Month: March 2013

Judith Cair’s ‘The Ship’s Eye’ and other new reading matter

Poetry Review & The Ships Eye

Judith Cair launched her debut pamphlet ‘The Ship’s Eye’ on Thursday evening in Brighton and the event was a sell-out, or rather a sell-over, as about a dozen people had to stand the whole evening. (Great for publisher/event organiser Pighog in a way. But I know from experience that packed events usually mean the next one is less than packed as people think ‘well if I’m not going to get a seat…’ especially as Pighog are now streaming their events live. Nice idea but if people choose to watch on the web then that’s £5 loss per person. Just sayin!!)

Anyway, more importantly, Judith’s pamphlet … she had said she was nervous about reading but you wouldn’t know. Her strong, calm delivery was a joy, and the way she started with all her thank yous, meticulously naming everyone, was testimony to her generous nature and thoughtfulness. Judith is a super-supportive workshop member and writes wonderfully. I’ve not yet read the whole pamphlet through closely but already I have several favourites, such as the moving simplicity of Cineribus Veris Patris Mei Dedicatum – I was slightly put off by the title but my schoolgirl Latin tells me it means something like ‘dedicated to the true ashes of my father’ (apologies if this is wrong!) the pamphlet includes many classical references/themes and indeed 3 poems are Judtith’s translations of passages from Homer’s Odyssey. Definitely a pamphlet I will be going back to.

Also through the door in the last couple of days – the latest edition of Frogmore Papers, and the big fat package from the Poetry Society with Poetry Review, Poetry News and various other bits, including a fascinating little anthology of the Foyle Young Poets – tomorrow’s stars? – you can read the whole thing online here.

Speaking of Poetry Review – I was excited to see how well Brighton poets are represented in this edition – not only John McCullough and Maria Jastrzebska but also Marion Tracy. Maria and Marion are both members of the Mimi Khalvati workshopping group I joined last year here in Lewes, and Marion’s excellent first pamphlet Giant in the Doorway (HappenStance) was published last year.

Lots of lovely reading matter to get stuck into when I’m on holiday next week.

New poem on Ink, Sweat & Tears

Clunch

Very nice of Helen Ivory to take ‘Left’, for Ink, Sweat & Tears. It’s the closest thing to a love poem I’ve written, I think. Whether it was appreciated as such (by the person it’s about) it’s hard to say! It’s a poem I workshopped at our regular Mimi Khalvati group here in Lewes. I seem to recall Mimi describing it as ‘bonkers’ – tee hee.

Here’s the audio if you’d like to hear it:

Notes from a workshop

workshop notes

Last week I was lacking inspiration, part due to work commitments and then a 3-day headache – ugh – so it was a pleasure to once more find myself in the interesting ambience of the Lewes Bus Station building for another workshop with Mimi Khalvati and the group of serious poets I seem to have inveigled myself into. (Can one ‘inveigle oneself?’ Hmm).

Sometimes in these situations I have a feeling of ‘this is not real’. I suppose it’s the usual ‘I’m an imposter and any minute now I’m going to be found out’ anxiety that I gather many women (especially) suffer from. A bit like jobs I’ve had in the past when I’ve sat in meetings and had the distinct sensation of acting like I know why I’m there, like I know what’s going on and my presence is making a difference. It’s not exactly the fear of being unmasked, like that scene in ‘Working Girl’ when Melanie Griffith is accused of being a fake and leaves the boardroom saying ‘sorry! sorry!’ It is something like that. But it also feels like I’m in a play, or someone else’s dream. There’s something fragile about the situation, grounded in nothing much. It’s like meeting a childhood hero in your kitchen or office. The strange mix of something that’s at once real and unreal. The feeling that it might be you who’s actually experiencing this or it might be something you’re dreaming or watching happen to someone else. And then wondering if there’s any difference.

Anyway, sorry for the cod-philosophical moment there – back to business – it’s very odd how sometimes in workshops there emerges a kind of theme. I remember a previous session where there were a lot of poems about water. And another where houses featured prominently. This week, dreams and fairytales came up quite a few times.

So in no particular order, here were some of Mimi’s general observations/comments that I made a note of … hope they’re of use /interesting.

  • When you have what’s basically a list poem, how will you meld together the various items on the list? If you use the same construction for each (eg active verb phrases like He puts out …. she ties togetherthey wait.. etc) it can get wearing. What’s the mortar that will tie the ‘bricks’ of the poem together? Maybe think about rhythm more, or bring in other tenses, sentence constructions?
  • We’re often told to avoid poeticisms, and yet one that sometimes slips through is a noun phrase that starts “what…’ as in ‘what stirred him at that moment was XYZ’ or ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. Mimi says this is a sightly archaic construction – not something we tend to say in speech – beware.
  • General point on form – the structure needs to convey a thrill, just as much as the image or emotion you’re communicating.
  • Natural speech stress is not the same as metrical stress. When writing in strict metre it can be tempting to put in the little words that you might ordinarily leave out in free verse. But you can sometimes afford to drop the extra words and still keep to the metre. (This is something I need to work on – I tend to get drawn into ‘dumty-dum’ phrases if I’m not careful.)
  • Punctuation – it’s possible to be too punctilious! If someone is a fast reader, they may lose some of the excitement/interest if they are slowed down by commas or being too deliberately led. Specifying the pauses in this way can also put a big responsibility on those phrases to ‘scintillate’.

‘Poem a day’ update, 40 days in

It’s two weeks since my last ‘poem a day’ update, and I must confess I feel like I’ve run out of steam. The last week or so has been particularly dispiriting. But I’ll keep trying up until Easter. I should have 40 poems by now, but I’ve fallen a bit short of that. I suppose there’s still a chance I might have another half a dozen before the deadline.

Although I said I wouldn’t put myself under any pressure to rework poems or send any off, I have found myself doing a bit of that on days when new material just wasn’t forthcoming.

So here’s the tally so far:

25 complete

3 started

1 in plan form only

Of the 25 first drafts, I’ve worked up 5 and was pleased enough with them to send them out. So plenty of other material still to play with.

I think it’s been a really good discipline for me. After Easter although I will try to write something each day I won’t get despondent if I don’t manage it, and I’ll allow myself to work on existing poems even if I haven’t written anything new that day.

From the Poetry Archive: Thom Gunn

Thom Gunn

I’m having a very self-indulgent morning. I was hoping to listen to an episode or two of ‘Poetry Please‘ but for some reason all the episodes from 2012 -2013 listed at the BBC iplayer site are ‘not currently available’.  So then I moved onto the Poetry Archive for inspiration.  I’m sorry to say I was a little bit disappointed with the Elizabeth Bishop recordings. Much as I love her work I wasn’t grabbed by her delivery of the few (quite long) poems on offer here. Perhaps I ought to learn some stamina.

But Thom Gunn was another matter – I haven’t read anything by him since schooldays but I’m now motivated to seek him out, having read and listened to the two poems recorded  here – Moly, and Considering the Snail. Many things about both these poems really appeal to me, and I love his delivery in a british-american hybrid accent (I’m avoiding the rather sleazy word ‘transatlantic’.) Worth a listen.

Getting the pamphlet in order

poems for pamphlet

Although I did enter the Mslexia pamphlet competition last year I did feel a bit like I was scraping the barrel for poems. But now I’m confident I’ve got a decent number to choose from. I went through them this afternoon and started looking more closely at them to see if there are any natural orders or themes coming through, and making some decisions about which poems should follow or precede others. Exciting!

Super excited

… to actually make it onto a prizewinners list (The New Writer Poetry Prize 2012). The poem in question was one that had been through eight drafts over several months, and I’d workshopped it with two different groups. The content and form changed considerably as I yo-yo-ed back and forth. I’m quite keen to do a little case study on this, show how it started out, what changed and why and the feedback along the way. But I can’t do that until after it’s been published in July. So that’s for later. In the meantime thank you so much for all the lovely congrats on twitter and email.

Of course, I have pledged to treat both imposters just the same (success and failure) and so I’m reminded that being selected is as much about the personal taste of the judges*, the competition you’re up against, whether there’s an R in the month, etc. On that subject, I enjoyed this very nice post by Rachael Dunlop about how losing is not the same as failing.

So, onward! Also announced this week was the result of the Poetry Business 2012 Book & Pamphlet Competition – now that’s a shortlist I need to set my sights on! Great to see one of the 1st stage winners is Emma Danes, I’ve been following her progress and enjoying her poetry for a while. Nice one, Emma.

*I realise that may have sounded a bit rude – of course I’m extremely flattered to have won, and proud that the judge was Pascale Petit 

An acceptance, a talk and workshop news

Pleasant Stores

I haven’t had a poem accepted for a while so it was very nice to hear from Jeremy Page at The Frogmore Papers to say he’d like to take one for issue 82 in the autumn. Hurrah!

(I also had some other good news last week but more about that shortly.)

And now I’d like your thoughts please on a slightly sticky situation. I’m still rather on tenterhooks with Agenda, after a four month wait I thought I would email again to ask very gently if my poems were still being considered (it does say on the website to expect a 12-week wait, and subscribers -of which I am one- are allegedly given some priority in being dealt with, so I didn’t think it unreasonable to ask.) But would you believe it, apparently my (email) submission was never received, but editor Patricia McCarthy was apologetic and invited me to resubmit, which I did, asking for acknowledgement that they had been received. But I’ve heard nothing.

So here’s the issue:  do I assume my emails aren’t getting through, and just submit the poems elsewhere? (Email is now the only way to submit to Agenda.) Or do I wait, and for how long? I don’t really want to put these poems away for another 4 months. But I don’t want to put myself in the editor’s bad books by having to tell her the poems have gone elsewhere, if she does want them. I also don’t want to pester her with emails saying ‘can you please tell me you’ve got them’ or whatever. It’s a good magazine and I’ve had work in there before, so I don’t want to give up lightly.

Lordy! The etiquette of submissions. And is it very common for poems to go astray? It seems to have happened to me an inordinate number of times.

Meanwhile on the workshop front I enjoyed hosting Colin Bell’s poetry evening in Pleasant Stores round the corner from me in Lewes, although only 2 people turned up. So with Sara the cafe owner that made four of us. It’s not a workshopping group, but people are invited to bring either their own poetry or someone else’s. I took along a selection of mags and books and read poems by Lewes poet Janet Sutherland which everyone liked, and a couple from Sam Rivere’s 81 Austeries, which I love but I think they were a bit too challenging for those present. (Read the review by Ruth Padel in the Guardian.)

Then yesterday I was at Brighton Library giving a short talk for writers about ‘Building your social web presence’. It was part of  New Writing South‘s Publishing Industry Day which was well attended and I sat in on a couple of the other sessions, including one on Arts Council funding which was very interesting. I think I managed to sell a few tickets for the workshops I’m doing there next month and into May, so that’s good.

Every Stanza meeting is different

Poets' Pub

I turned up to yesterday’s Brighton Poetry Stanza meeting with pretty much a clean sheet regarding how we’d spend the time. Although it was scheduled as a poetry reading and/or workshopping group, everyone was actually wanting to workshop their own poems. So pretty straightforward, and virtually no facilitation required from me at all. Except it had to be one of the more unusual meetings I’ve been to.

First of all there were more men and than women (7:2) – almost unheard of. It was quite a lively and outspoken group (again, slightly unusual – perhaps we were missing the calming influence of Jo or Miriam, our regular facilitators?)

The poems presented were an eclectic mix, including one on a religious theme to accompany an art exhibition and three performance pieces. One poet handed round a series of short zen-like poems handwritten on cards, and we each read ‘ours’, unexpected and quite moving. There was a discussion about the spelling of licorice/liquorish and some heated argument about whether poems written to be read (off the page) and poems written for performance are different, and whether it actually matters what ‘performance’ pieces look like on the page.

As Antony and I ran to catch the train we couldn’t help agreeing that each Stanza meeting is different. On the train, we were discussing various things including the poetry of Ian Duhig and a woman across the aisle reached over and offered Antony a book – “I’m sorry to interrupt but I couldn’t help overhearing what you were talking about and I think you’d find this really interesting” she said. “Good News for a couple of lost souls?” was my first thought but no, it was ‘Be Glad You’re Neurotic’.

Antony was somewhat nonplussed but handled the whole thing very gallantly, including calling the young lady back after she had rushed for the door and left her bag behind. I confess I got the giggles and struggled to hold it together all the way home. You couldn’t make it up, as they say.

(Image: Poets’ Pub by Alexander Moffat, 1980)