The Great Unread

I read recently about unread fiction, an attempt to discover 'mid list' authors who write good fiction that may not have sold many copies or are currently between publishers. I love the idea, its acknowledgement that when it comes to writing we may be bypassing some very interesting work in favour of work we've heard about that is more readily available.

The question of 'mid' writers is interesting to me- what constitutes it? Well, I suppose writers who may have been writing a while, may have had one or two books out on small presses but are not widely known or promoted, or between publsihers. As a reader, there is a little thrill discovering work by writers like this, a feeling of stumbling across hidden treasure. The plight of the mid writer is a sad one. They have none of the allure of the new writer, the excitement of being seen to create something shiny and new by publishers and other literary players. They have none of that vital ingredient that sees the new writer through- hope. And yet, the work may shine, polished by experience and development. Does writing shine if no one is around to read it? The plight of the mid writer isn't an easy one. Just as they hit on development or improvement in their work the excitement is short lived, by the cold hard fact of their status. What do they do with it now? I'm not sure what the answer is other than a writer keeps writing, developing. One day we pray someone may see it, maybe not.

I love the idea of the quest to find the great unread. The quest is for fiction.
It is a great idea, and instantly makes me consider finds I've made of my own.
When it comes to poetry, a list like this would be equally valid and interesting. Would such a list help the mid poet? Maybe, maybe not. I doubt there would be an interest by agents or book stores in this, but from readers of poetry? Perhaps it would be exciting way to discover work that slips under the radar somehow.

Mid writers take heart, keep writing and trying. Always.





http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/booksblog/2010/oct/22/help-find-fiction-unheralded-stars?CMP=twt_fd

Competitions, Poetry, Sweat and Tears

I'm thrilled to be able to announce I was shortlisted for The Arvon International Poetry Competition this year.

I should have been jumping up and down when I heard. Actually, it was so unexpected it was a shock. I read the letter about it under a banner of 'in reference to your submission'... It didn't sound promising. I opened the document and found I'd been shortlisted! And what did I do? My hands shook. I had to read it seven times to check i'd read it right. Then I burst into tears! Pathetic!


At the risk of being unfashionably self deprecating I'll say this- to be honest this news came at a time when I felt my poetry adventures were O. V . E. R. That belief, that quiet little knowledge writers need sometimes that this is better work than before and someone will enjoy it someday, was lost to me. I started the year with it, bit by bit it slipped away. I was sitting on work I felt was good and was too scared to even send it anywhere. After reading some horrible comments about my work online I finally hung up my poetry slippers and said 'stuff this, I'm done.' Then something happened.

I got up on the Monday after reading the nasty comment and said, 'Yep, I have no faith, but I said I was going to enter this competition so I will honour this one last promise to my work.' I worked on the poem I had in mind, edited again, many times, printed it out twenty times. The poem was getting better. I worked on it more. I sent it before I could change my mind.
To be honest I sent it and part of me thought 'Should I bother?' But I did. I sent it like a gambling man putting the last pennies in his pocket on a horse he isn't sure he belives in anymore.

I'm glad I did. Getting shortlisted was a huge relief, to see something that confirmed I wasn't a bad writer. It felt like full circle that it was the Arvon Competition. The first encouragement I ever got as a writer was at Arvon. I was on the dole. I was doing a part time MA. I was on the waiting list for a job in the centre I didn't really want. There was a local arts competition to win a bursary to pay for a place on an Arvon Course. I entered work and won. I didn't have much faith in my work and the Arvon course changed that. The tutors were encouraging and kind. They didn't even care I was too scared to read out loud. Just when I needed it Arvon set me on track as a writer. Now, just when i'd about given up the honour of being on the Arvon Competition shortlist gave me a much needed injection of faith I hope will set me back on the path.

Congratulations to everyone shortlisted and the winners. They'll be going to an awards ceremony in London. I hope they have a great time. I was tempted to go, but I've never been to anything like that before. I couldn't imagine it. There'd be poets there, yeah, but what is some of them are famous? Is it cool to talk to them? Is it silly to ask them to sign your books? Are you supposed to ignore them to stay cool? It's an unknown etiquette landmine!I know so little about all that :)I weighed the odds, counted my writing piggy bank and saw there wasn't enough in it to get me to London and back. I wondered if I was supposed to get someone to go on my behalf. I had no idea.Thinking about it, I wasn't sure there was anyone I could ask.

Moreso, I thought I daren't go- what if something weird happens like someone says 'I liked your poem' or 'it was a good poem'. I thought of how I'd sat and cried with relief, joy, whatever, the day I found out about being shortlisted and decided it was too risky.If someone said they liked the poem I might just go down in interweb history as that silly poet who cried in the room full of proper poets!So I'm staying home, raising a glass to the shortlist, Arvon, the judges and the winners of the competition. Well done for getting there, well done for good writing, and well done for taking a chance.

I'm delighted my poem will be in the Arvon anthology. I'm honoured to be shortlisted. It's just what I needed to make me feel like a writer again :)

last poem

poem for poetry day, new and still will be messed with, happy poetry day, a x

Suitcase to Return Home

To journey home I need a suitcase so big
it can become a small apartment. Toothbrush,
nicotine gum in a Juicy Fruit packet, wire cutters
to get me through the perimeter snip through the chain-link,
masking tape repairs the fence I’ve cobbled round myself.

The gloves are never thick enough to trick the cold,
to prevent the burrs of, the sting
of disappointment when I shake my mother’s hand.

The flashcards are in my pocket, tiny pictures of cushions,
shower, toilets, coffee, simple phrases back and forth
held in front of our lips to communicate our mundane needs.

The hard hat is self explanatory, the steel capped boots
with feather soles are mine alone, eggshell walking my speciality.

The torch, I leave in the case, homes’ searchlights blaze,
whatever goggles I use, meeting its eye is a white flash
that burns an image of my parents when they were young onto my face.
My suitcase is fit to burst, stuffed with so many things I stole

from home and now smuggle back.
Still, there are never enough dirt devils or dustpans
for everything under the carpet. Never enough batteries
or few enough, to prevent the half light cast
into corners piled high with all we don't want to see.

National Poetry Day- home poem

After I Went Home

After, I still went home, there was no other

word for it, altered as a paper house, folded

into the shape of a box. I opened the same door,

stepped into the cold hall and thought of Eskimo’s,

I could use a hundred words for home.

These rooms now, the same, their womb

like shed tights still baring the shape of feet, lives.

In a scratched wooden bowl a purple key.

The next door opened easily, gasped in my face,

I thought of feathers on a bird by the road.

Just as we had left it, this lounge, the thin skin

of the plastic couch weathered and cool

without limbs, hands, to give it breath.

Two mugs on the floor, one spilled and dried,

Two pink plates, sandwiches cut into triangles

Neat as hospital corners, curled as fingers,

A film of the cruelty of air across sliced egg.

Who where we here? I thought, how did

anyone ever take arrange bread on a rim like a zodiac sun

and think it mattered? How did we live never thinking

these ordinary things would be reminders of scenes of kindness?

A sift of cinnamon freckling the surface of coffee

dissolved to liquid and I did not see it.

These cups with their cataracts of old milk

meet my eye, novelty shapes on the foam gone,

the intention holding strong.

I never looked and saw an ant drowning in sugar

or a note in a bottle. I never thought one clean patch of carpet

in this room I know like moving hands would look like a map

I’d press my face nose to, bury myself in its shag,

but still can’t read to make my way home.

How I felt about The Full Indian Rope Trick

The first poem I'm going to hold my hands up and say I don't exactly know everything about it, but I love it, is The Full Indian Rope Trick by Colette Bryce. I do this to encourage people to admit not knowing sometimes is OK. I want to lead by example that if you don't get it all or don't feel clever enough to talk about a poem, it doesn't matter. If you get something from a poem read poems. The feeling you get from a good poem is valid, whether it matches what a text book says or not. I've never read anything about what academics say about this poem. For the aim of admitting not knowing I didn't want to. It seems a bit shoddy to try and encourage more people to read poetry if we feel we need to then read articles to explain it. We don't. Just read it, recommend it, don't always know much more than what it does for you. It's a good start.

I love The Full Indian Rope Trick, but the poem feels a bold and scary choice to talk about. The poem won the National Poetry Competition and was later voted most popular winner of the prize in 20 years of winners. It is a well known poem. It is a beloved poem and it is excellent. There will no doubt be many scholars who know every answer to this poem. Then there's me. I'm going to say I love it, but it is still mysterious to me.

The first lines of the poem are : ' There was no secret

murmured down through a long line

of elect; no dark fakir'

This seems apt to me in the act of talking about poetry. Poetry itself seems perhaps to some that we should know secrets of how to approach it. If we don't, if we weren't born to a long line of poetry readers, how do we know where to start?

I like the beginning of the poem admitting the poet or character in the poem doesn't know secrets. 'The Full Indian Rope Trick' seems to be about this old magic trick. All the parts are there, the rope, the setting, the feat and up and away. As a reader I felt right there, but still, after reading the poem many times, I've wondered what exactly is the full indian rope trick a metaphor for? I talked about this once with a poet who felt it was about disappearing. Maybe it is. I still wasn't sure, it seems more triumphand to me than that, an ascencion in a way. There is the sense of leaving something behind yes, it seems to lie in the line-

the slack weight of a rope

coiled in a crate, a braid

eighteen summers long,

Perhaps the rope climber is eighteen years old, letting go of an eighteen year an old belief or grudge, but I don't know for sure.

The lines, 'Goodbye, thin air, first try,' give me this feeling of the climber of the rope letting old failures go. 'Goodbye, Goodbye', this feels like elation. For me, the poem is much more than the act of disappearing, which is comething I wouldn't equate with the triumphant feeling of the poem. This rope is 'caught by the sky, then 'me, young, (is) up and away.'

The line: No proof,

no footage,

but I did it'

leaves me with a feeling of wanting to cheer, like someone in the crowd watching a show. Yes! She did it, regardless of who saw or what they may think.

It feels the rope climber has left something behind, let go, and ascended to a new level somehow. The inclusion of 'Guidhall Square', walls, bells' may be in reference to mourners, grief, memorium. 'Walls, bells' seem to indicate a church- is the rope climber experiencing freedom from church and state? Is this poem a healing? Perhaps. But I don't feel I know exactly who the narrator is, how exactly, what exactly is being let go of, who or why, I'm not a hundred percent sure. Yet, even not knowing, the poem gives me a good feeling as a reader. I want to punch the air and shout 'Too right!' This feeling of a huge personal triumph in the piece rings out clear.

The magic of the poem, for me, comes in a way in not always knowing. Just as a magician does not reveal his secrets, the poet does not reveal exactly what the trick was for them, who they are, everything it meant or how this trick was done. Would I love this poem as much if I knew exactly? Maybe it would be less of a trick.

The beauty, of course, is the poem itself became a full Indian rope trick- it won. 'I did it...'The last lines may refer to the act of being a poet itself and so much more. There has been pain and loss. It's been hard. Whatever I know or don't know matters less than the sense that whether the rope climber appears to have disappeared, they've been through something private with no footage, no cheers. Yet it mattered. The narrator is still here and strong.The reader feels alive.

And what would I tell them

given the chance?

It was painful; it took years.

I'm my own witness,

guardian of the fact

that I'm still here.

http://poetrysociety.org.uk/content/competitions/npc/npc03/

Talking about poems

For National Poetry day for a week I'm going to do something we don't ususally do- not just talk about poems we love, but admit parts of them that are a mystery. I hope people won't dis me for these efforts, the aim is not to be a critic or be clever. Poetry has enough of that. The problem with poetry is maybe we worry we have to be a professor to read it- we don't. The aim is this- TALK ABOUT POEMS, no judgement, not having all the answers, but saying 'Yes! This poem speaks to me or intrigues me- whether I know all the answers or not.' I'm hoping that by being brave enough to do this other people who have the poetry fear will be encouraged to say Yes I like poems, I don't always get all of them, but that's OK.

Forgive my ignorance, don't forgive it, whatever, but say, yeah, talking about a reaction or personal
reaction to a poem is as good a place to start as any. The thing is to start.
Here goes. :)

Poetry blushing

Tony Williams said in on the Salt blog this week '

'we shouldn’t blush to help people discover poems'.

http://blog.saltpublishing.com/2010/10/04/help-someone-find-their-way-in-on-national-poetry-day/

He's right. Why don't we recommend poems to people in the same way we do a great album or novel? I suppose it is fear. Williams says, 'they don’t know where to start. They’re a bit scared of poetry... Sometimes I’ve had non-poetry people respond to my poems by saying, ‘I enjoyed it, but I don’t think I understood it.'
I could relate to this. I've been writing and reading poetry for many years, yet I've never done a review of a poetry book. Why? Yes, I have loved the work of many poets. But there are some I didn't felt I got or could find a way into and felt ashamed to admit it. It's this sort of fear of feeling stupid, poetry itself as a pointing finger, that stopped me and may put many people off talking about poetry (if we talk about what we loved, we may have to admit ones we didn't get- yikes.) I like how Williams responded to readers saying they enjoyed his work but weren't sure they got it. His response was refreshing- this notion about whether someone got all of it or not isn't as important sometimes as a feeling a reader may have. The power of poetry I think is we might not always get all of it, it might not provide black and white answers, but raise questions, spaces for us to consider as readers. It may open a door but now show you everything behind it, and it is often here we can see something of ourselves.
Many of my favourite poems I can remember no more than a line of. I might not even like the rest of the poem as much as this line which seems to reverberate through me and stick. Or I may love the rest of the poem, but however many times I read it it is one line that stays to the expense of another- one line has spoke to me so much it will always be hard to remember what else the poem said.Is this OK? Would the poet say no, there is so much more there? Maybe, because yes, there will be more than one line of worth in a poem, but like a piece of music it strikes different notes in different people. Just as some people may love a song because of one key change and another may like it because of a chorus, our responses to poems are never going to be right and wrong answers. Unlike poetry, which music we love or why was never something we had to analyse bar by bar in English class. We never felt there were ticks to right and wrong answers about which line from a song we recall in the shower.

Maybe a good way to talk about poetry is to lose our vanity and academic gameface and shrug and say 'I don't know exactly, but this poem stayed with me.' Show it to a friend, see what they say. Have a discussion that feels like walking in the dark as you compare how a poem made you felt or what it may have been about. You may be surprised at what comes up.

For National Poetry day I'm doing just that. I'm saying OK, I like poetry, but I'll never get to the bottom of all of it, and that's OK (maybe once we feel we do there is less within poetry to allure us back, like a lover that spills all its secrets on a first date- why go there?) All week I will think about a different poem a day and say 'I don't know for sure, but I like this because..' Maybe more of us should lose the fear, bring poetry out our closets and do the same :)

who you know, how do you know

I've been thinking about cliques lately. There are huge advantages to social networking, but I wonder if there is a downside? Objectivity. Once, we hardly knew who writers were. We knew their work, but not much about them. We didn't have to. It was mostly about their work. We didn't think we know them personally. All this has changed, writers are friends with other writers, etc, moreso with social networking than ever. Does this make things feel woolly? For instance, once, it was poor protocol for a writer to contact a reviewer in any way, vice versa. Likewise, we would never ask for a blurb from a friend. Now, there is certainly less distance between writers. Most writers would be hard pushed to find writers that aren't a social networking friend they have had contact with. This is all well and good. I'm not saying the people who are published, get good blurbs, etc aren't talented- they are. There is brilliant writing out there, but what about work written by writers not involved in cliques and social circles? Will it be given a fair chance, an equal chance, to work by people within circles of friends? I'm not sure.

I now find myself sitting on work that is better than anything I've done before, but I don't feel confident it will be given a fair chance. Am I being bullied into quitting writing by cliques? Does this happen? Maybe.

Strange Little Books I loved

Everyone seems to be making lists of books they've loved lately. Here are mine. They're not all new books, but are new to me this year. This is my list of favourite books of stories I read this year (there are many more books of stories I loved, but I read them last year.) Many of these I got interested in after reading 'Short Circuit' (Salt)- A Guide to the Art of the Short Story. I already enjoyed collections by many of the writers in the book (Vanessa Gebbie, Tania Hershman, Alex Keegan, Nuala Ni Chonchuir, David Gaffney) but some of the writers were newer to me. I read their essays, then bought their books.
Sarah Salway and Adam Marek discussed their choices when writing certain stories in such an interesting way I had to go and read them straight away (a writer talking about someone getting their fridge painted and another talking about hey Jude abd zombies? who could resist?)

Aimee Bender - 'Willfil Creatures'-

I loved these stories, how they seem unusual but still have a point ( a man keeping a tiny man as a pet in a cage by his bed, a woman who finds a place that sells words)- amazing writing. (currently waiting for more to arrive!)

Etgar Keret - 'Missing Kissinger' or 'The Nimrod Flip out'-

I read these for the first time in january. They are so good I've read them more than once. I love the poigniant emotional tug behind the oddness (the girl in the bottle, a magician who is afraid of what he may pull out his hat- beautiful, sad and strange.)

Sarah Salway - 'Leading the Dance'- I enjoyed 'Messages' (flash) so much I had to buy this. I expected alot from it and wasn't disappointed. It was even better when it arrived and turned out to be signed! :)

Nik Perring-(flash) 'Not So Perfect' (Roastbooks)

Don't let the title fool you, only someone who writes this good would dare give a book such a title. (otherwise sarcy reviewers would rub their hands together.) Again, unusual little stories but with a real point to them. Lonely people with real beating hearts in the most unusual of places in this book (a man listening to someone crying on the other side of a wall, an angel in a carpark, a shark boy in love.) Amidst strangeness is sadness and hope. These stories hit the right note. Wonderful.

Dan Rhodes-(flash) 'Anthropology'

100 stories of 100 words, light in tone, addictive somehow. Some of them decieve, they start and almost feel like jokes. The best sneak up with little truths about love that caught me unawares and made me smile.

Adam Marek- 'Instruction Manual for Swallowing'

I'm one of those people who never buys anything I hear lots about till later. (I didn't see The Simpsons when it first aired and there were t-shirts everywhere, or The Office till after it was aired- then I found them when I wasn't hearing about them so much and loved them.)(Awkward bugger? I like to think of it as not too susceptible to advertising - discerning book buyer :) I've heard a lot of good things about this book since it came out. I finally bought it this year. The stories, again, are outside the box: zombies, a giant creature in the city, modern art gone wrong). Often they have a cinematic feel (someone make a movie of Meaty's Boys now) but beyond the situation more is at stake, little morsels about human nature to go away and chew (Meaty's Boys, Jumping Jennifer are sublime.) Wow.

How to keep motivated?

I'm wondering what the best way to stay motivated as a writer is. It's easy sometimes, on the back of a success to keep writing and sending out work. Likewise when there is a deadline involved, a new book in the post, a new project, a pat on the back still making your writer faith tingle. Other times its less easy. How does a writer keep writing when self doubt rears its ugly head? I hate to say it, but several people this year really destroyed my confidence. Everytime I sit to write a poem I remember. Likewise, when I sit to consider sending a poem anywhere I can't do it. I'm scared of abuse. If any writer told me this about themselves I'd say- Send work out NOW. Get back on the horse. Get some acceptances, positive comments to balance the negative out. What I'd say is prove the fucker wrong.
How to do it though, start, to get the faith back, love poetry and live with it again like I did for so long, I really don't know. Starting is thing.

when to promote, when not?

I've been thinking about promotion lately. For writers the net means its part of daily life. We are supposed to promote, everyday (we want to to an extent.) But are there times when it's OK to give it a rest? If we don't have anything new coming out should we still be promoting anyway? I'm not sure what the answer is, but my reservation about having time out from FB was 'darn, i'm supposed to be on there to promote my last book.' I want to, I should, I know. I do support the press, but sometimes there are times life is busy, times when new work needs attention to be written. Unlike a piece of work, which will be finished eventually, when it comes to promotion no end is sight. How do we know it's done? We don't. It never is.

To a certain extent the bigger the writer is is, the more they sell, the more promotion takes care of itself a little bit. People review books they've heard of, sucessful writers have opportunities to do residencies, readings, have interviews, get plugged by their friends, etc. For little known writers though- how do we make people aware of our work? How can we promote? And is it OK to step away sometimes to move onto the next thing, the writing?

I don't know the answers to these questions. I do know being a writer is different than it used to be with the advent of the net as a promotion tool. Writers may once have been squeezing in time to write amongst daily life, other jobs, family and commitments. This hasn't changed, though now writers must give more time to promotion and still find time to write and do all those other things. How? And when is it OK for time out?

Are we addicted to the net?

I recently decided to step away from facebook. I had my reasons. Largely, I thought it was time to concentrate on new things. Facebook is interesting as a phenomenon. What started as something we keep in touch with friends with and might check once a week has become something people are on everyday. I went with this thinking for a while. It makes sense to make friends and see what other writers are doing, etc. Also, I thought it may help get people interested in buying my next book. There are many books being plugged on facebook everyday. Its a place used by authors to plug- no harm there. But what about when the fun runs out?

I got to a point were facebook just was not fun any more. I wondered how much time it may be eating from my day. Did the negative aspects outweigh the positive? A minute here, five minutes there, putting off something on a to do list while I just encourage what this person is up to first... I suppose we are all better at multi tasking than we once were. On our computers alone we have email minimised to check in with, documents open and facebook minimised in the corner to go back to here and there. How do these minutes add up? And what is doing for our concentration?

Social networking, mobile phones, etc have changed the workplace. My husband works in an office. There, it is not uncommon for people to spend time on facebook socially, text friends, chat on their mobiles. My husband doesn't do this. When there is a rush job on he may be waiting for information from colleagues and happen to notice they are still taking ten minutes here and there to check in on facebook or take personal calls. Once work was one place. We rarely chatted to people from our own social life during the work day, maybe on our lunch hour. Maybe not. Our attitude has changed. At any given time we are juggling business and leisure, the flippant and serious, promotion and creativity.


I thought carefully about stepping away from facebook. These days writers are supposed to use it, expected to actively plug themselves and their book essentially every day. Publishers do the same thing. I wondered though- how long for? What's a fair amount of time for a writer to try and plug a book for if they are doing it every day? A year? Two? Until the next book comes out? (could be a decade, or may never happen. How many hours per sale?) When is it time to walk away?

I found myself having to deal with abuse and rude people sometimes. I thought, hang on why am I tolerating this? My book has been out almost three years, as a writer I've moved on to new work. I decided to leave facebook for a while, but it was with reservations and regrets. There are some lovely people I'll miss (I apologise to them and hope they understand.)

1)I am sorry to the genuine people on there I do like who I am interested in and wish to support and keep in touch with. I'm happy to hear from them via email or elsewhere.
2) I am sorry if it creates an anti social impression or that I don't support the publishers.

One thing I considered was: If I go on facebook can I just check in on those great people without seeing what other people are doing or saying? I didn't think so. Can I avoid being sucked in? We often go online for one thing like research and can easily click interesting looking links and end up spending more time than we intended or end up in placed we might not want to be. Facebook can we handle it? Just a minute, no more... I can stop anytime I want..

So, to clear up any confusion, my compromise is this: I spend no time on facebook whatsoever (infact I can no longer personally get into the account- cold turkey is the only way.) However, a third party will occasionally post for me if there is news to share. The reason I decided to do this was because there a few people who have contacted me in the past who genuinely enjoyed my writing. I am grateful to them. I appreciate their kindness and encouragement. So, for that handful of people, a third party may occasionally post links to new work when it is published, that way the people who want to can read it and be aware where it is.

Has not being on facebook improved anything? Time will tell.

Nettiquette

Following an 'anonymous' smear on myself and my work I have found myself thinking about ethics and etiquette online lately. Online we pretty much say what we like, what are the pitfalls of this? It's easy to slate someone online, damage a colleagues career in front on thousands of people or be snide, but do we take the sort of care being constructive in our feedback online as we would if we were looking someone in the eye? For instance, in a review online someone who is Oxford educated said they don't like my photo 'my whole pose'. If a writer had been writing a review for a national newspaper would they mention what the writer looks like as part of their argument? I don't think so. In reviewing for journals we take our time. The best reviews, even negative ones, offer constructive points, examples of what we are saying. We would consider our personal dislike of what someone looks like to weaken our professionalism at best, to be discrimination at worst. Online this sort of stuff largely seems OK. I don't think it is. At our fingertips now we can leave a review, anonymously. Just as writers form alliances they can as easily ellimnate their competition, anonymously.

It has made me consider conduct and ethics on the net. I can't change how other people behave online or elsewhere, but I have my own code of ethics as to what is acceptable nettiquette. I hope others have the same.

1) Reviews- I make a point of never doing reviews of books I didn't like or aren't my sort of thing.(eg:) I'm not a sci fi fan so I don't touch them, I can't treat it fairly or do justice to the genre it is. The reason is I'm not sure what the advantages of a review with no empathy to the work of the writer or its theme are except to make the reviewer look big and clever. I only review what I 'm interested in, hoping to encourage other people who may also be to look into it. If there are areas that could have been improved upon it's OK to mention it, but I don't see any advantage of reviewing just to destroy a writer or hinder a publishers sales (why bother? Being a writer or publisher isn't easy these days. Something like poetry is marginal enough without stabbing poets of any kind in the back.) If you want to trash someone aim for the big boys, writers on the major bucks, instead of any easy target. They have nothing lose.

2) Comments- I've always tried to encourage other writers on social networking forums and be friendly. Interesting discussion is fine, but I don't believe in slating anyone or being rude.

3) Never discuss someone who is not there. This is something I never thought about till recently, but I wonder how often people are publicly destroying the reputation of people who aren't party to the discussion? It may be fair game to question editorial policy of a press in an online discussion for instance, but isn't it somewhat cowardly to trash someone is not even there to defend their name? I don't think I have ever done this, but I now have a concious policy that I will never negatively discuss the work of any writer online if the writer is not present. It's only fair.

4) I will never make a negative comment about what someone looks like online. It's not relevant. It's akin to schoolyard bullying. It is not PC. It destroys confidence and isn't funny. (Come to think of it, I should really try to apply this principle to real life instead of muttering that guy down the road is Alvin the Squirrel.)

5) I will never put someone down in any way to make myself look good or clever. It isn't.

6) If I like someone or their work I will stand by that regardless of fashion, social cliques or an attempt to curry favour with presses, reviewers or writers. I won't cozy up to them in an attempt to further myself.

7) Consideration, Respect and Honesty. As easy as it to forget form behind the saftey of a screen I remember that on the other end lies a human being and consider what impact I may be about to do or say (or how I do or say it) may have on them personally or professionally.

I don't think this will take on, but this is my nettiquette. I aim never to say anything unfair or to which I wouldn't be willing to put my name.

Quaint old expression my grandparents used to say 'It's nice to be nice, costs nothing to be nice, if you can't be nice say nowt.' They might have been onto something. Online, off line, perhaps it isn't a bad idea to think 'did i do or say anything that may have made someone's day worse today?'

Are we Just Bullies?

It seems we are more aware of the issue of bullying than we once were when it comes to the playground and children. We campaign to stop it. We want schools to be aware of it. There are organisations to support its victims. Such awareness is long overdue. As a survivor of school yard bullying the issue is one I take very seriously. I hope there is no one who will have to tolerate it.

As an adult I've started to wonder how far bullying still goes on? We'd like to think this is stuff of the playground, that as adults we don't bully and won't be bullied. I'm not sure how true this is. Adults may be bullied in the workplace, their communities, even by family members. In the workplace we can possibly complain (though often don't). But what about bullying elsewhere? Social media has introduced a new element to childhood bullying, behind closed doors in the safety of home bullying can occur online. Is this happening to adults? I believe so. Social Networking sites have their own hierarchy of users and cliques, people with more friends than others, etc, snide remarks, gossip. We may find ourselves in the position to the feeling of being excluded from the circle of the popular kids at school. The advantages of social networking are numerous for businesses and anyone with a product to sell, but is there a downside? Perhaps so. Are social networking sites used to gossip? Are we saying things that in any other context would be slander or at very least mean? Do we put other people down to make ourselves look better? Do we say things with a smiley emoticon that we would never say to a friend?

The danger of social networking is that we do all this. Behind a smiley face or wink icon we can be as bitchy as we want. We can say things we'd never say to a colleague. Worse, we can say this in a public forum. We don't think much of it even. Hey, we can say its a joke. Whoever leaves a comment and wonders how supportive is this? Could what I'm saying be the start of a rumour that is damaging to someone's career? More importantly, would I say this to someone's face? On the net it seems saying anything is fair game as long as we use to right emoticon or post a link to 'Thank you for being a friend.' I'm not sure it is. Facebook is a site that began as a way to stay in touch with friends. perhaps like many people I opened an account to see photos of where people I'd lost touch with live now and hear about what they are doing. It was fun. Increasingly though Facebook is more than this. Publishers, recording labels, writers, song writers and musicians use it as a place to create awareness of their brand and work. We are expected to. The nature of this is it isn't friends but colleagues we are adding to our list. A negative comment about us, a snide remark, even a joke is there for colleagues to see, to potentially start rumours that may be damaging personally or professionally. We don't consider this, it's only facebook after all.

Social networking has created a blurring of boundaries, but our attitude to how we use it hasn't changed. On facebook we may find ourselves at the equivalent of a business meeting in our pyjamas. Even something as simple as deleting a friend from a friends list may be noticed by colleagues and begin gossip and speculation. But no one deletes a friend and considers this. Likewise to don't consider if what we are saying publicly about someone else may be damaging. For instance, a friend left a comment on my facebook page once saying I should write about being a failed poet who can't find a publisher. As well intended as such a comment may be someone reading it out of context or otherwise may see such a comment and say to someone 'She can't find a publisher' (certainly damaging in a network of writers and publishers.) Infact, I have made no attempts to find a publisher and have sent no poetry to any publisher whatsoever! But such a comment used out of context can create the impression that I've tried and failed. If I was to send work out at any point publishers on facebook may dismiss work as soon as it arrives, prejudiced by the belief that the work has been rejected everywhere! I suppose we'd all like to think such things don't happen, but we are being naive (when it comes to facebook we may have a light tone, but we still read into things and speculate- I've had people approach me based on their interpretation of jokey messages to ask if so and so is sleeping with so and so or so so is getting divorced.) It happens, yet we don't consider when we delete a friend or leave a comment how it may be interpreted and what effect it may have on someone or their career.

It's time to stop bullying, spreading rumours. With the merging of friends and colleagues the carefree snide smiley face days of facebook and other social networking sites may be gone. Just when we thought we could be flippant it may be time once again to think about what we say.

The pros and cons of Facebook

Yesterday I read an article by Phil Brown (Silkworm) considering Facebook and its use in the poetry world. He made some interesting points about Facebook as something we didn't see coming, I couldn't agree more. The problem of course is that Facebook is a place where :

1) Actual friends, even family, may chat
2) At the same time Facebook is used by writers and publishers as a place to make people aware of their product.

Consequently, Facebook can be an odd mix between business and pleasure. The good news is Facebook has changed how writers find out about events and developments in the literary world- its all right there in one big mall, writer after writer pushing a flyer into your hand. The downside is, we may find ourselves at a business a conference in our pyjamas.The way we speak to our friends is never going to be the same as the self promoting tone of confidence and boost in which we are expected to present ourselves to fellow writers and publishers. Facebook lacks an ability to categorize, to spilt an account into sections of column A) friends and column B) business acquaintances. It would be a useful tool. It is becoming increasingly necessary.

Facebook has enabled writers and publishers to find out about events and opportunities, but most importantly sell their wares. The plus side is writers no longer have to be as isolated. They make 'friends' with other writers, and may receive encouragement, find readers. It will be rare to find a writer who acknowledges there may be a down side to this. As Phil Brown says, we don't really consider our internet comments to the extent we would our poetry or prose. Would we write a review for a newspaper for example without backing up our argument? Would we review something that we can't be even handed about? Would we say something snide about a fellow writer? On Facebook (perhaps elsewhere on the net also) it all seems OK, as long as we use a little smiley face :) or a wink ;)


It does get tiring though, so many books plugged all day long. I seem to spend more time reading about how good someone is than reading their work, see their acomplishments more often than the goods that back it up. As a reader, I don't get much from reading about how good a writer is, I sort of get tired of it. I'd rather read the work. As a writer, I don't get much from seeing who is mates with who and who's not. And as a person, well the merging of facebook of real friends and family with business and colleagues means it's less fun, hard to be honest if you're having a bad day when you are supposed to have your business face on. If you can be a salesman all the time facebook may be for you. Not me. Life's too short to think in status updates.

The inherent sexism of 'chick lit' poetry, a response to AS Gill

The issue of the ethics of anonymous lit crit aside, let's get down business about your specific criticism of my book.

Here it is in all its nasty glory:

'And I'm sorry, but from the sample you have on the site of Angela Readman's work, I am not at all impressed: it seems gimmicky, titillating, and far too conversational/slangy for my tastes. I just don't get the post modern mantra that everything, including poetry, the most soulful of artforms, should be sexed up. It immediately puts me off and Readman's pose, her book title, and many poem titles and themes do absolutely nothing for me at all so I'd be unlikely to look any further. This is not what I would look for in poetry I'm afraid - there's enough of this kind of thing in more popular mediums these days. It just reminds me of the chick-lit poetry of Clare Pollard. Sorry. Life's too short.' ASGill

I won't pretend this hasn't destroyed me Mr 'Gill'. I'll be honest, your remarks are literary wounds from which I don't know if I will recover. I want to address some of your remarks in particular, particularly this my work being 'titillating' and invoking some 'post modern mantra that poetry, the most soulful of artforms (forgive me, this is where I spit tea from my mouth with no sexual innuendo whatsoever, purely from rising laughter) should be sexed up.' I will let you off with gimmicky MrGill, as I can see how someone who doesn't see what I am doing may well pounce on the theme of the book and find this superficial reason to damn it.
Here are my points regarding these issues:

1) Nowhere on my book do I attempt to disguise what the book is about. The blurb states this a book that includes the sex industry (I'd say it is then a safe assumption that there may be some sex in it.) Frankly, why you bothered reading it when this is clear, given your own very specific views on poetry, I have no idea.

2) Ok, then, so the setting of the book involves sex. However, I am confused as to how in any way my work is 'titillating' and 'sexing things up.' Readers who have read the book carefully have disagreed and have looked beyond the setting to see the content. Yes, shocking that there may be, one or two (and one or two poems only) contain actual sex. Titillating? A poem that deals with a naive narrators of an experience that is questionably date rape? Really? A poem that deals with a step father making sexual innuendo to a teenage girl? A poem that sees said girl walking along and even a taxi driver making overtly sexist comments? I'm glad you think this is sexy and titillating. The fact that some people are unable to see beyond the external circumstance/ appearance of women, to the wider issues of their life stories, moments in their lives and media influences reminds me why I needed to write this book.

3) Trust me, if I wanted to be titillating I really could. There are dozens of opportunites to, particularly within the subject matter (douche products, implants, lube. cfome shots, the whole kabang.) I did not include such things because, circumstance or not, the book is about humanising that we have sexualised, telling stories about people.) Finding humanity. I'll take a poem like Bodil and the Pigs as an example, if I was going to be 'sexing things up' or 'titillating' I would write about this character as a woman making disturbing porn films. Instead, I wrote a sequence about a child and her parents, her alcoholic father, her religious upbringing. There is no sex here, only rural scenes, only a mute sort of buried sadness.

4) I see you use the term 'chick lit' poetry. a) This is a sexist term to start with b) what exactly is chick lit? Forgive my ignorance, I never read it, but isn't chic lit actually work about women, light, glamorous, comedic in tone, romantic and , sadly, all too often involving shopping? You may well have a different palate to mine and many women if a girl removing her braces with a pair of pliers, sleeping on an old couch under the freeway or being coerced into sex, leaves the sugary taste of chic lit in your mouth.

I can only assume then that by 'chick lit' poetry you are referring to 1) the gender of the writer 2) the fact she is, unappogeticaly, writing about women.

This term is loaded with a great many assumptions that include factors being taken into consideration about the age and sex of the writer. (Oh, yes, BTW thank you so much for putting my name in the same sentence as Clare Pollard, I have alot of respect for her. I've been hoping to introduce my work to some of the people who enjoy her work for years.)

If writing about gender and women's experience makes me chick lit I make no apology. I will make no apology for my sex or writing about anything related to it.

'This immediately puts me off, and Readman's pose'-

This was a fascinating insight MrGill. What I did was write a book. I included a photo of myself ONLY because all Salt books include them, as do most books by any press. I am interested as to why 'my pose' (personally) is at all relevant? I am actually somewhere who has very poor levels of confidence, as many women do. I wish we lived in a world where photos on books weren't required. The photo is not suggestive. I am not exposing myself or in some sort of sex position. I am buttoned to the neck in a shirt and tie. It is a modest photo taken in my house.
The photo of me on the Salt site, again, is not suggestive. It was taken half an hour before I got married.

You even mentioning it exposes a huge double standard. If I was not a woman, if I was a writer from an ethnic minority say- would you consider it acceptable to comment on what I look like? If I was even an elderly gentleman? No. You would not. It would not be relevant, but somehow because I am a woman it is to you. If you don't believe that I have a right to notice this, here are the facts:

I have had three writer pics in my career. Each time a male reviewer has seen it as fair game within a review to comment on what I looked like.
1) Photo one- in which I wore a polo neck sweater and didn't smile because, understandably I was nervous, 'Readman looks like a moody teenager determined to find everything boring.'
2) I changed my photo, to one where I was still wearing my hat from coming in one December in a fur coat 'The author photo put me off...I don't like 'wacky'
3) Your good self.

As for being 'to slangy/conversational' I make no appology. This is how some people speak in the 21st century. The characters in my book do not have a vocabulary much greater than that. They feel things they may not have the words to express, this doesn't stop there being anything of worth in the poems.

'every inch he has handled will have shed itself,
fallen silent
into secret snow flakes that land
on your tongue'

Conversational? This may well be how people you know speak. Not here however.

I am not bigging myself or putting anyone down here. I am simply defending my book on these points I can see severe flaws in. If you'd just left it as saying the book wasn't your cup of tea, that's fair. But using terms like 'sexing up' and' titillation', commenting on my 'pose', really says alot more about you than me.

'Annonymous' critics

Yesterday I happened to see an extremely damning comment about my book Strip on The Guardian blog page.

The discussion was actually about Salt Publishing's 10th Birthday. I was not a participant in the discussion. The guy commenting had many things to say about Salt, poetry today, etc, etc. Many things he wanted to say without extending the courtesy of using his actual name. This is a bit of a literary hit and run. Although I was not there, a drive by somehow mortally wounded me anyway. I have nothing but respect for anyone who has opinions about literature, even when I don't agree with them, but I have more respect for people who are willing so stand up and put their name to them. (I may say things many people don't agree with, but I say them honestly and transparently.) The criticism I had is one thing, I'll deal with this shortly, but the manner in which it was delivered is the equivalent of a phone call in the middle of the night. You hear the heavy breathing, you feel your breath catch in your chest and your hands shaking, but no, you have no idea who this is. 'Asgill' on The Guardian blog also was not too enthusiastic about Luke Kennard and Salt generally, but I felt he had a go at me in particular, for no reason I can see.

From the comments posted it is clear that a man made these comments: a poet, someone political, an educated person who does work with groups 'on the outskirts'. It was not difficult to figure out this person is probably with Smokestack books (come come Mr AsGill (Arthur Scargill?) the order in which we would mention publishers we like gives away more than we may intend. Much as if I listed poetry publishers I liked I would probably always list Salt first. What we know will always slip out first.

So ASGill, who I believe to be Alan Morrison from Hove, (yes, clever as your ruse is it doesn't work too well if on a post in 2009 we signed it A.Morrison, Hove) let's not be coy. If we want to give our opinions to the big boys, poets, publishers, writers and editors like Roddy Lumsden we must be willing to use our name. As you say 'Life is too short.'

If by any chance Alan Morrison, poet from Brighton is not 'ASGill' then of course these comments don't apply to you. If you are Alan Morrison and did not comment on The Guardian blog I strongly suggest you contact The Guardian site and make a complaint about this guy using your name.

Introduction

My name is Angela Readman. I am a writer. It isn't a choice for me. I've been writing, and knew I just had to, since I was a child. Those dreams of just writing and people reading it seem very far away. The idea was much easier than the world of publishing, trying to get work out there, keeping on going. I find myself in the position of starting over, wanting to write, get my work out there and starting from the ground up. In the past I've written poetry, to do so I shelved my dream about writing short stories for a while. Now, I'm back to square one. Learning. Writing. I have no idea how to go about finding any sort of home for my work.

This blog is just that, about starting over again. I don't know what's out there.
I hope there are writers out there who can relate.

Angela