Let Me Lay it Out For You

The best part of the publication process & when the internet doesn't suck

Dear Lovely Readerly Humans,

Here’s a quick turnaround from my last newsletter—down from 3 months to just 3 weeks! But I write with a time-sensitive question, and I leave for Switzerland tomorrow (yay--I’ll be in Fribourg, as somehow I’ve been invited to do a reading and presentation for the august “Association of Swiss Teachers of North American Literature,” a title that seems so . . . Swiss.)

Thus, I will be uncharacteristically brief.

But first, this bit of levity—an outtake from a photo shoot:

The photographer had the idea to capture various poets in ways that represent their work. I was thrilled when he asked to coat me in glitter, because he liked this piece from Heating & Cooling: 52 Micro-Memoirs:

WHY I’M SWITCHING SALONS

“We can put on a topcoat with glitter,” said the manicurist. “We’ve noticed you like attention.”

Although it took a makeup artist about an hour to glittify me, we never ended up using the glitter photos in the project. The glitter was multi-colored—red, blue, green, and silver—but unfortunately it read in the photo as dark gray. So only when we later studied the photo did we realize it looked a bit too much like black face. (!) Egads. Abort project immediately. But he sent me the photo for my own records, and I thought I would share it with you loyal Bethannigan readers, alongside this explanation so you know the intention (and can appreciate the makeup artist’s hard work!) And now: delete.

I’ve Got Designs

I’m at the point in the book publication process that’s the fun part—design. I’ve already done the worst part—asking for blurbs, an activity I loathe so viciously it could almost put me off ever writing another book. Like most authors, I cheer on the experiment launched by Simon & Schuster, which has made noise about doing away with blurbs in general. I, however, was told I needed blurbs, so I gritted my teeth and made my asks, painful though it was. Now I’m waiting and hoping and checking my email, in the same way I’m circling my garden, hoping my zinnia seeds bloom.

Way more fun—going through copy edits, which is always enlightening. I’m an English professor and could at all times be wearing that T-shirt that reads “I’m silently judging your grammar.” But now MY grammar has been judged and found wanting. It’s shocking, the amount of copy-editor corrections. For how many years have I been writing “rib cage” as one word? (Also, shouldn’t it BE one word? The ribs are being caged, am I right? They are not free-range ribs). And maybe you knew if you google something, you use a lowercase “g,” though the noun form takes a capital? And then there’s questions of house style—Norton, for example, wants COVID in all caps, which seems like shouting to me—and while Covid is technically an acronym, we never think of it that way, do we? So for that I felt at liberty to type “stet,” or “Let it stand” in Latin (everything sounds better in Latin).

And the other fun part—seeing the book come into shape physically through the genius hands of the artists at Norton (a press known for beautiful books). I haven’t seen my cover yet, so that’s a much-anticipated moment happening soon. In the meantime, I’ve received two options for layout on the book’s inside. And I’m changing my mind and changing it back again. Wanna help a sister out? If so, study the following two designs for a moment before reading on:

While I like the look of the plaid, and I’m ALWAYS one for maximalist aesthetics (cf. glitter), I’m leaning toward the plain version. I think the plaid with the shamrock makes the project seem TOO Irish, like kitsch Irish? As if the book was written by this dude:

Photo by Skyler Gerald on Unsplash

And maybe after picking up the book and looking at the cover and then flipping the page to see the plaid, the visuals will appear too busy? Do y’all think I’m right? If you have an opinion on lay out kindly lay it out it in the comments. I have a wee bit of time to consider.

When the Internet Doesn’t Suck

A few weeks back my youngest played a rock gig at the Casey Jones Fest in Water Valley. Maybe “gig” is too fancy of a word. He takes lessons in a “School of Rock” type music school, which is a thing I wish was around when I was a kid—I hated music lessons, which seemed like learning chords for a dozen years to master “Mary Had a Little Lamb”—the kids now learn how to play by selecting a rock song they love and working to master it well enough to play it.

So, his band, “The Rock Prophets”—composed of Nolan, his BFF Julian, and their band teacher—could play exactly three songs, so that’s what they played during their 15-minute slot at 11:15 a.m. I filmed his three songs, of course, and thought it was awesome, of course, and made a clip of the opening to Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Proud Mary” and posted it on Instagram, knowing my pals would get a kick out of it. Which they did.

bethannfennelly

A post shared by @bethannfennelly

(feel free to click on photo to give it a listen)

I thought the matter would end there, with my friends. But the views kept racking up, and while the first comments were from folks I know (Nolan’s teacher commented “Where’s that heat in our third period English class?”) soon the likes and comments were from names I didn’t know. I don’t understand how the algorithms work but somehow the video clip was being shared to and among musicians—most of the instagram handles mentioned something about bands, including @ Imaginedragonsofficial. I felt a bit of dread, thinking that these musicians would find my middle schooler’s efforts laughable—Social media can be so snarky—but—get this—only 2 comments have been negative (one guy poked fun at my son’s weight; there’s always that guy) (the other felt my son should be using “open chords not closed chords”—there’s always that guy, too. I answered simply, “Dude, he’s in middle school.”) Now that 10 second clip has had 87,000 views, 2,000 “likes”—the musicians weren’t sharing this video out of spite but out of a bemused nostalgia and a spirit of encouragement. How comforting I’ve found the comments— “gnarly riff, little lad!” Think of all these middle-age rockers remembering their first gigs, their first songs (“Proud Mary was the first song I learned to play from beginning to end”) their starter amps, passing along tips:

@ robert_paul_38221 “I love everything about this video as I remember being this young guitarist over 30 years ago. Best advice I can give any young guitarist is listen with your ears and not eyes when getting guitars and equipment. Rock on little man.” @ mikeinx “Good luck little man! I was there too! Played in front of a gas station at 14.” @ londonbauman “Very solid rhythm playing, that’s usually a hurdle for new players. Keep it up man!” And there were even a few comments that, though positive, I didn’t share with my son: @ drive_thru_parlay “Hell yeah, I wore Chucks first time on stage too! Hope your boy has a long, happy musical journey filled with all the women and drugs he can handle. Rock on, little brother.” Thank you, internet, for not always bringing out the worst in everyone every time.

Ok, that’s it for me. But remember:

You let them shenan once,
they'll shenanigan.

You let them Beth Ann once,
they'll Bethannigan.

And Finally Remember:

The Bethannigan is free! The Bethannigan doesn’t want your money. The Bethannigan only wants your love. Praise me, pet me, share me, feed me. Take me home and tell your friends. Apparently if you like or comment below, it helps other people find The Bethannigan? Or if you have a Substack, recommend me? Do the thing! Point the way! Thanks, pals!