Creative Writing

Some places give themselves up in an afternoon. Others withhold, and ask to be read the way we read a difficult poem — slowly, twice, out loud if no one is listening. Brampton is one of the withholding kind. I went looking for its official history and found four ledgers stacked one on top of another, and then I went looking for something the ledgers could never hold. Here, first, is the poem that came out of that looking. Read it before you read anything I have to say about i

On writing a landscape you mean to become part of Words by Alden Carrow On writing a landscape you mean to become part of Peat under the fingernails. Rain finding the seam in an old coat. A boot sole worn thin by the same miles, walked a hundred times. This is where the real question lives — not in the abstract, but in the wet ground underfoot. The question is this: what does it mean to write about a landscape not as a visitor passing through, but as someone who intends to be

What does a poet do with a place that can’t be saved, can’t be celebrated, and will not recover? A place the world has simply finished with? Because there is a strong temptation, writing a poem like Cleator Moor, to flinch at the last moment. To reach for the redemptive ending. To find the wildflower growing in the rubble, the child laughing in the empty square, the green shoot that promises the town will rise again. We are trained to want that. We feel that a poem owes its

Every town in Britain keeps two stories about itself, and they are usually at war. Camborne is one such town — and the question it forced on me is one every honest writer eventually has to face. This is the central problem behind so many working class poems, including my own. How does a poet write about labour and hardship — about a place built on the broken backs of working people — without either romanticising it or reducing it to nothing but misery? Because there are two e

Words by Alden Carrow On copper, granite, and cider: why the prettiest views in Britain are really monuments to forgotten work — and what that teaches us about reinventing the places we love. Every Beautiful View Is Hiding Something British landscape history is never just scenery. How does a poet — or indeed any observer — handle a landscape that carries a working past beneath a pastoral present? This is the central tension of the British landscape. We often look at a beautif

Words by Alden Carrow Stand on the front at Bude when the swell is up, and the wind decides which way you lean. The tide tells you the hour better than any clock. The salt finds your lips before you've spoken a word. A picturesque inviting illustration of a historic Cornish Seaside Town. This could be a quaint cobbled street lined with charming independent shops or a view of a bustling sea front. What is it that small coastal towns actually do that our great cities have forgo

Words by Alden Carrow Solitude is not a punishment; it is an instrument. We are social animals. We thrive on connection. Yet here is the paradox at the heart of every writer: we write about human connection, but we can only do it well once we have stepped far enough back to see it clearly. Think of a painter. To paint the mountain, they cannot be standing inside the mountain; they must stand some miles away. Solitude provides that distance. And the best place I know to find i

Published 2nd June 2026 There is a particular pleasure in reading poetry the way it was meant to be read — slowly, aloud, with time to let each line settle. From Thursday 4th June, you'll be able to do exactly that wherever you happen to be, because Cornwall In Verse – Tide To Tor In Poetry arrives on Kindle. Cornwall In Verse – Tide To Tor In Poetry will be available on Kindle from Thursday 4th June 2026. The Cornwall poetry book has been available in paperback for a little

Words by Alden Carrow We’re told that quiet towns are hiding something. That if a place looks peaceful, there must be a body buried under the floorboards. Switch on any prestige drama and you’ll find a sleepy village whose real story is murder, scandal, or rot. I want to suggest the opposite. That the quiet of a market town isn’t a cover-up — it’s the achievement, and the poetry of place is hiding in plain sight, right there on the surface. Cornwall In Verse - Tide To Tor In

Why every rejection is sediment — and how to survive the dark water between poems. The professional life of a poet is a study in surfaces. When you browse the spine-out collections in a quiet bookshop or trace the cover of a literary magazine on a coffee table, you are observing only the light that has been caught and held. Beneath it lies the sediment — the years of silence, the rejection slips that pile like drifted snow, the lightless cold of the submission queue. For ever

The fells do not care for the map-maker’s ink, Nor the shop-front where the bright things sold. They wait for the walker who pauses to think, In the quiet, the damp, and the cold. It is not in the shouting the forest is made, But in rings that expand in the dark. Where the debt to the soil is honestly paid, And the light leaves a permanent mark.

The question arises: in an age of fleeting social media and relentless digital noise, why does a poet need an author website?

Words by Alden Carrow The Grey Stratum and the Digital Motorway of LinkedIn There is a specific kind of silence found in the modern office, a hum of servers and the soft click of keys that constitutes what I call the grey stratum. It is a layer of existence defined by professional motion, by the endless stream of self-congratulatory milestones and the pursuit of synergy. To many writers, the idea of promoting poetry on LinkedIn feels like an admission of defeat, a surrender t

In a world where social media algorithms demand constant change and instant reactions, the work of a writer often disappears before it can be fully appreciated. The rapid pace of timelines and feeds leaves little room for reflection or deep connection. Yet, platforms like Substack offer a different path—one that values patience, intimacy, and slow growth. Writing poetry or essays on Substack is not about chasing viral moments. It is about building a lasting creative presence,

There is a tarmac path up Orrest Head in the Lake District — a smooth, accessible route that allows everyone, regardless of ability, to reach the summit and share in the view. Self-publishing is, to my mind, the literary equivalent of that path. It is not a lesser route. It is a deliberately built one, designed to let more people through. The Old Gatekeepers and the New Landscape In the past, the traditional publishing industry functioned much like the central massif of the L

Now, I know what many of you are thinking. The very juxtaposition of deep, reflective, slow poetry and a fast-paced, algorithm-driven, hyper-visual social media platform like TikTok seems entirely contradictory. It sounds like an oxymoron. TikTok is often viewed as the ultimate 'surface transformation' of our culture. It is perceived as a place of fleeting trends, of fifteen-second dances, of loud music, of paper lanterns burning very briefly against the damp of the digital v

Cornwall’s dramatic coastlines and deep-rooted history have long inspired artists and writers. Among these, poetry stands out as a powerful way to capture the spirit of this unique region. Through verse, poets bring to life the wild seas, ancient landmarks, and the character of Cornwall’s people. This post explores how poetry reveals Cornwall’s landscapes and heritage, with insights from the British Counties In Verse collection, showing why Cornwall remains a rich source of p

Where cliffs lean close and waters churn, The harbour waits for tides to turn, A crooked path, a witch’s lore, The sea spells secrets on the shore. The valley breathes in moss and mist, Each stone by storm and story kissed, A raven arcs through salted air, Its cry a charm, both dark and rare. The flood once came with roaring might, Yet Boscastle held through fear and night, Now gardens bloom where torrents ran, A testament to heart and hand. So walk the edge where

Words by Alden Carrow The Labyrinth of Amazon KDP: A Poet's Path to Publishing Navigating Amazon KDP as a poet requires patience and strategy. Explore the tools from KDP Select to Amazon Ads, understanding how to share your work without losing its essence. Navigating Amazon KDP as a poet requires patience and strategy. Explore the tools from KDP Select to Amazon Ads, understanding how to share your work without losing its essence. There exists a peculiar chasm between the qui

There is a peculiar weight to a landscape that refuses to be merely seen. Cumbria, with its ancient fells and brooding lakes, holds such a weight. It is a place that insists on being felt, walked, breathed, and, in my current work, written. For the past months, my focus has been entirely consumed by the slow, often arduous, process of shaping this particular corner of England into language, for a collection I'm calling 'Cumbria In Verse – Lakes To Fells In Poetry', due for pu