Tag: peter raynard

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At last, some (a)live poetry events

ancient juniper tree

Having missed three Hastings Stanza meetings due to a choir commitment, next month I’m so looking forward to workshopping with everyone again around a table and the odd cup of tea or glass of wine. We restarted face to face meetings last autumn, and after all the months of having to ‘meet’ online it was such a joy. Actual, live events are just that, aren’t they? (A)LIVE. The same goes for live poetry readings – there are two lovely launch events coming up: first John McCullough is launching his new book Panic Response (Penned in the Margins) in Brighton next week, guaranteed to be a love-in for his many friends and fans, then in June poet friend Sarah Barnsley has very kindly asked me to be one her support acts at an informal launch of her brilliant collection, The Thoughts (Smith Doorstop).

In between, there’s a Needlewriters evening coming up on April 14th. I’ll have the privilege of ’emcee-ing’ this one, and hearing the excellent Peter Raynard whose new book Manland is forthcoming from Nine Arches in July.

Online blues

Like most people I put up with Zoom readings and events when it was the only thing allowed, and I hadn’t realised how much I loathed it until I started to contemplate the horror of online poetry events becoming a permanent thing. The ‘Zoom factor’ is having a detrimental effect on my decision about whether to return to the University of York to finish my MA later this year: as long as there is any chance whatsoever that seminars will be moved online, I can’t honestly contemplate returning.

Ironic really: twenty-five years ago, as an internet newbie I was basking in the excitement of what the Web had to offer, online for hours every night (this was in the US, where it was free!) and making friends across the globe (yes, actual people – some of whom I got to know in real life). I then spent the best part of twenty years working in online marketing and speaking, teaching, advocating and writing books about the power (and brilliance) of the internet for business, for communities and for communication generally.

And now? After nearly three months ‘resting’ from Twitter, I’m wondering just how much I missed it, if at all. In two days’ time it will be my 15th anniversary of joining. But the reasons I used to love it have gone, and I watch it being slowly poisoned by human behaviour and commercial interests. However, having ditched Facebook several years ago (with no regrets), I’m not about to jump ship from Twitter. But I will be carrying out some changes so I can enjoy it more.

Latest news about the collection

Version three of the manuscript is out the door and with the second of the wise poets who are helping me with ordering, culling, titling and general confidence. I finally have a working title that I think I like and will work. Huzzah! (No, that’s not it!) Meanwhile one of my newer poems has been taken by The Alchemy Spoon, and I have a dozen or so others out to other mags. I think I’m back in the submissions saddle.

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Poems, schmoems. Couple acceptances, a bit of rejection but hey.

Well hello! I am feeling epic. Not because I’ve suddenly won some dough or got a call from Faber. No!

Health update (feel free to skip!)

You may recall my moaning on about my bad back or whatever. It seems to be something else entirely that’s been sapping me of energy and slowly seizing up my joints to the point of what felt like Permanent Old Ladydom, the mystery has I think been solved. It looks like I have a condition with the important-sounding name of Polymyalgia Rheumatica, which nobody is supposed to get before they hit at least 70 apparently. So for various reasons I don’t fit the profile, except that my brother has also had it, and if he hadn’t said ‘your symptoms sound just like mine’, I would never have been diagnosed. So THANK YOU that bro of mine. The key facts for me to take in are 1) no-one knows what causes it (funny how that’s often the case when it’s a condition mostly affecting women) 2) there is no cure  and 3) one can only wait for it to go into remission, which takes at least 2 years.

But the good news is that there’s a drug that suppresses the symptoms, and for once in my life I have given in Big Time to Big Pharma. Within hours of taking the magic pills I felt about 20 years younger. I am honestly not exaggerating. I am Lazarus. I can function again, and it feels like I’ve got a second chance at life – more so even than after having cancer. So here I am taking a long-term, systemic drug after always saying I never would. I accept there may be side effects but I will manage them. I’m sleeping right through the night. I’m starting to write again. It’s even kicked me and Nick into a new resolve to eat low-carb and take better care of ourselves. So all good.

Quick submissions summary

Poems currently out, to magazines: 11, competitions: just the Bridport (ha) and two pamphlets. One of the pamphlets was ‘long listed’ by Live Canon.

Three more poems rejected by Shearsman, two pamphlets sunk without trace in competitions.

Three poems accepted by Morphrog, one ‘highly commended’ in the Ver Poets comp.

Recent readings

No full readings lately but I did go to the launch of Magma 74 last week and read my ‘hospitality management’ poem. It was a really good night – great to hear many of the poems read, and a chance to catch up with several poet friends including Jayne Stanton, Alison Brackenbury and Hilaire (who read very calmly from London Undercurrents at only five minutes’ notice!), say hello to others who I know either slightly or met for the first time, such as Maura Dooley, Carole Bromley and Stuart Charlesworth, as well as editors Pauline Sewards and Benedict Newbery (a fellow Live Canon longlistee). The venue in Exmouth Market was fun – with a very high but tiny stage. Here are a few pics, not sure who took the medley of pics that appeared on Twitter:

Readers at the launch of Magma 74

 

Here are Benedict and Pauline doing the intros (a bit fuzzy, sorry):

Launch of Magma 74

Two days later I took a wee trip to St Albans, just north of London outside the M25, and it was actually a very easy journey by train  as there was no need to change in London. I was a bit ashamed I’d never been there before, as I like visiting cathedrals and cathedral cities where there’s often a lovely historic vibe.

I was there for the Ver Poets competition readings, so I got to read my HC poem ‘Next best thing’ and hear all the winning poems, some of which were read by the poets themselves. It was a lovely surprise to see Peter Raynard there, as I hadn’t realised St Albans is actually his manor.

Adjudicator Kathryn Maris gave a really thoughtful and kind introduction. At the end, a cheque was presented to a lady from the OLLIE Foundation, a charity that provides funding for suicide prevention skills training for any individual or community that wants it. I wasn’t aware that proceeds from the competition were given to charity in this way, and was impressed. Personally, I think if this was made more explicit in the promo material it may encourage even more entries.

I don’t have any pics of the event but I’m looking forward to reading The Book of Jobs, Kathryn Maris’s first full collection, a copy of which I picked up while I was there.

Oh and here are a couple of photos I took of the Abbey:

St Albans Abbey

st-albans-abbey

 

 

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Poems coming out, new anthology, currently reading etc

Intro/bit of a rant etc (skip this if you’d rather go straight to The Poetry stuff)

Where has the month gone? (Rhetorical question.) Why am I being besieged by companies/organisations telling me I must re-subscribe to their emails? (Non-rhetorical question, although I think I know the answer – *some people* are spreading panic about new legislation and the country is alive with the sound of knees jerking.) A small rant: there used to be an acronym in Ye Olde Internet Dayes: RTFM. I’m too polite to say what that stands for but you can always Google it. My point is, if you read the ICO website and the text of the new GDPR then you will know IF you need to ask for re-confirmation of consent. Or NOT. Meanwhile I’m almost looking forward to not getting all those emails I used to enjoy getting.

In the last few weeks I’ve been suffering with back and arm problems which meant I had to limit my time on the computer. It’s all to do with posture, and related to the RSI I’ve had for nearly two decades. Nothing life-threatening, just annoying, and coinciding with the painstaking job of typesetting and formatting TRUTHS, the new Telltale Press Anthology (see below) not to mention endless need for posters and programmes for various concerts, workshops, recitals and assorted music-related ephemera. And five weeks of having work done on our garden. But HEY I am back on the comp (taking lots of breaks), the garden is finished, we have a new granddaughter (who I think is going to be a fine poetry critic), everyone is well and life is good!

bad poem, good poem

Needlewriters

I had a blast reading at Needlewriters earlier in the month, and we’re currently planning our June 14th event which will be a South Downs Poetry Festival Special. That means that as well as our regular evening of readings, there’ll be an open mic to kick off the evening, and in the afternoon five of us will be offering poetry ‘surgeries’ (not as queasy as it sounds) to which we hope lots of lovely poets and aspiring poets will flock. More on that another time.

Launch of TRUTHS: a Telltale Press Anthology

Yes, it’s finally here – or it will be – (long story) – next Wednesday 25th April, 7.30pm, upstairs at the John Harvey Tavern in Lewes… a dozen or so of the contributors will be reading their poems on the theme of truth/truths, and much over-excitement will be had by all, especially those of us mad enough to have a) suggested it and b) put it together. Once more the excellent Hannah Clare has created a cracking cover. It’s a stonker of a collection, but of course I would say that. You’ll just have to buy a copy to find out! The technicalities of producing TRUTHS has revealed to me another truth: I have so much to learn about print publishing. There were issues. But I am confident it will be good. Come and see! Free entry. Here’s the Facebook event page.

Coupla poems coming out here and there, plus pamphlet reviews

A few months ago I was wondering why I had nothing ‘forthcoming’ until it occurred to me I just wasn’t sending poems out. Duh. For some reason I’ve had a spate of sending to competitions rather than magazines, and being met with the sound of silence. But I’m slowly getting back on track. There’s one poem coming out in the next Interpreter’s House, which will be Martin Malone‘s last as editor, so I’m hoping there’ll be a launch somewhere that I can get to. Rumour has it that Martin is currently residing in a lighthouse on Shetland, clearly on a mission to move as far north as possible. So we’ll see.

Then a welcome surprise yesterday – a letter from Ann Sansom to say they’d like two of the poems I sent them for The North. I’ve only ever had one poem in The North and it’s been years since I’ve sent anything there as I’d convinced myself my stuff wasn’t for them. So I guess it’s always worth trying again.

Meanwhile I’d like to thank both Emma Lee writing on her blog, and Pam Thompson in London Grip for their thoughtful reviews of All the Relevant Gods, and Abegail Morley for this super mention at The Poetry Shed.

Currently / recently reading

A random selection… the March edition of Poetry and the Spring edition of The Poetry Review, in which I particularly enjoyed poems by Hannah Lowe, Ruth McIlroy and Rebecca Goss. Still to read the essays and reviews. Mary Ruefle’s The Most of It, a prose collection, although the stories (stories? somewhere between short stories and flash fiction) feel more like poems. I’m getting a lot of inspiration from this book.  Also the Spring edition of Rattle, in which I thought I’d read two poems by Sharon Olds, which I loved, but they’re not there. So where did I see these two poems? I thought it was in a recently-arrived mag. But can’t track them down. Do you know?

Stephen Bone‘s Plainsong (Indigo Dreams) is still on the ‘current’ pile – meaning I can’t resist dipping back into it (double-dipping?) before putting it on the shelf, and after a mention by Abigail Morley recently of Robin Robertson I’ve also got out my copy of Hill of Doors for a re-read and it’s paying off.

Peter Raynard is currently on tour promoting his collection Precarious, and it’s one of those books I hesitate to use the word ‘enjoyed’ about as I rather felt I’d been pulled along by my hair to arrive slightly scathed at the end. It’s breathless stuff – the language comes at you with force, a fire hydrant of feelings. There’s a great deal of humour, especially in the poems towards the end, but the overall effect on me was unsettling – ‘exposing us all to unending rounds of worry’ (‘They always come out fighting’).

Look what Ann Perrin pressed into my hand the other day – a copy of her lovely illustrated booklet The hole in the wall, produced by none other than the Dry Stone Walling Association, completely charming and one I will look forward to reading to the granddaughters when they’re a little older.

ann perrin - the hole in the wall

I also recently enjoyed Finishing Lines (Rack Press) by Ian Harrow, a very short pamphlet about illness, with a happy ending; ‘Come, Spring, make the difference.’ (‘Entreaty’). Yes indeed. I’m about to step outside and see for myself.

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CIB: the distraction economy, empty living rooms & a toe-dip into poetry and polemic

analog sea review

I’ve shortened ‘Currently Influenced By…’ to CIB in the titles of these posts, because there are ‘rules’ about optimum length of blog posts titles and only a small percentage of people will read past the first couple of words, etc etc. It’s one of the symptoms of the Age of Attention, and what Aldous Huxley called our ‘almost infinite appetite for distractions.’

Pay attention now

Being distracted by technology used to be something we’d joke about – how poems never quite got written because we spent too long watching cute kitten videos. I still sometimes have to actually say under my breath the things I pick up my phone to do – check weather, check train times to London – otherwise I get sucked into reading and responding to emails, or a ‘quick’ look at the news, or a review of the photos I took yesterday to share with Nick – ‘oh look at this one!’

But reading James Williams‘s piece in the RSA Journal was a sharp reminder of where we’re going with technology, and it’s worse than you think. Williams is design ethicist and a former Google strategist, as well as co-founder of Time Well Spent, a campaigning organisation aiming to ‘realign technology with humanity’s best interests’:

In the sort term, the externalities of the digital attention economical distract us from doing the things we want to do. In the longer term, they can distract us from living the lives we want to live, […] a primary effect of digital technologies is to undermine the operation and even the development of the human will.

Williams talks persuasively about this – how the ‘petty media environment defined by impulsiveness and zero-sum competition for our attention’ has created fertile ground for the success of Donald Trump, for example, and how technology has ‘crowded out opportunities for reflection and replaced leisure with entertainment.’

(As I read this I thought of a recent ‘Homes for Sale’ supplement in the local paper, and its photos of interiors designed to ease the sale. When I saw a photo of what appeared to be a vast living room containing nothing but a black TV on the wall and a sofa, I felt sad – even though there may be many interpretations of such a scenario – perhaps the person or people living here spend all their time at work or going for long walks or political protest marches or caring for their old mum. Maybe they never lived there. Or maybe they’re in the process of moving out. But the picture still made me feel sad.)

Steer for the deep waters only

A recent poetry mail shot contained a flyer for a new publication called The Analog Sea Review (an offline journal) – you may have seen it. Their manifesto:

Analog Sea is a small community of writers and artists wishing to maintain contemplative life in the digital age. […] We aim to spark conversations between those who find artistic expression, philosophical enquiry, and reverence for nature critical counterweights to the racket and fragmentation of modern life.

They don’t have a website nor an email address.

Technology. Attention. Distraction. What’s it doing to us?

These are big issues for me, having spent many years absorbed in and fascinated by the internet and online behaviour. Online enriched my life, especially in the early days (late twentieth/early twenty-first century) and I believed the good would outbalance the bad, but it’s not looking that way now.

If you’re a regular reader of this blog you’ll know that I gave up using Facebook in January 2017, initially for a month, as I was starting to feel an overwhelming sense of anxiety every time I opened it up. I haven’t gone back, and don’t regret the decision. Today on Cheryl Capaldo Traynor’s blog I read about her own trials with Facebook, when people who she believes to be her friends spread inflammatory material. She documents her difficulty in deciding how to deal with this. But leaving Facebook, with everything she enjoys about it, isn’t an option –  ‘I’ve done enough cutting off my nose to spite my face in my lifetime.’

I’ve recently written a piece for Poetry News about social media and the ‘health’ of poetry, canvassing the opinions of a range of poets, which was in itself fascinating. It hasn’t been signed off yet, so I don’t know if or when it will appear, but I can tell you it was hard to cover everything I wanted to in 800 words, so I sense there will be more about it, not least of all on this blog.

I don’t really ‘do’ political poetry. Or do I?

I suppose it’s all got me thinking more about how the politics of technology and online behaviour intersect, and  I can feel it oozing out in the form of poetry. Or at the point of oozing. I’ve been reading Peter Raynard’s new collection Precarious, and have been a bit overcome by its hugeness, it’s a tsunami of a collection where image piles upon image upon image as if all the injustices experienced over many years have been compressed and expressed with an intensity that’s relentless. (I realise that’s not a complete review, and not all the poems in the book fit that description, but more on this in another post.)

With this in mind I’ve recently found my way to some interesting US poetry publishers championing social and political causes, via Twitter. For example, the Rise Up Review and Glass Poetry Press… more on THIS in another post as well.

Which reminds me. My list of poetry magazine submissions windows is due an update, and I may start to add some US journals to the list. I feel my attention being split. Must focus.