Needlewriters is based in Lewes and consists of about 6 or 7 of us (not entirely sure how many at the moment!) and we’re all writers of prose, poetry or both. We host quarterly events at the Needlemakers cafe (geddit?) at which there are generally three readers – two prose and one poetry, or the other way around. In the interval we sell books and have a raffle, the cafe is open and it’s a well-supported evening. We’ve also produced an anthology featuring work by many of the writers who have read at the event over the years. (The online version can be read for free here.)
Last Thursday we had our Spring reading which for the first time was a Poetry Special, with four readers: Lucy Cotterill, Jemma Borg, Janet Sutherland and Vanessa Gebbie. I was struck by the range of subject matter and styles we witnessed. And each of the poets read so well – although the voices were quite different they all seemed to exude a kind of relaxed authority. No wonder we had such good feedback at the end of the night.
And of course I have to give a plug to Telltale Press – we also hold regular readings, the next of which is on Wednesday 13th April at the Lewes Arms: special guest Abegail Morley, plus Telltales Sarah Barnsley and myself are joined by Rebecca White. Rebecca is a name you may not know, but she’s very talented – a recent graduate of the University of East Anglia Creative Writing MA. We’re all very excited to hear her read, and we hope the poetry-lovers of Lewes will turn out.
Now I’ve got to decide what to read – some newer stuff, certainly – and perhaps see if I can work up one or two from memory. Eek!
The following week I’m the ‘featured poet’ at Poetry at the Underground Theatre Cafe on my home turf here in Eastbourne, which is sightly nerve-wracking (I’m not sure how many will come, and I don’t yet have many friends in Eastbourne) but I know I’ll enjoy it.
Outside each propelling constellation
but inside that feeling of boat.
It demands and bruises,
cuts pride, hardens stomachs.
[…] (‘That Feeling of Boat’)
It was such a pleasure to be at the launch of Lynne Hjelmgaard’s new collection A Boat Called Annalise last night.
Hosted by publisher Seren Books, it was a warm occasion, well attended and with an open bar (slightly dangerous when there are poets around, but Lynne assured me there was a cap!) The upstairs room at the Yorkshire Grey in Camberwell was a good venue – there seem to be a number of pubs in that area where poetry events happen, usually while a completely different set of patrons drink downstairs, unaware of the poetry doo-dads happening above.
I’ve known Lynne for a few years now, and apart from being a truly generous and gentle soul, she has a rare and quiet wisdom from which I’ve drawn great support. I admire her work, her attitude and her honesty and I’m fortunate to count her as a friend. Clearly many people feel the same way as there was a lot of love in the room.
Several of the poems in A Boat Called Annalise are familiar to me from workshopping sessions in the past. As Lynne would be getting out her poem I’d occasionally tease her ‘is it about … boats..?’
But to read them as a sequence so much is revealed – about the adventure at the core of the collection (the poet sailing across the Atlantic to the Caribbean with her late husband, and their lives there) and the relationships – between husband and wife, between the poet and the boat, the sea, the landscapes and the people.
Beautiful, tender, dream-like in parts, yes, but this is a real story about hard-won achievement and the poignancy of loss; the poems take the reader into the guts of the experience.
[…]
The no-moon night,
the dark ghostly creatures,
the slow-motion small tsunamis
engulf Annalise,
reek of rotten seaweed,
spilled oil, dead shark. (‘Night Watch’)
Last Thursday I was at Roehampton University where I’d been invited by Principal Lecturer Louise Tondeur to talk to her Creative Writing students about Telltale Press, collaborative working, the importance of submitting work to magazines, marketing your work/yourself, that sort of thing. I get a bit scared when faced by a room of people (mostly) under 21 – I find it impossible to tell if they’re interested or even listening. I suppose all my teaching experience has been with adults who are uninhibited about showing enthusiasm or appreciation, asking questions, and engaging fully. And yet the general feedback afterwards was great, and several people wanted to talk to me individually. I was even invited to the students’ showcase event to hear their work. Once again I was reminded of my great admiration for our overworked and underpaid teachers and lecturers.
Monday: to the Troubadour. Anne-Marie Fyfe’s Coffee House Poetry nights at the Troubadour are always well attended. On Monday it was standing room only, and I was lucky to get a seat. The nice thing about everyone squashing up together is you always meet new people, which is great if you go on your own. The room heaves with published poets. Plus there’s always some kind of surprise guest in the audience – or the rumour of one. It all adds to the mystique. The season finale nights are long, with over 60 poets each reading a poem. I haven’t yet made it to the end, only because I have to get the second-to-last train home (the last being over an hour later). But I always enjoy the night. It has to be the most successful poetry night in London… unless you know differently?
Last night: Hastings Stanza. One of the fun things about having relocated to Eastbourne is discovering parts of Sussex I’d never much explored before. I’ve yet to really spend time in Hastings, but it’s less than half an hour on the train and pootling over to the Stanza evenings is a pleasure.
I’ve mentioned before how Antony Mair runs the group with such an air of organised calm. And there’s always something interesting coming up – Antony and Jill Fricker are currently collaborating with local choirs on a project to mark the anniversary of the Battle of Hastings, and last night Jill brought along a lovely poem about Harold’s widow identifying him after the battle by his tattoos. Meanwhile Antony had been to a Live Canon workshop day and subsequently been invited to contribute to an anthology of responses to Shakespeare’s sonnets (another anniversary). He was kind enough to get me invited too, so more about this in another post.
Spring is definitely here – there are lots of readings coming up (more in another post) and next week I’m looking forward to the launch of Lynne Hjelmgaard’s collection A Boat Called Annalise (Seren). Having heard many of the poems in the workshop stage it will be fascinating – plus lovely to see Lynne’s poetry being celebrated. She’s a good friend and mentor, generous and modest about her writing.
As the wind howls outside and the next five-day block of rain chunters towards our heads, I’m feeling very grateful for some poetry relief this dark month.
Last Thursday we got things going at the Poetry Cafe in London, for the first Telltale Press & Friends reading of 2016. It was super to hear Faber poet Jack Underwood perform a set that included poems from his collection Happiness which I loved reading, plus some great new material. He is so original and interesting, as well as being a thoroughly nice chap. And two other thoroughly nice chaps also read – Telltale’s own Peter Kenny and Siegfried Baber. Great to see Sieg settling into a lovely reading style. (I got some nice footage of PK and Jack on my new teensy video cam, and I can see myself getting a lot of mileage from it this year.) Our fourth reader was Kitty Coles, who’s very widely published but relatively undiscovered. A talent worth looking out for – you’ve probably already seen her work in various magazines.
Then this coming Thursday it’s the first Needlewriters event of the year, in my old home town of Lewes, featuring the lovely, talented and hard-working poet Clare Best, debuting yet another of her many projects, this time a collaboration with David Pullan. Really looking forward to that. Also on the bill is Tara Gould, and in the second half a tribute to the late Irving Weinman. Irving was a founder member of the Needlewriters and was working on his eighth novel when he died aged 78 in October.
Peter Kenny and I have second row seats this year, so we’ll be up close and personal with the poets reading. Not as up close as I’ll be the following evening though, at the award ceremony. Oh yes, Robin shall go to the ball!
I’ve only really started reading poems from memory this year, but rarely an entire set. I admire those poets who not only memorise long, often VERY long poems, but communicate them with panache and seeming ease.
But is reading from memory a requirement of a memorable reading? Does reading from memory always enhance the listener’s experience? Just how much extra work are you setting yourself – and is it worth it? What if the poet’s nervous enough already – isn’t it better for them (and the audience) to stick with reading it off the page?
I asked two poet friends (and experienced poem-memorisers) to get their views on it, and also asked myself the same questions.
Tony Gill, aka Gilli Bloodaxe, has performed in clubs, a crypt, a barge and at festivals little and big. His first collection Finwas published this year by Matador. Peter Kenny is a poet, playwright and serial collaborator, having worked with musicians and writers in all kinds of genres. His pamphlet ‘The Nightwork’ was published in 2014 by Telltale Press.
Peter Kenny
What makes you want to memorise poems – particular reasons?
Peter Kenny: I’m starting to memorise my poems and try to perform them from memory when I can. I write to communicate with people, and I think shuffling and hiding behind papers is obviously a barrier. It’s nice to give the audience eye contact and focus on bringing the poems to life rather than simply reading from a page. I don’t like readings where the poet seems to be talking to themselves.
Tony Gill: I think that when a poet (or anyone actually) stands and reads, there is a physical barrier (the book, a piece of paper) between them and their audience. The poet is saying “I’m reading this poem in this book”. Without the book, it’s a more natural communication, it frees you up to move around and wave your arms, you’re telling a story like a Viking at the fireside…
Robin Houghton: Reciting from memory really feels like you’re making a connection with the audience, but you do have to make eye contact. That business of ‘focus on a point above people’s heads’ is the worst advice ever given, I think. People have told me they hear more of the poem and take in the words more intensely when they’re being spoken to rather than read to.
Do you think it’s something all poets should try to do, or does some poetry not really ‘need’ to be delivered from memory?
TG: Yes!
PK: Interestingly, the reading I found most electrifying was actually not from memory at all: I saw RS Thomas when I was a student and he read from the page without giving the titles of his poems or introductions, but was utterly brilliant.
RH: Some poems work much better from memory. But I think a poet can still deliver effectively off the book, as long as s/he adds value somehow to the audience experience. This could be (for example) looking up and making frequent eye contact with listeners, or it could be animating the poem in a way the audience wouldn’t get just from reading it on the page.
How do you go about memorising poems – do you have a routine/schedule? How much time do you think it takes to learn a new poem?
PK: It takes me several days to learn a poem. I just stand in my kitchen and say the thing over and over for ten minutes for three or four days and I usually have it. Also when you are memorising something, if it is persistently unsayable, then something’s usually wrong with it.
TG: Some are easier than others – if there’s a structure, or if they rhyme. Once I’ve learnt it, I see if I can recite it over music, which is quite distracting. The amount of time depends on the length of the poem. But generally not that long.
RH: So far I’ve only memorised reasonably short poems. If the poem’s in stanzas then that helps: I do it one stanza at a time. (If it’s not then I might temporarily reorganise it so that it is!) Lots of repetition out loud (it helps if there’s no-one around). Remembering the links between each stanza is important – the last word/phrase of one and the first word/phrase of the next. Because once you start the stanza you’re off and running.
I try to ‘see’ the overall shape – the start, the build-up, the aside, the climax etc. It can take me a while, and several actual readings, until I’m secure.
Any top tips for a poet who’s never managed to read a poem from memory – how might they go about it?
TG: Just do it!
PK: My stepdaughter is an actress and she reminded me to have a few physical movements or body positions for different bits of the poem. Using your body as well as your brain to prompt the next bit seems to work quite well for me.
RH: The only other thing I would say is to practise, and in front of an audience. Practise at the low key/low risk readings where you have enough adrenaline to make it real, but no big deal if you stumble because you’re among friends. It will build your confidence for the bigger readings. I always remember the saying “an amateur practises until they get it right, a professional practises until they can’t get it wrong”. I still have a long way to go on that score!
Have you ever dried, and what’s your advice if that happens?
PK: I have dried completely at least twice but I’m fairly philosophical about it. You’re not in the middle of a play and putting everyone else off. When you make a mistake you feel like there’s a yawning chasm of time when you are giving the reading, but the audience might not even notice as much as you think.
RH: I had a near-miss once, but held it together, and quite recently I dried completely and had to reach for the book. I was annoyed at myself but you just have to laugh and not make a thing of it. The audience doesn’t want to see you distressed.
TG: Only when I’ve had a drink, which I never ever do before a reading.
It’s been a busy week, still catching up, but I wanted to post a recap of things before we’re into the pre-Christmas week when events seem to accelerate.
Last Monday I was I privileged to be a member of the Brighton team (especially considering I now live in Eastbourne) at a Stanza Bonanza with Kent & Sussex Stanza at the Poetry Cafe. Bonanzas are the regular readings organised by Paul McGrane of the Poetry Society. They give Stanza members a chance to read at the iconic venue and meet/socialise with other Stanza poets. Always great fun, and this one was a corker. Poet friends Jill Munro and Jess Mookherjee were on the opposing team and it was lovely to hear them read, and Brighton definitely brought out the big guns – Peter Kenny, Tony Gill, Andie Davidson, Susan Evans and Marek Urbanowicz.
Thursday saw the launch reading of Clare Best’s poem ‘Cell’ which has been produced beautifully by the The Frogmore Press in a fold-out pamphlet alongside striking artwork by Michaela Ridgway. Michaela organises and generally hosts the Pighog poetry nights at the Redroaster in Brighton, but on this occasion she handed over the MC responsibility to Daisy Behagg, who did a fine job. The audience was very well behaved – not sure if that was a concession to Daisy, or just that the season finale drew a particularly high quality audience! Also on the bill were Tom Chivers of Penned in the Margins, and Stephen Payne who I seem to run into regularly at readings around the south and who was in the audience for my reading at Words & Ears last month, which was a lovely surprise. Michaela is super multi-talented, by the way – poet, artist and someone who makes things happen, on top of a big day job. Props. It was an excellent evening and I felt really energised and inspired by the poetry I heard. Here are some pics from the night:
Daisy BehaggTom ChiversMichaela Ridgway & Clare Best
Then on Friday we finally had our Telltale Press & Friends January reading all confirmed – to be held at the Poetry Cafe on Thursday 7th January, with special guest poet Jack Underwood. I’ve been a big fan of Jack’s work for a while and enjoyed his ‘putting together a pamphlet’ course at the Poetry School a couple of years ago. I loved his collection Happiness too, so I’m of course very happy that he’s reading with us alongside Telltales Siegfried Baber & Peter Kenny, and Kitty Coles. I often see Kitty’s work in magazines and heard her read at the launch of South magazine last month, so I was very pleased she agreed to join us for this event. If you’re within striking distance of London do come along – it’s free! A warm Telltale welcome awaits.
Just a quick update and a look ahead to the weekend …
I was excited to see the T S Eliot Prize shortlist, especially as it included the excellent debut collection from Sarah Howe – Loop of Jade – which I mini-reviewed on this blog a short while ago. I’ve already signed up for Katy Evans-Bush‘s excellent preview day when we look at all the shortlisted collections as curated by Katy. I went this a couple of years ago and it really enhanced my enjoyment of the readings night. Recommended! I’ve also bought a couple of the books on the list – Mark Doty’s Deep Lane and Don Paterson’s 40 Sonnets. I’m trying not to read any reviews of the books before I talk about them on the The Reading List, in case they influence me, and I’m trying so hard to learn how to review/critique.
Speaking of DP – I’ve booked to go hear him and Liz Berryread at The Print Room on 15th December…actually off the back of hearing Liz read on the podcast Transatlantic Poetry – definitely worth a browse, there’s a wonderful archive of poetry reading there.
Meanwhile I’m three sessions in to New Writing South’s ‘Advanced Poetry’ course with John McCullough and it’s really warming up. With a large number of students I suppose it always takes a while to settle down. But John’s enthusiasm and support is great. He’s giving us a crash course in poets many of us are unfamiliar with and it’s very exciting. I’m keeping notes on all the writing prompts and tips he gives us in the hope they will be useful to dip into. He’s also suggested we create an ‘anthology’ of poems that we like – in magazines, on the web, etc – type them each out and save them in a ring binder under categories that will help us refer to them later, for inspiration. It sounds a bit analogue but I thought this was a fine idea – I so often read a poem in a mag, think ‘ooh this is good’ then have trouble recalling who wrote it or where I saw it – duh! Mind you, these days one needs to be careful not to fall into the ‘I must have subconsciously been influenced by XYZ and yes my own poem came out pretty much word-for-word the same but it was all an innocent mistake!’
Last week we had a whistle-stop tour of rellie-visiting and on the way we stopped at Bradford upon Avon for Dawn Gorman‘s excellent Words & Ears event. What a privilege to be invited to read there – so many good poets in the room, and a lovely atmosphere. Thank you to everyone who came and also to those who bought pamphlets – I think this was my best reading in terms of sales!
And now to Aldeburgh! It’s my first visit to the Aldeburgh Poetry Festival and I think it’s going to be a wonderful weekend. I’m sharing a ‘sorority house’ with poet friends Clare Best and Charlotte Gann on the bracing Aldeburgh seafront. If you’re coming too, please say hello if our paths cross!
We’ve been in Eastbourne a month. It probably sounds daft but I’ve been struck at how mild it seems to be here compared to Lewes or Brighton. The latter in particular. And yet they’re only a few miles away. Maybe we don’t get those biting Brighton winds here?
But today I’ve spent all day at the computer. I have a pretty good 180 degree view of the weather from where I’m sitting and let me tell you there was no reason to go out today.
If you read my post last week you’ll know I was out and about last week though – lots of lovely readings, poetry gatherings and a very low-key talk to the ladies of the SWWJ about blogging, twitter and the like. It’s always a pleasure to read alongside wonderful poets and last week was no exception – on Friday it was an intimate affair at the Albion Beatnik in Oxford, where Martin Malone was celebrating the launch of his new collection Cur (more on that in a post very soon). My fellow readers in the warm-up act were Telltale stable-mate Siegfried Baber, Roy Marshall, Josephine Corcoran and Hilda Sheehan. I really enjoyed the evening and was sad to rush off, but after a 5 hour drive to get there I wanted to get to my bed by a reasonable hour. In fact the journey back was a mere 2 hours 40 mins which I was pleased about, although I think I may have been papped by a speed camera on the A22 – ugh. I was personally pleased with my reading as it was all from memory (three poems, all relatively short.) I’m determined to read more and more from memory, it’s such a different experience (and rescues the reading-glasses scenario.)
Last night I was at a different kind of reading, to celebrate the launch of True Tales from the Old Hill, a new anthology of life-writing essays by people living in and around Lewes, published by The Frogmore Press and the Centre for Life History and Writing Research at the University Sussex. It’s a fascinating project, not one I thought I could contribute to, but I’m glad I did. I suppose if you call it ‘creative non-fiction’ it sounds different from ‘memoir’. We heard some brilliant readings, and I especially loved the family ‘vignettes’ from poet friend Charlotte Gann, so much so that I had to read them out to my husband as soon as I got home. Classy stuff.
On Monday it was the second session of the poetry course I’m on at New Writing South, led by John McCullough. I’ve got a lot of time for John. He’s a fine poet and an enthusiastic and sensitive tutor. The group is a bit large for my liking but no doubt it will settle down. There are some talented poets in the group and I’m looking forward to what’s to come. I’ve already started 3 new poems in the last fortnight so that’s got to be a good sign.
Meanwhile I have ideas for two Eastbourne writing projects, at least one of which I’m hoping to get off the ground very soon. The photo is a clue. Both projects need a lot of research, but that in itself will be fun. I’ll keep you posted.
Ah, National Poetry Day seems to be the unofficial kickstarter of the poetry season (is that ‘open season’)? Last week saw a flurry of competition results and exciting announcements: Facebook was groaning under the weight of congratulations and almost couldn’t keep up.
First of all the Stanza Poetry Competition, won by Graham Burchell to whom I hand over my tiara (although I think it looks better on me, to be honest) and Runners Up none other than my old Brighton Stanza mates Marion Tracy and Tess Jolly. Yay!
Then lovely poet friend Abegail Morley scooped up the Canterbury Festival Poet of the Year award (not exactly from under my nose – I only made the longlist, but I would have put up a fight if I’d been there!) Hurrah!
For my own part, I’ve nothing amazing to announce but I did make the longlist for the Poetry School/Nine Arches ‘Primers’ competition. Longlisting is an interesting idea – I have to remind myself that its purpose is actually to encourage the entrants. Longlistings don’t make it onto CVs (except possibly for the National). But at least you know you came close-ish.
This week sees a lovely bumper crop of readings – on Wednesday 14th October I’ll be back on my old manor in Lewes for the launch of South Magazine 52. I was one of the selectors together with Jeremy Page of The Frogmore Papers so will be be reading a couple of poems alongside a number of the contributors including poet friends Lucy Cotterill and Miriam Patrick. The selection process for South is done anonymously, so I had no idea we’d chosen poems by Miriam and Lucy, but it was a nice surprise.
On Thursday 15th, I’m in … Lewes. Yep – like I never left! It’s the quarterly Needlewriters readings, this time featuring Matthew Stewart, Ros Barber and Caroline Clark. I’m not reading but as I’m on the committee I’m naturally there helping (?) out where possible. It’ll be nice to remind my Lewes poet friends that I haven’t actually stepped off the edge of the planet even though Eastbourne is a foreign country; they do things differently (t)here.
On Friday 16th, that somewhat rakish editor of The Interpreter’s HouseMartin Malone has kindly invited me to join him for the launch of his new collection Cur (Shoestring Press), at the Albion Beatnik Bookshop in Oxford. He’s probably hoping to placate me after rejecting the poems I sent to TIH earlier in the year – ggrrr! The other guest readers are fellow Telltale Siegfried Baber, lovely Swindon poetry impresario Hilda Sheehan and the seemingly ubiquitous Roy Marshall, who pops up in every magazine I look at these days. I last met up with Roy in the summer at a reading in Camberwell organised by Richard Skinner.
I need a good night’s sleep after getting back from Oxford because on Saturday 17th I’ll be giving a talk to the Society of Women Writers and Journalists on the subject of … well, it’s a wide open brief, so hang onto your hats, I may be flying without a parachute. But there will definitely be some tech evangelism, some uplifting female empowerment messages and some major myth busting. Wish me luck!
Last week I was deep in Telltale Press business which is probably why I didn’t post an update here. I’ve also been distracted by the process of ‘moving house’ which I put in inverted commas because I’m not entirely sure whether it’s actually happening, or just something I imagine is happening. Rather like those vivid memories we all have of things we think happened to us in the past, when in fact they didn’t. Anyway, it’s not exactly going smoothly and it’s taking far longer than expected, and I’m feeling a bit in limbo.
So I’ve been grateful for the poetry readings this month, the last of which is tonight in south London, only a few miles from where I grew up (but left when I was twenty). I haven’t yet decided whether to read any of my set-in-London poems, none of which are that cheery and more to the point I wonder if they may not be that good – why do I only think this when I’m considering reading them to a London audience? Hmmm. The invitation to read at this event came from Richard Skinner, the generous and multi-talented host of the Vanguard Readings that I go to when I can. Definitely worth the trip up to Camberwell.
Last Thursday we had a super time at the Poetry Cafe – Tamar Yoseloff & Sue Rose joined Telltales Peter Kenny, Sarah Barnsley and me for what felt like a night of strong performances. The Poetry Cafe is in Covent Garden, but it doesn’t feel like real London in the way that Camberwell or Highgate does. (I still didn’t read any London poems, though!)
Not quite sure where this blog post is going – sorry! But a quick update on things: no acceptances to report, alas, but I have been doing a little writing. Not a lot, but some. I’ve had polite rejections from Poetry Review and Antiphon. Those poems that had been tied up for months I’ve stopped waiting on, and have started reviewing and re-sending out. This seemed like a positive, proactive step.
Currently reading: the June issue of Poetry Magazine which arrived last week, with the lovely line by John Wieners on the back – “Yesterday over the cliff, today on top of it.” Also recently arrived is the Rattle Summer issue, and The Interpreter’s House 59, which is very good indeed, with strong work by some different names. Am I the only one who reads only the poems, not the stories? Unless it’s by an author I know. If I ever started a magazine it would be poetry and commentary only, no prose. That’s one of the things I love about Rattle – “poetry, translations, reviews, essays and interviews.” Although I’d like to include art as well, but I know that pushes up production costs. Oh and the other fun read I had recently was Young Bysshe by Claire Tomalin – a bite-sized romp through the early life of Shelley. I can hardly believe what he packed into his first 21 years. Astonishing.
