Category: Inspiration

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Chaucer

chaucer

One of the highlights of my first year on the York MA in 2020 was being introduced to The House of Fame by Chaucer. I just found it such a revelation – completely original, hilarious in parts, very relevant to current ‘celebrity’ culture, and kind of bizarre. My only previous encounter with Chaucer was at school when we had to look at the General Prologue and the Nun’s Priest’s Tale from The Canterbury Tales. So not even the funny bits!

When I recently came across a review of a biography by Marion Turner, Chaucer, A European Life (Princeton University Press, 2019) I bought it, and found I couldn’t put it down. Rather than tell the story of his life chronologically, Turner goes for thematic chapter headings (“Great Household”, “Milky Way”, “Inn”) that are intriguing, and that explain the historical and cultural contexts vividly. I loved it.

My current project is reading The Canterbury Tales (albeit in modern English, I admit – Nevill Coghill’s translation for Penguin Classics) So far I’ve only skipped the Monk’s Tale, which looked particularly heavy going, and in fact the ‘Host’ tells us afterwards that it practically sent him to sleep with boredom, so maybe that was a good call.

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Currently inspired by…

The Waste Land detail of MS

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.

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Nature sleeps. Thank goodness for art

Metope from the Parthenon Marbles

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.

 

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Meet-ups, currently reading & other distractions

A Length of Road by Robert Hamberger

Nothing wrong with distractions, and goodness I’m certainly welcoming them with open arms. But scroll down if you’re only here for the poetry stuff.

Distraction #1: Singing

A couple of weeks ago I was at Westminster Abbey with members of the Lewes Singers, for the fifth time, where we sang two evensongs in a spookily empty quire. We rather rattled around in there. But it was so fantastic to be able to sing again in one of our magnificent cathedrals. If you’re interested I’ve written a more detailed blog post about it here.

Lewes Singers in Westminster Abbey
That’s my man! Nick rehearsing the Lewes Singers in Westminster Abbey

Distraction #2: London

A few days in London was a real tonic. And it’s still pretty quiet and tourist-free. We visited some more of the fascinating City churches, also the much-revamped Museum of the Home, and just enjoyed exploring London on foot.

We also went to the David Hockney exhibition at the Royal Academy, The Arrival of Spring. It’s two (or three?) rooms of the paintings Hockney did in France during Spring 2020, recording the same trees, plants and landscapes as they transitioned from bare and cold to full greenery and colour. I was quite taken aback – the colours are just indescribably beautiful, and the whole idea of Spring and how it always comes back, no matter what… I don’t know why but I started welling up and before I knew it I was standing in the middle of the room completely in tears. I’ve never had that kind of reaction to any art, so it rather took me aback. I guess the last 18 months have been harder than I thought.

David Hockney number 209, 17th April 2020
David Hockney, The Coming of Spring number 209, 17th April 2020
Gorgeous Huguenot houses in Fournier Street, Spitalfields, London
Gorgeous Huguenot houses in Fournier Street, Spitalfields
The Barbican, Brutalism at its best
The Barbican, Brutalism at its best

Distraction #3: Gardening

Actually I’ve been taking less care of the garden recently other than deadheading, sitting looking at the wonderful hibiscus that only flowers for one week in the year, and picking tomatoes. These are mostly the variety ‘Romello’, and they’ve been so soft and sweet – highly recommended.

Romello tomatoes
Tomatoes ‘Romello’
The wonderful Hibiscus

And so to poetry…

I’ve had a few weeks of full-on Planet Poetry stuff, getting our new website up but mostly reading and preparing for interviews with (spoiler alert) Kim Addonizio, Martina Evans, Di Slaney and Sharon Black – you heard it here first! Series Two kicks off at the end of September. Subscribe in iTunes or Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts.

Recent poetry by Sharon Black and Di Slaney
Recent poetry by Sharon Black and Di Slaney

I’ve also actually been writing some new poems – hurrah! – as well as receiving the odd rejection email, including one addressed to ‘Dear Francesca’ – ! Dear oh dear. Sorry about that Francesca – do you have my rejection email by any chance?

Last month Hastings Stanza had its first in-person meetup since – well – you can imagine – and I can report it felt quite momentous. Glorious in fact. And a few days ago I met up with my Telltale pals in a Brighton pub garden and downed many pints of beer, as well as being very loud and lairy. Sadly I don’t have their permission to share a photo here, though I am sorely tempted!

And finally, not poetry exactly but kind of – my bedside reading is currently A Length of Road by Robert Hamberger. It’s an utterly absorbing and very personal account of Rob’s walk in the footsteps of John Clare. It’s a meditation on Clare’s poetry, and also nature writing but mostly a beautiful and honest memoir, and perfect reading for the quiet night time journey down into sleep. It’s published by JM Originals. Definitely recommended.

 

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A sudden rush of sending out & signing up

Earlier this week I found myself pulling out old poems as well as some recent work, and giving them a bit of a pummelling. As a result I’ve had a spree of sending out to magazines and (yes I’m afraid so) the odd competition.

As luck would have it, I’m booked into a half-day Poetry Business workshop on Saturday with Jackie Wills and Michael Laskey, which I enrolled for months ago thinking by this time I’d be back in the poetry-writing saddle. Good timing.

And as if that weren’t enough, this morning I saw a tweet from Carrie Etter about her Arvon at Home week co-hosted by Sasha Dugdale, and I couldn’t resist an impulse-purchase. I’ve kind of sworn off any more residential courses, which I find rather stressful for many reasons, but the idea of doing it all from the comfort and splendid isolation of my home, with two of my favourite poets, is very appealing. The topic to be worked on is how to get a collection together, something I’ve been noodling around for ages, so that sealed the deal.

I’ve also been inspired by the latest issue (the first of my subscription) of PN Review which just arrived, including a page of poems by Shane McCrae which really excited me. They’re now pinned up next to my desk for inspiration.

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Those tips from Don Paterson again…

I was doing a bit of editing yesterday and looked back on some of the notes I’d made from various workshops, and then I remember this blog post from 2012. Yes, nearly 8 years ago, a heck of a long time in politics but a few seconds in poetics. Anyway, I thought I’d reblog it, as it still made me think (and laugh):

A Few Tips from Don Paterson

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Sun, secrets and submissions

OK, what I’ve been up to generally

Greetings from the Sunshine Coast. I can’t remember the last time it rained here, but the water authorities are asking us to be frugal with the watering. I’m doing my best but those courgettes are mighty thirsty.

I haven’t been writing these last few weeks, and reading other people’s blogs I feel I ‘m not alone. However, there’s a Hastings Stanza meeting coming up so that’s a good reason for me to have a dig through the WIP for a poem to workshop. Actually, I’m not beating myself up about not writing, because I’m working through a lot of ideas at the moment and this has meant research, reading and mulling, all nice cerebral activities for when I’m not gardening, or directing my long-suffering other half to repaint the hall or reposition a shelf. Oh and of course doing my best to thrash the rellies at the weekly Zoom quiz.

It’s also perfect walking weather – the other day I got a tip-off about a ‘secret’ beach, and the walk there was glorious – a slowly-descending cliff path, lots of steep steps, very few people about but plenty of birds, butterflies and beautiful views. This part of the coast is all pebbles, but in certain places at low tide there’s sand. It was magical.

Boots on the beach

Yes but what about the poetry

A couple of weeks ago I ‘attended’ the launch of Charlotte Gann‘s new collection The Girl Who Cried (HappenStance). It was set up as a ‘webinar’, which meant we could see the readers but not each other, and we had no idea who else was there (it was a secret!) To begin with I was a bit sad about that, and a  couple of other things, but I ended up really enjoying the event. Charlotte read a few poems from the book, in between carrying on a conversation with Nell Nelson the publisher. The poems were displayed on the screen as Charlotte read, which for me was a REAL bonus over just hearing them read aloud.  The result was a lovely insight into the work, and more intimate than a regular reading. And trust me, Charlotte is the real deal; a real poet. I’ve got the book on order, so something else to look forward to.

Meanwhile there is one poetry project that’s currently bubbling under, an exciting collaboration … announcement coming soon!!!!!  Sorry. That’s about as annoying as those tweets that go ‘I’VE HAD SOME AMAZING NEWS AND I’M SICK WITH EXCITEMENT BUT CAN’T TELL YOU ABOUT IT YET’ – huh, whatever. It’s a secret! Like you care!

Submissions news

I’ve had a couple of sad rejections trickle in in the last month, and still have a couple more submissions ‘in progress’, but since I’ve sent nothing out in about three months I predict my name will be absent from the mags this autumn. But at least I have some summer appearances to look forward to in The North, Stand and the Frogmore Papers.

It’s that time again

I’ve been compiling and updating my quarterly ‘UK Poetry Magazines Submissions Criteria and Windows’ document for a number of years now, and tomorrow I’ll be finalising the June update, to send on Monday. If you’re not on the list to receive it, you can sign up here. 

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Musings on Mantel, comps deadlines and a lovely Rock Rose

And so it goes on

Life has settled into a gentle daily routine, namely breakfast (in the garden most days until this cold snap), desk work, chores or gardening usually in the morning, salad and cheese/crackers or mackerel pate for lunch, then reading, more gardening, a walk or a run, a bit of yoga, a game of Scrabble at 6-ish, an episode of Spooks,Van Der Valk or whatever in the evening. Having regular punctuation points (and giving thanks daily to all the relevant gods for our fortunate situation) seems to help keep frustration at bay. And if all else fails, cups of tea. It reminds me of the various office jobs I’ve had in the past – it didn’t matter how frequently it happened, every time someone said ‘cup of tea anyone?’ the answer was always ‘LOVE ONE’.

The garden is starting to bloom. This is a marvellous thing.

Cistus in flower

I finished Hilary Mantel’s The Mirror and the Light. I’m still thinking about it. Did I enjoy it more than the first two books? No, but then how reasonable is it to say that Wolf Hall was the best? It was the first, so it had the most impact. When it comes to Mirror, we know it’s the third part of the story of Thomas Cromwell, and it’s hardly a spoiler to say it ends with his death.  But how on earth do you write about real people like this, real people, not fictional characters, many of whose lives have been recorded and dissected over the centuries, and weave them into a story that’s original, alive, relevant, thrilling even. As a reader, you know what’s coming but still can’t wait to turn the page. It’s extraordinary.

I’m not a great reader of fiction. Mantel’s trilogy has made me curious about some of the other people who appear as characters her the books and what became of them, such as Rafe Sadler, who went on to serve four monarchs, and William Herbert who has a bit-part in Mirror: he rose to become the first Earl of Pembroke and was given huge swathes of Wiltshire to build a house and start a dynasty. His daughter-in-law Mary was apparently a brilliant woman and her brother was Philip Sidney – a poet whose name I knew but am now getting to know his work…

Philip Sidney The Major Works

Poetry reading, poet readings

Poet friend Judith very kindly sent me a copy of Mary Jean Chan’s Flèche (Faber)which I’m looking forward to reading, and I also have a copy of Jackie Kay’s Darling (New & Selected)(Bloodaxe), a collection I’ve been itching to read for some time. And I’m hoping to get hold of Charlotte Gann’s new collection, The Girl Who Cried (Happenstance), for which there’s going to be an online launch on May 21st.

Fleche by Mary Jean Chan

Couple of comps to mention

Yes I know, I’ve sworn off entering single-poem comps for this year, but perhaps I can do my bit for mags and organisers by promoting them.

The Frogmore Poetry Competition, judged by Maria Jastrzębska is closing soon, on 31st May – enter here.

The Bridport Prize closes 31st May – poetry judge is Mimi Khalvati.

Live Canon Collection Competition, deadline May 25th – lots of winning chances here, do take a look.

Not poetry, but…writer friend Danielle Sensier has asked me to mention the Chalk Circle Short Story Competition which is now open until 31st August, judged by Vanessa Gebbie…

Magazines update

If you’re on my mailing list you should have received an email last week about magazines whose windows are closing soon.

If you didn’t get this and/or would like to be on the list, please join via the webform on my ‘about’ page:

NB I’d be grateful if you would join via the form, as if you ask me to add you I may not see your request or be able to act on it right away – thanks!

I’ll be compiling the next update to my Poetry Magazines Submissions Windows spreadsheet at the end of this month.

That’s it for now – take care.

Angst/

SloPo

How are you doing?

Apparently we’re now all feasting on The Repair Shop and reruns of The Vicar of Dibley. The skies are bluer and quieter than ever, all the better to hear birdsong. Stars are brighter, if you have access to outdoor space at night time. I realise these are terrible times for so many people and I’m one of the fortunate ones. I’m not facing financial ruin, I’m ‘locked down’ in the company of my best friend and I have a garden. I’m able to appreciate Spring and watch things grow. Just the word grow makes me slow down. So what if I haven’t written any stonking new poems lately. I have a few ideas, but they need time to grow. SloPo seems to have come into its own.

I planted some basil seeds on 6th March, and another lot on 20th April. What a difference six weeks makes.

Basil growing

The problem is I have plenty of poems at the pre-germination stage and I want them to look more like that 6-week young basil!

I enjoyed reading an interview with Julia Cameron in the Sunday Times last week, (apologies if this is behind a paywall) on dealing with social isolation (“As westerners, we have a hard time sitting and doing nothing”). I remember reading The Artist’s Way and struggled to follow its advice. There’s something about ‘free writing’ that feels to me like the opposite: I feel restricted, I regress to cliche, old reminiscences, boring language and prosaic nonsense. An advocate might say ‘yes that’s the idea – not to think, just write’. But sadly it doesn’t free me up. I guess I could adapt the daily free writing to something else: word games around a theme or something that at least begins with a structure.

Next month I’m going to be following Adriene Mishler’s monthly calendar which will have a meditation element to it alongside the yoga. Meditation isn’t something I’ve ever got into, but these days I’m suitably chilled to give it a try.

Quick submissions update

So far I’ve managed to stick to my resolve of not entering any single-poem competitions. (Although I did try the Poetry Business Pamphlet competition again.) Having had nothing really appear in magazines for months, I’m paying the price for submitting very little in the second half of 2019. I did have a poem long listed in the National this year, which I was chuffed about (once I’d got over the initial BWWAAA how did I manage to miss out on the money?) I’m very pleased to have a poem forthcoming in The North in the summer, and one in Stand. I’m currently awaiting responses to nine poems from three magazines. That’s it for now.

Wishing you love, health and slo-po.

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Tending seedlings & taking comfort from ‘wee granny’

I hope you’re well in body and spirit. If you’re anything like me you’re trying not to overdose on news and focus instead on Spring!

Last week’s Hastings Stanza poetry workshop via Zoom went very well, in fact I was convinced enough to then sign up for a Zoom-hosted writing session with the Sansoms next week. Something in the diary! This last week I’ve been reading rather than writing. A couple of hundred pages through The Mirror and the Light, I’m not as gripped as I was by Wolf Hall. But I’m into it. Meanwhile, Defoe’s A Journal of the Plague Year is compelling in a macabre sort of way – many, many parallels with today, both in how people are reacting to it and in how authorities are trying to deal with it. There’s also some unexpected humour.

A happy distraction at the moment is vegetable growing. I’m going to have more seedlings ready to plant out than we can accommodate, so I’m hoping the neighbours will be happy to have a courgette or two in the communal garden. Failing that I could offer them to other houses in the street, although I know many of them have communal gardens managed by agents. Maybe I should put them on a ‘help yourself’ table on the pavement outside. Although people aren’t out for strolls that much at the moment of course.

courgette and nasturtium seedlings

I’ve been keeping a ‘lockdown’ journal, just for my own interest and to remind myself (hopefully in years to come!) how we (hopefully!) got through it. Reading other people’s blogs I get the feeling the initial euphoria of it all has flattened out to more a sense of restlessness or powerlessness, even sadness. I know ‘euphoria’ sounds wrong, but I mean that initial excitement in terms of ‘it’s really happening’ and ‘no-one in the world knows how this is going to go’ and ‘we’re all (kind of) in it together’, plus getting used to all the changes and rising to the occasion. As Mat Riches says in his recent post, “apparently, we’re meant to be using this time to learn Sumerian or how to perform brain surgery and recreate Citizen Kane in stop motion using only Lego minifigs or repurposed Barbie Dolls” – but for many people it’s enough to get through the day and not worry about the family they’re not seeing or the business they’re losing.

Although I’m also fighting a creeping sense of sadness, I’ve so much to feel grateful for. Last Thursday was our youngest granddaughter’s 2nd birthday. I had fun making a card telling a story in which we all played parts, and with WhatsApp we were able to share the candle-blowing-out/cake cutting. Regular runs out with Nick make me feel that my body isn’t atrophying. The sun’s been shining and there’s beautiful scenery where I live. I watched the Queen’s message on TV last night and was strangely moved. What she’s been through. I’ve never considered myself a raging royalist but I have the upmost respect for her and I found her words comforting. In the same vein, the little video of a Scottish ‘wee granny’ that popped into my Twitter stream midweek was (and still is) a highlight for me. Do watch it if you haven’t already, you will feel better afterwards.

For once I’m actually grateful to be subscribed to so many newsletters, as companies and organisations are making great efforts to reach out to customers with new services, suggestions or just moral support. I’m not saying I’ve taken them all up, but sometimes just reading them helps. Here are some I’ve been impressed by:

On my desk I have a list of people I want to keep in touch with and am thinking along the lines of something in the post. Not that I want to overload our valuable posties. But I just feel there can be something very warm about a letter or a card, perhaps hand-made, with a person in mind. More personal than an email, less stressful than a phone call. For many of these people I only have postal addresses anyway. Another project!