Category: Angst

An update on submissions, readings etc and a nail-biting aside

My fingernails are looking reasonable at the moment, which is pretty good considering that the house-moving stressometer is probably at its highest right now.

A short aside about nailbiting – a bit off-topic and do not read if you are squeamish

I can usually tell if I’ve got too much on my mind by the state of my fingers. Too much biting is part of a perpetual cycle of worry – unconscious biting (for comfort) – feelings of self-loathing (because it’s so horrible a habit) – self-congratulations (when the fingers grow back) – worrying if there’s something I should be worrying about, etc. Of course, sometimes the different stages last for ages, so I can go for a while without a crisis. It’s a lifetime sentence with which finger/nailbiters will probably identify, but leaves non-biters mystified and often somewhat repulsed. I can trace it back to childhood when it was never (and probably still isn’t) regarded as self-harming. I wonder if that’s because it’s politely called ‘nailbiting’ although for many of us it’s much worse than that. I can safely say I don’t do it for attention. I’ve had hypnotherapy on more than one occasion and that is the only thing that stops it – albeit for a certain period of time. But a single session has lasted me nearly two years in the past. Chronic nail or finger biters – I recommend it HIGHLY.

OK, back to the business of poetry … I seem to be having a good few days as regards writing. The recent results of the Cinnamon pamphlet competition – (reader, I flunked it) – have prompted me to look again at my submission and identify the weak links. And – joyous! – I see several. So. Looking again at some poems unattended for 6 months or more has sent me into a frenzy of revising and re-writing. I have sent out more of the individual poems. I am hoping an experienced poet will help me sharpen up the pamphlet, ready for the next submission. I’m feeling positive that many of the poems therein have merit, and I’m starting to understand what edits are needed. Good times!

Submissions latest – since my last blog post on the subject I’ve heard from one of the long unheard-from mags, to say that my poems had been sent to a mystery file …? But were now winging their way to the selector for some unspecified future sifting of submissions. How magazines work is entirely a mystery to me but soon the boot will be on the Other Foot! My time as a selector for South magazine is nigh. Together with (and guided by the superior experience of) Jeremy Page of The Frogmore Papers, I will soon be reading and selecting submissions. Stay tuned for how this pans out.

Readings – last week I was very pleased to be at Redroaster in Brighton to hear readings from D A Prince, Deborah Tyler-Bennet and Andie Davidson. Andie is a Brighton Poetry Stanza cohort and one of my ‘loose committee’ of organisers, as well as a super poet and excellent in a workshop. Sadly I was soooo tired I was too dead on my feet to really get into the atmosphere or do any chatting, in fact it was lucky I wasn’t driving home as I think I fell asleep before we reached the car.

Forthcoming – on Saturday I’m looking forward to a writing day at Riverhill Himalayan Gardens with poet friend Lucy and numerous others. The day is organised as part of Abegail Morley‘s poetry residency there, and if the sun shines it will be glorious. (Abegail recently posted a Q & A with me on her blog, on the subject of Telltale Press – do have a read if you’re interested.) Then on Monday I’m going to the Troubadour for Smith’s Knoll night and an injection of poetradrenaline (see what I did there?)

A few dates when I’m reading: Lewes and Brighton folks, I’d love to see you at St Anne’s in Lewes on Sunday 14th June 3pm, when I’ll be taking part in a reading on the (loosely interpreted, I hope) subject of ‘Creation’, alongside Ann Segrave, Jeremy Page and Mandy Pannett. Free, with a collection afterwards.

On Thursday 18th June at 7pm I’ll be at the Poetry Cafe in London for the next Telltale Poets & Friends (also FREE), reading with another lovely group of poets, namely Tamar Yoseloff, Sue Rose, Peter Kenny and our newest Telltale poet, Sarah Barnsley. I’m currently working with Sarah on producing her pamphlet and I can tell you it’s going to be big. Stand back for an early autumn launch.

Then on Monday 22nd June at 7.30pm as part of the Camberwell Arts Festival I’m reading at The Crooked Well together with Richard Skinner, Josephine Corcoran and Roy Marshall. Possibly free, or nearly. No wonder poets are all skint!

After that I’ll be taking a summer break from readings and the like. There’s a new home to think about, after all.

So when is the editing done?

A quiet morning, so I’m taking the time to go through all the hurriedly-filed poems and get organised, as I want to send a few more submissions out – to fill the hole left by those I’ve finally given up on.

poetry filing

 

I knew I’d been hanging onto a few, waiting for the submissions windows of the mags they feel destined for. But I didn’t realised how many there were, in various states of completion. In the end I counted 35, and that’s just the ones I’ve printed out (I usually only do this if I think they’re ready or nearly ready. It also included poems that’ve been sent out, perhaps several times, but haven’t yet found homes. It doesn’t include those currently out.)

Now I’ll go through and categorise them – OK to resend as-is, need some work (but hopefully the last edits before sending), needs a lot of work (some editing then re-file to look at another time). I’m hopeful there won’t be anything to ditch entirely (I’ve already got rid of two this morning which just seemed un-rescuable.)

Everyone has their own thoughts about editing & reworking. When is the editing done? Experienced poets say a poem isn’t necessarily finished when it’s published. I can see how that might happen if you’re deciding on poems to put into a collection, and you may look at something published in a magazine a few years back and decide you can improve it. My trouble is that I sometimes re-work a poem while it’s out for consideration somewhere, then if it’s rejected I’m kind of relieved because I think the newer version is better. Perhaps the reason I do it is because I’m subconsciously pre-empting a rejection? Hmm, I probably shouldn’t waste time wondering about that.

What I do know (for me anyway so I imagine it’s the same for many people) is that there is no correlation between the number of edits and/or length of time a poem sits ‘maturing’ and whether it gets published and/or placed somewhere. I’ll repeat that: no correlation.

I can’t pretend to enjoy the waiting game once something has been sent out, but I do enjoy the editing/filing/re-working is it any good/is it finished angsty stuff leading up to that point, and although I frequently kill my darlings once they’re been through 5 or 6 rejections, there are a few that are still hanging on. Because just occasionally an old one finally gets pummelled into something worth reading, and that’s very satisfying.

A poetry Spring clean

I’m finally getting myself back on track after two weeks of Jury Service. There are blogs to attend to, email updates to send, all manner of poetry admin for Telltale Press, Brighton Stanza and Needlewriters and maybe, just maybe some time to do some actual writing and even sending off. Oh and the small matter of a pending house move. Possibly.

So it’s time for some clearing out and cleaning up. A good friend recently did a massive wardrobe overhaul and I was the happy recipient of a ton of free clothes and ‘accessories’ – not being an accessories kind of gal I’ve now increased the number of scarves and bags I own by about 800%. My husband thinks I’ve been abducted and replaced with someone far more well-heeled. To make space for all this (we still live in a little house … at least for another 6 weeks or so) I now have another huge bag of other stuff to take to the charity shop. And a good clean out of drawers and wardrobe done prior to The Big Move.

What this is all leading up to of course is the fact that SPRING CLEAN MANIA has infected the ‘poetry’ folder (and all its sub-folders) on my computer.  I started archiving poems in February and both the ‘archive’ and ‘not for publication’ folders are now bulging. (The latter is important – if anything were to happen to me, it will be very clear to any kind friend or family member going through my poems WHICH ones must never see the light of day. A bit control-freakish? Maybe!)

I am also doing a ruthless cull of outstanding submissions. Yes folks, I’ve taken a unilateral decision – and no doubt some people will find this controversial – to finally consider dead those submissions I’ve been waiting on since August and September last year. Inasmuch as I’m taking them out of the ‘pending’ folder and either resubmitting, editing or shelving them.  Here’s how it all ended (an update to a previous post on this topic):

Magazine A: 4 poems submitted by email (£1 paid) August 2014 – that’s 268 days /38 weeks ago. First gentle enquiry sent November 2014, no response. Second enquiry January 2015, no response. Since then, I’ve heard from two poet friends that this particular magazine had never replied to their submissions either, even after a year. It’s a shame, because it was a good publication and I’ve had work in it in the past, but I feel all the goodwill I had for them has been sucked out me and spat back in my face.

Magazine B: 4 poems submitted September 2014. I had included two SAEs – one was purely a receipt, which was kindly sent back to me six weeks later. I provided this because 2 previous submissions had been lost.  I didn’t enquire about these poems, because I was reassured by the receipt, plus this is a magazine I have a lot of time for and I didn’t want to hassle the editors. When I did finally enquire recently, after 8 months, I did get a quick response, but it was clear from the many questions and answers we exchanged that the poems couldn’t be located. In the end I told them not to spend any more time looking, and that I would consider them withdrawn.

It was a sad decision to make, but I’ve had that particular editor running round looking for my poems more than once before, and there’s no point annoying editors unnecessarily or giving them extra work. There’s certainly no point flogging a dead horse: I can’t help but think that if there was anything good about the poems they wouldn’t have ended up at the bottom of a filing tray or stuck to the sole of someone’s shoe.

In the meantime, of course, many other publications have read and responded to submissions I’ve sent them, some quickly, some slowly, some acceptances but more rejections – and that’s the natural ebb and flow of poems in and poems out. As I’ve said before, I am sympathetic to overworked editors and in their position I’m sure I’d get fed up with reading bad work and dealing with the odd bit of bad poet behaviour. Although to be honest I don’t know of any poets who bombard magazines with stroppy enquiries or any of the other things we submitters are regularly accused of.

What I do know is that there are magazine editors who are good excellent at:

  1. managing poets’ expectations by keeping instructions on their website accurate – and if this means stating ‘do not enquire until after 6 months have passed’ or even ‘we do not respond to all submissions’ then so be it!  (I know of several publications who state these are their policies, and I respect them for that. After all, if I don’t like it, I don’t have to submit, do I?)
  2. responding to polite enquiries received after the ‘expect a reply by’ date. Is it so hard to do?

So – what now to do with the 8 poems now back in circulation? On first glance I think I’ve already revised a couple of them. There are another 3 or 4 I think I will shelve for now. Which leaves 2 or 3 I’m still happy with as is.

Now if I were REALLY serious about Spring cleaning I wouldn’t be archiving the old or bad poems, I’d be deleting them completely – but I just find that very hard to do, stupid as it may sound.

Anyway, that’s now off my chest. There is of course the small matter of the 5 poems submitted to another publication in November 2014 that I’m still waiting on … I’ve had no response to my two enquiries, but I’m giving it until July before writing that one off.

 

Can you get a poem out of it?

Courtroom dramaThis is question I’ve been asked (and have asked myself) every since I knew I would be doing jury service these two weeks. Having been given a day off tomorrow (a case finished today) I’ve been thinking about this. It could be an ideal opportunity to observe/experience something new, and comment on it in some interesting way. But in my heart I also know poems don’t really pop up like that, and it’s often the most mundane of encounters – an odd word, a small thing, not a big event – that leads to a poem.

And I know from experience that the really difficult subjects can take years to enter the mind in such as way as to suggest a poem.

I can’t pretend I wasn’t reluctant to do this particular public service, and I anticipated a lot of waiting around, being directed by endless rules and formalities and possibly many hours in a courtroom listening to less-than-scintillating cases. What I didn’t anticipate was quite how much it can get to you, listening to the minutiae of other people’s lives, the dreadful sadness of watching people completely crushed by what they’re going through – people who are total strangers, and yet you can’t help but care. It almost feels like you’re watching a play, because you’re sat there as passive as an audience, and yet this is real life – real people, real consequences.

Jurors aren’t allowed to talk about the cases. Not when they’re ongoing, and not ever. And that can be quite an emotional burden. Will I get a poem out of it? Maybe. But not yet. I could write about it, but I don’t think I’d be able to step back enough from it to craft it up.

Courtroom drama – big business for fiction, but is it a common theme in poetry I wonder?

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?

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

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.

A model rejection letter

The other day I received an email rejection letter from Rattle, an excellent US magazine I both subscribe to and aspire to being published in. So yes, it was a blow to have my poems rejected. But I didn’t feel dejected. Here’s why. Editor Tim Green sends out what I can only describe as a model rejection letter.

As we all know, rejections can vary in quality, and you just have to deal with them. But I do believe there are good and bad ways to reject, just as we’re always being told there are good and bad ways to submit our poems.

So, rather than naming and shaming the poor ones I think it’s better all round to draw attention to the very best, in the hope that others may follow suit. With Tim Green’s permission I am reproducing the entire letter here:

Dear Robin,

Thank you for sending us “4 poems from Robin Houghton – thanks for considering,” but unfortunately we’ve decided not to publish any of these pieces. I want to assure you that your work has been taken under careful consideration—Megan and I each read every poem before replying, so everything has been read twice by the actual editors.

This is a form letter—necessary with a staff of two and all these submissions—but what I’m about to say is sincere: Unlike most literary magazines, we don’t directly solicit work from anyone; we feel that practice isn’t fair, and doesn’t make for a good magazine. Instead, we read a great number of poems—over 80,000 each year—and publish our favorite 150, regardless of who wrote them. The odds are always going to be long, but that’s the only thing that keeps the quality of the magazine as high as it is. We always appreciate the opportunity to read your work—that’s what we’re here to do.

Also, it should go without saying that our decision to return this submission doesn’t mean much. We’re just fans of poetry ourselves, and all tastes are subjective. Moreover, we’re always looking to make the magazine as eclectic as possible—often we end up turning down submissions that we enjoy, simply because they’re similar in tone or content to other pieces we’ve published.

In any event, thanks for continuing to share your work. We’re happy to read submissions any time, year-round—and we just announced that we’ll be paying all contributors $50 per piece, too. So hopefully we’ll always be at the top of your list for places to send new poems.

Best Wishes,
Tim

Timothy Green
Editor
tim@rattle.com
www.rattle.com

So there you have it – an honest, matter-of-fact, informative and elegant rejection letter. No hand-wringing, no patronising and no BS.

I’m a big fan of the simple but kind ‘your poems weren’t right on this occasion, sorry’ rejection slip. But if you’re going to say any more than that, then this, surely is the model to live up to.

I hope if I’m ever in Tim’s position I’ll be able to do as good a job.

Let’s talk poem titles

Help! I can’t be the only one who has this problem. Poem titles. What the &%$?!*?

I seem to have a issue with both the creative and the administrative aspects of poem titles.

Sometimes I’m pleased with a poem, but the ‘working title’ just doesn’t cut it. Or I don’t even have a working title. Sometimes I save a poem under its working title and then can’t find it. Sometimes I submit a poem with ‘title X’ which, after four or five rejections, I rework a bit and change the title, then can’t find either the poem or where I submitted it. Sometimes I have a GREAT title in my head, but can’t write a poem to go with it. Maybe it’s a pamphlet title? But I haven’t written the pamphlet either. Sometimes I look at the titles of poems in magazines and wonder at their length or quirkiness, and I TRY to write long, quirky titles to my poems. But they resist and resist until they’re just one or two words again. The first one often being ‘The’.

O gods of poetry, please tell me where the poem titles are, I need a clue!

A writing retreat, and other treats

Standen House

I always think of January as being a bit dreary, so it tends to be the time of year I make plans for things to look forward to.

Number one is a short writing retreat – I did a DIY retreat a couple of years ago and got a lot out of it – not least of all enough material to produce two decent poems.  But I was a bit lonely – so this time I’ve booked 3 nights away rather than four, at a National Trust flat in Standen, an Arts & Crafts house which I’ve always loved visiting. I’ll have free range access to all the gardens and grounds while I’m there and a cosy flat in the servants quarters where I can read and write. Are you jealous yet?! That will be in March, when the days will be slightly longer and who knows, maybe warmer too.

I’ve also booked onto an afternoon workshop with Anne-Marie Fyfe on the theme of ‘a bridge too far’ in February, and this workshop offered by Poetry Swindon also looks tempting – Smart reading for smarter writing with Martin Malone – but it’s the day before and I might be tad exhausted from all the workshopping (and travelling) in one weekend.

It’s a good thing I’m going to be doing some workshopping and retreating because I’ve got a few readings coming up, and need new material! This Thursday 22nd January I’m on home turf here in Lewes for Needlewriters, then nothing else booked for a while, although Telltale Poets are planning another reading in March or April – we’ll be finalising that soon. On April 22nd I’ll be reading at Lauderdale House in London, as part of Shanta Acharya’s Poetry in the House series, which will be fab, and in May 3rd I’ll be in Mayfield for a reading during the Mayfield Fringe Festival, at the kind invitation of Sian Thomas. Later in the year, big thanks to Dawn Gorman for booking me to read at Words and Ears in Bradford on Avon on October 29th – which is actually my birthday, so we’re making a nice trip of it.

As regards submissions, there’s no news to report I’m afraid. I’ve lost a bit of momentum. I’m in the doldrums with no sign of the wind getting up. So I’m focusing more on finding the time to write, and am resisting the urge to enter competitions or submit to any more mags just for the sake of getting things out there. To be honest the cupboard is bare at the moment – all my half-decent stuff is tied up and out of circulation. If you’re interested, here’s how the magazine submissions are going:

4 poems have been out for 5 days – yes! I submitted a few the other day – but other than that:
9 poems have been out for 76 days
4 poems for 131 days
4 poems for 156 days

I’ll soon be able to move a couple back into circulation which were out to competitions. It’s a slooooow process, isn’t it? But I’m heartened by reminding myself that for many fine poets three or four good poems a year was (or is) enough.  Quality, not quantity 🙂 And think of the treats coming up!