What's happening at HappenStance
I find liking poetry more difficult than I used to. What a confession!
“As to the Adjective: When in doubt, strike it out.” So said Mark Twain in Pudd’nhead Wilson – and he knew a thing or two.
On my desktop I have a file titled To Do List AUGUST.
You're getting obsessed with chocolate.
The submissions window is shut. Here's what came through it.
Reading poetry in fathoms has a weird effect.
So this is what it's like.
So this is what I do during the reading window in July.
There’s value and there’s cost.
I have learned some gruesome things from poems.
How have I missed Louis MacNeice on minor poets until now?
The “first fine careless rapture” is startlingly loud just now. And it’s not the first.
Sometimes I feel almost like a real publisher.
. . . is still singing in my head.
“The god of grump” someone called him on a FaceBook thread recently. Old Larkin, old love.
I was in Wigtown, Scotand’s National Book Town. And I have something to confess.
Give me a poem starting ‘I remember’ and I will suggest you drop the first two words. And yet . . .
A good question . . .
Standing room only at the Torriano on Sunday - and now a double debut for Richard Osmond!
On Sunday evening, there will be a most unusual event. Probably unique, in fact.