This weeks work.

it seems a long time since I last wrote yet it isn't actually too long. I have had many things to sort out prior to going into hospital for a knee replacement. I have no idea how well I shall be able to walk after the op. I assume walking with a stick will come first. It's a bit awkward trying to organise a fundraiser for Children In Need with the hospital visit falling right in the middle of me returning from holiday and the event itself. Still, I digress. I have had seven lovely kind poets offer their time and talent for the said afternoon and I shall read too, even if its from a wheelchair. I'm hoping it will be a good event. It's something I planned to do over the years but has always coincided with me being ill or having surgery. Maybe this will be the year! I have also tried to drum up some publicity and contacted newspapers, TV and Radio. No response yet though.

Besides all this I have brought back eight poems from my holiday in Wales and have been working on those. I have written a couple more chapters of my crime novel and entered a few competitions. This week I have four medical appointments so I'm fitting work in where I can. I was pleased to have a poem accepted last week but that was followed by two rejections. The balance is about right.
I have added the details of the Children In Need event below for those who might be interested

a lapse of memory.

I was so busy yesterday describing the tent and the event that I forgot to put my winning poem on the blog. Here it is:





Tideline.

I am at the feet of the dunes. Buffeted by a breeze
with feet blued by the lap and chuckle of an Welsh tide.
Rocks, pebbles, grit, and sand. Place strata of textures
for my seeking toes and the waters lacy edge deposits items
for my choosing. Gentled from the cupped palm of a wave.
Bladder wracks’ fat air-sacs bulge as it entwines
with glistening ribbons of seaweed. They glimmer sharp
as a diesel-spill rainbow. Razor-shells gleam, shiny
with pink nacre To lie like pooh-sticks on the sand.
Scallops scatter. Spilt coins from a Pirates purse.
Washed by the wave’s salty fingers. Hemmed in
by the conical swirls of worm-casts. Bejewelled
by the last bubbles of the creatures departure.
Even mans’ discarded items become the sea’s own.
They are faded. Eroded. Changed by briny abrasion.
All are softly rounded, Polished smooth with sharp edges
stroked into sinuous curves. The tide-line draws me on.
Each step shows more as I meander slow and wind-blown
along the water’s edge.

A Night in the Speigeltent.

Last nights Gloucester writers Network event was full of surprises for me. Firstly, the tent was a fabulous confection of architectural styles. A sort of melange of Burlesque, Rococo, Baroque and Fairground. I kept expecting a carousel of horses to rise slowly from the floor and rotate around us.The cupola was edged with coloured windows, the supporting beams were clad in moulded cherubs, people and various plant forms and the main roof was alternating great swags of green and dark red velvety fabric. The walls sported decorative mirrors, more mouldings in the shape of swags of foliage and every wall panel was coloured and decorated. It was all very opulent and there was a bar, just to make it even more civilised. The second surprise was how well attended the event was. Most of the tables and chairs were full and believe me it was a large venue. I saw many old friends and the atmosphere was very comfortable. I enjoyed the readings very much. The stories and poems were interesting, thought provoking, poignant and sometimes funny. All emotions were catered for. I also loved having a proper sound system for vocal clarity. I haven't been on a stage with foldback since I was a percussionist years ago. Thank you sound man, for getting the balance right. Rona Laycock organiser(and editor of Graffiti Magazine) did a sterling job of organising us readers and of being MC for the night. Finally, although I knew that I had won the poetry section of this competition (though not until a few errors in communication were sorted out) I didn't know that there was a trophy that I am to keep for a year or that there was a cash prize. I was delighted then, to go home feeling proud that I had won and hadn't fluffed my words and carrying the beautiful Poets Hare trophy and fifty quid in my purse. The Hare is sitting on my desk for inspiration and I am very tired. The only thing I didn't like, from a purely personal point of view, was that the step up to the stage was too high. My arthritic knees would't allow me to scale the step so I had to ask for help. Not something I like doing. Thankfully, Guy,who was also reading,was there to help me up. Thanks Guy and your story was brilliant. I loved it. So. A good night all round. I wonder what next years theme will be?

GWN Poetry Competition winners event.

Some of the best writers in Gloucestershire will be presenting their work at the Cheltenham Literature Festival
7.30pm Tuesday 11 October 2011.
The Spiegeltent, Montpellier Gardens, Cheltenham.




Tickets (£6) are available through the Festival Box Office – 01242 505444
or via the website
www.cheltenhamfestivals.com/literature








Some of the best writers in Gloucestershire will be presenting their work at the Cheltenham Literature Festival
7.30pm Tuesday 11 October 2011.
The Spiegeltent, Montpellier Gardens, Cheltenham.




Tickets (£6) are available through the Festival Box Office – 01242 505444
or via the website
www.cheltenhamfestivals.com/literature

Acceptances and a hard nights work.

After coming home to three rejections last week I was cheered up yesterday by Friction Magazine accepting two of my poems. I am glad when circumstances redress the balance of effort put in.
Last night I was working on my first and probably only, novel. It was very difficult. It's a crime thriller and has heroes and villains. I was working on a scene that established the evil nature of one villain. I was writing a scene where was being violent towards the heroine. I dug deep into my own and anecdotal experiences. I found myself getting quite stressed by it. I abhor violence, especially mindless, cruel violence. Putting myself inside the head of someone who was prepared to attack and murder was quite traumatic. I hadn't expected it to be so visceral. I also didn't want the violence to be gratuitous or extreme, yet I did want the scene to be darkly atmospheric and believable. I finally finished the scene at god knows what time this morning feeling wrung out. I haven't read it back yet. I shall leave a couple of days and then see how it looks.

Also this week. I'm looking forward to reading my poem at the GWN event at the Cheltenham Lit. Fest. Hope you can be there.

A welcome back. Not.

On my computer when I got back from a lovely holiday. Three rejections in my emails. Two from poetry submissions and one short story submitted to a memoir magazine. thankfully they were all pleasant and polite. At the end of the year I usually tot up how many submissions I have sent out plus the number of rejections/acceptances I have received It's amazing how many places reject as opposed to accepting work.Many places don't even acknowledge that your work ever got to them. It's not nice to be left hanging on for an indefinite period of time but I suppose its the weight of work they have. Comparing editors comments is interesting too (that is if they make any). The more of them you read the more you realize that that they accept or decline work based on personal preference. All we can do is keep submitting. I'm looking forward to Buzzwords tonight. I have a few new poems which I aired at Poetry Cafe just before my holiday. I might use these again simply because I am still tired and don't feel like preparing anything else today..