I am fairly woeful at self-promotion, having long tended to the view that I don't particularly wish to impose myself unsolicited upon people (as it's something I find aggravating when done to me)and so my books, when they infrequently appear, tend to sidle apologetically into existence with little to no fanfare. It's amazing that I'm not better known, I know. That said, I suppose that in these days of social media saturation, the cacophony is so great that it doesn't really add that much to the general cacophonous boosterism if I stick my hand up too and say Oi! I've got a sodding book out!
Well, pamphlet, to be precise. And here it is. A sequence of 99 short poems inspired by Georges Perec's "Two hundred and forty three postcards in Real Colour". I've long been a fan of Perec's attention to the minutiae of daily life, and his ability to organise the quotidian, observing day to day life on its own terms. This, however, is not exactly what I've done with these poems, and by not exactly I mean not in the slightest.
It's a travelogue, of sorts, but mostly an imaginary one, some of it is based in my family history, some of it is social commentary, some poems are references to something I was working on at the time,some poems are simply jokes. You could read it as a love letter, you could read it as working through grief, you could read it as a sequence about life changing around you, it does all these, I think.
Given the glacial pace at which I work, fitting the writing in as I do round work and family life (I think I wrote the first of these about five years ago), some of the commentary is already dated (a reference to the Scottish independence referendum, if you please), but I rather like this, each poem is a snapshot of either a time, a place or an event, and each poem (or postcard) exists entirely on its own terms, but, taken as whole, they add up to something which I'm really pretty pleased with. Working in highly condensed forms precludes waffle, it makes you get to the point and it contains its own energy, it's hard to lag when you're only writing three lines.
So, introductions over, I submit for your approval 99 Postcards for Georges Perec. I rather hope you like it.
(NB whilst I'm here, if you're sat there scratching your head going "wait, what, he writes poetry? I thought this blog was mostly rants about how ghastly the Tories are" I do indeed, this is actually the third one, you can, should you so desire, get your mitts on the first two here and here)
Well, pamphlet, to be precise. And here it is. A sequence of 99 short poems inspired by Georges Perec's "Two hundred and forty three postcards in Real Colour". I've long been a fan of Perec's attention to the minutiae of daily life, and his ability to organise the quotidian, observing day to day life on its own terms. This, however, is not exactly what I've done with these poems, and by not exactly I mean not in the slightest.
It's a travelogue, of sorts, but mostly an imaginary one, some of it is based in my family history, some of it is social commentary, some poems are references to something I was working on at the time,some poems are simply jokes. You could read it as a love letter, you could read it as working through grief, you could read it as a sequence about life changing around you, it does all these, I think.
Given the glacial pace at which I work, fitting the writing in as I do round work and family life (I think I wrote the first of these about five years ago), some of the commentary is already dated (a reference to the Scottish independence referendum, if you please), but I rather like this, each poem is a snapshot of either a time, a place or an event, and each poem (or postcard) exists entirely on its own terms, but, taken as whole, they add up to something which I'm really pretty pleased with. Working in highly condensed forms precludes waffle, it makes you get to the point and it contains its own energy, it's hard to lag when you're only writing three lines.
So, introductions over, I submit for your approval 99 Postcards for Georges Perec. I rather hope you like it.
(NB whilst I'm here, if you're sat there scratching your head going "wait, what, he writes poetry? I thought this blog was mostly rants about how ghastly the Tories are" I do indeed, this is actually the third one, you can, should you so desire, get your mitts on the first two here and here)
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