Category: Lockdown

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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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Just a notelet…

Having just enjoyed reading through my Monday morning digest of other people’s blogs, I can see quite a few people are blogging more often, and I’m wondering why that doesn’t seem to be the case for me. I haven’t even updated my ‘Eastbourne Diary’ blog since the lockdown, and yet there’s plenty to report about the garden, and the moving around of furniture and other household tales. I think maybe I’m trying to do more individual reaching out, and consequently the blogging has slipped down the ‘to-do’ list.

A couple of weeks ago I had the thought of writing to friends, to ask how they are and tell them what’s going on in our little world-bubble. But I confess my handwriting is poor, and after 20 years of RSI it hurts to write longhand. Then I remembered how much I’d enjoyed making ‘Foot Wear’, my little A6 sized pamphlet, and thought I would revive the quaint art of the ‘notelet’ – a sort of cross between a card and a letter. I have a large stock of good quality A5 paper, so I started painting sheets of them, just random background paint, the more sloshed-on the better. When they were dry, I flattened them between the pages of my OED, then set about trimming and pamphlet-binding two sheets together into little A6 booklets. But what to put in them? I decided on a kind of mini-magazine – there was space for one poem (something I liked and/or felt was appropriate, but not one of mine), one ‘topical’ prose extract or flash fiction, a recipe and a knot instructional (I’m big into knots at the moment). It seemed a bit dry, so I got out my copy of the fascinating British Poetry Magazines 1914 – 2000 and photocopied a few of the poetry magazine covers from times past. And added a postcard. The notelets were all slightly different – I tried to choose the elements according to the person I was sending to.

British Poetry Maga zines 2014 - 2000

When it came to writing in the notelets and sending them out, I wondered if I’d gone a bit crazy. I could picture some of the recipients opening and thinking ‘oh no, Robin’s lost it’. But in a good way I hoped!  In actual fact I’ve had some really lovely responses, including a handwritten card and letter, and no-one seems to have been weirded-out. One friend said, ‘it’s fascinating to see what people get up to during a lockdown!’ I’ll take that!

making notelets

 

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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!

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As the world moves online

Wow, things are changing so quickly it’s hard to believe – for example, how people are getting themselves online – to teach, to meet, to try new things, but mostly I think to keep relationships going with family, friends, customers… when the going gets tough, the tough get tooled-up on tech. This coming week our esteemed Hastings Stanza rep Antony Mair has arranged for us to hold our monthly workshop via Zoom, which is clearly the conferencing app du jour. And last week my dear husband actually started a blog, to keep in touch with all his choirs, and had 92 followers within hours. Whaaaa?! He’ll be writing poetry next.

And so to the lockdown. I’ve begun reading Hilary Mantel’s The Mirror and the Light which is highly absorbing, and another book which I was tempted into buying, called Timeless Simplicity – Creative living in a consumer society by John Lane, a book which I thought would suit current circumstances. But unfortunately it’s nearly twenty years old and as such rather dated in its information about mass leisure, work and consumption. There’s some food for thought though. I’ve started recalling books about plagues and sieges. I remember being much moved by Helen Dunmore’s The Siege. Years ago in school I read Albert Camus’s La Peste (aka The Plague – although we had to read it in French for A level – pah!). It’s clearly enjoying a renaissance at the moment – The Guardian reports that Penguin Classics are struggling to keep up with orders. And then there’s Daniel Defoe’s Journal of the Plague Year. I had a feeling I still had a copy, and lo – there it was on the bookshelf…

Daniel Defoe a Journal of the Plague Year

I can’t wait to get stuck into this, in fact I may to read it in parallel with the Mantel, something I never do with novels.

On the poetry front I am loving Sharon Olds’ Arias. It’s firing up my writing too. I’ve no idea what the effect is of the pandemic on poetry magazines, whether editors have too much on their plates dealing with the exigencies of life under lockdown to be thinking about the publishing schedule, or reading submissions or what have you. No doubt they’ll be inundated with poems now that we all have more time to write. And plenty on the subject of you-know-what. I wonder how much ‘pestilence poetry’ we can all take for the next few years as the theme filters through to publication?

I can report there was a mad rash of cleaning in our house last week. The kitchen was scrubbed so well I had a sore shoulder for days. I’ve also been cleaning old garden pots and potting on seedlings. We’re taking our exercise in the form of walks or runs, and last week had a lovely walk up to Beachy Head where sat well away from the path and ate a picnic. Very few people about. We’re so fortunate to have this sort of countryside on our doorstep and I do hope we won’t be prevented in the future from walking though it. Fresh air, access to nature and the ability to be outside are certainly crucial to my own mental health and I’m sure I’m not alone. Wherever we walk about here it’s very quiet. I was more worried on my one visit to Sainsbury’s, even though they are limiting the numbers in the shop. (I’d like to say how good the staff were at our local store in Hamden Park, Eastbourne – friendly, upbeat, entertaining the queue – shop staff are doing difficult jobs and I’ve no doubt they take a lot of flak.) And Katya in our local shop is doing a marvellous job of keeping open, with fresh produce available every day.

Eastbourne from beachy head
Looking back to Eastbourne from the Beachy Head peninsula

I’ve loved reading other people’s blogs and seeing photos of Spring. Last week I was thrilled to discover Jean Tubridy was back blogging. Jean’s blog Social Bridge was one of the first I used to follow. Warmly recommended. Another lovely post that caught my eye last week was Ann Perrin’s tribute to her mother – what an extraordinary life she had, and Ann tells her story with such generosity and ease. Do take a look.

PS I’m 6-4 ahead in the Scrabble Challenge…