Thursday, 11 April 2013

Partisan writing

How does your writing reflect your social and political views? And what do you think about the passing of a former prime minister of the UK? To answer the second question: I'm more interested in the injustices she created and how to oppose them. Polemics are not my thing these days but observation on what is and what needs changing sits in much of my writing so I would really recommend this thoughtful piece by Dinesh Allirajah who was my creative writing tutor on the Lancaster online course (not offered any more, sadly). It is a cogitation on the 80s - and particularly Blair Peach's killing, which I remember so well.

Sunday, 7 April 2013

Brain error?

Bollards by National Library of Ireland on The Commons

Photo - Bollards - courtesy of the National Library 
of Ireland, on flickr Creative Commons
Do you ever wonder where your thinking has migrated? It could be my age, I do realise that.  But having put up a link to the Poetry School - who ran the poetry of protest workshop I attended, tutor Antony Dunn - I cannot now find any reference to the napowrimo.  So here is another link for the US site: nanowrimo to get your prompts on.

Thursday, 4 April 2013


Double publishing success is my excuse for two postings today.  My story, Longing, has at last found its niche on a Canadian ezine, commuterlit,  It might make your mouth water!
One or two poems should also appear in an e-anthology to be published by the Workers Educational Association, in the future. Our creative writing class, where I was a student, joined up with another to perform at this year's Headingley LitFest. The pieces we performed are to go into the anthology.  So watch this space.
Amendment: sadly this publication did not come to fruition.

I would love her

NaPoWriMo was born in 2003 but is being promoted by the  Poetry School, encouraging poets to write a poem a day in the month of April. Even if I don't write every day I've made a start here. A couple of weeks ago I climbed the steps to a lonely suburban station in northern England, in a snowy landscape. No one else was around apart from this figure on a seat. I did a double take, as did another woman who followed me on to the platform - we both laughed. Then and old friend appeared who I hadn't seen for about three years - a lovely surprise. She laughed too. Sadly my phone was out of battery, so no photo of the figure herself. Then the train came.


I would love her cold white stillness
on the platform seat. 
I would love to travel with her ticket
stuck in her like a receipt. 
I would love to cuddle her knowing
she is only a conceit.
I would love to sit with her
until she melted in my heat.

The snow woman looked so calm,
at the lonely station, so neat. 
Whose frozen hands had formed 
this fabulous feat?