Rebecca Atherton

Poet in Residence at 5th London Poetry Festival 2009

As Deputy Editor Rebecca Atherton has written for both the print and online Magazine of Poets' Letter

 The editor of a literary arts magazine Rebecca spends her life surrounded by words. When she isn’t sourcing contributors, approaching collaborators, submitting funding proposals, proofing and editing copy, agonising over layout, or working on an article, she is hard at work on her third novel or penning a poem. Writing is her life, a pen and leather notebook, or battered, key-worn laptop her favourite tools.  

Formerly a web designer, Rebecca redirected her creative focus in 2002 to pursue a career with more traditional roots. Exchanging her day job and the security of PAYE for something far less sure, she embraced solitude and poverty in a bid to follow her heart. Since then she has been deputy editor of two magazines (CityLife & Poets' Letter), contributed editorial services to many others, written two and a half novels, numerous short stories and over a hundred poems, thinking of little else throughout but writing and the literary world. A little over two years ago she founded Inside Out, a literary arts magazine promoting creativity for self-development and emotional well-being.  

Her books centre around animals and their antics, with her protagonists tending to be of the four-legged variety – due, she says, to her love of the small and the fury. Her poetry, on the other hand, is mainly autobiographical, providing her with a healthy balance between fantasy and reality and keeping her firmly grounded.  

When she isn’t engrossed in the enormous task of putting together a magazine, or busy working out the finer details of her latest plot, she can be found surrounded by several tubes of acrylic, a paintbrush in hand, or lost deep within the pages of a fellow author’s book.  

Her work has been published in magazines, anthologies and online.

http://www.myinsideout.co.uk

How I Came to Poetry and Why I Write Poetry (500 words)

Not so long ago I was in a pretty bad place emotionally, suffering from depression and anxiety. I couldn’t read. I couldn’t write. I couldn’t even listen to the radio. Naturally creative, I felt like I had been imprisoned inside my own head.  

I can’t remember exactly when, but I woke up one morning and realised that I was stuck in this negative cycle and had been for a while. Determined to break out of it before it became “the story of my life”, I began to see a therapist. Understanding the background to my condition and having someone to talk to helped, but I was still a long way from where I needed to be and growing impatient.  

Having researched the creative therapies in the past and been intrigued by them, and having always shared a deep affiliation with poetry, finding comfort and companionship from an early age within the words of a diverse range of poets, I decided to set myself a writing project and actively pursue the process of poetry therapy.  

Although initially hindered by depleted self-confidence and lack of drive, with perseverance I confronted each new obstacle and fought my way through. Trusting myself and writing without editing were the key to this process. Only by really listening to myself and documenting what I had to say without judgement, could I hear what needed to be expressed and honour it. Gradually, I exited the dark box I had been inhabiting and climbed the long ladder back to life. In the end, this vehicle for a metaphorical step back became all I needed to locate those first tentative steps on the road to self-knowledge, self-acceptance and self-love.   

Reading poetry and writing it in this way has transformed my life. I have learnt that in order for me to remain both emotionally and physically healthy, I have to make a conscious effort to regularly document how I feel.  

For me, writing poetry serves multiple purposes. In the moment of crisis it provides comfort and catharsis. Later, rereading reveals a greater perspective, leading to understanding, acceptance and recovery. One poem becomes another and another until the problem is resolved, or at least exorcised to the extent that I can return to my life. Ultimately, I find it comforting to know that I possess the strength inside to overcome the darkness that descends. Remembering this in times of trial saves me from returning to that dark cell.