Publishing Audio Book Poetry

by William P. Robertson
(Duke Center, PA)

Making Poetry Accessible Through Audio Books

Poetry was the first effective writing I did as a youngster. It all began when our ninth grade teacher asked us students to write an original poem to conclude the fun poetry unit she taught. I was especially taken by the narrative verse she had read aloud, so I wrote "Frank Luke" about an American World War I flying ace who gained fame by shooting down German observation balloons.

Mrs. J. raved so much about my rhymed story poem that I began cultivating my newfound talent out of class. To the amusement of my pals, I flexed my creative muscles by penning bawdy doggerel verse that was as humorous as it was naughty. Being a shy kid by nature, composing this poetry became my way of expunging pent-up teenage hormones. Little did I know that I was also establishing an author's persona that would become an essential part of my being. My pen name in those days, by the way, was Sir William Raunch. I adopted the moniker to get a few more cheap laughs from the guys.

I continued to write a lot of singsong drivel until I heard the music of the Doors in my junior year of high school. Jim Morrison's tortured lyrics mirrored my own emotional upheaval, so I began memorizing every Doors' song beat-by-beat, word-for-word. I also started studying what made the Lizard King's message so visceral. In the process I learned how to add personification, alliteration, onomatopoeia, and imagery to my own verse. My subject matter grew darker, as well, as I explored the inner workings of my psyche. Songs like "Soul Kitchen," "Moonlight Drive," and "The End" opened a whole new world to a sensitive, searching boy with a lot of questions about his place in a confusing universe.

Writing became so important to me that I enrolled as an English major at Mansfield State College in 1972. At MSC I immediately added more colors to my creative palette by studying the poetry of George Herbert, Walt Whitman, e.e. cummings, Stephen Crane, and T.S. Elliott. I also wrote one of my best known poems, "The Prophecy," to escape the boredom of a dull professor's class. Three hours each week during a bleak fall semester, I added a few more verses until the poem grew to epic proportions as it revealed the destruction of an Indian tribe by greedy English colonists. That didn't mean that I turned my back on humorous verse, however. At weekend keg parties, I kept my frat brothers in stitches by doing off-color poetry recitals. The guys were especially enthralled by my ribald ballad of a lusty sorority chick known for her sexual prowess. Despite the questionable subject matter, I learned a valuable lesson about the impact poetry had as a performance art through my frequent retelling of this infamous narrative.

After graduating from college, I went on to be a high school English teacher. I don't think I was prepared emotionally for that experience because I still viewed life as a story or romantic dream. Yeah, after immersing myself in classic literature for five and a half years (including grad school), I basically lost touch with reality. I made some terrible blunders because of it and again turned to writing poetry for solace. That was when I began submitting my work to little and literary magazines with no success. It wasn't that my poems were terrible. It was just that I didn't know the markets very well. For example, I was sending love poetry to serious mags and serious poems to 'zines specializing in light verse. It was several years, and a lot of wasted postage, before I learned the uselessness of blindly submitting work to a publication without first studying its contents.

Finally, in 1979 I entered "The Prophecy" in a monthly poetry contest sponsored by Realities Library of San Jose, California. I figured I had no chance because of the epic length of the piece, but miraculously it won first prize! Apparently, other editors noticed my success because my poems were soon being accepted on a regular basis by little magazines around the country. I also began self-publishing crude, saddle-stapled chapbooks of my verse that I mostly used as gifts for friends or for promotion. At two-year intervals beginning in 1977, I released "Burial Grounds," "Gardez Au Froid," "Animal Comforts," and "Life After Sex Life," none of which netted me any commercial gain.

It wasn't until the mid 80's that I discovered another interesting trend. It then became apparent that my darker work was accepted at a much greater rate than my general interest poems. That led me to concentrate almost exclusively on the horror and sci-fi markets where I eventually became a fixture. I began submitting work overseas, too, and within a short decade I'd been published in speculative magazines in England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales, Romania, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and Malaysia. During this time, a small press in Canada released a "best of" collection of my horror verse entitled "Bone Marrow Drive," and I self-published "Waters Boil Bloody," "Hearse Verse," and "Desolate Landscapes."

Despite all the exposure my poetry was receiving around the world, I still was making no money. Although I worked on my writing every day, this remained the grim reality. It was then that I thought back to my fraternity days at Mansfield and all the attention my off-color ballad had garnered during my inebriated performances of it. That's when I hit upon doing an audio book. This became a fun process because a buddy of mine, A.J. Curtis, owned a 24 track recording studio right in my hometown. I had helped write lyrics for his band ShadowFox, so in return he gave me a real break on studio time. I picked only the horror poems I could recite well for the project and invited in friends and family for a party-in-the-studio approach to the recording. Spooky sound effects and keyboard parts were added by the ShadowFox musicians, while my family pitched in with tormented howls and chants of zombie cheerleaders. We even added "You Are a Witch in Pretty Skin," an original swamp rock song, to the mix. The latter sounded so much like a radio hit that I released "Gasp! The Haunted Recitations of William P. Robertson" with high hopes after having the cassette professionally manufactured in New Jersey by Disc Makers.

The success of my new audio book far exceeded my expectations. Not only did it sell extremely well locally, but it garnered national attention from critics, as well. Poet, T.M. Gray, for example, said "there aren't enough superlatives in the English language to express how awesome 'Gasp!' is," while Sandy Raschke of "Calliope" magazine said the cassette "wins my 1999 award for cleverness." Jim Lee of "Scavenger's Newsletter" was equally impressed. He called "Gasp!" "an uproarious, standalone success." Then, there was John Picinich of "The New Jersey Graveline" who felt that "listening to the audio poetry book 'Gasp!' is like sitting around the campfire in a haunted wood while a Zombie regales you with verse of the horrific." Reviews such as these brought me my first-ever mail order sales and a real financial reward for all the long hours spent on the already spiritually gratifying recording.

The local newspaper also did a nice piece on "Gasp!" Shortly after the story appeared, I was invited to read my poems on a Halloween radio show. That, in turn, led to several library readings and a couple of club appearances. Reciting my poems on tape lent personality to them and made them accessible to anyone who listened. I had always had a love affair with the rhythm, rhyme, and alliterative quality of words, and I finally put that across to a surprisingly receptive audience. Doing an audio book brought my work to life and opened doors that had previously been double-locked. Poetry is much more than words on a page. Just ask songwriters whose lyrics net them so much gold.

Visit William P. Robertson's website.

William writes more than poetry. Learn how (and why) he took a book from royalty publishing to print-on-demand, and about his experience addressing a localized market by publishing the horror novel, Lurking in Pennsylvania.