The reason I wanted to work with Trey was because I rarely saw his face looking above a notebook. There are plenty of prospective writers with great ideas awaiting the perfect opportunity, but it seemed like Trey was making an opportunity of everywhere he went. Whether it was outside of the campus library between classes or in the middle of a guest speaker's presentation (which he, somehow, did appear to pay attention to, as later conversations proved), he made his notebook an extension of his body. A fifth limb, tattooed with his poetry. I had read a few of his verses that he had printed out. It was at an open mic night that I knew he wasn't just persistent, but had real potential. Due to work, Trey couldn't make the event, which he attended regularly. As someone who flounders in such semi-pro literary events, I was there by obligation of a class. I offered to read a few of his poems, since he couldn't make it, and had a friend (fellow Odyssey writer, Derrick Watson) film the reading for him. It was “Meditation in G Minor” that convinced me this was my guy, the person I'd want to work with on the first book for my indie publishing house, Ivory Tower. He had found the balance between high and low art, formality and conversationalist, originality and inspiration.
When I asked if he ever thought about writing a book, he said sure, as though it was the same as trying out a new restaurant. What he neglected to tell me, was how efficient he is at producing content. I was against the idea of a chapbook, because I feel that it's insulting to ask the reader to pay more in dollars than there are pages. I wanted something that will take at least one night's worth of reading to finish, and Trey proved more than capable. We aimed for roughly one hundred pages, and I'd estimate that he had (at least) one hundred pages' worth of poetry in less than two months (this is during a period in which he was both working a job and in college). His interest wasn't in vanity or monetary gain, but the quality of the work itself. There was occasional miscommunication or confusion, mostly due to my inexperience with the craft of poetry, and his greatest concern was with organizing the best book he could. Everything, from the cover (which is a photo he took and formatted to his specifications) to the table of contents was of his creation. He didn't make it easy on himself, but he wasn't afraid to stand up for what he thought was worth preserving. I tried to view myself in the role of an album's producer, and he taught me that sometimes you have to let the musicians express their own voice, which may not always be what you would say or how you might say it.
Although I was excited to work with Trey, I was more excited about the idea of not publishing him. My goal was to support him in drafting works that would not need to be published through my label or self-released. He remained chaste to our partnership, despite the potential to keep it open. I think he could have submitted many of these poems for publication in magazines, anthologies, or other venues, but he chose against the money in order to make this book what it is. Unlike many of his contemporaries, Trey is not looking for fame or a quick buck on the side. It's very possible that these virtues will hold him back from some of the gains indie lit beggars scrounge up, but I think that it opens the door for true art to occur. I won't make an advertisement of this tribute by asking readers to buy his book (out September 28) or to Like his Facebook page, but I will close in saying that he deserves those things as much as anyone.
