No Tell Motel

Usually I spend some time searching around before I immediately decide on a book to read, or in this case, a journal to critique. Even so, the link to online journal “No Tell Motel” -- http://www.notellmotel.org/ -- was the first was the very first on which I clicked, and I knew immediately it was the one I wanted to consider. According to the description provided about the journal, two housewives actually started “No Tell Motel” – a phenomenon I would argue isn’t very common. When most people think of artists and or poets, they think about people doing and recording extraordinary things: climbing Mount Everest, taking a road trip across the country, traveling the world in 60 days, etc. That being said, I think it’s awesome that two “average” women have decided they have something to say about the every-day lives from which they source passion.

One of the journal’s editors, Red Livingston, provides a biography that says when she’s not writing she enjoys practicing Pilates and taking care of her son. The second editor, Molly Arden, does research on erotic literature. Neither individuals claim to be extraordinary, in fact, they seem to claim the contrary, and it is this, I think, that contributes to the honesty inherent in their magazine, and the honest power the poems in it seem to hold. Although I’m not sure how experienced the two editors of “No Tell Motel” are in terms of writing, the possibility of their inexperience makes the journal even more appealing to me. Both Livingston and Arden have been published in other literary venues. Livingston, for instance, is the author of the book Your Ten Favorite Words. She also co-authored a book called Wanton Textiles. In addition, both she and Arden have contributed to “FU: An Anthology of Fuck You Poems.” Even so, however, their publications do not seem particular robust, and one is lead to believe that t hey have done a lot of self-publishing. This possibility, again, however, simply strikes me as more appealing; I love how these editors both believe they have something important to share with the public, regardless of whether or not their thoughts would be deemed so by the majority of the publishing world.

The work featured within “No Tell Motel” is mostly poetry. According to their submission guidelines, the editors accept poems of any format and style, which explains the broad range of different writing techniques present on the site. In addition, the magazine accepts submissions from any age group and about any topic. These facts testify to the playful nature the journal seems to promote. Both Livingston and Arden appear to make a real effort not take themselves so seriously that attention is taken away from their work. In other words, they aim to make the emotions conveyed in their poetry center stage, as opposed to any elite heirs they could carry. This is further emphasized by the aesthetic of the journal. The homepage is very colorful, featuring a bright pink background. Also, in clear sight at the top of the page is a black silhouetted woman holding a martini glass. This leads me to believe that the editors seek submissions by authors who have a sense of humor, yet still take their work seriously enough to follow the clear and strict submission guidelines they provide.

One of the aspects of “No Tell Hotel” I most enjoyed is its tendency to publish works that are actually part of a larger series of poems. “A History of Drowning, 1”, by Carrie Olivia Adams, for example, is part of a series of five poems – each with the same title, except the number that follows it. As might be expected, although each of these poems can stand alone, they obtain new meaning when one reads each of them and observes what they add to each other.

I believe repetition can be a powerful tool within poetry, as when a reader hears a similar line for the second time it often has a completely different effect than the first. “A History of Drowning, 1” proves this point perfectly. The very first line of the work is: “This is the moment before the sweep of shadow” -- extremely similar to the poem’s fifth line, “This is before you have forgotten which way is east.” I believe that this method of repetition causes the poem to be read as though the writer is telling her subject something – something that perhaps this muse did not initially realize about herself. In this way, as readers, we simply become the listeners who are left to take the poet’s advice. This is a tone that is continued throughout the series. Other series of poems within the journal include: “The way birds become homonyms: an aviary,” “The Adventures of a Beauty Girl,” and “Notes About His Hands,” all of which establish their tones in similar ways.

Critiquing “No Tell Motel” has inspired me to write a series of poems myself, as I have actually never before attempted such a feat. I would actually really like to try submitting a group of five or so poems to this journal. I obviously don’t have a lot of experience in writing or publication, but this journal seems the kind to understand what it is to start out with limited experience. Also, for all of the reasons I mentioned above, it seems to value every-day situations and emotions as worthwhile endeavors to explore, which at my age and place, are those which I am most prepared to record on paper. We’ll see, I suppose!