Tag / writing

by Carol J Forrester

Writerly Rejections And Cheesy Cheer Ups

Building a career as a writer is always going to involve rejection and I’m no stranger to it. About mid-way through 2020 I decided I was going to start submitting properly to literary journals and websites which is a guarantee that I’d quickly find myself very well acquainted with ‘thanks, but no thanks’ emails. I’d sent off work before 2020 (as you can see by my pre-2020 publications), but this was the point I started keeping track of where, and what I was writing in a spreadsheet. 

I was lucky. The first poem on my spreadsheet (Credit Card Gal) was published by The Fieldstone Review, the Daily Drunk then accepted ‘When Medusa Goes Shopping’, and my short story ‘For The Love of Jellyfish’ ranked as a finalist in the London Independent Story Prize. In total, I sent out 14 submissions to journals, prizes, and competitions, and got back three publications. 

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by Carol J Forrester

Poems Against Platitudes, No.7 by Carol J Forrester

Outside the sky has shifted to tin, but the rain holds off
even as the clouds buckle
thick bellies heavy against the horizon,
beached mothers in their slow, sloping movements.
A tremor that might be a plane, or a kick, or my imagination
is proof enough of life.
I needed proof today.
The world has emptied, drained out while I slept
still damp along the edges but vacant.
I need the sky to fill me up.
by Carol J Forrester

#Poems Against Platitudes, No. 6 – Carol J Forrester

There were no feathers, though my father looked
torch an oily, smoking star
he bid me follow north.

We found bones.

Cracked open for their marrow, stacked
in heaps against the walls
too brittle to be clever
no matter how my father willed it.

He took one with a sharpened end
kept it in his palm, even while we slept.

I knew he feared the dark.

We ate beef, until the maggots set in
and then we built ourselves an escape
from the ruins of its ribcage.

No feathers, only broken bone.

No feathers, only broken hope.
by Carol J Forrester

Poems Against Platitudes, No.1 by Carol J Forrester

When they say “nothing in life is handed to you”
I’m going to call bullshit.
Here:
every small, pricking doubt I’ve cradled
like a haphazard stack of crockery.
You can take it.
Each shard was gifted to me
without asking.
It is long past time I found someone willing
to clear out the cupboards in my chest. 
See how well I have nursed them
how big some of them have grown?

‘It’s All In The Blood’ by Carol J Forrester available from Amazon on kindle and in paperback.

We come from sheep thieves and cattle rustlers…
We have learnt what is proper…
Streaking towards the bogland…

Packed with mythology, history, and powerful women, Carol J Forrester’s debut collection centres on family, ancient mythology, and womanhood in the twenty-first century. Zeus is spearfishing over Stranraer, Megera is standing her ground, and Jormungandr wants to consume everything. Exploring the complications of expectations, and how the past can shape who we are, this collection is an accumulation of thirteen years of poetry.

“The poems are vivid and confidently crafted…” Helen Kay (This Lexia & Other Languages V. Press)

“A bold, brutally honest and dazzling debut collection…” Deborah Edgeley (Testing The Delicates)

“Gentle and reflective with an underlying poignancy…” D. Peach (The Rose Shield Tetralogy)

“…teeming with poems coming to terms with Forrester’s strength of voice – a voice which sings with the clarity of a poetry capable of holding all of life…” Liz Lefroy (GREAT MASTER / small boy (2021) Fair Acre Press)