There's no thesis here.
Harnessing TW's energy in literature
November inspires thought and possibly change. Lessons are learned from the risks taken, regardless of the result. Books are stocked and the holidays draw near. Tables and crates are put away. Questions of thankfulness and the year’s lessons come to the forefront. Now is the time to ask these important questions and note the findings. What I learned: books are a challenge for the market and the mind. A risk I took this year: vend at many public events. Now, at the closing of the year, I am thankful for a filled heart of intellect, culture, and empathy.
Energy is always present. I find it best to exert my efforts on things—and people—I care for and believe in. This energy always orbits around us and whenever you give some out, in time, it will return. The authors, contributors, masthead, and those of the larger community are the best. You, the reader, are the best. Your literacy is commendable and we embrace your good spirits. Thank You.
2025 will be the recto. We shall return to our roots in poetry. First off, a returning TW author pens a second edition of poetry and masterful prose. Then, as the thaw gives way to bloom, a debut chapbook series from a trio of poets. Followed soon into the summer, a first-ever for TW: a choose-your-own-adventure from the labyrinth of a poet’s mind. In the heat of it all, another respected voice in poetry plays a melody before your eyes. The fall initiates with the sole novella of the year. A mysterious book embarks on a meta-adventure of literary greatness. Finally, as the wintry wind wails, a debutant’s prolific poetry collection takes a city by storm.
Sadly, all good things come to an end. The hardy inkjet printer covered with indie-lit stickers—dubbed the Workhorse—is sunsetting operations after about eight years. Without this innocuous printer, the press may not have existed. It is once again another risk and a large one. The future of our chapbooks is uncertain, but we shall see one last hurrah with the Workhorse. I cannot wait to embrace the next era of chapbook printing, no matter the cost.
Printed media is crucial in a time of moments past. When I first started this press, I sold the inaugural titles for only a few bucks each. The gift economy can take these books to many places. Zine swaps, a used bookstore, someone’s attic, or even a landfill. The last option sounds morbid, but it is out of my control. What started with reader friends and family, has traversed the world to thousands of readers and hundreds of bookshelves. Not bad for a suburban kid who wanted to be a STEM major (glad I found this path.)
My mission, for all books, is to enable an escape, a different state of mind. Imagine teleporting into a field, woods, or a mountaintop. Reenter our natural world with disconnected whimsy. When you lose track of time, and the need for screen dopamine dissipates, that’s when you’ll know you’re in the right direction.
Escape the mundane with Thirty West.
