Dan Wickett Interviews Olivia Dresher
From Dan Wickett’s Book Review Compilation #7, September 22, 2002.
www.emergingwriters.net
 Dan
Hello Olivia, thank you for letting me into the world of fragmentary writing, and for taking the time to discuss some of your work here.
Olivia
Thanks for your interest and for the opportunity to talk about this genre.
Dan
Could you please describe what you mean by fragmentary writing?
Olivia
Our submission guidelines state that we’re looking for various forms of fragmentary writing, including: journals/diaries/notebooks, letters, philosophical essay-fragments, aphorisms, poetic prose fragments, vignettes, and fiction in diary or letter form. So that gives you an idea of some of the shapes I see fragmentary writing taking.
Actually, fragmentary writing is a difficult genre to define, since it’s often writing that doesn’t fit snugly into one of the more traditional categories (novels, short stories, memoirs, etc.). Sometimes, too, the lines are blurred between this type of writing and more traditional forms. But, generally, I’d say it’s writing which is broken up in some way and isn’t crafted with a distinct beginning, middle, and end. Two forms of writing that are inherently fragmentary are journals/diaries/notebooks and letters.
Journals and diaries are fragmentary because they’re written over time, in spurts, each entry being spontaneously written in the moment without a distinct outline or plan. The dates in a diary break the writing into pieces, pieces of a life. The author is free within this fragmentary form, especially since there’s no need to be concerned about an overriding structure. One just writes, and the writing can take whatever shape the author wishes.
Letters are similar to journals and diaries because they, too, have no rules or overriding structure; the writer can shape them however they wish. A collection of letters is broken up by time in the same way that journals and diaries are.
Often one of the distinct characteristics of fragmentary writing is that one can jump into a paragraph or a few lines and feel an immediate involvement. Fragmented pieces can stand isolated, separate from one another. They’re often open-ended and incomplete, but that is also their natural charm. They reflect the way we think and live.
This is a subject that I plan to write about in depth at some point, and it could become a book.
Dan
Where did the name Impassio come from?
Olivia
In the ideas stage I named the press Impassioned Press. The name “Impassioned” came from the web site that I’ve maintained for some years now (www.impassioned.net). But I began to have doubts about the word “impassioned.” I didn’t want the press to sound too much like a press devoted to erotic literature; I wanted to have a name that hinted at the word “impassioned” without literally being the word itself.
The word “impassio” is a made-up word (it’s “impassioned” without the “ned”). Actually, my partner, Victor, suggested the name during one of our brainstorming sessions, and it stuck, it felt right as soon as he said it. I liked the sound of it and the meaning behind it. “Impassio” also reminds me of the word “impossible”. The press felt like an impossible dream in the beginning—an impossible passion, an impossible press. But over time the impossible dream became a reality.
Dan
The first book that Impassio published (March 2002), One Journal’s Life: A Meditation on Journal-Keeping by Audrey Borenstein, seems a perfect choice to begin your publishing journey with. Was it a book that was being shopped around, or did you commission it?
Olivia
At first I was only going to publish chapbooks. I had published selections from Audrey’s journal in Darkness and Life: Private Writing as Art, so we already knew each other. I had written to her that I was going to begin a chapbook press, and she was the first person to send me a submission. Her “Meditation” was originally a separate piece (essay) that she had tried to get published in a few literary publications. I shaped it to fit into a small book. This work is also included in the several volumes of journals (and pieces about journal writing) that Audrey has typed up from her many years of journal-keeping.
One Journal’s Life is short (only 56 pages) and it’s actually chapbook size, but the book was conventionally produced and also has a spine (so it isn’t a true chapbook). But it did turn out to be the perfect book to begin with, since it’s small and personal. Within the book, Audrey speaks to her journal as if it’s a good friend she’s writing a letter to, a letter describing their long, close, and sometimes stormy relationship.
Dan
What has been the hardest thing about beginning your own small press?
Olivia
The hardest thing for me in the beginning was the fact that there were so many aspects of publishing to learn about at once. But I’ve come to realize that I learn as I go along, and I’m still learning, I feel I’ll always be learning (especially as the publishing world keeps changing). Another challenge in the beginning (which is, actually, an on-going challenge) is how to work within the reality that there is never enough time to get to everything that needs to be done.
Dan
Have you seen much interest or reaction to the recent Poets & Writers article on Impassio?
Olivia
Yes, I’ve received a great response. Many writers are emailing me and sending me submissions. I’ve received a lot of journals as well as submissions consisting of letters. One older man even sent me his actual handwritten journal. I’ve also received quite a few manuscripts that are traditional memoirs (and hence these probably won’t work since they really don’t feel fragmentary in some way). But sometimes it’s hard to draw the line between a traditional memoir and a memoir that’s written in a fragmentary style, and so I find myself reexamining the definition of fragmentary writing as the press evolves and I discover new writers and works.
Dan
How many manuscript submissions are you seeing? What do you consider the quality level of the majority of them to be so far?
Olivia
When the article first came out in Poets & Writers, and for the first two weeks or so after that, I was receiving many submissions and emails per day (up to 15 submissions/day, with an average of about 6). I think it’s beginning to slow down a bit now. (The first people to respond were probably subscribers who go through the latest issue immediately, anxious to find homes for their work.) The quality of the writing I’m receiving is generally good, though I’d like to see more timeless themes being explored, and also I’d like to see writing that’s a bit less guarded. But since we publish so few titles per year, I have to be very selective, which means sending out a lot of rejection letters. But I’m giving every manuscript my personal attention.
Dan
You’ve stated an intention to publish 2 to 3 titles per year. Will this number increase if the number of quality submissions continues to rise, or are there other determining factors as well?
Olivia
I would love to publish more titles per year, and I believe I’d have enough quality submissions to be able to do that (right now I can think of 5 specific manuscripts that I would publish). But we don’t have an unlimited budget and I don’t have unlimited time (almost all my time, already, is being spent on the press), hence the 2-3 titles per year. There are also storage issues (currently the books are stored in the basement of my house), although we might have to eventually pay for storage elsewhere.
Dan
What is the typical print run of an Impassio title?
Olivia
Because of the book’s small size, we only had 500 copies of our first title printed. Our second title, This Is How I Speak, had a print run of 2,000. (We printed more copies of this book because it’s being heavily marketed.) We printed 750 copies of our third title [Water & Earth]. The print run is very book-specific, but I’d say that an average print run is around 1,000. We’ll be printing 1,000 copies of our 4th book, which will also contain full-color photographs.
Dan
That brings up a question, how far in advance do you need to do everything for a book to be published? You mention plans for the fourth book by Impassio. I know from the company web site (www.impassio.com) that the third book is to be published in October 2002. That will be the third this year, so I am assuming number four won’t be until sometime in 2003. That sounds like a long wait for something you already know up to the point of including full color pictures. What creates this length of time from decision to actual publication?
Olivia
So far, each title has required a different time-span, though perhaps this is also a reflection of the fact that I’m still developing an understanding of the process. I’m always working on more than one book at a time; they always overlap. The length of time from the decision to print a book and its actual publication is determined by the nature of each book (and how perfected it was at the time work began on it), as well as other projects and daily work going on at the same time that might keep me from working exclusively on the new title (for instance, the need to continue to market and promote our previous titles, fulfilling orders, answering emails, reading and responding to submissions, etc.). Also, the printing process itself takes at least two months.
Our first title took the most time to produce because we were working on other important projects at the same time—logo and letterhead/business card design, the press release for the launching of the press, the marketing plan for the press, etc., and then 9/11 seemed to set everything back a few months.
Our second title didn’t take as long to produce, although work began on it in late 2001 for the June 2002 release date (though we had books by May). The manuscript itself was in good shape and didn’t require a lot of editing, which speeded up the process.
Serious work began on our third title in the Spring of this year, and we should be receiving the books from the printer sometime next week (in time for the October release date). Ideally, I’d like to have books several months prior to the actual release date (this is what’s recommended in all the literature I’ve read about publishing), but I wonder if it’s ever really going to work out that way.
We plan to publish two titles in 2003 (our fourth title will be released in the Spring, hopefully in April). In June I began to work on this title with the author, gathering ideas about the shape and design of the book. Currently I’m editing the manuscript. Then I’ll be meeting with the author in person to choose the color photographs. A rough copy of the book will be put together for 3-4 specific reviewers (who will write blurbs for the back cover). This process will take us into December. Then in January I’ll be giving the complete manuscript to my designer, and by February, hopefully, the book will be ready to go to the printer. We might have the book printed in Asia, since color is less expensive to print there. And if we do decide to have it printed overseas, the release date might have to be a bit later (perhaps May) to account for the extra shipping time.
In summary, each book goes through many stages toward its actual birth; I’d say it can take up to 6 months of work before the book is actually in print. Each book needs to be edited, designed, proofed several times, and galleys or copies of the manuscript need to be produced for the reviewers who’ll be writing the back cover blurbs.
I work very closely with my authors (every step of the way I seek their feedback and approval). I want Impassio’s authors to be completely happy with their books. I can’t be satisfied with anything I publish unless, first, the author is happy with the book. I want authors to feel that their published book is a dream come true, just as my press is a dream come true for me. Having a close working relationship with the authors is a very important part of the essence of Impassio.
Dan
A question that may be out of left field—is the Dewey Decimal System prepared for fragmentary writing?
Olivia
Ha, I can’t imagine that it ever will be. But, at least, I wish bookstores and libraries would create a section for journals and diaries instead of hiding them in different sections the way they do. Though often when I search the various sections of small bookstores I don’t even find a single diary or journal. Even though many diaries and journals have been published over the last century, a lot of them are hard to find and/or out-of-print. Also, this form of writing still isn’t valued as a literary form in itself; mainly, historical diaries, the diaries of the famous, and “how-to” books on journal writing are valued.
Dan
Do you have a favorite structure within the boundaries of fragmentary writing? If so, why is that your favorite?
Olivia
Personally, I have several favorites within the boundaries of fragmentary writing. As a writer, fragments and aphorisms find their way to my personal notebooks and also end up in the letters I write to other writers. I like to combine writings that come from several different forms into one volume (in the future I’ll be publishing a collection of my fragments and aphorisms from various letters and personal journals).
I spent many years writing and studying poetry and philosophy, and so I tend to be attracted to the fragmented forms that are poetic and philosophical in some way.
I like the condensed form of aphorisms because of their immediate impact and simplicity of form. And I love diaries and letters for their intimate, personal nature. And, most of all, I value diaries and letters because this form doesn’t have any rules, and so writers are completely free to express whatever they want however they want.
Dan
I know from your own site that you’ve been keeping some sort of journal since the 70’s. Have you always kept some sort of journal, and have you always looked at it as a literary object, and not something more akin to a diary?
Olivia
I began keeping a diary 47 years ago, when I was 10. The writing, of course, was only a child’s writings, but I remember loving the ritual of expressing my personal thoughts in a book. But I don’t think I began to look at my journal as my main form of writing or as a literary object until I first read Anais Nin’s diary in 1966. I immediately recognized myself in her writing; that is, I felt at home when I viewed the diary as literary art. However, not everything I wrote in my own journals was on that level; it was a mix (and sometimes I’d lift autobiographical short stories and poetry straight from my journal and submit them to literary publications). Then in 1990—when I quit my full-time job at the University of Washington and decided to put together the anthology of journal writings that would become Darkness and Light—I began to fully understand and live my vision.
Dan
In your experience, have you seen a disparity leaning towards women in terms of keeping, and sharing, journals?
Olivia
I think contemporary American women are more drawn to keeping and sharing journals than men are. I think this has to do with the fact that women probably have more of a need to write down, explore, and resolve emotional feelings than men do. However, a lot of this sort of journal writing, often called “journaling”, is not the kind of writing I view as literature; in fact, I’ve often heard women describe their journals as “dumping grounds,” places where they vent in order to resolve an issue or conflict in their life. This contemporary form of self-help journal writing—which began about 30 years ago and is continually growing—seems to be the general view of what a journal is. “Journaling” has transformed journal writing into a process, and the journal itself becomes a tool rather than something valuable in itself.
Sometimes I feel that self-help journal writing hurts and inhibits my cause, because it has become so popular that people seem to have a hard time envisioning journals for any other purpose.
Yet I acknowledge that journal writing can have very different purposes, all of them valid in their own realm. But my specific mission, of course, is to publish journals that honor this form of fragmentary writing as the unique and exciting literature it can be, a valid form of writing that authors can choose to write in.
Dan
What have been some of the plusses and minuses in having your press set up in Seattle, and not in the New York area?
Olivia
Since Impassio is a small press that doesn’t aim to become big, I don’t see the fact that I’m in Seattle (and not in New York) as a plus or minus. Or, maybe I see it as a plus, because I love Seattle, and feel that I need to live in a city I love in order to write and work.
Dan
A sign of the end of my interview. If you were a character in Fahrenheit 451, which work(s) would you memorize for posterity?
Olivia
My favorite works are by unknown writers (friends) that haven’t published anything in a full-length book. Those are the writings I feel are the most valuable—those that have been written without self-consciousness or external motives. I’d love to publish some of these writers if/when they’re ready.
I’m drawn to many European writers, especially poets, aphorists, and non-academic philosophers who express their thoughts in fragments. One of my all-time favorite writers is the Portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa, a man who lived and wrote fragmentarily. His The Book of Disquiet, in my opinion, is one of the most beautifully written books of the 20th century. He was also ahead of his time in his use of language and his psychological insights.
Dan
Olivia, thanks again for sharing your special insight and interest in fragmentary writing, and the publishing world in general.
Olivia
Thanks, and I hope I’ve indeed offered some insight to your readers.
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