This page: Colours / Colors by Angela Readman Postcard from a Waterless Lake by Lisa Matthews Sex & Death by Kathleen Kenny Glass Tales by Marlynn Rosario 1956 by Margaret Wilkinson Branch Lines Fiction

Cover of Colours/Colors

Colours / Colors by Angela Readman
ISBN 978-0-9539196-1-1

At the launch of Colours/Colors (on National Poetry Day, 4th October 2001) Angela Readman gave a very animated reading. Here's a sample:

Angela Readman in action!

Greeting cards

I should have known,
when for Valentine's he sent
the wings plucked from
angels I tried to believe in,

on Mother's day there would
be a card-
red spots on white tissue.

"Moving between the mythic world of Hollywood film or fairy stories and the everyday, Angela Readman makes the reader look anew at the world. Her language is both shocking and captivating; Julie Myerson described it as 'visceral in the most breathtaking way'."

Mslexia no. 9


Angela Readman

Angela Readman comments:

"When I read the biography at the back of Colours / Colors I'm not sure if I recognise myself. The words are true, I did those things, but it seems like a biography that belongs to somebody else. Somebody who knows what success is, and how to go about it. What people don't tell you about is the stillness. That writing doesn't always equate with feeling as if you had earned that status on the back of these books those people seem like writers, they are earning the capital W somehow with what they do.

"Since the book came out I haven't been transformed into whatever this creature writer is, the elusive mythical seeming beast who earns her keep from her pen. If people ask what I do, I still say I'm unemployed. I don't go to groups. Mostly I renovate this decrepit house. I'm not able to earn a living from writing yet, and life goes on in thick Dulux layers.

"It all seems like a very long time ago. I read the introduction, the dedication, the poems, and most of it still feels like me. If I was adding a footnote to the book I'd like to think it would be a disclaimer to the would be published:

Disclaimer to the would be published

This little book will not change your life.

Some of your best friends won't buy it, and your mother will not mention what she thinks.
Don't expect a review, you may never see it, but still will always wonder if there's anyone out there, and how bad it was.
You will spend time composing your worst case scenario, and worry that the cashier at Safeways is laughing when you sign for your aloe vera and Andrex.
Now that you have this book you will worry about its welfare, where it is, who it's hanging with and what it is doing.
In return, it will tell you nothing.
You may be held hostage by it - there will be poems you wish you'd put in, and some you would have left out.
Sometimes it will get abusive and ask: what are you going to do now that you've got me? And the truth is you don't know. You won't know if anybody bought it, if there is any life after Diamond Twig (the truth is for so long you set your heart on it, and now that you've got it you could be in limbo, still scared of asking to play with the big boys down the road.)
Most of all, this little book will not make you a writer.
It will not change your life, and afterwards nothing will be the same.

I am the same me who wanted to be a writer, and was afraid to admit. The same me with the same lapses of confidence in getting out there and knowing how to introduce shy work to the world. Like everybody else I'd like to know what to do about a full length collection, and I'm earmarking any windfalls in the future to pay for a poetry MA at Newcastle (One day ...)

But Once Upon a time there was Angela Readman, she was a writer. It's there in black and white.

As far as I know nobody reviewed the book, I don't know if anybody bought it, but it's there. I hold Colours in my hand and touch my name in white lettering and a glossy black background and it feels like a passport, it's some form of evidence. I don't know everything I'd like to know about poetry, but I'm clutching this little book, making prints all over with my fingers. I don't know where I'm going next, but there was something someone liked, I'm holding tight. It's my way in.

Angela Readman's second solo collection, Sex with Elvis, includes the poems for which she won the 2004 Biscuit Poetry Competition.

"Readman makes pictures that stay in your mind long after the poem has been read. Sharply observant, dry, savage, and wholly authentic. Genuine work from a genuine new voice- a voice which will be heard."


"Sex with Elvis feels important, as all good poetry should. Read it, taste it! It's bloody wonderful!"

Julia Darling

Her web site, includes tips for new writers and other things.