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Archive for December, 2011

Sarah’s first post

You say, here’s the thing.

The thing being that I can never say no to a good challenge, with a doubtlessly good opposition.

Phil and I met at Literary Deathmatch Dublin, Episode 5. We spoke briefly and intensely in the smoking area before staying very closely in touch: it was obvious that our climb through the jungle of the literary world was one that however different, alike in many, many ways.

He’s been journeying through this wildness with more success than I have, and has without fail encouraged me and helped me hugely since we met. Also, we’re both from the same long roads and housing estates of the Northside suburbs of Dublin City, so our humour and cheekiness is very much alike.

Phil mentioned below that poems aren’t what he does. I disagree from the get-go. Poems are just what happen in your brain poured through your wrists onto a page or into the keyboard of a laptop. You prune them, you nurse them, you leave them to incubate, you nurse them some more, then they’re done. If you can think, you can write poetry.

I hugely agree with some of his reasons for undertaking this project: this is a public and daring and scary way to get to know another literary minded person. We’re inviting everyone along for the ride. Oh, lucky you, dear internet.

So here’s 100 days over a year where our guts and anger and joys will be splayed through black pixels the shape of words all over this site.

Stay pure turned, it’s gonna get ugly.

Party on.

x

griff

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Here’s the thing

Here’s the thing.

Over the next 100 days, Sarah Maria Griffin and I are going to take it in turns to write and publish poems on this site – fifty each, over the first 100 days of 2012.

At the end of those 100 days we’ll get together and read some of the best ones in Dublin and ask you what you thought of them.

Sarah will start on January 1 and I will either answer her poem or go off in a different direction the following day, and so on.

The only rule is that the poem must be published each day before midnight – other than that, there are no rules.

My reasons for doing this are threefold – for Sarah’s, you’ll have to ask her.

The first reason is that this is not what I do.

I write articles and books and copy, mostly non-fiction, but it was putting words together into poems as a child that led me into this existence as a writer.

The second is that I liked Sarah from the moment I met her, but I can’t say I really know her – this is a very public way to solve that dilemma.

The third reason is an extension of the second – on the surface, we are very different people. I left Ireland a dozen years ago, I’m 40 with a wife and two children, and my writing skills have been learned through journalism rather than literature.

Sarah is a twentysomething with a masters in creative writing who grew up in the same geographical patch but a world away from where I came from. She still lives in Dublin, making a living as a poet and writer-in-residence.

But despite our obvious differences, I feel we have a lot in common, other than the obvious fact that we are both from Dublin’s northside.

How much more than that do we have in common?

The next 100 days will tell.

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