Poetry written at Autscape 2023

I only got home from Autscape at 5.15pm on Thursday. It was amazing. I learnt so much from the most amazing people. It was a wonderful experience, among autistic people being themselves. People wondered around in a variety of clothing, with or without shoes. They joyfully engaged in games and arguments. I cried so much, from being overwhelmed by everything. I met some lovely people, played a great ttrpg campaign, and learned to spin from Jo the Spinner.

I’m still exhausted, so this might be a bit disjointed.

I attended two writing workshops at Autscape this week. I wrote several poems in the process, met some poets and writers, and a few Discworld fans. I am not the only Autistic person who thinks Sir Terry was Autistic!

The first writing workshop I went to was ‘NeurodiVERSE’ with Kate Fox and Janine Booth. I have a copy of Fox’s The Oscillations, and Booth’s Autism Equality in the Workplace: Removing Barriers and Challenging Discrimination. I bought a copy of NeurodiVERSE which they co-edited, and another poetry book from Kate Fox.

The first prompt was: In an ideal world

In an ideal world…

  • We wouldn’t need Autscape
  • We wouldn’t need this oasis of Auties, away from everyone else
  • The food would be better

In an ideal world…

  • Trees would dominate the world and lights wouldn’t buzz and sting
  • And libraries would be fully funded

In an ideal world…

  • I wouldn’t feel lost and alone, or lessened by their disbelief
  • I wouldn’t feel anger at every ‘but you don’t look autistic’

In an ideal world

  • I’d be in a swimming pool all the time
  • Or a never-ending bookshop.

We followed this with writing a list of things we want to communicate in poetry and then write a poem about it. I eventually chose my love of fantasy special editions.

Special Edition #1

Grinning glee in a box

Folded in bubble wrap

A new treasure, just for me

Squealing glee

What will I find?

Shining covers protecting pictures, smooth under hands.

Colours and textures feeding me information in skin and eyes.

A new treasure, just for me.

Crack it open, hear the paper slide, the binding creak.

A new treasure, just for me.

Ink and paper, shade and weight – just right!

The heft, the tone, the contrast – Just right!

Feel it, see it, smell it.

Inhale. Imbibe. Take it all in before I read a word.

End papers rich in colours. Edges Sprayed. Gold foil, unique designs.

Special Editions.

I love them all. New treasures, just for me.

Special Editions #2

Touch

  • Embossed covers
  • Smooth plastic
  • Rough paper
  • Weight in my hands
  • Weight on my fingers

Smell

  • New paper
  • Ink
  • Brown
  • The smell-taste of a newly opened special edition
  • Breathing in the microscopic particles of ink, cellulose, air from another place.

Sight

  • Rainbow paintings
  • Little pieces of art
  • Vibrant colours highlighted in gold
  • A story told before a word is read.
  • Sprayed edges and end papers – hints and chapters untold

Hearing

  • Blue glide on fingers ocver pritective plastic
  • Creak and crack of new books opening
  • Sandpaper slide and shift of page on page.

Taste

  • The taste-smell of a newly-opened special edition.
  • Breathing in microscopic particles of ink, cellulose, air taking me away to another place.

The second workshop was based on the Writing East Midlands Beyond the Spectrum creative writing workshops. It was meant to be run by Pippa Hennessy, but she wasn’t well and her wife Rachel (I’ve probably got her name wrong – she’s a lecturer at one of the universities on Nottingham) ran the workshop instead. In 2020 I interviewed for a shadow writer job on the Beyond the Spectrum project. I didn’t get it, obviously. However, I learnt some useful information from both the workshop on Wednesday and the discussion on Thursday. I’m running a weekly writing workshop at Neurospace in October to December for Faraway, and it turns out the Beyond the Spectrum are trying to find funding for a three-year project, rolled out across the country, and partner organisations to host the workshops. There might be a chance for us to work together in future.

Pippa and Rachel are lovely people.

The first poem I wrote had the prompt:

The best thing about being Autistic.

The best thing about being Autistic is my brain’s ability to make unexpected, often entertaining, and sometimes very weird connections between seemingly unconnected concepts, ideas, and events.
The best thing about being Autistic is monotropic flow – learning all the things – and monologuing – sharing all the things!
The best thing about being Autistic is knowing myself better, understanding how I process.
The best thing about being Autistic is hearing the birds sing, even when there’s traffic; smelling the changes in the weather; spotting the unexpected wildlife; touching the wind; tasting the sea on the air.
The best thing about being Autistic is senses that take in everything – when I’m out in nature.

The second exercise involved writing a list of things that bring me joy, then choose one to write notes about, describing it. Then we had to think about two people who don’t get it and write down what they might say. Finally, I had to write a poem or prose that will help people understand.

I chose the potato, because I’ve just harvested the first potaotes from the allotment.

Ode to the humble spud

Trodden into the dark, cold, wet earth, a mucky old spud.

Buried under layer after layer as leaves of emerald sprout, uncurl from the sodden clay. Only to disappear again.

Still you keep in growing, you, the seed potato, who in time becomes a multitude, seeding, growing, accidentally left in the ground.

Starch hoarded to feed the plants until sunlight and warmth return. Going mushy, rotting when you’re used up all your stores.

Don’t put a fork through it!

Leaves sprout and spread, stems lengthen and slouch against each other in ranks and squares

(And in the stack of tyres, because we had to use them for something).

Forgotten brethren appearing unexpected among the peas and sweetcorn. And the flower beds.

Roots swelling as flowers like stars bloom against a field-sky.

New potatoes from mud and a mucky old spud.

Some people were kind enough to say they enjoyed my poems when I read them out. I put a certain intonation into my reading, so it’s possible they found that entertaining rather than the actual work.

I hope you enjoyed them.

Coming up

Hey, dear readers, there’s going to be a bit of a change, due to the current pandemic. I have, as many know, a brain weasel issue that makes reading ebooks hard. (I also have various lurgies making me cough, snotty and generally feel rubbish, but as far as I know, it’s not COVID-19.) Unfortunately, due to the dreaded lurgy going around, many blog tours are now digital only.

So, much of this months content will be extract posts, with the odd review booked months ago thrown in.

  • Wednesday (6th) there will be an audiobook review of The Road Not Taken, by Paul Dodgson. This is a memoir of a musical life.
  • 16th – a book review of Black blood, by Jane Eddie. This is a post-Brexit dystopian novel of crime, murder and oil.
  • 22nd – sci fi in translation, The City Among The Stars, by Francis Carsac. I understand this is a Golden Age classic, first time in English. I’m looking forward to it, although the book hasn’t arrived yet.
  • 23rd – These Lost and Broken Things, by Helen Fields. Historical crime, looking forward to getting my teeth into it.
  • 26th – Girl with a gun, by Diama Nammi and Karen Attwood. A biography of Diama, a Kurdish woman who really upset the Iranian government (good for her!). I was originally getting a book for this but SARS-COV-2 decided to unleash itself on humanity so it’s the only ebook I’ll read this month. And that’s because I like Anne and had already agreed to do the review.
  • Currently, June and July are sparsely populated with extracts and promo posts. I apologise for the slow down in my usual review content. I have also had to refuse indie author reviews if they can’t send physical books, because of said disease and brain weasels. It’s a shame because I like supporting them.
  • Pen & Sword reviews will appear intermittently as I get through the towering piles.
  • There may be other books, I’m working my way through my personal TBR pile. I’m working through some of the ones I’ve already started but had to put down to complete blog tour obligations.

Ode to my TBR pile

I keep reading,

One, two, three, books on the left of my chair, books on the right of me

Books in the loo, books in the bedroom, books waiting to be read,

On the TBR pile.

I read and I read,

But it just keeps getting bigger.

There are so many good books, so many authors I need to read and support.

So many indie bookshops and publishers I want to help.

It is inevitable.

I will die surrounded by the books I never had the time to read.

What a cruel world!


So, random reviews might pop up. And, I promise, very little poetry.

Cover Reveal: ‘I Can See The Lights’, by Russ Litten

Blurb

The prose poems in I Can See The Lights are earthy and raw, but also incredibly sensitive. It’s pretty much guaranteed that more than one of them will bring you to tears. Characters are vividly brought to life, and stark but warm environments evoked in a down to earth, yet almost painterly manner by Russ Litten’s uncompromising voice.

Tales of home, of un-belonging, of strife at sea – of a northern city’s beating heart. Told in a mesmeric, stripped-down tone, this collection is a work of genius.

Continue reading “Cover Reveal: ‘I Can See The Lights’, by Russ Litten”

Poem: I should have known

I should have realised
Long ago
There’s something a little off 
About me.

Everyone knew how
To act
To react
To interact
Inate instructions calling time
Picking up the rules and the rhyme.

No one told me the rules of the game
Or even that we were playing, with
No choice but to play.

I learnt the rules, or a strange
Version thereof from
Books.

Because nobody bothered to sit down
And explain the rules of the game, or
that I had to play.

So when i say or do
The wrong thing, try remembering
You knew the rules, how to act, interact, react,
And I’m still learning with every book I read.

 

 

I wrote a poem last night, it’s had some compliments from a number of people. I’m quite pleased with the metaphor and hopefully it gets the message across.

Review: ‘When Science Collapses’, by Christopher Hivner

Author website here

Publisher’s website here

Publication Date: 31st December 2016

Published By: Writing Knights Press

ISBN9781541337237

Format: Paperback chapbook

Price: $8.00

 

 

 

 

My Review

Christopher Hivner contacted me a week or so ago, and asked if I’d review his chapbook, When Science Collapses and I agreed. I do enjoy reading poetry now and then. The book arrived very quickly, yesterday while I was packing my house up to move in two weeks. It managed to survive the packing process so I’ve had a chance to read it earlier than I expected.

I enjoyed the poems, although poetry isn’t my speciality. They mix personal experience with scientific concepts for affecting results. A small book of only 23 poems, each poem causes the reader to stop and ponder the connections between life events and scientific concepts.

3/5

NaNoWriMo 2016 has begun

And I’m not doing it this year. I want to focus on finishing my novel and editing the first two if I get the chance, plus I’m helping a friend by editing her novel and I have that MA to study for.

However, as a treat I’ve written a poem. I came up with this one early this morning, blame lack of sleep if it’s terrible.

I have questions, by Rosemarie Cawkwell

I have questions, about the universe mainly.
I’ve always wanted to know, but no one will tell me,
If the universe is expanding, what is it expanding in to?
If I stood on the bow wave of spacetime, what would I see?
Anything? Nothing?
The Void?
What is the Void, Nothingness, Infinity?
If I stood in the Void, which isn’t possible,
I know,
And looked back at our Universe, what would I see?
A perfect sphere, uniform,
A ball of spacetime rolling through the Void,
Or a splat spreading out at different rates.
Would I see other universes rolling through the Void?
Bumping in to ours as both expand?
I have so many questions, and nobody will answer them for me.

 

 

I actually have spent at least two decades trying to work out what the universe is expanding in to and I’ve yet to get an answer from anyone. I’m reading a book at the minute called ‘The Substance of Spacetime’ (I’ll be reviewing it next week, possibly, depends on how busy I get) and I still haven’t got my answers.

Good luck to everyone doing NaNoWriMo this year, I know that some of my fellow MA students are also taking on the challenge whilst studying and I wish them all the best.

 

Local Authors Reviewed: Part One

As you may remember, a few weeks ago I went to a local authors event to do some networking and get opinions on the best self-publishing platform and was given four books by local authors to review. Here are the first three.

As always, I received these in return for honest reviews. I am going to be very honest. Sorry.

Selected Poems, by Michael Nilsen (poetry)

Published by: Matador

Publication Date: October 2015

ISBN: 9781784624705

Price:£9.99

A collection of poems written over a 22 year period and covering a range of themes including nature, autobiography and surrealism.

My Review

The nature poems were the most affecting and well-written, with great imagination. Unfortunately most of the poems didn’t move me all that much although they could have a different effect on other people. Poetry is subjective like that.

The Crooked Link, by David Evardson (General adult fiction)

Published by:Self-published

Publication date: 2016

ISBN: 9781522901259

Price:Unknown

Stanley is a crook, a crook who happens to have stolen money from an even bigger crook in London. When he turns up in Cleethorpes with a plan to buy a house, if he can sell his London flat first. A chain of buyers and sellers build but the chain is only as strong as it’s weakest link, and this link is crooked.

My Review

The plot is good but the execution needs work. It feels like a first novel even though the author has written several books before. It doesn’t quite ring true enough to become immersed in the plot, although the attempt at local dialect is good.

Marikka, by Sam Hawksmoor (children’s fiction)

Published by: Hammer & Tong UK

Publication Date: 2015

ISBN: 9781511994224

Price: Unknown

Marikka flees from an arson attack on her home to the sea, where she meets Mika – a runaway working for a sinister, scarred man hiding from the world. Meanwhile her father, long thought dead, searches for her with the aide of ‘the girl who can read objects’.

My Review

The plot reminds me of an Enid Blyton novel that has been modernised, including the sinister, mysterious villains and the evil step-father. I really quite enjoyed it and I admit to bawling like a baby at end. I liked the main characters, the plot was good, the chapter titles funny and the writing fluent. There were editing errors, e.g. instance instead of instant, minor things I had to parse to get the gist of the sentence but nothing that a re-edit won’t fix. Definitely a good one for the young teenager before they move on to more challenging books.


I have just one other book to read, For the love of Emily by Joy Wood. I haven’t started it yet but I will soon. The books are piling up again on my to be read list. I’ve been working on craft projects and writing assignments. Before I start University at the end of September I want to get the non-fiction assignments of my Writer’s Bureau course completed. I’m almost done, I have one task left to do on the final non-fiction assignment, and I shall tackle that tomorrow.

For those following the Saga of the Bath, finally today, after nine and a half weeks, the landlord sent a plumber to replace the old bath with a shiny new one. Or, I should say, the letting’s agent did. I intend to wallow in that thing tomorrow morning.