The Next Big Thing

New year and new things to do. I was tagged by Matt Merritt to answer the following questions. The questions were devised by Sophie Mayer and the idea is that poets answer them and tag other poets to do the same. The project is called 'The Next Big Thing.' This morning I am very bleary eyed, but luckily for me I answered these questions on Sunday. Ah the joys of cut and paste! 'Tagged' poets put the questions and answers on their blog and then nominate poets for the following week. Please read on...

Where did the idea for the book come from?


I didn’t approach the book with a particular ‘idea’ or ‘concept’ in mind. It was only when I came up with the title that the book felt more cohesive. The title is ‘Melanchrini’ which is a Greek word for dark featured and dark-haired. It’s a very common nickname. I needed something which would hold the book together, even if it wasn’t an easy word for audiences. Perhaps the collection is mainly based on memoir, but with some flights of fancy. I have some friends who would like to know the facts from the fiction, but I think poems should have their own sense of truth.
What genre does your book fall in?

Poetry, unless you’re a rather harsh critic.

What actors would you choose to play the part of your characters in a movie rendition?

Hmmm. The main character would be played by the love child of Louise Brooks and Kathy Burke under the acting tutelage of Bette Davis. The film would probably have the Mise-en-scène of an early 60s kitchen sinker, but with modern splashes. Rita Tushingham would be wandering around in the background like a monochrome ghost. The poet Philip Larkin would make a cameo role in the ‘Larkin’ poem. The Greek actress Irini Papas would play the role of Thea; she has the face for her I think. I’d like Stephen Poliakoff to direct and Scarlett Johansen to make the tea.
What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

This book is about being at once modern and out of time; present and vague; a native and a foreigner and everything within these poems is underpinned by a personal sense of history.

How long did it take to write the first draft of the manuscript?

The poems were written over a span of roughly two years. I didn’t realise I was writing a manuscript, as far as I was concerned I was writing individual poems. The book was published in July 2012. I started initial drafts in the summer of 2011. However I was still writing new poems for the book alongside this. The first ‘official’ draft was completed in December 2011. There were at least 4 or 5 drafts between then and May 2012. Some poems needed tweaking, while others were completely altered. Some were consigned to the big paper basket in the sky.


Who or what inspired you to write this book?

The birth of my twin daughters. When I was pregnant I suffered from Pre-eclampsia, a rather serious medical condition. I was in hospital for months and was very closely monitored. When the twins were born and we settled into a less traumatic but very busy routine I found myself being drawn back to writing, poetry in particular. I had one of those ‘life is short’ moments. I would pick up a book and read a poem in between feeds.My priorities felt very different.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

I’d like people to read these poems and feel they could relate to them. The poems are set in familiar territory, but with a surreal take on life.

Is your book self-published or represented by an agency?

Neither. I don’t think many poets are represented by agents. My book is published by Nine Arches Press. Matt and Jane had heard me read at various Open Mic events in Leicester and Nottingham and approached me with the offer of publication. I’ve been very lucky. My publishers are very supportive and given me some great opportunities for public readings.

My poets to tag are:   Nottinghamshire poet and publisher Alan Baker on Litterbug. Leicestershire poet and lecturer Pam Thompson on Heckle Poet and Canal Laureate Jo Bell on The Bell Jar

'I Don't Call Myself a Poet'

This fascinating site was brought to my attention by Wayne Burrows the other day. A project run by Sophie Mayer. It's a simple idea, students are assigned a contemporary poet, they have to familiarise themselves with that person's work and then interview them. The interviews are fascinating and many of the poets interviewed are refreshingly frank and honest about the way they view themselves as a writer of poetry. This includes an impressive list of 68 writers with more to come. It's the honesty which really appealed to me, especially on the subject of publication, rejection and how writers keep writing. Jane Holland made me laugh out loud when she put it down to 'stupidity and egotism,' however, what becomes clear is that poets become poets because they can't actually stop themselves, not simply because of the kudos of awards and publication. They lap up other poets' work, they see value in a variety of different voices; poets writing at different times, in different languages, different styles and concerns. It becomes a labour of love, I once read Rilke's 'Advice to a Young Poet,' which I think would be relevant to an older poet, a middle-aged poet, someone starting out and someone carrying on. You might be getting my hint. Thanks to the wonders of the Internet I am at liberty to copy and paste this:

You ask whether your verses are good. You ask me. You have already asked others. You send them to journals. You compare them with other poems, and are upset when certain editorial offices reject your efforts. Now (since you’ve permitted me to give you advice) I ask you to abandon all this. You look outside yourself, and that above all else is something you should not do just now. Nobody can advise you and help you, nobody. There’s only one way to proceed. Go inside yourself. Explore the reason that compels you to write; test whether it stretches its roots into the deepest part of your heart, admit to yourself whether you would have to die if the opportunity to write were withheld from you. Above all else, ask yourself at your most silent hour of night: must I write? Dig inside yourself for a deep answer. And if the answer is yes, if it is possible for you to respond to this serious question with a strong and simple I must, then build your life on the basis of this necessity; your life, even at its most indifferent and attenuated, must become a sign and a witness for this compulsion.

On being asked 'What made you become a poet?' Carrie Etter replies in her interview:  'I never felt as though there were a decision or a choice.' Which sums up what Rilke says above. You do it because you have to. I regret having my 'nearly decade off' writing poetry in my 20s, because I decided to let other people get on with, I was going to get on with other things. It didn't work forever, I went back to it because I couldn't stop myself.

Many of the poets discuss the issue of 'truth' in poetry and I liked Maitreyabandhu's response. Incidentally, Maitreyabandhu is the writer of one of my favourite poetry essays, 'The Provenance of Pleasure,' which appeared in the Spring 2011 edition of Poetry Review. We forget that writing itself is a pleasure when we are bogged down with rejections, there is a higher pleasure, perhaps even a spiritual pleasure in the act of writing, but that's another blog post. Anyway, here's the quote:

The way to avoid sentimentality in poetry is to work hard at telling the truth. At the same time, we shouldn’t be so afraid of sentimentality that it stops us expressing any emotion in poetry at all!

My friend Roy Marshall, whom as you know is an exceptional poet, is very good at this. I sometimes wonder that there is an danger in being too clinical with a poem, as well as over-sentimental. Is good poetry more like a paper-cut? In terms of getting 'jolted' into understanding, even if you will never, ever go through the same experience as the person who wrote the poem you are reading.

I could go on, I really could. But I will stop here for the morning as my twins are doing half-days at school and I have not hung out any washing yet. At least I will have something to think about when I am pegging things on the line.

The site of course is here.