Finding a best reader can be like finding a mentor. They may be out there somewhere in the universe, someone who can not only help your writing, but can change your life. But how do we find this someone?
Three years ago, late September 2021, I had time off between attending a family wedding near Salt Lake City and an event in Spokane. Having previously been a guest writer at Utah Humanities Book Festival events, and knowing those programs ran from late September through October, I searched the Utah Humanities website for a schedule. That was how I discovered a conference in rural Utah where I personally knew two of the three featured writers. There was a fee for daytime workshops, but evening readings were free and open to anyone. Since the conference was in the direction I was traveling, I decided to go, and reserved two nights at the nearest available accommodations, a campground almost 30 miles from the conference.
My first night I attended a reading and reception, met several writers, and passed along poetry cards I was carrying in a pocket. My second night was similar, though one of the attendees, who I only knew as Rachel from Salt Lake City, said she really enjoyed the poems I’d given her the night before, then asked if I had any books.
“Do I ever,” I said, then led her outside to my car, where I gave her a quick tour. She was especially taken by the Sonnets project. She bought all eight of those, plus my Creative Writing manual, plus two other poetry volumes. Though I offered her a discount because she was buying so many, she insisted on paying full price But because I didn’t accept credit cards, and she didn’t have cash or check, we were briefly at an impasse.
“You know, I also do trust, You have my address in Anchorage, and I know you’ll be good for it.”
She nodded, and took the eleven books.
Two months later, after events from Washington to Alabama, I’d recently received my latest batch of forwarded mail., and realized I hadn’t heard yet from Rachel, nor had I a way to contact her. Combining “Rachel” “poet” “Salt Lake City” in a search engine went nowhere, and I didn’t have more to go on. I didn’t even have a last name. So I wrote to one of the featured readers from the rural Utah conference, and asked if there was a roster of attendees, with contact information.
There was, and I had a full name and an email address, so now had a way to reach out to Rachel, who owed me $180.
When I wrote her, I mentioned that maybe she’d already sent a check, which might now be on its way, but if she hadn’t, I’d recently started a Kickstarter campaign for a novel, Now Entering Alaska Time, which was soon coming out from a publisher in India. I suggested that instead of mailing a check, she might find it easier to contribute through online crowdfunding for a novel which I thought she’d enjoy.
Within the hour, Rachel had contributed, plus had kicked in an extra $708, a total donation of $888. She explained she’d sometimes bought visual art, and her support was in keeping with that; she’d been reading my books, and thought I was deserving.
The $888 not only entitled Rachel to a copy of the novel, but to all my other books. It also bought her a solo show. Several weeks later, again in Utah, I had the novel in hand, and Rachel hosted a book release/concert at a local arts center..
That was our start. Since then, Rachel has also become the best, most supportive reader I’ve ever had. That she likes and is enthusiastic about my writing—that’s one thing. But she also has a good, critical eye. She’s taken the time to read lots of my unpublished work. Before long, I’ll revise my memoir about money that she’s read and commented on.
She’s also been supportive in other ways. On one visit, she overcame my resistance to (and incompetence with) technology to successfully guide me to a working Venmo account, which has proved helpful with book sales. She also thought I deserved a Wikipedia page. Though it took several months and multiple tries, she successfully navigated the process.
A year and a half ago, spring 2023, we met for a meal when I was once again driving through Utah. “Lots of writers also edit literary magazines,” she said. “We could start one.”
That idea was the start of our journal, THE NOMAD.
Its online launch was July 2024. August, we celebrated with live events in Ogden and Salt Lake City. We’ll publish a print edition in October, then a second online edition, aiming for January 1, 2025. We’re now well into planning future issues. Rachel and I both have come up with ideas to make this particular journal not just new, but necessary. Rachel’s been the one getting our contributors’ words online and in print. www.the-nomad.org
I’ve never had a mentor, like many writers have been fortunate to have had. Nor have I ever found a group of peers to share work with over time. Graduate school in Fairbanks may have offered me time to write, and a place I loved. Graduate school also gave me an imagined path forward. But graduate school was more than 35 years ago. I’ve been on my own since, and am often lucky to find anyone to read my work before submitting it for publication.
Now that I’ve found a best reader, I have help.
Anyone reading this, I have no doubt that if you keep putting yourself out there, you, too, will find your own essential support, though like so much in this world, it may not come to us in the ways we expect. We all have resources.
We just have to use them.
Ken Waldman has drawn on 39 years as an Alaska resident to produce poems, stories, and fiddle tunes that combine into a performance uniquely his. 12 CDs mix Appalachian-style string-band music with original poetry. 20 books include 16 poetry collections, a memoir, a children’s book, a creative writing manual, and a novel, Now Entering Alaska Time. Since 1995 he’s toured full-time, performing at leading festivals, concert series, arts centers, and clubs, including the Kennedy Center Millennium Stage, Dodge Poetry Festival, and Woodford Folk Festival (Queensland, Australia). Beginning in 2024, he’s founding co-editor of a literary journal, THE NOMAD.