Angst – Page 6 – Robin Houghton

Angst/ 26/01/201626/01/2016

The Reading List, winding up

First: general ‘how I’m feeling’ stuff, feel free to skip down if you’re short of time

Apologies for the silence these last few days. The usual self-employed person’s dilemma of feeling like rubbish and simultaneously wanting to stay on top of work and not let people down.

Yesterday I had to leave early from John McCullough’s poetry workshop at New Writing South, for fear of irritating everyone with my endless coughing. Once home, I went to bed for two hours. And being a fast day was good, especially the no-alcohol bit. So the upshot is that I’m feeling much improved today (but not well enough to go to choir rehearsal tonight.)

The Reading List

My mini-review series ‘The Reading List’ has come to an end. It was just SO 2015! There are plenty of excellent other blogs featuring reviews, and looking at the stats for this site I could see that the initial interest in mine had levelled out. However, I’d like to assure you I’m still reading, and now and then I may well be moved to blog about individual poetry collections.

What I’ve enjoyed lately: Mark Doty’s Deep Lane, full of pathos, warmth and even farce – there’s a lovely tale of the narrator locking himself out of his house not once, but twice, and having to clamber through the window ‘which makes me think / this was what it was like to be born: / awkward, too big for the passageway…’ (‘Spent’).

I’m meandering my way through Mark Ford’s essays on poets, as gathered in This Dialogue of One (Eyewear). They are thought provoking, well researched and accessible (but not so ‘accessible’ that I don’t feel I’m being educated!) For example, this morning I read about the controversy surrounding the interpretation of Emily Dickinson’s work and how her editors disagreed about how it should be presented – as pure manuscript, or as ‘visual productions’. It made me think about her poems quite differently. If she’d been around today I think she would have wholeheartedly embraced everything from graffiti to video and sculpture in the course of expressing herself. Probably not a performance poet though, given her reserve. But a kindred spirit to Banksy, perhaps?

News of poetry rejections, submissions etc

Last week I spent a few days going over the poems I’ve been gathering for a next pamphlet. I haven’t entered the Poetry Business pamphlet comp for a few years now (since my over-confident days!), because I feel it’s the ‘big one’ as regards pamphlet comps, and the odds of winning are low. Also, I don’t feel I’ve had a strong enough submission, the time hasn’t been right, etc. But a funny thing happened as I was reading and ordering this latest group: they seemed quite good. So I thought I’d just do it, and enter. I ruthlessly ditched a couple that seemed weaker, although I like them. I’d also resurrected a poem that first saw light of day in The Interpreter’s House about 4 years ago, but that I’d been working on to improve since. In the end I had 21 poems. I wasn’t sure about the title, but I never am. Anyway, it’s sent now. Never to be thought about again, until I can try it somewhere else!

Are you currently sending out pamphlet submissions? What’s your feeling about them? I once heard a poet talking about how she wouldn’t send out her MS unless she’d first paid a professional poet to edit it. Is that usual? I just kind of naively thought you put it together yourself, did your best to order the poems, eliminate any stupid errors, and … send. And if someone liked it, you then worked with the publisher/editor to hone things up. Do share your own experience of this, I’d love to know.

Meanwhile I received yet another rejection last night, to add to the one last week. Talking about kicking a sick poet when she’s down. Still, not quite as bad as getting a £100 speeding fine three days before Christmas – Top of the Season to you, DVLA! Still, as regards the rejections (I prefer ‘DECLINED’ as a folder name) I console myself with the fact that several of the re*****d poems had been out so long I’ve since revised (and hopefully improved) them. We shall see, when I try them elsewhere. On the good news front, Charles Johnson of Obsessed with Pipework has found space for my 2 poems in the February issue, so I won’t have to wait until May to see them in print and settled down.

And MORE good news – Telltale Press has at last been accepted by the Poetry Library as a legitimate press, which means we will have a listing on their website and that all our forthcoming pamphlets will be available there. Another small but significant sign of recognition, and gratefully received.

Angst/ 19/01/2016

Post-TS Eliot Prize post, and a tale of two gaffes

The first two and a half weeks of January have been a bit of a poetry whirl (in the sense of lots of events) and although I’m now happy I’m a bit exhausted, not to mention in need of a reality-check catchup with, er, work stuff.

Last week was the excitement of the T S Eliot Prize readings (and a rather cold car journey there and back since the heating packed up.) Some excellent readings and a super atmosphere – I won’t review it here but there are plenty of interesting accounts of the evening, and photos – for example on Peter Kenny’s blog and Hilaire’s blog.

Then the very next day I hauled my smart-ish self up to London again, this time to the V & A for the T S Eliot prize giving ceremony. I won’t lie to you, this was daunting. I looked around and knew virtually nobody, at least, nobody who would greet me as someone they knew. Even the lovely folks from the Poetry Society, who I thought did know me, were a bit vague when I said hello in the queue to get in, and didn’t give off the ‘come chat to us’ vibe. I was very grateful to Anne-Marie Fyfe, who I did approach and who greeted me warmly by name. (It always impresses me when people who encounter hundreds of people every week are able to remember names of those they’ve maybe only met once or twice, with apparent ease. I’ve seen Anne-Marie do this at the Troubadour and it’s awe-inspiring. ) Anne-Marie reassured me that many of the folks in the room were friends, family and publishers of the shortlisted poets, and therefore unlikely to be familiar anyway. Nonetheless it was a strange feeling to be so at sea among what was undoubtedly a poetry circle to which I don’t have (and probably never will have) the key.

Confession time: I managed to snatch a few photos, and was standing next to Don Paterson (help!) when the winner was announced, hoping to look nonchalant and like someone who wasn’t a gatecrasher. Actually I was thrilled it was Sarah Howe, for several reasons –

I absolutely loved Loop of Jade
she seems such a nice person, and
it saved me from the embarrassment of turning to DP and giving him a big hug. I still managed to babble something to him but I think it was brief and unmemorable, so only a minor gaffe. Phew!

Meanwhile, back in the safety of my familiar milieu… Telltale Press had a snack-fuelled AGM last week at Peter’s house and now have plans for the rest of the year and beyond. I’m very grateful to be a part of such a supportive and enthusiastic group of poets. Hurrah!

And latest submissions news is that I decided rather hurriedly to throw out some poems to competitions. One of them was too hurried – after paying £5 to enter the Magma comp, like an idiot I found 3 typos and at least two other things I needed to improve. What’s the matter with me? Could I not have been a bit more careful? So that’s £5 wasted. ACK! Meanwhile, no new or acceptances or declines. So business as usual for now! Now back to work.

Angst/ 23/12/2015

Submissions stats for 2015 – the good, the bad, etc

I know there’s nothing festive about submissions stats, but I haven’t shared any in a while so in case you’re interested here goes…

Recent acceptances/ currently forthcoming

One poem in Brittle Star, one in Ink, Sweat & Tears and two in Obsessed with Pipework. All due to appear sometime in Spring 2016. Big Love & Thanks to editors Jacqueline Gabbitas, Martin Parker, Helen Ivory and Charles Johnson. Just for fun, here are some facts about these four poems (they’re not necessarily in the same order as above):

Poem A – written Feb – April 2015, 2 drafts, first submission
Poem B – written July 2014 – Nov 2015, 5 drafts, 2 previous rejections
Poem C – written June 2014 – Nov 2015, 10 drafts, 1 previous rejection
Poem D – written August 2014 – Nov 2015, 6 drafts, 1 previous rejection

Poems currently out and waiting on

2 out for 85 days/12 weeks
6 out for 71 days/10 weeks
2 out for 53 days/8 weeks
2 out for 41 days/ 6 weeks
1 for 32 days / 5 weeks

I have about 5 more which I think are nearly ready to send. There are a few submissions windows closing soon – for example Bare Fiction (9th January) and Popshot (20th January), and others opening (The Interpreter’s House in February, for example.) January is also a good month for competitions – the Kent & Sussex (deadline 31 Jan, judge Anne-Marie Fyfe) and Magma (19 Jan, judge Daljit Nagra) are two that come to mind, although I’m not sure I’ve anything with comp-winning potential at the moment.

The year in numbers – rejections and all

Since the start of 2015 I’ve had a total of 44 poems rejected by magazines and 18 unsuccessful competition entries. On the positive side I’ve had 8 poems taken by magazines, 1 second place in a competition and one longlisting. In addition I had 2 (different) pamphlet submissions longlisted and work in 3 anthologies. This doesn’t make for a stellar year in terms of ‘hit rate’ but I was pleased to make a first appearance in both Brittle Star and Prole, and on the whole I’m cautiously optimistic about where it’s all going. More to the point I have two new projects bubbling under and I’m enjoying experimenting with my writing – inspiration has come from many different sources this year and I’ll be talking more about that probably in my next post.

I hope this is an interesting yardstick for anyone else in a similar position – people tend to be a bit coy about announcing how many rejections they’ve had, but I think that it’s actually more enlightening (and maybe encouraging?) than just hearing about the acceptances. I also can’t see any reason not to talk about rejections since if you’re sending out regularly then surely they’re a fact of life and nothing to be ashamed of.

Ah! I feel a lovely quiet, indoorsy sort of Christmas coming on – much as I’d love a walk along the seafront on Christmas day the forecast is RAIN RAIN RAIN with a side of GALES. So let’s see. Wishing you a peaceful and happy Christmas, and thanks so much for reading, commenting, sharing, recommending and supporting this blog. LOVE.X

Image credit – Bo’s Cafe Life

Angst/ 09/11/2015

Aldeburgh Poetry Festival de-brief

And so the inevitable Aldeburgh Poetry Festival blog post. You’ve probably read a post or two on the subject already, or at least seen the Facebook/Twitter storm of “wasn’t it amazing?” sound bites, in-jokes about poets posing as penises – (I know! Too much alliteration) – and jolly pictures of poets sipping pints. (SORRY, am doing it again.) This is quite long, but there are subheads for the skimmers!

Three lessons for newbies

It was the first time I’d been, and clearly had a lot to learn. Still, when speaking to other ‘virgins’ I found some common themes: firstly, it’s easy to book too many sessions. I’d underestimated how exhausting it would be to go from one session to another and not schedule time for eating, chatting, walking or just sitting quietly. As it was, I certainly missed a few things I had booked for, but I don’t regret it – I had a better time for it. Secondly, be prepared for no phone signal the entire weekend. I saw a few people managing to make calls and had phone network-envy. Some were able to text. But me? Nothing. I hadn’t realised how stressy it would make me when I couldn’t talk to my husband on Friday. But thankfully there was internet, so we spoke via Skype. Thirdly, it’s important to pace yourself – not just in the number and timing of sessions, but also in the ‘meet and greet’ aspect of what is an intensely social event.

On ‘networking’

OK, so not everyone was at Aldeburgh. Hilaire wrote a lovely post about what she was planning to do while the tweet-heads were trying to get #APF15 trending. But in the crucible of Snape Maltings it was heady stuff. And for the ambitious and ballsy, there were plenty of people worth cosying-up to.

Poets and networking don’t always sit happily together. It was fascinating to see how a few people went about it. I think you need to be single-minded and thick-skinned to do it properly. But do I do it myself? I acknowledge there’s a bit of the ‘networker’ in me but although I tinker at it I’m not really confident enough to consistently pull it off. There’s the added stress of course that, unlike in business, networking has a reputation for being loathsome. To get away with it, I think it really has to be done subtly, accompanied by lashings of charm and good humour. The only trouble is, you might start believing you’re not networking, just being charming and good humoured. And that’s when it becomes loathsome.

On the first day I was pleased I hadn’t come alone as it seemed a little overwhelming. But being there with poet friends Charlotte Gann and Clare Best was brilliant, as was seeing so many familiar faces: the Brighton and Lewes contingent was impressive. I couldn’t help looking out for people I knew, or thought I might know via social media, and wondering whether to introduce myself or not. There were poets I knew (of) but not to speak to, and plenty I didn’t know at all. One of the great things was that the poet-presenters mingled and came to other people’s sessions, so there wasn’t a huge gulf between us and them. By day three I got the impression that everyone was more relaxed, me included. It seemed much easier to say a quick ‘thanks – enjoyed your session’ or ‘hello, are you so-and-so… just wanted to say hello’.

The ‘Aldeburgh’ bit

Aldeburgh is a wild place, especially in November. It didn’t stop a few poets (almost) skinny-dipping on Saturday morning while I was just about hauling myself out of bed. The weather wasn’t nice and the land around Snape Maltings (where most of the activity took place) was boggy, but staying on Aldeburgh seafront was quite magical. And the rain did clear up. This was the view from our house this morning before we left.

The town is centred on one long High Street parallel to the coastline, its houses are colourful and quirky but this is a strange, end-of-the-world sort of place which seems to teeter on the edge of the North Sea. It’s well-heeled: ‘Chelsea by the Sea’ was how a poet friend described it to me. The town is famously where Benjamin Britten and Peter Pears lived, worked, held court, founded a music festival and created a huge heartland of music for much of the mid-twentieth century.

The poetry festival used to take place here – but the story goes that some of the venues lost their health & safety credentials and the festival needed to expand in order to get the funding it needed. So everyone decamped to Snape Maltings 5 miles inland. There’s no doubt the various auditoria and the facilities there are fabulous. Some poetry festival events still happen in Aldeburgh but travelling to and fro during the day isn’t ideal, and if you don’t have a car you’re dependent on bus times.

The ‘poetry’ bit

The weekend consisted of readings, craft talks, lectures, discussions, close readings and critique sessions/masterclasses. There was plenty of variety and a few free sessions (although I never made it to those, they were mostly 15 mins of a poet talking on a topic or on a poem he/she liked.) For me, the craft talks were where I learnt the most: Zaffar Kunial on line endings, Kei Miller on ‘the image that doesn’t quite close’, Kim Addonizio on turns.

The main readings were on the long side – three poets each reading for half an hour with an interval between the second and third. On Friday evening I loved Helen Mort and Kei Miller. But after the break I was already tired (up at 7, five hours driving, three hours of poetry sessions). Like much of the audience, I was perplexed by the third poet who read, seemingly from a 1970s timewarp and determinedly ignoring the audience for his entire set. I struggled to stay awake. Still, it proved a talking point until 1am and for the rest of the weekend. Maybe the programming was designed to challenge us!

I went to a lovely short reading on Saturday by Michael McCarthy and Christine Webb, two poets with fine pedigrees who I’d never encountered before. Fifteen minutes each was the perfect format, and in an intimate venue. Similarly, a ‘New Voices’ reading gave us the opportunity of hearing four relatively new poets over the course of an hour.

There was something for everyone. At Tony Hoagland’s talk on Sharon Olds, one poet turned to me, indicated the empty seats and said ‘I thought EVERYONE would be here for this!’ To be fair, it did fill up more. Then afterwards as I made my way to the cafe I encountered another lovely poet who informed me of her great joy in NOT attending a talk on Sharon Olds. Tee hee.

Over the whole weekend I discovered all kinds of poets, poems and collections I didn’t know and hadn’t read, international in scope, and that was one of the standout features for me.

The boxes issue

I struggle a bit with the Poetry Trust stage sets – piles of cardboard boxes with ‘Words’ printed on them. First of all, in the Britten Studio, the courses of bricks weren’t aligned properly. Everyone knows “the universal rule allowing for brickwork to be stable under even modest loads is that perpends should not vertically align in any two successive courses.” (Wikipedia) This wall was about to topple. Secondly, the boxes were clearly empty. So the overall message was ’empty words, ungrounded and easy to knock down.’ Is that a good image for poetry? Remember now – I had hours and hours to stare at those boxes.

But seriously

I’m a complete newbie to the festival but it was clear talking to people who have attended many times or been involved in one way or another that it is under threat, in terms of lack of funding, and it’s by no means certain the festival will be able continue. This, plus the fact that Creative Director of sixteen years Dean Parkin is stepping down, is very sad. 2015 was the first year of Ellen McAteer‘s Directorship and it was also very sad that she was unable to be there, for personal reasons. The Poetry Trust does a fine job on a shoestring. There were one or two aspects of the festival that got me a bit grumpy but I came away as impressed and as satisfied as all the fans on Twitter. So I hope finance can be found. I would go again – probably not next year though. Unless I win some money. It gets expensive.

Winners, honourable mentions etc

Zaffar Kunial – I can’t wait to get his pamphlet. A fabulous craft talk and a star reading. This guy’s the real deal.

Kei Miller – everyone fell in love with him. The question is, does his twinkly smile remind me more of John Travolta or David Essex?

Kim Addonizio – never mind the 1980s Madonna thing, I want her as my mentor. Besides, I love Madge.

The seating in the Britten Studio – proof that good ergonomic design simply works.

Tony Hoagland – another breath-of-fresh-air American whose reading was sharp, funny, poignant and moving.

A spontaneous Saturday pub lunch – I hope we weren’t too loud … Five Women Poets Get Lairy as Locals Flee

Poet friends Clare and Charlotte, my sorority house pals and the perfect travel companions. Here’s to wine, peanut butter sandwiches, chocolate and ibuprofen!

Angst/ 30/09/2015

On not letting the competitive instinct crush creativity | poetry submissions stats

OK here goes.

I know some people will wonder why on earth I admit to all this in public. The reason is this: I’m sure I’m not the only person who gets downhearted about rejections, or who has self-doubts about my abilities as a poet. It’s fine not to show it if you do, and some people genuinely have no self-doubts. But I’ve also lived long enough in the belly of social media to know what a toxic and stressful environment it can be when you’re feeling vulnerable. So I think it can help to know you’re not alone.

It’s also very easy to have a skewed view of how things are going. For example, my feeling is I’ve had a poor year as regards getting stuff published. Every magazine I pick up I see a poem by Poet X or Poet Y, or I read the latest edition of Exceptional Poetry Magazine, and I think WTF – where’s my stuff?? I start to wonder what happened to the optimism and self confidence I had a couple of years ago. Or even the ability.

BUT… it really helps to do the numbers. Here’s what I found out when I looked at the stats from the last 12 months:

50 poems sent out in 74 submissions (some poems went out, got rejected and went out again)
48 rejections by magazines
9 failed competition entries
5 poems no response from magazine
4 poems lost by magazine
1 poem withdrawn because I had changed it a lot in the time I was waiting for a reply
5 poems accepted by magazines
1 poem placed 2nd
1 poem longlisted

plus a pamphlet shortlisted.
I have only included competitive submissions in the above, for example I’ve not included anthologies or anything submitted by invitation. I’ve also not included poems currently out and awaiting reply (16 poems in 4 submissions).

Now what this says is that 10% of poems submitted to mags were accepted for publication (5/50), 18% of poems sent to competitions achieved some kind of success (2/11), 14% of poems submitted to magazines were either lost, or presumed lost (no response in a year and no reply to enquiries) – 9/63.

I had a very good publication record in my first year of getting material placed (2011-2012), and in a way that’s the problem – I haven’t managed to keep that up. But actually, a 10% success rate seems fair. It doesn’t stop me feeling I’ve had a bad year and Must Do Better. That’s really just the competitive instinct in me.

What I find is that by looking at the numbers I can separate out competitive instinct from the creative instinct, and not let the former crush the latter.

Quality of work is so hard to gauge, and it’s so clearly not the only factor when it comes to publication – yet it’s the first thing we question when work is rejected – ‘maybe my poems are actually rubbish!’ It’s a blow to the confidence. But if you trust a bit more in the stats, it can help put everything in perspective. Focus on writing MORE and writing BETTER – yes – but keep accurate records and once a year or so do a stocktake. I find it’s really worth it.

What do you think? Stupid to get bogged down in numbers? Helpful for painting a clearer picture? Stop crunching numbers and read more Bishop?

Angst/ 28/09/2015

Poetry Book Fair and other shenanigans

Books purchased at the Poetry Book Fair 2015

Yes, it’s the obligatory ‘look what I bought at the Poetry Book Fair‘ photo – I love looking at other people’s ‘hauls’ to see what I missed. There was so much choice it was overwhelming.

My strategy was to start calmly – on my first sweep I just picked up a couple of things at full price, including Jack Underwood’s Happiness and Holly Hopkins’ pamphlet Soon Every House Will Have One from which I’d heard her reading in the morning. Later in the day I then did a kind of serendipity follow-up, picking interesting-looking publications up at random and enjoying some excellent bargains. Carcanet started selling everything for a fiver, and even Telltale got in on the act by offering a catchy “four for the price of two and a half”.

Each year I’m seeing more and more of my poet friends there, or maybe it’s just that I’m getting to know more poets. There’s a definite buzz about it. Props to Chrissy Williams and Joey Connolly for all their hard work in organising.

I had to leave early to make it back for a Lewes Singers concert and it was a delight to be able to sit and listen for a change. And so ended a crazy weekend that started with Waitrose having no record of the glasses we’d booked for the concert, and finished with us deciding to pull out of the flat we were on the verge of buying. The perfect place is out there. But for now, we’re very happy in our temporary home. I just can’t seem to locate anything and the spare room is one huge mess of boxes (some half-unpacked) and sundry loose items from golf clubs to something that looks like a big heavy-duty sleeping bag. It’s actually a cover for the harpsichord. Oh yes, we found space for that.

Amongst the fog of dealing with solicitors, estate agents, utilities, plumbers etc, finding my way around a strange town and forever looking for the stapler, one thing I’m determined to make time for is the Reading List. Most of our books will have to stay in boxes (rental places don’t seem to have things like fitted bookshelves) but I’ve ‘saved’ a few poetry books. Plus, in the move, I came across a couple of long lost pamphlets that had disappeared down the back of the bed. Hurrah! Add to that my book fair new purchases and that should keep me going for a while.

PS oops I almost forgot – look what I picked up, Elly!

Angst/ 04/09/2015

Poetry Book Fair excitement, plus my poetry gets a leg up

September so often seems like the shortest month – why is that? At the moment it’s also looking like the craziest this year. We have to move out of our house by 23rd, which is little more than a couple of weeks away. And no, we haven’t started packing yet, because we don’t have any boxes because we haven’t confirmed the movers because we don’t actually know where we’re moving to yet – UGH. There are a lot of ‘ifs’. But ‘if’ they all work out then it’s all going to be fine. I’m very grateful for your thoughts and good wishes. Thank you.

On the poetry front, I’ve been reading (as you know) but haven’t been doing much writing. Nevertheless I’ve been blessed with a number of rejections recently, which has freed up quite a few poems for submitting elsewhere! How’s that for positivism! (Oh no, that’s not the word is it? but you get my meaning).

Good news: those lovely peeps at New Writing South have offered me a place on their ‘NWS10’ scheme, which means I’m going to benefit from all kinds of fantastic advice and support for my writing over the next year or so. For starters, I’ll be joining John McCullough’s fortnightly ‘Advanced Poetry’ course from next month, which I’ve heard so many good things about. Then there’s a project I’m planning with a photographer friend which will be based in Eastbourne, my new home town. Having the support of NWS means I’ll be able to tap into their expertise and credibility which gives me much confidence about getting the project off the ground. I’m feeling really enthused about this – and I feel it also gives me ‘permission’ to write more, improve and try to grow as a poet.

Telltale Poets are getting excited about our first appearance at the Poetry Book Fair in London on 26th September, sharing a table with the delightful Frogmore Press and helping to represent the Lewes Massive. Never mind that I am DOUBLE BOOKED that day with my choir as I am planning to hologram myself and nobody will be any the wiser. Plus of course, both Telltale Press and Lewes Singers are Not All About Me! Anyway at the Book Fair we’ll be launching our latest pamphlet, The Fire Station by Sarah Barnsley… I can’t show you the cover yet because it’s top secret but the whole pamphlet is awesome or killin it as I’m told they say.

So if you’re coming to the Book Fair remember to drop by, say hello, pick up some delectable freebie stuff and spend a shedload of money on our pamphlets to help feed the poets. Thanks so much!

Angst/ 23/08/2015

The Road Not Taken & FOMO

Just the other day Don Share posted on Twitter a link to a recording of Robert Frost reading ‘The Road Not Taken’. How wonderful to hear it in the poet’s voice. Here it is on YouTube:

Matthew Hollis, in his 2011 biography of Edward Thomas, Now All Roads Lead to France, tells of Thomas’s distress at this poem, taking it so personally, in fact, that it was the final push that sent him off to war (and his death). This, despite Frost trying to reassure him the poem wasn’t meant as an admonishment for Thomas’s (self-perceived) cowardice or indecision, but rather a very mixed message indeed, full of ironies and what the poet called ‘the fun of the thing’.

Then this morning I open up the latest email from Maria Popova’s excellent Brain Pickings, to read another beautiful essay, this week on the topic of all our roads not taken – In Praise of Missing Out: Psychoanalyst Adam Phillips on the Paradoxical Value of Our Unlived Lives.

In this early internet age of ‘fear of missing out’ – one of the truly troubling aspects of social media – the idea of being haunted by the road not taken, or the lives we might have lived or perhaps we feel we ought to be living, seems extraordinarily relevant.

As Philips puts it, “We have an abiding sense, however obscure and obscured, that the lives we do lead are informed by the lives that escape us,” going on to argue that our ‘wished for’ or fantasy lives, the ones we could have/might have lived, are as much a part of us as our real lives, and as Popova says, “the most ideal of these missed-out-on experiences reveal a great deal about the realest aspects of our lives.”

This is a fascinating read which got me thinking about so many aspects of online behaviour, not just FOMO or how the medium seems to fan the flames of envy, but also the holding power of online communities, fantasy worlds and games. I wrote an academic paper on the subject fifteen years ago entitled ‘You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave’ – props to the first person to tell us in the comments what song that line comes from!

Angst/ 26/06/2015

The wonder of positive conversation

Yesterday I had an inspirational afternoon with the lovely Catherine Smith on the sunny terrace of Pelham House in Lewes. OK, so I’ve been a bit low this week what with the pending house move & lack of sleep for worrying about it. But I hardly have a bad life! I was reminded how crucial it is to spend time with friends and their different perspectives, different backgrounds, different cycles to their moods, just different lives. To get out and have conversations, to listen to the timbre of another voice, to be told something new, or see something differently.

I loved hearing Catherine talk about how she came to writing. And there in the conversation was something that set off a spark in my head. It was how she closed the gap between where she felt she was with poetry at the start of her Creative Writing MA, and where she realised she wanted to be. Her answer was simple: she read everything she could get her hands on.

The university allowed her to borrow 15 books a week, so she ‘devoured’ 15 poetry books a week. When she got through them, she went to other libraries. All this at the same time as condensing the MA into one year and bringing up two small children. This is what genuine drive looks like. A calling. I listened to this and thought about how I buy poetry books and then dip and pick at them, or sometimes have them there to read and never get around to it. How I don’t have any children or even elderly parents to worry about and the generous nature of my husband who allows me a free poetry rein. How I know in my heart I’ll never be a big-name poet but if I allow myself to think I’ve gone as far as I’m capable, then that indeed is as good as it will ever get.

At the end of a week in which I’ve gone into a mini meltdown of overwhelm, it’s probably really stupid of me to be setting myself yet more goals. But I feel inspired to follow Catherine’s lead and create a schedule for myself. I could start with the books on my shelf – if I read every poem I have in the house that would be a massive result! Part of me wants to make it into a ‘project’ and not only do the reading but create an online reading group and invite others to join me. But that would take me away from reading time! And I have enough damn projects on the go as it is, not all of which I’m managing to keep up…

When I took myself on a writing retreat it was easy to read a whole collection in a day (well, maybe not Michael Symmons Roberts’ Drysalter or the complete works of William Blake). So here’s the target: seven books a week, and no cheating by choosing just the slim volumes. Catherine suggested picking every fourth book on the shelf, or working through (roughly) in alphabetical order.

Of course, if anyone wants to join me and compare notes, that would be lovely! But I won’t turn it into a PROJECT, at least not unless it becomes A Thing. I can’t promise an in-depth review of every book, but I will report on what I’ve read in any one week. If life (or work, or a house move, or a holiday, or a good conversation) gets in the way, I will try not to beat myself up about it. This is not a competition, and as long as I’m reading, I’m not worrying so much about the writing …

Angst/ 22/06/2015

Two steps forward one step back (or vice versa)

Last week I was deep in Telltale Press business which is probably why I didn’t post an update here. I’ve also been distracted by the process of ‘moving house’ which I put in inverted commas because I’m not entirely sure whether it’s actually happening, or just something I imagine is happening. Rather like those vivid memories we all have of things we think happened to us in the past, when in fact they didn’t. Anyway, it’s not exactly going smoothly and it’s taking far longer than expected, and I’m feeling a bit in limbo.

So I’ve been grateful for the poetry readings this month, the last of which is tonight in south London, only a few miles from where I grew up (but left when I was twenty). I haven’t yet decided whether to read any of my set-in-London poems, none of which are that cheery and more to the point I wonder if they may not be that good – why do I only think this when I’m considering reading them to a London audience? Hmmm. The invitation to read at this event came from Richard Skinner, the generous and multi-talented host of the Vanguard Readings that I go to when I can. Definitely worth the trip up to Camberwell.

Last Thursday we had a super time at the Poetry Cafe – Tamar Yoseloff & Sue Rose joined Telltales Peter Kenny, Sarah Barnsley and me for what felt like a night of strong performances. The Poetry Cafe is in Covent Garden, but it doesn’t feel like real London in the way that Camberwell or Highgate does. (I still didn’t read any London poems, though!)

Not quite sure where this blog post is going – sorry! But a quick update on things: no acceptances to report, alas, but I have been doing a little writing. Not a lot, but some. I’ve had polite rejections from Poetry Review and Antiphon. Those poems that had been tied up for months I’ve stopped waiting on, and have started reviewing and re-sending out. This seemed like a positive, proactive step.

Currently reading: the June issue of Poetry Magazine which arrived last week, with the lovely line by John Wieners on the back – “Yesterday over the cliff, today on top of it.” Also recently arrived is the Rattle Summer issue, and The Interpreter’s House 59, which is very good indeed, with strong work by some different names. Am I the only one who reads only the poems, not the stories? Unless it’s by an author I know. If I ever started a magazine it would be poetry and commentary only, no prose. That’s one of the things I love about Rattle – “poetry, translations, reviews, essays and interviews.” Although I’d like to include art as well, but I know that pushes up production costs. Oh and the other fun read I had recently was Young Bysshe by Claire Tomalin – a bite-sized romp through the early life of Shelley. I can hardly believe what he packed into his first 21 years. Astonishing.

Category: Angst