Category: Rejections

Why I missed the TS Eliot readings, plus the good and the bad of January

Hurray! Spring is on its way! Well, the days are lengthening at least….It’s been a busy start to the year although I don’t seem to have got any poetry written. I’ve actually mostly been reading and researching a story which might turn into (whisper it) a novel – I know, I know, and me always saying I couldn’t write fiction. It may just be a nice break from poetry, something different and even energising, at least, that’s what Peter said when I mentioned it on the podcast. Whatever it is, I’m enjoying the process. If you see me please don’t ask ‘how’s the novel coming along?’ I’ll let you know when/if there’s anything to report!

I didn’t watch the TS Eliot prize readings this year, as I’m so out of love with watching readings on Zoom. I’m sad that those evenings of sitting in the auditorium at the Festival Hall, buzzing in anticipation, or milling around in the bar looking to see who’s there, are effectively gone. I know the event was held live this year, but getting in and out of London at night on a Sunday just isn’t feasible any more. If you travel by train from the South coast it’s a mad dash at the end of the night to catch the last reasonable connection. That’s if the trains are running and it’s not a replacement bus. I used to enjoy driving up, with one or two poet friends in the car. But now it would cost £27.50 just to take my car into London, plus car park charges … oh, and the fuel. I wonder if the TS Eliot Foundation would consider holding the event in … (shudder) …. the afternoon? It would mean more of us provincials in the transport-impoverished South East could get there. Pretty please.

Now, has anyone else noticed a lot of blockages lately? I speak of the poetry magazines and their submissions funnels. Sometimes the Christmas break sluices a few things through, but I’m still waiting on all the poems I was waiting on last month. The pamphlet submission I sent to Broken Sleep sank without trace, and with no encouragement to send again it’s now off my radar. Ditto Shearsman. On the other hand I’m grateful to have a poem in the next Finished Creatures, and also one on the After… website as conceived by the indefatigable Mark Antony Owen. The site features poetry inspired by another artwork, and mine is a celebration of Hockney’s wonderful exhibition at the RA a couple of years ago which I visited between lockdowns and was moved to tears. I’m not a big writer of ekphrastic poetry usually, but couldn’t help myself. What’s nice about Mark’s site also is that you get to explain a bit about the artwork and how it inspired you. It’s here if you’re interested… 

Meanwhile on the poddy Peter’s interview with Mimi Khalvati went live last week, and once I’ve finished editing it the next interview is with Mark Fiddes. Do have a listen!

Next week in Lewes, Grace Nicols and Jackie Wills are in conversation at a Lewes Live Lit event which I’m looking forward to going to. Two interesting, long-lived and accomplished poets talking about their craft. Live and in-person, no doubt with many poet friends in the audience. Hurray! I feel my blood pressure lowering just at the thought of it.

Currently inspired by…

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

cover of T S Eliot book

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

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

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

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

So this is Christmas, and what have I done?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trying to write the next poem

I’ve just been editing an interview I did with the wonderful Kim Addonizio recently, for Planet Poetry. I’m a huge fan of Kim’s and in my keenness not to sound like a goofy fangirl I’m slightly worried I wasn’t complimentary enough or warm enough. Which is probably silly. But there was something very reassuring about hearing her say (when asked what are you working on now) ‘I’m just trying to write the next poem’.

The other day I queried a magazine about a submission I made in March, only to be told the poems had been rejected months ago but for some reason I never got the memo – they were extremely apologetic, which makes it worse in that I couldn’t feel annoyed with them! So that led me back to my submissions record, and the realisation that I’ve had 31 poems rejected by magazines this year so far and only two accepted. In my defence, I’m not sending as many poems out as I used to, because I’m writing more of what I think of as ‘collection’ poems, which don’t necessarily stand alone. I know that placing poems gets harder all the time as the sheer number of poets submitting to mags keeps increasing (and hey! I’ve done my bit to help that! I must be mad!) but I also know that good (enough) quality will out. It’s just hitting that good enough sweet spot is all. And all a poet can do is just try to write the next damn poem.

Anyway, all this takes me back to poets like Kim – both her poetry and her wise words on the craft. Her Ordinary Genius is never far from my desk. When I find snippets that really speak to me I collect them and stick them on the wall: ‘the language we reach for first is the language we know’ (not a good thing, in case that wasn’t clear!)…’if a poem goes nowhere it’s dead’ …. ‘write colder’… And then there are her witty, eye-opening, multi-layered, highly original poems with all their many, many ‘I wish I’d written that’ moments.

Do subscribe to Planet Poetry if you’re interested in hearing the interview (and interviews with tons of other great poets). Look for it wherever you get your podcasts.

titles by Kim Addonizio
Books by Kim Addonizio

Meet-ups, currently reading & other distractions

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.

 

– and + and so it goes

A teeny bit of a moan

How’s things with you? Well, I hope. During the first lockdown I was happy to enjoy the garden and revel in the novelty of it all. I trusted (more or less) what we were being told. I admit I’m feeling a bit ground down by it all now.

I’ve just deleted an entire paragraph I wrote here, as I deemed it too negative. All the planning and hoping is what keeps me going I think, but it feels exhausting trying to stay glass-half-full while under what feels like the constant attack of glass-half-empty people. I don’t want to add to the negativity with my own angst, so let’s move on.

So now the positive

My booklet on getting published in UK poetry mags is selling even better than the first edition – wowsers! And THANK YOU for buying it, telling your friends/students/social media contacts all about it.

Planet Poetry, the podcast I co-host with Peter Kenny, is generating some lovely comments. Thank you for that too! Working with Peter on the podcast has been one of the things keeping me positive.

There’s so much I’m enjoying about the course I’m doing, not least of all how it’s opening my eyes to so much great poetry and ideas about poetry that I’d never have encountered otherwise. My bookshelf is bulging. There’s enough reading there to keep me going for the rest of my life, I think.

We’re still planning on having a scaled-down Lewes Singers Christmas concert: venues and singers booked, music distributed. It’ll be intimate. But OH HOW MUCH Nick and I want it to happen, even if we’re only singing to ourselves and a handful of friends and family.

Right, I’m off to a Zoom seminar on the poetics of Don Paterson and Ben Lerner (whose novel 10:04 I absolutely loved.)

Have a good weekend, and here’s to the free life that we took so much for granted. May it return.

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. 

Rejections, invitations, forthcoming events & what I’m reading

Despite feeling quite positive about what I’m writing at the moment, I’ve started the year with rejections from two magazines.

As usual, when I checked what it was I sent out, I thought well OK I guess it wasn’t my best work. But that can’t be right, because I remember being happy with it before sending. So who knows what kind of mind-bending reverse-psychology self-help bullshit I’m trying to pull on myself. Anyway, I wasn’t too aggrieved, partly because they were magazines I hadn’t tried before. And also I think I’m robust enough not to get too hung up on rejections these days.

I still have a handful of poems out and awaiting judgement. The question is – do I dare send out any of the new material? Or re-send the old stuff? Although I’m working around just a couple of themes at the moment, with en eye to a collection, part of me thinks I still need to get some of the individual poems published. Even though experience tells me that many new collections contain only a small percentage of published poems, if the ‘acknowledgements’ sections are to be believed.

A few interesting things on the horizon

The indomitable Helen Eastman of Live Canon has invited me, as one of the four 2019 pamphleteers, to read at the Boulevard Theatre in London on March 8th, at its weekly Sunday Service series. We all had our joint launch at the Boulevard in November, in the bar, and it was a brilliant event. I’m so glad this time I won’t have to rush off to get the last train home. I’m so hoping I can persuade friends to come to this, as my only invitee to make the Live Canon launch was lovely non-poet friend Lucy, who is such a stalwart at supporting me. Let’s see.

I was recently asked if I would judge a poetry competition for a local writers’ group, and of course I’m flattered. But with great power comes great responsibility! Being a closed competition there won’t be a huge number of entries, however they do expect feedback. I think it will be fun though.

Last week I was at the National Poetry Library in London perusing the magazines with a view to updating my quarterly list of poetry magazines, submissions criteria and windows. There are quite a few ‘artisanal’ mags among the collection – limited edition, handmade, quirky formats etc – and I was also reminded how poetry journals come and go. Magazine publishing is a tough job, for sure. Many are called to it, not so many manage to keep it going. And yet alongside the artisanal and the fleeting are the grandees that have been going 50, 70, 100 years. If you’re not on the list but would like to receive the update,  please sign up on my ‘About’ page. Next update beginning of March.

On Saturday 22nd February it’s the Free Verse Poetry Book Fair in London, back at Conway Hall. It feels like it’s been ages since the last one so it’ll be a pleasure to re-visit. I’ll be helping out Jeremy Page on the Frogmore Press table in the afternoon – please come and say hello if you’re there!

Currently reading

This month’s random shelf-pick is R F Langley’s Complete Poems (Carcanet 2015) which I’m reading through without pausing to re-read anything until I reach the end (much in the style of my ‘Reading List‘ project). Having not read anything of his before it wasn’t quite what I was expecting. I’m not far enough through to come to any conclusion yet.

One collection I keep going back to is Kim Addonizio’s Wild Nights (Bloodaxe 2015). I’m back into it again this month. Kim’s work is such a palate-cleanse and there’s always something new in it for me.

Dante’s Paradiso has slipped down the pile a little – I’m finding it the toughest of the three Divine Comedy Cantiche. I’m dipping in and out of it though.

Coming up: I have Anthony Wilson’s The Afterlife (Worple Press 2019) in my to-read pile, and am looking forward to it. Anthony is undergoing a self-imposed ‘digital detox’ at the moment, the results of which I await with interest.

Just arrived: The Rialto 93 – a quick glance tells me there are some new-to-me names and some experimental-looking poems. Interesting…

My 2019 submissions: successes & fails | poetry blog

One of the things about statistics is you can present them is whatever light you wish: draw attention to this rather than that, show a percentage of X rather than Y because it looks more impressive, leave stuff out willy-nilly because most of your audience won’t know what it is you’re not declaring. Pick up any newspaper to see how the same raw data gets worked over by different editorial hands until red is actually blue, or vice versa.

So on that note, here are my fulsome and unbiased (?) stats regarding the past year in poetry submissions. A bit of throat-clearing first of all though.

The caveats

Despite keeping (I thought) detailed records, it was tricky to determine exactly how many different poems I sent out, across magazines and competitions, particularly as a few of them changed titles through the year. I then wanted to say how many in total went out to magazines and how many to competitions, and how many were ‘successful’ (not always easy to define) –  although some went to both, others were rejected at first then found a home somewhere else. Ugh!

Then there are the percentages… is the ‘success rate’ the number of poems accepted by magazines as a percentage of all poems sent to magazines, or of all different/unique poems sent? (The latter generally looks better!)

Let’s cut to the numbers

Total number different (unique) poems submitted this year: 39

Magazines: 29 different poems sent to magazines, some sent out more than once so 34 sent in total, of which 23 were declined and 11 accepted by 5 print magazines and one online. If my workings-out are correct this means 32% of submissions were accepted.

Competitions (individual poems): total of 13 poems (10 unique plus 3 of those included in the ‘sent to magazines’ count) submitted 23 times to 13 competitions, of which 1 was longlisted, one ‘highly commended’ (both of these were published in anthologies) and 1 shortlisted. Success rate = depends on your criteria. It’s basically zero, but you could say, well 13% of total competition entries got somewhere. But number of winning or placed = 0.

Competitions (pamphlet): 2 pamphlets submitted to 4 competitions of which 1 was a winner, 1 declined and 2 no contact (when the organisers don’t bother to tell the entrants they haven’t won, or even that the winners have been announced) Success rate= 25%

Of the 39 different poems sent out, alongside the 11 in magazines and the 2 published in competition anthologies, another 6 appeared in my Live Canon pamphlet published November. So 19 out of 39 found homes (49%).

That leaves me with twenty left to play with at the moment, including that one that was shortlisted in the Bridport (but not named, so still eligible for magazines). Incidentally, that poem had already come nowhere in two other much smaller competitions. I’ve also got six poems currently out and a fair amount of new work in the pipeline but not yet sent out.

How it compares to previous years

I keep changing my reporting, so year on year comparisons aren’t always helpful. 2018 was a thin year (4 poems in print magazines, 4 in anthologies. But I did have a pamphlet published -maybe I was too busy doing readings and whatnot. I feel like I was still writing, but just not sending much out.  Plus it was a great summer, so I basically spend six months gardening. 2017 was better – 10 poems in print magazines, 3 online and 1 in a good anthology.

I realise these this doesn’t look like a big output. When work comes back I don’t tend to send it straight out again, although I know that works for some people. I typically mull on things for ages. This perhaps works against me when (occasionally) an editor says something like ‘please send something else’. Because invariably I don’t have anything else remotely suitable for some time, and by the time I do send something else they’ve forgotten me anyway.

What’s currently in the bag?

At the moment, on the spreadsheet below the 6 that are ‘CURRENTLY OUT’, I have a number of other categories:

‘TO WORK ON’ (meaning I thought they were finished but they’ve been turned down at least once.) – 3

‘NOT OUT’ (poems that have passed through the ‘TO WORK ON’ category, or that I’ve sent out and reworked numerous times, I think they have merit but can’t bring myself to send them out again… yet) – 9

‘PROBABLY RUBBISH’ (poems I’m slightly embarrassed about but haven’t quite given up on yet.  Some of these go back years. I think of it as Poem Purgatory – every now and then I open one up to have another look. They must have something, otherwise they wouldn’t even be on the spreadsheet. Some of my favourite titles are languishing here. Poems do occasionally go from being ‘PROBABLY RUBBISH’ to ‘NOT OUT’ and then get published in fancy mags. But progress is usually in the other direction) – 21

The current and newest work-in-progress don’t appear on the spreadsheet; that only happens when I first send something out. I also ought to mention that a good few poems go from being rejected straight to the ‘declined’ sheet without even making the ‘PROBABLY RUBBISH’ category. The only chance they have of being revived is if/when I browse through folders of old poems and might spot signs of life.

What about the finances?

UGH. I’m sorry to admit that in 2019 I’ve spent £95 on individual poem competition entries and £84 on pamphlet competitions. his was all possible because of the ‘How to submit to poetry magazines’ booklet that I wrote and published end of last year – I told myself I’d use the profit from that on poetry fees and magazine subscriptions this year. But most of it’s gone now, and with competition winnings at zero pounds I just have to think of those entry fees as donations.

A few New Year resolutions

I’ve decided that in 2020 I won’t be entering any competitions. None where you pay an entry fee, anyway. I generally spend around £75 a year on magazine subscriptions, and I’ll carry on doing this as they are the lifeblood of the poetry world. You always have something in your hand to show for a subscription, and many magazines are real works of art. I’m going to send more poems to magazines. I also want to give more time to writing generally, without trying to whip up ‘competition poems’. Maybe I can pull together a full collection. Or just write more poems on the themes I’ve been thinking a lot about lately. I’m leaving it open and not putting pressure on myself. But no comps for at least a year is my goal.

I know that some poets don’t enter comps at all, often because they find the idea of a ‘poetry competition’ completely at odds with the creativity of writing. I’m not sure that’s me. But I do think comps have an addictive quality (“I’ll just enter one more competition and this could be the Big One!”), and breaking the habit (for me at least) requires a complete break. Let’s see if I can stick to it.

 

Let’s talk about failures…

There’s something that happens more and more on Twitter that makes me feel slightly queasy. But I also hesitate to say this, because it might not go down well. It’s the habit of (as soon as the results of a competition are out) dashing off a tweet to the effect of: ‘Congratulations to all the winners [of Comp Name]! Amazed and humbled to see my poem [on the shortlist/among the Commendeds]!’

There’s nothing wrong with saying ‘well done’ to other poets, surely? So by griping about it, does that make me a sore loser/ grumpy person /antisocial member of the poetry community? Possibly all of those, but I hope not. My queasiness comes from observing what looks like an exaggerated pleasure in others’ successes on the part of the tweeter, whilst at the same time sneaking in the fact that he/she was commended/shortlisted or whatever, thereby starting yet another chain of ‘Congratulations!’ tweets etc. I try not to go on about my distaste for ‘humblebragging’, but this new trend of congratulating ‘all the winners’ (presumably including a number of poets completely unknown to the tweeter) seems to be humblebragging by any other name. It appears to be widespread, and it feels like a relatively new phenomenon.

You may be thinking ‘well if she doesn’t like it, she can always unfollow/mute’. True. And sometimes I actually do, but I prefer not to, as the ‘offending’ tweets are frequently made by people whose tweets I generally enjoy and want to hear from. As I said, it’s so widespread it’s become normal everyday behaviour. But the queasiness continues. Why do I feel this way? Am I really the only one?

Recently, as a response to someone announcing that to be on a shortlist they felt like ‘a winner’, I asked them if it wouldn’t feel even better to actually be the winner. The reply was that ‘I find it easier to be happy for other people’s successes’ – now I may be reading this wrongly but the implication was ‘…than my own’. This was from someone who’s had plenty of successes.

Is the world really so full of altruistic people who truly, genuinely, find more pleasure in the success of others than in their own? Or are they reluctant to admit it on social media, for whatever reason – fear of looking big-headed, or of people not liking them, or just a preference to go along with the cheerleading norms, or even a worry that to celebrate ones own success means to put others down…I do hope the last one isn’t the case, because I think it’s mistaken.

Look at this way: if we stopped congratulating ourselves at making a longest/shortlist/commended, and only invited or offered congratulations to those placed 1st, 2nd or 3rd, then the vast majority of us would not be winners. At the moment it looks like literally everyone is winning something, and that’s very disheartening to those poets who never get anywhere in competitions. (I find it disheartening myself, and I do sometimes get somewhere. And however pleased I may be with a shortlisting, I am always disappointed not to have won.) It can also look like a coterie of winning poets continuously congratulating each other.

I read another comment recently, in which someone apparently was so upset not to get ‘on a list’ that they felt they may give up and stop writing. The responses to this were concerned and supportive, with someone else pointing out that ‘you have to remember that no-one talks about their failures on social media, only their successes.’ But can we reasonably expect people to remember this? Was this person feeling that way due to his/her tweetstream giving the impression that the whole world was on the bloody list except them?

It’s been said plenty of times before. Social media (and the internet long before social media) is a goldfish bowl of performative behaviour. I think those of us who spend a lot of time on it have a responsibility to remember that. There was a time when out-and-out self-promotion seemed to take over Facebook and Twitter (which was a big reason why I left Facebook some years ago). The rule of ‘Twitizenship’ now seems to be: only promote one’s own successes if at the same time you shout about everyone/anyone else’s.

And failures? Someone once said they hated the way some people filled up Facebook with their bad news, which no-one wants to be dragged down by. And yet, whenever I talk about my many poetry rejections on this blog, it gets the most positive comments. It would certainly be refreshing to see the odd ‘for the tenth year running I came nowhere in the Bridport’ on Twitter. But who wants to be accused of sour grapes?

I just wish we could a) talk more realistically (and more often) about the fact that the vast majority of poems don’t win prizes, as this may help us all to put things in perspective, b) worry a little less about keeping up a saintly/sanitised appearance on social media, and c) put the brakes on the ‘congratulations’ circulars: by all means send a DM, but no-one needs to be congratulated publicly/anonymously on Twitter for being on a shortlist, in my humble opinion. Am I making a mountain out of a molehill? Am I just being grumpy?