" /> Pighog Press Archives - Naomi Foyle
Image of a Labour Party scratchcard advent calendar, listing their election promises

  What a week. As the fates of the country and the planet whirl in the balance like fragile baubles on a Christmas tree for sale out in a blizzard . . . ADAMANTINE, my third poetry collection, is published today in the UK.  While the United Kingdom still exists!  Facebook friends know I’ve been quite exercised about the General Election, but even before I knew my British Publication Day would be swamped by the most important national poll of our lifetimes, I had decided to wait out the hectic Winterval season and line up some readings in the New Year. I wanted to make a little fuss though, so back in September I hired design wizard Sheila Urbanoski and her gaggle of elves at SheShe to help me refresh my website for the occasion. Given that I was also burning the midnight oil this autumn to help Waterloo Press…

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Cover of Adamantine: a young woman holding an hourglass

  Adamantine [adjective] 1. Made of adamant, or having the qualities of adamant; incapable of being broken, dissolved or penetrated.2. Like the diamond in hardness or lustre3. My third poetry collection! Welcome to the first round of celebrations of the publication of Adamantine (Red Hen/Pighog Press, Pasadena), which was published July 11th in the US/Canada and is forthcoming December 11th in the UK. Containing tributes to an international range of artists and activists, and a lyric sequence responding to my breast cancer treatment, the book honours women’s tenacity and lustre. While the book is not an eco-poetry collection, whether by serendipity or occult foresight, the image of the hourglass is a motif in the poems and cover image; and in its internationalist scope Adamantine is offered in the spirit of global solidarity that Extinction Rebellion has helped ignite this year – a grassroots uprising which may yet save us and our precious…

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After the gusty gales of the past four months it was fabulous to celebrate turning a corner in my cancer treatment this Thursday night, when I read some new poems at the Red Hen/Pighog Pigbaby Rides Again poetry party, sharing a stage in the glamorous Paganini Ballroom of Brighton’s Old Ship Hotel with transatlantic barnstormers Maria Jastrzebska, Ciaran O’Driscoll, Hugh Dunkerley, Tom Sissons, Brendan Cleary, Red Hen Press editor Kate Gale and Pighog host John Davies. It being Day 8 of Chemo 5 I’d been worried I’d flag, but somehow my eyes remained open and my legs vertical til midnight – a taste of my new wild self, or perhaps I’d been turbo-charged by Bob Dylan’s surprise Nobel Prize. As a balladeer, I take Dylan’s win as a tribute to oral literature which should not be honoured simply as the root-field of all poems and novels, but in its own…

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