Not really writing.

So, I haven't really written anything all summer, which is pretty bad.
I've always been a bit of a boom-and-bust writer, by which I mean, I write a lot a lot a lot and then nothing for ages and then having a big glut again.
I have been writing some songs, one of which is kind of a poem I guess, its kind of silly but also a bit sweet, I suppose, it's called 'The Rules':

The Rules begin, 'Don't ever give in.
Keep a hold of yourself at all times.'
But you look in my eyes and read my mind
As you brush your hair back, like I'd laid my hand flat,
And after it's done, there goes my rule number 1.

Rule number two, 'Whatever you do,
Just don't let her find out the truth.'
But you point out the shroud of sun-blushed clouds
So that even the cows needn't hear it aloud
With that way that you do,
And there goes my rule number 2.

Rule number three, 'You've got to be free,
You can't ever give her the drop.'
But the puddles all shiver and the chance they might mirror
Your feet passing over the top.
And trees all lean in to cut out the wind
When you pass and give them a playful grin
So I hold my hands up and ask for the cuffs,
And rule number three's given up.

[then there's a little musical break}

New rule, Number zero,
'Don't be a hero, this time you're playing for keeps.'
When she takes your arm and you're completely disarmed,
In love with the way you feel weak,
When you're kissing her cheek like a gentleman ought,
When you're bringing her flowers and opening doors,
And only her eyes bring your breath up short,
That's my rule number naught.

Other than that, I wrote another song that's really really sad, so I won't put that on here because I'll just seem like a miserable old git.

It's pretty hard trying to cultivate my writing when I'm working full time and doing things a lot of evenings, but I'm just gonna have to try to find the time, I suppose.

sorry its been so long

Sorry about the delay and prolonged absence . . . I haven't written anything for a while, I'm afraid, not for any particular reason, I just haven't written anything for a while.
Anyway, as promised (a long time ago, I know) here is the link to Route 57 where my short story Adam has been published, I hope you like it.

http://route57.group.shef.ac.uk/issue6/6sfjonathanpayne.html

J xx

Review . . .

Here is a general review of the evening of poetry I read at a while ago with Helen Mort and Ben Wilkinson. It's by someone from the University Paper and to be honest I think they've been a little unfair, and maybe were the wrong person to send to a poetry evening since they don't seem to like poetry very much . . . oh well.

http://www.forgetoday.com/page1619/Review-An-Evening-Of-Poetry

Short Story accepted.

After I made a few revisions and resubmitted to Sam Matthews she's accepted my short story (assuming she has no further questions, which I don't think she will) for Route 57, and it will be appearing in the next issue which is published in June.
Always nice to have some good news considering that I keep getting rejections from poetry magazines, which is completely to be expected but obviously isn't the most positive thing.
So, I'll post a link on here when that goes up, making the whole story available.

I haven't written very much lately, I've had a few lines I'd like to work with kicking around in my head but they haven't particularly gone anywhere so far. Again, this is something to be expected considering how much of a 'boom-and-bust' writer I am (yeah that's right, I applied an economics term to poetry, eat it), and until a couple of weeks ago I was churning out pieces at a pretty good rate. Also, I've been rather preoccupied with writing my last ever essays and putting together thing for when I go to Canada.
That being said, I feel like I ought to cultivate some consistency in my output, and so will try and get a couple of things down in the next week or so, especially considering I have handed in my last ever essay and just have one exam to prepare for.
It will probably end up being about girls, so be prepared . . .

Over and out.

'Adam'

Finally heard back from Samantha Matthews about my short story 'Adam' that I submitted to Route 57, and they said they want to publish it! Yay!
Of course, that was "subject to minor revision", so I've got to give it a quick look at before they'll take it for sure, but I'm sure it won't be a big deal.

That's all for now.

Redrafts

I finally got around to editing Sheriff Woods, and I've now submitted it to the competition. Here is a little section I particularly enjoyed writing, its from, sort of, the middle I guess. Early middle, let's say.

‘So then the Sherriff stood back up and looked around. His eyes fell on a young man by the name of White, young Jimmy White it was, and the Sherriff’s spurs clicked in time with the dull thud his boots made on the boards as he walked over. His percussive tread made the steely eyes he had fixed on Jimmy somehow more threatening, and you could tell Jimmy felt it in a chill up his back from the way he squirmed under that stare. Jimmy had been leaning up against the windowsill looking out with that hopefulness only known to the young, and the Sheriff span a chair round to put his boot up on, trapping Jimmy in his little corner of sun.
“Afternoon, Sheriff.”
‘Jimmy said, with a voice that shook as much as his hand when I saw him raise a Colt for the first time.’
“Good afternoon James.”
‘The Sheriff paused long enough for one of his rare smirks to curl the edges of his mouth, which just so happened to be the same exact amount of time that Jimmy could hold his breath in before he had to explosively exhale,
“Aw c’mon Sherriff, I’m dying here! What d’you want?! Whatever it is, I didn’t do it, I swear!”
“You know Jeremy James, James?”
“Yes sir, I do.”
“Were you drinking with him in here last night?”
“I sure was, we left around midnight, I remember because the church bell had gone off not long before. Of course, I live on ridge side and he lives down the valley so we went our separate ways at the door.”
“You sure you went your separate ways at the door?”
“Well yeah, I told him I’d meet him here today at three o’clock and said goodnight. Looks like he’s late.”
“Something tells me he’s a little more than late, Son. Jeremy James is dead.”
‘Jimmy White’s composure changed at the news, starting in his eyes and ears where the news first hit, then trickling through his body like the water up the top of the mountain where the river’s just a baby. Eventually his whole body was like a wet sack of malt and his eyes, normally as sharp as .45 slugs just pressed into the chamber, thinking excitedly of the moment they’ll be fired, were more like the empty shells that fall in the dust to be trodden on and turn to rust. He slumped against the window and slid down, spilling his drink as his body spilled limply onto the window sill.

I hope you liked it. I believe I should hear by the end of may whether I made it into the short list (of 3) which will go onto the website for further judgement. Fingers crossed till then.

Here's another (minor) redraft of a poem I posted not long ago that I revised after some constructive comments from one Christopher Littlefair (many thanks Chris). I read it at the recent reading with Joe Kriss and Kayo (I don't know how to spell his surname), and it went down very well.

Sunrise

When you look up from your drink
With hungover, listless eyes,
I see the sunrise on an autumn day,
crisp and hung with dew, which slowly
splashes the drowsy trees
shaking the tiredness from their leaves.

In my mouth the words taste like medicine,
as I try to explain, inarticulate and fumbling,
that I have to go away. I drain my cup,
Stand and look at this beautiful breaking day.

Oh, fuck it all. Perhaps I’ll stay.


That's all folks.

Reading went well.

The reading yesterday went very very well, my poems were well received and I got some encouraging feedback from the others reader and one or two members of the audience.
I also took a moment to say to Joe and Kayo how good it was to get to read with them, and Joe said he'd really liked my poems too, and that I should definitely submit some more poems to Now Then Magazine (of which he is the poetry submissions editor).
So, another excellent reading, despite my partially lost voice.

Definitely got to make myself go back and edit 'Sheriff Woods' because the hand in date is Sunday (shit). Also I need to make a decision about which poems to enter into the Poetry London competition that I mentioned before.

So, good things still happening and some more exciting things to come. Hurray!