Tag: the interpreter’s house

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Catchup for a rainy day – news, upcoming etc

With a real sense of summer coming to an end, I just wanted to mention a few things before August is up, and that feeling of moving on to the start of a new year. (Still haunted by school terms, decades on…)

Excellent Events

Back in July, I didn’t manage to make it to The Interpreter’s House launch reading in London, although that was fortuitous because it turned out the Southern Rail had a lovely treat planned for that night which left people coming back from London either stranded at Haywards Heath and facing a large taxi bill to get home, or a 3-4 hour journey via who-knows-where. BUT I hear it was a fine and well-attended send-off for outgoing editor Martin Malone. By all accounts it was a tad hot and sweaty in the July heat. But we’re not complaining about the weather, are we? New editor Georgi Gill has already taken charge of the next edition. Which reminds me, it’s just about time for me to update the UK poetry magazines submissions windows list…

Also in early July I had the privilege of being invited to the launch of No Bird on My Bough, an anthology of work by The Writers’ Place Poets in Brighton. This was a group which had been selected by New Writing South for a year of mentoring from Dean Atta, culminating in the anthology and reading. It was a really enjoyable evening of poetry with strong readings. Great to hear Ann Perrin, who’s a stalwart of the Brighton poetry scene, Claire Booker, whose work I’ve spotted in magazines and Sophie Brown, whose ‘The party as a metaphor for death, yeah’ I found very moving. And Judith Shaw, a member of our Hastings Stanza, who’s doing amazing things these days with her poetry which is wonderful to see. She’s also a visual artist; one of her paintings is on the cover of the anthology. Applications are open for the next round of Writers’ Place Poets.

Write Stuff

Since June I’ve been thinking a lot about my first collection. Actually, just saying ‘my first collection’ like that is a step in the right direction. I’ve a lot of related things in the pipeline, including two applications for funding, neither of which I’m particularly optimistic about, but one can but try. I’m writing new material – not a shedload, but some. It’s new and it’s (I think) different. Thanks to a manic sending-out spate last month I have a number of submissions out there looking for homes. Last week I had a very kind  ‘no thank you’ note from Prole – they are so good at turning submissions around promptly. I wonder if the longer one waits the harder the blow is when getting the ‘no’? On the other hand, it was lovely to receive a contributor copy of The North the other week. I’ve yet to sit down to read it properly but already I see many unfamiliar names alongside familiar ones. I’ll Google them as I go along, in the absence of poet biogs – something I value a lot in a poetry magazine. But maybe that’s just me. I do enjoy the articles in The North – a close reading, poets I go back to – and this is one of the things informing my new ‘poetry-related project’ (more to come on this, but still under wraps as I do the planning and risk assessment!)

Currently reading

Summer editions of The Poetry Review, The North, Poetry & Granta…. Selected Stories by Katherine Mansfield, and Feel Free, Essays by Zadie Smith. (Also Guiding Magazine and anything to do with the new programme ahead of Brownies restarting in a couple of weeks.)

Coming up soon

This coming Saturday 1st September I’ll be joining fellow Hastings Stanza poets for a Hastings Literary Festival Fringe Reading at Grand Cafe Rue de Pera at 11am. (Actually I think we ARE the Fringe – he he).

Then on September 22nd it’s Free Verse the Poetry Book Fair, this year at the Senate House in London and bigger than ever I hear.  I plan to be there helping (?) out on the Frogmore Press table, and possibly flogging the odd copy of Telltale Press anthology TRUTHS.

I’m currently gearing up for the Poetry Swindon Festival 4th – 8th October where I’ll be blogger-in-residence – what the heck’s that, I hear you say, and you’ll be he first to know once I’ve got my strategy in order!  But basically I’ll be attending workshops and readings and blogging about them in the only way I know how, on the Festival Chronicle blog (and bits and bobs here too). I see I’m also down to do a reading and then blog about it – should be interesting! More about the Poetry Swindon Festival to come on this blog – stand back – meanwhile bookings are open, and there’s a fab range of events lined up, all for a VERY modest price. Do come.

On Monday 29th October it’s my birthday – and I’ll be one of several poets reading a new poem at The Troubadour that night. More about this nearer the time.

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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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When the poetry magazines arrive…

Brittle Star 38 cover art

… it’s always exciting, especially of course if you’ve got a poem in it. In the last couple of weeks I’ve been enjoying The Interpreter’s House issue 62, featuring an augmented brace of Telltale Poets (ie 3) and Brittle Star 38.

Both mags are famous for their striking covers, and my first thought when I saw Martin Parker’s design for Brittle Star was ‘Kate Bush!’ Check it out –

Never For Ever cover art

Clearly they are not the same, but it goes to show how many hours I stared at this album cover and how embedded it is in my memory.

The INSIDE of the magazine is of course the thing, and I enjoy the editorial and reviews as well as the poetry. I’m not big on short stories in poetry magazines, although I can be persuaded to read them occasionally. I know it’s common for magazines to do both, but I have a bit of a one-track mind.

Also just through the letterbox is the new Poetry Review (nothing in there by me, but I live in hope – although I haven’t actually submitted there for a while, and you can’t win it if you’re not in it. ) Some nice news though – I was just reading about Ian Humphreys winning the Hamish Canham prize this year (I had a lot of fun working with Ian in our breakout group on the Duffy & Clarke masterclass at Ty Newydd a few years ago. Very nice to see him having such a great 2016) when I saw my poem ‘The houses are coming’ mentioned as being on the shortlist of six for the prize. Huzzah! I need a few confidence-boosters right now and I’ll take that very happily, thanks very much The Poetry Society.

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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/

Two steps forward one step back (or vice versa)

Last week I was deep in Telltale Press business which is probably why I didn’t post an update here. I’ve also been distracted by the process of ‘moving house’ which I put in inverted commas because I’m not entirely sure whether it’s actually happening, or just something I imagine is happening. Rather like those vivid memories we all have of things we think happened to us in the past, when in fact they didn’t. Anyway, it’s not exactly going smoothly and it’s taking far longer than expected, and I’m feeling a bit in limbo.

Poetry at the Crooked Well

So I’ve been grateful for the poetry readings this month, the last of which is tonight in south London, only a few miles from where I grew up (but left when I was twenty). I haven’t yet decided whether to read any of my set-in-London poems, none of which are that cheery and more to the point I wonder if they may not be that good – why do I only think this when I’m considering reading them to a London audience? Hmmm. The invitation to read at this event came from Richard Skinner, the generous and multi-talented host of the Vanguard Readings that I go to when I can. Definitely worth the trip up to Camberwell.

Last Thursday we had a super time at the Poetry Cafe – Tamar Yoseloff & Sue Rose joined Telltales Peter Kenny, Sarah Barnsley and me for what felt like a night of strong performances. The Poetry Cafe is in Covent Garden, but it doesn’t feel like real London in the way that Camberwell or Highgate does. (I still didn’t read any London poems, though!)

Not quite sure where this blog post is going – sorry! But a quick update on things: no acceptances to report, alas, but I have been doing a little writing. Not a lot, but some. I’ve had polite rejections from Poetry Review and Antiphon. Those poems that had been tied up for months I’ve stopped waiting on, and have started reviewing and re-sending out. This seemed like a positive, proactive step.

Currently reading: the June issue of Poetry Magazine which arrived last week, with the lovely line by John Wieners on the back – “Yesterday over the cliff, today on top of it.” Also recently arrived is the Rattle Summer issue, and The Interpreter’s House 59, which is very good indeed, with strong work by some different names. Am I the only one who reads only the poems, not the stories? Unless it’s by an author I know. If I ever started a magazine it would be poetry and commentary only, no prose. That’s one of the things I love about Rattle – “poetry, translations, reviews, essays and interviews.” Although I’d like to include art as well, but I know that pushes up production costs. Oh and the other fun read I had recently was Young Bysshe by Claire Tomalin – a bite-sized romp through the early life of Shelley. I can hardly believe what he packed into his first 21 years. Astonishing.

Angst/

Poetry competitions: ‘do you not know who I think I am?’

Winners & losers roadsign

I laughed out loud at Martin Malone’s editorial in The Interpreter’s House 57 on the subject of poetry competitions.

“What is wrong with us? […] Are we such fragile approval junkies that we need to feel repeatedly validated by our Highly Commended in the East Jokerville 3rd Annual Arts Festival Poetry Competition?” Er, is that a rhetorical question?

He goes on to question what competitions are actually for (“Do they produce some great poetry? Or do they produce great Competition Poetry? Has this notion actually become a poetic sub-genre in itself?”)

Competitions are one of those things that poets are supposed to feel ambiguous about. You know how it is: you shouldn’t appear too bitter if you go in for something and don’t win (the Troubadour winners have already been contacted by the way, and I didn’t get a phone call – PAH!). But then again, if you win something, it doesn’t do to be dismissive in an attempt at modesty (“It’s not as if it were the National!”). And yes, I’m guilty of this – but then a friend pointed out “If you go in for a competition, surely the best possible result is to win?” (ie what the &*$@?* are you moaning about…)

It’s taken me a while but I think I’ve finally learnt my lesson: the best policy is to treat winning in the same way you should treat any compliment – accept it graciously, say thank you but don’t let it go to your head.

Or as Martin says, “A personal rule of thumb with regard to competitions is that they’re all rubbish except the ones I win or do well in. And I’m right: they are all rubbish except those ones. I think I speak for many in the poetry community when I ask the question, ‘Do you not know who you think I am?’ ”  Tee hee!

Events/

Launch of The Interpreter’s House 56

The Interpreter's House 56

In the interests of giving the magazine an airing in different parts of the country, The Interpreter’s House editor Martin Malone came down to the south coast yesterday to launch issue number 56.

It was a very different event to the last one. Firstly, the Redroaster Coffee House is less intimate than the Albion Beatnik Bookstore in Oxford. The event was also by suggestion of Pighog Press, who run their regular events there. As a result, the evening felt a little bit shoe-horned into the Pighog format, with their usual entrance prices and a large number of open mic readers. With an hour of open-mic to fit in, we didn’t get enough of Martin Malone’s lovely compering skills, there was less time for the kind of relaxed banter we had at the Oxford event, and I didn’t come away with a strong feeling about The Interpreter’s House as a magazine. And as usual it went over time, which is tricky for the out-of-towners with trains and buses to catch.

All of this is a shame, as many of the contributors had come a long way to read – Robert Harper from Shrewsbury, for example. Robert is the Stanza rep in his area and also editor of Bare Fiction, a new magazine of poetry and prose. There were lots of friends in the audience and there were some very enjoyable readings. I always like to hear poet friend Charlotte Gann  (LOVE her poem ‘Next Door’ in the magazine) – she doesn’t do many readings so catch her when you can. It was also great to meet (and hear read) Paul McGrane and Richard Skinner, both of whom I’ve had a fairly long internet acquaintance with but never actually met. Incidentally, although several of the open mic readers were excellent, a few could have done with reading these tips from Paul on open mic readings!)

It was brilliant to have The Interpreter’s House come here for a local launch and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves so maybe I’m a lone grump in the wilderness (go on, you can tell me!), but I do think the star of any magazine launch ideally needs to be the magazine and its featured contributors. After the Oxford launch, I had a much better idea about the ethos, history and personality of The Interpreter’s House, and was moved to subscribe. I hope last night’s attendees felt that way, because that would be a real result.

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Launch of The Interpreter’s House #55

Launch of The Interpreter's House 55

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

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

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

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

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

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