Oregon
Literary
Review
Vol. 3, No. 1

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Evelyn Sharenov
THE WRITING LIFE:
A discussion with Dennis Stovall,
coordinator of the publishing curriculum for Ooligan Press,
Portland State University


 

 

Writers are acutely aware of the near impossibility of ‘making it’ as freelance writers – ‘making it’ defined as the ability to access an up-to-date computer with internet service, pay rent/mortgage without having a large inheritance, employment in a field that you view with grave distaste or a roommate or significant other that you would rather not have.  It is the ability to put nourishment into your body, support a child and/or dog, see a movie now and then, buy a latte, take a vacation; it is the ability to keep body and soul alive on more than a meager pittance through the years it takes to write/edit/publish.  More and more of us make less and less money through our writing, as it has become a general practice for numerous distinguished journals and anthologies to publish without paying writers for their work and for writers to accept these terms in return for the prestige of being published in certain places.

 

Idea and opportunity coalesced.  It was with great hope for a future less bleak that I contacted Dennis Stovall, the coordinator of the publishing curriculum for Ooligan Press, a general trade and teaching press at Portland State University, for a conversation about his unique program that offers a Master’s Degree in the art and craft of publishing.  

 

I first met Dennis Stovall when I moved to Portland, Oregon, seventeen years ago.  He has long been a prominent figure in Oregon’s literary scene – as a writer, teacher, publisher and

 

all around cheerleader of the writing community since the 1970s.  He and his wife Linny founded Blue Heron Press.  Dennis has won numerous awards and recognition for book design and excellence in writing, as well as his contributions to the literary community.  He has served on the boards of the Pacific Northwest Writers Association, the Oregon Writers Colony, the Northwest Association of Book Publishers, and the Oregon Publishers Industry Alliance. He is currently a trustee of Literary Arts, Inc., where he also serves on the Oregon Book Awards advisory committee. In addition to organizing the publishing program, Dennis teaches Introduction to Book Publishing and leads several graduate seminars. 

 

Thumbing through the May/June 2007 issue of Poets & Writers Magazine, I noted the continued popularity of MFA programs in creative writing; however, PSU’s program was no longer alone in this younger upstart field.  It is one of a handful of programs offered nationwide.   

 

PSU’s Ooligan Press is an idea whose time has come.  In fact, it’s long overdue.  It’s no surprise that it’s an extremely popular program.  With graduate programs adding more literary authors to the marketplace than there are publishers for their work, how can the economy for creatives sustain this ‘growth industry?’  Graduates of MFA programs compete for college level teaching positions that afford them both income and a comfortable base from which to write.  But whether or not this is the intent of MFA graduates is less the issue than the number of positions that exist to accommodate them.  Ultimately the question becomes how writers can support themselves in writing-related areas.       

 

Portland is user-friendly for writers and Oregon is home to many fine authors.  For me personally, there’s an inclusionary feel to the writing community.  It isn’t necessary to have an MFA to write, be the recipient of grants, residencies and awards, teach workshops and get published in Oregon.  The zine scene has fertile ground in which to grow, side by side with traditional, contemporary and experimental forms.  And now Ooligan Press takes its rightful place as an integral part of Oregon’s riches.

 

It’s my pleasure to introduce Dennis Stovall.  

 

 

 

“I’m a 4th generation Oregonian with one foot in Portland’s immigrant Jewish community of the late 1800s and the other in last wave of WASP pioneers from the Midwest to settle in the Willamette Valley after the Civil War.  On the Jewish side, the men were Torah-literate.  On the Anglo-Saxon side, they seem to have been readers and writers at least since arriving in Virginia in 1681.  Lots of teachers in recent generations, and always a veneration of books.

 

“I grew up in The Dalles and was graduated from Wahtonka HS in 1964.  In 1968, I took a BA (Honors College) in political science from the UofO before setting off on more than a decade of labor organizing, during which time I worked as a sandhog (tunnel builder), high scaler, bus driver, truck driver, miner, construction laborer, paper-maker, crane operator, heavy equipment operator, and in a host of related jobs.

 

“In the late 1970s, I turned to freelance writing and made my living doing that until Linny and I started publishing in 1983—first as Media Weavers, known for Writer’s Northwest Handbook and the quarterly tab Writer’s NW, and later as Blue Heron Publishing, producing books on writing and the teaching of writing, literature for young adults, and adult literary fiction and nonfiction.

 

“From 1984 to the present, I have been presented several hundred times (locally, regionally, nationally, and internationally) on aspects writing, publishing and teaching to organizations and institutions including the National Council of Teachers of English, Pacific NW Writers Conference, Spokane Young Writers Conference, University of Washington, Oregon Council of Teachers of English, Northwest Association of Book Publishers, Oregon Library Association, Lewis & Clark College, Reed College, Pacific Lutheran University, Boise State University, and more.  Plus, I’ve toured widely in the Northwest on behalf of the several state arts agencies, providing workshops on freelance writing, small press publishing, and writing community and family histories.

 

“Since July 2001, I have been an Assistant Professor of English and Coordinator of the Publishing Curriculum at PSU, developing a unique graduate program in book publishing.

 

Ooligan Press and the publishing concentration of the Master’s in Writing at PSU were inspired by elementary school students and teachers.  I suppose that means I think of publishing and writing as elementary.  I was sifting old papers recently and came across documentation of about a dozen workshops with teachers in 1987.  I’m not sure when I started beating the drum for the value of publishing as curriculum, but it was probably not long before.  The ideas and the possibilities really grabbed me and never let go.

 

“It wasn’t the thing itself—publishing—at least not alone; publishing in the classroom resonated with some important bits of my own childhood. Since high school, I’ve thought we discourage students from looking toward the world of words and books for their livelihoods—for constant meaning in their lives.  The opportunities in high school are too often few, rarely well funded, and generally elitist.  The same clique of young literati produce the student lit mag and often the newspaper.  Now and then, an artist or photographer gets a shot, but it’s almost as if the rest of the kids have no stories to tell.  Though I’d jumped class, in a way, with the crowd I hung out with, I understood it as class and race issues.

 

“That was one thing. Another was the lack of encouragement for writing beyond the avocation for traditional journalism.  I don’t fault my teachers, most of whom were excellent, for not knowing the full range of ways to make a decent living with words.  I had to demystify it for myself—long after I was out in the world.

 

“Linny and I started in publishing with Media Weavers in 1983. Our principal publications in the early years were the biennial Writer’s Northwest Handbook and the quarterly tabloid Writer’s NW. We conceived of them together as “serving the broad community of the printed word” in Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, Idaho, and Montana. By that broad community we meant: writers of every kind, publishers of every kind, librarians, booksellers, book artists, designers, illustrators, binders, printers, and teachers of writing, English, and journalism.  We wanted that larger whole to share a self-consciousness of place, if not of literary or other dedication.  If readership is any indication of how many that includes in our neck of the woods, when we sold that whole project and the name Media Weavers, the quarterly enjoyed a readership of around 75,000 (and the Handbook was an official resource of the Center for the Book in the Library of Congress).           

 

“Almost immediately, we were in deep conversations with teachers, who were always anxious to get our feedback on their projects to encourage writing.  Often, at lower grades, these resulted in the lovely handmade, one-off books that we too made and took home to our parents and that many of us have since been given by our kids.  At that level, it’s still pretty democratic, but you can already see some kids excelling with the words in various ways while others lay down illustrations or cover art that kicks butt, and still others prove facile and helping these others to organize the whole, while someone else takes binding to a new a new place.

 

“But these several other skills are rarely fostered in the way that writing is, and only a select few our bound to rise to the top.  The intimate connection with the book in all its facets is lost.  And too many who might value the book differently are alienated from the process, which is much more than just the words.  I started speaking to this with teachers as often as I could, hoping to both inspire some of them and to find any who were already extending the publishing metaphor.

 

“When Linny and I conceived of the book “Classroom Publishing: A Practical Guide to Enhancing Student Literacy” (Laurie King & Dennis Stovall, Blue Heron Publishing, 1992)—back at the end of the ‘80s—we were responding to a need, but we were ourselves inspired by my experiences providing workshops on publishing to elementary and high school teachers.

 

Speaking and researching nationally revealed wonderfully innovative educational uses of the publishing process in math, science, art, and social science, as well as the expected examples in language arts.  From juvenile offenders behind bars who publish calendars of the art and prose in Texas to Alaskan 8th-graders for whom publishing is the entire curriculum.  Teachers with competing pedagogical approaches had found ways to keep most of their students active in the world of books, words, and ideas.  Publishing was the common denominator.

 

“I was thoroughly into publishing.  It was clear to me that the division of labor that’s necessary to the process could be used to engage students who would traditionally have been marginalized.  Why not have those who don’t write as well, but who can sell the hell out of a publication, play a serious role and feel like they own the work, too.  They’re as necessary as any of us if our texts are to reach their audiences.

 

            “When I proposed to PSU that they create a teaching press and publishing program, it was that early work that provided my foundation.  I figured that if it worked well with 1st graders, it would work with grad students.  And it has.

 

            “However, I’ve taken it farther here.  The program around Ooligan emphasizes obtaining a generalist’s understanding of publishing before refining particular skills.  Even though not every student will excel—or be expected to—in a particular area, all are required to take classes in everything.  As a result, when they go into the work world, they’re finding that their broader understanding makes them more employable in their specialties.  As you probably know, the traditional way into publishing is through internships, which usually means someone enters through the editorial or marketing or design door and that’s where they stay.

 

“I want my students to be able to start and run their own houses, knowing their own strengths and knowing how to evaluate and acquire the skills they don’t have.  A few will remain generalists/publishers.  Some will become freelancers in areas.  Others will work in existing small and mid-size presses where being able to wear more than one hat will be important.

 

            “There are surprisingly few other graduate programs in publishing.  It’s great if you live in New York or Boston or want to go to school there. For those particularly interested in the big publishing companies, these are excellent avenues into the industry.  There are a few summer institutes, i.e., Denver and Stanford, but those are abbreviate, expensive curricula.  Publishing professionals are the faculty, as they are for us.  Many scholarly presses provide a few internships/mentorships in publishing on both undergrad and grad levels.  But as far as we know, nobody else completely integrates a graduate curriculum in publishing with a commercial, trade publishing house that’s almost entirely by the students.

 

“I expect more will appear.  Despite dire predictions about the demise of reading, we’re seeing a renaissance in publishing via new media and old.  There may not be room for everyone to work at Random House, but there’s plenty of room for them in the thousands of mid- and small-size publishers. 

 

“I also expect our model will become attractive to administrators, since it can support itself after start-up.  Conceivably, it could support other writing and literary initiatives.

 

The program is in its 7th year.  We began with a class of eight and now have eighty enrolled. Over forty have gotten the degree.  They’ve used it in myriad ways. Here are some: at least six have started publishing companies, two have built a literary agency, perhaps ten are working for publishers as book marketers, several are full-time staff editors, several have started successful editorial service bureaus, several have created design firms, a few are providing writing services and consulting on publishing, a few have gone on to doctoral studies in related fields.

 

“Students come into the program mostly from backgrounds in writing, English, and journalism.  Graphic artists are the next bunch.  We’re gradually expanding the acceptable undergraduate studies, since publishing is done in every realm of inquiry and for every conceivable reason.  80% are women, which is pretty reflective of the industry.  The students are predominantly white.  Ages range from twenty-two to seventy-two.  At first, a majority were returning adults. Lately, most of those applying are coming directly from undergraduate work.  So, the median age has been dropping.  It was probably thirty-five a couple of years ago and is closer to twenty-five today.

 

“About one third are writers who want to demystify the publishing process in the interest of eventually selling their own work and who meanwhile want to pick up some marketable skills that will support them in the world of words without resorting to making coffee drinks or waiting tables.  Another third enter intent on starting publishing companies.  Most of the last third want employment in publishing.  Then there are a few teachers and librarians who are rounding out their educations.

 

“A majority of students think of publishing rather narrowly when they enter the program. Editing is the thing, but few even realize the variety talents, skills, and careers possible in that broad field.  Fewer still have lured by design or marketing. Bookselling has meaning only as a part-time job.  The nature of the program quickly overcomes narrow conceptions.

 

“The generalist’s approach to the subject is certainly an attraction.  Most programs train people for employment rather than the possibility of ownership.  I think the program’s popularity is partly driven by its organization.  The theoretical and practical are merged so completely, and the initiatives and opinions of the students are so highly prized, that the word has gotten around that this is a graduate experience like no other.  Regular school terms and class schedules frequently mean nothing to the Ooligan students.  If there’s work to be done, they make sure it gets done, whether everyone else at the school is on vacation or not.

 

            “The nature of the publishing is collaborative, but we’ve raised collaboration to new heights.  We publish four to six new titles per year.  Each has its own schedule and its own needs.  Our staff is always in flux.  So, through trial and error and correction and so forth, we’ve evolved expectations for how individuals will function in the workgroups that mirror the divisions of labor, and how we will maintain institutional memory in the work we do by building in redundancy on top of a critical mass of students always available to the press.

 

“From the program’s beginning, we’ve planned for it to support itself.  Because of the crisis in higher education funding in Oregon, this had to happen sooner than expected—like almost immediately.  In response, we’ve engaged students in fundraising—an excellent skill for anyone who might work in nonprofit publishing.  And, with the help from community supporters, we’ve started Friends of Ooligan Press (FOOP) to help raise funds to sustain and grow the program, which has plenty of room for further development.

 

            “This year we will come close to covering both regular expenses and the costs of new books out of revenues from sales of previously published ones.  We have great books and we now have excellent distribution for them in North America through Graphic Arts Center Publishing.  We are getting much better at marketing and sales, which has been the weakest part of the program to date.

 

“I should mention that our faculty is quite experienced.  They’re not only dedicated professionals on their day jobs, but they take this program quite seriously and make it possible with their awesome contributions.

 

            “Now, this is not something that happens every month, but it is happening more often.  In November, the students of Ooligan Press published two books, organized books launches for both, organized an all-day open house for the press, organized a fundraising breakfast for the press, hosted a high school English class for a workshop on publishing, sent five Ooligonians to the National Council of Teachers of English convention in NYC to market our books and to do research and make contacts for a completely new edition of “Classroom Publishing” that will be entirely written, edited, designed, and published by students from the classroom.  It ought to be the ultimate book on the subject.

 

            “We’re in a period of such astonishing change in the ways we produce books.  As new technologies alter both how we write and how we publish, it remains critical that we continually reinvigorate our literary culture with inspired new writers and book people--and all the others who make books, etc. possible.  I think this is made even more important by the fact that bookselling has become dominated by the lowest-common-denominator mentality of the superstores.  That affects what publishers of all sizes and types choose to publish because it limits what will sell.  If we can encourage a new generation of publishers prepared to challenge this homogenization of culture, perhaps we can keep the edges wild and exciting, which should keep the center alive and well.

 

            “New media have democratized access to audience.  On the face of it, that’s a good thing, but it creates a whole new set of problems and questions about how we verify and filter—both traditional roles of publishers.  New media are also changing the ways we write and read. There will be no end to the debates about the suitability of the new forms, but that won’t stop them.  And the smaller publishers, whether laying ink on paper or electrons on screens, will still be the ones who fight for their voices on the edges and bring new ones to the center.

 

            Writers will continue to have the troubles writers have always had making a living from art.  Craft, however, can support them while they pursue their literary dreams.  And publishing is part of the craft.”

 

 

 

Please visit the Ooligan Press website, www.ooliganpress.pdx.edu. 

 

The Writing Life: wishes you good health and good writing for the New Year.