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When I grow up…
Do you remember when being asked the question ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’ was fun, and didn’t make you quake with fear? When I was little I wanted to be a gardener, a poet, a...
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Forty Years Young: Creative Writing Courses in the UK
My twice yearly epic drive home from St Andrews to Cornwall is usually made palatable by Radio 4. Last Friday’s drive was particularly enlivened by Front Row (you can still listen to it here) which...
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Absence, action and all the things that are ‘appening.
I know, I know: I am terrible. Not only did I foist that god awful title on you lovely readers, but I have been just plain unreliable lately, and I owe you an explanation. I can change, I promise. In...
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Picking favourites: the pains of packing
As you lot probably have gathered, at the moment I am packing. Not the usual change of clothes, underwear, wallet and toothbrush packing that I’ve been use to living between Edinburgh and St. Andrews,...
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Transatlanticism
Guys, the day has come. This time tomorrow I will be dragging my life (in 2 suitcases and a carry-on), around Heathrow Terminal 5 and departing to Atlanta. I’ll be leaving my parents’ house sometime...
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The forgotten art of letter writing
Moving across a frigging huge tract of water, away from people I love very much has reignited a dormant passion for letter writing. I used to write letters to one of my closest friends, Tammy, in the...
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Checking out the native wildlife: my new local literary magazines [Part One]
New city means new dim sum restaurant and new literary magazines to me. I’m still working on finding some good pork buns, but there is no shortage of literary magazines in Georgia, so stay tuned for...
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Poet in Profile: Ada Limón
I am so glad to be at a university that really prides itself on its reading series. Not only does it mean I get to hear wonderful things, but it’s such an exciting way to discover new American poets...
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Dear Bobby Jones, this is what I’ve done with your legacy:
I’ve finished half the academic year at Emory. Holy fuck. The last 4 months have passed phenomenally fast. Being someone with a short and excitable attention span, much of this blur escapes me. But it...
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Elizabeth Bishop’s new century & anthlologising influence
So I’m late to her birthday party, but I think that’s ok. A couple of week’s ago was Elizabeth Bishop’s HUNDREDTH birthday. I hope you all celebrated by having a drink or reading one of her poems or...
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