Beware the throw-away remark about poetry, because it will always pique someone's curiosity. Recently Rachel asked on the memish blogpost about blasts from the past, just how I did get into poetry, because I had remarked that at the time of first-born's birth I wasn't much of a writer, nor a poet.
Oookaaaay. So, where do I start? I'd love,of course, to be able to say that my parents were mad into poetry and instilled a great love of it in me. The truth, as they say, is stranger than fiction.
Do I start with the scribbles I used to leave behind on my blotting sheet in the Draughting course I took, circa 1989?
Do I start with the play I wrote about St. Augustine, after a story I heard in Primary 6, circa 1979?
Although I'm sure you'd love to hear those stories, sometime, the real one is about how I found my way into poetry and got really, really hooked.
It all began with a chap who became known to me as Dermo Pegleg (back in 1994). At the time, I had recently joined the Open University, completing a foundation year in IT. I was in the second year, studying Computer Programming and not enjoying it one bit. In fact, I hated it. The only thing I had done with any success was to write code for a programme to pick Lotto numbers. I was looking for excuses not to study. And so, one night I went out, to what would now be called an open mic session in a pub, hosted by DP.
There were acoustic guitar players, interspersed with short, quickfire bursts of poetry from various contributors. Most of it was, well, shite. But there was one poem that I reacted to: it was written and delivered as a sort of rebuff to a girl (and women in general) for refusing to be interested enough to continue beyond a first date. This poem annoyed me so much that I went home ranting about it, and encouraged by my then-boyfriend, I wrote a riposte, which led on into writing other poems.
I didn't write that much in those first tentative years: maybe about fifteen poems or so. I'm really grateful that most of them have disappeared or got lost, because they were utter rubbish. Really awful rubbish. As well as writing, I was getting involved my community arts scene: I got a part time job in 1997 as a Newsletter Editor for the local arts centre where I lived, which meant I got to meet those involved in writing locally and foster friendships that have endured.
I remember sending some of those early poems to The, then recently launched, Stinging Fly (circa 1997?), and receiving a rejection that said though they weren't good enough, to keep at it: keep on writing and try sending again. Alas, I wasn't confident or savvy enough to appreciate what encouragement this actually was.
In the meantime, I read things that were recommended to me. Books about poetry. Books of poetry. Books about anything but poetry. Books like novels and books of non-fiction. I was a starved garden of weeds: books were my fertiliser, pens and paper my digging tools, language my seedbed.
In time (after producing two more children) I met my current partner (and produced three more, bringing my troop to six), I thought I should start into learning more about some of these poets and writers I had read about. I re-joined the Open University (2003) and decided to do a BA in Literature. I wrote more poems, fed by all the newly-acquired knowledge and old knowledge I had. I But I grew, and I learned to see the faults in all the stuff I had written, as well as what was salvagable. I still wanted to write poems and write them well as well as I could.
So, now I wrote and honed poems for real. I tried out forms, like sonnets or quatrains. I played with rhythm and enjoyed playing with words, just for the sake of it. I started sending out some of these later efforts. I got lucky in a journal in the States, after sending a good many submissions. One strike led to a few more, which in turn led to applying for Poetry Ireland 'Introductions' series. I got in second time around, in 2005. A whole pile of credits accumulated and I thought about submitting to a publisher. I sent out query letters to the four corners of Ireland, and one replying positively. I sent them a MS and I can still remember getting a phone call six months later, saying 'Yes, we'd love to publish it next year.'
After completing a BA in Literature, in September 2007, I started straight into an MA in Creative Writing in Queen's University, Belfast. I literally posted the last End of Course Assessment for my OU degree on the Friday and began the MA course on the following Monday in Belfast. I remember meeting the poets and writers on the first day of term and feeling like a fraud - so many there with awards and publication credits under their belt. Surely they would see through me, despite the fact that my first collection had just been published.
Across that wonderful year (07-08) I learned to trust what I knew. I learned to trust myself and to trust my work. My first collection sold very well. I learned to trust the truth of the people at readings across Ireland, in Scotland and in the UK buying the book and enthusing about it. I learned that I was also a good teacher: people trusted what I had to say about writing and poetry and I learned the thrill of seeing talent walk into my creative writing classes and watching them develop their confidence and skills.
All of this happened, because I mitched off studying computer programming and got angry with a man who wrote something I disagreed with! So now you know part of the story.
Showing posts with label writers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writers. Show all posts
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Monday, September 29, 2008
Castle Chester
Isn't that a grand sounding name? That's where I spent Saturday night, chewing the writerly fat with a friend, and two new roomies that have moved into the Castle with her.
My friend is doing the MA at QUB that I've just finished; except in fiction, and one of her roomies is also doing the MA; except in poetry. My word, but her work is magnificent. She's a relatively young Canadian poet and I got to see a sample of her work. I have a feeling that the world will be seeing a lot more of Maureen Evans before long.
There's a really interesting walk along the beach front in Whitehead that takes you towards a light house. The lighthouse is located at the top of a crumbling cliff, and the walkway is designed in steps and bumps that go up and down and around and back. It would be a real treasure for my kids to investigate, that's for sure. Apparently people come from all around to enjoy this unusual walk that incorporates a good deal of cardio-vascular activity as well as spectacular nature, seascapes and bird watching.
My friend is doing the MA at QUB that I've just finished; except in fiction, and one of her roomies is also doing the MA; except in poetry. My word, but her work is magnificent. She's a relatively young Canadian poet and I got to see a sample of her work. I have a feeling that the world will be seeing a lot more of Maureen Evans before long.
There's a really interesting walk along the beach front in Whitehead that takes you towards a light house. The lighthouse is located at the top of a crumbling cliff, and the walkway is designed in steps and bumps that go up and down and around and back. It would be a real treasure for my kids to investigate, that's for sure. Apparently people come from all around to enjoy this unusual walk that incorporates a good deal of cardio-vascular activity as well as spectacular nature, seascapes and bird watching.
Monday, June 23, 2008
You hate that book - but why?
There's a veritable feast of critic's names featuring in this article in yesterday's Sunday Times. They were asked what their most hated book was and why. The answers are interesting in that they highlight the usual considerations: good or bad writing, style and length, and genuine entertainment; as well as more personal ones.
For example, Bryan Appleyard isn't that keen on Henry James' 'The Awkward Age,' saying that although the behemoth of critics, F.R. Leavis might have loved it, it didn't mean that he had to and besides, 'Leavis was mad.' Good on ya, Brian, I often thought that meself.
I remember reading 'The Portrait of a Lady,' or rather wading through all the accumulated clauses, sub-clauses and gluts of psychological description and wondering if I was ever going to get to the end of it. Mind you, there was a good reason for me having to wade through it: it was part of my 19thc literature course.
Funny thing was, by the end of the course and the book, I had learned to love it - the slowness, the deliberation and the really rounded characters (plus I sped-read past the boring bits). The 19thc is a foreign land to us here in the 21stc - they did things differently then and probably didn't have a remote control to flip between things when they got bored. They even did bored differently. They called it 'ennui.'
So, I'm sure there must be books that you detest - why don't you tell me what they are, and why!
For example, Bryan Appleyard isn't that keen on Henry James' 'The Awkward Age,' saying that although the behemoth of critics, F.R. Leavis might have loved it, it didn't mean that he had to and besides, 'Leavis was mad.' Good on ya, Brian, I often thought that meself.
I remember reading 'The Portrait of a Lady,' or rather wading through all the accumulated clauses, sub-clauses and gluts of psychological description and wondering if I was ever going to get to the end of it. Mind you, there was a good reason for me having to wade through it: it was part of my 19thc literature course.
Funny thing was, by the end of the course and the book, I had learned to love it - the slowness, the deliberation and the really rounded characters (plus I sped-read past the boring bits). The 19thc is a foreign land to us here in the 21stc - they did things differently then and probably didn't have a remote control to flip between things when they got bored. They even did bored differently. They called it 'ennui.'
So, I'm sure there must be books that you detest - why don't you tell me what they are, and why!
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
The Joys of...
..writing! O, but spring has sprung here, even if it is cold and I am enjoying my return to college: full as this year's semester is going to be.
On Wednesdays, I attend a class on Life Writing, facilitated by the bould Ian Sansom. I have come across his writing in The Dublin Review (great round-up of the great and good in Irish (and beyond) writing) and The Yellow Nib (journal of the Queen's Seamus Heaney Centre). I believe he also writes for the Guardian (of a Saturday) and he organised a poetry appreciation class last semester, which alas I was unable to attend. You might get a flavour for his writing here, on his well-organised, informative and amusing website.
Yes, I'm gushing, aren't I? It's hard not to gush when you've attended one of Ian's classes: the sheer energy of his delivery; his enthusiasm for books and book recommendations; the simplicity with which he sets sparks blazing in you and the good sound advice he gives on the subject of writing alone, have been worth the fees for the MA alone (not to mention Sinead Morrissey, Medbh McGuckian, Daragh Carville - but enough name-dropping already!).
So, the subject is Life Writing, and the various forms thereof: biographical; essays - whatever you want to explore - it's all there. And the reading list alone is throwing up some wonderful books that I'd never come across: Jack Barzun's Simple and Direct: A Rhetoric for Writers is a lucid example. This book will serve either the beginner writer, or the writer who's ready for a brush-up. It's full of great examples of how not to write and contains exercises for helping you re-appraise how you use your words.
Last week's opening salvo was a twenty point 'Things Writers ought to Know:' otherwise billed as an undergraduate's course in Creative Writing Techniques. Now, I know that some might say that that is terribly reductive - but there is a sense in having it all there; simple and direct, I guess. That's just fifteen minutes from the class!
Anyway. I must go and do my homework while I still have some finger-stumps left to work with: An Essay of 1000 words on a subject from a list I made earlier of 'Things That I Would Like to Write About Before I Die.' When you look at it like that you really don't want to mess about in what's left of your writing career, do you?
On Wednesdays, I attend a class on Life Writing, facilitated by the bould Ian Sansom. I have come across his writing in The Dublin Review (great round-up of the great and good in Irish (and beyond) writing) and The Yellow Nib (journal of the Queen's Seamus Heaney Centre). I believe he also writes for the Guardian (of a Saturday) and he organised a poetry appreciation class last semester, which alas I was unable to attend. You might get a flavour for his writing here, on his well-organised, informative and amusing website.
Yes, I'm gushing, aren't I? It's hard not to gush when you've attended one of Ian's classes: the sheer energy of his delivery; his enthusiasm for books and book recommendations; the simplicity with which he sets sparks blazing in you and the good sound advice he gives on the subject of writing alone, have been worth the fees for the MA alone (not to mention Sinead Morrissey, Medbh McGuckian, Daragh Carville - but enough name-dropping already!).
So, the subject is Life Writing, and the various forms thereof: biographical; essays - whatever you want to explore - it's all there. And the reading list alone is throwing up some wonderful books that I'd never come across: Jack Barzun's Simple and Direct: A Rhetoric for Writers is a lucid example. This book will serve either the beginner writer, or the writer who's ready for a brush-up. It's full of great examples of how not to write and contains exercises for helping you re-appraise how you use your words.
Last week's opening salvo was a twenty point 'Things Writers ought to Know:' otherwise billed as an undergraduate's course in Creative Writing Techniques. Now, I know that some might say that that is terribly reductive - but there is a sense in having it all there; simple and direct, I guess. That's just fifteen minutes from the class!
Anyway. I must go and do my homework while I still have some finger-stumps left to work with: An Essay of 1000 words on a subject from a list I made earlier of 'Things That I Would Like to Write About Before I Die.' When you look at it like that you really don't want to mess about in what's left of your writing career, do you?
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Creative Writing Classes
Today, I began facilitating the first of a series of eight Creative Writing classes. I must admit that I felt like I fell into the whole thing by accident. I didn't allow myself to believe that they were going to happen, because I thought that no-one would come. Imagine my pleasure and surprise to read about them in the local paper (once again) and then be told yesterday that the classes were actually over-subscribed by participants!
So today we set off down the writing road, beginning at the beginning - with basic CW techniques of clustering and freewriting, to free up the mind and imagination and then ending with homework of creating a character and then 'taking them for a walk.' Next week we'll get stuck into critiquing techniques and how to improve writing through criticism.
It's fantastic to be at the other end of a period of learning, where I'm now translating all the learning into facilitating other people's writing development. There were times when I was in the midst of the Literature degree, when I wondered what the hell I was doing it for.
How I smiled inwardly today as a class participant advocated for a plot first, character second, type of approach. Rather than get tied in knots, I cited Henry James as an example of an author with a character in search of a novel: The Portrait of a Lady, as opposed to an author with a novel plot in search of characters: Wilkie Collins and The Woman in White. It brought back many memories of the same conversation on the OU conferences and I must say that it is nice to know now, what all that study and endless essay writing was for. Ginnie Woolf - eat your heart out :)
So today we set off down the writing road, beginning at the beginning - with basic CW techniques of clustering and freewriting, to free up the mind and imagination and then ending with homework of creating a character and then 'taking them for a walk.' Next week we'll get stuck into critiquing techniques and how to improve writing through criticism.
It's fantastic to be at the other end of a period of learning, where I'm now translating all the learning into facilitating other people's writing development. There were times when I was in the midst of the Literature degree, when I wondered what the hell I was doing it for.
How I smiled inwardly today as a class participant advocated for a plot first, character second, type of approach. Rather than get tied in knots, I cited Henry James as an example of an author with a character in search of a novel: The Portrait of a Lady, as opposed to an author with a novel plot in search of characters: Wilkie Collins and The Woman in White. It brought back many memories of the same conversation on the OU conferences and I must say that it is nice to know now, what all that study and endless essay writing was for. Ginnie Woolf - eat your heart out :)
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Good news and Bad news
When someone tells me there is good news and bad news, I always ask for the bad news first; you know, to get it out of the way so that the good news comes as a reward. But I've invariably found that the bad news is usually dependent on the good news: like the good news is that you've won a million pounds - the bad news is that you've lost the ticket...
Anyway, the good news is that I've been asked to facilitate a group of writers across the autumn with an eight week session of writing workshops. Sounds good, eh? Doing a job that I really want to do - teaching writing. Even the very sound of it - well, goodness me!
The bad news is that we'll have to wait and see how many people will respond to the advertisement in the local paper!?! I really hope lots of people see it and want to give it a go.
Fingers, toes, arms, legs and everything else crossed :S
Anyway, the good news is that I've been asked to facilitate a group of writers across the autumn with an eight week session of writing workshops. Sounds good, eh? Doing a job that I really want to do - teaching writing. Even the very sound of it - well, goodness me!
The bad news is that we'll have to wait and see how many people will respond to the advertisement in the local paper!?! I really hope lots of people see it and want to give it a go.
Fingers, toes, arms, legs and everything else crossed :S
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
A Happy New Year to all!
It's almost a year since I began blogging as one of my New Year Resolutions last year. Strange to think that I began it as a record of my giving up smoking. The blogging lasted longer though!
This last few days have been ones of appraisal and wondering about what to do this year. I'm researching whether a university in Belfast will take me in this autumn to do a Masters, or whether I'll have to wait until the honours component is completely sewn up and the degree awarded in full - which would take until April twelvemonth. Decisions, decisions!
In the meantime, there is the delicious news that a submission I made in November has been taken for an Irish journal, Revival born out of a weekly reading series in Limerick. Thanks to a lot of hard work and courage, this series has grown from strength to strength, over three years and features the best that Irish poetry has to offer in a live setting.
It just goes to show you what can happen if you stick around long enough, whether on a small scale, as in blogging, or in having courage and belief in something wider.
I think the same could be said about a lot of bloggers out there too - I'm thinking of skint, Inner Minx, Apprentice, BB Rob MacKenzie, Chief Biscuit, Debi Alper, Hedgie, Julie Carter, Dick Jones, Eloise, Shameless, and probably so many more other bloggers that I haven't thought of, that have all demonstrated the ease and talent of their writing.
I wish everyone a Happy New Year, and to be one step closer to their writing heart's desire.
This last few days have been ones of appraisal and wondering about what to do this year. I'm researching whether a university in Belfast will take me in this autumn to do a Masters, or whether I'll have to wait until the honours component is completely sewn up and the degree awarded in full - which would take until April twelvemonth. Decisions, decisions!
In the meantime, there is the delicious news that a submission I made in November has been taken for an Irish journal, Revival born out of a weekly reading series in Limerick. Thanks to a lot of hard work and courage, this series has grown from strength to strength, over three years and features the best that Irish poetry has to offer in a live setting.
It just goes to show you what can happen if you stick around long enough, whether on a small scale, as in blogging, or in having courage and belief in something wider.
I think the same could be said about a lot of bloggers out there too - I'm thinking of skint, Inner Minx, Apprentice, BB Rob MacKenzie, Chief Biscuit, Debi Alper, Hedgie, Julie Carter, Dick Jones, Eloise, Shameless, and probably so many more other bloggers that I haven't thought of, that have all demonstrated the ease and talent of their writing.
I wish everyone a Happy New Year, and to be one step closer to their writing heart's desire.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Over the River and Back again
Well - that was an interesting, if action packed weekend! I only wish I had more time to spend over there. Minx' second launch went very well for her first novel, The Coven of One, and there was great support from other authors and bloggers. The best bit, was the blogger, enthusiam, who had just read about it that evening and hopped on a bus and arrived!
It was great to put faces to some the blogs I have been inhabiting this last while. Hi skint! And Debi, and the Minx herself! And of course I bought lots of lovely books, to support the authors who guested at the evening.
The venue itself, The Crow on the Hill, is a wonderful example of a really interesting independent bookshop, run by people who know their books and know people. It's always a good sign when you keep on seeing books that you know you'd like to read... The only teeny tiny complaint I'd have was about the Fantasy section, which didn't include any Guy Gavriel Kay
The other really good thing about Saturday, was meeting up with a fellow OU colleague and talking nothing but literary/study/books/film/art stuff non-stop for about 4/5 (possibly longer) hours, whilst driving, shopping and eating (lovely, lovely Italian restaurant) in South London and then dragging said colleague off to the Coven launch that evening, when I realised I was running late! THANKS!
A really big thank you to Debi Alper and her family for the bed for the night - my only regret is not having longer to spend over there. What lovely people!
Oh, and I seem to have beta now...! *scratches head*
It was great to put faces to some the blogs I have been inhabiting this last while. Hi skint! And Debi, and the Minx herself! And of course I bought lots of lovely books, to support the authors who guested at the evening.
The venue itself, The Crow on the Hill, is a wonderful example of a really interesting independent bookshop, run by people who know their books and know people. It's always a good sign when you keep on seeing books that you know you'd like to read... The only teeny tiny complaint I'd have was about the Fantasy section, which didn't include any Guy Gavriel Kay
The other really good thing about Saturday, was meeting up with a fellow OU colleague and talking nothing but literary/study/books/film/art stuff non-stop for about 4/5 (possibly longer) hours, whilst driving, shopping and eating (lovely, lovely Italian restaurant) in South London and then dragging said colleague off to the Coven launch that evening, when I realised I was running late! THANKS!
A really big thank you to Debi Alper and her family for the bed for the night - my only regret is not having longer to spend over there. What lovely people!
Oh, and I seem to have beta now...! *scratches head*
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