10 tips for emerging poets this New Year
They're not specific to 2025, kids. It's just a time for fresh starts and renewed hope, eh?
I was going to title this ‘New Year’s resolutions’ but that feels a little restrictive. So, instead, I’m just billing it as 10 tips for emerging poets. The turn of another year allows us to make fresh starts and set new challenges. It can be a daunting and uneasy time of year but it can bring some benefits, too.
These may not all be relevant specifically to you, but I hope that at least a few of them are. As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts - please do let me know if you’ve tried anything from one of my posts, and feel free to suggest specific themes or topics.
Also, this post is free to everybody - so please share it if you find it interesting or useful! Ta very much…
1. Read as much new poetry as possible. A great way to do this is to drip-feed (whilst also removing the burden of choice) by subscribing to the Poetry Foundation’s “Poem of the Day” newsletter. If you can, take notes and/or annotate poems that grip you in some way. And don’t be afraid to magpie...there’s no poet on earth who doesn’t occasionally do it. Just be sure to recycle rather than plagiarise!
2. Set yourself some creative goals for the year. Find at least one aspect of your existing practice that you want to improve on. Choose at least one aim that for you, creatively, is a huge departure (style, subject matter, form, etc.). And set yourself at least one goal in terms of publication, or performance, or the equivalent - something tangible and in the outside world. It doesn’t matter if you don’t meet these goals, but it helps to have them.
3. As often as possible, try to perform to an audience that’s entirely new. Take yourself out of your comfort zone. It can become easy to rely on an audience having an existing impression of what you might talk about or what your style is. And that’s a great feeling, no doubt. But I’ve learnt that the further an audience is from my comfort zone, the more challenging and ultimately beneficial the gig is. This could be geographical (if you’re able to travel). Or it could just be a poetry night with a different dynamic from that which you’re used to. You can also try this online - for example, a Transatlantic poetry event on Zoom. Always second-guess who your audience is and where your poems might have impact.
4. Pick an established poet and spend a little time ‘shadowing’ them. This isn’t as creepy as it sounds. Just use their career to date as a case study - read as much of their work as you can, have a look at their publishing history, where they’re gigging, any notable career landmarks. It’s not a case of copying. It’s just a case of learning how people move through the gears, and if it’s a poet that you admire, it can be very useful to see some of the paths that they’ve taken. Some might be relevant to you, some might not, but there’s no set route, and living examples are the best place to learn. A poet may even be open to having a conversation with you about this.
5. Set yourself mini projects - either as part of your main focus (i.e. a collection manuscript) or as standalone side projects. For example, Krzysztof Kieślowski’s ‘Three Colours trilogy’ contains three films which each focused on the political ideals represented by the French tricolor: liberty, equality, fraternity. You could take the basic idea and just challenge yourself to write a series of poems that simply respond to the colour blue, and then white, and then red. Or you could pick three calendar years and write a series of poems for each: 1998, 2008, 2018, for example. You and I would write wildly different poems for either the colours or the years, but having that overarching theme can be extremely useful. Three smells, three meals, three places, whatever it is - use these mini projects to stretch your inspiration.
6. Challenge yourself to perform a slot without any preamble or context whatsoever. If you only ever do open mic slots, this is less drastic, but if you’re able to get even a 10-minute slot somewhere, just give this a go. Firstly, it allows you to really feel the impact of your poems without any “supporting info”. But also, it trains you to feel comfortable in the silence - just holding the space and taking a breath and remaining in control. It can feel difficult at first. But once you turn the corner, it’s a game-changer.
7. Spend time reading at least one poet whose native language differs from yours. Maybe it’s the work of contemporary Palestinian poet Maya Abu Al-Hayyat, or the obscenely young French poet Arthur Rimbaud from the late 19th century...either way, push yourself to consume poetry written by somebody with a completely different upbringing and world view to you.
8. If all of your poems rhyme, spend at least three months writing only non-rhyming poems. And if none of them rhyme…force yourself to try even a few internal rhymes. Just to see how it feels! A few here and there can’t hurt, and it’s no good being binary on rhyming.
9. Don’t be afraid to explore development opportunities. Poetry is hardly awash with money, but there are some fantastic organisations out there who provide writer development. If you have the budget, Arvon at Home offer some great online workshops, courses, and masterclasses from around £30. Ditto the Faber Academy, although they're more expensive. But also, you may be able to access grants - Arts Council England is harder than ever although there are often localised pools of money for events, writer research, and residencies. New Writing North would be a great place for people in my region to start. We often suffer from imposter syndrome at this point - particularly as poets - but allow yourself to explore these opportunities and take that step up when you're ready.
10. My final piece of advice is just to remind yourself why you’re writing and who you’re writing for. It’s easy to obsess over a warped perception of what “success” looks like. Being published in certain lit mags or being shortlisted for certain prizes. The poetry gatekeepers revel in it, and if you play that game, you’ll encounter an overwhelming amount of rejection. In 2024, I entered 10 prizes/competitions and submitted to 10 poetry mags/journals without any success in either. But I completed a first draft of a manuscript for my second collection (thanks to an immense mentor) and I’m reminding myself every day that creative success is something you define yourself - not that others should define for you. Is it making you happy, are you proud of your work, and are you feeling creatively stimulated? If yes, then you’re succeeding, in my view.
11. Please share this Substack if you like it! Thanks for reading and I hope that you have a fruitful and inspiring 2025.