Tag: albion beatnik

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Readings, launches & seeds of a new project or two

view of south cliff beach Eastbourne

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.

 

memorial bench, eastbourne

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.

 

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Lewes & Oxford readings this week, plus poet friends’ success

october 2015 poetry readings

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 House Martin 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!

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Launch of The Interpreter’s House #55

Launch of The Interpreter's House 55

And so to Oxford, or the Albion Beatnik Bookstore in Jericho, to be precise. Martin Malone took over the editorship of The Interpreter’s House after the untimely death of Simon Curtis last year, and this is his second issue. I have to say, the production quality is great, I love the cover design, and it’s a cracking issue. It’s now on my ‘rotating subs’ list of magazines – I can’t subscribe to them all for ever, but I try to take 2 or 3 titles each year and then change my subs to another publication after a couple of years, which seems a fair way to do it.

It’s a generous move to introduce launch events for every issue – I wish more magazines would hold them! – but there’s a LOT of work involved, and that’s alongside having the small matter of a magazine to get done and out. With fifty-two contributors in this issue, and three issues a year… plus Martin has a new baby to cope with … well you can imagine.

I’ve had one poem in the magazine once before, when Simon was the editor, so I was thrilled to have another accepted by Martin for this issue, and even more excited to be able to read at the launch. Although there were 14 readers, the evening was beautifully paced – everyone stuck to the ‘two poem’ rule, there was plenty of time for Martin to introduce everyone, enjoy a bit of friendly banter and encourage people to mingle, drink and chat. Very relaxed and very warm. The evening ended with Merryn Williams, the IH’s first editor, reading her own poem from the magazine but also one by Simon Curtis, a fitting tribute.

For my part I was very pleased to meet Claire Dyer, whose name I knew straight away from having seen it in magazines, Stephen Bone, a Brighton Stanza member, and Helen Fletcher, who I hadn’t come across before but whose poem ‘The Drowned’ in IH 55 stood out for me, and she read a poem that had appeared in the Frogmore Papers 82 which I remembered seeing and enjoying at the time.

In the break, Martin Monahan came up to tell me he enjoyed reading my blog, which was a very nice surprise. I’m very grateful to everyone who takes the time to read this, whether or not they’re active in the Comments or ‘Likes’, and it’s always nice when someone introduces themselves and tells me what they get from it. In the second half, Martin read his witty ekphrastic poem ‘Fried eggs’. He’s widely published, including in such hardcore journals as PN Review (respect!) and clearly up and coming: watch for his name.

I didn’t win a mug in the raffle (boo!) but I did win a lovely mix tape (well, CD) – thanks, Martin! – which I listened to on the long drive home. It was the perfect soundtrack for that time of night, when the cones and ‘workers in road’ signs come out, and you’re sent on all kinds of strange diversions and motorways empty in a David Lynch moment. But that’s another story.