Category: Blog

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Working from (a temporary) home

I’m currently working each morning from a little B&B room in a farmhouse in Pembrokeshire, while Nick is here playing the organ for St David’s Cathedral. Apart from occasionally getting up in the night and bashing into furniture it’s all very pleasant. A cockerel and a swarm of hens outside. Peaceful countryside views. We’ve had some lovely walks along the coast, and a boat trip over to Skomer island. Our hosts are accommodating and don’t seem to mind me holing up here a lot of the time, even though it probably seems a bit odd. Our flat and garden are being taken care of at home, so I’m trying not to worry about the tomatoes, or dwell on the heatwave we’re missing…

The timing is a bit weird as we’re shortly off for a ‘proper’ holiday, and so I’m finding there’s rather a lot to fit in beforehand. One big (but unpaid!) job is to get the quarterly magazines submissions windows list up to date for mailing out on or around September 1st. So far I’ve been through the spreadsheet and updated all that I can from the magazine websites and/or Twitter feed: new URLs, new subs windows info, changes to guidelines, publication schedules and whatever. I’ll emailed eleven magazine editors to ask them to clarify (eg when websites show a July submissions deadline, that sort of thing). Have heard back from one so far, but hopefully by the end of next week… It looks like there are at least half a dozen new publications to add. And some windows closing on August 31st or early September, so I’ll let everyone know that on an email prior to the end of the month.

If you’re not on the email list for this and would like to be, just let me know (robin at robinhoughtonpoetry.co.uk) and I’ll add you.

Meanwhile, I’m reviewing my manuscript for Live Canon, as some of the poems have changed a little. And I’m trying to keep up with (but enjoying) Live Canon’s August Treasure Hunt.

On the submissions front I’ve had three poems rejected by Prole (they have such a fast turnaround, which never ceases to amaze me) and two accepted by Stand, which I’m very pleased about as I’ve never had anything published there, and it’s a great mag (and I like the shape/ format too).

By the way – Prole has a pamphlet competition on at the moment but it closes on 31 August, so hurry if you fancy entering,

I was hoping to make this week a bit of a mini-retreat, but so far I’ve only managed to start one new poem. I’ve been reading as well, but I haven’t quite had the time I imagined I’d have.

Anyway here are a few photos to give you the feel of the place…

Pembrokeshire coast

welsh pony

Little Haven, Pembrokeshire

St David's Cathedral

St David's Cathedral interior (Nave)

 

 

Angst/

A few thoughts from Virginia Woolf on praise and fame

Virginia Woolf’s A Writer’s Diary is proving a rich source of inspiration. On the subject of a writer’s insecurity, it’s refreshing to find the same things bothered her that do us all – is my writing any good, what will people make of it, how come so-and-so got more coverage/attention than me, and so on. She didn’t have social media to cope with of course, but she had a fiercely intellectual and competitive circle of friends and family, and the media of her day carried enormous influence.

Here are a few extracts I’ve enjoyed so far. (‘Nessa’ is Vanessa Bell, VW’s sister, and ‘Lytton’ is Lytton Strachey.)

Shall I ever be able to read it again?

March 1919 

“I don’t suppose I’ve ever enjoyed any writing so much as I did the last half of Night and Day. Indeed, no part of it taxed me as The Voyage Out did; and if one’s own ease and interest promise anything good, I should have hopes that some people at least will find it a pleasure. I wonder if I shall ever be able to read it again? Is the time coming when I can endure to read my own writing in print without blushing—shivering and wishing to take cover?”

This question of praise and fame

March 1921

“Nessa approved of Monday or Tuesday—mercifully; and thus somewhat redeems it in my eyes. I now wonder a little what reviewers will make of it—this time next month. Let me try to prophesy. Well, The Times will be kindly, a little cautious. Mrs Woolf, they will say, must beware of virtuosity. She must beware of obscurity. Her great natural gifts etc etc. … […] then, in the Westminster, Pall Mall and other serious evening papers I shall be be treated very shortly with sarcasm.

[…] And I ought to be writing Jacob’s Room and I can’t […] you see, I’m a failure as a writer. I’m out of fashion: old: shan’t do any better […] my book out (prematurely) and nipped, a damp firework. […] Ralph sent my book out to The Times for review without date of publication in it. Thus a short notice is scrambled through to be in “on Monday at latest”, put in an obscure place, rather scrappy, complimentary enough, but quite unintelligent. Oh, and Lytton’s book is out and takes up three columns […] my temper sank and sank till for half an hour I was as depressed as I ever am.  […] To rub this in we had a festive party at 41: to congratulate Lytton; which was all it should be, but then he never mentioned my book, which I suppose he has read, and for the first time I have not his praise to count on.

[…] This question of praise and fame must be faced. […] I think the only prescription for me is to have a thousand interests—if one is damaged [by criticism] to be able instantly to let my energy flow into Russian, or Greek, or the Press, or my garden, or people, or some activity disconnected with my own writing.”

Beyond boasting – the supreme triumph

May 1921

“I sat in Gordon Square yesterday for an hour and a half talking to Maynard [Keynes]. […] Maynard said he liked praised, and always wanted to boast. He said that many men marry in order to have a wife to boast to. But, I said, it’s odd that one boasts considering that no-one is ever taken in by it. It’s odd too that you of all people should want praise. You and Lytton are passed beyond boasting —which is the supreme triumph. […] I love praise, he said. I want it for the things I am doubtful about.”

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Being on the happy side of a fine line, and other August musings

August. Already. Do you remember how summer holidays seemed in childhood – a long holiday starting late July (for those of us in state schools) and extending only really to the end of August? But it seemed like ages, and that summer didn’t really begin until the school term was done with. But now, the beginning of August has me thinking ‘oh no please can the summer please slow down?’ because September is just around the corner. I suppose it’s one of the joys of accumulating many years of life, and appreciating every day all the more. So here we are: the garden starting to look blousy, the evenings getting shorter but actually warmer than in June, Autumn events looking a lot nearer.

The last couple of weeks have produced a healthy mix of good and bad news. On the same day as learning that Live Canon are going to publish my pamphlet (yay), I had a rejection from The Rialto (boo). The day after congratulating myself that my new low-carb eating regime (I refuse to call it a diet!) is doing a good job of staving off the steroid-induced fat gain everyone has promised me, a friend I haven’t seen in ages tells me I’m definitely suffering from ‘moon face’ (BOO). And just as some of the tomato plants I’ve been growing have begun to produce lovely sweet yellow fruit, another variety is suffering from ‘bottom end rot’. Hmmm.

Tomatoes Gold Nugget
Some you win …
Tomato bottom end rot
… some you lose

Actually the Rialto rejection was one of the nicest I’ve ever received, in that editor Michael Mackmin gave me thoughtful and helpful feedback on what wasn’t working for him. He has to be at least as overworked as all other poetry magazine editors, so this kind of thing is unexpected and appreciated. And of course I’d just heard about the Live Canon pamphlet competition, so who wouldn’t be feeling resilient after that? My fellow Live Canon selectees/finalists/winners (delete as appropriate) are serious poets: Tania Hershman, Katie Griffiths and Miranda Peake, and I’m having to work hard to stem the imposter syndrome feelings. The longlist contained many fine poets. The way I look at it is this: there is inevitably a very fine line, a hair’s breadth maybe, between longisted and finalist. This time the poems made the cut. Many times they do not. The whole thing is competitive and it’s nuts, but I choose to play the game.  SO … I am very grateful to Live Canon, and the pamphlet may be arriving as early as November. The working title is Was it the Diet Coke, and other questions.

Meanwhile, I’m currently enjoying the Live Canon Summer Treasure Hunt, getting to know new poets and poems. It’s a pleasant way to spend half an hour each day, and it’s expanding my reading. Just another example of the innovative and engaging activities Live Canon come up with (oh yeah I would say that wouldn’t I?)

And talking about expanding reading, here’s an interesting challenge from Electric Lit: 31 poets recommend 31 books to ready every day in August. A book a day? Even the Reading List challenge I set myself wasn’t that demanding. But it’s a good list for reference.

I’ve also had the privilege of singing in a little choir of five at no less than two weddings in the last month. I love being able to contribute to a couple’s wedding day and it never fails to move me, to experience the joy and love that fills the church, to feel again how lucky I am to love and be loved. OH STOP, I really must be getting older. I’d better stop now before I make you nauseous…

Angst/

Summer reading, thinking & waiting

After a couple of weeks of what’s felt like full-on socialising in our sunny garden, I’m enjoying a quiet day alone catching up, which means giving my blogs a little TLC. On the subject of which, I was delighted to come across this observation in Virginia Woolf’s A Writer’s Diary, in the entry for January 20th 1919:

entry from V Woolf's 'A Writer's Diary'

… would VW say the same of blogging, I wonder? People sometimes ask me if blogging takes up a lot of time, but for me it has to be the fastest of writing jobs, because I confess I really don’t spend much time editing. I read it as I go along and sometimes delete entire passages, but the decision is usually made quickly, I don’t think too hard & long. I do try to pick up on typos or bits or grammatical clunkiness before hitting ‘publish’, but just as often things slip through. And I kind of like that -makes it more like regular speech I think. And I certainly wouldn’t want to miss out on any ‘diamonds of the dust heap’!

Submissions update

Poetry magazines seem to be having a (no doubt well-earned) summer hiatus in terms of dealing with submissions, and I haven’t started writing anything new in a few weeks. We should all be outside topping up our Vitamin D anyway. Here’s what are currently out to magazines:

3 poems out for 499 days (yes really  – I’ve sort of decided these are probably dead, and I’m aware of/sympathetic to the reason for the length, but there they are, still heading up the list with their ghostly, greyed-out presence)

4 poems out for 195 days (28 weeks) – patience is a virtue

4 poems out for 107 days (15 weeks) – OK, not tapping my foot yet

3 poems out for 68 days (10 weeks) – this one is tricky, as I asked to withdraw one of them on Submittable, but the system only allowed me to withdraw the whole lot, so I’m not sure if two of them are still under consideration or not. I haven’t resubmitted them elsewhere, just in case… which is probably a bit silly, but there you go.

3 poems out for 34 days (5 weeks) – it’s early yet

In addition I’ve got five individual poems out to competitions (a rather high number for me, but I suppose I was running out of suitable/available magazines to submit to) and three pamphlets out to competitions. One of these has been ‘long listed’ by Live Canon, which of course I’m very happy about, but there’s no telling when the final results will come, I suspect not before the autumn. Another pamphlet went to Templar Poetry for their I-Shots competition, the results of which were due (according to their website) by the end of June. However there are no results on the website, and I’ve not heard anything from them, although I have tried asking them nicely on Twitter. I’ve taken this to mean they’re not interested in my pamphlet, which is fine, and I’ve now sent another version of it elsewhere. However, when you pay a fee to enter a pamphlet competition (in this case £18 – and which I’m very happy to do by the way) I don’t think it’s too much to expect a simple email to say ‘sorry, not this time’ or whatever, or acknowledgement of a polite query. Am I being unreasonable?

Current reading

Lots of lovely stuff on the pile at the moment, alongside the aforementioned VW diary, and the recently re-discovered and excellent Feel Free, a collection of Zadie Smith essays, I’ve also got Vanitas by Ann Drysdale (Shoestring) which I’m reviewing for The Frogmore Papers, and two Smith Doorstop pamphlets recently given to me by Marion Tracy: The Topiary of Passchendale by Christopher North and Sleeve Catching Fire at Dawn by Madeleine Wurzburger (now there’s a TITLE!)

I’m also having a bit of a Camus moment. I wonder if the current state of the Western world is driving me to Absurdism? I think it’s taken me forty years to shake off the association of Camus with the horror of French A level and finally return to him as an adult. Anyway, I’ve read and re-read his strange little essay in ‘The sea close by’, and am looking forward to tackling The Myth of Sisyphus in a Penguin ‘Great Ideas’ edition with a very satisfying cover design featuring embossing. All adds to the sense of anticipation!

Books on the reading pile July 2019

 

 

 

 

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Poems, schmoems. Couple acceptances, a bit of rejection but hey.

Well hello! I am feeling epic. Not because I’ve suddenly won some dough or got a call from Faber. No!

Health update (feel free to skip!)

You may recall my moaning on about my bad back or whatever. It seems to be something else entirely that’s been sapping me of energy and slowly seizing up my joints to the point of what felt like Permanent Old Ladydom, the mystery has I think been solved. It looks like I have a condition with the important-sounding name of Polymyalgia Rheumatica, which nobody is supposed to get before they hit at least 70 apparently. So for various reasons I don’t fit the profile, except that my brother has also had it, and if he hadn’t said ‘your symptoms sound just like mine’, I would never have been diagnosed. So THANK YOU that bro of mine. The key facts for me to take in are 1) no-one knows what causes it (funny how that’s often the case when it’s a condition mostly affecting women) 2) there is no cure  and 3) one can only wait for it to go into remission, which takes at least 2 years.

But the good news is that there’s a drug that suppresses the symptoms, and for once in my life I have given in Big Time to Big Pharma. Within hours of taking the magic pills I felt about 20 years younger. I am honestly not exaggerating. I am Lazarus. I can function again, and it feels like I’ve got a second chance at life – more so even than after having cancer. So here I am taking a long-term, systemic drug after always saying I never would. I accept there may be side effects but I will manage them. I’m sleeping right through the night. I’m starting to write again. It’s even kicked me and Nick into a new resolve to eat low-carb and take better care of ourselves. So all good.

Quick submissions summary

Poems currently out, to magazines: 11, competitions: just the Bridport (ha) and two pamphlets. One of the pamphlets was ‘long listed’ by Live Canon.

Three more poems rejected by Shearsman, two pamphlets sunk without trace in competitions.

Three poems accepted by Morphrog, one ‘highly commended’ in the Ver Poets comp.

Recent readings

No full readings lately but I did go to the launch of Magma 74 last week and read my ‘hospitality management’ poem. It was a really good night – great to hear many of the poems read, and a chance to catch up with several poet friends including Jayne Stanton, Alison Brackenbury and Hilaire (who read very calmly from London Undercurrents at only five minutes’ notice!), say hello to others who I know either slightly or met for the first time, such as Maura Dooley, Carole Bromley and Stuart Charlesworth, as well as editors Pauline Sewards and Benedict Newbery (a fellow Live Canon longlistee). The venue in Exmouth Market was fun – with a very high but tiny stage. Here are a few pics, not sure who took the medley of pics that appeared on Twitter:

Readers at the launch of Magma 74

 

Here are Benedict and Pauline doing the intros (a bit fuzzy, sorry):

Launch of Magma 74

Two days later I took a wee trip to St Albans, just north of London outside the M25, and it was actually a very easy journey by train  as there was no need to change in London. I was a bit ashamed I’d never been there before, as I like visiting cathedrals and cathedral cities where there’s often a lovely historic vibe.

I was there for the Ver Poets competition readings, so I got to read my HC poem ‘Next best thing’ and hear all the winning poems, some of which were read by the poets themselves. It was a lovely surprise to see Peter Raynard there, as I hadn’t realised St Albans is actually his manor.

Adjudicator Kathryn Maris gave a really thoughtful and kind introduction. At the end, a cheque was presented to a lady from the OLLIE Foundation, a charity that provides funding for suicide prevention skills training for any individual or community that wants it. I wasn’t aware that proceeds from the competition were given to charity in this way, and was impressed. Personally, I think if this was made more explicit in the promo material it may encourage even more entries.

I don’t have any pics of the event but I’m looking forward to reading The Book of Jobs, Kathryn Maris’s first full collection, a copy of which I picked up while I was there.

Oh and here are a couple of photos I took of the Abbey:

St Albans Abbey

st-albans-abbey

 

 

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New reading: Magma 74 and the Laureate’s Choice Anthology

Laureate's Choice Anthology and Magma 74

The new edition of Magma, edited by Benedict Newbery and Pauline Sewards, is dedicated to ‘work’, a subject close to my heart. It’s always puzzled me why there appears to be so little written about traditional (or otherwise) workplaces, given how many hours of many people’s lives are given over to work (in the sense of ‘earning a living’, although of course the Magma editors were hoping for plenty of poems about ‘work’ in its wider sense.)

Sarah Mnatzaganian‘s ‘Laying up’ appeared to me with its rich nautical vocabulary (‘…until our halves meet / and lie without stretch or slack, / my luff to your leech, head to your foot, / clew to your tack, throat to your peak’). I loved the evocation of a mass laying off (a subject I’ve tried to write about myself) by Fokkina McDonnell, ‘The empty hours’, with its matter-of-factness capturing the reality of having to stay dispassionate when tasked with an uncomfortable job (‘If we’d stayed at the Bridge Hotel, Kendal, staff / would have recognised us from last time, / would’ve made phone calls last night.’)  Steve Kendall‘s ‘Emotional Labour’ beautifully captures that feeling of doing what is essentially a meaningless job, with random rules and procedures (‘I must send it to whoever’s desk is equidistant from / the first addressee and Emma’), embroidering one’s thoughts with whatever it takes to make it through the day. I think my own poem comes under the category of ‘a bit offputting’, with its crossed out words and slightly odd title (‘Hospitality Management (Diploma) Enrol Now £2,400’). I hope it doesn’t put everyone off reading it though. I know I can be a bit impatient with this sort of thing, rather like my first thoughts about Shaun Carter‘s ‘<title> The office sound in broken code </title>’ – reading through broken code is a bit too close to home for me!

Magma‘s featured poet in this issue is Tom Sastry, who seems to be having a bit of a moment. He also pops up in The Laureate’s Choice Anthology (smith|doorstop), a selection of work chose by Carol Ann Duffy during her tenure as Poet Laureate. As a side note, I did first hear about the ‘Laureate’s Choice’ from Carol Ann when I was on a course with her and Gillian Clarke at Ty Newydd back in 2013. She asked me then (as well as a couple of others) to send her my pamphlet manuscript, for consideration. I didn’t really understand what it was about, but I sent her it anyway. Nothing came of it, but David Borrott, who was on the same course, made the cut. So when this anthology came through my door I was only a TINY BIT bitter!)

But back to Tom Sastry – his poems did rather jump out at me for their originality and intrigue. I loved ‘Difference’, a telling snapshot of a relationship running on parallel lines, the sadness of ‘The Office’ (‘You can bring the name of a bird/ in from the outside, if you like. You can bring its call/ on your ringtone…’ and the simple beauty of ‘Waking’ (‘I dreamt that we were older. It didn’t matter at all.’)

I enjoyed a huge number of the poems in this anthology. Just flicking through again I’m reminded of a few:  Yvonne Reddick‘s ‘The Bait’, Mark Pajak‘s ‘Spitting Distance’, David Borrott‘s ‘felicitous blending of figure and landscape’ and ‘Wolf Fell’, John Fennelly’s ‘Those flowers’.

The anthology doesn’t have a foreword, which is a shame, as I’d like to have read something by Carol Ann talking about the thinking behind the project and her selections. Some of the poets are clearly newcomers, whereas others I would describe as established already,  with full collections and awards to their name. It’s true that they were picked up over a five-year period – the first Laureate’s Choice collections were published in 2015. Nevertheless it makes for an interesting mix of work.

The Laureate’s Choice Anthology is available now from The Poetry Business, £10.

I’ll be reading (and possibly explaining a bit about my poem) at the London launch of Magma 74 on Thursday 6th July, 6.30pm at Exmouth Market, alongside many fine poets including Lorraine Mariner and Alison Brackenbury. Perhaps see you there?

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Look what I found! Virginia Woolf’s ‘A Writer’s Diary’

Virginia Woolf A Writer's Diary

… Fourth Impression (1965) with a foreword by Leonard Woolf. Hogarth Press! Original dust jacket bearing Vanessa Bell’s design!

I found it at Much Ado Books in Alfriston, well worth a visit if you’re ever in the area. It’s housed in a range of quirky buildings set back off the road in its own front garden. I did find the plethora of notices rather off-putting  (a number of which suggest one is guilty until proven innocent – PLEASE LEAVE LARGE BAGS AT THE COUNTER BEFORE GOING UPSTAIRS, PLEASE RESPECT OUR GARDEN etc) but I can only suppose this quiet, well-do-do village must have its fair share of book shop-lifters and vandals. What a shame.

much ado books alfriston

Anyway, I look forward to sharing extracts and thoughts on Woolf’s reading and writing process with you here from time to time.

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Currently reading: Kaminsky, Hickman

Ilya Kaminsky Deaf RepublicIlya Kaminsky’s Deaf Republic came through the post from the Poetry Book Society, swathed in accolades. Looking at the title my first thought was of Raymond Antrobus’s The Perseverance, also a PBS Choice, but in fact the two books are very different animals. (I’m a bit sad I don’t have The Perseverance to hand as I gave it to a friend, so can only go on my memory of it.)

While The Perseverance struck me as intensely personal, focusing on the poet’s D/deaf experience and upbringing, Deaf Republic has the feel of a parable, or a Greek tragedy. It’s set during a war, in an occupied town, where the death of a child incites the townspeople to passive resistance which takes the form of feigned deafness. It’s met with brutal retaliation. We follow the fates of two protagonists as events escalate, while the townspeople grow increasingly divided. It’s a stark and bloody tale, made all the more sinister (for me anyway!) by the role of puppets. There’s a horrific dreamlike quality to much of the action. Reading the book felt like a similar experience to reading D M Thomas’s The White Hotel. 

Right from the opening poem ‘We Lived Happily during the War’ the reader is invited to examine their own conscience. Is this happening now, in our own society? How are we responding?

[…] I was

in my bed, around my bed America

was falling: invisible house by invisible house by invisible house–

I took a chair outside and watched the sun.

I found the closing poem ‘In a Time of Peace’ rather hammered home the point. But not enough to detract from the power of the book.

On another track entirely is my current ‘book at bedtime’, She-Merchants, Buccaneers and Gentlewomen: British Women in India by Katie Hickman. She tells the stories of women who left for a new life in India at a time when it must have been an absolutely extraordinary thing to do; the first accounts of such journeys date from as early as 1617. Clearly the sea journey alone must have tested the sturdiest resolve.

It is hard to imagine what resilience it must have taken to survive nineteen months at sea. […] Sea captains were reluctant to take female passengers at all and often confined them to the very lowest decks, where it was usual to house the terrified horses, dogs and other animals. Treated like so much livestock themselves, these early travellers were  obliged to endure living conditions in which there was little or no fresh air or light, and ceilings so low they were never able to stand upright. … in a feeble attempt to allow the air to circulate, women were forbidden to hang up blankets or linen as screens during the day. […] Trips onto the deck to breath some sea air or take some exercise, were often seriously limited, even forbidden by some captains.

I’m completely gripped by these female pioneers. Many of their stories are so fantastical they read like fiction. However, Maya Jasanoff in The Guardian has pointed out that plenty more well-rounded and scholarly books have told these women’s stories before, and claims that ‘She-Merchants’ “for all its good intentions, does for imperial history a bit what a package tour does for travel: it lets readers glimpse an ‘exotic’ location without requiring them to think too much about the people who actually live there.” Ouch. I’m still enjoying the book, but it’s useful to bear this opinion in mind.

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Quick! These submissions windows close tomorrow (31st May)

I’m just updating the quarterly poetry magazines submissions windows list, but it won’t be going out for a couple of days, so just a quick alert that the following windows close TOMORROW and they all accept subs either by email or Submittable (check individual websites) so you have just over 24 hours to get something in…

B O D Y

Butcher’s Dog

Coast to Coast to Coast

Envoi

Hotel

Strix

Under the Radar

PLUS, if you’ve got a prize-winning poem on your hands then the Frogmore Poetry Prize also closes tomorrow…

Good luck 🙂

 

Angst/

Struggling a bit

Blogging and writing have been a bit off my radar lately as I am still struggling with a back problem which makes sitting or standing equally uncomfortable. But in brief:

  1. I’m still hoping to get my quarterly poetry magazine windows update out later this week. Thank you for all the suggestions gathered via Twitter and email. If you’re not on the emailing list and would like to be please let me know in the comments.
  2. I thought this was an interesting post on Frontier Poetry, in which editors talk about the business of selecting poems for publication.
  3. I’ve booked for, and am looking forward to Kim Moore’s Poetry Carousel in the Lakes in December (brrr!) after having heard glowing reports of these events from poet friend Judith.
  4. I’ve got 20 poems out to mags at the moment (some for over a year) so am probably due a few rejections soon, but who knows maybe the odd acceptance. I haven’t written anything new in a while so whatever comes back will probably go out fairly promptly once I’ve done my usual “is it actually crap?” assessment.

That’s all for now folks – off to the physio shortly so am trying to stay positive! I hope you’re well, and writing, and enjoying the (coolish) summer. Here’s a funny thing I saw recently in Alfriston – compare your height to those of various writers. I’m somewhere in between Will Shakespeare and Virginia Woolf.

heights of writers