Actually, I wrote of book of TV poetry called TV Poetry twice.
The first time, I pitched it, sold it and wrote it for TV Books, an imprint of HarperCollins.*
Then TV Books folded. (Or so I was told. For all I know, word of the company’s demise was an elaborate ruse designed to get out of having to publish my TV poems. In which case, I understand. No hard feelings.)
Years passed. Despotic regimes failed. Then, one day, I was in TV poetry-writing mood again. I thought of my long-lost TV Poetry manuscript, and decided to revive it via an all-new digital edition.
And so I did.
To be honest, I had no intention of creating an “all-new digital edition.” I planned to publish the all-old TV Poetry manuscript. But once I read the all-old version, I scrapped all but a few poems, and began anew. The old poems were jokey, and, worse, insincere. The new collection, I hope, is one Linus Van Pelt would appreciate; the new collection, I hope, is a sincere pumpkin patch.
The revised collection features 50 poems.** The poems are about TV. They’re also about growing up, growing older, what Netflix streaming does to the brain and why the 1969 Bob Hope Christmas Special might have been the most subversive program in primetime history.
Also, truth be told, some of the poems aren’t about much of anything at all. But at least I’m sincere enough to admit that.
Thus concludes the exciting story behind the all-new version of TV Poetry.
*I thought TV Books was an imprint of HarperCollins (and that’s what I wrote in the introduction to my book), but I might have thought wrong. Or at least not remembered very well. TV Books, per this account of its history, was purchased in the late 1990s by Lorne Michaels‘ Broadway Video, with HarperCollins agreeing to distribute its books. So does that mean it, TV Books, was an actual imprint of HarperCollins? I confess I do not know.
**There are actually 53 poems, but I say 50 because, as I note in the text, “more than 50” sounds like I’m trying to sell a bag of Chips Ahoy!