Guest Posting: Go Write Somewhere Else! Yes, You, Get Outta Here!

Our own Dianne Pearce (me) has a new post up at Authors Electric, and it begins with an important literary question:

Which author, living or dead, would you most want to get with? (A topic that deserves serious, serious daydreaming.)

The weirdo answer from Dianne (again, me) is Tom Robbins. Not because of what he looked like, but because of what his writing revealed about the strange, funny mind behind it. From there, Dianne (still me) wanders into attraction, humor, imagination, and the peculiar intimacy of reading someone else’s words.

I (Dianne, obviously) encourage you to go read it.

But while we’re (actually me, or rather, I, I am) sending you over there, there’s another reason writers should have Authors Electric on their radar.

Write somewhere that isn’t yours already!

Get off your duff, friends. Authors Electric accepts guest posts, and opportunities like that are worth looking for.

If you’re an author, it’s easy to spend all your blogging energy writing for your own website. That’s useful, but the people visiting your website are generally people who have already found you. A guest post puts your name and your writing somewhere else, in front of someone else’s readers.

And you don’t necessarily need to write about your book. In fact, please don’t turn every guest post into an advertisement for your book. And, on your own blog, don’t do that either. And certainly don’t blog on one blog solely about going to read something on another blog. That’s something we, here at OSP (well, rather I, me, actually; the rest of OSP has no idea what I’m writing here and will probably refuse to be held accountable for it), would never do. (Go read my post!)

Write something funny. Write about the books you love. Write about research that sent you down an unexpected rabbit hole. Write about some peculiar part of the writing life. Write something that makes a reader think, I like this person. What else have they written? People think that about me all the time (I am assured by my caretakers, who wish to keep me relatively compliant and still).

That’s the point.

Guest posting can give you another byline to share, another place for readers to encounter you, another link leading back to your work, and, perhaps most importantly, a chance to introduce yourself without standing on a chair yelling BUY MY BOOK (but seriously, people, buy our books. Well, mine’s not out yet, but buy the other books from OSP. Go ahead. Make a poet smile, and put down the bread knife. God, poets eat a lot of bread!).

Freaking gorgeous bread.

glorious poppy seeds

glorious poppy seeds
delicious and replete
I love your taste
so very much
I happily pick you

from my teeth

Authors Electric is one place to consider. There are others. Look at blogs and publications connected to your genre, your subject matter, your profession, your interests, or the subjects you research for your books. See whether they accept guest contributions. Read what they publish before you pitch them. (Or just pitch wildly, like me in AA softball in 1970-something; you don’t need to know the date. Shut up about the years gone by! I pitched so wildly they [the coach, my own father] stuck me on second base where I could chomp on a huge wad of Bazooka Joe, blowing bubbles so large they hid my face, and not do too much damage to our losing streak. Wait, what are we discussing here?)

EXCLUSIVE!
Actual for real 100% photo of me in little league, wearing my official AA shirt and standing on second base with my beloved glove in my hand, age 9. People never could steal second from me because I was standing on it, and I could not see them coming, because of the gum.

Then come up with something their readers (which is to say readers who read their website/blog) might actually enjoy. Why would they let you post for them? Certainly because you are a serious author taking things seriously and not at all running around the yard barefoot and dangerously late for work. (By the way, forget the job. Poetry is lucrative!)

And how do you know what kinds of posts their gossamer readers like to read? I don’t know. Why you asking me? (Oh, um, read their blog and see what they write about? That might help.)

A quick scan of Authors Electric tells you that its readers are people who like books, writing, writers, publishing, and the odd places a writer’s mind wanders when nobody has stopped it in time. Posts range from writing and publishing to books and reading, author events, technology, literary memories, travel, personal stories, and whatever else can be dragged back, however tenuously, to a life lived among words. They’re personal, conversational, sometimes funny, sometimes serious, and not particularly interested in behaving like somebody’s content-marketing strategy. They seem to be genuinely nice people (as opposed to faking being nice), and that tracks because they’re mostly in Australia and the UK. I cast no stereotypes or aspersions on one side of the pond, the bog, the gulf of unreachable miscommunication, or the other. If you suggest that I am or that I do, or that I should, I will deny it with the vigor of a Dickens character.

They are also intentionally very light on salty words, unlike me and my prose, because I like every damn thing with extra freaking salt.

Why would anyone want a guest post from you? Your mother may have the answer. She thinks you’re great. But also because posting on a regular basis is really quite exhausting, and you can give another author access to another set of readers while giving the blog’s regular writers a bit of a break. Many hands make light work and all that. (Man, I’m tired. I wish someone else would write this and I could just go empty the percolator!)

And if you think you might like to guest post here, absolutely not, you shameless opportunist! Wait… No. I mean, hey, we might like that. Post a response to this post if you’re interested and tell us how to reach out and touch you (in a platonic way, of course).

And if you’d like to see one example of exactly that, go find out why that lunatic Dianne Pearce (moi, bien sûr) had such a deep (and purely, very pure) professional affection for author Robbins that she would, apparently, have overlooked quite a lot, including the possibility of belly-button fungus.

I mean, it’s Tom Robbins we’re (me, I’m) obsessed with, not John Cheever.

Read “Which Author Do You Most Want to Get With?” at Authors Electric. Go ahead. You know you want to (well, actually, you may not want to, but I would certainly like you to, so consider yourself cajoled)!

Making the Most of One Poem… Part 2

Read It Out Loud

A lot of poets would rather wrestle an octopus than read one of their poems aloud. I am particularly creeped out by octopi, and I would take the octopus over the live event. When I was a young writer, twenties and thirties, I could not wait to perform my work. I always got good responses, as well, to my live readings, so I was so excited to do them. Now, though, standing in front of a room feels strangely vulnerable. I get so nervous I find myself choked up. As a young writer I had a lot of very kind teachers who were delightfully excited about my writing. When I look back at that “young” writing, I don’t think it was very good, so I wonder at that. But their support was marvelous. These days there’s no teacher to be wowed before I go out and attempt to wow the crowd, so I do feel especially …. clumsy, for lack of a better word.

Here’s the thing, though: audiences don’t expect perfection. They aren’t looking for a Broadway actor or a professional voice-over artist. They just want to hear the person who wrote the poem, read the poem. We have a few people every issue of Instant Noodles who record themselves reading their poems, and those always get more hits than the non-readers. Reading your own work gives people something the printed page can’t. They hear where you pause, which words you linger over, and where you smile without realizing it. Even a quiet, slightly nervous reading can help a listener connect with your poem in a new way.

You don’t have to book a poetry reading to do this. Prop your phone against a coffee mug, press record, and read your poem. Actually, if you want to look your best, prop your phone on something eye-level or higher, pointing down. Practice positioning until you feel confident you look okay. I often record myself on Zoom so I have more control over my look. Just open a Zoom account and hop into the “Personal Room” and hit RECORD. If you stumble over a line, pause and start over, in you’re on Zoom, or, if you’re on your phone, stop that recording and start another. Then read it again. Nobody has to know it took three tries. (I won’t tell if you won’t. Sometimes, when I record things, I need a calculator to count the tries!) If video isn’t your thing, record the audio instead. Share it in your newsletter, post it on social media, or add it to your website. You’d be surprised how many people enjoy hearing a poem in the poet’s own voice. It adds a warmth and familiarity the printed work doesn’t give. And, when I’ve listened to some of my favorite poets, I’ve been surprised by one or two who came across as decidedly… different from what I had expected. That added a new depth to the writing that really intrigued me. I would love to hear more of our Instant Noodles authors reader their work.

Next time, I’ll look at how one poem can become several meaningful posts without feeling like you’re repeating yourself.


Making the Most of One Poem… Part 1

Your Poem Isn’t Dead When It’s Published

Sometimes a writer submits a poem to Instant Noodles Literary Magazine, it gets published, and we never hear from that writer again. It’s almost as though the poem completed its mission in life and quietly retired to a folder on a laptop.

I’ve always found that a little surprising.

We work for weeks, sometimes months, on a poem. We submit it. We wait forever. We get the acceptance email, do a little happy dance in the kitchen (or maybe that’s just me), share the publication with a few friends, and then we’re off chasing the next shiny poem. But publication isn’t the end of a poem’s life. It’s the beginning of its conversation with readers.

Most people who would enjoy your work probably haven’t seen it. They don’t subscribe to the journal that published it. They weren’t refreshing the editor’s website waiting for the new issue to drop. They’re just people who like good poetry and would be delighted if your work happened to cross their path. So don’t be afraid to let a published poem keep doing its job. Read it at an open mic. Share a favorite line on social media. Tell the story behind it in your newsletter. Mention it on your website. Include it in a future reading. You spent a long time writing that poem. It has probably earned the right to stick around a little longer than the three days it spent on your Facebook page before disappearing beneath photos of someone’s lunch and a cousin’s vacation.

Next week, we’ll talk about one of the simplest ways to give a poem a longer life: reading it aloud. Don’t worry. Nobody says you have to sound like Lauren Bacall. Though if you do, I’m a little jealous.

Building a Readership: Five Paths for Poets, Path 5.

PATH 5: Take That First Step

One Collection Leads to Another

Many poets spend years submitting individual poems to journals, attending readings, participating in workshops, and building relationships within the literary community. These activities are valuable and often necessary. Yet at some point, many poets begin asking a different question:

“When is it time to put a collection together?”

For some writers, the answer arrives naturally. A group of poems begins to speak to one another. Certain themes emerge. Images recur. The manuscript starts to feel less like a collection of individual works and more like a conversation taking place across dozens of pages.

For others, the decision is more difficult. Many poets delay publishing a collection because they worry they are not ready, that they have not accumulated enough publication credits, or that they have not yet found a traditional publisher. While those concerns are understandable, they sometimes prevent writers from sharing work that is already prepared to meet readers.

One of the great misconceptions about poetry publishing is that publication itself is the finish line. In reality, publication is often the beginning of a new stage in a poet’s development.

A collection gives readers a place to go.

Someone may enjoy a poem in a journal, hear you at a reading, or discover your work through social media. A collection allows those readers to spend more time with your voice and ideas. It transforms a series of individual encounters into a deeper relationship between writer and reader.

Collections also create opportunities that individual poems sometimes cannot. A published book can lead to readings, interviews, festival appearances, workshop invitations, review opportunities, podcast conversations, and future publishing projects. It becomes a calling card for your work and a record of your growth as a writer.

This is one reason many poets discover that one collection often leads to another.

The process of assembling, revising, publishing, and promoting a manuscript teaches skills that carry into future projects. You learn how poems work together. You learn how readers respond to your work. You learn what aspects of publishing you enjoy and which ones you would rather delegate to others. Most importantly, you gain confidence from completing a substantial creative project.

Fortunately, poets today have more publishing options than ever before.

Some writers pursue traditional publication through independent presses, university presses, and literary publishers. This route can provide editorial support, distribution, and professional recognition, but it often requires patience. Many presses receive far more manuscripts than they can publish, and response times can stretch for months.

Others choose to self-publish. This approach offers complete creative control and allows poets to move forward on their own timeline. Modern print-on-demand services have made self-publishing more accessible than ever. However, self-publishing also requires authors to manage editing, design, formatting, distribution, and promotion themselves or hire professionals to assist with those tasks.

A third option involves working with a partner publisher, cooperative press, or author-services organization. These arrangements often combine professional support with greater author involvement and control. Depending on the organization, responsibilities and costs may be shared in different ways. For many poets, this middle path provides a balance between independence and guidance.

The best choice depends on your goals. Some poets value the prestige associated with a traditional press. Others prioritize speed, flexibility, or creative control. Still others appreciate a collaborative approach that allows them to remain closely involved in the process while receiving professional assistance.

Whatever path you choose, remember that a collection does not need to be perfect before it can be published. Every published poet can point to lines they would revise differently years later. Growth does not stop when a book is released. In many ways, publication simply marks the next stage of the journey.

This is particularly important for poets who find themselves waiting endlessly for permission to move forward. A manuscript sitting unread on a hard drive reaches no one. A collection in the hands of readers has the opportunity to create conversations, build connections, and leave a lasting impression.

That does not mean every manuscript should be rushed into print. Thoughtful revision remains essential. Feedback matters. Professional editing can strengthen a collection dramatically. The goal is not speed for its own sake. The goal is to avoid allowing fear, perfectionism, or uncertainty to keep a finished project hidden forever.

Many poets spend years hoping someone will discover them. There is nothing wrong with pursuing traditional publication, and many excellent collections find homes that way. At the same time, poets today have more choices than previous generations. If your work is ready, there may be more than one path to publication.

After all, the purpose of a collection is not simply to exist. It is to be read.

The poems you’ve spent years writing deserve the opportunity to find readers. And sometimes the first collection does more than reach an audience. Sometimes it gives you the confidence, experience, and momentum to begin the next one.


This concludes our five-part series on building a readership for poetry. We hope you’ve found a few ideas worth trying, whether you’re just beginning to share your work or preparing your next collection. We’d love to hear from you. Which strategies have helped you find readers? What challenges are you facing? And what topics would you like to see us explore next? Leave a comment below, connect with us on social media, or reach out through the Old Scratch Press website. Old Scratch Press exists because poets learn from one another, and we’d love your ideas for future articles and series you’d like to see us tackle.


NEW OPPORTUNITY

We’re also launching a new occasional contributor feature called “What’s One Thing You Wish Someone Had Told You?” Poetry is full of lessons we often learn the hard way, and we’d love to share some of that wisdom with the community. If there’s one thing you wish you’d known earlier about writing, submitting, publishing, readings, workshops, marketing, or the poetry life in general, consider writing a short guest article of 500-800 words.

Authors whose articles are selected will be featured on the Old Scratch Press website and along with a short biography, links to their website and social media, and one poem of their choice, whether previously published or not. Our goal is to help poets share both their experience and their work with a wider audience.

If you’re interested, send your article or proposal to guestpost@oldscratchpress.com. We look forward to learning from your experiences.

Building a Readership: Five Paths for Poets, Path 4.

PATH 4: The Long Game

Workshops, Community, and the Long Game of Poetry

Many poets begin writing in solitude. A notebook, a keyboard, a quiet room, and a handful of ideas are often all that’s required to start. Yet while poetry is frequently written alone, few poets build a lasting writing life entirely by themselves.

One of the most valuable resources available to poets is community.

For some writers, that community takes the form of a workshop. For others, it may be a reading group, an online gathering, a local poetry organization, or an informal circle of trusted readers. Whatever form it takes, a strong community can help poets grow, remain motivated, and continue writing through the inevitable ups and downs of the creative process.

Workshops, in particular, offer several benefits. They provide opportunities to receive feedback, hear how readers interpret your work, and identify strengths and weaknesses that may be difficult to see on your own. A thoughtful workshop can help a poet sharpen individual poems while also developing skills that carry into future projects.

At the same time, workshops are not simply about critique. Some of the most valuable lessons come from reading and discussing the work of others. Evaluating another poet’s choices often teaches us as much about writing as receiving feedback on our own poems.

For poets who have never participated in a workshop, finding one is often easier than expected. Local libraries, community colleges, arts organizations, independent bookstores, and writing centers frequently host workshops. Online options have expanded dramatically in recent years, making it possible to connect with poets from around the world without leaving home.

For poets wondering where to begin, there are more options than ever before. Local libraries, community colleges, independent bookstores, arts organizations, and state poetry societies frequently host workshops and discussion groups. Many literary journals, writing centers, and nonprofit arts organizations also offer virtual workshops that allow writers to participate from anywhere.

If you’re looking online, start by following organizations such as Poets & Writers, The Writers Center, local arts councils, and poetry organizations in your region. Facebook groups, Bluesky communities, and writer-focused newsletters can also help uncover opportunities. Don’t overlook literary events themselves. Many workshops are discovered through readings, conferences, and conversations with other writers.

As you explore, remember that workshops serve different purposes. Some focus on craft and detailed critique. Others emphasize accountability, encouragement, or community. Before committing to a long-term group, ask yourself what you hope to gain. Are you trying to improve individual poems? Complete a manuscript? Meet other poets? Build confidence sharing your work? The answers can help you find a community that fits your goals.

One final suggestion: don’t wait for the perfect workshop. Attend a reading. Join an online discussion. Participate in a one-day class. Introduce yourself to another poet. Literary communities are rarely built through a single dramatic step. More often, they grow through a series of small, consistent acts of participation.

When choosing a workshop, it is worth remembering that not every group will be the right fit. Some focus heavily on craft. Others emphasize encouragement and accountability. Some are highly structured, while others are more conversational. If one group does not feel productive or welcoming, that does not mean workshops are not for you. It may simply mean you have not yet found the right community.

people collaborating around a table

Community also plays an important role beyond the workshop itself. The poetry world is built on relationships. The poets you meet today may become future collaborators, readers, editors, event organizers, or simply trusted friends who understand the unique challenges of the writing life.

Many opportunities arise through these relationships. Invitations to readings, recommendations for journals, introductions to editors, and collaborative projects often emerge through conversations within the literary community. While talent and hard work remain essential, few poets navigate the literary landscape entirely alone.

Perhaps most importantly, community helps sustain writers over the long term.

The reality is that poetry rarely offers immediate rewards. Publication may take months or years. Collections can require years to complete. Rejections are common. Audience growth is usually gradual. Writers who expect quick results often become discouraged.

This is where community becomes invaluable. Fellow poets understand the excitement of an acceptance, the disappointment of a rejection, the frustration of a stalled manuscript, and the satisfaction of finally solving a difficult line. They remind us that we are not working in isolation and that the challenges we face are shared by many others.

The most successful poets are not always the most talented. Often, they are the ones who remain engaged long enough for their work to mature. They continue reading, writing, revising, submitting, and participating in the literary world year after year.

This is the long game of poetry.

A workshop will not instantly transform your writing. Joining a community will not guarantee publication. Neither will produce thousands of readers overnight. What they can provide is something far more valuable: growth, support, accountability, and connection.

Over time, those small advantages accumulate. One workshop leads to stronger poems. Stronger poems lead to publications. Publications lead to readings. Readings lead to new readers and new opportunities. A writing life is rarely built through a single breakthrough. More often, it is built through years of showing up, learning, and participating.

If you’re looking to build a readership, don’t focus only on promotion. Invest in community as well. The relationships you build along the way may ultimately become one of the most rewarding parts of your poetry journey.