I admit Don McLean’s Vincent was one of my inspirations when it came to writing about a constellation – that and the challenge of writing a poem about stars without the word ‘star’ appearing in it.
It’s now part of an anthology of 88 poems (representing all the known/named constellations) and I’m dead chuffed to be a part of it. Big thanks to Rebecca Bilkau for pulling such a big project together, via Facebook, and to David Borrott (who I met on the Ty Newydd masterclass last year) for alerting me to the call for submissions. My copies arrived last week and it’s been fascinating to read the poems and see the very different routes people have taken with the theme. I’m not sure if it’s available to buy online yet but I have a couple of spare copies so I may do a giveaway, watch this space (so to speak).
There are some pretty cheesy versions of Vincent on YouTube but I don’t think you can beat this lovely live rendition from 1972:
Just raising my head above the parapet to report that I’m about 20k words into my book and now at the point where I have to start printing pages off and going through everything with post-its, before I lose my many threads. It’s amazing how I can be convinced I’ve already covered something, or filed something, or penciled in a name and a quote, and then suddenly nothing is as it should be. Ack! I’m trying to do this one on my own, having had some research help with the last book. Remembering all the people I’ve contacted, and where I wanted to use a quote from them, is the hardest thing, despite it all being on spreadsheets.
Anyway, poetry is entirely gone from me at the moment. Although I’ve got stuff out, half of it is to competitions which is akin to playing those fixed odds betting machines. Entering one more comp won’t do any harm! Hey, I might even win! And next thing the (metaphorical) bailiff comes knocking. And for the first time in ages I’ve nothing forthcoming in magazines.
Then, having been rejected by The London Magazine, two weeks later they send another email – we’re sorry to tell you… you mean, you haven’t changed your mind? Or were those poems so bad you had to reject them twice? I did try having a little joke with the sender of the email, but (no doubt in the spirit of not engaging with possible nutters) she declined to respond.
A couple of good things though: the Heavenly Bodies anthology which I’m proud to be a part of is out on April 30th, although I won’t make the launch as it’s the other end of the country from me. Can’t wait to see it! Plus, my pamphlet should be arriving this week. I made some amends after seeing the proof, including changing the cover title and name from all caps to sentence case, as all caps seemed A BIT SHOUTY.
Would be nice to now go out for a walk in the sunshine, but … those post-its are calling to me.
A few interesting things on the go at the moment. ‘Heavenly Bodies’ which I wrote about last week is gathering momentum, and there’s talk on Facebook of having a launch in Preston, or somewhere points North, which will mean I’ll have to miss it, alas. Anyway, at least I’ve written my ‘constellation’ poem, although I think I’ll look it over a few more times before sending it off to Rebecca Irvine.
Although I’ve been a bit dry lately in terms of producing new work, one thing I’m pushing forward with is a promotional pamphlet. I’ve given this a lot of thought. The purpose is twofold – firstly to have something to send/give to people which showcases some of my (previously published) poems, and perhaps to sell at readings, and secondly to shake off the feeling of passivity that going in for endless pamphlet competitions engenders in me.
Maybe I’m too impatient, but I lost a good poet friend last year, very suddenly. Life is short, to take action is empowering, and what have I got to lose? (Apart from the cost, but at least it’s all under my control!) It’s a very small collection, and doesn’t impact on my newer unpublished work, nor does it overlap with the pamphlet submissions I’ve got out at the moment. Plus I’m really enjoying the process of learning about publishing, print and all the other mysteries!
Meanwhile, with the help of my ‘loose committee’ I’ve been working out plans for the Brighton Stanza this year, which has grown considerably and we now need separate workshopping meetings as the monthly ‘open’ meetings have become so large. There’s a vibrant and wide-ranging poetry scene in Brighton, and although one of our aims is to encourage fine writing through close reading and critiquing, many people prefer to hone their performance skills, or read and share their work without scrutiny, or simply listen, learn and gain confidence.
There’ve also been various work-related things that have taken me away from poetry the last couple of weeks (curses!) as well as music-related things, such as turning pages at recitals, co-ordinating rehearsal dates and availability of singers for choir gigs.
But in between times I’ve been enjoying Michael Symmons Roberts’ Drysalter which just seems to ‘keep giving’ as they say.
There was an episode of ‘Girls of the Playboy Mansion’ in which a new ingenue is welcomed into the Playboy ‘family’ with the gift of a star named after her. “Ooooh, you’re a STAR!” says Kendra to the upstart, somewhat mockingly. I watched the show for moments like that.
What is it about stars? Most of us don’t really know what they are (distant solar systems? Is our own a ‘star’ when seen from a star?) But the stars are all over poetry. The moon and the stars. Stardust, starlight. Those mythical creatures and characters parading across the night sky. We throw a few stars into a poem as if they were familiar old friends. I’m guilty of it – I have to stop myself on a regular basis from calling up Orion or the Pleiades AGAIN.
Then there are the metaphorical stars of course – film stars, poetry stars. We seem to have fewer stars in popular culture these days – a plethora of celebs, the odd national treasure, the rather doughy-sounding star bakers … it’s pleasing to feel that a genuine star is still something rather special.
So here’s my current challenge – to write a poem about (or inspired by) a named constellation. In my case, it’s ‘a small and faint constellation in the southern sky’ (Wikipedia) with an ‘extrasolar planet’ – which is apparently very interesting to astronomers.
It’s all part of a poetry project called Heavenly Bodies, involving (so far) 88 poets, each of us having chosen a specific constellation as our muse. It’s being coordinated by Rebecca Irvine on Facebook, the idea being to produce an anthology of star-spangled, star-studded, star-gazing poetry. I feel the challenge is on to get properly under the skin of those pesky ploughs, archers, myths and visions. Can’t wait to see where the work takes us – to infinity and beyond?
