Finding a Balance with the World

I survived the camping with the girls and my youngest son, barely. Our fave campsite has now become stupidly popular, we had a 12-man bachelor party up singing and shooting bb guns until late and a group of giggling mothers into the morning. So I didn't get much sleep. 

The next day they all cleared off and I thought we'd have a couple of quiet hours to decide whether to stay the next night when a 40-person party showed up for a bbq picnic. I need a new campsite close to a fire pit and toilet and not too far to walk from the car. I want to sit near a lake with just my kids splashing about, I want to sit by a fire in the silence of the woods. We had a lovely time cooking over the fire and swimming and just chilling, but it was just too noisy and crowded. I felt like I was crashing someone else's party just trying to cook a sausage on the communal fire pit.

There's a balance point that I always struggle with between what I need and what others need. I'm not always good at meeting both, especially with my kids, but also with my own needs and with others. I'd be happy camping alone, so I can write and do as I please. However, I went camping with my kids who have their own wishes, to a place where there are conveniences that make camping with kids easier. They loved it, having everything near and so did lots of others, so I had to share or not stay a second night. We came home. 

I have an upcoming writers' retreat with my writing group Helsinki Writers. It's also a weird balance. We want a social atmosphere, but we want to focus a bit on writing. We say we want to do writing activities and talk, but when we get there we mostly want to drink and chat. This is our third year and we're still getting the mechanics in place. It will be a good time however we work it. I will make my own time for writing and hopefully, some people will show up for my own little session. And least we're keeping our festivities in a private place, not taking over a public space.

I've been reminded on Twitter recently that coming in August is The Sealey Challenge, to read a poetry book or a chapbook every day. I have a pile of books unread that I'll give a go. There are probably not enough for one every day, but some of them are longer, so it might take me a few days to finish. I'd like to write a short review of each as well which I'll try to share on Twitter and this blog. 

Here are a few of the books I have for the challenge. I also have a few on my Kindle app. And if I have time I will also read some of the magazine issues I've fallen behind on recently. As school starts in a week and I have a new role, I know I won't be able to keep up with the Challenge every day, but if I manage to get through this pile and write a quick review, I will be happy

Sorry, realised I've read the Fiona Benson book, it's her new book Ephemeron I'm reading this time. I thought it didn't look right. 

That's another balance I'm not good at, keeping up with my poetry reading. I read a lot of fiction, I write a ton of poetry, but I struggle to read poetry. I love individual poems, but collections are hard for me to get into unless they have some strong pull. I'm not sure what it is, a theme or story going through or just really outstanding poems or what, but The Sealey Challenge is a good way to read those collections I've bought over the year, but never finished or sometimes even started due to other commitments. Even reading whole journals I've been published in can be a challenge. 

If you write poetry, do you read much of it? Do you read the magazines you're published in? Please, tell me how to balance it all. 

Rewriting Memories and Poetry Colllections

Summer is winding down, I only have a few weeks before I go back to work. I want to just wallow in it a bit longer, enjoy the lack of routine, the untethered flow of hours. The kids need a bit more structure but fight against any attempts. We're still going to the lakes, picking blueberries, working in the garden, enjoying the slow days.

The youngest wants to go camping, but it never works out like she thinks. She wants to build a fire and eat marshmallows but forgets the rest, the forest without screens, with insects and uncomfortable sleeping bags. But she's looking forward to it, so we'll give it another try. The boys already opt-out of stuff like this, so it will probably be just us girls. The boys have decided they don't like that sort of things, though the last time they came they enjoyed it. It's funny how we rewrite memories. 

I said in my last blog that I had started writing some different, fresher material. This has coincided with me going through all my poems and retiring poems that I didn't feel were strong or good enough. Most of these poems were not in one of the two or three collections I have in progress, so it was easy to just pack them away in a Retired Poems folder. I might go back in the future and have a look at them to try and refresh or reuse some of the material and I know they're still there if I want to use one or two, but it feels good to shift them out of sight. 

I write a lot, see note about having three collections going, but many of the poems I write are good enough on their own, but don't work well with others or my style has changed and I just don't find them as appealing anymore. I then went through the collections and had a cull as well. I didn't take out as many poems, but I changed the direction of one book, so I did need to take about a third away. It feels liberating to pare things down, to turn towards this new direction. 

I have one of those collections with a publisher, but it's been stalled for four years. In the meantime, I've rearranged and edited it over and over. It's better, certainly, but it doesn't make the wait feel any better. It's just so frustrating, not knowing when or if it will happen. I don't know if I'd be happier to have the collection the way it is, basically better, or to have it earlier, so I can move on. I sometimes feel like I'm still stuck in that place where the collection inhabits until it's published as I keep revisiting the poems as I edit. It will be nice to be free of them, in a sense. Until then it's a waiting game. A wading game as I move through the poems, just up to my ankles, occasionally plashing about.

My writing group is having its third annual retreat in two weeks. I'm looking forward to it. I have to drive, but besides that it will be just hanging out with people I like, writing, talking writing, eating and drinking, jumping in the hottub. It's a blast and I always manage to write a poem or two while I'm there. The day after we come back, I'm off to work. So that will be the end of summer, a proper send off.