"For those to whom it matters."

2024: The Year of Jim Johnstone

Jan 08, 2025

Back cover listing 60 poets in anthology, The Anstruther Reader." — Back cover of *The Anstruther Reader* (Palimpsest Press, 2024)

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Look at this list. [Though by no means “complete”] here are sixty Canadian poets who I’ve more or less lived with, read, this past decade. Spines I lovingly caress as I walk down my hall. These names “my familiar.”

Many listed here, I can tell you a story (as I’m certain they have theirs!) either encountering them on the page or IRL. Kess rushing up the steps to knife | fork | book to share excitement over a recent poet/poem read, Angela Hibbs rocking my world at Take Cover Books, a walk through Jean Talon Market and a coffee w/Klara in Montreal, hearing the majesty of M. Travis Lane at Poetry Weekend, a burger at Allen’s with James, John Nyman’s spectacular oratories (and hair!), the signature grace of Michael Prior, smiles between T. Liem and me, Matthew Walsh busting a move in the dance studio, meeting Lily Wang at the corner of Yonge/Bloor to buy their debut during the pandemic. Bardia’s casually distinct voice, searing poems, and infectious grin. The captivating radiance of Oubah Osman (a hushed room of enrapt celebrants). Hot soup and heartfelt conversation with Tolu in Vancouver. Mahalia’s joy. Sharing tears, laughter and Radiohead on the road with Shane. Crushes. Pilot lights lit. Meeting/s for the first time. “So glad to finally hear you!”

Is this what is meant by community? The occasion to meet. Wanting to meet. Share a moment. Listen. Top off our tanks until we’re down two quarts, seek to be filled again.

What all of these poets, these names have in common (including my own) is that we’ve all had the grand good pleasure of meeting, reading and working with poet, writer, editor, essayist, publisher, community builder, JIM JOHNSTONE celebrating a decade of publishing poetry chapbooks, broadsides and manifestos at Anstruther Press along with partner, Erica Smith and this momentous anthology, The Anstruther Reader (Palimpsest Press, 2024).

Jim Johnstone & Erica Smith of Anstruther Press

Jim Johnstone. Sure, you know the guy… tall glass of water in a ball cap, Frankenstein tatt, the one who, if you’re a poet of note, most likely published you this past decade? Edited you. Came to your readings. Showed up. Bought your books.

I don’t know of anyone more serving/giving than Jim Johnstone. Or more patient, encouraging, kind. Hundreds of poets have benefitted in one way or another meeting Jim. Many debuted or have created something pretty with Anstruther. And I simply cannot imagine the Canadian Poetry landscape without him.

“I rarely admit to writing poetry when talking to people I’ve just met,” Jim smiles, “Asked what I do for a living…I sometimes default to “freelance writer,” or more often than not leave out writer altogether…The reality though, is that I cobble together a living writing, editing, publishing, and reviewing poetry—a pursuit that demands almost fanatical commitment.”

I’ve been stuck in too many conversations where I led with ‘poet’ and received blank looks to continue to introduce myself as one. - Jim Johnstone, Bait & Switch

I so completely get this (every poet does) to the point if you have to refer to yourself as a poet, begs the question. Egalitarian as it may seem, anyone and everyone can call themselves a poet, (and they do).

“So why bother with poetry?,” Johnstone posits. “My answer is that poetry is an irresistible force, a guiding principle for those to whom it matters.”

This opens Johnstone’s collection of principally essays and reviews, Bait & Switch one of the first offerings from the newly-owned and operated The Porcupine’s Quill (2024), highlighting a soul-stirring essay on his editing relationship with Tolu Oloruntoba, along with reviews of Nyla Matuk, Karen Solie, and Michael Prior to name but a few. Learning to write reviews myself, it helps to see what a good one actually looks like.

Poets Jim Johnstone & Michael Prior seated in Kirby's living room. — Jim Johnstone, seated here with Michael Prior in my living room.

1. CHAPBOOKS ARE THE IDEAL UNIT OF POETRY

Johnstone declares in his love letter to the essential, enduring quality of micropresses in Canada, Write Print Fold and Staple (Gaspereau Press, 2024).

From the book: “Fast-forward to the present and Anstruther publishes upwards of fifteen to twenty poetry titles per year while also printing broadsides and manifestos. Assembling books by hand has stuck with me, and one of the reasons I’ve been able to persist is that Anstruther titles are produced in much the same way as the books I made in elementary school—folded and stapled—only now with the aid of a printer and photocopier (and, beautiful cover/design work by Erica Smith). These are the tools of the trade…”

Of course, Jim’s being modest here (I harken back to “a pursuit that demands almost fanatical commitment”). And, I can attest. Most micropresses “disappear” after a year or two, realizing there’s little to no money (nor thanks) to the endeavour. You have to know, be clear, exactly what you’re committed to.

I’ll never forget when Jim coined the phrase, and said Kirby, “let’s do it for the poets.”

To this day.

But, make no mistake, it takes its toll. Jim & I both find ourselves at an age we have to do less, not in the quality of the book-in-hand itself, but output.

Jim & Kirby lounge smiling beside each other on divans. — Jim Johnstone and Kirby at Women’s Art Association of Canada (celebrating Molly Peacock).

Then comes this amazing dialogue [in print] between publishers and poets, Andrew Steeves, Klara du Plessis, Christopher Patton, and Johnstone (with an intro by Lisa Fishman) Fast-Vanishing Speech (that title alone) a talk given on Literary Criticism at Gaspereau Press’ Wayzgoose 2023, and, I would say, a perfectly divine chapbook.

And, even though it technically came out late 2023, I must make note here of Johnstone’s most personal collection of poetry to date, The King of Terrors (Coach House Books). The heart laid bare. Unsparring, sparse densities, the immediacy of life facing a brain tumour diagnosis. Searing “truths” made all the more urgent through the intensities, this lens of life and death.

I remember seeing Jim for the first time after surgery, his bandana only drawing more focus to the fire in his eyes and smile. His signature Black Sabbath T-shirt. We stood on his rooftop overlooking the lake. That breeze and the clouds. His arm around me.

A selfie with JIm's arm around Kirby. — Jim & Kirby on a walk in Jim’s neighbourhood.

We took a walk around his neighbourhood, him showing me the spots he likes to pay attention to. This man who walks with me. When I began to physically age, slow down since the pandemic, taking my hand, I would stop and say, “look at this!,” and yes, there was delight there, but mostly him knowing I simply needed to pause, catch my breath.

We both love breakfast, Chew Chews our favourite haunt: Jim, the four-egg benny w/peameal, me, the florentine w/a side of bacon extra-crisp. He so misses coffee (who wouldn’t?). Sometimes we talk shop, laugh over what constitutes as “drama” on social media (when Jim texts his laugh it’s BAHAHAHAHA!). Mostly, we simply encourage and love each other. Are warmer for it.

Is this what community is? Perhaps how they start or find sustenance. As poet Henri Cole knows, “you need a best friend in poetry.”

Jim & Kirby selfie on a winter's walk through U of T campus. — Jim & I on a winter stroll through campus.

I might even say good friends suffice, “touchstones,” those who challenge/inspire you only to be more you, or just someone you can be yourself with. Is there a greater gift?

So, if you haven’t thanked your publisher, or editor, or teacher/mentor, consultant, friend of late, haven’t congratulated someone on their new title/s or shared how you’ve been touched. Wished them well. These things do matter. I know they do to you, community.

Jim. What a year. Congrats my friend.