Katey Lovell

This weekend my local area celebrated ten years of our community celebration, The Woodseats Festival.  The week-long event offers activities aimed at all ages - culminating in festival day with a parade down the main road to Woodseats Primary school where there's a craft fair, stalls for local businesses/food vendors, a small fairground and a stage for dance/drama/music. Last year I was shortlisted in both the poetry and short story categories of the writing competition (there wasn't one this year, as far as I'm aware), and was invited, along with the other shortlisted entrants, to read my writing at an event at Woodseats library.  I bought a new dress especially... It was incredibly nerve-wracking to stand up and share my work, especially My Sherbet Lemon as it was a personal account of my miscarriage in April 2013.  By the time I reached the final poignant line, my eyes were prickling with tears, but somehow it was cathartic to say the words ...

A few weeks ago, my best friend Jen sent me a text.  Nothing unusual about that - we're usually in contact at least four or five days a week.  But when I opened it and read 'Can I call you later?  I need to ask you something,' my heart stopped.  What on earth could it be?  In fact, for the hours before she called me back I was thinking all sorts, and I'd convinced myself it was going to be something awful.  All I could think of was her wedding in six weeks time, and that she'd changed her mind about me being a bridesmaid.  When she'd asked me to take on the role back in September, my eyes had filled with tears in the middle of Kings Cross station's branch of Pret. I'd been so excited at the prospect of playing a part in her big day, and after twenty-seven years of friendship I couldn't wait to stand by her side as she married her lovely Aussie fiancé Chris.  Jen (L) and me (R) in either 1992 or 1993 I tried t...

  I first saw the call for submissions for inclusion in this anthology on the Comps and Calls website and immediately knew I'd be sending my poem  Invisible Ribbons for consideration. Invisible Ribbons was a long time in the making.  I first started writing it in 1998, inspired by a photograph of my family which sat on the desk in my uniform room in halls of residence.  Back then it rhymed and was pretty longwinded, but it did meet the criteria I'd set myself - to reinforce that a family is still a family, whether or not it is complete, and that the person no longer alive is no less a part of it. I rewrote the poem for a competition in 2012, completely changing all of it but for the theme and a few key images.  It somehow felt more honest, especially after eliminating the rhyme.  It didn't win the competition, but the poem definitely benefitted from this reworking. So when I saw the call for Bear the Pall (which at that time was an u...