Friday Is Poets Day 
It’s a bit fraught, isn’t it, writing a biography?
First person, third person?
Too self-effacing, too egotistic?
Too tongue in cheek, too earnest?
I’ll be one of the scratch poets at the wonderful Tonic spoken word night next week – they offered a bit of advance promo if I could supply a short bio. So I dashed this one off in a few minutes.
It feels OK today. Maybe I’ll hate it tomorrow.
Beccy Golding is a late bloomer, discovering her identity as a poet in her 50s, currently exploring all manner of poetic possibilities to see which hats fit best. A lot of her stuff is about women and ageing, family and loss. Someone recently described her poems as creating a “physical, visceral, slightly weird sense world.”*
* The fabulous Chris Redmond of Tongue Fu spoken word project said this about my poems, as feedback at our end-of-course online showcase a few weeks ago. I scribbled it down, I didn’t ask if I could – I’m assuming he won’t mind.
