today, it is with a little sadness that I let you know that my time is up. It’s been an impressive journey and the part I’ve enjoyed most is to have been able to watch new writers grow into something more, and to share the excitement of a first acceptance. It hasn’t been easy to step back far enough to be able to see the impact page seventeen has had in the writing community, although there have been times when I have been able to do this, and to be honest, I’m kind of blown away that I’ve been able to achieve something so big.

Not that it was done on my own. There have been so many people along the way who have helped in various ways, with Kathryn Duncan of Celapene Press, my fellow co-founder, at the top of the list. I’m not going to make a list here, but they know who they are, and if you want to too, you can check the Foreword page/s of each issue.

My other favourite part of it has something to do with all the wonderful people I’ve met and become friends with along the way, though I’m no fan of the soppy violin stuff, so that’s all I’ll say on that. In fact, that’s about all I’m saying right now, possibly because it’s a little difficult to articulate much more.

Anyway, I do ask for your help on one little detail. As I won’t be staying on as editor, and because I have moved interstate, I need you to not send anything (at all) to the Cockatoo address you’ve come to love. And also to let others know not to use it. Truthfully, I will possibly receive anything sent there in the next couple of weeks but realistically, I may not receive anything from there ever again. This shouldn’t be a big deal though, because submissions are not currently open. If you do need to contact page seventeen for another reason, especially to order a copy if you can’t use Paypal, please email me for information: tiggatha[at]gmail[dot]com. In fact, feel free to email me anyway. (You can still use the page seventeen email addresses.)

As for news on what’s happening, I don’t have enough information at the moment to share, although I feel confident that page seventeen will indeed live on. When more is known, be sure that information will be available here.

Lastly, thanks to everyone who’s ever submitted, read or even mentioned page seventeen, especially if you were nice to me along the way  

Tiggy Johnson (ex-Editor)

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It took a little longer than planned but I’m finally here to point you in the direction of the Events page. We’ve loaded a few photos from the Issue 8 launch and hope you enjoy them.

The launch was a wonderful afternoon where, once again, we filled Burrinja Cafe with contributors, friends and anyone else keen to hear some poetry and enough tastes of short stories that they couldn’t help but buy the book then rush home to find out what happened.

It’s always a delight to listen to the contributors read their own pieces, and I admit to feeling a tear press against my eyelid as one of the readers announced it was the very first time she’d had her name in print. A brand spanking new writer. One of our favourite kinds.

It’s always exciting too to announce the competition winners, and even though contributors receive their copy of the magazine on arrival, it came as a shock to Leah Swann to be awarded first prize in the short story competition, as she hadn’t thought to look up the results. I think this is a first, and it was lovely to share her joy as she realised. I must admit, when I first read her story Streetsweeper I had little cry.

As with any publication, there are a lot of people who worked hard to make sure Issue 8 is as fantastic as it is. So, one last time, I’d like to extend my heartfelt thanks to Vicki Thornton, Ashley Capes, Laurie Steed and Peter Farrar for their fabulous editorial decisions, Graham Nunn and Amanda le Bas de Plumetot for the fine selection of poems and stories from the annual competition and Amanda (again) and Marian Dalton for their exceptional proofreading.

‘Poetry Editor.’ It wasn’t until Tiggy most generously asked me to take on the role for this issue of page seventeen that I realised how much I missed reading and choosing poetry for a print publication. Working on Egg (Poetry) and holland1945 were different from what I do with kipple, where I read one poem at a time. The amount of submissions that passed through the inbox (or postbox with Egg) were vastly superior.

And reading hundreds of poems from nearly two hundred writers over a few months, is another thing entirely. For one, it gave me an intimate view of a nice chunk of the Australian poetry scene. A healthy scene I might add. I also had the thrill of reading work from writers I hadn’t had read for years, people who’d made the other publications I’d been involved with so much better.

Afterwards, I realised I wanted to get some thoughts down on the editing process, and so here they are, hopefully they turn out to be of some use. As a writer, I understand how mysterious it can be, what goes on with editors when they have your work. And I’ve noticed more than a few editors making their selection process more transparent, and I think it’s a smart idea because editors deserve more credit, but also because it may help writers.

For me, editing poetry for a journal is usually split into two broad halves, selection and alteration. Both sides of the role are enjoyable, though I find that selection can be as heartbreaking as it is exciting and that’s what I want to talk about now.

In particular, it’s a tough job when a large amount of submissions fall into the ‘maybe’ pile, leaving only a small percentage of poems to be placed under the ‘yes’ heading immediately. Those that are put into the immediate ‘no’ pile can be the easy part. They are at times too wordy, too slight, too long or even too ‘soap-opera.’ Sometimes they are even missing words or letters from words – so on one hand it’s easy to pass on these poems. What’s difficult is that with hundreds of submissions, it’s not easy to find the time to tell a writer which one of these (at times) minor issues could be the reason a poem does not make a shortlist.

Proofing a poem only takes a few minutes and could mean all the difference – and I wish I could have said this or something similar to many writers who sent page seventeen work for issue eight. Instead, I spent the bulk of my time on the ‘maybe’ pile. And it was big. I was thrilled to have too much good work – it made me really happy. Sending so much of that great work back did not. But a journal is bound by its pages – and no publication has an infinite amount. Space is a consideration. And when two, three, four or more poems must compete for a single space, it comes down to slight but important differences in quality.

For issue eight I made such difficult decisions based on the following criteria (in no particular order):

1)       Is there already another poem which deals with this theme/concern/image etc in the issue/is this poem too similar in tone or structure to another poem?

2)      Would the tone or content of the entire issue become unbalanced if this poem were to be included?

3)      Which poem takes more risk in its delivery, word choice or structure etc?

4)      Which poem communicates best?

5)      Which poem do I think people will want to read more than once?

These are questions that come to mind at all times during a reading period, but especially when it’s down to a number of great poems vying for one page. And some of those criteria are subjective ones, but that is to be expected. Art is subjective, that’s why it’s fun, difficult and ultimately worthwhile. Many of the shortlisted poems that missed out, missed out due to one or two of the criteria above. And I did my best to inform those writers of that, because I feel it’s important to know why a piece was sent back. A rejection on those grounds isn’t a rejection of the poem itself, rather, it’s more a rejection of that particular poem at that particular time and in the context of that particular journal’s current issue.

Looking back over the poetry, and talking to the short story editors, I’m convinced that this issue will be one of the best. I’ve certainly been blessed by the work our poets sent for number eight, and so I’d like to thank them again.

Ashley Capes

I’ve just come off the back of being fiction editor for Issue 8 of page seventeen, having read a whole bunch of short stories. ‘You must be tired,’ people have said to me. ‘Here, have a pillow for you must be oh so exhausted.’

Well, yes and no.

I’m tired because of all the other jobs I do in addition to my role at page seventeen. Reading through submissions, however, was an absolute joy. Frustrating, yes. At times disheartening. But for the most part, there was a simple bliss in reading others’ words, visions, and stories as they searched for a wider audience.

 And what a range: I came across old ladies dying while hiking, time-obsessed mothers, writers who literally saved the world and a dog whisperer… and that was just in the first week. As time marched on, I read of masturbating mothers, pre-wedding jitters, a girl’s first period and some futuristic visions that would frighten George Orwell. All of these (excepting perhaps the sci-fi, which isn’t exactly page seventeen’s strong suit) had the potential to feature in the journal. What stopped them from making the shortlist, however, was an ailment more common than you might think.

I liked many of the stories I mentioned above, but they all needed a fleshing out of the themes, voices and characters within the story.

In Amanda Lohrey’s recent post on writing a short story (available here),  she suggests leaving a story for another month, or three, or six, before coming back to it, so as to ‘let it cook in the oven of your subconscious.’ While six months is a long time to let a story mature, I’d certainly advise at least a month, particularly between the first and second drafts. By doing this, you gain perspective on what is and isn’t working in the story. You sharpen the saw, and with said saw, slash away any characters that aren’t directly aiding the story. You change point-of-view if necessary, and you eliminate ‘that’, ‘however’, ‘to me’, ‘at me’, ‘inside of me’, and any other redundant phrases.

Some writers have told me they write perfect first drafts, so they don’t need to revise. These writers, quite frankly, are on crack. And they’re probably not getting published often.

Writing a great story is not easy. It will make you question your sanity. It will distract you when you’re trying to make love to a beautiful man or woman. But, it’s worth it, because you can always work on the story and then go make love to said beautiful man or woman.

I would have loved to have given feedback to each and every submission this year, but instead I’ll leave these three fragments as lessons learned on the short fiction highway:

1)      Never, ever, send your first draft to an editor. They can spot when a story hasn’t been developed.

2)      Join a writing group with writers that are at the same stage or slightly advanced from you. Sometimes you’re too close to the story to spot its most important flaws.

3)      Your story is done when you cannot do anything else to make it better. Challenge yourself before that point. Strive for excellence: change characters, add and delete scenes. Get an assessment from the VWC if you’re entering it for a big competition, and if not, then still get an assessment, or group feedback at the very least.

Editors don’t owe you the right to publication. You need to prove to them that you’re worth it. How much effort you put in is up to you, but if you don’t go the extra mile, then someone else will… and they’ll be the one getting published.

Thanks to all those who submitted their stories and congratulations to those writers selected. Thanks also to Peter Farrar and Vicki Thornton, my editorial committee for Issue 8. And finally, a special thanks to Tiggy Johnson, who does this every year while still working on her writing and raising three kids

Tiggy has helped foster the careers of any number of writers and poets over the years including myself, Ryan O’Neill, Vicki Thornton, Natasha Lester, Bronwyn Mehan, Nathan Curnow, Sean M Whelan, and Maxine Clarke. Their past contributor list reads like a who’s who of contemporary Australian writing, but at some point they were (and indeed, still are) just writers and poets, searching somewhere for an audience, a place to be published and respected.  And Tiggy has given us that, time and time again.

See you at the launch.

It’s hard to believe submissions have closed and I’m off on my family road trip after one more big sleep. This will be my last post for a while, but Vicki Thornton, Acting Editor, will be taking over while I’m gone, so please make her feel welcome. It seems fitting to share Vicki’s thoughts on this short story before I go.

‘Nights’ by Suvi Mahonen was published in Page Seventeen, Issue 6. I was part of the editorial committee that year and when Tiggy asked if I would like to review a short story from a past issue I jumped at the chance to review this story. Published in 2008, and with all the words and stories and poems and novels I’ve read since, I still remember this story vividly.

Dani Harrison and her husband Mark are ready to start a family. They have bought a house, they are both young and in good health, a family seems the next step in their relationship. Mark, a nurse in the labour ward of a busy hospital, is more than eager for a child. Dani, an artist, is unsure how a child will fit into their life.

Once pregnant though, Dani looks eagerly forward to the new baby. The nursery is planned and prepared. However baby Patrick is stillborn, will never see the nursery his parents have lovingly decorated. In an emergency operation Dani is given an hysterectomy and returns home knowing she will never have children.

The couple struggle to come to terms with what has happened. With the grief of losing their baby but also knowing that there will no other children to comfort them. The final scene of Dani finally returning to her painting. A figure of an old woman, unable to smile, alone, and with ‘a faint line indents the base of her stolid fourth finger’; shows exactly what she can not voice.

This story is more powerful because of what is not told. Relayed in past and present segments, it is thick with a tense silence between the characters. Mahonen looks at these ordinary characters, how they struggle with the isolation of their own grief as well as that of a couple. This story is heavy with loss. The loss of a child but also the loss of a relationship.

Ashley Capes is the Poetry Editor for Issue 8 of page seventeen.

 Stepping Over Seasons

by Ashley Capes

Interactive Press: ISBN 9781921479328 (pbk.)

RRP $25.00

Simply, Stepping Over Seasons is a fantastic collection of short poems that will appeal to both poetry lovers and readers who may have been burned by poetry in the past. Ashley Capes has captured themes such as love / loss / longing, suburban streetscapes, the plight of Outback Australia, and the anguish of the writer’s life, in poems that can be studied for their form or enjoyed for their content.

When you read Capes’ work a distinctive style becomes quickly apparent; he has an ability to form a poem around a seemingly ordinary object. As Justin Lowe writes on the back cover ‘You sense you could point to any object in a room and Capes would conjure the ghosts of a hundred pairs of hands.’ Capes creates a vivid image of an object and the reader is treated to a reconsideration. This object could be small, like the wedding ring in other objects, or an entire house as in shell, once filled with life and memories, the house is left empty;

            our house is a shell again,

            not precious

            and beach-like, just

            a knock for someone else to answer.

This poem, as indeed the entire collection, displays an honesty that is rare in contemporary poetry where so much emphasis is placed on craft and polish. Two poems late night and fujin’s bag expose Capes’ struggles with the life choices of a writer.

Late night compares writing to other arts such as music and movies, and the frustration that can be felt by trying to extract an emotional response with just lines. The twist is in the closing stanza of the poem is the artist’s dilemma, do we live life or create art;

            I guess the great lie of our time is capture-

            … everything can be caught, … so we don’t have to appreciate

            anything in the moment.

The angst of the writers life continues in fujin’s bag where the late night routine of the writer is contrasted with the everyday happenings around him, happenings that he is aware of and yet not a part of; his wife goes for a glass of water at 1 am, strong winds blow outside, all the while the writer is;

            still moulded

            to the desk, blinking

            back sleep, convincing

            myself, somehow

            that all this

            darkness is necessary.

A closing stanza that places in context the solitary life of a writers’ choosing; not book launches or festivals, not drowning in accolades and riches; but late nights fighting sleep while life continues around and without you.

 Capes’ skill in capturing the struggles of rural Australia has been acknowledged with a prize in the 2008 Ipswich Poetry Feast Open Poetry Section for farm and a commendation in the 2009 Rosemary Dobson Prize for small town.

Farm is weighed heavily in metaphors of death as small towns contend with drought;

            hills are bone-grey and a cold hand

            massages the empty river, no prayers

            swim this belly of dust,

            no whispers to quicken fruit.

Likewise, small town describes a vacated town, signs of whatever life the town had are now collecting dirt and any hope of a saviour has been replaced with moonlit dreams;

            no one lives down there

            where the surf plays dead

            and moonlight walks on water.

If I was forced to pick a favourite from this collection it would be by the curve. A poem of loss, the emotion is captured in the description of a simple tea cup ‘shoe brown inside’. The cup sits in a vacant kitchen, other standard cooking utensils surround it, but the cup stands out as it appears to wait for its owner’s return;

            but somehow your teacup

            shrugs off pain

            with a sweeping shadow

            cast low over the dish-rag,

            to me it looks like you might

            return any minute.

Capes has gathered not only wonderful poems but a great collection of objects and moments in Stepping Over Seasons, as he writes ‘everything can be caught’ but  I would add that not everyone has the ability to capture, certainly not as well as Ashley Capes can.

This review initially appeared on the Overland blog, on 12 May 2010.

Vicki Thornton is the Acting Editor of page seventeen for Issue 8.  Last Days of Summer (Mockingbird) is her first collection of short stories. 

Thornton’s style is sparse, her stories brief. Brief enough to fill the smallest moments in a day. Those moments between the usual domestic chores and family pressures, but though the stories are brief they have a depth and subtlety that can linger for hours or days. Longer.

In ‘For a Moment’ we are introduced to Billie, as seen through the eyes of an innocent unnamed girl; as someone wise, someone worth seeking out, someone to sit beside quietly and listen to. We also see Billie through the unforgiving eyes of the girl’s mother, as a homeless person, someone to distrust, someone to avoid. It’s all a matter of perspective. Billie might seem to be someone worthy of pity; she is poor, old and homeless, but she is also independent; free. She rejects the entanglements of the material world, chooses for herself how she will live and how she will die.

In ‘Aerodynamics of Love’, the writer experiments with structure as she dissects and deconstructs a relationship with perfect detachment. The structure itself gives added meaning to the story. Each word is necessary. Believable. There is no need for embellishment.

‘Cicada Song’ reads like a list. This is a story of summer holidays by the beach, a story of childhood. The memories are specific yet there is much for the reader to relate to. These are happy memories tinged with sadness and loss. In childhood, feelings—happy, sad— are equal and depend on each other for context. In adulthood, memories are often the same.

In ‘The Sweetness of Musk’ we are plunged into Jake’s world; a small rural town gripped by drought, where everything is either dead or dying. Jake is a child not yet tall enough to see over the lolly counter; naive to the world beyond the boundaries of his town and the future that awaits him, yet in some ways he is old beyond his years and all too aware of what it means to be mortal.

The characters who inhabit these stories are broken; bowed by circumstance, steeped in sorrow. Thornton lays bare their secret lives, exposes what is usually kept hidden from public view. It is human nature to hide parts of ourselves; to wear a mask. Thornton’s characters are people caught at their most vulnerable, with their faces naked and their private lives on show.

You probably won’t laugh while reading these stories, but you may feel uncomfortable, and you will think. Through her choice of topic, Thornton’s collection explores what it is to be human – the doubt, the struggle, the simple joys, the pain.

Lost shark, Graham Nunn is the judge for the 2010 page seventeen Poetry competition. He shares his thoughts on last year’s winners.

It’s a real privilege being asked to pull on the page seventeen jersey and judge the 2010 page seventeen poetry competition. I have recently been rediscovering issue 7 and want to say straight up that Nathan Curnow did a superb job of judging the competition last year. The winning poem, Black Swans by Chloe Wilson shows impeccable taste!

From first reading, the imagery in this poem draws you in, placing you firmly in the moment. You feel the thrill of discovery as you catch sight of their ‘swarthy plumage’ and hear their ‘soft honks and whistles’, but what gives this poem its incredible power is the way the author uses the imagery of the black swans to reflect on European invasion.

                                                 what did they make

                                                of the strange black bodies

                                                standing coy

                                                among sodden reeds

                                                or afloat

                                                on any flat water wide enough?

 This question gives the poem a haunting tone and is one that circles back on you long after reading. Chloe Wilson is most certainly a poet to watch. I had the pleasure of seeing her read at the Salt on the Tongue Festival in Goolwa recently and purchased a copy of her debut collection, The Mermaid Problem (which features the poem Black Swans). Very impressive!

And the poem that took out second place, Botanic by Ashley Capes (who has also recently joined the page seventeen team as poetry editor), is another stand out. Botanic is brimming with finely tuned images:

                                                 ‘cicadas and crickets in hymn’

                                                ’streets hum with threats,

                                                the casino is purple’

                                                ‘a monsoon of small change

                                                trickling

                                                in and out of vending machines’

In Botanic, Capes brings the natural and built environments together effortlessly, each reflecting the beauty in the other. And each time I read this poem, I lean in a little closer to catch the gossip, lurking in the stands of bamboo.

These poems, alongside the other shortlisted poems published in issue 7 have set the bar high for 2010. Nathan Curnow summed it up very nicely in his judge’s report when he encouraged aspiring entrants to, “Read critically. Pay attention to images, economy of words and to the arrangement of the poem on the page.” So, with these words in mind and the competition gates now open, I wait with anticipation for your entries… All the details are here.

Memories of a Friend by Lisa Fitzpatrick was shortlisted in the 2009 Page Seventeen Short Story and Poetry Competition and is hence published in Issue 7. Current Fiction Editor Laurie Steed shares his thoughts (initially posted on the Gum Wall, Dec 4, 2009, reproduced with permission).

The Story
Jen has broken up with her husband Phil. They have two children together, and Jen’s doing her best not to take it out on the two kids.

She left the relationship because he was beating her, and now busies herself with the day-to-day process of raising her kids. She packs the lunches, considers the housework, and makes a mental list of things to pick up from Phil’s. She has an additional task today; going to see her friend Sal, along with Sal’s newborn baby.

Jen has to work first, watching elderly residents knit, thread by thread at Clarabell Hall, with “nursing home stares”. She heads off at one, leaving them to their world of inactivity, time frozen.

She has reasons to be hesitant about seeing Sal, but wants to be there for her friend, and so pushes her grief down, at least for the time being.

Jen drives to the hospital, stopping first to pick up food and gifts for Sal and the baby. And then, with dahlias in hand, she visits the maternity ward.

Why it Sticks
With good stories, you barely notice the seams as you read. Even better stories have any number of subtly linked scenes, narrative echoes of the overall theme. Fitzpatrick’s story is filled with narrative echoes and thematic symbols, many of which I missed the first time around I was so engrossed by the character’s journey. On subsequent readings, you can literally see motif upon motif, all contributing to articulate the story’s common themes of grief, isolation and guilt.

Memories of a friend also succeeds because it is willing to take risks with its characters, where grey is most definitely the colour. These are not mere caricatures, but real people, with their own flaws, mean-streaks, and petty insecurities…and that only makes their story all the more compelling.

There are a few changes going on at page seventeen this year, and starting this blog is just one of them. Before I let you know about some of the other things, I should give you an idea of what you might expect to find here.

First of all, there’ll be the odd bit of news. For instance, submissions are currently open. That means you can either make a general submission or enter our annual competition. Or both.  That’s good news. Even better news is that they’re open until the end of June, so you have plenty of time to get something together. See our submit page for more information.

We’ll also be posting reviews. Reviews of individual pieces we’ve published or single author titles from people we’ve published. Expect the odd profile and images of some of our authors in action. And a few other bits and pieces we’d like to keep as a surprise for now.

As for changes, this year’s selection process is one massive change in itself. For the first time, I’m not going to have a say in the content, with the exception of one or two pieces. Instead, Issue 8 is in the hands of the following fabulous people.

First up, Vicki Thornton is taking on the role of Acting Editor and will handle a huge chunk of the admin, oversee the selection process and be part of the reading team for our short stories. Not to mention all the little fiddly bits that won’t be mentioned here.

This year we see our first Poetry Editor and a Short Story Editor. I’m very excited to let you know that Ashley Capes is taking on the Poetry Editor position and Laurie Steed the Short Story Editor position. Ashley will handle all the general submission poetry, including the short form pieces, while Laurie will share the reading load with Peter Farrar and Vicki.

Of course we are running the popular Page Seventeen Poetry and Short Story Competition again and this year’s judges are Graham Nunn (poetry) and Amanda le Bas de Plumetot (short story).

In case you’re not excited yet, we’re also having our first ever 2-for-1 sale.

All you have to do is purchase a copy of page seventeen (direct, this won’t apply at bookstores). We’ll send out a 2nd copy of the same issue, or a previous (in-stock) issue of your choice.

What’s the catch? Well, there’s only one: we’ll be sending both copies together, you can’t split them.

But it’s just for April and stocks are getting dangerously low, so get moving.