Video Output: Golden Mile

For the last couple of months there’s been a project on that I’ve not talked about that much, because it has taken most of my ability and brainpower to ensure it gets made. Now that a routine has been established, it’s time to relax a bit and step back. Welcome to the World of Me, finally establishing myself as a YouTube Creative.

I’d played around with poetry for a while using imagery: this included a couple of poems for Dreich TV, which have yet to see the proper light of day but are likely to do so as one-off specials over the Summer. Everything is currently available on YouTube, and the plan going forward is to use more of my back catalogue, where items have appeared in anthologies or elsewhere, as a basis to create new canvases. There’s a lot to work from now, which is lovely.

Therefore, we’ll be double-teaming online hashtag prompts and video on the site across the summer… but August is also the Sealey Challenge, which asks people to read a poetry book a day. I have a lot of work to pile through and am already planning the read list… it will be a pleasant change from worrying about my own output!

We’ll also do some blogging on this next month too. See you there 😀

The Craft: Output

For the last six months, I have been trying to use software as a means by which I can keep track of my poetry submissions. It all fell apart last month when I realized it was harder work to keep tabs on everything electronically when I’m sad my work just got rejected via email. It’s a solid approach, though: many people do this with spreadsheets or on paper. As a result, I have decided that instead of tech, I need to go back to basics. Therefore, after some poking around stationary websites, we have an answer.

Back to the Old Ways we go…

Yup, it’s time to write everything on index cards. As I’m not sure if this is gonna work, it was the plan initially to get stuff that’s recyclable. If it does work, Ideally, I’d love to get some old style wooden storage boxes instead, but let’s see if we can stick to the game plan first. I’ll be starting the process of reorganizing everything next week. I’ve managed to break everything down into manageable groups this time, and then it is just about keeping the system current. It matters because I have quite a bit of work now.

It also means I need to begin categorizing my work more precisely, which in itself was half the reason why I failed to keep everything up to date previously. After all, you never know when someone might turn up and want to publish my work… 😛

The Craft: Education

This week I come to the end of a nine-week writing course, which has involved directly reading and understanding a particular author, writing pieces based on their work and your reaction to it, and finally listening to the author talk about their craft. It’s a very potent combination of stimulus and education, and for me, it’s been one of the hardest things I have ever done as a creative. None of this has to do with the content, far from it. Most of the issues have been as a result of what the environment stimulated within me.

I did not come to sessions to be triggered by prompts, but it happened right off the bat. This has been a problem in previous online workshop interactions too, and remains one of the reasons why in-person residential or events can be fraught with anxiety for me. In the end, however, I did not do what has previously been the case and walk away. I leant into everything, as much as was possible. It’s a measure of how I have progressed mentally in the last year that this has resulted in some of the best work I’ve ever produced.

However, for the first time, it isn’t just the words that have altered. My relationship with the people I was learning with has been quite different from previous instances. A lot of this has to do with the personalities, but mostly it is the willingness to share honestly that has really made the difference. The original group of ‘students’ dropped quite quickly, too, which was a surprise to me. If I am paying for a course, why would I abandon it without it having been finished? This makes no sense to me. Regardless of detail, I have met some new mutuals on this journey and am VERY happy about it.

This has been a really significant period of my writing life, and the effects will be felt for quite some time to come.

Adventures in Babysitting

It’s been a Week. The two Open Mics were more successful than I could possibly have imagined. From one, a recommendation from a hero to submit. From the other? I’m pretty certain it earned me the chance to spend 15 minutes on the Big Kid’s Table…

In Full Disclosure News, I made the poster, because it might be a while before anyone else puts my face on anything, and you take the chances whenever they arise. Questions need to be asked next week as to a) how long I do in fact get to read, b) whether its in the first half or second and c) if graphics can be used. I think the last one is the least important right now, but am seriously thinking about the possibility of presentation. Maybe that happens when it’s just me doing both halves…

I’ll be talking more about this in the weeks leading up to the event, but needless to say, a LOT of publicity is going to happen. It is the least I can do as thanks for the opportunity. Having never read for longer than five minutes before?

This undoubtedly is a game changer.

The Bigger Picture: Exercise

From time to time, I will feel the need going forward to write about other things than poetry.

According to the way in which BMI is measured I am, right now, eligible for the above programme.

Except, I am in the best shape of my entire adult life, can deadlift 65 kg and bench press close to 45 kg. I still get breathless going upstairs at certain times of the day, because of the way my body works. In essence, I’m a train: it needs a while for me to get going, and then I can work for hours. It’s also taken nearly six years of incredibly painful, mental and physical challenge to get this far, and to understand what one body is capable of achieving. 12 weeks of support, to be honest, seems like a bit of an insult. Being healthy needs to become a full-time commitment, and trying to make schemes best fit for most people is often doomed to failure.

Exercise is also not the answer for everyone. Throwing terms like ‘fat’ and ‘thin’ about is insulting to so many, and using BMI as a benchmark is increasingly being cited as a damaging and dangerous. The key, undoubtedly, are measurements like biometrics, and a genuine understanding that not all human beings are born the same. I’ll never be ‘normal’, after all, because my body’s a lot longer than most people’s and my legs are shorter than many others, and it is high time that we stop using old-fashioned labels to try and define fitness. I really hope in the next 10 years that there’s a move away from ‘wellness’ as a visually-defined ideal. People are not all created equal.

My last Biometric reading, before Christmas 2021

Since I started at my gym, as you can see, I’ve put on nearly 10 kilos. Most people go to exercise in order to lose weight as a path to health and fitness. Not me. I’m here to fulfil my weightlifting ambitions, and become a better cyclist. In the last six years I’ve completed numerous bike events (including Ride London) and last year I completed my first 10 km run. In all this time, there’s been a running battle between body and brain, one that has lost me friends and caused numerous amounts of emotional grief. You are not exercising to fulfil someone else’s idea of happy, or indeed fit. You should be doing it to give yourself happiness, with an improved quality of life.

If exercise does not do this, the answer may not lie in being what other people think is acceptable or beautiful, and this is why I think more Gyms need to be putting mental health front and centre in their wellness plans. What is it that stops you from achieving your goals? Why do you eat in the first place? What changes would you like to make, not only to be healthier, but to feel mentally more capable of changing your life? Just giving someone 12 weeks to change and no support or motivation to do so is not helpful. I’d love to see more Personal Trainers with Mental Health First Aid qualifications, and more Pharmacists with the same.

This has never just been about eating less and exercising more, even though that’s basically the point you need to reach to succeed.

At the start of the month, my Gym awarded me the title PT Hero after deciding that I’d worked quite hard and deserved some recognition. They presented me this in a packed exercise class, which was good practice for the day when I do indeed win a Poetry Award and I don’t crumble to dust with the attention. It also made me realize that, in all my adult life, I never really felt I’d achieved something until someone else took the time to tell me so. I have medals, I’ve fundraised over £1000 for mental health charities, but nothing thus far feels as important as this, and that’s odd when I spend a lot of time not getting worried about other people.

It makes me ask the question: why does this matter? Normally I’d take time to work that out but not today. Achievement and representation are not the same thing. For decades, I hated exercise, found it hard and stressful, because I could not push past the idea I had to look and act a certain way. Once the tyranny of appearance was dealt with, and once I started seeing women like me being given greater prominence in the wider world, it was easier to believe that this was acceptable, that I could be the strong, capable woman I had always wanted to be but never known where to find.

All the awards in the world are not as important as being respected and encouraged as a strong and capable person.

I am tired of the manufactured Influencer outlook, so many people have, on life. I want to hear about failure, and stress and concerns because only by knowing other people feel like we do does anyone ever get anywhere. It’s not about being at the top of a pile and looking down: we all need to lift each other up, help collectively to improve life and wellbeing for everyone. If my Award inspires someone, if my exercise chat makes someone thing or maybe just sharing the Sky article changes someone’s view, it’s worth talking about. I am also tired of people shouting at each other, as if knowing the ‘right’ answer will help everybody in the long run anyway.

We need to stop telling, and start showing what matters most.

How To Twitter #2: The Only Way is @-ing…

#2 in a series of How to Improve your Twitter Gameplay: The Only Way is @-ing…

I never really used to grasp how Twitter makes conversations you think are mutual end up as genuinely one-sided, until I started participating in group experiences. The assumption is that if someone presses ‘Follow’ that they’re reading what you’re saying.

INCORRECT ANSWER.

There are so many other factors at play: where they read your tweets (app/browser) and how that is set up. It also assumes that you’re not muted, which can often happen if you’re a prolific tweeter. Take it from someone who’s been told this to their face. It happens. The ONLY way you guarantee that someone is following you has read a tweet you’ve made is by including their @/username in a tweet. Never, EVER forget this. This can also be a useful way to ascertain whether you are also muted, if that is something that you need to know.

We follow people for lots of reasons: often in the hope that will, in turn, grant us a larger following ourselves. I’m not lying when I say I can manage about 600 people’s responses, and that’s the limit. If people are following as many people as they follow? They’re not listening. If it really matters that you talk to someone? Twitter is really not the place to do it. It’s great for random interactions, and for casual advertising. Make it anything else and the chances are it will get messy. If you are lucky enough to have decent friendships and engagement?

But seriously, honestly, truthfully, you are VERY LUCKY INDEED. Also, if you are investing a lot of emotional significance into ‘interactions’ where you are doing the majority of interacting? The chances are it’s a one way relationship. Make your choices with care. Again, take it from a fool.

TL;DR: if you want to guarantee an answer to a Tweet from that person you want to impress? Use their username.

If you get silence when you do?

Sometimes, that’s how we know that the importance we place in an interaction is not the same as how another person sees it.

/ends

Originally tweeted by Another 🗨️ Reeson 💭 to start 2022 💬 STRONGER (@InternetofWords) on January 15, 2022.

One Hour a Day

We’re almost ten days into 2021 and currently, I’m drafting 3-4 poems a day. This would appear, on casual investigation, to be both unsustainable and frankly ridiculous, when nothing is further from the truth. The source of all this creative fervour isn’t a change in diet or some wonderful exercise programme. It’s 9-10am in front of a screen, being inspired by the creative forces behind the Kendal Poetry Festival.

For me and about 150 other poets, The Writing Hours [Resolution/Revolution] is granting permission for us, as writers, to intentionally take time for ourselves every day in order to be stimulated and encouraged by reading other people’s work and participating in group activities. There is no formal structure, no workshops or feedback. It is just us, a pen or a screen, and wherever the mood pushes Kim and Clare to go.

It is also useful to know that an outstanding, emerging poet such as Hannah is also gaining so much from what’s being given, freely and often with a great deal of honesty and earnestness. It’s not just the facilitators who you’ll learn from, too. I’ve picked up countless nuggets of useful information from the chat room, and there’s already a Facebook group for those people who want to share their work to an understanding audience.

I’ll be honest, I’m being very selective on what gets shared. The work being generated personally is in my mind so good, that some of it has already been submitted to other places. One particular poem I would go so far as to say is the best narrative piece I’ve ever written, and as a result is now forming the foundation of the first serious sci-fi sub to a specialist magazine.

One of the two poems in the new Podcast also came from these sessions last week.

It is still possible to get tickets for Week Two onwards (use this link) and if you have a few spare pennies lying about it would not be hyperbole to state this is a fantastic way to start your day, not simply in the right mindset but with the benefit of a group of like-minded individuals to work and support you. If you’d have told me I’d be in a room of 150 people every day, starting my year like this a year ago, I’d have not believed you.

I’m already working out how to keep the momentum going once this all ends on February 1st.

Dean Friedman is Following Me on Twitter

Back in March 2020, just before the first lockdown hit, something happened that, it must be said, made me realize that whatever other people might try and attest, Twitter will never be anything other than one of the best things that ever happened to me. The story I am about to recount was first told on my personal blog, but is being repeated here again because, finally, I’ve begun to write the poem whose title is the same as this blog post. It’ll hopefully be done this month and then, I will share it with everyone.

Meanwhile… I feel some time travelling coming on…

Imagine, if you will, it is 1977.

I am 11 years old. I hear a song on the radio for the first time that immediately captures my attention: Ariel. It’s by a bloke called Dean Friedman: an American singer-songwriter, for whom that is, at the time, his only ‘major’ US hit. However, this is not about success, but quirkiness catching both my ear and that of a Radio One DJ I listen to obsessively: Noel Edmunds. Thanks to him, I am compelled to seek out Friedman’s second album ‘Well, Well’ Said the Rocking Chair and shortly afterwards I become obsessed with one particular track.

I still carry that same song with me, to this day.

It remains the quintessentially perfect piece of narrative storytelling: a breakup song to end all breakup songs, but not obsessing on what’s been lost, but how to pull yourself together after the fact. It’s uplifting and smart and has the most killer saxophone solo in the middle, but what keeps it fresh in my head after forty years are these four lines of poetry which, let’s be honest, have never been bettered:

Take a look at the place you call your home
you’re reflected in all the things you own
and the seeds of reason you have sown
they’re a measure of a part of you that’s already grown…

Not gonna lie: for a good few years I literally carried those lyrics around with me too, wound tight inside a tea ball locket. I am happy to reveal that to you, dear readers, because I know we’re at that stage in our relationship now. It’s remains on a playlist that gets listened to weekly, and has been stuck into numerous other best of compilations over the years. When I inserted it into an online one back in March 2020 which was posted on Twitter, things started getting funky…

I can still remember the complete, abject disbelief when I first saw this on screen. Not only had the man whose song I’d made into a mantra for moving forward liked the fact I’d highlighted the song in my playlist, HE WAS NOW FOLLOWING ME. How was this possible, exactly? I didn’t @ him, he wasn’t directly mentioned in dispatches, but here he was, and remains. Dean’s still working online and playing gigs and has new songs out as I type this. You might move away from the people who influence you, but those people remain a constant regardless. In all the chaos we’ve now collectively experienced, it’s good to know Mr F remains one of the good guys.

I promised I’d write ‘Dean Friedman is Following Me of Twitter’ nearly a year ago, and the draft is still there, waiting for the right moment… and here I am, starting 2022 on a high. It seems the right moment to pay back a debt, too, so time and effort will be taken to ensure the final result is the right, fair and correct summation both of the story and his connection back to an 11 old girl who knew that, some day in their future, words would matter like nothing else ever could.

It’s taken a while, but I think I’m ready to do my pre-teen self proper justice.

Trouble’s Coming

I’ve just spent the last six days cycling 500km for the annual Rapha Festive 500: that, for me, was about eighteen hours on a bike where I had a lot of spare thinking time. Last year, when the event was completed for the first time, no spare brain capacity existed, so hard was it that my whole was totally wiped for about a week afterwards. The difference between 2020 and now is considerable, remaining testament to where I am in terms of progress that there has been writing done between those sessions. It’s also been a period when future plans have begun to coalesce.

It continues to bother me how much of progress we decide to mark against other people, and never in relation to ourselves. If you’ve not got the badge, the leaderboard placement or the acceptance of your peers, have you even done anything worthwhile at all? Exercise, with its undoubtedly obsessive business of recording statistical achievement, has taught me a lot about how people define their success over the last few years. Selling your progress is a business too, and it’s been really insightful when I’ve begun to critically assess my place in the writing world.

… but actually, *did you*…?

All of this navel-gazing is as a direct result of having pulled something together for a Poetry Contest. I’ve discovered of late that if the subject of the submission or money making affair is anything other than ‘write what you want’ I tend to struggle, because the neurodiverse in my brain will undoubtedly fixate on a very, VERY specific part of the larger whole. Therefore, undoubtedly I’m setting myself up for failure, and becoming poorer for it as a result… except that’s not the entire story. Every contest entry is the literal equivalent of sticking a donation in the regional poetry charity donation box, and in the current climate, helping people across the country should be a priority for everyone.

I was on a writing course last year when the facilitator suggested that we all like the idea that just one poem could change our lives. It’s that whole ‘rags to riches’ mentality that does seem to fuel the majority of people’s aspirations: after all, were I to win the National Poetry Contest, it would mean that more people than the 600 or so currently following me on social media might have an interest in my fortunes long term. The problem with such manifestations however is the statistical likelihood that you’ll win anything to begin with. Except, as it transpires, my first publication was a contest win. No, really, go read it now.

As a result of this life-changing event in 2018 (and it totally was, make absolutely no mistake about it) I am about to hit Year Five of this particular endeavour. When I look back on the past half decade of attempting to get words to accurately represent what I am, The Beast in Cyberspace still shines bright as an example of me, doing what I do best. I’ve always been a mimic, and most of my life is inextricably linked with computing and the virtual world. As a calling card, it remains a perfect descriptor for my strengths and ability. I worked that out on a bike this week, and going forward there needs to be less worrying about what other people are producing, and more focus on personal strengths.

Needless to say, this is a Resolution I’m already working on ahead of time…

Black and White Town

I’m beginning the slow process of returning myself to full ‘working’ capability this week, which means if you are subbed to the Newsletter that accompanies this website, you’ll be getting a message in your Inbox tomorrow offering you FREE STUFF. For now, however, the last seven days have been about forward motion, plus setting up new processes for our restart in September.

I don’t allow myself nearly enough time to dream any more, and being the kind of person who can rationalize failure before there’s even a chance for success is a pretty decent means by which all joy can be sucked from situations. However, with my work turning up on a Podcast this weekend, it does feel a lot like I’m making clear, unassailable progress. Even I’d struggle to make this anything more than a win, so this then begs the question of what to do next.

There’s been a piece this week that’s pushed mind and body out of the comfort zone as a result: it’s part prose poetry, part pure poem, and covers a part of my life I don’t really talk about very much, mostly because I’ve never really thought about it that much. Doing so this week therefore has been an exercise in using my newly-found objectivity to rationalize what was one of the most frightening experiences of my life. As it transpires, that also makes for quite interesting reading.

It also allows me to think about a return to Podcasting, which I’ve really rather missed. Let’s see if I can persuade enough people next month that I’m worth both the time and the support…

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