I was swithering about writing this post, feeling like I’m blahin ma ain trumpet jist a bitty too muckle lately. There’s been hunners gan on, though. I don’t want to fall into the trap of thinking that I’m the greatest thing since the last greatest thing. I’d begun this blog to help me write, but posting work online means that it has little chance of being published. So, what is this blog for?
I like a rant. That is clear to anyone that knows me, but I don’t want to be perpetually angry. I end up being the one carrying the poison around. I’m nae fond of constant moaners. Aberdeen is stappit full of them as it is. I like celebrating things I love far more. So what’s this blog for? Whatever comes out of my crazy head. I’m buzzing at all the good things, so why not share that? I’ve even started an events page, so stalkers can easily find me. Just kidding. If you’re really a stalker, bring cake. The moaners can awa an bile their heids.
Swiftly moving on, after the whirlwind of graduation, I was launched into another epic week. The Aberdeen English Literature Society invited me to do a headline set at their first poetry slam and be a judge. “Wahaha they think I know things!” I exclaimed to my bestie as I rushed from work, grabbing my set out of the printer on the way and headed to the Blue Lamp. Halfway through my set, I realised in horror that I had only printed half of it. The printer must have run out of paper.
THANK FUCK FOR DROPBOX
I made a few jokes and (think) I held everyone with me. I definitely received sympathy applause if nothing else. The judging part was fun, but very tough. They were all so good – and the majority of them didn’t have any paper. Far more professional than their, ahem, headliner.
The universe is telling me to let go of the paper.
Nothing gives me the fear like my head going blank onstage. The paper is like a security blanket. It is there if I need it. I actually don’t. I know my work. Well, most of it.
I went to my second poetry slam, the Loud Poets Giggling Gladiators Invitational at The Mash House in Edinburgh last Friday. I was determined to let go of the paper. I didn’t take paper copies with me. I had my phone on me, with the poem ready if I needed it. I must have been doing something right. I won the slam!
I am still reeling from that. Two slams, two wins. This is madness! But good madness.
The good stuff doesn’t end there. I’m performing a short poetry set out at Inverurie Hospital as part of the Resonate:Disseminate project. It will be at the hospital at 5.50pm but the whole event is from 5pm – 7pm. I’ll have to tone it down. Less swearing, more Doric.
I’m also chuffed to bits that I’ll be reading a piece of flash fiction at Granite Noir on the 24th February 2018 at The Lemon Tree, 11.30am before one of the talks. Go and buy tickets for some of these fabulous events, immediately. I’ll also be doing a pop up reading at the library over the weekend, more details to follow. Keep an eye on my events page, I’m not promising I’ll have the time to blog about everything.
I’m also in talks with local people about starting up my own spoken word night, and running a creative writing workshop. I feel like I am living someone else’s life here, wandering around in a daze, thinking is this really happening? It actually is. I have several photies to prove it. Me, the lassie that ‘doesna di photies’. There are videos too. Let’s not discuss that. I’m only getting used to the photies, and letting go of the paper. That’s quite enough for now. I’ll leave you with a musical ditty that pretty much sums up how I’m feeling at the moment. I’m fair tricket.