Author: Robin Houghton

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Time for some good news!

I always seem to be having a moan about submissions-constipation and other niggly stuff on here but I thought I ought to share some of the Big Positives for a change. (I was going to call this post ‘Good news for once’ after one of my favourite Brian Patten poems, ‘On time for once’, but then I decided that was typically off-hand of me and given the poem (spoiler alert!) is about someone about to hear bad news, not appropriate. Ha!

Anyway, a couple of good things recently – The Poetry Society were kind enough to send my ‘Orford Ness’ poem (that won the Stanza comp) in for the Forward Prize single poem award. Even though I know that’s a helluva long way from being shortlisted or anything as exciting as that, it’s still exciting.

Then last week I got a phone call from a gentleman who (after I identified myself) asked ‘Are you a poet?’ Now this could have been a test of some sort, or a joke, so after answering ‘yes’ I then had a moment of doubt. ‘Well I think so,’ I added, whereupon he told me I’d got 2nd prize in the Plough Poetry Competition. My first thought was confusion, because I’d written it off, given it was a few weeks past the ‘winners will be notified by…’ date. Also, I’d already re-sent a version of this poem to the Rialto Nature Poetry competition. But it turned out judge Liz Lochhead had been running late with getting the results in. It also meant I couldn’t attend the prize giving which was on Saturday night (a few days later), but a four and a half hour drive away, not having time to change existing arrangements. I then poked around on the computer to remind myself what the prize money was, to find I’d won £500 – lordy! So having to withdraw my poem from the Rialto comp wasn’t too harsh after all. Make no mistake, this money will go straight back into poetry, a good chunk of it probably into Telltale Press, speaking of which…

Telltale Press logo

Telltale Press has recruited its newest member in Siegfried Baber, and we’re in the process of getting his pamphlet typeset and designed up for a May launch in Siegfried’s home town of Bath. This is the third pamphlet we’ve published and I’m starting to get the hang of this publishing lark – I now know how and when to enter pamphlets for the quarterly Poetry Book Society choices, how and when to register the ISBN and where copies have to be sent, and our list of reviewers and potential reviewers is growing. We’re also hoping to have a presence at the Poetry Book Fair in the autumn, our next reading is coming up in Lewes with two more potential Telltale Poets reading plus the ever-supportive Martin Malone… so a lot to be thrilled about. We’re seizing the means of poetry production and are having a lot of fun! Not only this, but Siegfried’s poem ‘When Love Came to the Cartoon Kid’ (from which his pamphlet takes its title) is also a Forward Prize nomination … yay!

And finally, the lovely Jeremy Page of The Frogmore Papers has asked if I will be a co-selector with him for the autumn edition of South magazine. This will be really interesting – my first experience of being on the blunt end of poetry submissions! I’m so pleased to be asked and really looking forward to it.

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Currently reading

Currently reading March 2015

Here’s what’s on my bedside table this month vying with the Sudoku book…

The March issue of Poetry arrived the other day so I’ve only just dipped into it. A wonderful piece towards the end by Kate Farrell introducing an unfinished poem by her ex-husband Kenneth Koch written when he was in Rome in 1978. This resonates with me particularly as it was to Rome that I ran away in 1979 and I’ve strong memories of that time and place. Other stand-outs so far: three wonderful poems by Michelle Y. Burke. Here’s one: Diameter. It’s exciting to get Poetry in the post – always new names and new surprises.

Jackie Wills, Woman’s Head as Jug (Arc, 2013). Jackie is someone I’ve been aware of for a long time as she’s Brighton-based and well-known in these parts as a writer and tutor, and although I’ve only heard her read twice it was memorable. I loved the short poems I’d heard from the middle section of Woman’s Head as Jug (great title!) in a sequence called ‘Sweats’, partly with the fear of ‘oh god is this what’s to come’ but also for their precision and black humour. The book begins with a series of poems giving voice to an eclectic range of female workers, from ‘A Lone Leaping Woman’ (which we’re told is a female itinerant worker in Mediaeval England) to ‘Dorset Buttonmaker’ and possibly the poet herself in ‘Saturday Girl’.

Pippa Little, Overwintering (Carcanet 2012). I came across Pippa’s name on a competition shortlist recently and something made me look her up. On Susan Rich’s blog I found two poems from Overwintering – read them here  – which made me want to buy the collection and I’m not sorry I did. Lots to get stuck into and enjoy here.

Byron, Selected Verse & Prose Works including Letters and Extracts from Lord Byron’s Journals and Diaries (ed. Quennell, Collins 1959). I’ve never read any Byron. Although I’m a reasonable bluffer should I need to pretend I have. This book came to me via my husband’s step-daughter who was clearing her grandparents’ house and put all the poetry books into a box with my name on. There was no pressure on me to have them all, thankfully, but I gratefully took this one, as well as a Rupert Brooke Collected and a Penguin Poets first edition of Burns. I’ve actually gone straight to Byron’s journal and ‘detached thoughts’, basically the 19th century equivalent of a blog. I’m excited at the idea of learning more about his life, work and personality through these writings. This book is a little odd in that it’s been bound upside-down, which means I always try opening it the wrong way. Hmmm.

Katherine Mansfield, Selected Stories (OUP 2008). I’ve always wanted to read some Katherine Mansfield. Perhaps partly because of her being published by the Hogarth Press and her connection to the Bloomsbury group (Charleston House is very near Lewes and I’m a fan of its annual literary festival.) In my book group a few years ago we discussed reading her but it never happened, so now I’m reading it in my book group of one.

Agnieszka Studzinska, What Things Are (Eyewear, 2104). I haven’t started this yet but I’m looking forward to it. I found myself sitting next to Agnieszka (who kindly told me she goes by the name ‘Nisha’ for short) at a recent Coffee House Poetry workshop. She’s one of those beautiful, modest AND talented poets who are also down-to-earth and friendly – GRRR! – for heaven’s sake, Nisha, give the rest of us mortals a break!! The collection comes with warm blurbs from Michael Symmons Roberts, Deryn Rees-Jones and Hannah Lowe. One to watch, if you’re not already watching her.

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First experience of Coffee-House Poetry at the Troubadour

I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to get my lazy bod along to the Troubadour cafe for Anne-Marie-Fyfe’s Coffee House Poetry nights. I guess the journey was putting me off, but actually it was as sweet as a trip on Southern Rail could be. Trains on time. Changing at Clapham Junction. Two stops on the overground and a 5 minute trot past the scary-looking Brompton Cemetery. I left home at 5.30pm and was back by midnight.

The Troubadour…. what can I say? I already gave a flavour of it in a previous post. The downstairs room where the readings are held is an interesting L-shape, and tables and chairs were tightly packed in. Readers were called in groups of 6 in order to be ready to leap to the stage. A military operation, but handled with good humour, and people responded by (mostly) sticking to the rules – one poem, no more than 25 lines, little or no preamble. There must have been 60 or more readers in all, and an amazing range of poems to the theme of ‘yellow’. Most of those read were by the poets themselves, but we also heard work by Louis Macneice, Philip Devine and Frances Leviston among others.

Jan Heritage and Robin Houghton reading at the Troubadour.
Jan Heritage and I reading our poems. (Sorry for the grainy pics)

I was looked after by poet friend Jan who’s a regular, although there were several other people there I knew and it was very nice to finally meet others who I knew only by reputation, such as Mona Arshi (who I’m reading with next month at Lauderdale House, oh did I mention that already?) and Robert Peake.

The event has been going for some years now but I got no feeling of it being a clique – which has to be down to Anne-Marie’s hosting skills. She appears to know everyone’s name, (including mine, even though we’d only met once), she’s there greeting people as they come in, chatting and making introductions beforehand and in the break. Her relaxed persona rubs off on the audience, with happy results. It’s a style I’d love to emulate when I’m running events, because I’m aware I can sometimes get into the “don’t panic!” mode and the rictus grin/short temper if things aren’t going quite to plan. Must try harder!

Anne-Marie Fyfe, Stephen Bone & Robin Houghton at the Troubadour
Anne-Marie Fyfe, Stephen Bone and myself, and featuring Stephen’s yellow socks – OK, I know it’s a bit blurry, but it was dark!

If you’re a regular reader of this blog you’ll know I can get a bit irritated about event timekeeping (ahem!), but in this case, given the number of readers it was easily forgivable that it ended a teensy bit later than scheduled. Sadly I had to catch a train so missed the final few readers, the results of the Big Yellow Taxi quiz (at which I sucked big time) and the announcement of the favourite poem of the night. I was told it wasn’t always quite that busy, as the regular nights feature just a handful of headline readers. I’m already looking forward to the next one in May when the season starts up again for the summer. If you’ve ever thought of going along but haven’t yet, do so if you can, it’s well worth it.

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A clutch of Spring readings

Spring Daffs

After reading Jayne Stanton’s uplifting post about all the things she’s got to look forward to and how glad she is to see the back of February, I couldn’t help but agree – Spring is on its way and several treats are on the horizon.

Things kick off this evening at The Troubadour, where Anne-Marie Fyfe has invited me to join the readers in a yellow-themed extravaganza Big Yellow Taxi. I’m planning to read a short ‘poem starting with a first line by Emily Dickinson’ which features some of my favourite things yellow (eg Doris Day’s hair). I’m looking forward to seeing Stephen Bone there too, and I know he’s famous for taking the colour theme very seriously!

In a couple of week’s time I’m taking myself off to the lovely Arts and Crafts house Standen for a few days where I’m having a self-styled reading & writing retreat. Hurrah! Returning just in time for the launch of the Needlewriters Anthology in Lewes  on 26th March and an opportunity to read alongside my fabulous poetic cohorts Clare Best, Janet Sutherland, Charlotte Gann, Jeremy Page, Liz Bahs, Judith Kazantzis & Kay Syrad. I feel like the new girl being invited to the prefects’ table.

The next Needlewriters quarterly event is on April 9th, closely followed the next week by Telltale Poets & Friends at the Lewes Arms on Wednesday 15th April. I’m very excited about that as our headline reader will be Martin Malone, a fine poet as well as editor of The Interpreter’s House. We’ll also be showcasing two up and coming poets, Ryan Whatley and Helen Fletcher. Helen’s coming all the way from Carlisle so I hope we can get good audience and show her what a poetry-loving lot we are in Lewes.

In the back end of the month I’ll be reading at Poetry in the House, Shanta Acharya’s regular event at Lauderdale House in Highgate, on Wednesday 22nd April alongside some super poets including Mona Arshi and Richard Skinner.

And big thanks to Michaela Ridgway for inviting me to read at the long-running Pighog Poetry night in Brighton on Thursday 30th April.  Pighog Press have been taken over by US publisher Red Hen, but the Brighton poetry nights continue. The Redroaster Cafe is a super venue and the nights are well attended, so it should be great fun.

If you’re able to get to any of the above, please come and say hello!

 

Angst/

Poetry submissions – stats for last 6 months, stocktake

poetry files

Just a quick update on my poetry submissions, in case you’re interested – I know people often like a comparison, and while those “I’m delighted to announce…” successes are all very nice to hear about, sometimes it’s good be reassured that you’re not the only one who’s not currently delighted about anything.  So, I’ve just done a 6 month audit and here’s what my submissions tracker tells me:

Magazines, waiting on:
4 poems currently out for 193 days
4 poems out for 168 days
5 poems out for 113 days
3 out for 8 days

There seems to be a long gap (no poems sent out between November and February) but that’s not entirely true, as some things were sent and returned in that time. Thanks so much to Antiphon and Ambit (among others) for your prompt responses!

Since last August I’ve had 24 poems declined by 6 magazines and 2 accepted.

Competitions: I’ve entered 11 poems in six competitions, the results of which are one 1st placed poem, one shortlisted and two sunk without trace, with the 3 remaining comps still to be judged.

On the whole I think I’ve sent out less material during this period than I’ve done in the past. I don’t have a fixed strategy, you know, such as sending a poem straight back out as soon as it’s returned. I also think I’m a bit more circumspect than I used to be.

When I first starting sending poems to magazines in early 2010, I think the first few acceptances (when they came) were like a drug – I was awash with the confidence that’s easy to have when you’re new to something. Ignorance is bliss, I suppose – and as with anything, the more you learn the more you realise the extent of that ignorance, and are humbled by it. So now I tend to sit on a poem that’s been declined, maybe go back to it a few weeks or months later, fiddle with it, wonder if it would fit another publication, sit on it a bit longer.

The other day I spent the evening filing – although I keep everything on the computer I do print poems off when I send them somewhere, or read them at an event. I’ve decided to archive a huge number of poems – the ones that never lived up to my own assessment of their merit – and I’m aiming to keep the “working on / not out at the moment” pile small. Instead of endless tweaking, I’m focusing more on writing new material. I’ve basically let go of a lot of stuff. It makes it easier to  look forward rather than back, and for me at least that’s important, as is a belief that the best work is yet to come. Do you agree? Any thoughts?

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A Bridge (not) Too Far – workshop with Anne-Marie Fyfe

Today I made my first visit to the Troubadour cafe, after thinking about it for a long time – I thought I’d start by going to one of Anne-Marie Fyfe‘s Coffee House Poetry workshops, which always sound enticing. The theme was ‘bridges’, and the first irony of the day was my inability to locate Wandsworth Bridge, despite the satnav lady giving it her best shot. Thankfully I managed it second time around. I’m glad I drove – although it’s a couple of hours away from where I live, parking around the Troubadour is free and easy on a Sunday, whereas the rail service from the South coast is non-existent on Sundays, making for miserable four-hour journeys. And it was pouring with rain when I left so jumping into the car was wonderful.

Troubadour Cafe
Is that Hilda lurking behind the partition?

There’s something a tad intimidating about the Troubadour cafe – the door is solid and heavy so it’s as if you have to be ‘in the know’ to enter. The interior is, well, quirky. As I quietly ordered my cup of tea, wondering if I’d see anyone I knew, it was a relief to hear my name being called from out of the darkness by none other than the grande dame of Swindon Poetry, Hilda Sheehan. Brilliant – and when I uploaded my photos I realised I’d captured Hilda in shot without noticing – ha ha! Hilda introduced me to Anne-Marie and some of of the participants, many of whose names I knew – Angela Kirby, Dorothy Yamamoto, Jill Abram. There was a slight panic as Hilda and I rushed upstairs for the start of the workshop only to find ourselves in someone’s kitchen. Ooops! Luckily no-one appeared to ask what the hell we were doing there. All I can say is that the door to the gallery is right next to someone’s flat. You have been warned!

It was a well-run writing workshop – to time, with lots of reading material to get inspiration from and to take away to read properly later. Anne-Marie was a warm & supportive tutor with a toolbox of tricks, from guided writing exercises to a pack of bridge photos around which we were to invited to write just one line before moving onto the next. In the break we had time to polish up a poem to share, and although I didn’t come up with anything very original it served its purpose to get me thinking and writing. Lots of interesting stuff produced by others.

There were rather a lot of participants, although for once I wasn’t bothered by this. And I was lucky to find myself sitting between two lovely poets whose names rang a bell and who I’ve since looked up, to discover they are indeed both talented and accomplished writers:  Agnieszka Studzinska and Frances Galleymore. Exciting and humbling to have been in such good company. I’ll be back.

Troubadour cafe - the bar

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Nikesh Shukla at the Vanguard Readings

Great night yesterday at The Bear in Camberwell for Richard Skinner’s Vanguard Readings. It’s an excellent series, basically offering a showcase to writers at all stages of their writing journey. It means you get to hear both new and seasoned authors, and sometimes poets too.

The readings are free to attend and Richard runs a smooth show, making everyone welcome and introducing audience members to one another beforehand and during the break. It’s a real skill and the effect is that newcomers quickly feel welcome, you always meet interesting people and the event never feels cliquey. Last night, for example, it was a pleasure to meet Paul Golden, a writer of Asian historical fiction, who may soon also be a neighbour. Small world!

Nikesh ShuklaOf the readers, the headline act Nikesh Shukla stood out for many reasons – the big ol’ welcome as he boomed onto the stage, his reading and also his performance of the promotional rap he’d done for his latest book Meatspace, and the impassioned and original plea for us to buy his book. (I wish I had – but with not enough cash on me – no, really! – and with the five copies he brought being snapped up rather quickly, I missed out).

Meatspace by Nikesh Shukla

Meatspace appears to be a very funny tale of online shenanigans, identity theft, dysfunctional life in the internet age… The Guardian compares it to Douglas Coupland’s Generation X. It’s hard to believe Coupland’s classic was published in 1991, a full seven years before I made may own personal discovery of the internet and was living a highly dysfunctional life in Portland, Oregon, staying up all night to chat on ICQ and frequently falling asleep at the keyboard. (It was Coupland’s Microserfs that did it for me – or did for me, whichever way you look at it, heh.)

Anyhow, Meatspace sounds like a novel I’d definitely enjoy and if you get the chance to hear Nikesh read, please grab it, he’s great fun.

Angst/

Breaking this week (poetry and tech)

i broke it
I broke my blog and can’t fix it

The eagle-eyed reader of this blog may have noticed a few wee changes in the look of it. Yes, I’ve changed the Theme, but it all happened rather more quickly than I was expecting, and the day before I was giving a blogging workshop. So I spent four hours trying to make my broken blog look half-respectable. DUH. It’s still not quite how I want it, but that’s my fault for being so trigger-happy and always wanting to change things.

Then, the workshop was going well, until I introduced the class to Pixlr, which I’ve used many times, but for some reason it wasn’t doing what I expected. OH WOE! Never rely on technology in front of an audience, dear readers. It has certainly led to many a pratfall in my time.

On the poetry front, good news: I feel I may have written a half-decent poem, my first in a while. Hurrah!  But I can’t decide where to send it – to Black Hole Magazine*, or the No Hope Poetry Competition*? It’s a tough call!

More good news: the lovely Helen Ivory has accepted a poem for Ink, Sweat & Tears – thank you, thank you Ms I! – to appear some time in the Spring. Another poem made it onto the Plough Prize shortlist (results out in March I believe, but the winners have already been notified, so I know that’s as far as my poem got – the shortlist and longlist idea is great, as it gives you some consolation that your poem wasn’t entirely yawn-worthy.)

Very busy at the moment – with work, with homelife, with other poetry projects such as Telltale Press – we’ve nearly got all our readers for our next Telltale Poets & Friends reading in Lewes on 15th April – and the Needlewriters – launching our anthology next month, and a lot of online proofing to do.

I’m also researching my next ‘regional focus’ for this blog – Cumbria, I’m cumbring your way (sorry!) and one or two poet interviews for the Spring. So lots in the pipeline, and I’ll try not to break anything else.

* absolutely no slight intended towards the lovely mags and comp judges who have been so kind as to place my work in the past!

Image credit: Themewich.com

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Just doing some Spring cleaning!

Oops… look what I did, I installed a new Theme and now I’ve got to tidy up the mess. Normal service will be resumed asap. Everything is still here, I just need to find out where!

Angst/

The poetry competition game

Compers NewsPerhaps that could be a poem title? Should I send it to the Poetry London comp, or is more of a Poetry on the Lake  sort of title? Could I get some kind of double meaning out of ‘game’ in order to make it a nature poem and would it appeal to Simon Armitage when judging the Rialto comp?

‘Games’ were fun things we did as kids, weren’t they? if you discount ‘games’ – that Wednesday afternoon ritual at secondary school that usually involved mud, cold and not being picked for the team. But now we have gaming. Gamesmanship. Game over. Not fun any more. Or is it?

If we decide to enter poetry competitions we could approach it as a game (ie a bit of fun). We give a go, and if we win it’s great – sometimes a cash prize, sometimes a prize giving event or publication. Or in the case of a big competition, career-enhancing. We don’t mind paying to enter because it’s a lot of work for judges and organisers. And besides, the entry fees are a way of giving something back to poetry – the promoters of competitions are usually publishers after all, or champions of poetry in some way.

Is there an alternative? In the wider world of ‘comping’, there are people who make a good living from competitions and win more iPads, Audis and holidays than they can cope with. Apparently the secret is to approach it systematically. Less beach cricket, more The Hunger Games. A serious comper will tell you it’s a waste of time NOT to approach it this way.

So is that also true of poetry competitions? I’ve read various posts about this – what makes for a competition-winning poem, what ‘due diligence’ should be done before entering a competition, whether you’ve got more chance in a smaller competition than a big one (not as obvious as it sounds!) Judges are often happy to give their side of it, either being helpful before the fact (Emma Lee has written a good article outlining exactly what she looks for when judging a competition) or in judge’s reports (which often tell is like it is – essential reading!) Personally, I find the shortlists and longlists (for those competitions that make them public) tell you a lot. I’m often amazed at some ‘big name’ poets entering competitions. And the sheer number of entries from some poets – either money’s no object or their strategy is spend big to win big…

I also read recently (can’t remember on whose blog – help me out, someone) that competition-winning poems don’t necessarily have a place in a pamphlet (and vice versa). I quite enjoy sometimes writing to a theme, but is writing ‘competition poems’ anathema to a poet working on a pamphlet or a collection? And yet that’s a bit of a broad judgement too –  look at Ian Duhig’s marvellous The Lammas Hireling, winning the National and then the title poem of a fine collection.

I came across this interesting piece by Jendi Reiter which, although it’s primarily to do with submitting to US journals and competitions, I still found useful. I rather like her reminder that if you enter competitions, “you’re going to get a lot more rejection than validation, and internalizing others’ opinions of your worth will lead to writers’ block or fearful, unoriginal writing.” I think this is one reason I’m so ambivalent about it. I’m not sure I can keep up a healthy attitude to writing poetry at the same time as entering comps. And yet part of me enjoys the game, and every now and then I can’t resist it.