Self-imposed restrictions

And so... NaPoWriMo was a no-go for me, mostly because of time and considerations of where to post these things. It's a terrible thing, getting more 'discerning' with your poetry. I dislike myself sometimes, as it feels like I'm being a tad snooty with my own work, but with the burgeoning internet (accidental) self-publication possibilities, and a diminishing market for real-world publication (and some pamphlet competitions specifying that included poems not be freely available anywhere on the internet) it seems more worthwhile a consideration. And so, and so. I find myself with these self-imposed restrictions and a mild self-disgust for following them.

So, no NaPoWriMo, and still not a huge amount of writing, but things are looking up a bit as I've enrolled in The Poetry School's online poetry course 'Adventures in Form' (which is inspired by that book over there, published by Penned in the Margins), and this requires a poem a week. I like the online course format, with friendly forums and loose deadlines, and no tutor to answer to for posting late (which I've done with every poem so far...) And it's good to be writing regularly again, even if it is in strange N+7 or Poemixtape forms - there's those self-imposed restrictions again.

AND, I'm running regularly again (hoorah!), and looking after a Herman, and learning to drive soon, and still Poet Shadowing for Shake the Dust, and customising cardigans with horse faces, and the rats are lovely - so really life is full and interesting without a poem a day to think about.

Making room

So it turns out that it's really difficult to do everything in life. Who knew?! Shake the Dust, full time job, sleeping, cooking, growing veg, watching Game of Thrones/Grey's Anatomy/Dexter/Holby City/Casualty/Homeland, playing with rats and reading the Guardian seems to be taking up all of my time, leaving notmuchroom for writing. This needs rectifying, obviously.

I am considering taking part in NaPoWriMo to kick start the creative habit again. Doing a creative post every day for a year was a wonderful thing to get the juices flowing, but it was a huge undertaking that I wouldn't recreate lightly, so a month seems a good place to start. I am having wonderings about posting online, though. Many more places specify that poems sent for consideration in competitions/publications shouldn't be freely available on websites, and although anything I post in these furious periods of creation are in a very rough, unedited state, my revisions don't often amount to a complete rehashing of a poem beyond recognition. But really, if you're doing a poem a day for a month, there should be some public declaration or proof that you have completed this task, even if no-one reads it. Or should there? I'll have a think and let you know.

They've arrived!

Comma getting a scritch

It's been a long wait (since Christmas, and the wonderful gift of a rat-mansion from the OH) but Comma and Em-dash are now here. The pale one (officially buff) is Comma, and she's already a snuggler who has a tendency towards funny-five-minutes's, and Em-dash is the darker one (officially agouti). She is the adventurer, and always likes to know what's going on.

They are brilliant, and all of my thanks and delight is aimed in the direction of Lloyd at Eximius Rats for breeding and raising such terrific little girlie rats.

Em-dash having a look

Just a note on the names: I've always wanted to call some animals after punctuation, as it's such a prevalent and useful thing in my life as a poet and wordsmith, and by strange coincidence the litter that these lovely ones are from was nicknamed 'The Brackets', after mum Katy and dad Bracken. It was meant to be!

If you're interested in rats and you'd like to see my ratty Pinterest board, then go ahead and take a look. I will warn you, though. I love double rex and hairless rats too... so they're not always the prettiest cutest looking creatures. Also, it's quite hard to find a lot of positive rat imagery. People seem to hate them. Even with faces like these!

It's all go.

I am now firmly entrenched in the wonderful Shake the Dust initiative as a poet shadow working with the marvellous Alfie Crow, and though we haven't gone into the school yet (first session on Tuesday!) I am already excited to be a part of it all. In fact, I've just spent the last hour reciting a poem in order to memorise it for performance - for the first time ever. I'm quite excited and scared about the prospect of freezing and forgetting everything at an inopportune moment, but hopefully the story of the poem and the mental map I've sort of created as I've been doing it will help.

Actually, no, who am I kidding. Memorising and reciting a poem isn't something I've done since I was about 10. I'm terrified! And to test this new practice in front of 150 12/13 year olds?! Oh my. Ohhhh my.

Talking of new experiences, I am also in the process of creating my own website! I've picked up quite a bit of html over the years, enough to decipher and amend pages and make existing designs do what I want, but I'm determined to build an xhtml and CSS website from scratch this time, so it's a very steep learning curve to get things looking how I want. Even though all I want is to keep things very simple! There's something very satisfying about learning it on the fly and getting links to change colour when you hover on them, or moving your sidebar so it floats left and leaves enough room for the main content to appear next to it.... no? Just me? Oh well...

In other news, I am getting rats at the beginning of March! Squee!

Not taking my own advice.

I have been honing my collection into a shorter pamphlet so I can enter some upcoming competitions. In editing all of the poems I think are worthy I have realised a truth: though my collection is called How to speak to your mother, I am yet to write a poem that does.

The more I think about it, the more of an oversight this seems. How did I not notice this before?

Hey honey, it's been a while. Have a picture. A poetry picture.

Pegasuses, and taking flight.

I feel a poetry reboot coming along. Pegasuses have been plaguing my mind... and I feel the need for a load more work and a load more poems to send out and a general increase in poetic energy. And poetic focus.

All this, and I am still in training, with my first race (10K) on Sunday. It turns out, too, that I am not the only poet doing the Great North Run this year! (Not that I thought I was, but it's nice to find some other self-identified poet-types also taking on the physical task). Kate Fox, Sheree Mack and Scott Tyrell are all running, too, and probably much faster than me. I sense a most poetical exertion, and wonder how many other writers will be in the midst, without even realising that they are not alone!