Published by Bloodaxe, The World Record is an anthology featuring one poem by each of the poets who were selected to participate in Poetry Parnassus. Entries are arranged alphabetically by country; the biographical notes following the main body of the book are also arranged by country, while an index allows the reader to search by poet (sur)name. There's also an introductory note by Simon Armitage, and a preface by anthology co-editor and festival organiser Anna Selby. Apart from its obvious function as a reference publication, the book also serves as a valuable memento for those who have attended what has been a unique and vibrant gathering of poets.
My contribution to The World Record is 'The Impressionists'. It's taken from the-now-totally-sold-out Round the Clock, and was first published in Succour's issue 6 (The Future).
An interactive map through which you can 'visit' each country and read its representative's featured poem is available on The Guardian website.
Showing posts with label succour. Show all posts
Showing posts with label succour. Show all posts
Sunday, 8 July 2012
Monday, 4 April 2011
'Genius or Not' writing project
A little over a year ago, a group of writers who had previously appeared in Succour magazine, as well as a small number selected through open submissions to Succour's abandoned issue 11 (February 6, 2010), were invited to introduce to their writing practice an exercise that would come to be known as Genius or Not - following the example of Harry Mathews who, in 1980, attempted to overcome writer's block by committing to produce "twenty lines a day, genius or not" for a period of one year (himself following an exhortation that Stendhal once made to himself). Harry Mathews went on to publish the results in his book 20 Lines a Day (Dalkey Archive Press).
Each writer was asked to commit to at least one writing session per month lasting no more than one hour, which would yield a prose piece of no more than 500 words or a poem of no more than 20 lines, and whose contents would not have been preconceived in any way. The result would then be posted for publication within a day or two.
The project has so far amassed around 150 texts. Some of the writers who initially agreed to participate decided at different times and for various reasons to withdraw. Genius or Not has now gone live, carrying all the pieces already posted. The project is ongoing, and texts will continue to be added by the participating writers as they are being composed.
The title of each text is the date of its composition, and each is given up to five tags by its writer relating to its subject matter. There are therefore various ways of reading the texts on Genius or Not, such as chronologically, by specific writer, or by subject through the system of tags.
In addition to appearing on the website, the entries will feed onto the wall of the Genius or Not Facebook page, while the project can also be followed on Twitter.
*
To date I have contributed 12 pieces to Genius or Not. I discussed in an earlier post how the constraints placed on the act of writing while producing these texts have begun to have an effect on my writing practice.
The intermingling of styles, approaches and concerns present in the project is fascinating. Its brief means that elements of time and chance impact on each individual writer to produce a wide array of texts and a hypnotic overall pattern. The texts hang somewhere between journal entries, notes towards a poem or a story and fully-realised pieces. As the project continues, and with new writers coming on board - an injection of fresh blood will be sought at some stage in the future - it promises to evolve further.
Each writer was asked to commit to at least one writing session per month lasting no more than one hour, which would yield a prose piece of no more than 500 words or a poem of no more than 20 lines, and whose contents would not have been preconceived in any way. The result would then be posted for publication within a day or two.
The project has so far amassed around 150 texts. Some of the writers who initially agreed to participate decided at different times and for various reasons to withdraw. Genius or Not has now gone live, carrying all the pieces already posted. The project is ongoing, and texts will continue to be added by the participating writers as they are being composed.
The title of each text is the date of its composition, and each is given up to five tags by its writer relating to its subject matter. There are therefore various ways of reading the texts on Genius or Not, such as chronologically, by specific writer, or by subject through the system of tags.
In addition to appearing on the website, the entries will feed onto the wall of the Genius or Not Facebook page, while the project can also be followed on Twitter.
*
To date I have contributed 12 pieces to Genius or Not. I discussed in an earlier post how the constraints placed on the act of writing while producing these texts have begun to have an effect on my writing practice.
The intermingling of styles, approaches and concerns present in the project is fascinating. Its brief means that elements of time and chance impact on each individual writer to produce a wide array of texts and a hypnotic overall pattern. The texts hang somewhere between journal entries, notes towards a poem or a story and fully-realised pieces. As the project continues, and with new writers coming on board - an injection of fresh blood will be sought at some stage in the future - it promises to evolve further.
Wednesday, 17 November 2010
So, What Happened to Succour?
Succour's managing editor Anthony Banks writes:
Succour ran for five years and ten issues from 2004 to 2009. During this period it was the UK’s most exciting journal of new fiction, poetry and art – “a Granta for the Facebook generation” according to Time Out. Succour's editors in London, Manchester, Brighton, Exeter and Dublin were committed to seeking out and publishing the very best new writing and artwork.
Succour’s contributors could be roughly divided into three categories. The first was writers who had never had any work published before, who we discovered either through open submissions, at public readings, or on the recommendation of other writers. Then there were writers who had published one or two collections or novels, but who were still in a sense emerging writers and whose work we wanted to bring to a wider audience. We also published new work by more established writers, or writers with a cult following, who we invited to contribute to the journal.
Succour was always keen to explore the relationship between literature and visual arts, publishing texts and images by artists including Becky Beasley, Raphael Zarka, Eva Stenram, Eline McGeorge and Daniel Arsham.
In 2010 a group of writers who had appeared in Succour over the years were invited to take part in a new online project titled Genius or Not. This project is currently under development and will be online by the end of 2010.
Succour ran for five years and ten issues from 2004 to 2009. During this period it was the UK’s most exciting journal of new fiction, poetry and art – “a Granta for the Facebook generation” according to Time Out. Succour's editors in London, Manchester, Brighton, Exeter and Dublin were committed to seeking out and publishing the very best new writing and artwork.
Succour’s contributors could be roughly divided into three categories. The first was writers who had never had any work published before, who we discovered either through open submissions, at public readings, or on the recommendation of other writers. Then there were writers who had published one or two collections or novels, but who were still in a sense emerging writers and whose work we wanted to bring to a wider audience. We also published new work by more established writers, or writers with a cult following, who we invited to contribute to the journal.
Succour was always keen to explore the relationship between literature and visual arts, publishing texts and images by artists including Becky Beasley, Raphael Zarka, Eva Stenram, Eline McGeorge and Daniel Arsham.
In 2010 a group of writers who had appeared in Succour over the years were invited to take part in a new online project titled Genius or Not. This project is currently under development and will be online by the end of 2010.
Saturday, 11 September 2010
Writing and Corruption
The question of 'sincerity' or 'authenticity' in writing, and whether it exists or is even desirable, is something that has been concerning me more and more. I am being forced to mull over it again after reading Michael Kindellan's essay "'The Labor of Revision': George Oppen's Sincerity" published in the current issue of The Wolf. Kindellan writes: "It is the nature of Oppen's 'test' to reject as insincere anything which is already known at the time of writing; which is to say anything unlearned during the process of writing itself is corrupt."
I am also halfway through Melissa Lee-Houghton's book Patterns of Mourning (Chipmunka Publishing, 2009). A book-length 'poetic diary' comprised of a series of 'songs' or epistles to various persons, it is a difficult read in terms of the circumstances of its composition and subject matter ("I wrote this book while undergoing what was later termed a Mixed Affective Episode, as a diagnosed Manic Depressive since the age of 15" writes Lee-Houghton in her foreword) but mostly because it disregards the rules of narrative or even syntax - threads break off and come back in snatches, tenses and subjects change unexpectedly, the identity of the addressee shifts constantly - as well as the conventions of what's termed 'confessional writing'. It is also an exhilarating read, and it contains some astonishing poetry that lights up masses of material which often looks and sounds like the unsorted outpourings of a stretched mind, a mind which nevertheless remains alert to its position and use of language. In her foreword, Lee-Houghton also writes that much of the book was composed "on the underside of letters, the backs of my hands and arms and all over my clothes, on train tickets, in public computer terminals, on walls..." and argues against "the idea that as individuals a loss of control or emotional stability is something which should bring about shame and humiliation".
Melissa Lee-Houghton and I are two of around 30 writers participating in the 'Genius or Not' online project, which invites its contributors to compose short pieces of off-the-cuff prose or poetry (nothing already considered or worked on) written on particular days of our choosing, and to publish them shortly afterwards and with minimal revising. The project is curated by Succour's managing editor Anthony Banks and is an offshoot of the responses to the 'theme' proposed by Anthony for Succour's abandoned issue 11 (6 February 2010). 'Genius or Not' is currently under way, with work pouring in almost daily, though the website that will be carrying it has not yet gone live.
'Genius or Not' is an exercise that forces me to resist the intensive (and sometimes self-conscious) re-drafting of my original notes towards a poem. Paradoxically, being aware of the imposed constraints at the point of composition, these notes becomes contaminated by an urge to find their raison d’être. So they become less 'sincere' or 'authentic' than the notes I would usually begin poems from. I have tried to circumvent this by introducing additional constraints on the act of writing itself, such as performing it in conspicuous circumstances, under difficult physical conditions or while being occupied with something else.
But during the short 'tidying-up' phase the anxiety of publication kicks in: I often attempt to put a polish on what has found itself on paper, and thus introduce secondary elements which I have no further chance to work through. Which leaves some of the pieces hanging uncomfortably between the note and the poem. This is the intention of the exercise; it also serves to reinforce the axiomatic claim that the pith of the writing happens in the re-writing.
To discover what we write and why we write it we must perform the act of writing in the first place. I find that the 'Genius or Not' exercise offers a gateway to themes and forms or levels of language that may not be accessible under unforced circumstances. I suspect its influence will turn out to be in the detection of corruptions at the time of the initial composition: that is, it will help sharpen my skill for collecting raw material. This is where poets who have worked for years honing their crafting and re-drafting and self-editing skills sometimes find they have gone limp.
I am also halfway through Melissa Lee-Houghton's book Patterns of Mourning (Chipmunka Publishing, 2009). A book-length 'poetic diary' comprised of a series of 'songs' or epistles to various persons, it is a difficult read in terms of the circumstances of its composition and subject matter ("I wrote this book while undergoing what was later termed a Mixed Affective Episode, as a diagnosed Manic Depressive since the age of 15" writes Lee-Houghton in her foreword) but mostly because it disregards the rules of narrative or even syntax - threads break off and come back in snatches, tenses and subjects change unexpectedly, the identity of the addressee shifts constantly - as well as the conventions of what's termed 'confessional writing'. It is also an exhilarating read, and it contains some astonishing poetry that lights up masses of material which often looks and sounds like the unsorted outpourings of a stretched mind, a mind which nevertheless remains alert to its position and use of language. In her foreword, Lee-Houghton also writes that much of the book was composed "on the underside of letters, the backs of my hands and arms and all over my clothes, on train tickets, in public computer terminals, on walls..." and argues against "the idea that as individuals a loss of control or emotional stability is something which should bring about shame and humiliation".
Melissa Lee-Houghton and I are two of around 30 writers participating in the 'Genius or Not' online project, which invites its contributors to compose short pieces of off-the-cuff prose or poetry (nothing already considered or worked on) written on particular days of our choosing, and to publish them shortly afterwards and with minimal revising. The project is curated by Succour's managing editor Anthony Banks and is an offshoot of the responses to the 'theme' proposed by Anthony for Succour's abandoned issue 11 (6 February 2010). 'Genius or Not' is currently under way, with work pouring in almost daily, though the website that will be carrying it has not yet gone live.
'Genius or Not' is an exercise that forces me to resist the intensive (and sometimes self-conscious) re-drafting of my original notes towards a poem. Paradoxically, being aware of the imposed constraints at the point of composition, these notes becomes contaminated by an urge to find their raison d’être. So they become less 'sincere' or 'authentic' than the notes I would usually begin poems from. I have tried to circumvent this by introducing additional constraints on the act of writing itself, such as performing it in conspicuous circumstances, under difficult physical conditions or while being occupied with something else.
But during the short 'tidying-up' phase the anxiety of publication kicks in: I often attempt to put a polish on what has found itself on paper, and thus introduce secondary elements which I have no further chance to work through. Which leaves some of the pieces hanging uncomfortably between the note and the poem. This is the intention of the exercise; it also serves to reinforce the axiomatic claim that the pith of the writing happens in the re-writing.
To discover what we write and why we write it we must perform the act of writing in the first place. I find that the 'Genius or Not' exercise offers a gateway to themes and forms or levels of language that may not be accessible under unforced circumstances. I suspect its influence will turn out to be in the detection of corruptions at the time of the initial composition: that is, it will help sharpen my skill for collecting raw material. This is where poets who have worked for years honing their crafting and re-drafting and self-editing skills sometimes find they have gone limp.
Tuesday, 19 January 2010
Succour Salons in Dublin and London
We will be holding a Succour Salon in Dublin on Thursday 28 January 2010.
The venue is The Sycamore Club, 9 Sycamore Street, Temple Bar, Dublin 2 and the time is 8pm - 11pm.
Readings from Lawrence Fenton, Miriam Gamble, Órfhlaith Foyle, Maurice Scully and Grace Wells.
Admission is free.
Hope to see you there!
*
A Succour Salon will also be taking place in London, on the same night, at The Betsey Trotwood pub in Clerkenwell.
The venue is The Sycamore Club, 9 Sycamore Street, Temple Bar, Dublin 2 and the time is 8pm - 11pm.
Readings from Lawrence Fenton, Miriam Gamble, Órfhlaith Foyle, Maurice Scully and Grace Wells.
Admission is free.
Hope to see you there!
*
A Succour Salon will also be taking place in London, on the same night, at The Betsey Trotwood pub in Clerkenwell.
Monday, 23 November 2009
Succour 10: The Banal
Succour 10: The Banal is now out.
From shoelaces and spreadsheets to trivia, taxi rides and telesales; from your lunchtime sandwich to the very last thing you see before you die... The work collected in this issue teases out the mystery, beauty and horror in the so-called banal.
Fiction from Duncan Brett, Kevin Brown, Gary Cansell, Abi Curtis, Cassandra Moss and Mark Staniforth.
Prose Poems from Annie Clarkson and John Clegg.
Poetry from Judy Brown, Isobel Dixon, Melissa Lee-Houghton, Christodoulos Makris, Shaunagh Darling Robertson, Ben Rogers, Lee Rourke, Maurice Scully, Cherry Smyth and Grace Wells.
Artwork from Derek Ogbourne and Martin Skauen.
The Banal is available from our stockists and the online store.
*
My contribution to The Banal is a 'sales pitch' for an issue of Paris Match from January 2009. A harrowing photograph from Gaza that appears in it is an image that literally pierces the poem, and acts as a momentary distraction to the salesperson.
From shoelaces and spreadsheets to trivia, taxi rides and telesales; from your lunchtime sandwich to the very last thing you see before you die... The work collected in this issue teases out the mystery, beauty and horror in the so-called banal.
Fiction from Duncan Brett, Kevin Brown, Gary Cansell, Abi Curtis, Cassandra Moss and Mark Staniforth.
Prose Poems from Annie Clarkson and John Clegg.
Poetry from Judy Brown, Isobel Dixon, Melissa Lee-Houghton, Christodoulos Makris, Shaunagh Darling Robertson, Ben Rogers, Lee Rourke, Maurice Scully, Cherry Smyth and Grace Wells.
Artwork from Derek Ogbourne and Martin Skauen.
The Banal is available from our stockists and the online store.
*
My contribution to The Banal is a 'sales pitch' for an issue of Paris Match from January 2009. A harrowing photograph from Gaza that appears in it is an image that literally pierces the poem, and acts as a momentary distraction to the salesperson.
Tuesday, 29 September 2009
Succour 11: February 6th, 2010
For Succour 11, our Spring/Summer 2010 issue, we would like to invite submissions which pertain not to a theme, as has hitherto been the case, but which adhere to a pair of conditions.
Condition 1: All submissions should be written on Saturday February 6th, 2010.
Condition 2: What you write should not be an attempt to execute an idea – for a story, for a poem, etc – that has previously occurred to you. Rather, we would prefer you to write whatever happens to come into your head at that particular time.
The idea for this issue was inspired by 20 Lines a Day by Harry Mathews, in which the author sets out to follow a rule Stendhal once set himself, to write ‘Twenty lines a day, genius or not’. Mathews undertakes this project in an attempt to overcome ‘the anxiety of the blank page’; it becomes part of his writing practice, his way of starting off, getting in the zone, before going on to whatever his main writing project may be. We would like submissions to February 6th, 2010 to be written in the same spirit.
We will be accepting submissions to February 6th, 2010 from Saturday February 6th 2010 until Monday February 8th 2010 – thereby allowing a couple of days for typing up etc.
Maximum word count: 400
Send your work to succourdublin@gmail.com.
Condition 1: All submissions should be written on Saturday February 6th, 2010.
Condition 2: What you write should not be an attempt to execute an idea – for a story, for a poem, etc – that has previously occurred to you. Rather, we would prefer you to write whatever happens to come into your head at that particular time.
The idea for this issue was inspired by 20 Lines a Day by Harry Mathews, in which the author sets out to follow a rule Stendhal once set himself, to write ‘Twenty lines a day, genius or not’. Mathews undertakes this project in an attempt to overcome ‘the anxiety of the blank page’; it becomes part of his writing practice, his way of starting off, getting in the zone, before going on to whatever his main writing project may be. We would like submissions to February 6th, 2010 to be written in the same spirit.
We will be accepting submissions to February 6th, 2010 from Saturday February 6th 2010 until Monday February 8th 2010 – thereby allowing a couple of days for typing up etc.
Maximum word count: 400
Send your work to succourdublin@gmail.com.
Monday, 27 July 2009
Succour Salons in London and Manchester
There are two Succour Salons coming up this week:
- Thursday 30 July, upstairs at the Betsey Trotwood pub, 56 Farringdon Road, Clerkenwell, London; with readings from Simon Barraclough, Joe Dunthorne, Kate Campbell, Ben Brooks and Robert Selby.
- Friday 31 July, upstairs at The Briton's Protection pub, Great Bridgewater Street, Manchester; with readings from Annie Clarkson, Melissa Lee-Houghton and Jonathan Hamnett.
Friday, 22 May 2009
Succour 9: Fantasies out now
Issue 9 of Succour, entitled Fantasies, is out now.
Succour 9: Fantasies is a collection of new work from some of the most exciting writers based in the UK, Ireland and further afield, who present a range of interpretations of the fantasies theme. Contributors include Órfhlaith Foyle, Laura Joyce, Rob A. Mackenzie, Gregory Norminton, Ray Robinson and Robert Selby.
A full list of stockists is available on the website, where you can also purchase copies of the journal or take out a subscription.
Succour 9: Fantasies is a collection of new work from some of the most exciting writers based in the UK, Ireland and further afield, who present a range of interpretations of the fantasies theme. Contributors include Órfhlaith Foyle, Laura Joyce, Rob A. Mackenzie, Gregory Norminton, Ray Robinson and Robert Selby.
A full list of stockists is available on the website, where you can also purchase copies of the journal or take out a subscription.
Wednesday, 29 April 2009
Succour Issue 10: The Banal
The theme for issue 10 of Succour is The Banal.
For this issue, we’re interested in work that takes the everyday or the commonplace as its subject, considers the nature of boredom, or questions what we think of as banal.
But, as ever, feel free to interpret the theme in any way you like.
Send work to succourdublin@gmail.com. The deadline for submissions for this issue is Friday 21 August. Full guidelines on submissions are available on the website.
For this issue, we’re interested in work that takes the everyday or the commonplace as its subject, considers the nature of boredom, or questions what we think of as banal.
But, as ever, feel free to interpret the theme in any way you like.
Send work to succourdublin@gmail.com. The deadline for submissions for this issue is Friday 21 August. Full guidelines on submissions are available on the website.
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