Faceless followers… and Facebook folly!

As all those other faceless writers out there in the wide world know, writing is pretty much a solitary craft. I’m talking about the craft here, not the promotion that comes after – the part of the work when the ideas stream out of your head onto a notebook or a computer keyboard. Where you write, how much you write, whether you do it to music or not is irrelevant; the process is an isolated one. You have to get that draft out before you can work on it. Whenever my young writers turn up at my office first thing in the morning, saying, ‘Miss, I have this great idea for a story, it came to me in a dream last night’, I always say to them not to tell me about it, but to get it down on paper. An idea in someone’s head is no good. A draft on paper can be taken in a direction.

The faceless writer... Leilanie Stewart as a blank slate

The faceless writer… Leilanie Stewart as a blank slate

And as for the extroverted side of the craft; the side that deals with publishers, editors, submissions, promotion and readers, this is where the writer turns agent. Until recently, I was using Facebook primarily as a promotional tool for my work. Out of 169 ‘friends’, less than 10 were interested in my writing. Of these 10, at least 7 were themselves writers, artists, editors, or avid readers. A writer considers their work to be their ‘baby’. My writing is my brainchild – when a person likes my writing, it’s not just professional it’s personal. Easy to sum up: 10 Facebook friends supported me professionally, 159 didn’t care personally. Conclusion: Facebook was a promotional waste of my time.

WordPress on the other hand is professional, so this last little bit is a happy note to my followers. All of you are artists, writers, editors, photographers or bloggers. Out of the 60-something of you (which is a small number compared with 169), I have met 1 of you in the ‘real’ world. That must mean you stop by my blog because you like my work. I’d rather have 60+ followers who like my work than 169 – 10 = 159 followers who don’t support me professionally or otherwise. Thanks for following my writing, readers! I do stop by your blogs to check out the work of all my fellow writers in turn!

June poetry in The Blue Hour

Has it really been a month? It seems like I was writing my ‘poetry this month’ about my publications in Boy Slut Magazine only the other day, but as it happens, that was 4 weeks ago!

Three of my poems are out in The Blue Hour this month. This lot are quite detached and dreamlike. Hold on a minute… my poems are always quite detached and dreamlike. A little bit of Greek mythology thrown in there somewhere? Oh well, I have an excuse, I was an archaeologist once upon a time in a land far, far away. And did I say detached? Only my head, that is. I’ve either had too much caffeine, or not enough.

Now that we’ve cleared that up, what a month! Is it just me, or do publishing schedules seem to come in waves? A few places I’ve looked into for submitting purposes are closed for their reading periods at the mo. I guess a lot of editors/ writers work in schools. Summer is the best time to get writing. As much as the papers always complain about working in education, at least the long holidays are a good time to knuckle down on one’s own projects. And of course, if you put all your eggs in different baskets, you never know how many will hatch – and into what. Personally I’d rather have an object that looks like an egg but is actually a lump of dalmatiner jasper. It might look spotty and it might be weird, but it sure lasts a long time.

An egg of every colour - don't put them all in one basket!

An egg of every colour – don’t put them all in one basket!

Transition anthology by my creative writing youngsters

Last week, my youngest group of creative writers finished producing their own anthology of poetry on the theme of transition. The move from primary school to secondary school is a rough old time for any kid and for our group, a prime opportunity to reflect on the changes: coming to a bigger school, dealing with new subjects and teachers, making new friends, contending with older and scarier students around school… a literary goldmine for my young writers!

Transition anthology

Transition anthology

Speaking of reflecting, out of all the different creative writing groups I run (11-12 year olds, 14-15 year olds and 17-18) it’s interesting to note that the younger the child, the braver he or she tends to be! My Year 7 kids are willing to read their poetry in front of an audience without being shy, or succumbing to peer pressure or awkwardness of any kind – it’s kind of like, ‘yeah, Miss, I’ll do it!’ That’s the attitude I like to see! This week, I’ll be taking four of them on a visit to a primary school to read their poems to an audience of up to 100 Year 6 pupils and their teachers, and show the younger kids the kind of creative writing opportunities they’ll be able to take part in when they come to secondary school.

A‘salt’ on our senses

Academic writing courses – stifling the creative community, or a way for generation-X to find its niche in an ever changing literary world and depressing economic climate? Before I a’salt’ you all with my opinion on this, let me give my disclaimer about how I’m only 10% hypocrite, 20% preachy and 70% corrupter of the young (Socrates, I would catch you if I could). First of all, by day (and by paycheck) I run a creative writing workshop for teenagers among other pursuits. Do I teach creative writing in my workshop? No. I harbour the belief that creative writing is a combo of a few things: talent+hardwork+perserverence+an open-minded attitude (criticism should help an artist develop their skills, not be used as an excuse to damage egos!) What I do do in my creative writing workshop is give teenagers the opportunity to develop their style, find their voice in an environment where they can feel safe to share their work, edit their writing, explore POV and characterisation (in terms of fiction) and try out new styles of poetry (last week they played with alliteration, this time we might write some fun, little, school-themed clerihew to indulge their childish sides).

This week, I read an anthology of up and coming younger poets, and a few things struck me about it. First of all, surprise – I didn’t realise that at 32, I’m considered part of this generation of ‘young’ poets. Secondly, given I had an expectation of a new approach to an age-old art form, I found the verse to be a disappointment, summed up by one word: bland. Poetry should make a statement, throw an insult, do something…anything! Academia, cronyism, nepotism… anyone with £££ can pay to do a writing course. Do the postgraduate connections into the publishing world necessarily mean the work has any literary merit? Nope! I reckon the best writing out there comes from only one university in the whole wide world… a BA in Creative Writing from The School of Life Experience. As for me? I have an MPhil in Writeology and a PHD in Writeonomy. Check out my portfolio (of sorts) for details of my full poetic license. In the mean time, try this on for size:

Woodlice hate salt! As a woodlouse myself, I like to throw it over my left shoulder to blind the devil

Woodlice hate salt! As a woodlouse myself, I like to throw it over my left shoulder to blind the devil

Two poems in Boyslut

This month my poems, ‘Amnesia’ and ‘English Litter-ature’ are in Boyslut. After all my fiction publications lately, I felt I’d get some more of my poetry out in the world. As all poets know, what happens if a poem gets stuck in your head for too long? Watch scanners and see.

First things first when you check out Boyslut – the woman in the cover picture isn’t me! She’s librarian-saucy, I’m more the tomato-ketchup kind of saucy: a bit sugary, a bit tangy and definitely red.

Gnome or misnomer?!

Gnome or misnomer?!

As for the poems, a little word-play here and there, with a lot of salt and flour and an egg or two thrown into the mix and what do you get? A wacky-pancake for breakfast. Enjoy!

Poetry and plagiarism, oh boys a dear!

Big news in the poetry world this week… the big ‘P’. Not publishing, but plagiarism! Wow. Guess the news in The Guardian gives perspective to all us ‘real’ poets out there. Why does a poet bother writing verse in the first place? For those who consider themselves professional, it is simply to share with the world an art form that is subjective to the author, with the purpose of ‘getting it out there’, often for little or no profit. Imagine then, that a poet comes along making it into the spotlight, winning National competitions here and there and appearing on TV. What do the rest of us think? Great – they’re doing their part to promote poetry, and even better when we realise that the poet in question has a day job as a teacher. Course, as the headlines show, this is all the stuff of smoke and mirrors. The verse has been ripped off from hardworking poets, who suffer insult on top of injury when their work is not only plagiarised, but carried far along the pound-lined Primrose path by an individual who has lost their moral compass.

For the love of literature!

For the love of literature!

So who gets hurt? I feel bad for all those genuine poets out there who have creativity and imagination and are talented and hardworking. I feel for the publishers who are now having to withdraw sales of their magazines, anthologies and books, at great cost to themselves. But most of all, I feel for the school children. What kind of message does that send to our youth? Go ahead and rip off copyrighted work, kids, and see how long you can get off Scot-free… grr! As a project leader of a creative writing group myself, I guess I feel strongly about this the most. Maybe I’m more idealistic than I thought!

Joseph Robert’s latest poems

Three more of Joseph Robert’s poems are out today in Pyrokinection. Pyrokinection publishes poetry ‘where words come to burn’, one of a series of zines published by Kind of a Hurricane Press. Speaking of burning…

Photograph by Joseph Robert

Photograph by Joseph Robert

Looks like a halo? Wrong. More of a sunspot. Pyromaniacs, get your magnifying glasses at the ready.

While you’re having a read at Pyrokinection, check out another Joseph on the site… ‘Makeup’ by Joseph Ek. Joseph Ek is an ‘eck of a poet who left a (lipstick) mark on my mind for sure 🙂

The Fossil Wars in Linguistic Erosion

My (admitedly!) weirdest piece of prose to date, The Fossil Wars, is out today in Linguistic Erosion. This one came from a part of my frontal lobe that was perhaps skewered with a red hot poker… in fact, I think I might have been lobotomised in the process! Nothing better than a good old read of pathetic-fallacy-on-steroids for a dash of weekend fun.

Shells galore... 'Pisces'

Shells galore… ‘Pisces’

Joseph Robert – A poem in The Commonline Journal

Joseph Robert’s latest poem, Worry Play, is out in The Commonline Journal this week. When I first read this one of my writer hubby’s poems, it made me think of a documentary I’d seen years ago about James Maybrick’s pocket watch and the Jack the Ripper conspiracy. Like the editor said to Joseph, when she accepted this one for publication, it stays on your mind for a while!

Organised Despair... a look inside the brain of an eccentric writer!

Organised Despair… a look inside the brain of an eccentric writer!

Another poem that I liked in The Commonline Journal was Braden Bell’s poem, Today. I particularly liked the last stanza. It’s true that during our waking hours, we have all the control in the world over our conscious thoughts, but at night, in the wee, small hours…

More fiction – Twenty Questions in Pound of Flash

More of my flash fiction is out this week in Pound of Flash. This particular piece, Twenty Questions, really is a micro-fiction piece at 163 words. It’s the second smallest snippet of fiction I’ve written (the other is 100 words exactly).

There are so many benefits of flash fiction: a quick-fix read for those with short attention spans; an outlet for a writer who has an interesting, but not fully-fledged story concept that would be better as a vignette; a fun, quirky, little piece leading up to a punchline etc. Why not write it up as a poem then? I suppose for me, it depends. Some ideas could work well as both, but generally I find that dialogue works better as fiction and abstract ideas as verse… or prose-poetry, or fictionesque-verse… or a boundary-crossing mishmash. What happens if you try to do too many things at once? The birth of a linguistic mongrel!

Too many things at once... candid camera: chu-hi and curlers

Too many things at once… candid camera: chu-hi and curlers