Tag: poetry competitions

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National Poetry Day (week of)

Prole 33 and Frogmore Papers 100

So Thursday is National Poetry Day, which I shall be celebrating with my Hastings Stanza group, doing what poets do… agonising over line-breaks, commas and what have you.

Before that though, on Wednesday, I’ll be at the Fisherman’s Club for the prize readings of a local competition I was a judge for, on the theme of ‘Eastbourne and the Environment’. A theme that was interpreted in some interesting ways! Hastings Stanza member Jackie Hutchinson is among the winners, so I’m looking forward to hearing her winning poem.

Last week I was in Lewes for the launch of The Frogmore Papers‘ 100th issue, an amazing feat, and under the editorship of Jeremy Page the whole time. We heard readings from some of the contributors and from co-founder Andre Evans on how it all began in a cafe in Folkestone. It’s a lovely story, and having heard it a few times it’s now taken on almost mythic status, up there with Aeneas crossing the Mediterranean to found the city of Rome, or Phil Knight making rubber outsoles on his mum’s waffle machine for the first Nike trainers. Anyway, having read the edition from cover to cover I can confirm it’s a fine book – and let’s face it, some of our ‘little magazines’ coming in at 90 pages or more deserve to be called books.  On that subject, I can also recommend Prole 33 which recently arrived, weighing in at 140 pages (although about half of it is short stories.)

The Lewes event was also the launch of Clare Best‘s new collection, End of Season (Fine di Stagione), published by the Frogmore Press, in which the poems are presented in both English and Italian. It was lovely to hear both Clare and Jeremy reading the poems in both languages – very evocative. I’m enjoying the book especially as it is about a beautiful place on Lake Maggiore called Cannero where Nick and I stayed for a week back in 2019 (on Clare’s recommendation).

Meanwhile, if you’re a member of the Poetry Society you may notice a piece I’ve written for Poetry News on magazines’ submissions windows, which should be hitting your doormat this week.

Nothing much to report on the new writing front, although I have just sent out another tranche of poems that have been languishing in the ‘am I ever going to go back to working on these or shall I just send them out’ pile. So that’s 22 poems out to magazines at the moment, and one pamphlet submission.

Happy National Poetry Day Week!

launch of Frogmore Papers 100
At the launch of Frogmore Papers 100 and ‘End of the Season’: Andre Evans, Neil Gower, Jeremy Page, Clare Best, Alexandra Loske and Peter Stewart
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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?

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Poetry competitions now open – to enter, or not?

NPC winners 2017

I’ve noticed there are a number of poetry competitions about to close – January seems to be a competition battleground.

I’ve talked about the issue of poetry competitions before – and there are some fascinating comments here from both experienced compers and others who absolutely hate the whole poetry competition scene.

So who (if anyone) wins the battle of the comps? Would you, can you enter them all? Or pick and choose? Or not at all?

I can go months without entering a competition – usually because I haven’t got anything to offer. But when I think about it, there are other factors involved. As always, I’m interested to know if you agree or disagree…

First question – do I have anything?

I know it’s often debated as to whether there’s such a thing as a ‘competition’ poem. Based on my entirely subjective experience of competitions, I tend to think there is. A competition poem has to stand alone. So anything conceived as part of a sequence, or needing the context of other poems, in my mind anyway, is not a contender. A poem may be extremely competent, highly skillful, charming, original, appealing to a magazine editor for whatever reason, but that doesn’t mean it will ever win a competition. Winning poems are usually neither very short nor very long, unless that’s part of the criteria (for example the Magma Editor’s Prize – sorry, that one just closed). The question to ask is, why would this poem stand out? For example, do the title and the first line earn their chops? If there’s a theme, do I have a sufficiently original angle? Basically – do I have any ‘competition’ poems in hand, and if not, is there any realistic prospect of my writing one before the deadline? If not, the process ends here. If yes, or maybe …

What’s the status of this particular competition?

I admit I look at this before I look at prize money. There are some ‘blue riband’ competitions that take precedence over others simply because of the good they can do a poet’s reputation. These ‘reputation points’ can count for a lot in the future when you’re trying to reach an audience, sell your first pamphlet or get readings. You might think you have more chance of being struck by lightning than winning the National, but even to make the longlist of the National is noteworthy. It’s the same reason that people add ‘Commended in the Bridport’ to their CVs but may leave out the fact they came first in a much smaller or local competition.

Don’t get me wrong – I’ve no issue with smaller competitions (see my comments below), and the prize money doesn’t have to be stellar to make it worthwhile entering, but if the deadline is the same time as, say, the Troubadour, I know which one I’d rather send my best competition poem.

Is it for a cause I want to support?

If it’s a competition run by a magazine I particularly want to support, a cause I feel strongly about or a project promoted by a friend, AND if there are other circumstances that convince me I have a good chance (such as who’s judging it) then I might give it a punt, regardless of what I say in the next section.

On the other hand, if I’ve seen that an organisation is great at publicity and whipping up entries, but slow to publicise the results and poor at promoting the winners, that turns me off. It’s very sad if competition organisers don’t appear to be proud of their winners, and make at least as much noise after the competition as they did before. If all you get is a cheque in the post, or maybe an invitation to the prize reading (with travel at your expense – presenting an awkward dilemma if they don’t tell you beforehand whether you’ve even won anything) then it can leave a bad taste in your mouth.

What’s the prize money and the entry fee?

This is where I start to sound a bit mercenary. I can’t justify a huge budget for competitions. ‘Only invest what you are prepared to lose’, as they say. Although yes I know ‘serious’ compers enter a lot of competitions on the grounds of the more you enter, the higher your chances of winning something – I can’t comment on that as anything to do with mathematical probability is not my forte.  But if it costs £5 to enter a competition and the first prize is £150, I’m afraid for me that’s just not attractive. (And yes, I have seen this.)

I absolutely agree with paying judges a fair fee for their considerable time, expertise and everything else involved. And competitions are often a major source of funding for small magazines and organisations. They take a lot of work to put on, I don’t doubt it. But in order to attract both a good volume of entries and enough of a decent quality, there needs to be a fair correlation between the entry fee and the prize money. It doesn’t have to be £10,000 either – there are many ways to add value to the actual prize money, and you see this more and more – special prizes for local writers, additional prizes in kind for winners, such as publication in an anthology, magazine subscriptions, books, mentoring, even champagne (more of this, please!) All of which help promote the organisers and/or are obtainable from sponsors rather than having to be paid for out of entry fees.

So – how much am I prepared to pay for what’s on offer to winners?

Who’s the judge?

I do think that doing some background on the judge, especially if you don’t know their work at all, is basic due diligence. I’m not saying it pays to write something in the style of that judge, or about a topic you know they write about. In fact, that’s probably a rubbish idea. I can also say from experience that the same judge can give you first prize in one competition and nothing in another, so it’s also pointless telling yourself ooh! she really liked my last comp entry! That means I’ve got a good chance! (Ditto if they have been your tutor/liked a poem a wrote on an Arvon/ said hello to you at the T S Eliots).

Aren’t judges always saying they like to be surprised? Or to read something they could/would never have written themselves? Nevertheless I have more than once decided not to enter a comp on the grounds that I really didn’t think anything I could write would excite that particular judge. Sometimes you just know.

What are the odds?

Oh dear. The laws of probability again. Many competitions make it known how many entries they get – especially if it’s more than last year. You may think it’s not worth entering if yours is only one of 8,000 poems in contention, when in a smaller competition you may only be up against 300 or fewer. However, some competitions feature prizes for not just 1st, 2nd and 3rd, but also Highly Commended and Commended. They may even publish a Shortlist and a Longlist, both of which (if the organisers are good at publicity) can win you ‘reputation’ points. And it can be encouraging too – hey, you got somewhere! So the chances of getting somewhere might be better in a larger competition, rather than nowhere in a smaller one.

Another factor to consider is the quality of the entries. The bigger the prize money, the cheaper the entry fee and the better and more widespread the publicity, the greater the proportion of poems that have zero chance of winning, thus pushing your lovingly-written ditty further up the pile. I’m not sure this has been scientifically proven, but I have a strong feeling about it.

Enter now! Perhaps!

Of course, luck always plays a part. That’s part of the thrill, isn’t it? And maybe (unlike me) you have plenty of poems to go round. But I still think a certain amount of selection, before handing over the good stuff, isn’t such a bad idea.

If you’re feeling like the gods are shining on you, then here are three suggestions for where to put your money this week:

The Interpreter’s House Poetry Competition, closes January 31st. Judge Zaffar Kunial, prizes: £500, £150, £100, plus publication in the magazine. Entry fee £4 or 3 for £10

Prole Laureate Competition, closes January 31st. Judge Kate Garrett, prizes £200 and 2 x £50, plus publication in the magazine and on the website. Entry fee £3 for the first entry, £2 after that.

The Plough Poetry Prize, closes January 31st. Judge Michael Symmons Roberts, prizes £1000, £500, £250 in each of 2 categories (open – up to 40 lines, short poem – up to 10 lines). Entry fee £5

There are more! See the Poetry Library’s listing.

Addendum – I’ve just seen this excellent post from Angela T Carr, on the very same topic, written a few days ago – it must be something in the air! Angela regularly posts competition calls on her blog, and her insights are well worth having.

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Poetry magazine windows & comp deadlines coming up

ackergill-drawing room window

*UPDATED 8-6-17* to include the Prole Pamphlet Competition, deadline 30th June.

Windows

It’s been a while since I checked submissions windows. I realise a few have just closed (e.g. The North – you have to be sharp-eyed to get in there!), but here are some that are currently open…

Agenda – the website says it’s currently open, and you have submit via email, and there are very specific house style rules. They say they aim for a 12-week turnaround, and after that time it’s OK to submit elsewhere.

The Interpreter’s House – open until the end of June. Submit by email. They ‘prefer not to receive simultaneous submissions’ and previous contributors are asked to wait out three issues before submitting again. I rather like this and wish some other magazines would stipulate it, as it would prevent certain people from flooding every issue of some mags with their stuff. Just saying.

Under the Radar – now open until June 30th – via Submittable.

Tears in the Fence – currently open for submissions by email or post.

Long Poem Magazine – open until June 30th for poems that are at least 75 lines long ‘but not book length’. Submit by email.

For a list of some UK magazines which are open to submissions all year, see my post from last year.

A few competition deadlines coming up

All details are provided in good faith, but I can’t guarantee I’ve got them all correct – please go to the competition page to check and to read the rules, cut off dates etc.

Mslexia Women’s Poetry Competition – Judge Sinead Morrissey. Prizes £2,000, £400, £200. Entry fee £7 per poem. Deadline 19th June. Is it just me or does the ‘women only’ rule feel a little anachronistic in this age of greater understanding of gender fluidity, cis vs trans women and so forth? Just saying. Mslexia are also holding their annual Pamphlet competition which has the same deadline.

The McLellan Poetry Prize –  Judge Maura Dooley. Prize awarded by the Arran Theatre and Arts Trust as part of the annual McLellan Arts Festival – winners are invited up to the Isle of Arran for the prize giving in September. Prizes: £1000, £300, £100, plus 6 commendations of £25. Entry fee: £5 for the first poem, £4 thereafter. Deadline 21st June.

Prole Pamphlet Competition – Judge Fiona Pitt-Kiethley. This is Prole Magazine’s first pamphlet competition, for collections up to 35 pages. The winner will receive £50 and 15 copies of the pamphlet. Entry fee £12. Deadline 30th June.

Live Canon International Poetry Competition – Judge Clare Pollard. One prize of £1,000, plus £100 for a poet ‘living, studying or working in the London Borough of Greenwich’. Shame it can’t be extended to poets born and bred in the (ahem!) Royal Borough of Greenwich, because that would make me eligible. Oh well. Entry fee £6. Deadline 1st July.

Ambit Summer Poetry Competition – Judge George Szirtes. Prizes £500, £250, £100. Entry fee is £6 per poem. Deadline 15th July.

Winchester Poetry Prize – Judge Sarah Howe. Prizes £1,000, £500, £250. Entry fee is £5 for first poem, £4 for subsequent poems. Deadline 31st July.

 

And with a little more time to prepare…

The Manchester Poetry Prize – judges Adam O’Riordan, Mona Arshi & Pascale Petit. £10,000 prize for the best portfolio of three to five poems (maximum combined length: 120 lines) Entry fee £17.50. Deadline 29th September.

Troubadour International Poetry Prize – Judges Michael Symmons-Roberts and Imtiaz Darker. Prizes £2,000, £1,000, £500, plus a swathe of other prizes (magazine subscriptions, champagne etc). A reduced first prize this year, but still a prestigious one to win. Entry fee £6 for the first, then £4 for each subsequent poem. Deadline 16th October.

 

Good sources of info re poetry competitions and reading windows are:

Angela T Carr’s A Dreaming Skin – poetry competitions and opportunities

The South Bank Poetry Library – competitions listings, plus details of UK poetry magazines & publishers.

Cathy’s Comps & Calls – monthly blog post detailing a huge ton of writing comps (not just poetry), many free to enter.

As ever, good luck!

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Reasons to enter (or not) poetry competitions

Do you send poems off to competitions? If not, why not? OK we all know it’s ‘a lottery’. Nevertheless most of us would admit it’s exciting to actually win something. Or is it?

I often debate this with poet friends and in particular the reasons not to enter comps. Let me know if you agree or disagree in the comments!

Reasons to submit to competitions

1) A competition win gives you instant visibility and credibility as a poet
2) Winning a competition is a terrific confidence-boost
3) There’s good money to be won
4) Pamphlet (or book) competitions are the only way to get published
5) It’s supporting a poetry publication or organisation that I like

Reasons NOT to submit to competitions

1) It’s expensive / I can’t afford it

Actually these are two separate arguments.

For some, it’s the principle of paying to enter a competition that grates. The fact that it takes hours and hours of work to even put a competition together, let alone promote/ judge and deal with all the related admin, is by-the-by.  In competition publicity the emphasis is usually on the material benefits of winning, or the prestige to be gained – how much you win, whether it includes publication, who has won it before and what they say about it, etc.

Perhaps if competition organisers were to appeal more to the altruistic side of people’s nature – in how, by entering, they will be supporting the work of the publication or organisation concerned – their might be less grumbling. Rather as charities do – where your money goes, how it’s spent etc.

And nobody should be shy about the fact that the poetry judges get paid – they are poets who are earning a living from their work, and we’re hardly talking Premiership wages. Are they supposed to read 3,000 poems for the love of it? (If indeed they read them of course – see note below on ‘sifters’). And who among us wouldn’t want the same treatment if we were in their position?

Not being able to afford the entry fees is another thing. Any solution to this I suppose requires people to self-identify as being in a very low income bracket, which I imagine not everyone wants to. Organisations like Arvon offer bursaries and there may be the opportunity of an ACE grant for professional development but I don’t know if that extends to competition entry fees.

I don’t know if it’s the case, but I like to think that the competition organisers might offer a few individuals free entry, if they are known to them. Maybe even state this in the ‘where your entry fee is spent’ section on a competition entry form – better still, ask people if they are willing to sponsor an entry by a poet who otherwise wouldn’t be able to enter, by paying some or all of their entry fee. I think there would be takers for that, much the same as buying someone a magazine subscription as a gift. I certainly know there are organisers of poetry readings who sometimes help people attend who otherwise wouldn’t be able to afford the entry fee or travel.

2) My poems aren’t good enough

Ooh, are you sure? Maybe there’s more to it than this, but I’m no psychologist, so let’s take it on face value.

You only have to look at previous winning poems to know that there’s no magic formula or identifiable standard which makes a poem a competition winner. Second-guessing if something is ‘good enough’ is an impossible task.

There’s lots of advice on the web about what makes a ‘competition’ poem. Once you start writing them and getting the odd comp success, I think you get a feel for which of your poems are competition poems. But it’s tricky to identify any objective competition-winning DNA.

Standard advice is to research the judges. But that means finding out about their taste, not necessarily what they write themselves. Judges can be quick to spot ‘lookalike’ work, and it doesn’t always pay off. Is reading ‘something I could have written myself’ really going to surprise and delight a judge, send them into raptures? Personally, I doubt it.

So yes, read the judge’s own work, but also check out the results of other competitions they have judged. Read any interviews with them. Ask people who’ve been on their workshops. Or conversely, you might seek out competitions to enter where the judge is someone you have some experience of, as a tutor for example.

Remember too that many competitions employ first-round judges, or sifters. I encountered one competition where the named judge was sent only 30 or so poems, out of all the entries. You may have to read the small print (or ask around) to find this out.

3) What if I don’t win?

Although it feels a bit scary to send off a competition entry, in the early stage of one’s writing career there’s actually very little to lose, in terms of the fragile poet ego. Unlike submitting to magazines, you generally don’t get rejections. If your poem comes nowhere, you’ve no idea how quickly it was sifted out, and you can just forget (or pretend you’ve forgotten) you even entered. Or you can tell yourself your poem was probably in the top 10% of entries, if it makes you feel better.

If you’re an established poet, with a national profile and several collections to your name, entering a comp calls for a thick skin. Imagine appearing on a longlist, but you don’t make the short list. Then you find a CW student with two published poems gets third place. Or wins. WTF!I’m sure competition organisers publish long and short lists as a favour to poets – so they can see how far they got, and feel excited to try again, that sort of thing. Ironically, the more successful the poet, the more this actually becomes a disincentive to enter. Perhaps competition organisers could add a confidentiality checkbox to the entry form which says something like “I do not wish my name to appear on published Long or Short Lists.” It’s never going to happen of course, because having a high profile poet on a long list adds kudos to the comp.

In fact you may even be thinking it’s a bit of a non-reason. If you don’t want to be seen to lose, don’t go in for the comp! I suppose that’s one answer!

4) What if I win?

If this is seriously a reason not to enter a comp (because you’re worried about winning) then I’m not going to persuade you otherwise!

There are potential disadvantages to winning a high profile competition, such as dealing with unwanted attention – people criticising your work or even launching personal attacks in a way that doesn’t happen until you win big or find yourself in the national papers. But I doubt anyone ever got trolled for winning the Kent & Sussex.

So there you are. There’s really no such thing as the perfect poem that everyone agrees is marvellous. Comp organisers and poet-judges need the money. The monstrous poet ego needs the affirmation. Social media needs a constant fuelling of ‘who won what and look at me I won and yay for all the winners’ etc. Let’s go compete, and may the best (ahem!) woman win.

Good places to get info on forthcoming competitions:

The Poetry Library

The Poetry Kit

Angela T Carr’s blog

Comps and Calls 

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Quick 2016 submissions stats overview

poetry rejections

I have a much longer ‘end of year’ post lined up but for now I thought I’d post a quick subs update for this year.

40 poems submitted to 11 magazines: 33 declined, 7 accepted (17.5%) by 5 magazines.

7 poems entered for competitions: 1 x 2nd place, 6 x ducks.

2 x poems included in anthologies (invitation/non competitive, both new poems).

2 x poems included in anthologies (competitive, both previously published poems).

3 x pamphlet submissions:  1 shortlisted (last 20), 3 declined.

Currently out: 6 to competitions, 7 to magazines (of which 7 are resubs and 5 new).

As I suspected, I’ve sent out significantly fewer poems in 2016 than in previous years. But checking back on 2015 I also see that several of the ‘declined’ or unplaced poems have subsequently been published elsewhere (6 of the 23 poems submitted to competitions and 9 of those declined by magazines).

There are many reasons for the low send rate, not just laziness (although that comes into it): illness, confidence ebbing as certain poems I was sure about have been continually rejected, and not writing enough decent new material.  I’m planning to do better in 2017 though – I’ve already lined up for myself a ‘start a poem a day’ in January and am going to permit myself writing time rather than snatch it guiltily when there’s nothing else I ‘ought’ to be doing.

I’m always interested in other people’s stats – I’m aware some people send out MUCH more than me, and others who scarcely send out at all. Do use the comments box to share your own experience if you’d like to.

Oh and MERRY CHRISTMAS of course – thank you for taking the time to read this blog and I wish you joy, health & peace.

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Submissions windows open & poetry competition deadlines

view from the ship

Windows

Just checking which magazines have re-opened their windows (must’ve been hot in there) and have found the following:

The Stinging Fly is open until Aug 31st (postal submissions) or Sept 4 (via Submittable).

Agenda appears to have been open since June 1st – the website says it’s still open, so jump in quickly!

Ambit has been open for poetry submissions from August 1st, window closes October 1st.

Under the Radar will be re-opening Sept 14th and closing October 30th. (This is a change to what I reported previously).

For a list of some UK magazines which are open to submissions all year, see my April post.

Competition deadlines coming up

Attention all compers: there are some opportunities to look at here – click on the relevant link to go to the page with more info. All details are provided in good faith, but I can’t guarantee I’ve got them all correct – please go to the competition page to check and to read the rules, cut off dates etc.

Cornwall Contemporary Poetry Festival  (a new one on me) – judge Alison Brackenbury, first prize is £600. Entry fee £5 for the first poem, £3 thereafter. Deadline 3rd September.

Primers Vol 2 – publication & mentoring is the prize on offer to 3 poets. Final long and shortlists are decided by Jane Commane & Jacob Sam La Rose after initial sifting. £15 entry for 6 poems. I was ‘long listed’ for this last year, so may have another stab at it. Deadline 4th September.

The Poetry Society’s Stanza Competition – open to Poetry Society members who are also members of a PS Stanza. Judged by Ros Barber, the theme is ‘Silence’. There’s no dough on offer here but plenty of kudos. I was thrilled to bag it in 2014. Yes, comps CAN be won! Deadline 12th September.

Live Canon Poetry Competition – judge Lorraine Mariner, first prize £1,000. Entry fee £6 for a single poem, £15 for three. Deadline 12th September.

The Manchester Poetry Prize – judges Sarah Howe, Helen Mort & Adam O’Riordan. £10,000 prize for the best portfolio of three to five poems (maximum combined length: 120 lines) Entry fee £17.50. This is one of the big prizes and (dare I say it) a tad prestigious. Go for it. Deadline 23rd September.

If you enter any of these comps and win – remember we all want to know about it here! 

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

TS Eliot Prize shortlisted poets 2016

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.

Don Paterson at the TS Eliot Prize readings

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 –

  1. I absolutely loved Loop of Jade
  2. she seems such a nice person, and
  3. 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!

sarah howe wins TS Eliot prize 2016

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/

Three small press poetry competition deadlines coming up

Poetry comps

Ah! Poetry competitions. Love ’em, hate ’em? It helps when you win something occasionally, admit it. Sadly, the stats are against us, but would we have it any other way? Who wants to be a winner if everyone else is too?

And on the subject of probability, I just read that the British state lottery, or Lotto, increased the number of balls from 49 to 59 three months ago. More balls! More chances to win!? Er, no. In fact it lengthened the odds of winning the jackpot from 14 million to one to 45 million to one. Which means anyone entering is 3,750 times more likely to be struck by lightning than to win the big one. What a swizz! Not that I’m bothered, because I don’t play. No sirree! I put my hard earned spare change into POETRY COMPETITIONS. Then again, of course I’m very grateful that others do play the Lotto, because they’re helping to fund the arts, heritage, sport and numerous other projects that our taxes no longer support.

The fact is that many small publishers run comps in order to stay alive, and while there are punters willing to enter them, why not? Personally, all I ask from competition organisers is they spend an equal amount of time publicising the winners as they do persuading people to enter. It seems only fair, yet it’s not always what happens. For my own part, I do enter comps, but only when I think I’ve got a competition-style poem that’s ready. The fees do add up, and after a while I feel a bit guilty about it. Then again I’ve had a bit of luck with comps in the past, for which I’m very grateful. Hence the love-hate-can’t decide attitude.

Anyway, I wanted to give a shout out to to three esteemed small poetry magazines and their current competitions, just in case you weren’t aware of them. It’s tough going when there are other, bigger or more established comps happening at the same time.

If you have a competition-winning poem or three in your knapsack, please consider sliding them their way.

The Interpreter’s House 2015 Poetry Competition
Closing: January 30th 2016
Judge: Jonathan Edwards
Prize money: £500 / £150 / £100
plus Seven Highly Commended
Entry Fee: £4 for single poems, £10 for three

Prole Laureate (who wouldn’t want a title like that?)
Closing:  January 31st 2016
Judge: Kate O’Shea
Prize money: £200, 2 x runner up prizes of £50
Entry fee: £3 for first entry, £2 for any subsequent entries

Brittle Star poetry competition
Closing:  1st March 2016
Judges: George Szirtes & Jacqueline Gabbitas
Prize money: £250, £50, £25
Entry fee: 1st poem £4.50 then £3.50 for any subsequent entries

Someone’s got to win, and it could be you – or better still, me – tee hee. Good luck!

Angst/

The poetry competition game

Compers NewsPerhaps that could be a poem title? Should I send it to the Poetry London comp, or is more of a Poetry on the Lake  sort of title? Could I get some kind of double meaning out of ‘game’ in order to make it a nature poem and would it appeal to Simon Armitage when judging the Rialto comp?

‘Games’ were fun things we did as kids, weren’t they? if you discount ‘games’ – that Wednesday afternoon ritual at secondary school that usually involved mud, cold and not being picked for the team. But now we have gaming. Gamesmanship. Game over. Not fun any more. Or is it?

If we decide to enter poetry competitions we could approach it as a game (ie a bit of fun). We give a go, and if we win it’s great – sometimes a cash prize, sometimes a prize giving event or publication. Or in the case of a big competition, career-enhancing. We don’t mind paying to enter because it’s a lot of work for judges and organisers. And besides, the entry fees are a way of giving something back to poetry – the promoters of competitions are usually publishers after all, or champions of poetry in some way.

Is there an alternative? In the wider world of ‘comping’, there are people who make a good living from competitions and win more iPads, Audis and holidays than they can cope with. Apparently the secret is to approach it systematically. Less beach cricket, more The Hunger Games. A serious comper will tell you it’s a waste of time NOT to approach it this way.

So is that also true of poetry competitions? I’ve read various posts about this – what makes for a competition-winning poem, what ‘due diligence’ should be done before entering a competition, whether you’ve got more chance in a smaller competition than a big one (not as obvious as it sounds!) Judges are often happy to give their side of it, either being helpful before the fact (Emma Lee has written a good article outlining exactly what she looks for when judging a competition) or in judge’s reports (which often tell is like it is – essential reading!) Personally, I find the shortlists and longlists (for those competitions that make them public) tell you a lot. I’m often amazed at some ‘big name’ poets entering competitions. And the sheer number of entries from some poets – either money’s no object or their strategy is spend big to win big…

I also read recently (can’t remember on whose blog – help me out, someone) that competition-winning poems don’t necessarily have a place in a pamphlet (and vice versa). I quite enjoy sometimes writing to a theme, but is writing ‘competition poems’ anathema to a poet working on a pamphlet or a collection? And yet that’s a bit of a broad judgement too –  look at Ian Duhig’s marvellous The Lammas Hireling, winning the National and then the title poem of a fine collection.

I came across this interesting piece by Jendi Reiter which, although it’s primarily to do with submitting to US journals and competitions, I still found useful. I rather like her reminder that if you enter competitions, “you’re going to get a lot more rejection than validation, and internalizing others’ opinions of your worth will lead to writers’ block or fearful, unoriginal writing.” I think this is one reason I’m so ambivalent about it. I’m not sure I can keep up a healthy attitude to writing poetry at the same time as entering comps. And yet part of me enjoys the game, and every now and then I can’t resist it.