You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘Workshops’ category.
was the title of the workshop I presented yesterday as guest poet at Gawler Poets @ the Pub.
Held at the Prince Albert Hotel, this groups meets on the last Sunday of every month where a poet is invited to give a workshop in the morning then have the first slot at the afternoon readings.
With my recent collection about breast cancer, selecting the topic was easy; finding relevant examples and devising the structure took a little more time. And I thoroughly enjoyed not only preparing the workshop but also presenting it, and the participants did too, taking away with them poems to develop, writing prompts and further reading/listening.
After lunch was the five-word challenge where I chose random words from Venus for poets to draft something using for me to judge. The winner got a bottle of wine. I then read a couple of poems from each of my collections giving context where relevant, followed by members of the group sharing their work. The day flew by.
So given the time I spent researching and developing the workshop, I will explore more opportunities to present it because it’s something we can all relate to, having a body, and whether we like it or not is a whole other workshop…
Hosted by Red Room Poetry as part of their new initiative Poetry Month, I zoomed into a workshop by Tony Birch – ‘Everything is everything’.
Poetry Month is all about celebrating Australian poetry, poets and publishers, and Tony is one of its finest poets. Author of three novels, including White Girl, winner of the 2020 NSW Premier’s Award for Indigenous Writing, and short story collections in addition to poetry, Tony is also an activist, historian and essayist.
The workshop focused on simplicity; the paring back of a poem to its bones to let it breathe and quietly be. Tony showcased the work of Agnes Martin (painter) and Alice Walker (poet) among other artists, sharing his method of holding a poem and not releasing it until it’s ready to be formed. And form really is key, something not to be forced, with Tony admitting he knows little about the technicality of poetry.
You can have the greatest technique but if the poem doesn’t have heart, it’s vacuous.
Tony Birch
Reiteration, writing body, themes of country, family and blood, Tony shared his own work as well as others, explaining how he often revisits poems to discover another layer. Referring to himself as a writing block plumber, Tony gave us prompts to try, one of which was to take a favourite photo and capture an impression of it rather than an exactness.
Tony was incredibly generous with his time, knowledge and skill, and answered questions throughout. We even got to see his writing desk! And what I love about these sorts of insightful workshops is being introduced to new work, new ways of seeing and of course the inevitable additions to an ever-growing wish list.
So the other writing course I’m now halfway through is a monthly Advanced Poetry Feedback Workshop facilitated by Cath Drake via Zoom.
Originally from Australia, Cath is based in London and has been widely published. Sleeping with Rivers won the 2013 Mslexia Poetry Pamphlet Prize and The Shaking City from Seren Books was commended by the Forward Prizes for Poetry in 2020. Both are brilliant reads.
Cath runs two of these workshops over 6 months and it’s an intimate group of six poets; three from Australia and three from the UK. We submit a poem for feedback and Cath shares a contemporary one for discussion, as well as a prompt for next time. And the format is effective – someone volunteers to read the poem, we hear it from the poet who then mutes themselves while we discuss what works and what doesn’t, returning to the poet for their thoughts at the end.
Let’s make a good poem better!
This is Cath’s motto and her comments are perceptive and intuitive, encouraging us to review form, line breaks, syntax and meaning. The three poems I’ve submitted so far have been improved going through this process, two of which will be included in my next collection about my breast cancer experience. Cath is also organising readings later this year as part of the Where are we now? series, exploring connections to people and place, when we’ll get to read what we’ve written alongside some big names. This I’m looking forward to.
A good prose poem is something quite unique and who better to teach its essentials than two of its finest poets – Cassandra Atherton and Paul Hetherington.
Hosted by brilliant Australian UK-based poet Cath Drake as part of her poetry masterclass series, Cassandra and Paul shared the main features of a prose poem, what sets it apart from flash fiction and poetic prose, as well as some examples. The class also had chance to draft their own prose poems, which I struggled with as I can’t always write on demand, however it did give me ideas.
I met Cassandra and Paul at a Poetry On The Move Festival in Canberra a few years ago. Their work in this area is extensive and they’ve recently edited The Anthology of Australian Prose Poetry published by Melbourne University Press, which I was fortunate enough to be shortlisted for, but my work sadly didn’t make the final cut.
Their energy and enthusiasm for prose poetry is contagious and has spurred me to explore the form further, because I’m intrigued with its dichotomy of being fragmentary and a stand-alone narrative, like a snapshot of some larger work. So my aim is to practice with Cassandra’s advice in mind – a good prose poem should leave you barking like a dog at the moon.
I’ve attended two workshops recently organised through Writers SA – Mark Tredinnick’s The Little Red Writing Workshop and Rachael Mead’s Writing the Landscape.
Mark is an award-winning poet and widely published, however this session focused on craft and technique that can be applied to any style of writing. Participants ranged from academics to creative writers, who were given a crash course in Mark’s fifteen rules and received a copy of his book in which they’re explored in more detail.
Mark shared his extensive knowledge and experience, along with some memorable quotes, such as E B White defining writing as the process of the “self escaping onto the page”, which can apply to both the writer and reader. We looked at structure and rhythm, language and voice, being urged to copy a well-made sentence and examine how it’s constructed. Mark’s message was “writing better means getting out of your own way”, write from rather than of the self and master punctuation to help your audience breathe your story.
Rachael is also a widely acclaimed poet whose work I admire and her session explored eco-poetics – an activist way of writing nature poetry in that it has both agency and impact, providing an ecological rather than humanistic perspective, the essence of her latest collection.
Rachael introduced us to four approaches, explaining that eco-poetry is a challenge to dominant discourse, chipping away at anthropocentrism. We read work by Sharon Olds, Mary Oliver and Judith Wright, poems grounded in place with biological, cultural and physical forces at play. Personal and sensory aspects are fundamental to eco-poetics, macro combined with micro to produce a multi-layered piece that seeks an emotive rather than intellectual response. Rachael’s workshop spanned a morning, but there’s enough material to easily fill a day.
And so I’ve acquired new skills to flex and drafts to develop, and a new awareness of self – the impact it has on writing and the world in which both exist.
I went to a workshop yesterday facilitated by Jane Turner Goldsmith at Adelaide University called ‘Write Yourself’.
Jane is a psychologist as well as a talented writer, who I first heard speak at Salisbury Writer’s Festival a few years ago. Having had a synopsis accepted by the Australian Psychological Society, Jane was keen to try out her workshop before rolling it out to a wider audience. I was one of six who volunteered and very happy I did.
Writing as therapy is a hot topic, with research by Pennebaker showing the therapeutic benefits associated with this particular form of self-expression, both mental and physical. In six hours, we completed 10 exercises, ranging from writing about something we were proud of and the significant object we were asked to bring along, through to eating chocolate mindfully and introducing narrative to a traumatic event. One of my favourites, and the most emotive for me, was writing a letter to our younger selves. When time was called, I couldn’t stop.
Parameters were given from the start. No one had to share what they’d written, only if they felt comfortable doing so. Some did, others chose not to. Jane was also interested in how we felt about completing each exercise – anxious, scared, enthused – to gauge how they’d be received. And this is the important bit.
As said, Jane is a registered psychologist with extensive experience in this area and so was very adept at managing the emotional consequences of such self-exploration. I’ve recently assisted a fellow writer in the UK, Carolyn Jess-Cooke, to publish an article in the latest issue of Mslexia about the safeguards in place when writing about mental health, and how alarmingly many running such workshops are not adequately equipped to deal with the fallout. Fortunately, I was able to provide examples of good practice here.
For me, the workshop was emotionally exhausting. I revisited traumas and even went places I’d never been. But then I didn’t expect anything less. Being a poet who draws on experience to produce work, this was safe ground. And completing the exercises has given me the foundations for five pieces I intend to develop further. So thanks again Jane for letting me be one of your guinea pigs. I’ve found new squeaks 😊
Mark Tredinnick was in town over the weekend to run two workshops at the SA Writers Centre, the second of which I attended to learn about voice in a poem, or quite often, voices.
I first met Mark at the launch of Australian Love Poems, which he edited and then again in a workshop he ran last year. Mark is a brilliant poet with an amazing track record; winner of the Montreal Poetry Prize in 2011 and the Cardiff International Poetry Prize in 2012, author of Bluewren Cantos, Fire Diary, and several other celebrated works of poetry and prose.
The workshop explored the discipline of fashioning a poem, the importance of form, voice and language, and the linguistic choices poets are forced to make. Why that form over another, why the line break there, why that word instead of this one – these were just some of the questions posed as we examined pieces by John Glenday, Seamus Heaney and Charles Wright.
Mark also shared with us what he believes and how he works, The Gospel of Mark, with some very salient points:
- A poem is a leaf that tells a tree
- The words in a poem are only there to keep the silence apart
- A poem is a sculpture of voice
- Poetry recasts life’s exquisite spell
- Each line in a poem is a poem
- A poem is a window
It was thought provoking stuff that generated fascinating discussion and insight, and certainly for me, another poem to develop. And just how fab are Mark’s business cards, puts mine to shame!
I gave Mark a copy of my chapbook after as I’m keen to get his thoughts on it. Another participant presented Mark with a bottle of wine from her own winery having attended both workshops, so I recommended he have that open while reading my collection 😉
Now that’s the name of a workshop that gets your attention! And one I attended on Friday facilitated by David Chapple, Writing Development Manager at the SA Writers Centre.
Why did I go? Death is something we all have in common – be it in the family or what will come to us whether we like it or not – and as much of my work focuses on certain aspects of loss, I was interested to hear other people’s opinions and feelings about death, grieving and the impact it can have.
I had no idea what to expect, other than I knew that for me it would be an emotive experience, and I was pleasantly surprised. David did an amazing job of prompting, surmising, sharing and exploring our thoughts and beliefs of mortality, and I think we were all quietly awed at just how quickly we shared and how much. Eight strangers, who may or may not meet again, in the beautiful grounds of Enfield Memorial Park on a cold sunny day provided the perfect setting.
The morning consisted of a series of prompts that literally decomposed (excuse the pun!) the last death ceremony we had attended. For some of us, including me, it was difficult to get past the sheer volume of feeling to remember specific sounds, tastes and smells, but it created a patchwork of human experiences, some light, others more intricate. In the afternoon we were asked to think about arranging our own death ceremony! Morbid and weird indeed, but again an interesting challenge – who would we want there, is there anybody we wouldn’t want to attend, how would we be remembered, what would be said, would there be music, laughter, tears, dance, what did we not regret, what did we still want to achieve…?
It takes courage to share and I feel quite proud to have been a part of this, and when asked if there was anything we would change about the workshop we said more time, because there really is much to ponder. And I will leave you with this simple message – life is short, make fun of it 🙂
When I lived in London I participated in a few Poetry School courses, including a workshop with Pascale Petit and an online course facilitated by Helen Ivory.
Last week the school hosted their first Digital Open Day via CAMPUS, a social network for poets. I signed up to participate in a couple of their live Q&A chats but unfortunately, due to some technical issues our end plus the time difference, was not able to be actively involved.
However, following each event transcripts were posted on the site for group members to access so I was able to catch up on what I missed. The live session Path to a First Collection provided a real insight into the heads of prestigious editors – Neil Astley of Bloodaxe Books (also see Jo Bell’s latest blog) and Amy Wack of Seren – and poets – Kim Moore and Hannah Lowe. Neil and Amy explained what they look for in a submission to grab (and hold) their attention, whereas Kim and Hannah’s perspective was from the submitter and the arduous task of fine-tuning their work before sending it in. It is an invaluable read for anyone making steps to putting their initial manuscript together, be it a full length or pamphlet collection.
Kim Moore is also the Poetry School’s new Poet in Digital Residence. Kim is a wonderful poet based in Cumbria, with her intriguing first pamphlet If We Could Speak Like Wolves published by Inpress and eagerly awaited first full length collection due out in 2015 from Seren. Kim has also been widely published in some of the top literary magazines, such as Rialto and Ambit, and after reading her first blog I’m looking forward to more.
J V Birch 