Review of Mike Palecek’s Johnny Moon

Mixing absurdist flights of fancy with poignant memories of a time that was never as innocent as we pretend, Mike Palecek has crafted a free-wheeling novel of the adventures of Johnny Moon, a young Catholic boy who strives to live up to the idealistic credo of his hero President John F. Kennedy: “A strong boy makes a strong man makes a strong nation.” A chubby, pants-wetting target for bullies and strict authority figures, Johnny chants this mantra while walking to school to lose weight, struggling to complete a push-up or stoically coping with everything from icy puddles to attacking S.W.A.T. teams.
When his hero is suddenly gone, Johnny finds himself the unlikely leader of a league of truth-seekers made up of classmates, nuns (who just might really be space aliens), and the coach and janitor (who just might believe that the school boiler is a time-travel machine – and they just might be right). Through darkly hilarious twists and turns, intriguing mysteries and downright oddball WTFs, Palecek leads us into the JFK conspiracy, anti-communist paranoia, and the myriad eccentricities of Church and State. And, as in all of the writings of this Dali-Vonnegut-Chomsky conglomeration of a novelist/activist, the path by which he leads us is unlike anything we could imagine.
But beyond the surrealistic wildness that always marks a Palecek romp, what’s truly best in this novel is its profound empathy. We fall for Johnny Moon because we are Johnny Moon. Palecek remembers details of our childhood that we’ve long forgotten, and when we see (and feel, taste and smell) these minutiae of adolescence being lived by Johnny Moon we wonder how he was able to get into our heads and hearts unnoticed. In this most-enjoyable of his novels to date, Palecek shows himself to be a skilled cartographer of our collective dreams, fears and memories.
And if you don’t remember what you were doing when you heard Kennedy was shot, don’t worry; read this book, and you’ll always remember exactly what Johnny Moon was doing.
~by Marc Beaudin
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Notes from Forest House, SLC

A fantastic reading at Ken Sanders Rare Books down in Salt Lake. A delicious audience ranging from stoic cowboys to pierced ruffians, from desert rats to yoga-heads. “This Poem” seemed to be the crowd favorite with many asking if it was published anywhere. … I can’t imagine a typical poetry journal ever wanting it, and am not sure if I would include it in a book; however, it definitely will be on the CD I’m hoping to record soon.

After the gig, back to Ken’s fantastic Forest House, a magical ship rising above the ocean of steel, brick and glass of SLC, riding the crest of the Wasatch Fault. Delightful violations of Morman Law in cold brown bottles. Tripping over stacks of great books and an endless feast of artwork on every wall.

In the morning, with strong coffee and a wide-eyed window. Watching clouds peeling away from the mountain slopes like burnt skin. leaving scars of luxury homes and radio towers. A brooding darkness pouring in from over the lake, swallowing the buildings of downtown one by one. A goshawk takes refuge in the backyard, silencing all other birds.

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Ten More Tips for Getting Your Poetry Published

Read the First 10 Tips Here.

11.
If you have a submission that is pending a response from a journal, don’t send more pieces until you receive a reply. If the stated response time has passed (for Poets’ Basement this is one month), it’s appropriate to send a polite note to inquire as to its status. As far as stated response times, give them some leeway: they may be swamped with more submissions than usual or your poems may be “on deck” for a later publication. But if it’s been a month or two after what’s listed, by all means send a query. If you don’t hear back from them after this, I would write them off as being unprofessional jerks and send my work elsewhere (but still send a still polite note letting them know you’re pulling your work from their consideration).

12.
Don’t send me your first draft. Don’t send me your second draft. Or your third, fourth, or fifth. Send me your final draft.

13.
Separate revision from editing. Editing is technical: proofread; make specific and meaningful decisions about punctuation, line breaks, capitalization, tense and style; cut the superfluous; etc. But revision should be literally “Re-Visioning.” See the work again from that original mind. Return to the heart of your creative spark and make sure that every word serves that vision.

14.
Find and read Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg and Pig Notes & Dumb Music by William Heyen. Re-read them both many times.

15.
Don’t resubmit a piece to a journal that’s already rejected it, even if you think current events make the piece more timely, or you’ve made a couple of minor changes. If the editors wanted it, they would have taken it the first time. If you’ve made a complete revision you might try sending it with an explanatory note, although this may merely give the editors the idea that you should have done the revisions before asking them to consider it the first time.

16.
Make good use of rejection notices. Most editors don’t have the time to send a personal note with your rejections, but when one does, take any comments or advice to heart. They wouldn’t spend the time unless they liked your writing and you were getting close. Honestly ask yourself if their suggestions could help your poem. If the answer is “possibly” or above, go back to work. See #13.

17.
Regarding political or “agenda-driven” verse: If your poem only exists to carry your message, it most likely will fail as a poem. You may be making the most vital and revolutionary point ever made, but that doesn’t in any way excuse a bad poem. Your poem must not be merely a subservient vehicle to your message, it must stand on its own. “No ideas but in things,” said W.C. Williams. Make sure your “thing” is authentic, vibrant and compelling, and then your idea will have the impact it deserves.

18.
If your poem includes an intentional misspelling or similar choice that could easily be considered a typo, include a note specifying your intent.

19.
In his book on directing, Creating Life on Stage, Marshall Mason quotes Jeff Daniels on how he views auditions: “The way I see it, the director has a problem, and I’m there to see if I can help him solve it.” Well, poetry editors have a problem. They need to find and publish the work that best matches their publication’s artistic vision. Help them out by first asking yourself if your work fits that vision, and then by sending them (in the required format) work that is at its best.

20.
Notice in that last tip I said, “work that is at its best” rather than “your best work.” Many journals will tell you to, “send us your best work,” which always bothers me because it implies that your less-than-best poems should be sent somewhere else. It’s not a question of a poem being your best, but its best. Until a poem has been crafted, revised, meditated on, listened to, etc. to the point that you’re sincerely positive (don’t lie to yourself here) that it has reached its full authenticity and music, you shouldn’t send it anywhere.

Poets’ Basement on CounterPunch Guidelines & Call for Submissions
CounterPunch.org

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