Wildlife

The first review of Windfalls is in, thanks Mab Jones and Buzz Magazine ! Rather pleased to have been compared to Jean Rhys. 'The word used for its title makes this collection instantly intriguing. It can mean both fruit blown down in the wind, or a large amount of money received unexpectedly. However, the reader isn’t given a sense, here, of such lottery-like good luck. Where windfalls are specifically mentioned, they belong to other people – to those who don’t realise their abundant good fortune. 'In one poem they are “next door’s apples”; in a later poem, those same apples “are still there – / the windfalls, rotting / in garden waste bags”. Other people have their inherited trees full of fruit but, not being gifted such, Wild’s windfalls are of the everyday – of its physical intimacies, its domestic pleasures, and of simply being alive despite life’s many challenges and setbacks. 'With its series of poems about boyfriends and lovers past, against a backdrop of bars and

Join us for the online launch of Windfalls , the new poetry collection from Susie Wild. Readings & Q&A hosted by poet and editor Zoë Brigley. 12 May 7pm UK 2pm Eastern Time (US and Canada) ‘Powerful, beautifully crafted poems... there’s nothing like poetry to cut down the spaces between us, to leap across gaps, make a friend of a stranger.’ – Jonathan Edwards Book your free tickets here and a Zoom link will be sent shortly before the event: https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/susie-wild-launch-of-windfalls-tickets-152623816945

 Thanks to Peter Dareth Evans for these:

Exciting delivery! Windfalls exists! And was, typically, difficult to unpack! Available to pre-order from Parthian and out on 1 May 2021 . Read more to see the unboxing video.  

  ‘“A chase of messages illuminates my screen/through the small hours.” So begins Susie Wild’s new collection, and among things that are fascinating here are the messages these powerful, beautifully crafted poems bring us. From an interaction with a violent taxi driver to the experiences of a mistreated mother to a “whirlwind love” for a husband, this collection understands the power of lyric poetry to bring us real and raucous life. The poems are endlessly engaging, individually and in the ability of the writer to create sequences and consider the emotional arc of a collection. I’m reminded how now, more than ever, there’s nothing like poetry to cut down the spaces between us, to leap across gaps, make a friend of a stranger. Just as, in 'The Starfish,' there’s a commitment to “slowly … fix the broken things,” so these poems show us, again and again, how something of the greatest importance can be crafted from the chaos that life does.’ – Jonathan Edwards Out 1 May 2021. Avail

Hosted by  Parthian Books  Editor and poet Susie Wild, we see Natalie Ann Holborow and Mari Ellis Dunning stir together myth, legend, fairytale and iconic female characters to cast a book-length spell and bewitch, as well as beguile, the reader. With intelligence and imagination they question stereotypes, delve into archetypes, and dissect what we think we know, transmuting old stories, through gorgeous language and idiosyncratic imagery, into new and startling tales, in 'The Wrong Side of the Looking Glass'. Tickets:  http://bit.ly/SCPFEV7

You can now listen to the audio of my poem 'It's 4:30 in the afternoon again, dear' from my forthcoming new poetry collection Windfalls on The Cardiff Review's SoundCloud 

Hello lovelies! I hope you are keeping well. I'm prepping to record a reading and Q&A with students about my forthcoming book Windfalls and my writing process. I recently enjoyed seeing Kim Addonizio read at an online event for Cheltenham Poetry Festival and I have been revisiting her work. This chimed with me: ‘AS A WRITER occasionally tarred with the brush of being a “confessional poet,” feathered with disdain and once even tied to a maypole by roving bands of critics, I’d like to reveal a few transgressions to you here and now. I hope you will forgive me. I can’t seem to stop telling you everything about me in the lineated memoir of my life. This may be because I’m a woman, which means I am an emotional land mine waiting to be stepped on, a weeping, oversharing harpy whose inner weather fluctuates wildly. And women, as everyone knows, often lack that quality of imagination men have in such abundance. ‘In any case, I clearly have an inordinate, some might say excessive, nee