That is a fantastic cover, and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t get anything as wonderful this time round. I was, of course, completely wrong. The cover to this book is just fabulous, in every sense of the word. I’m a massive fan of Sarah-Jane Crowson. She creates dark, surreal, beautiful images – collages of words and visual elements that are not only beautiful, but thought provoking. They draw you in to a strange world of crinolined birds and stars and blue distances. If you’d told me a year ago that she would be designing a book cover for me, I’d have – I don’t know – scoffed. I’d have laughed at you. But she did. And it’s gorgeous. I’m wondering if you can frame a book and put it on the wall. She has given me an image that feels like a distillation of the feeling I hope you get from the collection. There are traces of old myths here, and I hope that there are new ones. Things half seen, half remembered. You should check out Sarah-Jane’s website. She’s a marvel. https://scrowson.myportfolio.com/in-the-dream-garden-thoughts-are-jewels
I wanted to share my experience of working with Black Bough founder, Matt, and encourage you to put yourself forward for this. Black Bough is a lovely press, producing really high quality work.
Matthew Smith is the founder of Black Bough Poetry, and the editor of my new poetry collection, The Poet Spells Her Name. I wanted to write a post about what it’s been like to work with him, because he has been the thing that made the difference.
I feel like that old, corny story about the footprints in the sand. If you looked down at the footprints we’ve left over the last few months, since we started this journey towards publication, you would mostly see Matt’s. He has definitely been carrying me, and I’m immensely grateful for that.
Things were tickety-boo when we started discussing this, but round about the time the work started properly, I re-started chemo. I’ve not been too bad in terms of physicals symptoms (I have hair – yay!, I’m not too nauseous – double yay! – and my taste hasn’t been too bad), but I have been drained of concentration, creativity, and energy. I literally could not have got this far without Matt’s enthusiasm and energy and support. If you follow him on Twitter, you’ll know he easily has enough of all that for two. Maybe more. I know he’s mentoring at the moment and has mentoring slots coming up.
I’ve been a Black Bough devotee since pretty early in its life. I #Top Tweet Tuesday as often as I can. To be published by Black Bough in a book of my own is amazing. And maybe we’re a good fit. I tend towards short poems. I like poems that grab you by the elbow and say, urgently, “look at this. Look at it!”. The haiku spirit of standing alongside the reader and hoping that they see what you see. On reflection, I think this meant that Matt didn’t have to rein me in too much. We didn’t strip out much. His big job was keeping me going and waiting patiently for me to get back to him. I really appreciate that patience.
Being edited is a strange process. Matt’s attention to detail and his outsider view really helped me to look at the work. He was right pretty much all of the time. I stood my ground over some capitalisations, but that meant articulation WHY the capitals mattered to me (and why I didn’t want some). I’m an instinctive writer. My process is :m
Think
Think
Write
Think
Read it out loud
Mess around a bit
Read it out loud again
Off you go.
So articulating choices was an interesting discipline for me. I think that thoughtfulness has made this the best book it could be. I’m very proud of what we’ve made. I’m very grateful to have had the chance to work with Matt and Black Bough. It’s been very special.
I’ve had such lovely, supportive comments on social media. You can read more here – and explore the Black Bough site – the Silver Branch features are exceptional. And there are links for buying it.
My second book is out today! Courtesy of https://www.blackboughpoetry.com/ and the very wonderful Matt Smith. I feel so much gratitude for this. To Matt, obviously, who is such a delightful powerhouse of poetry. I’ve watched Black Bough grow from a publisher of internet broadsheets to a thriving press. They’ve produced some really beautiful books, and their Christmas/Winter anthologies are glorious. The cover design is by Sarah-Jane Crowson. I’m a massive fan of her work, and to have her cover on my book is more than a dream come true. The other people I want to thank are the people whose words grace the cover and the introduction. I can’t quite believe how kind they are, how enthusiastic. These are poets and writers who I really respect, and to have such positive feedback from them means a huge amount. I’m talking about George Sandifer-Smith (Poetry Wales), Ness Owen (Moon Jellyfish Can Barely Swim, Parthian Press), Rachel Deering (Crown of Eggshell, Cerasus Poetry), Matt Gilbert (Street Sailing, Black Bough), Karen Pierce Gonzalez (Coyote in the Basket of My Ribs, Alabaster Leaves/Kelsay Books), Angela Graham (A City Burning, Seren Books), M S Evans (Nights on the Line, Black Bough), Alan Parry (Neon Ghosts, Broken Spine). This is an amazing list. Thank you.
Spring does its usual thing – suddenly there, like a swallow – that first one, perched on a wire, or swooping. Those flint sharp wings. Spring opens like a flower, like cherry blossom, or apple blossom, or may. And then, it’s gone, lost somewhere in the scent of roses, in the sweet red juice of that first strawberry. That bite.
A poem for dVerse. I’m hosting tonight, and we’re taking inspiration from The Colour of Hope by Jen Feroze. Three things that make us happy, woven into a poem. Come and join us.
All evening, she circled the pool of light and conversation. I watched her, or at least, I noticed her, from time to time, darting, sparkling. She bubbled like prosecco bubbles. She dragonflied around the room, one moment here, one moment there, a flash of something, an energy – taking her prey so swiftly that it almost felt like love.
I’m hosting dVerse tonight, and we’re looking at animal verbs.
All those years I spent looking upwards, seeking out the stars. Searching for them. I grew old, not realising stars were blooming all around me.
I could have gathered them, held them like a child holds a smooth stone, piled them in buckets. i could have marvelled at them, but I chose to chase the lights that were so far away –
I wonder now if they were ever stars?
Mish is hosting at dVerse tonight, and gives us some amazing pictures from surreal photographer Erik Johansson to inspire ekphrastic poems. Do check this out – the pictures are fantastic and I think they will generate some great poems.
May Day. I could hear the music – the main street would be full of couples, lining up to be joined, and then to dance. As a child I’d wondered what it would be like to be, on this day, without a date. On a back street, dusky bags beneath my eyes, I found out.
One last glance at the other singles. No. I wasn’t going to tie myself to one of them for life, not even to stay. To walk the same streets every day, between a house I’d been assigned to, to a shop I’d always known? To have children who’d grow up to live here, here and nowhere else? I shrugged. Maybe this was better.
The gates opened. Someone was crying. I hugged my parents tightly, and then walked on, into the world outside. The gates closed behind us. We were alone.
A quadrille for Lisa at dVerse. A quadrille is 144 words of flash fiction incorporating a quotation from a poem. Lisa has chosen:
On this day without a date, On a back street, dusky — Charles Simic, from My Friend Someone
We haven’t yet attended to the ground. Well, I’ve been busy. It’s been on my mind, but now it’s May. The May Queen has been crowned, and still we haven’t touched it. I’m resigned to a poor season, though I think that you are not. But the house is clean, the dust is blown away, the windows shine. Who knew there could be so much light? We lost ourselves a little in the dark. You know, we love the sun, we open to it, and we spent the winter curled up tightly, we were seeds ourselves. And I approve this spring uncurling, reaching for the world.
A poem for Laura at dVerse. You can find the challenge here: /https://dversepoets.com/2023/05/04/take-a-four-line-alternate-rhyme-scheme-its-a-steal/. I really struggled with this one. I spent ages looking for “end words” I could work with, and then thought “Pff!” and went with the Edna St Millay “Dirge without Music” that Laura features in the prompt. I love St Millay – she has such a deftness of touch, and works so well with rhythm and rhyme – so it was hard to get away from her original piece. Those rhyming words really dictate the poem in many ways. Or maybe that’s just how it feels when you take it apart.
Sarah writes poems 