You are Editor of HAUNT Manchester. What is your idea of the Gothic? Walk us through a typical day in your world.

At HAUNT, I’m treating The Gothic with the broadest approach possible. Our tagline, revealing Manchester’s mysterious side, emphasizes an approach which celebrates the alternative and unusual, whilst looking at possible Gothic influences. From Manchester’s architecture to its myriad of subcultures, there is plenty of Gothic inspiration here and HAUNT seeks to celebrate the city as a Gothic tourist destination too.

The International Gothic Association 2018 conference came to Manchester this year, held at the same time as The Gothic Manchester Festival, so the city certainly has Gothic credentials. Plus it’s the home of The Manchester Centre for Gothic Studies (based at Manchester Metropolitan University) which HAUNT works with, and has shown that the general public really can get a great deal out of engaging with The Gothic. From dark walking tours to Halloween in the City, there is something for everyone here.

So my idea of the Gothic is a constantly evolving form, one that is capable of captivating audiences, as well as capturing cultural undercurrents and dark depths that society sometimes smooths over. To me, the Gothic is the weird and wonderful with some added weight to it.

There is no typical day in the life of a professional Goth! I typically work from the Manchester Writing School building, along with my colleague Helen Darby – who first developed HAUNT as a concept – and Andrew Turbine, who heads our spooky social media. We also have had great contributions from the likes of Lucy Simpson, Matt Foley, J.J Wray, Xavier Aldana Reyes, and many more. I also have a crow on my desk…Edgar Alan Crow, no less! A day could consist of anything from writing articles about the Gothic and alternative histories of places in the city, to interviewing the organisers behind Gothic nightlife, plus working with a range of Gothic-inspired writers.

Although my role does also consist of editing the work of others, I love contributing plenty of writing of my own to HAUNT – as there is a culture blog, plus sections for Events, Walking Tours, Places, Nightlife and Shopping – all with their own Gothic or unusual twist. I absolutely love it.

What is one of most interesting memories since working for HAUNT?

There are two stand-out moments for me. One has to be the launch event for HAUNT Manchester – because HAUNT is a network, not just a website… so connecting people interested or involved in the Gothic from across the city and wider North West. We held the event back in June in The Writing School Building (70 Oxford Street), with Helen Darby significantly behind what was a Gothic get-together of glorious proportions. It featured decoration from The Hungry Dog Emporium Of Curiosities (including a selfie coffin!), music from the ArA DJs , Helen and I wore beautiful Gothic-styled corsets from the city’s own Kiku Boutique and the turn-out was enormous. It was wonderful to celebrate the passion for the Gothic with so many people, and confirmed to us that there certainly is an appetite for HAUNT Manchester. We also gave speeches and I read my poem ‘Ghosted’.

Another stand-out moment is going to visit the Sophie Lancaster Foundation, a charity based in Haslingden which works both nationally and internationally to Stamp Out Prejudice Hatred and Intolerance Everywhere (SOPHIE). It was set up following the tragic death of Sophie Lancaster, who was from the town where I grew up (Bacup) was murdered in 2007, aged just 20- targeted due to her alternative appearance. We were interested in partnering up with the Sophie Lancaster Foundation to support and spread their message of tolerance and acceptance. Meeting Sophie’s mum, Sylvia Lancaster, was a profound experience and we talked about the ways in which HAUNT can work with the charity. I have since written an article which talks about the charity’s development of  Black Roses
resources for schools and colleges.

You are a mental health activist. Tell us more.

I am completely determined that mental health should be treated with parity to physical health. Furthermore, talking about the mind is a massively beneficial thing and needs to be integrated as standard practice, for everyone. To open your mind is both a brave and beautiful thing.

Through a lot of life I have faced anxiety, depression and was severely ill with Anorexia. There were times when I never ever thought I would see beyond it. It has taken time, the support of so many fantastic people and pursuing my passions, which showed me that life is so full, crammed with opportunities and deserves to be enjoyed by everyone. Every single person has the capacity to feel, experience and turn what they face into good.

The recovery process and these realisations for me, made me even more determined to emphasize this to other people. You always can get more out of life – that’s a tantalizing and terrifying thought! There is so much out there for you. I have worked with and written pieces in the likes of I Love MCR, Student Minds, Cathartic and more, exploring mental health themes and accessibility.

What kind of poetry do you write? Would you share a poem with us?

It’s hard to describe poetry as a ‘kind’ – as I’m a bit of a maverick, the things I do seem to crawl in and out of definitions! I guess I’d like readers to make up their own minds, but there certainly is a dark, observational strand when I write. I particularly like to explore the occurrence of oddity of the everyday, the unnerving nature of feelings and the simultaneous power and strangeness of human connection. 

Setting Fire to Seat Naze

They torched the hill until it smoked
Heather hardening to coral, crumbled to ash.
The binoculars you never let me borrow
hung like pistols from my hands.

Your fingers captured in the distance
the stretch of flame from base to summit
which you held like an egg on either tip
like the pin from the object before you’d thrown it.

This was the length of adult patience
This was the length of National Service
This was the length of time in the living room
Before the cry ‘get your tea whilst it’s still worth it’

Your turn from the window I remember most
Like a match-head catches the sandpaper sleeve
But doesn’t light, reduced to the slow grind
Like salt over grandma’s potatoes and beef
For this was the evening we ate in silence
Breaking bread, I saw your fingers tremble
And World at War you’d left on the box
‘We shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.’

Do you do any other forms of writing?

My jobs all involve article writing – I am also the Editorial Assistant at I Love Manchester, where I cover content celebrating the city and its cultural achievements. I also have written poetry and lyrics to be performed with bands (including St Lucifer, Room 1985 and Vieon on AnalogueTrash) and I am a music writer at Louder Than War and Bittersweet Symphonies. I have written some unnerving short stories, but I’m not sure if they will see the light of day…

What are you reading at the moment?

I am reading The Gallows Pole by Benjamin Myers – a fascinating alternative history of the North. It follows the story of the Cragg Vale Coiners in 18th century Calderdale, an area not far from where I grew up and studied as part of my dissertation (looking at the impact of West Yorkshire on the work of Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath).

Do you believe in life after death?

I’m wavering, but that’s not necessarily a bad position.

Tell us a story in five words….

She gave them her hair.

(Photography: David Fox)

Can you introduce yourself to our readers? How long have you been writing for?

I am 69 years old and I live with my wife near the coast at Mumbles, Wales, UK. I am addicted to swimming in the sea every day of the year. Some of my poems are inspired by the sea, but the range and styles of my poetry is eclectic.

I love the idea of finding a poem somewhere. What inspired you to leave poetry on pebbles?

Being in the sea every day at Rotherslade Bay, and seeing the large number of benches there for visitors to sit and admire the view, prompted me to leave poems on pebbles there for everyone to read.

Where do you leave them? How many have you left?

I have left 10 to date. The number is constrained by the number of seats, but there are many more seats on the enjoining bay Langland, and I think I will start leaving them there as well.

Is there a theme to your work?

There is no theme to my work other than the “spirit” that moves me to write. I average a poem every two days. Once I have leeched the emotion from my mind, the writing is almost spontaneous and I do not “craft” my poems.

Have you had any feedback from people who have found them?

Yes, the people I speak to think it is such a great idea. I spoke to an elderly couple who had one of my pebble poems on their sideboard at home and their granddaughter loved it. I hope it will provide the idea that poetry is for everyone and not just book readers.

Will you be leaving many more?

I think I will continue to leave them at the seaside. The ink does fade after a few weeks, and I will replace them with new ones.

What or who inspires you to write?

I was born and live in Dylan Thomas’s “ugly lovely” town. His poetry is exemplifies “tight”word-craft. The poet who inspires me more than any other is RS Thomas. I do not have a car and walk everywhere all year around in all weathers, and, also, I have run a Photoblog since 2005, so every single day something, or the feel of a day’s events, inspires a poem. When I relax in my armchair after my swims I find things “come to me” unbidden along with the words and rhythm to express them. I call it the muse in my mind and the bard in my bonce. It is slightly uncanny the way it works.

Which writers / poets do you read?

I read all sorts of poets and poetry. I buy them all from the local Oxfam charity shop and I am enthralled and intoxicated by the different smells that fall from each book, and my imagination sees the previous owners in their time.

What are you reading at the moment?

Philip Larkin and T S Eliot, with Shakespeare’s sonnets waiting in the wings.

Do you have some poems which you would like to share with us?

Upon the Pyre of the World

At the sunset of the fishes,
upon the pyre of the world,
my: I told you! I told you!
Will wash no more dishes,
when the half-mast flag’s unfurled.
Adieu, adieu, adieu,
my beloved Gaia girl;
for we are floating down the Ganges,
upon the pyre of the world.

Music Returns To Auschwitz and a Lone Voice Sings

such longing, such an aching lamentation.
why do you not scream out, or
laugh in an inconsolable madness
and release me from the gibbet
of your anguish?
that i could manage,
that i could cope with.
and, no, i do not want to forget,
but there is beauty in the purity of the
voice that impales the pain;
it holds me spellbound.
i weep now for all mankind;
doomed, doomed, as we are,
doomed to relive a myriad deaths
and shades of suffering
before the end.
oh, i bleed down these ochre walls,
as i relinquish into a sea of wailing
all of my sorrow;
i dread what yesterday will bring
unto the ‘morrow;
it lacerates my sadness
to hang empty upon the night air,
and i wail and wail, but to no avail;
for alas is never enough;
is it?

The Sea Swimmer in Winter

(The Sea Swimmer in Winter on YouTube)

Beyond the breeze,

under the winter sun,
the sea is calling me,
–calling me,
—calling me.
Seething in the breath,
of the north wind’s spume,
in the push and pull of the tides.
That’s where my secret abides.

The blue jelly fish have pulled back
to where the cormorant stands on end.
As a grey seal bobs with ebony eyes,
and the snows press down the bay.
My knees compose some purple prose,
that will last me through the day.

Harder the winter,
larger the spring in my step,
where I see, in the icy briny,
that perennial phoenix of spring.
That frisson of flight,
born in the glassy might
of the quenching, churning tides.

Baptised, reborn, each shingle day,
in my way, in my bay, away
in the dappled waves of my sea,
my sea
–my sea,
—my sea

Away in the dappled waves of my sea,
my sea.
When I am dried by the sun and wind,
then, only then, am I alive.
As alive as live can be.
–Alive as the roaring sea.
—Alive as a swimmer in winter.
In the sea where he’s meant be.

In the sea where he’s meant be.

Jim on Twitter