Tag Archives: Red Squirrel Press

Rules are made to be broken

18 Apr

About three and a half years ago, when I decided to seriously take up poetry again I also decided that I would only perform on stage when asked.  How so?  Well, like many page poets, I (secretly) hate performing.  I get incredibly anxious, I spend hours worrying about how to order my set list, I worry that my voice won’t come across, I worry something unfortunate will happen with the mic stand, I worry that I will get tounge tied, I worry I’ll be shit, I worry that I will be the worst poet reading, I worry, I worry…  Yes, you get an adrenaline kick from a good performance on stage, but after doing some performance poetry years ago I realised that the adrenaline kick wasn’t enough to make it worth it, for me anyway.

So I’ve only performed when I was asked.  Which means that I haven’t performed a lot.  However, the fact that I will have a pamphlet published sometime in the near future by Red Squirrel Press means I will have to step up my self-publicity game.  So I am performing, I even volunteered, I felt slightly enthusiastic for a whole half an hour after.

And whom would tempt me out of my performing retirement?  Inky Fingers.  To “celebrate” the dullest event of the year (the Royal Wedding in case you’re wondering) they are hosting a spoken word night themed To the altar! To the block!  With  a lot of  poems on the subject of my recent separation, how could I resist?  Hope to see you there.  I think.

The best conversations you’ve had all week

2 Feb

Me:  So, what are you doing Tuesday?

You:  The 8th?

Me:  Yeah.

You:  Not much, did you have something in mind?

Me:  Well, I will be reading my poem from the new Red Squirrel Press anthology “By Grand Central Station We Sat Down and Wept“, at it’s Scottish launch.

You:  That sounds great.

Me:  Yes, it’s the first time my writing will have appeared in an actual book, so I’m quite excited.  I’ve been assured it has a spine and everything!

You:  Well, I was planning on washing my hair.

Me:  There are free “refreshments” (wink).

You:  I suppose I could wash my hair another night.  Where is it?

Me:  It’s at the Fruitmarket Gallery, near Waverly Station (Edinburgh, Scotland).  And before you ask, it starts at 7pm.

You:  Well, I shall really look forward to seeing you.

Me:  There will be a host of other talented poets reading as well.

You:  Even better.