It’s been a while since I checked submissions windows. I realise a few have just closed (e.g. The North – you have to be sharp-eyed to get in there!), but here are some that are currently open…
Agenda – the website says it’s currently open, and you have submit via email, and there are very specific house style rules. They say they aim for a 12-week turnaround, and after that time it’s OK to submit elsewhere.
The Interpreter’s House – open until the end of June. Submit by email. They ‘prefer not to receive simultaneous submissions’ and previous contributors are asked to wait out three issues before submitting again. I rather like this and wish some other magazines would stipulate it, as it would prevent certain people from flooding every issue of some mags with their stuff. Just saying.
Under the Radar – now open until June 30th – via Submittable.
Long Poem Magazine – open until June 30th for poems that are at least 75 lines long ‘but not book length’. Submit by email.
For a list of some UK magazines which are open to submissions all year, see my post from last year.
A few competition deadlines coming up
All details are provided in good faith, but I can’t guarantee I’ve got them all correct – please go to the competition page to check and to read the rules, cut off dates etc.
Mslexia Women’s Poetry Competition – Judge Sinead Morrissey. Prizes £2,000, £400, £200. Entry fee £7 per poem. Deadline 19th June. Is it just me or does the ‘women only’ rule feel a little anachronistic in this age of greater understanding of gender fluidity, cis vs trans women and so forth? Just saying. Mslexia are also holding their annual Pamphlet competition which has the same deadline.
The McLellan Poetry Prize – Judge Maura Dooley. Prize awarded by the Arran Theatre and Arts Trust as part of the annual McLellan Arts Festival – winners are invited up to the Isle of Arran for the prize giving in September. Prizes: £1000, £300, £100, plus 6 commendations of £25. Entry fee: £5 for the first poem, £4 thereafter. Deadline 21st June.
Prole Pamphlet Competition – Judge Fiona Pitt-Kiethley. This is Prole Magazine’s first pamphlet competition, for collections up to 35 pages. The winner will receive £50 and 15 copies of the pamphlet. Entry fee £12. Deadline 30th June.
Live Canon International Poetry Competition – Judge Clare Pollard. One prize of £1,000, plus £100 for a poet ‘living, studying or working in the London Borough of Greenwich’. Shame it can’t be extended to poets born and bred in the (ahem!) Royal Borough of Greenwich, because that would make me eligible. Oh well. Entry fee £6. Deadline 1st July.
Ambit Summer Poetry Competition – Judge George Szirtes. Prizes £500, £250, £100. Entry fee is £6 per poem. Deadline 15th July.
Winchester Poetry Prize – Judge Sarah Howe. Prizes £1,000, £500, £250. Entry fee is £5 for first poem, £4 for subsequent poems. Deadline 31st July.
And with a little more time to prepare…
The Manchester Poetry Prize – judges Adam O’Riordan, Mona Arshi & Pascale Petit. £10,000 prize for the best portfolio of three to five poems (maximum combined length: 120 lines) Entry fee £17.50. Deadline 29th September.
Troubadour International Poetry Prize – Judges Michael Symmons-Roberts and Imtiaz Darker. Prizes £2,000, £1,000, £500, plus a swathe of other prizes (magazine subscriptions, champagne etc). A reduced first prize this year, but still a prestigious one to win. Entry fee £6 for the first, then £4 for each subsequent poem. Deadline 16th October.
Good sources of info re poetry competitions and reading windows are:
This is where I open with a statement about the star-studded atmosphere of the Savile Club ballroom last night, where the UK’s biggest poetry single-poem competition reached its climax…but this is my blog after all, so I know you’re expecting something a bit more – um – prosaic? Something about my exchanging some banter with Patience Agbabi while delving into my bag on the cloakroom floor, or trying not to look like an imposter as I anxiously scan the room for canapés. Well, yes, that did happen. And I was nervous walking in. But it was a joy to be there with poet friend Lynne, who shares my trepidation for these things but who always appears to be an oasis of calm and wisdom.
First up was the Ted Hughes Award, a newish prized instigated by Carol Ann Duffy, who generously funds it from her annual stipend for being Poet Laureate. Is she just the most impressive Poet Laureate ever? Like a brilliant Head Girl. Detention for anyone who doesn’t love her! The award “celebrates new work that may fall beyond the conventional realms of poetry, embracing mediums such as music, dance and theatre.” Winner this year was Holly McNish, and I was happy to see Harry Man also on the shortlist, a very talented and modest person who I had the pleasure of encountering on a Jack Underwood course a few years ago.
After a break, in which more schmoozing took place and the wine flowed, and a few people starting wilting for lack of canapés (I told Lynne she should have had the Scotch Egg with Apple Chutney that I’d had in the Running Horse earlier – small but perfectly formed), the big moment arrived. As the seven commended poets in the NPC were named, we realised we were standing in the same area of the room as the prize winners, which amused me no end. Although someone earlier in the evening did say to me “Have you won?” in such a matter-of-fact way I almost said “yes” just to see the reaction.
Jack Underwood and Moniza Alvi, two of the National Poetry Competition judges
I admit I was struggling to concentrate on the third and second placed poems as they were read, but how often does one reading of a poem have an impact? And it was hot and there was a lot of standing. But I genuinely enjoyed hearing Stephen Sexton read his winning poem ‘The Curfew’, and reading it on the way home. Congratulations that man, what a huge pile to rise to the top of.
The whole evening was great fun, and there was a warm atmosphere in the room. I felt able to say hello to many people, unfazed even by the occasional polite but puzzled ‘I can’t quite place who you are’ look. (Although I never assume anyone remembers my name so I always re-introduce myself – good manners I think!) At one point I said to Lynne “Oh, [Poet Name] just said hello to me, that’s good isn’t it?” to which she replied, unimpressed, “Who’s he?” which rather put my stupid name-dropping antics in their place. I enjoyed meeting new people, including Richard Stillman who introduced himself as a Twitter friend, which is always nice, and who proved very useful for finding people in the room as he stood head and shoulders above everyone.
Big thanks to the Poetry Society for all of this. And commiserations to all of us who entered and yet again got nowhere – hey, there’s always next year.
Do you send poems off to competitions? If not, why not? OK we all know it’s ‘a lottery’. Nevertheless most of us would admit it’s exciting to actually win something. Or is it?
I often debate this with poet friends and in particular the reasons not to enter comps. Let me know if you agree or disagree in the comments!
Reasons to submit to competitions
1) A competition win gives you instant visibility and credibility as a poet
2) Winning a competition is a terrific confidence-boost
3) There’s good money to be won
4) Pamphlet (or book) competitions are the only way to get published
5) It’s supporting a poetry publication or organisation that I like
Reasons NOT to submit to competitions
1) It’s expensive / I can’t afford it
Actually these are two separate arguments.
For some, it’s the principle of paying to enter a competition that grates. The fact that it takes hours and hours of work to even put a competition together, let alone promote/ judge and deal with all the related admin, is by-the-by. In competition publicity the emphasis is usually on the material benefits of winning, or the prestige to be gained – how much you win, whether it includes publication, who has won it before and what they say about it, etc.
Perhaps if competition organisers were to appeal more to the altruistic side of people’s nature – in how, by entering, they will be supporting the work of the publication or organisation concerned – their might be less grumbling. Rather as charities do – where your money goes, how it’s spent etc.
And nobody should be shy about the fact that the poetry judges get paid – they are poets who are earning a living from their work, and we’re hardly talking Premiership wages. Are they supposed to read 3,000 poems for the love of it? (If indeed they read them of course – see note below on ‘sifters’). And who among us wouldn’t want the same treatment if we were in their position?
Not being able to afford the entry fees is another thing. Any solution to this I suppose requires people to self-identify as being in a very low income bracket, which I imagine not everyone wants to. Organisations like Arvon offer bursaries and there may be the opportunity of an ACE grant for professional development but I don’t know if that extends to competition entry fees.
I don’t know if it’s the case, but I like to think that the competition organisers might offer a few individuals free entry, if they are known to them. Maybe even state this in the ‘where your entry fee is spent’ section on a competition entry form – better still, ask people if they are willing to sponsor an entry by a poet who otherwise wouldn’t be able to enter, by paying some or all of their entry fee. I think there would be takers for that, much the same as buying someone a magazine subscription as a gift. I certainly know there are organisers of poetry readings who sometimes help people attend who otherwise wouldn’t be able to afford the entry fee or travel.
2) My poems aren’t good enough
Ooh, are you sure? Maybe there’s more to it than this, but I’m no psychologist, so let’s take it on face value.
You only have to look at previous winning poems to know that there’s no magic formula or identifiable standard which makes a poem a competition winner. Second-guessing if something is ‘good enough’ is an impossible task.
There’s lots of advice on the web about what makes a ‘competition’ poem. Once you start writing them and getting the odd comp success, I think you get a feel for which of your poems are competition poems. But it’s tricky to identify any objective competition-winning DNA.
Standard advice is to research the judges. But that means finding out about their taste, not necessarily what they write themselves. Judges can be quick to spot ‘lookalike’ work, and it doesn’t always pay off. Is reading ‘something I could have written myself’ really going to surprise and delight a judge, send them into raptures? Personally, I doubt it.
So yes, read the judge’s own work, but also check out the results of other competitions they have judged. Read any interviews with them. Ask people who’ve been on their workshops. Or conversely, you might seek out competitions to enter where the judge is someone you have some experience of, as a tutor for example.
Remember too that many competitions employ first-round judges, or sifters. I encountered one competition where the named judge was sent only 30 or so poems, out of all the entries. You may have to read the small print (or ask around) to find this out.
3) What if I don’t win?
Although it feels a bit scary to send off a competition entry, in the early stage of one’s writing career there’s actually very little to lose, in terms of the fragile poet ego. Unlike submitting to magazines, you generally don’t get rejections. If your poem comes nowhere, you’ve no idea how quickly it was sifted out, and you can just forget (or pretend you’ve forgotten) you even entered. Or you can tell yourself your poem was probably in the top 10% of entries, if it makes you feel better.
If you’re an established poet, with a national profile and several collections to your name, entering a comp calls for a thick skin. Imagine appearing on a longlist, but you don’t make the short list. Then you find a CW student with two published poems gets third place. Or wins. WTF!I’m sure competition organisers publish long and short lists as a favour to poets – so they can see how far they got, and feel excited to try again, that sort of thing. Ironically, the more successful the poet, the more this actually becomes a disincentive to enter. Perhaps competition organisers could add a confidentiality checkbox to the entry form which says something like “I do not wish my name to appear on published Long or Short Lists.” It’s never going to happen of course, because having a high profile poet on a long list adds kudos to the comp.
In fact you may even be thinking it’s a bit of a non-reason. If you don’t want to be seen to lose, don’t go in for the comp! I suppose that’s one answer!
4) What if I win?
If this is seriously a reason not to enter a comp (because you’re worried about winning) then I’m not going to persuade you otherwise!
There are potential disadvantages to winning a high profile competition, such as dealing with unwanted attention – people criticising your work or even launching personal attacks in a way that doesn’t happen until you win big or find yourself in the national papers. But I doubt anyone ever got trolled for winning the Kent & Sussex.
So there you are. There’s really no such thing as the perfect poem that everyone agrees is marvellous. Comp organisers and poet-judges need the money. The monstrous poet ego needs the affirmation. Social media needs a constant fuelling of ‘who won what and look at me I won and yay for all the winners’ etc. Let’s go compete, and may the best (ahem!) woman win.
Good places to get info on forthcoming competitions:
Katy Evans-Bush‘s TS Eliot shortlist workshop is fast becoming an institution. Now in its sixth year, it’s a fine precursor to the Prize readings which take place the following day, and the prize giving itself the day after that.
The format is straightforward – Katy reads the ten shortlisted books, chooses from them a number of poems to discuss, and invites poets along to the Poetry School in Lambeth for a day to mull them over. I’ve been to one of these workshops once before and had a wonderful time. This time I had to confess I hadn’t read any of the collections, but in a way that’s part of the excitement – to be introduced to them by someone like Katy. Not only does she offer her thoughts and insights into the works, and invite us all into the discussion, but she also brings to the table her formidable background as a writer, reader and and literary critic. Plus the odd bit of insider gossip, of course.
The TS Eliot Prize is probably the highest profile UK poetry prize and that’s not just because the winner gets £20,000. The annual prize readings are a popular draw. I was fortunate to be there at the South Bank last night. The result will be announced tonight – I won’t be at the award ceremony this year (no invitation!? Boo! – although that didn’t stop me going last year!)
Anyway, here’s a quick round-up of the books, a note or two from the workshop and what I thought of the readings. It’s in the order that they read last night. I can’t presume to review any of the collections, but I’ve included links to interesting reviews of each of them, should you want to find out more. Oh, and a few pics at the end.
Bernard O’Donoghue, The Seasons of Cullen Church (Faber)
In an interesting mix of shortlisted poets, O’Donoghue represents the old guard, if you like – experienced, a Whitbread Prize winner, Emeritus Fellow of Wadham College, writing the sort of assured, Heaney-esque lyric poetry one expects to see on the TSE shortlist. In the time-pressured vipers’ nest of the workshop room the few poems we looked at got short shrift, but to be fair it was near the end of the day and we needed cake.
Ruby Robinson, Every Little Sound (Liverpool University Press)
Born in 1985, Ruby Robinson is clearly this year’s newcomer wild card (but not to be dismissed -look what happened last year). It’s a slim collection of little more than 30 poems, in a very small format (pamphlet sized) and even smaller typeface. This book was also shortlisted for the Forward Prize for Best First Collection, so clearly is a standout. In our workshop, various aspects of the sample poems came under attack (errors in grammar, inexplicable line endings).. could envy have been getting the better of us? Surely not!
At the readings, Ruby stood her ground very successfully and if she was nervous she made a good job of keeping it under control.
A collection of mostly short poems, with a section devoted to the Bach Flower Remedies, in which Towers personifies each flower with the qualities it purports to cure. These were clever and entertaining, but workshoppers identified a tendency to sail dangerously close to whimsy.
Katharine came across as a little nervous in the reading. Much as I admire brevity when it comes to introductions, as a member of the audience I found myself feeling supremely uninvolved. It’s a tricky balance.
In the workshop, none of us knew anything much about J O Morgan, but Katy filled us in on his previous publications and helped us into Interference Pattern, which doesn’t follow any traditional path. There are no titles, and although there are section markers it’s not clear if the sections are meant to be read as individual pieces. There are some recurring threads but it’s not all narrative. ‘Voices jostling… like radio interference’ was how Katy described it. I was intrigued by the idea of it not being ‘one poem’ but then again clearly meant to be taken as a whole.
I travelled up to London with poet friend Charlotte Gann and by the time we arrived I’d been won over by her enthusiasm for J O Morgan. The reading he gave was mesmerising – all without a script, and with an intensity of presence that gripped me utterly. Slightly scary too – which probably helps if you want to keep people’s attention!
At the start of the second half of readings, host Ian McMillan announced that a few people had complained that they couldn’t hear people clearly enough – thank god it wasn’t just me then! And the second half sound was noticeably better.
Vahni Capildeo, Measures of Expatriation (Picador)
One of the big guns – this book has already won the Forward Prize for Best Poetry Collection, and it’s clearly a big read. It’s in seven sections and is packed with not just poetry but dense passages of prose. It deals with displacement, leaving, distance, language, identity and many of such topics that are absolutely of the moment. ‘Complex and multifaceted but readable’. One of the workshoppers said she was halfway through and although she thought she’d find it heavy going it absolutely wasn’t.
Last night Vahni was first to read after the break, as a few audience members finished their ice creams and beers. It could have been a challenge but she was confident reader, friendly and fun. My brain struggled however to connect to what she was reading, I felt I’d come to it too ‘cold’ to really get a handle on it. I often find that though, and I also felt it when we read sections of the book in the workshop – I’d rather have the space and clarity of reading it on my own off the page, with time to look up references I don’t understand, that kind of thing.
Is there anyone who doesn’t love Ian Duhig? He’s such a great combination – a man of the people who’s absolutely grounded in the real world, local communities and politically engaged, generous and humble, but also fiercely intelligent with a masterful grasp of history, the classics and poetry in all forms. AND FUNNY TOO. Yikes! That’s my impression anyway.
It took me a while to adjust to Duhig’s accent in his reading and I wanted him to take the poems more slowly, so we could savour and enjoy. By this point my neighbour was already suggesting that us Southerners were woefully unrepresented – come on, Sarf London! Don’t leave it to Kate Tempest!
The premise of Void Studies is Rimbaud’s idea of writing series of poems as ‘pure music’ with no discernible message being communicated. He never did it, so here’s Rachael Boast’s version. You have to let the poems ‘wash over you … like listening to Debussy’ was Katy’s explanation. Basically French symbolist poetry, but in English. The poems we looked at struck me as having lovely ethereal language & imagery. Mostly in couplets, short. My kind of poetry, one might think.
Boast has a strong voice, a real pleasure to listen too, although perhaps it was the nature of the poems that they did indeed start to wash over me, without leaving any strong impression.
Here’s John Field’s review of Void Studies, only one of the ten reviews he wrote on the shortlisted books which inexplicably never made it onto the TSE Foundation website, which is a great shame. John is a fine reviewer as evidenced on by his blog Poor Rude Lines, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who would like to have linked to his reviews and help publicise them. Ah well.
Denise Riley, Say Something Back (Picador)
The ‘beating heart of the book’, said Katy, is the central sequence ‘A Part Song’ on the theme of a mother’s grieving for her dead son. We read the whole sequence round the room as part of the workshop and it was certainly moving. ‘A stupendous book’ was Katy’s pronouncement, and Riley was ‘a poet’s poet with a fine reputation.’ Katy pointed out that she’d come a long way, from being last published by Reality Street (‘Reality Street! Not even Shearsman!’) to Picador – a big leap, well deserved though. Indeed at the end of the day most people in the room felt this could be the winner.
The best word I can use to describe Denise Riley’s reading is ‘defiant’ – there was a strength of feeling in her delivery which was compelling, although I struggled with her chosen emphasis at times, and the long pauses between words. We didn’t get to hear ‘A part song’ which I was kind of hoping for.
Surely gets a prize for the most eye-catching cover, and in fact I absolutely LOVED all the Picador covers, and the size/shape of them. Full marks, Picador packaging peeps.
So here’s Jackself – a collection of poems about various Jacks of legend, phrase & fable, of childhood – Jack Sprat, Jack Frost, Jack O’Bedlam… Englishness and a sense of place (Polley’s place – the English/Scottish border country), themes of being trapped, a confrontational, unstable world. Katy says ‘You’re either with him or you’re not’.
In the workshop I was with him, I enjoyed the poems and the handling of the themes. Made me think a bit of Janet Sutherland’s Bone Monkey, or Ted Hughes’s Crow, although less dark than either of those (as far as I could tell from what I read).
Polley’s reading was the penultimate and having to go before Alice Oswald is also a pressure. I remember really enjoying his reading from The Havocs a few years ago. More self-assured now, but a little more mannered in his delivery. I still enjoyed the poems though.
I struggled to find a review of Jackself, but you might be luckier than me!
Alice Oswald, Falling Awake (Cape)
What can I say here? I loved the poems we read in the workshop, including ‘Swan’ which she then read last night. Falling Awake won the Costa prize already and Oswald is a previous winner of the TSE Prize. Her reading was magnificent, all recited from memory which I love but it wasn’t just that. She had such a presence. ‘Commanding presence’ is a cliche but it really was that.
And so to the result – only a few hours to go. My metaphorical money is still on Alice Oswald, although my fellow workshoppers came down in the Denise Riley camp. With Vahni Capildeo the other in the triumvirate of ‘likely to wins’. Or how about J O Morgan as a dark horse?
The books…in no specific orderMe & KEB at the end of the poetry book marathon
And on the way home, what should I pass than Pimlico Plumbers and their amazing Christmas decs – in the middle of January!
Hello!? It’s January 15th, people!
But London was as beautiful as ever at 5pm in January…
I have a much longer ‘end of year’ post lined up but for now I thought I’d post a quick subs update for this year.
40 poems submitted to 11 magazines: 33 declined, 7 accepted (17.5%) by 5 magazines.
7 poems entered for competitions: 1 x 2nd place, 6 x ducks.
2 x poems included in anthologies (invitation/non competitive, both new poems).
2 x poems included in anthologies (competitive, both previously published poems).
3 x pamphlet submissions: 1 shortlisted (last 20), 3 declined.
Currently out: 6 to competitions, 7 to magazines (of which 7 are resubs and 5 new).
As I suspected, I’ve sent out significantly fewer poems in 2016 than in previous years. But checking back on 2015 I also see that several of the ‘declined’ or unplaced poems have subsequently been published elsewhere (6 of the 23 poems submitted to competitions and 9 of those declined by magazines).
There are many reasons for the low send rate, not just laziness (although that comes into it): illness, confidence ebbing as certain poems I was sure about have been continually rejected, and not writing enough decent new material. I’m planning to do better in 2017 though – I’ve already lined up for myself a ‘start a poem a day’ in January and am going to permit myself writing time rather than snatch it guiltily when there’s nothing else I ‘ought’ to be doing.
I’m always interested in other people’s stats – I’m aware some people send out MUCH more than me, and others who scarcely send out at all. Do use the comments box to share your own experience if you’d like to.
Oh and MERRY CHRISTMAS of course – thank you for taking the time to read this blog and I wish you joy, health & peace.
It’s easy to lose the rhythm of blogging – I’ve been lacking the motivation lately, partly out of a feeling of ‘what is there really to say that makes a difference?’ And yet, there are always interesting things to say.
So what’s on my mind at the moment? Firstly, an increasing need to stay away from Facebook, TV news, the media generally. Is that an age thing – when nothing under the sun really seems new, or if it is, it often seems inconsequential? Perhaps also a ‘winter’s-coming-and-the-days-are-getting-shorter thing?
Secondly, we’re approaching our first winter in our new home and the to-do list is as long as ever. It’s such an absorbing project that sometimes I’d just rather strip down a window sill or paint a door, than put pen to paper!
And thirdly … quite a few poetry thangs coming up in terms of events, deadlines etc:
The Rialto’s first poetry pamphlet comp closes on November 30th – I did imagine I would enter, but my pamphlet offering(s) are in horrible disarray at the moment, so not good timing for me. But you should go for it! Fee is £22 (or £16 for Rialto subscribers) and Hannah Lowe will pick the winners from a shortlist of 50.
Other imminent comp closings, in case you’re feeling lucky – Cafe Writers Poetry Competition, judged by Andrew McMillan with no sifters – closes November 30th. Fee is £4 per poem or £10 for three, and there’s an extra prize for the funniest poem, which makes a refreshing change!
In events news, this coming Monday 28th November I’ll be reading a poem at Anne-Marie Fyfe’s Coffee-House Poetry at The Troubadour, along with a number of other contributors to Live Canon’s 154 Anthology. The second half (main event) features Luke Kennard, Martina Evans and more. Should be a fantastic night.
It looks like there’ll be a block of Telltale poets in the audience at the T S Eliot award readings on January 15th at the Festival Hall in London. Hurrah! I always love the atmosphere at this event, and the chance to hear so many fine poets all in one sitting. Only downside is that getting home is always a MARE and who knows what skeletal service Southern Rail may be operating by then.
Oh, and I’ve given myself a deadline of the end of this month to finally finish finalising (!) the second ‘all about Twitter’ ebook, which now needs some rewrites having left it 6 months, and I need to get it out before Twitter pops its clogs.
Now, back to some paint-stripping – oh no, silly me, it’s dark … and what’s more our boiler has just packed up, so this evening I’ll be under a duvet on the sofa with a hot water bottle. Possibly rummaging through my pamphlet poems again …
It’s been a tricky month so far for finding the time and inclination to blog, so I thought I’d write a quick update. I have a lovely guest post waiting in the wings, which I’m planning to post up later in the week.
So … the last three weeks have been strange to say the least, as I’ve been travelling over to Brighton each weekday for radiotherapy. It’s an hour or more each way on the bus, but it has to be one of the most scenic bus routes in the country: climbing up onto the South Downs with views of the sea on three sides, skirting Friston Forest and down into Cuckmere Haven with its gorgeous meandering river. It’s less pretty after that but views of the sea are never far away. I’ve read three novels and had fun observing my travelling companions and taking in all the quirks of bus life. It’s almost taken my mind off the reality of having to go every day to lie naked from the waist up in a freezing room while strangers stare and prod and haul me around. Almost. BUT of course I’m grateful, for the NHS, for the kindness of strangers, that the treatment’s nearly over, that I’m still alive.
But just to balance that out, I’ve had one of my fastest ever rejections, from The London Magazine (admittedly it was a bit of a long shot), and I’m also still struggling with a pamphlet that’s been brewing for two years. Just when I thought I was getting close to a publishable standard I had some excoriating feedback and it’s back to the drawing board. I’ve now set myself a target of six weeks to get it into shape. I also had to miss the awesomeness that is the Poetry Swindon Festival which I’d been looking forward to for months.
I’m hoping that I can make up for the lost time of the past 3 weeks and get back on track with poetry, work and projects around the flat. However, I’ve finally given up the idea of making curtains for a big bay window. Bring in the experts!
Image: Cuckmere Haven by Eric Ravilious, Towner Gallery Eastbourne
Just checking which magazines have re-opened their windows (must’ve been hot in there) and have found the following:
The Stinging Fly is open until Aug 31st (postal submissions) or Sept 4 (via Submittable).
Agenda appears to have been open since June 1st – the website says it’s still open, so jump in quickly!
Ambit has been open for poetry submissions from August 1st, window closes October 1st.
Under the Radar will be re-opening Sept 14th and closing October 30th. (This is a change to what I reported previously).
For a list of some UK magazines which are open to submissions all year, see my April post.
Competition deadlines coming up
Attention all compers: there are some opportunities to look at here – click on the relevant link to go to the page with more info. All details are provided in good faith, but I can’t guarantee I’ve got them all correct – please go to the competition page to check and to read the rules, cut off dates etc.
Cornwall Contemporary Poetry Festival (a new one on me) – judge Alison Brackenbury, first prize is £600. Entry fee £5 for the first poem, £3 thereafter. Deadline 3rd September.
Primers Vol 2 – publication & mentoring is the prize on offer to 3 poets. Final long and shortlists are decided by Jane Commane & Jacob Sam La Rose after initial sifting. £15 entry for 6 poems. I was ‘long listed’ for this last year, so may have another stab at it. Deadline 4th September.
The Poetry Society’s Stanza Competition – open to Poetry Society members who are also members of a PS Stanza. Judged by Ros Barber, the theme is ‘Silence’. There’s no dough on offer here but plenty of kudos. I was thrilled to bag it in 2014. Yes, comps CAN be won! Deadline 12th September.
Live Canon Poetry Competition – judge Lorraine Mariner, first prize £1,000. Entry fee £6 for a single poem, £15 for three. Deadline 12th September.
The Manchester Poetry Prize – judges Sarah Howe, Helen Mort & Adam O’Riordan. £10,000 prize for the best portfolio of three to five poems (maximum combined length: 120 lines) Entry fee £17.50. This is one of the big prizes and (dare I say it) a tad prestigious. Go for it. Deadline 23rd September.
If you enter any of these comps and win – remember we all want to know about it here!
When Tim Dawes came to Lewes just a few months ago to talk about his plans for a South Downs Poetry Festival, I admit I was sceptical about whether it could be done in such a short timeframe. But hats off to him, the event happened and from what I can tell, it was a super success.
After a poetry bike ride taking in the length of the South Downs, plus numerous readings and workshops throughout the area, things culminated in a day-long event in Petersfield on Saturday, which I was very pleased to be a part of.
I was there with fellow Telltale Poet Jess Mookherjee, flying the Telltale flag, socialising with fellow publishers/poets and taking in readings and workshops where possible. Being a new festival, it was on a small scale – which made it actually all the more fun. With smallness comes intimacy – everyone was relaxed, poets and organisers accessible, and there was time and space to really talk to people. And we brought cookies – free edibles are always a magnet!
The sun was blazing outside, which made the short walk between venues all the better – although screams of delight from the next-door lido almost made me wish I’d brought my cossie. I even had an enjoyable drive there and back – 80 miles each way through some of Sussex’s loveliest towns, and the A272 was oddly free of horse boxes, cycle races and traction engines. Result! And let’s not forget a memorable warm-up breakfast at the Apothecary Cafe with Jess – we were ON FIRE with ideas by the time we were setting up our stand.
But I digress! The business of the day was of course poetry – Jess and I managed to catch the prize-winning readings of the Havant Poetry Competition, judged by Stephanie Norgate and won by former Brighton Stanza member Anna Kisby with a fine prose poem. Now based in Devon, Anna is a very talented poet who tends to quietly win a lot stuff and deserves a big audience.
During the day there were workshops going on, and readings and performances into the evening. I enjoyed meeting and/or catching up with lots of friendly faces and lovely poet friends including Lucy Cotterill, Hilda Sheehan (sorry we never got to chat properly, Hilda!), Frances White, Hugh Dunkerley, Wendy Klein and Andrew McMillan – whose workshop I managed to get along to and so glad I did – I’ll be posting a full report on this shortly. It was also nice to meet and chat with Alwyn Marriage, who is doing an amazing job running Oversteps Books single-handledly.
My one annoyance was coming out with a phone that I hadn’t charged up properly – a dead phone, DUH! So no photos of our stand (the one above is thanks to the good peeps of Winchester Poetry Festival, taken before we all moved into the much cosier foyer), no pics of the readers, no pics of our superior breakfast, no selfie with Andrew McMillan – tragic!
But despite the lack of pics, it was still a fantastic day. We’re already looking forward to next year’s festival.
… it’s always exciting, especially of course if you’ve got a poem in it. In the last couple of weeks I’ve been enjoying The Interpreter’s House issue 62, featuring an augmented brace of Telltale Poets (ie 3) and Brittle Star 38.
Both mags are famous for their striking covers, and my first thought when I saw Martin Parker’s design for Brittle Star was ‘Kate Bush!’ Check it out –
Clearly they are not the same, but it goes to show how many hours I stared at this album cover and how embedded it is in my memory.
The INSIDE of the magazine is of course the thing, and I enjoy the editorial and reviews as well as the poetry. I’m not big on short stories in poetry magazines, although I can be persuaded to read them occasionally. I know it’s common for magazines to do both, but I have a bit of a one-track mind.
Also just through the letterbox is the new Poetry Review (nothing in there by me, but I live in hope – although I haven’t actually submitted there for a while, and you can’t win it if you’re not in it. ) Some nice news though – I was just reading about Ian Humphreys winning the Hamish Canham prize this year (I had a lot of fun working with Ian in our breakout group on the Duffy & Clarke masterclass at Ty Newydd a few years ago. Very nice to see him having such a great 2016) when I saw my poem ‘The houses are coming’ mentioned as being on the shortlist of six for the prize. Huzzah! I need a few confidence-boosters right now and I’ll take that very happily, thanks very much The Poetry Society.
