Corona Virus Week Four: Filling Time

I almost forgot about this. I haven't lost track of time due to the kids' schooling and their obsession with Easter, but it's trying to keep all the new things I'm juggling. To stay on top of so many projects, my studies, little jobs around the house and my daily writing.

I've managed to keep up so far with my poem of day challenge for GloPoWriMo. I've written eleven first drafts, some about our Corona Virus isolation, but a few other subjects have popped up. It's strange how you can sometimes fine a new way to approach a familiar prompt. I've had the prompt 'green' about four times now in various challenges and I've usually managed to come up with new subjects to write about, sometimes hitting it in a roundabout way like the green-eyed monster of jealousy. It's nice to get back into the flow and it is just that. I often don't have the time and head space to try and write until the evenings, but they just come, lumpy and rough, but I've managed to get the shape of a poem down every day so far.

I need to make a video reading of one of my poems for an upcoming online journal launch. It's nice that the magazine has found a way to launch in this situation and that for once I can 'attend', but I'm not keen on recording myself reading a poem. The audio one I made last week for my poem in Not Very Quiet was difficult enough. I'm not a comfortable reader, so trying to appear natural and calm while I record myself and try and remember my poem will be nerve-wracking. And also finding a quiet space to do it with a houseful of inquisitive and noisy kids will be almost impossible. If the wind would stop blowing so hard and cold, I'd consider doing it outside. I'll link of course once the launch happens. Try not to laugh.

For my poetry writing month poem for this week I thought I'd stick with women from Scotland. I came across Kathleen Jamie through her nature writings before I found her poetry. Her book Findings introduced me to a different side of Scotland while I was first living in high-rise flats in Glasgow. Her poem 'The Tradition' taken from her collection The Bonniest Companie finds a connection with me on many levels, not only it's connection to the Scottish Independence Referendum in 2014.

The Tradition

For years I wandered hill and moor
Half looking for the road
Winding into fairyland
Where that blacksmith kept that forge

Who'd heat red hot dragging links
That bound me to the past,
Then, with one almighty hammer-blow
Unfetter me at last.

Older now, I know nor fee
Nor anvil breaks those chains
And the wild ways we think we walk
Just bring us here again.

I'm dreading going back to school work on Tuesday, it's been a nice break with the kids, working in the garden, on crafts. I think we're all tired of the isolation and I've seen a lot of people easing themselves out more due to the nice weather and holiday. The shops were jammed when I went for my weekly stock-up and to the hardware store for repair supplies. I'm afraid we'll see an upturn in infections and deaths in two weeks time. Listen to the guidance and be safe.

Corona Virus Week Three - Chinks of Light

The online magazine Not Very Quiet, a bi-annual online women's poetry journal, has included my poem 'The Wedding Suit' in their latest issue. There's even an audio file of me reading it. Sorry, I know I'm like everyone else and hate the sound of my own voice, but ouch, I'm so not ready for that. There's dozens of poems, that I have to admit I haven't had a chance to peruse yet, but it looks like a great mix from the titles.

The new Scotland-based magazine Driech has included three of my poems in Issue 2 with poets like Chrys Salt and Hugh McMillan. An honour for me to be included in their ranks and to have my work wend its way home. An issue only costs £3, including postage and a year subscription £10 post free and that's 6 issues now they've gone bi-monthly, so it's a great way to support a small magazine in these tough times for not too much effort on your bank account. 

And I've also had two poems appear in a recent issue of erbacce, the magazine connected with erbacce press which was a surprise as I had submitted them last year for their annual FREE poetry prize (still open until May 1 2020!!) and I know they didn't win that, but I didn't hear anything back, so once they announced the winners I assumed that was it. So it was a nice surprise to receive the issue in the mail this week. I guess I made a sort of long list. Read their guidelines very carefully for the prize, but it's worth giving it a go. 

And back to reality. If you had asked me 3 days ago how I was, I'd probably have broken down in tears. Home schooling is breaking me, but I've had a few days respite as the kids were away to their dad's so I've been able to catch up with my studies, go to the allotment, hang some photos that have been sitting unloved for years, do some reading and crafting and, most importantly for the blog, join in with Angela Carr's new 30 day writing challenge which coincides with GloPoWriMo (or NaPoWriMo if you insist on being US-centric) the poetry writing month which encourages people to write a poem a day. And so far because of the isolation I've been able to keep up. Four new rough drafts done and as soon as I hit Publish for this I'll start on the next one. 

In honour of GloPoWriMo, I usually include a poem by a poet I like. This time I'm including The Hill Burns by the Scottish writer Nan Shepherd. I have to admit I've never read her poems before, but I've recently started her book The Living Mountain which is part of a online read-along started by nature writer Rob MacFarlane. I  haven't been able to keep up with the read-along and discussion, but it's worth following Rob on Twitter and reading his books, he has a lovely way with words and inspiring people to explore nature and to write about it. I've only managed The Wild Places and The Lost Words (written with Jackie Morris and with her beautiful illustrations, a magical book) so far as it's hard to get his books here, but I'm in a queue of about a million waiting for his latest book Underland once the libraries reopen here in Helsinki. 

Anyway, I found this poem by Nan Shepherd and it encapsulates the feeling I get from The Living Mountain, that reverence and connection to nature, to Scottish nature particularly. It reminds me of my time last summer walking in Puck's Glen in Argyll. 

The Hill Burns

So without sediment
Runs the clear burns of my country,
Fiercely pure,
Transparent as light
Gathered into its own unity,
Lucent and without colour;
Or green,
Like clear deeps of air,
Light massed upon itself,
Like the green pinions,
Cleaving the trouble of approaching night,
Shining in their own lucency,
Of the great angels that guarded the Mountain;
Or amber so clear
It might have oozed from the crystal trunk
Of the tree Paradisal,
Symbol of life,
That grows in the presence of God eternally.
And these pure waters
Leap from the adamantine rocks,
The granites and shists
Of my dark and stubborn country.
From gaunt heights they tumble,
Harsh and desolate lands,
the plateau of Braeriach
Where even in July 
The cataracts of wind
Crash in the corries with the boom of seas in anger,
And Corrie Etchachan
Down whose precipitous
Narrow defile
Thunder the fragments of rock
Broken by winter storms
From their aboriginal place;
And Muich Dhui's summit,
Rock defiant against frost and the old grinding of ice,
Wet with the cold fury of blinding cloud,
Through which the snow-fields loom up, like ghosts from a world of eternal annihilation,
And far below, where the dark waters of Etchachan are wont to glint,
And unfathomable void.
Out of these mountains,
Out of the defiant torment of Plutonic rock,
Out of fire, terror, blackness and upheaval,
Leap the clear burns,
Living water,
Like some pure essence of being,
Seen only by its movement.

The poem is so vivid and visceral, it makes me miss the country even more. Sorry, to hit you hard with names and links this week, amazing what you can remember and manage when you've had some actual time and distance to focus on yourself.

Back to the grind tomorrow, but it's a four day week this and next week due to the Easter holiday, so that will help a bit. 

I hope you're all holding up and finding bright spots to help you get through. 

Corona Virus Week Two - Facing Isolation

As so many of us are stuck at home in these crazy times, I've become part of The Stay-at-Home Online Literary Festival. It runs from 27 March to 11 April and will have readings, book launches, discussions, all those things we're missing with social distancing in the literary world. Some of the writers included are Maggie O'Farrell, Louise Welch, the writers of Butcher's Dog, Molly Brown and Tania Hershman.

I'm offering two poets a chance to receive feedback on up to ten poems or to discuss their next moves. If you're interested feel free to contact me via my website www.grimalkinpress.co.uk or via my Twitter handle @grimalkingerry. 

On a personal writing side, E. Christine Murray has included 5 of my poems on Poethead her collection of women poets from Ireland and abroad and there is a link to this blog in her Index of Women Poets. I've mentioned Poethead on here before, I catch up with it regularly to get a taste of what's going on in women's poetry. It's a heady mix of linguistic acrobatics and seamstresses of imagery and styles, every click something new and undiscovered. I usually end up in a rabbit hole of following links to other blogs or publishers sites or looking for more of the writers' work if I find one that really hits home. It's really worth spending some time wandering through.

On a smaller personal scale, everything that's going right now on seems so momentous, but I haven't been able to write about it. I edit unfinished poems, but I can't write more than a few notes about the self-isolation. I have one poem I started just as this began to take hold where the virus is beginning to work its way into. It was supposed to be just about the drama of beginnings and endings at a hospital, but I can't help to see the impact of the virus in the stanza. In everything, I read, watch, think about the virus seems to overwrite itself. 

I started scribbling the previous paragraph last night, far too deep into the wee hours and followed up by rewriting another half-finished poem so that it looked at home isolation. So I guess it will find a way to write itself. I can't approach it head on. I'm uncertain of where to start, worrying whether my view is worth speaking. I feel so insignificant, locked away, protected by the privilege of being able to wash my hands, stay off work, protect my family. Our lives feel on the verge of a huge change and I'm just holding my breath, waiting to see what will happen, how we will be affected, what will remain.

We are all uncertain and waiting. Be safe.

Corona Virus Isolation - Week One

On the poetry front, I've written a few rough drafts, edited a lot, submitted to a few journals and received a lot of rejections. Nothing new really. For not working, I haven't had a lot of time which I'll explain below. 

On a positive note, I've recently had a poem appear in the latest issue of Poetry Birmingham Literary Journal. I can't wait to get my copy, the cover is amazing. They've been great to work with. Their previous rejections have always had a personal touch, but this acceptance has been lovely. They edited my poem which I always love, to get an outside view of my work, but they suggested changes without making me feel I'd done something badly. It felt like they really cared about how the magazine and my poem worked together.

I wish more magazine editors believed, "Line-editing, specifically, deserves recognition as the essential part of the editor-poet relationship, and therefore must be preserved practice in the publication cycle of literary periodicals," as editor Suna Afshan of PBLJ does. She made my little poem seem important.

I have always dreamed of that sort of relationship with my eventual editor. That was what I was trained in when I started working with Joy Hendry at Chapman in Edinburgh. She spent time with each issue of the magazine, line editing, talking to the writers about her suggestions. Even more so with the poetry collections we published.

Another magazine Porridge has recently published my poem 'Yötön Yö' on their website with a lovely image. Midsummer seems a long way off now, but it's important to remember that time keeps moving on, summer will be here soon enough. I've enjoyed following the links at the bottom to other poems, discovering random gems with that method.  

But back to the Corona Virus outbreak: we've been social distancing for the week, me and my 4 kids stuck together, home schooling. It's been pretty tough. I keep seeing memes and advice from people telling me I should teach them to sew buttons or make homemade playdough or don't bother with home schooling, to let kids be kids. Finland doesn't work that way. They expect kids to long online in various methods for certain classes, to do specific work everyday. They all assign work for their classes. Every teacher is using different apps for notifications and collecting work, I'm exhausted from juggling it all. 

My son with special needs seems to have the most work, but this may be just because it takes him so much longer to do the work. He's been very good about it, but the stress of being out of school's comforting routine, fighting with the unfamiliar software and my new teaching methods and poor grip of Finnish is showing. I've already said to the two middle kids' English teacher that her homework is not a priority as their English skills will not be the ones that slip during a month of isolation, it will be the Finnish language. We're still reading in both languages and will maybe start a Virus Diary, pictures and wee notes about their lives at the moment, but I'm not going to worry too much.  

Overall, if we have time I'm giving them a chance to do what they want. I make sure we go out in the fresh air every day and have put up the trampoline to give them an outlet for their endless energy. They help with chores and making dinner, but I'm not trying to fill the day with educational or fun activities. We all need time to unwind. Hopefully, this upcoming week will be easier because we now have the schedule and a vague routine. 

I'm struggling to keep up on with my own course work. I'm a week behind in the work and  have very little time to do things for myself during the day. I spent all day yesterday, watching presentations and reading articles. I don't want to do anything today, but I have a 35-page mental health article I need to browse.

So my hopes of writing a King Lear-type masterpiece as the memes are suggestion is not happening. But I know all this adventure, stress and upheaval will collect in me, compost into some beautiful poems at a later date. I'm keeping my own journal and making notes. Something good will be created from all this. I'm trying not to stress, worry or pressure myself or the kids. We'll get through this. 

Interesting Times

'May you live in interesting times.' I wrote this quote in a notebook once, not knowing where it came from and what that would mean in the long run. It's possibly a curse and sometimes it feels just that.

I finally started my course, got some days back in work and then the Corona virus hit Finland properly. My sons have heavy head colds, so we're having to self-isolate for a week. I'm not worried, but it does make you think how our lives can change so quick. A year ago everything in my life was different. I'm happy to have moved forward and will continue to do just that, in my writing, in my career, with my kids, but sometimes it just feels overwhelming and inexplicable.

We'll spend the week doing homework together, going outside to enjoy the changing spring weather, keeping busy and getting through all this strangeness. Hopefully, without killing each other. 

The Corona Virus is going to require a lot of change, compromise, innovative thinking. A lot of writers will be losing out on work and money because events like readings, workshops and book launches will be cancelled. The writing community on Twitter is trying to support each other, offering to post information on each other's books and other threads to build camaraderie. Poetry Ireland is posting daily prompts, yeah! Bookshops are offering online sales, the Toledo Poetry Museum is doing an online open mic and I've even heard the suggestion of an online festival. Hopefully, by being isolated we can develop more connections.

This week, our writing group has moved online to avoid gathering in a very public venue. It was a fun change, but we all missed being together. I hope this is a short change and that those who are in self-isolation can find ways to get through. We're in this together. 

Wandering the Words

It's been a strange week. I still can't get on my course that started last week due to technical issues. My whole application has been wiped from the system. I have no clue what's going on. I haven't had any teaching work this week, so I feel like I'm on hold. I had hoped to do some writing, but I only managed to work on finishing poems, nothing new.

I did get to visit a lot of people I haven't seen in months because of work which was lovely, but I just felt restless. I'm hoping this week will be better. I need to move with some purpose.

There's an American poet in my writing group, the first poet we've had besides myself in a while. Last week she read a poem and it was so American. I can't explain why, the strong rhythm, the long line breaks, the subject, I don't know.  I clumsily tried to explain to her after her reading that it was like being back in my creative writing classes in Idaho or out in nature there with my fellow Forestry students.

It's odd, I liked the reading style, but again I didn't. Like most of America, it doesn't fit me anymore, but it's familiar and slightly comforting. Maybe too much so, I knew that poem, that voice as soon as she started, it took me somewhere I'd been. It made me understand why I struggle to get accepted by American magazines, my poems don't sound like that, don't have that feeling anymore. I want to explore more, I don't want to go back on that mountain path I'd walked before.

I also listened to some poems by Angela Carr on her website. She has a little Sound Cloud box at the bottom on the right hand side. Her style of reading also felt familiar, but more what I heard in university in Scotland where I really got into writing. Treading familiar boards of long halls rather than walking in the woods. 

It was lovely to experience both again, I don't listen to enough poetry. I've visited the Poetry Foundation website several times and they often have audio of their poems, many times read by the poet. You can hear their way they read it, where they place the emphasis, hear their way of walking through their words. I need to wander back. 

Dipping Back into Poetry

Some weeks, I feel myself moving further and further away from poetry, in order to earn money and care for my family. This isn't a lament. I've been very lucky to be able to take time off to raise my young kids when they needed me, to have a partner who supported me and to be able to use that time to write and build up a publishing record.

But occasionally I do see a ship I'd like to be on sailing away in the distance, a writing course I'd like to attend, an opportunity I cannot even consider. I wave to those lucky enough to take part and I turn back to my substitute teaching, my editing jobs, my attempts to re-train so I can improve my chances of finding work. There's a shadow of regret, but I have always liked a goal, moving towards a purpose, so I hope to make the most of this change of direction. And hard work, I relish a challenge, physical or mental, especially one with people on the sidelines saying I'm crazy for considering it.

I've been accepted into my SEN course, but I can't enroll properly because of someone technical glitch. It doesn't bode well for taking an online course. I'm still waiting to hear about my other course. I also need to figure out if I can teach, study and keep up with the kids. 

But I'm still keeping my toes in the poetry waters, writing occasionally, submitting, attending my poetry group. I've had a group of poems accepted by The Blue Nib this week, so I have that to look forward to. I could never give up writing completely. It always finds a way into my life. 

I've written the starts of two new poems this week. I feel like I'm writing in slow motion. I haven't finished any poems I've started this year and only finished 10 from last year. After writing everyday for so much of last year and writing so many poems, it's harder to get back into the flow. Once I actually clear my desk of work and admin, it's difficult to turn my head towards writing. The less attention I give it, the more I have to work at making time for it, to remember to take out my notebook rather than my phone, to not give into the tiredness on Friday night after work and go to my writing group where I usually have a bit of time beforehand to write. 

I'm back to where I was a year and a half ago when writing was work. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but it didn't come naturally, each line had to be pulled from me and shaped, rather than just me falling into a rhythm of writing as soon as I sat down.

Difference is, I know what is possible now. I couldn't believe then that I could write a draft of a poem daily, that it could be easy. Now, I know I need to make the effort to slot it in on days when I'm not teaching. I should also try to adapt to writing in the evening when the kids are in bed, but it's never been a natural time for me to work. But I've proven that this old horse can learn new tricks, so it won't hurt to try. 

I need to take advantage of the kids being out for another hour or so and do some proper writing. Enjoy the beginnings of spring.