Category: Blog

Oh hello! Quick catch up

What was I doing all last month? Mostly singing (I passed my Grade 8 with merit – hurrah!), the odd party (friends with birthdays and/or launches), gardening (what was possible with the scaffolding up), executor stuff for my sister, making jam & chutney from all the rhubarb, and seeing an old friend from my adidas/Nike days who was over from the States and came to see me for a day. So a LOT of excitement. As regards poetry:

A few disappointments – the usual rejections, also my collection is somewhat in mothballs at the moment for various reasons, and may not see the light of day after all. But I’m oddly upbeat about it. I feel I’ve kind of moved on and am working on new strands. I’m bad at feeling pleased about poems for very long, they go stale on me and I just can’t bring myself to stick by them. This happens even if a poem is published somewhere – in fact especially so. I hope this is normal. Anyway, I’m sure at least some of the poems will find their way into a pamphlet or collection at some point.

On the positive side – I’ve re-joined the Poetry Book Society. I didn’t renew for several years, for various reasons. I still don’t really like the magazine they send out, and the ‘selection’ process, with different selectors every season or so, does seem to mean a lot of the same poets popping up on a regular basis. However, I do need to widen my reading in a more systematic way. It feeds into my writing but also into the podcast. We’re just coming up to our Season 2 finale, in which I interview Fiona Sampson. Fiona got me thinking about many things, for example I was inspired by the way she spoke about her tenure as editor of Poetry Review. So I’m already fired up about Season 3 of Planet Poetry.

Also positive – Richard Skinner has taken a poem of mine for the next issue of 14, a welcome acceptance email after a tranche of NOs (thank you, thank you!) Plus I have a poem out in the latest edition of Prole, and in the Autumn I’ve a poem in the 100th edition of The Frogmore Papers.

And of course I’m still plugging away at the list of poetry magazines and their submissions windows. The big quarterly update was last month, and I also send out end of the month reminders. I’ve got a good list of subscribers and people are very appreciative. So now I’m thinking about what else I can offer. Watch this space.

Currently inspired by…

Writing inspiration comes in all shapes and sizes I suppose. I was recently at a Charleston Festival event (Sheila Hancock in conversation with Joan Bakewell – combined age 182 and a huge inspiration/advertisement for a good old age). But I digress. In the bookshop marquee I was casually browsing and came across a single copy of a book I decided I had to have.

cover of T S Eliot book

Now I’m no huge Eliot fan but I do dip into the Four Quartets every now and then. I’ve never got to grips with The Waste Land, but I’m a sucker for manuscripts that show different versions, crossings out etc. It’s like getting into the poet’s head. And this edition shows every page, with annotations from both Ezra Pound and Valerie Eliot. It’s extraordinary. And I’m now enjoying going back to the poem armed with more insight into its genesis.

Meanwhile our Planet Poetry guests continue to challenge (and delight) me – in the last episode I talked with the effervescent Caleb Parkin and his excellent book This Fruiting Body, and my most recent interview was with Fiona Sampson. I admit I was nervous, interviewing a poet with such a formidable CV (29 books for starters). But Fiona was delightful and fascinating. I’m not sure yet when the interview will ‘air’ but it’ll be worth listening, I guarantee.

A few near-misses lately. I was pleasantly surprised to find I had two poems on the Plough Prize shortlist this year, judged by Roger McGough (one of my early heroes!). Incidentally, the winner was Di Slaney, a former Planet Poetry guest and an editor who deserves to be better known as A POET. Then, the other day I decided to query PN Review again, as it’s been so long since I submitted there, and this time I got a prompt reply that although ‘no’, was very encouraging.

All this is good grist to the mill and keeps me thinking about poetry, even if I’m not yet writing much new, but that will come. In the meantime it’s singing that’s my main concern, having signed up to take Grade 8 at the end of this month – gulp! Now excuse me as I go over the YouTube to watch yet more tutorials about ‘how to get rid of breathy tone’ etc. Nothing like a bit of last minute cramming to turn me from lowly choir member into Dame Felicity Lott, tee hee.

Chewing the cud & going off-piste

A small window has opened up between sinus headaches for me to write an overdue blog post… the cold-y sinus-y stuff prevented me from going to Hastings Stanza last week (BOO), but I still have plenty of positive things to report so please don’t leave yet…

The Planet Poetry podcast has kept my busy lately, I think Peter and I have settled into a relaxed schedule whereby we try to produce a new episode every three weeks but if life gets in the way then four is no biggie. It’s very satisfying to research possible new guests, read their work and prepare questions we want to ask them. Then there’s the editing and then recording all the other segments of the ‘show’ in which Peter and I chew the cud and usually go a bit off-piste (interesting mix of metaphors there, are we Tyrolean cows?) If you’re a listener, thank you! We’re certainly chuffed with the quality of guests we’ve managed to ‘bag’. Last week it was J O Morgan. Apart from numbers of downloads, there’s not really any way of measuring the pod’s ‘success’ or otherwise. Ideally we’d like to get mentioned on the BBC Radio Podcast Hour, so if you have any contacts there, let me know.

I’m at a slight hiatus as regards writing. I’ve stopped fiddling with the ‘collection’ poems for now, having had some very useful feedback. Now I need/want to move onto new material. I’m doing a fair bit of background reading at the moment. The other day I was deep into an article about lighting and ventilation in British offices from 1950 to 1985. I know! But it’s actually very interesting. Then there’s the book on Roman Britain. What on earth is on the boil here? We’ll just have to wait and see. I have booked myself onto a untutored week at the Garsdale Retreat in September, during which I want to be planning and writing for the next book.

As for submissions, two poems are still out (since December 2021) to a magazine that said they were ‘still under consideration’ in March. Do I give up now? I’ve also got a few poems out to comps, and had a poem accepted by Prole. It’s a pleasure to have work in Prole – I always enjoy reading the magazine, plus I’m a big admirer of their attitude/ethics – open, fair, considerate, good communication, hard working. And yet there’s nothing po-faced or pretentious about the mag. Hurray!

At last, some (a)live poetry events

Having missed three Hastings Stanza meetings due to a choir commitment, next month I’m so looking forward to workshopping with everyone again around a table and the odd cup of tea or glass of wine. We restarted face to face meetings last autumn, and after all the months of having to ‘meet’ online it was such a joy. Actual, live events are just that, aren’t they? (A)LIVE. The same goes for live poetry readings – there are two lovely launch events coming up: first John McCullough is launching his new book Panic Response (Penned in the Margins) in Brighton next week, guaranteed to be a love-in for his many friends and fans, then in June poet friend Sarah Barnsley has very kindly asked me to be one her support acts at an informal launch of her brilliant collection, The Thoughts (Smith Doorstop).

In between, there’s a Needlewriters evening coming up on April 14th. I’ll have the privilege of ’emcee-ing’ this one, and hearing the excellent Peter Raynard whose new book Manland is forthcoming from Nine Arches in July.

Online blues

Like most people I put up with Zoom readings and events when it was the only thing allowed, and I hadn’t realised how much I loathed it until I started to contemplate the horror of online poetry events becoming a permanent thing. The ‘Zoom factor’ is having a detrimental effect on my decision about whether to return to the University of York to finish my MA later this year: as long as there is any chance whatsoever that seminars will be moved online, I can’t honestly contemplate returning.

Ironic really: twenty-five years ago, as an internet newbie I was basking in the excitement of what the Web had to offer, online for hours every night (this was in the US, where it was free!) and making friends across the globe (yes, actual people – some of whom I got to know in real life). I then spent the best part of twenty years working in online marketing and speaking, teaching, advocating and writing books about the power (and brilliance) of the internet for business, for communities and for communication generally.

And now? After nearly three months ‘resting’ from Twitter, I’m wondering just how much I missed it, if at all. In two days’ time it will be my 15th anniversary of joining. But the reasons I used to love it have gone, and I watch it being slowly poisoned by human behaviour and commercial interests. However, having ditched Facebook several years ago (with no regrets), I’m not about to jump ship from Twitter. But I will be carrying out some changes so I can enjoy it more.

Latest news about the collection

Version three of the manuscript is out the door and with the second of the wise poets who are helping me with ordering, culling, titling and general confidence. I finally have a working title that I think I like and will work. Huzzah! (No, that’s not it!) Meanwhile one of my newer poems has been taken by The Alchemy Spoon, and I have a dozen or so others out to other mags. I think I’m back in the submissions saddle.

A little tough love for poetry magazines

Today and yesterday have been spreadsheet days – visiting poetry magazines websites and trying to dig out the info that I (and anyone wishing to submit there) needs. I finally got it finished and sent out this morning. I think I’ve been doing this for four, maybe five years, and what started out as an extension of my own record-keeping has turned into A Thing. In December I was on the verge of giving it up, but thanks to the lovely donations I’ve had through Buy me a Coffee it now feels more like a proper job, and I feel better about it.

It does amaze me how poetry magazines all seem to do their own thing as regards submission guidelines, in particular the admin associated with handling submissions. Some (a very small number these days) want you to send poems only by post.  Some use Submittable or similar, others declare that the cost of such a thing is SO prohibitive that it would cost more than their total magazine sales for an entire year. Some want your submission as an attachment to email, others are convinced that attachments are the devil’s work, and that poems should be in the body of an email. Some charge a modest fee for submissions, usually waived for anyone who says they can’t afford it; others state they wouldn’t dream of ever charging someone for reading and considering their poems for publication. Some have set up simple autoresponders so that poets know their email has at least arrived. Others refuse to respond at all, unless (often many months later) they decide they want your work. And perhaps most mysterious of all, some spare their worst vitriol for people who simultaneously submit, others actively encourage it.

Presumably all these directions have one aim: to make it easier for editors to deal with submissions. But why all this reinventing of the wheel? Surely poetry magazine editors could share and compare amongst themselves what has worked and what hasn’t, and some kind of ‘best practice’ would emerge. But that would mean a certain amount of ‘oh, I hadn’t thought of doing it that way’, or ‘oh yes we tried that six years ago and it didn’t work, but I can see how technology has improved so we could try it again’ or ‘oh I can see how if we change that it might help us grow our readership…’ thinking.

I see that more and more magazines are in trouble: closed for a year or more while they deal with piles of submissions, getting more and more aggressive in an effort to discourage wrongdoing (‘any work sent outside of the reading window WILL BE DELETED WITHOUT BEING READ’). On more than one occasion I’ve approached editors of magazines I admire, but that are clearly struggling to cope with submissions, and offered to help them put in place some really simple, cheap/free systems that would benefit both them and those submitting. Or even offered to be a reader, to help reduce the slush pile, or just help with the dreadful feeling of overwhelm. I have never had a reply, not even ‘thanks but no thanks.’ I’m no expert at running a magazine. But I know about marketing, systems, time management, delegating and customer service.

I understand that running a poetry magazine is often one person’s dream, and they want to do it their way. But if the ship is sinking, why not take an offer of help, however modest? More importantly, why not approach (or even just observe) how other journals do it? Not everything is down to funding. Some of the smallest publications have methods worth emulating.

It looks like this is turning into a rant aimed at magazine editors. I don’t mean it to be – some of the nicest people I know edit poetry magazines! And I wouldn’t get so exercised about it if I didn’t care. But I’m asking the question generally. There are many magazines doing a brilliant job; I just don’t understand why there aren’t more.

Nature sleeps. Thank goodness for art

What is it about January? You have to trust that living things are asleep and not dead. The garden is brown and damp. In January I examine any magnolia tree I come across, looking for buds: signs of life. Even though days are getting longer it happens so slowly. Generating every extra minute of daylight seems a huge effort for Gaia.

On the other hand, I was in the British Museum recently looking at the Parthenon marbles, and I was so struck with the energy and verve that still shines from these 2,500 year old carvings. Despite the difficult relationship between humankind and the natural world, I’m uplifted by the way that the creative energy of humans channelled into art can endure, and still have the power to amaze and inspire people hundreds, if not thousands of years into the future.

Here’s a bit of joy in a dark month: this evening is the online launch of Sarah Barnsley‘s excellent first collection, The Thoughts (Smith Doorstop). I’m a bit biased as Sarah is a good friend and a Telltale Press buddy – I’m proud to say we published her pamphlet The Fire Station in 2015. The Thoughts is compelling, and a bit of a page-turner (if poetry can be described that way); it’s formally inventive, sometimes a painful read and sometimes painfully funny. I’m so pleased to see Sarah’s name up in lights. She’s a fine poet and it’s so well deserved that she’s been picked up by Smith Doorstop. Buy, buy!

Moving at a glacial speed (that January feeling) are of course poetry magazine submissions. I’ve had three poems out to a magazine for 120 days, four for 68 days. On a more positive note, Mike Bartholomew-Briggs at London Grip accepted a poem from me in under a fortnight, which cheered me up no end – it’ll be in the March edition. Also, the Mary Evans Picture Library have just published my poem ‘Beautiful Head’ on its ‘Poems and Pictures’ blog. The blog comprises a large archive of work by many excellent poets. Do check it out if you haven’t already, and they welcome contributions by the way.

 

Thinking about poem and book titles

How easily do poem titles come to you? How about book/pamphlet titles?

I’ve always found titles quite hard to come up with. I’ve been through all kind of exercises to try to break the back of it. I look at other people’s titles to see which ones jump out at me (or not). And I remember Carol-Ann Duffy once reading the title of a poem and exclaiming ‘Now that’s a title that gives me confidence in the poet!’

I know there have been various trends over the years: the Very Long Intriguing And/or Witty Title is still popular, (especially when it comes to competition entries) although I wonder if it’s waning. I’ve done a few of those myself but can’t help wondering if the title can end up being more interesting than the poem.

The good old basic single-word title is surely a classic. But the first line had better be AMAZING if the title is ‘Daisies’ or ‘Evening’ or whatever.

How about the first-line-as-title? I confess I quite like this arrangement and have used it a fair bit – in the sense of the title being the actual first line, so that the poem runs on from the title (rather than repeating the first line, although this is also possible of course).  But it doesn’t suit every poem.

And what about collection titles? I know we’re commonly advised to use the title of one of the poems, or use a phrase or a line from one of the poems. Sometimes Very Long Intriguing And/or Witty Titles are more memorable. When it’s come to pamphlets, I’ve always gone with the title of one of the poems, with the exception of ‘Why?’ which I wanted to call ‘Was it the Diet Coke?’ but that didn’t work out, for fear of a certain mega-company based in Atlanta coming down on us like a pantechnicon of canned drinks.

But now I’m working on a full collection, I’m coming up against two issues. The first is not having a collection title. None of the individual poem titles feel substantial enough to carry the whole book. And yet without at least a decent working title, it’s hard to refer to it and even think of it as an (almost) fully-fledged collection.

My second issue is that I have the urge to change quite a few of the poem titles, mostly because I think that will help them to ‘speak’ to each other in the context of the book. I suppose that illustrates how unwedded I am to my first choices of titles. Perhaps I will change them temporarily, to help with the ordering and also to help me have an idea of the book’s themes firmly in my mind (which will help with selling it/talking about it). And maybe the new titles will stick, maybe not.

Either way, it all feels a little seat-of-pants. I’ll let you know how I get on. And as ever, I’d love to hear how you’ve approached this, if you’ve had similar dilemmas.

PS one of my New Year’s Resolutions was to have a break from Twitter. After nearly 15 years, I find it changed beyond recognition. I haven’t cancelled my account yet, but I’m not active there at the moment.

So this is Christmas, and what have I done?

Oh no! I can see I haven’t posted for several weeks, has there really been nothing to talk about? Let me see…

First of all, nothing to do with poetry but my Covid experience was pretty mild in the end. So as far I’m concerned the jabs were worth it. Plus we’ve made it to Christmas without having to cancel a single concert, which is a result, and in fact I’ve just got back from a bout of rustic carol singing on the outside terrace of the fantastic Chaseley Trust. So a big yay for Christmas.

Meanwhile, perhaps you recall my saying I wouldn’t be sending out any more poems to magazines for a while? Well, after putting out my quarterly spreadsheet I was in a ‘sending out’ mood so I confess I did toss some poems in the direction of one or two publications. I’m testing the water a bit with some new work. I tried two poems on a Canadian publication called Parentheses – submitted at around 6pm, rejected by 7am the next morning. Now that’s what I call emphatic! There was no suggestion they would welcome any more, so hey ho. Other work is still out to various places, and I have a few more items itching to go out. Maybe in the new year. On a positive note, one poem has been solicited by the Mary Evans Picture Library ‘Pictures and Poems’ blog (forthcoming), and another will be coming out in the Frogmore Papers 100th edition next year.

I’ve really appreciated my Hastings Stanza workshopping cohorts this year and was particularly thrilled that we were able to start meeting again face to face. What a difference it makes. I’ve developed such an aversion to meetings on Zoom. I can just about tolerate Zoom readings, but if my course at York in 2022-23 turns into a permanently online thing then I can’t see myself returning.

My reading habits have definitely mutated in the last two years, in that I’m reading more novels, in particular historical crime – it started with Eco’s The Name of the Rose which I became a bit obsessed with, and then I had to read everything by CJ Sansom. On the poetry front I’m currently reading Deformations by Sasha Dugdale in preparation for interviewing Sasha for the Planet Poetry podcast, and the book is stimulating all kinds of ideas in me. I’ve also got Sasha’s The Red House on my ‘to read’ pile, from her back catalogue. Then there’s Myra Schneider’s Siege and Symphony which I’m reviewing for the Frogmore Papers, and latest copies of The Rialto and Poetry calling me. Recently swung onto my radar is the work of Alexander Pope – I’ll probably bore you with more about that in 2022.

The newest episode of Planet Poetry is in the bag and coming out tomorrow. It’s a Christmas special featuring an interview with Di Slaney (Candlestick Press) and Sharon Black (Pindrop Press), both of them poets as well as publishers, talking about their writing and their publishing practice. Peter Kenny and I are proud of the fact that we are now 5 episodes into our second season – I think that makes us veterans in poetry podcasting terms! We’ve already got some brilliant guests lined up for 2022 so if you haven’t already, please do subscribe ‘wherever you get your podcasts’, as they say.

That’s it – a very Happy Christmas to you and yours, and every good wish for the new year. A huge THANK YOU for reading and commenting on this blog, supporting the submissions spreadsheet and my other various projects – I am truly grateful.

Notes from the sick bay

“Ah! There is nothing like staying at home, for real comfort” – Jane Austen (allegedly). Although she didn’t have to endure the harassment of up to five phone calls a day ‘reminding’ her to self-isolate. Perhaps it’s assumed that if you have Covid, you’ve lost your memory and wits as well as your sense of smell.

Reader, I have contracted it. All for a few luscious days away on my birthday, not a moment of which I regret. We went to Bristol on the train, revisited Nick’s old university haunts, explored the Georgian terraces and the harbourside, had a lovely day in Bath, ate and drank well. We’re now two days off finishing our ten-day quarantine. We’re both feeling tons better than this time last week, even the sense of smell is gradually creeping back (starting with smells I’m not keen on, like coffee, maddeningly!)

Royal Crescent, Bath
Royal Crescent, Bath

Someone on Twitter commented that ten days enforced isolation gives you all the time in the world to write – but frankly I haven’t really felt like it. I have done some reading and research in preparation for the forthcoming collection. At the moment the difference between a planning a pamphlet and planning/producing a full collection feels like the proverbial yawning chasm. I can do this! And yet I keep printing off my notes, usually with headings that might motivate me, like ‘Why I’m interested in writing about X’, and ‘Key themes and identifying the gaps’, then staring at them with nothing to add. Meanwhile all the new poems sit there looking up at me like baleful dogs desperate for a walk. I try to tell myself they have promise, even though they seem tired or lacking in originality. And then I go back to reading, avoiding Twitter or wondering if I need to just do a bit of yoga.

Woops, this has gone a bit negative – apologies! There have been some good things too – last week I really enjoyed Live Canon‘s performance of the ‘Rime of the Ancient Mariner’, not a poem I was familiar with apart from the odd quote. Apparently they plan to tackle Paradise Lost next – yikes! I struggled with Milton at school, although I suspect that was just part of my general immaturity and lack of stamina. Far easier to get to grips with a Ted Hughes poem about a pig than hundreds of pages of 17th century hellfire.

St Mary Redcliffe, Bristol
Before the ‘Mariner’: here’s where Coleridge married Sara Fricker in 1795. St Mary Redcliffe, Bristol

Actually I do have something big to celebrate/express, and that’s my gratitude to all the lovely email subscribers who bought me a cup of tea as a thank you for the quarterly magazines submissions updates. I was thrilled and touched by all the support.

Right… onwards and upwards.

Readings, decisions, fresh starts

I’m feeling very uplifted by real-life in-person poetry events. Last week in Lewes was the launch of three Frogmore Press publications: The Naming by Jeremy Page, Marion Tracy’s Evidence of Love and Neil Gower’s Meet me in Palermo. Strong readings all round and a cautiously-convivial atmosphere.  Fast on this comes tomorrow’s Needlewriters event, our first live readings since January 2020, featuring Jeremy Page and two prose writers Alice Owens and Anna Hayward.

Peter Kenny’s and my podcast Planet Poetry has restarted, the first episode of Season 2 featuring the wonderful American poet Kim Addonizio. There are several interviews currently in the bag, so it will be great to see how listeners respond. I was a bit sad not to see Planet Poetry in a recent round-up of poetry podcasts in Poetry News, and it was a kick up the bum to finish our new website and make sure it’s Google-friendly. Although having worked in online marketing for decades I find it hard to get enthusiastic about keywords and search terms any more. Anyway, those lovely folks at the Poetry Society offered to give our Season two opener a plug on Twitter, which was nice.

Although I’m on a year’s leave of absence from the University of York, I’m actually still plugged in to Dante and also Chaucer these days, and find myself referring to notes I was making on my core course module last year. I’m loving Mary Jo Bang’s translation of Purgatorio, incorporating characters and language from the present day, although I suspect it might be sniffed at in some scholarly circles!

As regards submissions to magazines, I’ve decided to step away from them for bit. I have half a dozen poems out at the moment, but I’m not sending any more for now. I have a few reasons for this.

Firstly, I don’t need to, in the sense that I have a track record of publication now, and I’ve nothing to prove to myself or anyone else. I think I’ve found my level. It would have been nice to be have published in The Poetry Review or Granta, but it’s OK to accept that it’s not going to happen. I could kill myself trying to write the ‘right’ sort of stuff, or I could write what I want to write, and enjoy honing it as best I can.

Secondly (related to the first point), I have a publisher for my first collection. I don’t have the collection yet, but I have the freedom to complete it, knowing it will have a home. This is a very privileged position to be in and I want to enjoy the moment, not fret about why Publication A, B or C don’t want any of the individual poems. Plenty of high profile poets have told about how the individual poems in their (successful) collections were consistently rejected by magazines. Or even that they never submitted them to magazines.

I can’t swear that I won’t submit the odd poem here and there, but I’ll be very happy not to be constantly putting my work up for possible rejection. I think the course at York has opened my eyes/mind to a lot of things. Perhaps a leave of absence makes the heart grow fonder – I’m starting to look forward to going back, which is quite a turnaround.