It is the last week of February 2019. A year ago I handed in my notice to my old job and now, here I am, a fortnight after publishing my first ever collection of poetry. Whaaaaat??? I know, right? Crazy. Yes, yes that is awesome – thank you for noticing. My new book “Fear Country“, is out right now, available for you to own for the mere price of £8.99 (less than a Domino’s pizza). You can get it on Kindle too for £5.99.
I said, when I left that job, that I wanted to write, and that’s exactly what I’ve done. I mean, there was a lot of other stuff packed into the last year, too – developing worrying attachments to the diverse and complicated plot arcs of Peak Practice, growing too much rhubarb and then trying to figure out what the fuck to do with said overabundance of rhubarb, freaking out too many times at being overdrawn and then figuring out a way to make less money work, getting a lodger, starting my own small business selling handmade bits…but there has been writing. Hours and hours of writing. Walking and writing. Music and writing. Sitting in cafes and in bed, scribbling and thinking and pulling together words. Writing and unpacking a whole lot of abandoned crap in my brain – getting to know myself, my traumas and the ways they have affected me, trying to let some of that shit go. The book is a culmination of poetry written over the last 8 years (all revisited, rehashed, rewritten and polished for the book), but with lots of new things written in this last year alone. I’m not going to lie, this book is emotional – I was once told that my poetry is maximalist and confessional – but I hope you don’t hold that against me.
The book is a lot about grief, depression and other magical things my brain likes to do, but it’s also a lot about love, hope, healing…lost umbrellas and toast. The writing of the book has been a practice in trying to make friends with myself and heal some hurts that ran deep. Though I can’t say for sure that I’m “healed”, I am definitely lighter for it, and I can look myself in the eye without flinching so much. It’s a strange thing to have a physical printed copy of my very own, very first book in my hands after setting out to do just this a year ago. I’m hoping this will be the first book of many. I hope that, should you choose to buy a copy of this first book, this journey through my fear, and should you read it, some tiny spark will hit you and hold out a hand to you. I hope you like it. I hope you know I’m happy. I hope.
Love Alice xx