Photosynthesise and grow

Now that the rush of Flax is subsiding; the night has been and gone, the anthology released, I need to continue some sort of growth. I need to keep writing and not lose momentum. Not get caught up in the usual feelings of 'everyone else was excellent, should I quit while I'm ahead'. The answer is of course no (I presume) and so I should write some new things and get them out.

I suppose I need to continue in the vein I was in before. Writing in my style in my way. Although after the reading (my first listening as well as reading) I felt that I'd learned something from the other poets. There was something grown-up and developed about the other writing. Something sophisticated. Mine feels a little like naive art. I need to move it on, grow it up and still retain my style. This feels like a daunting process.

Last night, I went out to a beer festival. Two great lines came in to my head, but they were quickly washed away by the cider before I could reach for my notebook (that is never more than a metre from me). I need to retrace the steps through my memory this morning. I think I lost them somewhere between the overcrowded bar and the gale-blown awning....

The Crowd Without Launch

So, the Flax018 launch came and went. Just like that. It was a great night. Download the anthology on the Flax page, and you can follow links to audio recordings and other content.

The other 5 poets were awesome and I was fully in awe of the confidence and the sheer performance. I just got up, read and sat down. This was however, my first time. In fact a lot of firsts: first time I'd ever submitted anything for publication, therefore first time I have been accepted, and first time to air it to the general public. I've only been writing for about a year, a bit less in fact, so all told it wasn't a bad job, but I still felt very conspicuous. I realised quite soon after the event, that it is not my destiny to be a performance poet. I write to be read but I would happily just read it and then leave. I'm not good at the drama, and the body language. I also feel happier letting the audience read their own meaning. I don't like explaining things outside the safe boundaries of the poem itself. I wonder if this is okay?

So what actually happened: well, I was third in line (of 6) and read four poems. Three from the anthology and one short one from no where in particular. It was exciting to see the promo postcards and I took some away for posterity. I also put my fourth poem on to travel tags and left them on tables for people to take away (see photo). These were fun to make but I didn't hang around until the end to see if they all got left on the table. I just ran for the pub.

As soon as I stepped down, I thought 'never again'. It was as painful as science presentations which I am well used to now, but that used to terrify me. When all you can hope for is a poker face. But this morning, I am more philosophical and I think I would embrace the opportunity to read some newer work. I have already begun to detatch from the anthology poems, mainly because they are older, or should I say earlier, and therefore are not typical of what I am writing now. It is a brilliant learning curve and while sat in the pub after I had the beginnings of a new idea, so inspiring were the friends that came to support me, and the other poets reading last night.

No More Sleeps

Just a quick note to self: think of the words, think of the words, think of the words.

I perhaps should have thought twice about printing poems on brown paper but they looked nice in my very bright office. Now I wonder if I'll be able to read them come this evening. They are, however, on some very pretty postcards. I'm really looking forward to seeing the publicity postcards. Hopefully get to bring a few away for family, posterity etc.

The butterflies have taken residence again. But only little ones. No atlas moths here.

I can just see everyone with their books for sale, and their long list of publications, exciting poems and dynamic reading...at some point I will then be invited to take the mic. Hmmm.

Anyway, T minus one hour. Should really be getting ready and having a drink.

One Sleep

It's one day now until the Flax launch of 'The Crowd Without'. I'm going to remember Carol Ann's advice and just think of the words. But while I think about them, I would also like them to look nice. How does one type out their poems for a reading? Do people mainly type or do they write them by hand? Is this an excuse to buy a new pencil or some new paper? I have a tendency to laminate things whenever I get the chance, so this could be an option. I just don't know. It strikes me that I have not done my research. I don't have any collections yet so I can't read from my own book as I am sure the others will do. Maybe I should put them inside a poetry notebook or a nice card? So that I am not stood with a floppy bit of paper looking inadequate. There seems to be no guidance on this, anywhere. However, this is a really good opportunity to take a trip to Borders Deepdale and look around for some inspiration, part with some cash and pass the time before the one sleep that will bring tomorrow round. How exciting.

C. K. Williams

I wanted to post an extract from Elergy For An Artist by C. K. Williams. The poem, taken from his 2003 collection 'The Singing', is broken into 4 parts. It's a poem about grief and so invariably there are lines about love that are as poignant for the living to say out loud, as they are for the dead. I want to put my favourite lines below. They are taken for the second part of the poem Wept (The Day After)

'so much affectionate
accord there was with you,
that to imagine
being without you
is impossibly
diminishing; I relied
on you to ratify
me, to reflect
and sanction with your life
who I might be in mine.'

It's a lovely piece of writing that is all at once tragic, quiet and uplifting. It's powerful. I particularly like the use of the words 'ratify' and 'sanction' as they give the poem edge and save it from being cloying or too much like a wedding vow. Although, actually, it would make a nice wedding vow.

Carol Ann Duffy @ Grasmere

Yes this is me with my poetry notebook signed by Carol Ann Duffy. I managed to stagger some sycophantic words out to the new poet laureate despite being completely in awe! I told her the usual about thinking her poems are wonderful and how she reads so well, then I asked her for advice as I have my first reading coming up. She said, and I quote;

"Just focus on the words"

I was hoping for some secret Duffy magic but this was her gem, and treasure it I will. I then told her that my first three poems are being published on June 17th and she told me what an auspicious date that is as it's her daughter's birthday. I left notebook in hand, having a hot flush and totally blown away.

She read so beautifully and with so much humour. The first half of the evening was given over to poems from The World's Wife and a new poem about girls giggling at school, parts of which interspersed the longer poems. She then had a break and after returned to read from Rapture as well as new poems about her Mother and daughter, and finished the first part of the giggling girls poem. There is apparently a lot more to follow. I was amazed at how she paced every poem just right as she read, she had the comedy timing of a practiced comedian yet her love poems made me want to cry. Wonderful. She really brought the poems to life and hearing them out loud helped me better recognise her amazing use of language. What I liked about Rapture was the wonderful metaphors and the narrative through the book. The ebb and flow of a love affair. I connected with it immediately and found the meanings easy to grasp. But hearing the other poems I was more enchanted by the variety of words and subtle rhymes that really come through when she reads.

There was also another bonus to the evening. When I arrived I only required one seat so was ushered to the front row. Not only was this a perfect vantage point but I also met two women from Cumbria who took a very keen interest in my writing progress and invited me to their writing group in Ulverston, gave me their email addresses and promised to look out for Flax. They then introduced me to the lady behind. Jenny Copley who will also be in Flax 018. Outside we giggled about being tongue tied and having nothing novel to say. It was very silly, but a brilliantly fortuitous meeting on an unforgettable evening and six quid for two new friends and the wisdom of the laureate is not a bad deal at all!