LETTERS: 1977: 17

LETTERS: 1977: 17

                                               

                                                                                                      Feb  27  ‘77

Dear R.K. Singh,

Your parcel came surprisingly fast—by airmail not by sea mail, as you specified on the envelope.

I have read your poems, and like some of them very much. #5 is an absolute gem. As you pointed out in your letter, I had read some of them before, but I liked reading them again.  Thank you for sending the packet.

Now, I have to tell you that I am embarrassed to report that I would have no idea how to place your poems.  I do not have an editor. My last book of poems  TWO CONTINENTS was sent blind to a poetry competition and to my surprise was successful; the editor of the series told me that 85 manuscripts were submitted, of which 5 were accepted.  So you can see how stiff the competition is.  There are hundreds of poets here, and only a few have editors.   The Two Continents acceptance was a very special thing, the result of a 200^th year American Independence competition and limited  Vermont poets.  And the fact that my poems were accepted does not mean that there is any chance of any other book of mine being published there.  As for other editors.  The editor of Orchard Park & Istanbul has been dead nearly ten years.  The publisher of my three books issued in Istanbul probably would publish again but for a large fee, something I can’t now afford.  My novel remains in New York City at the office of an editor who has not written me a line of report since April last year, when the book was resubmitted after having been revised following a first rejection; that rejection came after 10 months with no word at all from the editor.  So you see how absolute is the editorial control.  We poor authors dare not nudge the editor for fear we will nudge him in the direction of a negative.  We are helpless, unless we have a marketing success, and then, if we choose, we may become arrogant, and make the editor hate and fear us, where until then we must hate and fear him.

I wish I could come to India for a month away from this season of snow and ice.

                                                                                         Cordial good wishes,

                                                                                                Lyle Glazier