Poetopoly II Part 2!

After you've three missed turns, you land on a square and pick another card. Guess what? The job for which you were interviewed has been interestingly filled by...someone who already worked in the building where the office was based. Why DID they bother with a selection procedure? Or was that just one of those ghastly big hoops that poor old big organizations have to jump through?

Reminding one of the episode a while back when a truly sensational gallery with a truly gifted curator - wholly independent and existing only on selling magnificent works of art...who never got any funding, was finally closed down by a local council who wanted to sell the venue the gallery was in to some developers...who then in the recession left it to rot anyway...

The curator then went for a job in a nearby gallery as the manager's post had come up. It was a no brainer - this curator was staggeringly gifted. But of course the job went to the assistant manager of another nearby gallery that's regularly funded...Of course.

Poetopoly II

Throw the dice and pick a card. It says 'interview for a high profile job'. Let us say you are an experienced arts administrator, in touch with your field and region, and that a post comes up for a regional manager of a well known arts development agency which you've always known about, and which has been expanding of late from its London base.

You send off your application, and get an interview... At the interview it seems that they are uninterested or at least surprised by your vision for outreach in the relevant artform, given in the presentation which you have prepared. You don't get the job, although they claim to be impressed by the work you already do and have done, and also that they didn't choose you because they have a 'brand' and needed someone who would fit their specific 'strategy'.

You then meet up with another artist who has experience relevant to the job - of programming this time - who also went for it. Four people gained an interview, and as two of them, you swap stories. He too felt that he delivered his presentation well, that they weren't however interested in his special talents or his own experience, but that they wanted someone who would fit their 'brand'. (Leaving aside the question of whether an arts development agency with charitable status should really be ignoring regional distinctiveness in favour of a metropolitan brand...)

A few days later, their website (which has remained static for some years, as well as London based) suddenly has new pages for each region. You look at the region for which you applied. The page seems very familiar...those weren't some of the points and the spiel you made in your presentation were they...????! Miss three moves.

Film Moments

Recently something prompted me (perhaps talking to an old friend?) to go back and review some favourite films or film moments. My favourite film has to be the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari from 1920, like many who are interested in Expressionist art. Although the hand tinted colour version is harder to get hold of, and is definitely more striking, and it can be seen with a variety of different soundtracks.

But on going back to YouTube, I found some fine moments which I had either forgotten or not seen before.

Among them was a dream sequence that Dali designed for Hitchcock's 'Spellbound' at;

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzxlbgPkxHE&feature=related

and a fantastic trailer for Jean Cocteau's Blood of a Poet at;

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3scPy9ohKDc&feature=related

A Merry Christmas

I once was talking to some friends - 'I love Christmas' I remarked. 'Have you loads of family?' they asked. 'No...I said I liked Christmas.' I replied. And by that I meant the lights, decorations (the tasteful ones), mince pies and crackers (good ones). Cards from friends and colleagues, those little tokens of affection, friendship and a proffered commitment to knowing someone for another twelve months...and presents of course - it's good to know people who are both close and prepared to get you things you want, or know one just well enough to get a surprise that's pleasant rather than 'what a waste of money'. Well...by and large. Attractive lights not flashing apoplectically. Singing carols, lighting lots of candles...fine chocolates (the sort only bought two or three times a year). Cocktails...favourite sparkling wine. Beautiful wrapping collectable for making into posters or cards, decoupage or other crafts. And of course, the catching up with close friends who live a distance off, the atelier supper, roaring fires, the lights changing with the music... Music which starts with a Medieval Christmas of early music over presents, and ends with thumping dance music after an exquisitely laid dinner table...fine food of course, always an option if there's an excellent cook on hand. Extra treats like better olives. Drinks in favourite pubs with nearby friends. Light in the darkness...a promise that spring will come again. The marking of the moment when the year turns to lengthen the days again.

A time when all the ruined Christmasses of childhood and adolescence are made up for by the 'in adulthood, I will...' with the attendant washing up and clearing up. Rituals made, fashioned out of traditions and shaped to one's own ends, one's own vision.

Everyone's Christmas is different, with varying emphasis on a multitude of common themes. Cards vary and swing between tasteful, meaningful, messages of affection and renewal, meaningless, for form's sake, dull and destined for the rubbish bin, cherished and destined for the scrap book, little time spent choosing, carefully chosen, handmade, for charity, or cheaply mass produced... Just for instance.

Much money needn't be spent. This Christmas I made cards and some presents too. But everyone does things their own way. For me part of the pleasure is doing things 'my way'. And of course it doesn't always work out! Christmas being dependent by its nature on others as well as on one's organizational skills! But this Christmas has been good so far. I hope yours has been too.

Poetopoly I

Imagine a board. Imagine some cards. Picture some dice. Take it from there;

You see the square in the corner with the 'Do Not Pass Go' card? Good. Then we'll begin.

You perform successfully at a major festival, having been accepted on the strength of your c.v. and happening to know a trusted performer whom the organizer asks about you. Also having been at a conference and meeting a slam poet who recommend you try for it. The second year, you are entrusted with organizing some of the programme for that marquee. It goes well, two of the poets you ask being quite well known. Collect £20 in expenses. What you don't know is that the organizer in question is thinking of handing on to someone else...they get back to you on the third year saying is it alright to not ask you back as they only have people twice? Certainly you reply, thinking you don't want to pressure them, and have had your crack of the whip. A couple of years later, they have handed on to someone else whom they deemed reliable and stuff, and have retired unwell, from the post. You realize that had you been a bit more pushy, the new organizer could have been you. Much of past allusions and conversations are made plain. You had that feeling at the time, but you thought it would be a decade or more in the future opportunity, not soon. You send off your c.v. to the new organizer thinking it's been a while, and that it would be great to do that festival again, of course you don't mention that you nearly got offered their job. When the rejection does come in, it's a Dear Everyone, not even personalized. Go to jail?

You perform at an event hosted by someone you met at the said festival, as part of another more regionally well-known festival. It goes well - not a huge audience, but one of the nicest, and the organizers are delighted. 'We must have you back!' they enthuse. You never see the promised fee, nor hear from them again. Pay £50 in some sort of tax. The other festival you get asked to as a result of the big one, pays you in a lunch token...for £5.

You should have...been more pushy, got back to the big fest organizer the year after...bothered the organizers of the other event soon afterwards...?? Wear a dunce's hat.

Ed Reardon Clones Unite! Parts 1, 2 & 3

Part 1

At the risk of sounding cynical or worse, and knowing that in general I try to keep blogs upbeat, I reserve the right to 'sound sideways' (rather than off) in this 'third blog'. Being number three I always hope gives it a special license to be as it likes.

I was talking to a couple of friends who seem to be interested in starting another writing circle. I say 'another' as there are already (as there are in most cities) a number of open mikes and like events. A poetry platform, a newer one, a performance poetry and comedy night, a storytelling club, recently a cabaret night...and other formats such as one only for those with certain minimum professional publishing credits. But this was to be one for any type of writing (which sounded good - in Bristol there's one for written fiction well read/performed by the author! with good venues, which sounds excellent). However, having spoken to one of the friends some months ago (when less busy, and feeling like doing anything that didn't involve sending festival applications) I was keener on the idea. By late summer I was wondering what planet I'd been living on to have ever imagined I had the time...by now, I was thinking - I go to the story club, to the stand up/performance night, to the mixed arts group meetings, and very rarely have time to go to the poetry platform - the idea of committing to something else as well every month (on top of all the meetings for work and time to catch up with the other members of the Collective) left me cold.

I did remember feeling positive at one point about such an idea, some time ago, before I'd ever spoken about writing with the friend in question - and I had thought of a couple of really gifted writers amongst my go-round-for-dinner / meet-up-regularly friends. One who wrote a story so gripping that years later I STILL want to know what happened next! with whom I was on a writing MA course, and who never finished, despite having given up a good copywriting and press officer job to do the course. The other who had a sitcom on Radio 4 accepted that ran for a series before the lead actress started picking the script to pieces, and so ensuring that a second series was never commissioned...who really should be writing a fantastic and seminal biography of a key explorer and editing his journals (and being commissioned for a follow up documentary) - as well as finishing her adventure novel for girls...but of course with kids, a job and another two time intensive pursuits or grandchildren and a job and house renovation upheaval, neither of them - tragically - is writing anything anytime soon. Nor did they have time to share it if they did. One really should have won a Bridport Prize, and the other really should have an academic book deal. And I have read a lot of stuff - for degrees, for work, as what I do.

So said this other friend, let's do it - let's start another writing/open mic group. Alright so I replied what I replied because I knew I hadn't the time. But part of what I said was this - (as he's starry eyed about this untried territory of poetry or writing). How much stuff have you sent out? None, he replied. That explains it then. There is a catechism (or in some circles there was) that small zines build up to big zines (journals) then enough big zines mean time for a publisher and just keep sending till the first book is accepted. The same for short fiction to a novel. When I was at college, they said a rough guide was 5 things published out of every 200 subs (submissions). I found it more wayward then that. Say you send around 85 (not all in one year) and you score four hits, then try manuscripts from time to time. The most depressing are the 'oh I could tell you were a poet - a lovely story, but you've no profile'. Great. Near miss follows near miss. The I'll take it next year as I'm full this year, and then going off it in the meantime. High powered work in tiny zines feeling like a waste of time. Work placed next to stuff the very essence of which you were writing against, and being too immature to find that funny, instead painful almost. The slowness of it, the never knowing whether a three month wait means no or maybe. (A recent publishing contract came in after a nine month wait.) The ending up sending almost exclusively online just because of the better response times, cheapness and sheer numbers of varied zines. Sending off only six pieces in a year one time (say that year was really busy!) and getting two published. One six months yielding a 50% success rate - which neither continues nor pays for a single cup of coffee. Sending off an average of 12 things, and reading of some writer published in a 100 zines just within the last year. When does he eat? Have a bath or shower? Exist except for spamming from the com or weighing MS.s?? Some publishers still don't take online zines as proper publication credits. Even though some quality print journals (for example The Argotist and Spokes) have made the transition. And some have ISSN numbers. Sending MS.s then, once one has a decent credits list (albeit that's subjective - everyone seems to have a different opinion on the number and quality of publications required or desired) - say fifteen zines and an anthology with an ISBN, a couple of pamphlets to show you're at least a bit serious - taking a sample; and even a fair fit to the publishing house and the best you're likely to get is the rejection slip personally signed by the insanely busy, overworked and overwhelmed owner or editor. Maybe something along the lines of 'to writers of quality work, we feel we owe an explanation' which is that they have no more space/time/money and hence can only take two of the minimum hundred possible best candidates. Think long odds. Think lottery. The Director of Apples and Snakes was quoted as saying that around a 1000 poets nationwide make their main living as performance poets. So don't imagine that just because you're stage as well page that it gets any easier or that the odds get better.

Part 2

I sometimes used to wonder about writing a manual or guide rather, about 'the scene' such as it is. I used to sketch it out to myself - 'Let's say you've proved you're serious, that you've been writing since you were a child, got a degree in it, probably an MA, went to a writing circle as soon as you were old enough to go to a pub, have sent out work (over a hundred pieces minimum, though not all in one year necessarily), got say 15 plus things in print, at least four pamphlets, say a chapbook or three, have performed at allsorts of open mics, even got gigs, though few enough paying, and fewer still a reasonable wage, maybe have an ISBN number - add some other random credits of your choice in related matters or fields and enough work for at least one volume...Let's say all this.' 'So I'm not talking down at you' is the message here. And what then? It was then that I always lost the will to carry on.

Hope Clark of South Carolina in the USA will tell you 'what then?' better than most. It's advice, good advice - about keeping positive, spamming, seeking new markets, being good at more than one thing, staying motivated, using your belief in your work as an external drive to communicate it to others and get them to part with cash, not as an internal drive to torture yourself with. Recommended information sources and agent's blogs. Another useful thing is to subscribe to Spoken/Written Bulletin S.W., the newsletter I edit. (No I'm not kidding, that's why I started it. Check out the links to the right.) And for God's sake, be good at something else - at least one other thing. It will keep you going against the 'how much did I get paid for that?' or the 'not another publisher saying this is great but we're not taking it!' And of course, publish the books yourself. But don't waste the ink/money unless you're prepared to market them. And if you're a private person with no public side - well then develop a public mentality at least in part or get a lottery ticket instead, because the odds will be just the same. One in a million. Success never finds you - you find success. Unless in such a rare case, that you might as well have won a lottery. Even the best odds are; one third hard work, one third good work, one third luck. But the hard work (assuming the work's good already) will help no end.

And yet - well, don't bank on it.

Part 3

So I guess that's why I'm not keen. What's the point of reading stuff - albeit new stuff - to those as yet unembittered or still emboldened or something. And reeling out drunken tales (well, it IS starting as a group of friends) of sorry near misses, of rejections vs. acceptances, of the hard won acceptances (just as depressing for those without any at all, surely?), of contacts merrily making good money from publishing, rather than teaching workshops, proof reading, editing, copywriting or whatever. Of gigs that never coughed up the cheque. Of...you get the picture? As I also said, for a while the chapbook with the work I consider my best has been due out. It is two poems short. Ideally I want to write them at a philosophy conference (in the Continental tradition - the events where many of the others were written). Which (for various reasons) I haven't been to for over a year, nor have any immediate prospect of going. Perhaps I could get the requisite input from reading some philosophy? Although it's the lively debate, the thrill of how the papers are delivered (yes I have been to some unusually good conferences!), the meeting of those whose job it is to research, to think, folks with access to proper libraries! Oh well. But to make time to read some philosophy (I admit I haven't for too long), to finish the chapbook...can I be bothered? I ought to. But, I ask myself - what do I expect to gain? I'm not one of those poets that waves products in people's faces, mentions them at every turn. I often carry copies of the novel (I'm not that dumb!) but poetry? Well aware that nearly everyone writes but so few read...poetry especially. There are ways, I'm not saying there aren't. But I for one find the idea of going to another reading circle, even with friends, won't cut through what I can only term a sense of 'why am I doing this?'.

This post is dedicated to Ed Reardon's Week, the Radio 4 sitcom of unerring brilliance about a writer...who is cynical to say the least. Whose fansites so often say 'He's me!' or 'That character was based on me!' or just 'How Goddamn true...'

The Critical Writings of Geoffrey Hill

Bloody hell. I was just trawling sub guidelines and online zines for the sake of Spoken/Written, when I found myself at the Blackbox Manifold Online Magazine. I looked at a recent edition, and saw that there was a review of Geoffrey Hill's Collected Critical Writings. I have to admit, that despite having all his published poetry available in print in the UK, I haven't yet read the Critical Writings - not out of laziness, but due to its cost and no longer having access to an academic library. (When asking for recently published academic books at a public city library, I was told that, well, I could order it...yes, fine. If I wanted to hear nothing for at least two months, and after that, there'd be no guarantee, and...I didn't ask what had happened to inter-library loans, just left the overworked and cynical librarian alone as they seemed to desire.)

So I was mightily interested to read this review. It was well written and extremely interesting, by Adam Piette, and almost used Hill-esque language in parts. It portrayed the book almost as an indictment of mainstream culture and the paths that literature and poetry have gone down in the last fifty years. The review itself was a remarkable description of the book, and I'm looking forward to knowing how accurate or not I think it is (fully aware of the irony of writing a kind of pseudo-review of, or at best comment about, a review...).

Another of his claims is that Hill (and I could believe that) sketches out an ethical and consistent code of poetic or artistic honour from salutary critique of the mainstream or accepted norm to moral consistency to rigorous profiting by the example of past masters of history. Piette ends by saying that no one pretty much would or could follow such a proposed example or path.

What a challenge to any admirer of Hill's work, also an artistic practitioner who exists outside the mainstream! Who themselves honour philosophy, history and a differing code of 'ethics'. (Making no claims - perhaps we follow some ways because they suit us, like choosing a degree subject in which you will do better than another, finding it in some way 'easier'. Or make scurrilous justifications of your own position, giving it explanations in tall cut letters?)

But I can't help wondering if that's really what Critical Writings says?? Is it really laying down some holy gauntlet proffered to the wary? Or is it meant rhetorically, as being already far too heavy for anyone but himself to lift?

Check out the full review at;

http://www.manifold.group.shef.ac.uk/issue3/AdamPiette.html