Interview: Performance Poetry with Alison Hill

InterviewsLast week we introduced you guys to the upcoming poetry and music event in Kingston known as Rhythm & Muse.  This week, we had a chat with the event’s creator, poet Alison Hill.  Alison was kind enough to share some of her thoughts with us about her work, her passion for local art and what it means to see it performed live right here in our community. 

by Stephanie Dotto and Cais Jurgens

S: So, Alison, tell us a little bit about some of your work as a poet.  Do you have anything new coming out?

A: Well, I’ve been writing since about the mid-90s, submitting to magazines and anthologies and have been published in quite a wide selection of magazines.  Some of my work has been translated into Romanian and German via poetry pf.   I also have some poems in a forthcoming anthology, Poets in Person, edited by Aprilia Zank which features twenty established poets. It’s a follow up to a reading event at The Glassblower pub last year. My new full collection, Slate Rising, is coming out in April with Indigo Dreams Publishing.

S: Who are your favourite poets?  Are there any particular movements of poetry that have inspired your writing?

A: Well Eliot and Yeats have always sort of been with me and I read lots of contemporary women poets.

C: Are most of the poets that you read self-published?

A: Well, not really, no.  But lots of the guest readers that come to Rhythm & Muse come to promote new collections, so I read their work as well.  Anthologies are great for discovering new poets. Continue reading

Advertisement

Happy Holidays From WPN!

The Words, Pauses, Noises team would like to wish everyone a happy holiday season and, of course, a Happy New Year. As each year draws to a close, we reflect on our past fortunes and failures, our mistakes and marvels. With the end of 2013 we would like to thank you all for supporting our endeavor, for coming to see our works and our accomplishments.

This blog is now well into its 8th month, and with the approaching holiday we look back to our first steps and the works we’ve posted. We hope that you too will go through and read anything you’ve not read, perhaps comment and reblog for us as well. Without you, our readers, we would not be able to do such things as put up a competition, or have interviews with published authors.

As we ring in 2014 we remember the old and look to the future with all the joys and adventures it will bring. To you writers out there, may your acceptance letters be plentiful, and your rejections tactful. To our readers, we hope you have enjoyed the works here, and continue to follow us into the coming years.

We’ll return next week with more works, but for this Sunday, we wish you good tidings and plenty of cheer.

Creative Work: Short Story ‘Mechanical Sheep’ by Stephanie Dotto

Creative WorksThis week on Words, Pauses, Noises, the veil between reality and fantasy twists and tears in a beautiful slice of magical realism. ‘Mechanical Sheep’ pulls the adult imagination back to its origins, blurring memories of first loves, the wonder of desire and a fascination with death. Words, Pauses, Noises takes great pleasure in presenting MA student Stephanie Dotto and her short story, ‘Mechanical Sheep’ to our creative platform. 

‘Mechanical Sheep’

By Stephanie Dotto

You sit with a boy you once loved who tells you that in the future we would all be made of metal.  He buys you a drink in a dimly lit bar and recounts stories of the lives that he has led since you saw him all those years ago.  You can’t remember the last time you touched him so you smile shyly and pretend like this is the first time he has lured you into his bed.  He reminds you that his apartment is just around the corner so you grab your things and follow him home.  His room has far less furniture than you remember, housing only a desk and a tall lamp that flickers every time the train passes too close to the window.  You sit on the bare floor, wondering where his bed has gone and where he keeps all his clothes as he hands you a glass of red wine and tells you about the civilization of mechanical men.  He tells you how we will evolve beyond our fragile bodies and delicate skin. He tells you these things as he takes off your dress and runs his fingers along your temporal skin, tracing maps of where the circuit boards would replace your bloodstream.  You remember all the nights spent lying on the floor of his apartment, spinning stories while you fought the urge to sleep. Continue reading