Anne-Marie Fyfe – Robin Houghton

Blog/ 05/11/2018

The new ‘How to’ guide is finally done…

Things have been a bit quiet on this blog for the last month, mainly because I’ve been full-on with the new booklet which arrived from the printers today – hurrah! More about that below… a quick zip through other news:

Workshops, readings etc

Last month I went up to London for a Coffee-House Poetry workshop with Anne-Marie Fyfe over two Sunday afternoons. The subject was ‘snow’ and all its freezing friends. We were asked to write a ‘lyric essay’ as homework, which resulted in my researching the myriad words for snow according to (no, not Inuit – that’s a myth) SKIERS. It took me back to my snowboarding days (sigh) and phrases like ‘crud’, ‘corduroy’ and ‘mash potato’. There were a number of new ones on me too. ‘Sierra Cement’ for starters. Great fun. Did I write anything that could be worked up into anything? Not sure really but at least it got me writing.

I’ve been to some lovely readings this month: at Needlewriters the very talented Liz Bahs read from her pamphlet Greyhound Night Service (Maquette) (which is on my pile to read, together with about ten other books) and announced that very day she’d just heard that Pindrop Press are to publish her first full collection next year. Great news and long-deserved. Then a triple launch for Lewes writers Jeremy Page (London Calling published by Cultured Llama is a book of short and flash fiction and what I’ve read so far has been very funny), Kay Syrad (Inland – Cinnamon Press – and another on my to read list!) and Clare Best. Clare’s memoir, The Missing List (Linen Press), has been many years in the writing. Clare’s beautiful prose, her presentation of the narrative through fragments, lists, descriptions of cine films and the melding of the distant and near-pasts is mesmeric. The slow revealing of the truth painfully mirrors the process of the author as she tries to recall conversations and make sense of what happened. Extraordinary.

On 29th October I read a poem at the Troubadour in London – we’d been asked to write something especially for the evening so since it was my birthday I went with a little ‘found’ poem gleaned from the Hallmark.com website. I was inspired by knowing that Zaffar Kunial used to work as a copywriter for Hallmark. Anyway, DESPITE my having stumbled on the last line (I believe it was the poetry reading equivalent of ‘stacking it’) I had at least half a dozen people come up to me during the evening to say they enjoyed it. Unprecedented! Maybe my stumble was still on my mind last Friday when I read alongside Jeremy Page and Peter Philips at Camden Poetry, a regular poetry event to raise money for the London homeless. It was a small audience, and rather quiet – I felt my confidence wavering somewhat, and didn’t sell any books. Perhaps I chose the wrong poems to read. Later this month I’m off to Chichester Open Mic hosted by Barry Smith, which I’ve been told attracts a warm and full crowd, so I shall look forward to it.

Declined … again

So my carefully (I thought) composed ‘Develop your creative practice’ application to the Arts Council was rejected. I was asking for a modest contribution towards the costs of mentoring, to help me put together a first collection. The judgement was that they ‘preferred other projects’. Poor old page poetry just isn’t exciting enough I guess. It’s a minor setback but of course a bit annoying. Meanwhile I’ve had work rejected from The Poetry Review (am still trying!) and there are poems still on the slush pile at three other journals – one since February. Ho hum!

The Booklet!

Yes I’m calling it that, rather than ‘book’, so as not to raise expectations unreasonably. Although I’m rather proud of its 32 pages. A Guide to Getting Published in UK Poetry Magazines is now published on the Telltale Press imprint and orders are being taken as I type, thanks to some lovely people retweeting it (thanks chaps!). I had a lot of fun compiling it. Asking magazine editors for their thoughts on various things and reading the replies was one of the funnest things. Wrestling with the layout, edits and other tech issues was less fun, BUT I had the eagle-eyed and massively supportive Sarah Barnsley on my side, finding stray spaces and querying dodgy grammar in her thorough but very polite fashion. I hope you like the result!! I’ve got a landing page up here where you can buy it. Please forgive all the ‘about the author’ puffery, but I felt the need to parade my creds, as it were, in order to sell the darn book.

If you’re on my list for the quarterly submissions windows updates, you’ll get an email about it this week. Now for the really tricky bit: selling the bejesus out of it. It’s a groovy stocking filler! Tell your poetry writing friends!

Events/ 17/05/201718/05/2017

Standing room only at the Troubadour

Anne-Marie Fyfe at the Troubadour Coffee-House poetry

To be fair, I did have a seat for the first half, but with the sciatica playing up I was happy to stand for the second. Plus it meant a quick getaway at the end with poet friend Jan, and the last (viable) train home.

Coffee-House Poetry at the Troubadour (run by the indefatigable Anne-Marie Fyfe) is always worth the trip to London – I always feel I’m being introduced to interesting and often very fine poets who aren’t necessarily on my radar (for example, who don’t frequent social media and/or are not over-exposed at poetry readings and/or are not UK-based). It’s an intense reminder of the very wide poetry world out there.

On Monday, we heard eight poets, six of whom were new to me, and musical entertainment from Henry Fajemirokun.

Michael Scott (who I know from Swindon Poetry Festival) kicked things off, with a series of poems ostensibly addressed to a ‘little usherette’, but he told us were actually about all the big themes – love, loss, death, family and so forth. I was transfixed for most of the time by his ‘Attack of the 50ft Woman’ T-shirt (which did come into one of the poems). Also in the first half were Alistair Noon, Penny Boxall and Claire Dyer. I knew Penny’s name but don’t think I had heard her read before, and I found her engaging. Claire I met originally at an Interpreter’s House launch, and who I always enjoy hearing read, plus we’re also social media friends. I admire both her poetry and her calm delivery.

Boxall-Dyer-Noon- Troubadour poetry readings — Penny Boxall, Claire Dyer, Alistair Noon

Poetry readings always seem to offer up a myriad ways in which I might put my foot it in. This time the only seat I could find happened to be at close quarters to a table with a plate of half-finished food. It appeared to have been pushed to the edge. I assumed the people at the table had finished with it. It smelt. This was a hot, crowded room, after all. So I picked up the plate and started to take it away to the bar, when someone at the table said ‘excuse me’ and asked for it back. Fair enough. But it never did get finished, or cleared away. But by the time the interval came, the air was ripe with the combined respiration of 70 or 80 people in a basement room, so maybe this is a moot point.

Second half, as seen from a different viewpoint – Ruth Sharman read poems about the slow and desperately sad demise of her father. She is incredibly well-spoken (a slightly old-fashioned phrase, I know) and delivered her work with great style. We also heard from Jon Stone (who I remember as co-editor of Fuselit with Kirsten Irving) who looks far younger than he could POSSIBLY be (now that’s the kind of compliment I would relish), Elaine Gaston (whose work I enjoyed so much I forgot to take a photo – and who had the confidence to finish when we were expecting and wanting more) and Nick Makoha to end, whose introductions were excellent but I liked so much of his poetry, although he suffered from one or two stumbles during the poems.

Sharman, Stone, Mahoka - Troubadour poetry readings — Henry Fajemirokun, Ruth Sharman, Jon Stone and Nick Mahoka

I came away with a distinct impression of which of the poets I would like to read more of, and also quite a few takeaway thoughts – on what to wear for a reading, on engaging with the audience, on improving my diction and vocal tone (I couldn’t help cringing again thinking about my recent performance at the Eyewear launch), on practising, practising, practising…

Jan kindly took the same train as me until we parted at Haywards Heath, and I continued in the company of a zillion Chelsea fans as far as Lewes, then onto a replacement bus to Eastbourne, and to my bed by 1am.

It had been an excellent day in many ways – before even the Troubadour night earlier the day I’d had a poem accepted by the excellent Prole magazine, been to the hospital for the dreaded tests and finally (after a week of worry) pronounced ALL CLEAR. For now, of course. Everything is for now. But no less the sweeter for it.

Blog/ 13/02/201713/02/2017

Both sides now

A smooth drive to London yesterday for Anne-Marie Fyfe’s newest workshop, on the theme of clouds. As in ‘I wandered lonely as…’, or ‘from both sides now..’ And yes, Joni Mitchell did make an appearance, as did Debussy, Django Reinhardt, Billy Collins, Emily Dickinson, John Lennon, The Wizard of Oz and a range of Surrealist art, amongst others.

I’ve said this before, but I really do think these workshops are the best I’ve experienced. With so much stimulation – verbal, visual, musical – the sheer pace of it (although it never feels hurried), and the continuous nature of the exercises, you have no time to lose focus. It doesn’t matter if something doesn’t ‘click’ because there’s another question or exercise coming right up. Nothing seems to distract, not even the relentless traffic and sirens of the Old Brompton Road. You are immersed, coming up for air after two hours and wondering where the time went. Anne-Marie plans these workshops well in advance. Not only are there plenty of materials and handouts but it’s obvious that a huge amount of work and thought has gone into the workshop design.

In the late 1990s I visited the Georgia O’Keeffe museum in Santa Fe and became a fan – I couldn’t afford actual prints but came away with frameable posters of three of her paintings, my favourite of which is one of a series called ‘Sky above Clouds’ (pictured above). Last year the Tate Modern in London ran a Georgia O’Keeffe exhibition (the first in the UK, I think) – I was excited to see on display another Sky above Clouds, and realised I’d forgotten how BIG the canvases are.

I thought of this painting during the workshop, and was also prompted to remember how, as a child, I thought of clouds as 2D objects, decorating the sky, just as O’Keeffe depicts them, which perhaps explains why her painting appeals so much to me. I think I was well into adulthood before I had any appreciation of the scale of clouds, of their 3D shapes, of the distances involved. Seeing them from planes was a shock – how clouds can gather in huge towering columns unseen from below, and how the highest clouds are still way above you even when you’re above the cumulus.

Most of the participants came up with new poems or the beginnings of new writing. I was more moved to get out an old poem which has been on the back burner since 2013 – something in the workshop triggered new ideas about how to revive it. That’s not to say I didn’t also come away with fresh ideas, I certainly did – and twelve pages of notes.

Coffee-House Poetry Classes at the Troubadour on Sunday afternoons – great value for money and highly recommended.

Blog/ 29/11/201629/11/2016

Coffee-House Poetry at the Troubadour

Getting to and from London from the south coast is ten times harder than it used to be these days, as the rail company (which has a monopoly) has been running an unsatisfactory service for the last however many months – actually it could be a year or more. Two-day strikes pop up every three weeks or so, and that’s on top of the already reduced timetable. Trains are regularly cancelled at the last minute, even halfway through journeys. As a result, every time the train you’re on actually leaves a station you breathe a sigh of relief that it hasn’t terminated there. Factor in the cold and dark of night, and the prospect of going anywhere by train is rather stressful. And I have a choice at least – the situation for those millions of people who have to travel by Southern Rail every day for work must be unbearable.

So it was a joy to actually make it to the Troubadour last night for Coffee-House Poetry. The second half was ‘What we should have said’, a regular feature described by Anne-Marie Fyfe in the promotional email as “three very different poets, a musician & a proverbial wit, thrust & parry with poetic, harmonic & philosophic contributions, comical, tragical, pastoral & beyond”. It was a wonderful spectacle, a really impactful way of presenting poetry, with Martina Evans (LOVED her work!), the excellent Luke Kennard, US poet Louis Jenkins and ‘What we should have said’ impresario Stuart Silver bouncing off each others’ words, linked together by Marios Takoushis’ jazzy/soulful/arthouse improvisations on the keyboard. The top-class sound management at the Troubadour cafe makes a huge difference here – it’s so noticeable how a reliable and effective sound system allows the performers and the poetry to shine, and the audience to relax and take it in.

In the first half we heard from 21 of the contributors to Live Canon’s 154 Anthology, each reading their response to a Shakespeare sonnet, and a few words about it. I was very proud to be a part of this book and the range of responses and poet voices is fascinating. The book does include ALL of Shakespeare’s sonnets, as well as the ‘response’ poems, so it makes for a very nice (ahem!) Christmas present, even for someone with no special interest in contemporary poetry.

Blog/ 07/06/2016

‘The future of poetry’ – Coffee House Poetry at the Troubadour

So, to the Troubadour last night for poetry, discussions about poetry and the big bad world of digital – a ‘colloquy’ of five poets from diverse backgrounds. In the first half we had readings from Carrie Etter, Hannah Lowe, Gregory Leadbetter and Richard Price, and in the second they formed a round table chaired by C J Dallat.

I’ve not been to a Troubadour colloquy before – it wasn’t as packed as the themed nights can be, but then again it was up against several other events including the launch across town of Luke Kennard’s Cain (Penned in the Margins).

The format was a good balance – very different poets, none of whom I’d heard read before (except Hannah Lowe, but I’m not sure if I’d seen her live or on video). I particularly enjoyed Carrie’s short but electrically charged set. When I said hello to her in the interval it turned out she reads this blog (thanks, Carrie!) …it was also a pleasure to meet Richard Price and to thank him for recently selecting my poem ‘The Houses are Coming’ for Poetry News (yeah, just thought I’d get that in – I’m learning!)

So what’s the future of poetry, in a time when the internet and technology such as print-on-demand put publication in the reach of just about anyone?

There was some agreement that print publication still carries more kudos than online, with Cahal Dallat even suggesting that magazines have gotten so big and so numerous that maybe they’re just publishing everything they’re sent, with no sense of gatekeeping. (Although I wonder if he hasn’t had to go through the magazines submissions process recently?!)

Richard Price bemoaned the fact that digital just isn’t fulfilling its potential yet, and that as a creative person he wants to do more stuff differently. It’s true that just replicating online what print does perfectly well does seem to be the slightly disappointing standard at the moment.

Cahal then brought up the idea of links within digital text (or lack of). I have to agree with him, but sadly the positioning of links within (for example) news stories was hijacked a while back by advertisers who thought it was a jolly way to insert more ‘information’ (ie ads) in a piece. It did remind me of a project I did for my Digital Media MA sixteen years ago, which was an alternative website for The Royal Pavilion in which internal hyperlinking allowed the viewer to explore the building and its history in a non-linear fashion. Typical media degree stuff and probably not commercial. But maybe I need to get my poetry thinking cap on and be more creative in this way. Then again I’m sure it’s already happening and that digital creativity has gone way beyond throwing in a bit of video or animation. Someone did mention hyperreality but let’s not go down the whole Baudrillard road now although this is quite an entertaining video if you’re curious (but do not watch if you are of a nervous disposition!)

One thing I was burning to say but missed my chance (and then went off the boil) was that I don’t think it’s helpful to characterise young people as ‘digital natives’ and somehow innately tech-capable, which was suggested at one point. The flip side of this theory is that anyone who didn’t grow up with mobiles and touch screens is incapable of getting their heads around anything digital. I know from my work with people my age and thereabouts (sometimes a lot younger) that there is a ton of defeatism when it comes to tech. Completely intelligent and utterly capable people throw up their hands when it comes to mobile phones, computers not doing what they expect or any mention of Snapchat. But kids! They can do it their sleep! Oh yeah?

Actually, I’ve heard my husband say MANY times how surprised he is that his sixth form students can be clueless when it comes to technology – they lack basic digital skills such as how to search for information online or how to assess what they do find. They don’t know how things work. At all. But what young people have is a lack of fear. They don’t fear tech and they don’t fear gadgets, and they don’t fear the consequences of messing about with tech. They have the attitude ‘I don’t know how to do this but I’ll fiddle around until I find a way’ – something that is as rare as rare can be in your average over-40-year-old. I really think that fear is the key inhibitor to our full exploitation of new technologies, not age. Please can we pass this idea on, and thereby liberate us oldsters once and for all from the shackles of ‘we’re not digital natives so it’s harder for us’ ? Thanks.

Oh dear, not having taken notes last night I seem to have turned this post around into a bit of a rant rather than recording faithfully what the panel came up with… sorry. But it was genuinely stimulating and the audience was lively. Great stuff.

Big thanks as ever to Anne-Marie Fyfe for organising these Coffee House Poetry nights, they are gems.

A shame that Southern Rail are still keeping up their go-slow, which meant I didn’t get to my bed before 1am. The price to pay for living by the sea…

Blog/ 23/05/201623/05/2016

Coffee-House poetry workshops with Anne-Marie Fyfe

Last weekend I was at the Troubadour in London on a Sunday afternoon for one of Anne-Marie Fyfe’s themed writing workshops. It was intense without feeling like hard work – I felt I’d been challenged and came away with a number of useful seedlings of ideas that may one day make their way into poems or other creative writing. Which is, I think, the best possible result.

Writing workshops are a funny thing – as a participant, I often quickly get irritated or restless when invited to do a piece of ‘free writing’ or ‘imagine you’re five years old and you’ve just seen your first elephant’ or whatever. More often than not, nothing comes into my head, or else I just write reams of nonsense which just makes my hand ache. If it goes on for too long I look around at everyone else furiously writing and feel a bit resentful that I’m wasting precious writing time trying to write about ‘a time in my life when… [insert insignificant episode here].’ And then I get fed up with the silences when the open questions come, and get annoyed at those who never say anything.

I realise this all sounds very snitty and you’re right to be thinking ‘well don’t go to any bloody writing workshops then!’ But I’m ever the optimist, so I do still occasionally put myself through it. And when I’ve had a really good experience I want to tell people about it.

There are a number of reasons why Anne-Marie’s sessions are so good. The time is well-organised and the sessions run to enough of a pattern to make regular participants know what to expect. Exercises are open enough to allow for individual interpretation but focused enough to pull you into the task. And they come thick and fast – so if one exercise doesn’t resonate you don’t have time to start wishing you were elsewhere, because something different is then sprung on you. As well as her considerable experience and sense of fun, Anne-Marie brings a big range of material to trigger thoughts – images, books, poems, even music – and has a wonderfully inclusive manner. There is a good chunk of time in which you are left alone to work something up. And everyone is encouraged (gently but firmly!) to take part – in reading things aloud, talking about their responses to the exercises or the source material and commenting on other people’s work.

It’s probably no coincidence that these workshops seem to attract a lot of ‘serious’ poets, often from quite a distance – and serious poets want to be in workshops with people they perceive to be at least as serious about it as they are. So the whole thing becomes a virtuous circle.

Anne-Marie’s Troubadour workshops are always full and as result she tends to repeat them later in the season. The one I went to, on the theme of ‘Invisible Cities’, is running again next Sunday 29th May, and I would highly recommend it – £28 well spent.

Blog/ 10/03/2016

Readings, talks, good poetry stuff on the horizon

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.

The Hastings Stanza poets are taking part in a World Poetry Day event in Eastbourne on March 21st and a Stanza Bonanza in London in April. All good stuff.

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.

Angst/ 19/01/2016

Post-TS Eliot Prize post, and a tale of two gaffes

The first two and a half weeks of January have been a bit of a poetry whirl (in the sense of lots of events) and although I’m now happy I’m a bit exhausted, not to mention in need of a reality-check catchup with, er, work stuff.

Last week was the excitement of the T S Eliot Prize readings (and a rather cold car journey there and back since the heating packed up.) Some excellent readings and a super atmosphere – I won’t review it here but there are plenty of interesting accounts of the evening, and photos – for example on Peter Kenny’s blog and Hilaire’s blog.

Then the very next day I hauled my smart-ish self up to London again, this time to the V & A for the T S Eliot prize giving ceremony. I won’t lie to you, this was daunting. I looked around and knew virtually nobody, at least, nobody who would greet me as someone they knew. Even the lovely folks from the Poetry Society, who I thought did know me, were a bit vague when I said hello in the queue to get in, and didn’t give off the ‘come chat to us’ vibe. I was very grateful to Anne-Marie Fyfe, who I did approach and who greeted me warmly by name. (It always impresses me when people who encounter hundreds of people every week are able to remember names of those they’ve maybe only met once or twice, with apparent ease. I’ve seen Anne-Marie do this at the Troubadour and it’s awe-inspiring. ) Anne-Marie reassured me that many of the folks in the room were friends, family and publishers of the shortlisted poets, and therefore unlikely to be familiar anyway. Nonetheless it was a strange feeling to be so at sea among what was undoubtedly a poetry circle to which I don’t have (and probably never will have) the key.

Confession time: I managed to snatch a few photos, and was standing next to Don Paterson (help!) when the winner was announced, hoping to look nonchalant and like someone who wasn’t a gatecrasher. Actually I was thrilled it was Sarah Howe, for several reasons –

I absolutely loved Loop of Jade
she seems such a nice person, and
it saved me from the embarrassment of turning to DP and giving him a big hug. I still managed to babble something to him but I think it was brief and unmemorable, so only a minor gaffe. Phew!

Meanwhile, back in the safety of my familiar milieu… Telltale Press had a snack-fuelled AGM last week at Peter’s house and now have plans for the rest of the year and beyond. I’m very grateful to be a part of such a supportive and enthusiastic group of poets. Hurrah!

And latest submissions news is that I decided rather hurriedly to throw out some poems to competitions. One of them was too hurried – after paying £5 to enter the Magma comp, like an idiot I found 3 typos and at least two other things I needed to improve. What’s the matter with me? Could I not have been a bit more careful? So that’s £5 wasted. ACK! Meanwhile, no new or acceptances or declines. So business as usual for now! Now back to work.

Blog/ 12/05/2015

Coffee House Poetry at the Troubadour

Had a great evening yesterday at the Troubadour as Coffee House Poetry, Anne-Marie Fyfe’s fortnightly poetry readings, got underway for its summer season.

It’s a crazy scene – the vibrancy, the quirkiness, the sheer number of people, Cahal Dallat’s virtuosic keyboard skills (yesterday the background medleys included opera classics and a rumbunctious dose of Mozart, all from memory). Moving amongst the crowd, Anne-Marie greets everyone and the whole place feels like a party. And who’s that sitting at the back? Oh, it’s Van Morrison and Jimmy Page, dropped by for a spot of poetry action. You can’t help but feel you’re on a film set. Love it!

Last night’s first half readers were Mark Huband, Scarlett Sabet, Will Burns & Miranda Peake, after which we had a brief musical interlude when Henry Fajemirokun played and sang a very nice Simon & Garfunkel number. Mark Huband’s background in journalism and travel writing informs his poetry – he read from his book ‘American Road’ and some extracts from a new long work. I loved the start of Scarlett Sabet’s set, a strong first poem full of promise. Towards the end she read some more performance-style poems which I find a bit harder to digest – I suppose I mean the repetition and relentless hard rhymes, which I find distract from the meaning and weaken the power of the words. Miranda Peake admitted she was very nervous, which was a shame, because it dried out her voice – I suspect I would enjoy her poems on the page, they seemed accomplished.

I didn’t take notes, although I noticed a few people around me doing so. I wonder what they write? Maybe the names, for future reference, or perhaps an idea or two that needed capturing. I do sometimes find my mind wandering in a reading, but not in a bad way – it’s usually something I hear that takes seed or gives me a sudden angle on an old issue. As I’m writing now I’m remembering a couple of things I should have written down at the time. Oh well! And the other thing I’m famously pants at is taking photos of well-lit readers in dark spaces. Which is why I only managed one, but the reader is so blanched out it could be anyone – although it is in fact Will Burns:

The second half felt like the big-hitters, with Nigerian poet Inua Ellams (check out his beautiful and stylish website) full of warmth and humour getting things off to a cracking start, Tim Richardson – a big character with an even bigger following in the room, Roisin Tierney – authoritative presence & many Spanish food references and R.A. Villanueva, a vibrant American reader who I wish I could have paid more attention to, but I was a bit tired and thinking about my train at this point.

My favourite reading of the night was by Will Burns and I couldn’t wait to snap up a copy of his pamphlet. Something about his poetry made me sit up. There was nothing exotic about it, but it was extraordinary. The problem with writing about the extraordinary, whether it’s people, experiences, places, is that the writing has a lot to live up to. (See point 7 of Don Paterson’ tips). Plus there’s not always space for the reader. Whereas writing about the ordinary, in an extraordinary way, feels to me like the real work of poetry. It doesn’t just let me in, it reminds me there’s a reason to write and how much there is still to discover both in myself and in others.

On the home page of the website, a quote from Billy Collins declares that the Troubadour has “evolved over its 60 year history from a hidden-away beatnik coffee house to a world famous center for the performance of music and poetry.” Well, it still feels pretty beatnik to me, and nothing wrong with that.

Blog/ 10/03/2015

First experience of Coffee-House Poetry at the Troubadour

I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to get my lazy bod along to the Troubadour cafe for Anne-Marie-Fyfe’s Coffee House Poetry nights. I guess the journey was putting me off, but actually it was as sweet as a trip on Southern Rail could be. Trains on time. Changing at Clapham Junction. Two stops on the overground and a 5 minute trot past the scary-looking Brompton Cemetery. I left home at 5.30pm and was back by midnight.

The Troubadour…. what can I say? I already gave a flavour of it in a previous post. The downstairs room where the readings are held is an interesting L-shape, and tables and chairs were tightly packed in. Readers were called in groups of 6 in order to be ready to leap to the stage. A military operation, but handled with good humour, and people responded by (mostly) sticking to the rules – one poem, no more than 25 lines, little or no preamble. There must have been 60 or more readers in all, and an amazing range of poems to the theme of ‘yellow’. Most of those read were by the poets themselves, but we also heard work by Louis Macneice, Philip Devine and Frances Leviston among others.

Jan Heritage and Robin Houghton reading at the Troubadour. — Jan Heritage and I reading our poems. (Sorry for the grainy pics)

I was looked after by poet friend Jan who’s a regular, although there were several other people there I knew and it was very nice to finally meet others who I knew only by reputation, such as Mona Arshi (who I’m reading with next month at Lauderdale House, oh did I mention that already?) and Robert Peake.

The event has been going for some years now but I got no feeling of it being a clique – which has to be down to Anne-Marie’s hosting skills. She appears to know everyone’s name, (including mine, even though we’d only met once), she’s there greeting people as they come in, chatting and making introductions beforehand and in the break. Her relaxed persona rubs off on the audience, with happy results. It’s a style I’d love to emulate when I’m running events, because I’m aware I can sometimes get into the “don’t panic!” mode and the rictus grin/short temper if things aren’t going quite to plan. Must try harder!

Anne-Marie Fyfe, Stephen Bone & Robin Houghton at the Troubadour — Anne-Marie Fyfe, Stephen Bone and myself, and featuring Stephen’s yellow socks – OK, I know it’s a bit blurry, but it was dark!

If you’re a regular reader of this blog you’ll know I can get a bit irritated about event timekeeping (ahem!), but in this case, given the number of readers it was easily forgivable that it ended a teensy bit later than scheduled. Sadly I had to catch a train so missed the final few readers, the results of the Big Yellow Taxi quiz (at which I sucked big time) and the announcement of the favourite poem of the night. I was told it wasn’t always quite that busy, as the regular nights feature just a handful of headline readers. I’m already looking forward to the next one in May when the season starts up again for the summer. If you’ve ever thought of going along but haven’t yet, do so if you can, it’s well worth it.

Tag: Anne-Marie Fyfe

Workshops, readings etc

Declined … again

The Booklet!