Louise Akers | 12 to 20 questions (from rob mclennan’s blog)

(from ‘rob mclennan’s blog’, 17 April 2025)

5 – Are public readings part of or counter to your creative process? Are you the sort of writer who enjoys doing readings?

I love doing readings–because they are fun and social and ephemeral experiences, but also it is a hell of a way to edit a poem. When I know I am reading something out loud in front of strangers, I will be totally ruthless in a way that only vanity can inspire. Also sometimes while I’m reading it, and really hearing and feeling its living reception I will change little things to allow for clarity or rhythm or some other immediate and interpersonal effect.

7 – What do you see the current role of the writer being in larger culture? Do they even have one? What do you think the role of the writer should be?

Oh, it’s hard not to just quote Walter Benjamin on this one. I think critique is important; I think it is important to register the fact that throwing language at a problem (“problem” standing in here very broadly and clumsily for any of the myriad social-political-environmental-economic cataclysms we are enmeshed in currently), policing the language around a problem, or even diagnosing a problem discursively are all deeply incomplete projects, while also realizing that that is not an excuse or a reason not to do those things. Very clunky sentence, but hopefully you get the drift.

(More at rob mclennan’s blog)

Louise Akers is a poet living in Brooklyn, NY. She is a PhD student in English at NYU and is the co-organizer of the small press and working group, the Organism for Poetic Research. Akers is the author of two books of poetry, Alien Year (Oversound, 2020) and Elizabeth/The story of Drone (Propeller Books, 2022).

Dulcetly (Kristy Bowen): Adventures in self-publishing

(from a post on Kristy Bowen’s blog Dulcetly | notes on a bookish life – 03 March 2025))

I was moving some books around on my shelf and realized I have now published just as many books via self-publishing as I did traditional publishing….

After 2020, I felt a shift in my relationship toward po-biz and publishing, as well as a general backlog and build-up of unpublished work. In those intervening years, I’ve had fairly long routines of writing poems daily (or at least fragments)  By the time 2021 had rolled around,  was sitting on three full-length manuscripts that I genuinely had no idea what to do with. I submitted at least two of them during reading periods for my current press, but nothing was picked up those go-rounds. I am not really a contest person, especially if they have high entrance fees and the idea of finding an forging another relationship with an indie seemed an up-hill climb.  And no one publisher could possibly take on as many books as I had stuffed away in my hard drive.

(More at Dulcetly)

Rae Armantrout | ‘The absence of certainty’, a conversation with Kate Lilley

(Cordite Poetry Review, 4th February 2025)

Kate Lilley: … One of the things you said when we were having a bit of back and forth about how we might do this was when I asked you what often gets left out, because everybody writes about (for good reason) the markedly intelligent, propositional, ‘thinky’ character of your work, it’s markedly ‘intellectual.’ You said emotion and affect tend to get left out. Why don’t we start there with some of these poems?

Rae Armantrout: Ok, I like that question. It’s true. People often talk about the ambiguity of my work and how to make meaning out of it – how meaning might be problematised, which are all intellectual problems that are very interesting to me. I like your word ‘proposition,’ Kate. One thing I like to do is to throw out a proposition that may or may not be true, it could conceivably be true, and then pose examples of what it might mean and look like for it to actually be true. Often, the examples are problematic, somehow. It’s like they’re chunky, unwieldy pieces of the world, and how do they line up with these propositions that I’m trying to use to describe it?

So, having said that I want to get around to emotion since I don’t talk about it much. I may not be good at talking about it, but I can tell you that every poem of mine starts with a feeling. And usually with a feeling I can’t identify, maybe because it’s complicated, kind of a compound feeling of ironic yet wistful or a sad yet angry combination of feelings. But also, sometimes, I need help understanding the source of the feeling, and that’s where a poem starts – when I try to identify the source of a feeling.

(Edited transcript of the conversation at Cordite Poetry Review)

(Complete interview online on the Australian National University’s Art and Social Sciences YouTube channel)

Five Islands Poetry Prize ~ for a First Book of Poetry

Terms & Conditions

  • This is an annual prize for a first already-published book-length collection of poetry by an Australian poet or a poet living and writing in Australia.
  • The author of the prize-winning book will receive $2750 and the publisher will receive $1100.
  • A book can be entered by the author or publisher.
  • The book must contain at least thirty pages of poetry, have an ISBN, and be available through retail sales outlets.
  • Self-published books are eligible as long as they meet the above criteria.
  • For the 2024-2025 Prize, books published between 1 July 2024 and 30 June 2025 are eligible.
  • Note: the prize aims to support professional publishers, in particular small-press, independent publishers.
  • Submissions are open until 15 July 2025.
  • There will be three judges, whose decision will be final.
  • The Prize will be announced in late November, and presented shortly afterwards.
  • Four copies of the submitted book are to be posted to PO Box 68 Brunswick Victoria 3056.
  • Books submitted will not be returned.
  • An email must be sent to Kevin Brophy at: kevinjb@unimelb.edu.au attesting that this is the poet’s first published book of poetry, and providing the book’s publishing date, and contact details for the poet and the publisher.

Step 1

Post four copies of the submitted poetry book to the address below. Please note, posted books should be received on or before 15 July 2025.

Five Islands Poetry Prize
PO Box 68
Brunswick Victoria 3056

Step 2

Email Kevin Brophy, attesting that this is the poet’s first published book of poetry, and provide contact details for the poet and the publisher. Please subject your email as “Five Islands Prize Entry”.

 

Five Islands Press Poetry Prize 2025

Adrienne Eberhard | ‘Marie & Marie’, Paris launch

Lovely to learn of the launch in Paris last week of Adrienne Eberhard’s new collection of poems, ‘Marie & Marie’, on Saturday 5th April.

Thirteen years in the making, Adrienne’s bi-lingual collection ‘Marie & Marie’ imagines the correspondence between Marie-Antoinette and Marie-Louise Girardin. Adrienne, who’s been in France overseeing the book’s publication the past month, returns to Tasmania soon where she’ll (no doubt) be planning and looking forward to a local launch. Congrats!

 

 

 

 

Alison J Barton – on 3CR’s Spoken Word, interviewed by Indrani Perera

Enjoyed a thoughtful interview with Wurundjeri poet Alison J Barton recently, aired on 3CR’s Spoken Word program (08 August 2024)…. Indrani Perera spoke to Alison about her collection, ‘Not Telling’, Alison’s debut full-length poetry collection published by Puncher and Wattman.

Perera began by asking about the book’s ‘intriguing’ title…

The title came to me because the unifying theme of the collection is language and speech and in fact silence and not speaking. It’s also a bit of a play on a line in one of the poems in the collection. That’s the unifying theme, but the book is also broken into three sections and they’re quite distinct, the sections. I have one about colonisation and Aboriginal Australian history, one that’s really about family relationships and just indeed human relationships, and another section that has poems that are written around psychoanalytic theory. But yes, the unifying theme is language, speech and silence. You see that coming up in most of the poems, I think.

I know people don’t talk about favourite children, but do you have a favourite section in the book?

Ah, that’s a good question. I haven’t thought about that, actually. Yeah, maybe I do, but I don’t want to say. But no, look, there are poems in each section that I’m quite fond of. I think the sections are so distinct that it’s pretty hard to pick a favourite.

Fair enough.

’Buried Light’ is the first of the poems Alison read throughout the half-hour program, introducing the topic of colonisation in Australia – something that, growing up in the 80’s, ‘ just wasn’t a thing. The history that I learnt was so revisionist it was ridiculous’, says Barton. Perera wondered what it was like as a First Nations poet to have a residency at Oxford University. (In the past, Aboriginal human remains were often obtained by researchers – some associated with Cambridge – and frequently without consent. Aboriginal groups have long demanded the repatriation of remains – and some have been returned – but the process has invariably been slow, and often obstructive)

Yeah, look, it was a great experience but, of course, I was very aware of that contradiction in being there and also I’ve reflected on it a lot since the fellowship.

and there’s a great deal left unsaid here in an interview packed within a half hour program, though Puncher & Wattman’s website offers more of the book’s detail and its depiction of the

ongoing legacy of colonial dispossession and the strength of its survivors through representations of the wretched damage caused by the invasion of Australia, as well as musings on sacred land and celebration of continued culture. It testifies to the systemic oppression of Aboriginal people, connecting present-day black trauma with its origins. Jolted by the life realities of who we were, and are, alongside exacting accounts of genocide, the reader is immersed in a rich and harrowing world.’

…………………………………….

It was about five years ago that Barton took up poetry.

I sort of thought that I couldn’t write poetry so it was something that I didn’t explore until it suddenly came to me about five years ago and I just haven’t been able to stop ever since.

‘Do you know what it was that prompted that shift from prose into poetry?’

What actually happened is a poem just came to me and it’s very rare for that to happen now but it just spontaneously came to me and I wrote it down and I realised it was a poem and I literally have not stopped writing poetry since then.

So it basically snuck up on you and ambushed you?

Exactly. Yeah, that’s a good way of putting it. And there’s something sort of mystical I think about the creative process.

Alison I’m wondering what inspires you to write?

That’s such a big question. Basically everything.

I am in a daily writing practice, so I’m putting something on paper every day and, yeah, anything and everything, I would say.

So everything’s sort of grist for the mill?

I think so, yes. And while I write every day, it’s usually stream of consciousness writing that I then read over later and turn into poetry.

So when you write, is it in paragraph form or are you using dot points?

No, neither, I very much am writing in an endless stream. I have a journal, I use paper and pen and I use grammar sparingly, but there are no paragraph breaks. It’s a very continuous line of thought.

And how long do you do that for each day?

Ideally I would do it for an hour, at least an hour each day, but of course I don’t always get to do an hour. For me, even if I write for a few minutes, I’m happy that I’ve written something each day. Sometimes it’s much longer.

Do you find that doing it daily helps you to then form poems?

Yes. Well, it gives me a lot of material to go over later and turn into poetry, I think if I didn’t do that, I would produce much less poetry. There have only been a couple of times in my career where I’ve sat down with the intention of writing a poem and not using any material, any sort of written material that I’ve produced prior and a poem has just come to me spontaneously.

Usually it’s through great effort.

So is it like your shortcut or your secret hack to writing poetry, doing that daily practice?

Yes, I think that’s right, yeah.

I really envy you writing every day.

Thank you … for some people they need to write, they must write, but they have to force themselves and for me for some reason it’s actually a pleasure.

That’s fabulous.

That’s a great place to be in as a writer. I feel very lucky.

…………………………………….

Writing can be isolating, but a good writing group offers encouragement, honest feedback, and shared understanding. Being part of a writing group means you’ve people to push you to improve, keep you on track. Alison was questioned about whether she belonged to a writer’s group, ‘or do you have somebody that you share your work with and get feedback as you’re going?’

Yeah, I am in a writer’s group with three other poets, it’s only something that we’ve started recently, probably in the last year, I would say, and it’s incredibly useful for refining poems, sometimes I’ll take a poem to that group and I’ll think this poem needs a lot of work. This is in its very early stages. And then the group will surprise me and say, Alison, this poem’s ready.

I think what’s great about that group as well is that we’re all writers, we’re all poets, so we are honest with each other. If something needs work, you know, we want to get better and we want to help each other.

So yeah,  there’s real trust in that group and I value that perspective. I feel like trust is be very important if you’re sharing work, especially poetry, which feels very personal.

I’m curious about your writing and if there are particular topics that you’re writing about.

In general, you mean?

Yeah.

No, I don’t, I really don’t restrict myself and I don’t want to force a poem about something. I have done that at times, but it’s kind of rare.

I think one of my early poetry mentors said to me something along the lines of, you have to let the poem be what it wants to be. And I think it’s very true. I think when I write a poem, it surprises me sometimes, you know, in subject matter sometimes or where it goes.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

(To listen to the full recording, visit 3CR’s Spoken Word program).

Alison J Barton’s work has appeared in Australian and international journals and anthologies such as Meanjin, Cordite, Westerly, Mascara Literary Review, Australian Poetry Journal, Black Box Manifold and many more. In 2023 she was the inaugural winner of the University of Cambridge First Nations Writing Residence Fellowship. She has been the recipient of several fellowships with Varuna House and the winner of a number of international writing residencies. Alison’s poetry appeared in the Best of Australian Poems 2022 and 2023 and has been recognised in numerous prizes. She’s appeared in podcasts for the Guilty Feminist and Poetry Says.

Alison J Barton’s collection ‘Not Telling’ is available from Puncher & Wattmann retailing for $27.