Row, row, row your boat ...

                                               

                                                

I was interested to read some research earlier this week about children's reading; apparently in one study children who had known eight nursery rhymes by heart by the age of four were amongst the best readers (and spellers) in their class by the time they were eight. There wasn't enough of a discussion in the article as to what other possible aspects could have influenced that achievement, and of course many nursery rhymes might now be considered questionable on the grounds of their approach to gender etc. but the underlying premise - that rhythmic recitation is actively beneficial as well as a fun activity - is one in which I firmly believe. Next week is World Nursery Rhyme Week with lots of activities planned for families all around the world. I have very fond memories of my own experience of nursery rhymes, both as a child and as a parent, and I'm convinced it laid the foundations for my love of language and poetry in particular.

Not that I want to think about Christmas yet (I'm afraid I'm a bit Bah, humbug! about it all) but I did come across a couple of other great ideas for children recently. The wonderful Cant a Mil Bookshop in Whitchurch in Cardiff is offering what it calls an Advent Calendar of Welsh Books, twenty four wrapped and numbered children's books (specially chosen with an individual's age and interests in mind) as an alternative to the chocolate variety. And a writing friend is writing and illustrating a special story for her children with chapters to read with them each day in December - perhaps a family tradition in the making there! 

Changes and chances

I've just finished correcting the proofs for my poetry collection, which will be off to the printers later this afternoon. Though when the book will see the light of day remains to be seen! Just as we here in Wales are almost out of lockdown, England (where the printers are) will be heading back into it. And I think the printers have only just cleared the backlog from Lockdown Mark One.... There are far more important things happening in the world just now of course, but it's certainly throwing yet more plans into disarray.

I'm part of a small peer group who periodically set themselves objectives for their writing which are shared and discussed with colleagues and then reviewed regularly - I find it a very useful focusing and motivating strategy. But over the last eight months my objectives have had to be very fluid; several  long planned projects have proved unachievable in the present situation (interviews and other research visits no longer possible etc). But when a project is completed - and the collection has been a work in progress for some time - it's certainly very gratifying. And the changed landscape has encouraged me to resurrect some old, shelved ideas - a couple of which, for example, have turned out to have life in them for radio scripts. So whilst 2020 has definitely not proved the writing year I'd hoped it to be, it's still proving an interesting, if challenging, one!

"No river like your first river"

Over the last couple of months I've been working on a series of radio scripts, looking at Welsh folk tales. It's been a very enjoyable experience and I've been able to link some of the stories with walks in relevant areas, which has made it doubly enjoyable. So many tales  (such as the Lady of Llyn y Fan Fach, The Three Sisters of Plynlimon, Cantre'r Gwaelod) are associated with rivers, lakes or the sea; my favourite walks are always by water and through woods, so I've really been able to indulge myself !

I'm obviously not alone in my love of rivers. So many writers seem drawn to them. I'm currently reading a poetry anthology - The River's Voice, edited by Angela King and Susan Clifford - which spans several hundred years worth of river poems, with Tennyson and Wordsworth cheek by jowl with Ted Hughes, Carol Ann Duffy and Seamus Heaney. What is the lure of a river for such writers? The symbolic importance of its journeying? Its links with past and future generations? The vital role it plays in sustaining communities?

Most of my life has been lived in close proximity to one river or another. I feel at home by running water, inspired by its movement, its constancy yet its unpredictability. Last week I finished the Usk Valley Walk that runs from Newport to Brecon; I was born a stone's throw from the Usk, and to quote a poem I came across a few years ago, "There's no river like your first river". For a long distance footpath the walk is actually quite short - only 48 miles - but it passes through fantastic countryside and interesting villages and there are glimpses of a lot of industrial archaeology that have direct bearing on my family history. The walk utilises quite a bit of the towpath of the Monmouthshire and Brecon Canal (or the Mon and Brec as it's known locally), looking down on the river; with the autumn colours and boating activity on the water it was both a relaxing and an energizing experience. The week before we had almost finished the Wye Valley Walk from Chepstow to Plynlimon (a more ambitious 136 miles) but time and the weather got the better of us. Still, only another five and a half miles to go there when we can resume next spring!

Reflections on "The Mon and Brec" 

 

National Poetry Day

The first Thursday in October has been National Poetry Day since 1994; it was begun, and continues to be organised, by the Forward Arts Foundation. Tomorrow sees this year's celebration across the country; the theme for 2020 is "Vision", with a strap line of "See it like a poet!" Perhaps we're all seeing things a little differently just now, and many of the live events that were planned have been modified, moved on line or otherwise changed in nature but there's no doubt that both the written and spoken varieties of poetry will be much in evidence here, there and everywhere - wherever enthusiasts can take them. Look out for your local events. 

A little ahead of the day, last Friday evening saw a great on-line launch for two collections by my friends and colleagues Derek Healy and Marilyn and Howard Timms. The evening was part of Cheltenham Poetry Festival's year round programme of events that has sprung up in the wake of Covid. It was very well attended, and well worth attending too. I've written before about Derek's second collection Home (Graffiti Books 2020) but it was a great pleasure to hear him reading from it; his poems are always thought provoking and not infrequently amusing too. Deciphering the Maze (Indigo Dreams 2020) explores Howard and Marilyn's early and shared lives, with very moving references to the cancers of which they are both survivors. It's another collection that rewards reading and rereading, with so much to it.

                                                           

Getting autumn underway

Radio silence for a few weeks as I've been away / unwell / inundated! But I'm home again now with things more on an even keel and trying to work through what should have been done but hasn't been yet. It does seem a rather strange early autumn though; usually by now we're settling into the September routine - groups meeting up again, classes restarting etc. - but this year it's just more of the same, with Zoom featuring large in most things we do, as it did all over the summer. How fortunate we are though that technology does afford us the opportunity to stay connected when the virus conspires against us.

One thing that has got done (at last!) is the final preparation of my poetry collection which should make it to the printers this week. It will be coming out shortly with Graffiti Books. On Friday my Catchword colleague Derek Healey (poetry editor with Graffiti magazine) will be launching his collection "Home"; I'm delighted to have been invited to read with him and Rona Laycock at the virtual launch. "Home" should have had its debut at the Cheltenham Poetry Festival in April but was a casualty of the lockdown, along with all the other events of the festival. Anna Saunders, the Festival Director, has been very successful however in arranging a year long programme of on-line readings, launches and open mics that has attracted a world-wide audience. Another silver lining. 

The best laid plans ...

We've recently returned from a trip to Mid Wales that didn't go quite to plan. Whoever would have thought that a walking expedition in Wales in August would have to be abandoned not because of rain but because of the heat?! We did manage two further shortish stretches of our Wye Valley Walk project but, when the temperature rose above 30 degrees and kept rising, discretion was the better part of valour and we opted out for the time being. That should have freed us up to carry out some research in the area for a new non-fiction book I've started working on (loosely based around my husband's family history) but of course all the relevant archives were closed because of the Covid-19 situation ...

In the event we actually had a very useful time pursuing some research from a rather more personal angle, and meeting some distant relatives in the process; that's led me to rethink the approach I'd planned to take quite considerably - and it will probably be a far more interesting book because of it! We met some very knowledgeable people and came upon some unexpected, fascinating places - none more so than the mill my husband's great great great grandfather worked in 1856! Hidden in a remote dell, miles off any beaten track, from the outside it looked virtually derelict; to our amazement, when we ventured up a rickety ladder, we found almost the complete workings still intact and looking as if they could be coaxed back into action tomorrow. 

Going rather more to plan has been the preparation of my poetry collection, which should see the light of day this autumn. It's had a long gestation and I'll be glad to see it safely delivered now. That has a poem in it about a mill, Clenchers Mill near Malvern, which has been beautifully restored and is occasionally open to the public - well worth a visit should you have the opportunity.

Give us this day …

Except for days like this

when history, briefly resurrected,

leaps into life to catch us unawares,

they’re stilled and silenced now -

wallowers, brayers, bridge trees, tuns.

Alien to our generation,

those names our great grandparents knew,

whose daily bread depended on them -

stone nuts, runners, damsels, shoes.

But in this soundscape of the miller’s world -

the clank of wheel, the scrape of stone -

we haul them back like sacks of grain,

dust them off, reclaim them for the moment -

launder box, penstock, layshaft, flume.

Copyright Gill Garrett 2020.

A sad situation

I was much saddened to read that the poetry component of some literature exams is to be dropped in the wake on the Covid-19 situation. I know I'm not alone in this - I've seen a lot on line and in print from other disappointed writers who feel that it's symptomatic of those in charge having little appreciation of the actual subject matter on which they're pontificating. Poetry is such an integral part of our literary heritage and we've recently seen a tremendous rise in the number of young people enjoying poetry, writing poetry, performing poetry. Yes, it can be quite demanding on students in an educational environment, but is that a reason to do away with it?

I've been very heartened to see the number of younger people taking part in workshops over the period of lockdown - and very impressed by their contributions. I recently sat in on a Writing West Midlands workshop at which Sara-Jane Arbury was the guest speaker. She was talking about her very exciting work with children and young people's groups; Writing West Midlands coordinates twenty two separate groups for 8 -18 year olds. Perhaps we are now going to have to depend on agencies such as these to keep the flame alight if schools are opting out - but how many youngsters, unable to access such opportunities, will that then exclude?