Yesterday, I snuck off to the 11AM movie to see Fay Grim. I REALLY have the hots for Parker Posey, but that's a whole other story.
In this film there is this great line: "Who cares if the writing is horrible -- if it sells, it's publishable." I can't believe that Hal Hartley was able to tap so famously into a compele metaphor for our society. I was reading an article (I think it was via Ron Silliman) about blogs being made into books. Of course, many of these are about sex. Can you say editor at Knofp + very bad poetry = enormous poetry success?
And yet, we are lucky to still have the small publishing world. I have been keeping tabs on Poetry Magazine's bestseller list. It's interesting, for weeks the two best sellers for "major" presses have been written by Mary Oliver and Billy Collins. This does not change. However, the "little" presses flow and change constantly, they include many poets, many forms. Perhaps there is hope.
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