by john | Dec 18, 2009 | Poetry, Writing
You like that? I got all artsy and French in the title. Good, huh? You can just see me sitting in a cafe wearing a beret smoking cloves, right? Ew. Don’t visualize. And fuck the French, cheese-eating surrender monkeys.
Okay, got that outta my system anyway. So last night was the second night of the All Arts Market at the Neighborhood Theatre, and it was significantly better than Day 1. Not only did I get my spot moved from the absolute ass-end of the frigid hallway into a room with other people, there were people buying things, too. I sold one book all night on Wednesday, and by the end of the night last night I’d sold eight books and bartered four more with other artisans. I traded books with Martique, another local writer and artist, and traded a book to my neighbor Desta (website coming live soon) for a great photo of a patina blue hippo, and swapped a book for some hand-painted bookmarks by another chick who was in the same room selling stuff. Of course then I promptly lost most of the business cards from the people who I traded stuff with, because I was woefully unprepared for self-promotion at this event.
You’d think I’d be better than that, after years of promoting my theatre company, Barbizon and myself as a poker writer, but I didn’t even have a tablecloth (that was bartered for another book) much less business cards. I did at least have pens and books, and some cash to make change for folks, so I wasn’t a complete waste of space. But if I’m going to sell books at these arts shows, I’m gonna need to step up my game a little. I enjoyed it, I like talking to people about poetry and about writing, but I’m also thinking that maybe the format of RTF isn’t exactly right for sales. Because it’s a collection of stories and poetry it makes it harder to get people to wrap their heads around the book. When I opened a copy to a couple of poems and encouraged people to read a poem or two, they got a handle on things, but when I just left it laying there closed people were less willing to pick up a copy and leaf through. I guess they didn’t wanna crack the spine and make it unsellable or whatever. So I’ll get a tablecloth and some business cards, and the next book I publish will be either all poetry or all stories (or Choices, it’s not dead I promise).
I also met a woman from the local storyteller’s guild, which meets every month at a Barnes & Noble, so I’ll check them out. I owe her that much – she bought a book. Still time to get your orders in for Christmas – click the button on the sidebar to order! (I’m re-learning the art of shameless self-promotion)
by john | Dec 17, 2009 | Poetry, Writing
So this whole self-publishing thing is a bit of a grind. To date I’ve made back about 1/3 of what I spent in publishing the book, which isn’t terrible for a first-time endeavor, and it’s not like it cost me very much cash to begin with. Last night I went to the All Arts Market in the arts district here in town, set up a table and sat there for four hours. To sell one book. That was a little brutal. But I knew when I printed 100 copies that most of them were going to go to friends and family for Christmas (so if you’re related to me and reading this, at least have the grace to feign surprise). It’s not like anybody makes any real money writng and publishing poetry, but it should at least be able to be a break-even proposition. I plan to approach local colleges about doing appearances and readings there, so that’s another avenue to sell a few copies.
It’s not really about the money, it’s more about changing the way people view poetry. One of the greatest compliments I got this past weekend was from DrChako, who told me that he’d never really cared for poetry, but that my stuff made a connection with him. That’s what it’s about for me, making connections and telling good stories. Maybe I do it with fewer words and a different format than most writers, but it’s the same thing – storytelling. So I want to push the boundaries of what poetry is supposed to be, because I don’t think very many people have it right. I dunno, maybe I’m way off base and everybody is writing accessible, clear-minded stuff nowadays, but I don’t think so. I think there’s a lot of purposefully obscure drivel out there that drives people away from the form, and somebody needs to show people that there can be other accessible poetry that isn’t slam poetry. It’s not to take away from the slam poets, but it’s not what I do, and it’s not the only game out there.
So that’s all I want to do – change an entire societal view on poetry and poets. We’re not ALL effete beret-wearing omnisexuals who smoke cloves and drink lattes. At least not every day:).
And I’m trying to make a concerted effort to write a little here every day. That will likely blow up in a matter of days, but for now, we’ll keep it rolling.
by john | Dec 16, 2009 | Poetry, Writing
Well, on the bright side, it wasn’t THAT phone call that woke me up this morning. Those of you with aging parents knows the one I mean. Those of you with kids in their teens know it, too. When my dad showed up on the caller ID, I knew something had happened to my mom. Dad knows better than to call me at 7AM, after all. I was right. Mom had fallen and they were loading her onto an ambulance. She didn’t seem to have broken anything this time, just a nasty gash on her head, but it was a spectacular way to start my day, a day that had promised to be truly lovely (insert sarcastic tone here) from the end of yesterday.
I like my job, really I do. It pays me well, it’s pretty enjoyable, and I like the folks I work for and with. But some days just outright suck, and yesterday was one of them. A client with more stroke than sense wants to get a studio built in three weeks, and because they’re connected to enough important people, I can’t just laugh at them like I usually would. I have to employ tact and restraint, words not typically associated with yours truly. And I want to get the order. I’d like to close out the year with another one in the “W” column, even though it’s a job that I’d usually throw under the bus because of the stupid timeline. So I’ve got that to look forward to for the rest of the week.
One interesting note – I’ll be at the Arts Market at the Neighborhood Theatre for the next two nights peddling my book. They only wanted $15 for a table for two nights, so I decided to take a shot. Hopefully I can sell more than two books and show a profit! I’m trying to figure out this whole self-publishing/self-promotional author thing, but I’m starting to pick up a few things. For example, I’ve stopped posting new poetry here because a lot of magazines and contests won’t accept submissions that have been previously published anywhere, including blogs. And since magazines and contests are kinda key to getting someone ELSE to pay for publishing my next book, that’s pretty important. I’ll still put stuff up here from time to time, and you can always come out to one of my readings to check out what I’ve been working on. But in the meantime I’ve gotta go get a demo console set up for a customer, so I’ll check back in later.
by john | Nov 17, 2009 | Gambling, Poetry, Vegas
Does anyone have a good plugin or app to keep comment spammers off your WordPress blog? I’m by no means an expert on the format and I get tons of spam comments each day. So I’d love your help if there’s a solution out there that I just don’t know about.
Back in Atlanta this week, working (ish) ’til Wednesday afternoon. Got no plans tonight if you’re in the ATL and wanna get together, let me know. I’ve pretty much settled into a routine of staying at the Marriott Century Center, because it’s convenient to the interstate and thus my office in Midtown. It’s decent, and as of last night I’d locked up Marriott Platinum status until 2011, so I get the concierge level rooms. The nice bath mat and robe in the room is pretty spiffy, but I haven’t taken advantage of the concierge lounge yet. May check that out tonight.
Thanks for all the nice Facebook comments on my poetry contest win a couple weeks ago. It was pretty wacky to me to win the thing, since I’d never entered a poetry contest before. So I was shocked when I got the notification, and pleased because the way the poem came about was really neat. So I read the piece at the last meeting of the Writer’s Club, and it was very well-received. I kinda only started going to this club because my senior HS English teacher is on the board, so that gave it a measure of respectability in my mind. I gave her a copy of my book at the last meeting, and she was touched a little by the gesture.
Nothing really to report, since I had my crushing run at Omaha in West Virginia I’ve since given back $100 to the poker economy of Cherokee, NC on the electronic tables there, and dropped a gross $240 in my home game last week. I kept ending up second best, with draws that didn’t get there, or hands that wouldn’t hold up. I did manage to crack BadBlood’s aces with my kings in a hand that had we been playing deeper I could have gotten away from, but didn’t rake a significant pot for four hours after that.
In the AA v KK hand I had position on Blood, who was very early to act. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t UTG, but it was close. He raised preflop, his buddy Mike called and I three-bet. Now my preflop three-bet range is fairly narrow, and I need to work on expanding that, but I when I took his $3.25 raise to $8, I’d pretty closely defined my range as being a big pair or AK. Action folded around to Blood, who re-popped me to $31. Mike got out of the way and I thought to myself “He’s got Aces, but I don’t have any chips, I wish we each had a pile of money so I could get away from this hand.” But I had less than $40 in front of me, so I shipped it in. Blood called the five or six extra dollars, and I made a set on the turn to come from behind. I did have a bit of a sweat, as the Ks on the turn was the third spade, but I faded the flush and doubled up. It didn’t happen again all night, so I became the spewmaster. It wasn’t pretty.
Hopefully I can provide a better showing for myself in Vegas in a few weeks. I’m looking forward to seeing all of you there, and so is Suzy. We get in relatively early on Thursday and leave Monday, so we’ll be around to party and we’re both planning on playing the tournament. I bet I wouldn’t win a last longer with my wife.
A new episode of the Gambling Tales Podcast is coming up first of next week, with the inimitable Dr. Pauly as our special guest. We’ve got two more episodes in the can after this one, then we need to pick up more material for later shows. If you’ve got a great gambling story, drop us a line at gtpodcast@gmail.com. Thanks to everyone who’s downloaded and publicized the podcast, the response has been great and we’re having a blast doing it. I think starting in the new year we’re gonna try to do some promotional things, maybe with Cake Poker (bonus code GTpodcast!) in a shameless attempt to monetize the podcast and get more listeners.
by john | Sep 24, 2009 | Poems, Poetry
Sometimes things work out in odd ways. I did the Story Slam reading a couple weeks ago, and after the Friday night session, Gina Stewart and Brenda Gambill, better known around Charlotte as the ringleaders of Doubting Thomas, played a set. Gina told a great story about walking through New York City and seeing a guy sitting in the doorway of the Chelsea Hotel cutting himself, and the conflicted feelings she felt before she went over to him to see if he was okay. It shook loose a chunk of poem that I’ve had locked up for a while, and I pounded this out the next afternoon. I read it that night and it got a good reception. I haven’t named it yet, maybe I’ll just call it Chelsea. The filename I saved it under was Wet Concrete, but that doesn’t feel right.
I don’t see him dragging a stolen Food Lion grocery cart uphill
loaded down with a hot water heater and cans picked up
off the side of the road
heading for the recycling center hoping for just enough
to get another bottle of get me through the night.
I don’t see her pay for a corn dog and cup of complimentary ice
with pennies and haul the seven mismatched garbage bags
that make up her whole world out into the heat of the August afternoon.
I don’t see him sitting in the rain mumbling at nothing
and carving names into his wiry limbs with a rusty jacknife
while his own blood drips pink
and runs off down the sidewalk,
puddling for a second around my Ecco loafers.
But I see you
kneeling in front of a wild-eyed Walt Whitman madman
to say “hey man, you alright?”
I look at you
in your duct-taped Doc Martens
thrift-store Dickie’s work shirt
maybe a dollar and a half in your own pocket
while you kneel on the wet concrete
to touch the face of a stranger
and for a minute
before the world washes my vision away again
I see.
by john | Sep 22, 2009 | Gambling, Poetry
I’m trying to get back to blogging on a more or less regular basis, and for now I’m obviously leaning towards the “less regular” side of things. Back from Pensacola/Biloxi, and managed to recoup some of the losses I saw on my trip there earlier this year, picking up about a $400 profit on the trip. My bankroll is still pretty anemic, but that’s just the status quo for right now.
If you’re in Charlotte this weekend, and have any interest in seeing me read my poetry, come out to Festival in the Park. I’m reading Friday evening and Saturday morning on the Theatre Stage, and I’ll have copies of my book to sell as well. I’m reading at 6:30 Friday and at 11:15 Saturday, so I hope I’ll see you there. I also will be doing a special evening at Story Slam! later this fall when I read poetry with a couple of friends, so I hope you can make that as well.
As trip reports go, this one will be pretty boring, not many hands of interest, but a couple. I played the noon tournament at the IP in Biloxi (a significant upgrade over the property of the same name in Vegas) and busted shortly after the first break when it turned into a shove-fest. I moved over to 4/8 limit to get my feet wet for a little while and treaded water for a couple hours before I decided to go look for greener pastures. I think I cashed out up about $5 on the limit game, which means I was down about $100 for the day with tournament fees, some ill-advised time at a slot machine and a minor Pai Gow loss. But I did have a free buffet coupon, so at least I ate for free.
I headed over to the Isle of Capri, which again was a decent enough place, if small. Most of the casinos around Biloxi felt small, and the thing that continued to screw me up was the fact that they were multi-level casinos. Not huge hotels with casinos, but two and three stories of gaming. So you took escalators to different sections of the gaming floor. I think it hearkens back to when they had to be built on boats or at least piers, so they needed to have a smaller footprint. I think the Belterra in Indiana was also two stories. But it was odd to me to have the machines and tables split up by escalators.
So I played 1/2 at the Isle and ended up with a good session, although it didn’t start well.I picked up a few small pots here and there and finally called a raise in early position with QJo against a loose player who was catching everything he went after. I know, even for me that’s a loose call, but the two other callers helped. The flop helped more, coming down Q-J-x rainbow. Gin! Even better gin when the guy in front of me, who was steaming a little after stacking off to the laggy chaser open-shoved for 80+ into a $45 pot. I put my $88 into the pot, and the laggy chaser called both our all-ins. He was getting about 2.5-1 on his money, so I could see where chasing the gutshot with unimproved AK seemed like a good idea. The guy who open-shoved tabled Q-8 for just top pair, and I tabled my top two.
You know the story, right? Not just a 10 on the turn, but the river as well, in case I missed the straight the first time. So there went my first buy-in. On the one hand, I bought in short so it didn’t hurt as much. On the other hand, if I’d had $188 in my stack instead of $88, I probably could have pushed him off the draw. Meh. Poorly played on all streets. Again.
So I reloaded for another hundred and went back to work. Now I only had a day, so I only took $500 with me to Biloxi, and it had all the makings of an early night, but I started to run a little better, read little better, and generally play a little better. I had developed a tight table image (not sure how that happened), so when I raised UTG to $11 with pocket eights, I was surprised to see a guy two seats down (we’ll call him Steamy) re-raise me to $40. He gets one guy to flat-call, and I look at my stack of about $120. I can’t call here, because I’m out of moves at that point, and I think he might be looking to exploit my tight image by pushing me around with Ace-paint. So I shove. Steamy folds, the flat-caller flat calls, and the board runs out J-J-5-x-x. I show my eights, the caller mucks, and Steamy goes apeshit about how he gave me too much credit and it wouldn’t happen again. I couldn’t resist trying to stick the needle in a little further, so I looked down and said “Tens?” He replied with “I folded the winner, that’s all YOU need to know.” As I was stacking the pot, I gave in to temptation again and said “Obviously you didn’t, because I’m stacking chips.” Dickish, I know, but it felt good. I also knew that if I got the chance I could double through him because there was no way I’d ever push him off another hand.
And I didn’t. I picked up two kings in early position, made the same raise to $11, and he three-bet me to $40. I shoved for a little over $220, and he quickly called. No ace hit the board, and even though I was a bit concerned that he may have flopped a set of queens, he quickly mucked and left as I tabled my kings. That hand put me at the high-water mark for the table, and I began to seriously think about leaving. I’ve gotten a little gun-shy about being the prohibitive big stack at the table, because of horribly mis-playing a big stack in Charleston and not racking up when I realized I had the entire table covered. So I paid a little more attention to what was going on and took care not to loosen up too much before I made the decision to leave. Not long before I headed out, a guy sat down who was obviously a regular, and obviously a player. He looked around the table, checked out the stacks, and made sure he had enough to stack anyone sitting there. Apparently there’s no max buy-in to most of the no-limit tables in Biloxi, because that wasn’t the last time I saw somebody sit down and buy in huge to a 1/2 game. I played a few pots, picked up a few chips, and then racked up when the blinds came around again. He confirmed my suspicions when he said “You can’t take all that money, it’s the only reason I put this much on the table!” I left him disappointed and took my profits off into the night.
Crashed at the Grand because I could use Total Reward points toward my room, and if I didn’t use them before November they’d vanish. The Grand doesn’t have a poker room, but the room was only $99, and I had enough points to cut it to $50 by the time it was all said and done. I spent a little time at the tables playing a game called Flop Poker, which I’d never seen before.
It’s kinda like real poker, and kinda like Let it Ride. You put $5 into the pot, as do all the other players at the table. Then you put a $5-$25 ante down. You get 3 cards, which you look at and decide if you want to stay in the hand. If you do, you match your ante with a flop bet. I gave up on trying to evaluate starting hands and just played blind, which means you put your $5 ante and flop bets out before you ever get cards. The dealer then turns over a 3-card flop, and you must use two cards from the dealer’s hand to go with your three cards to make a poker hand. You have to make Jacks or better to win the ante and flop bets, but the best 5-card hand wins the pot regardless, because that’s where you compete against the other players.
So I played that for about an hour, and hit a couple of big hands. A straight at that game pays out 11-1, so that was worth $55 on one hand, and then I made a full house, worth 30-1 or $150. After that I decided to toss the dealer a redbird and go on to bed.
