Former LeftLion Editor Bridie Squires Releases Her Debut Poetry Collection

First off, congratulations on launching your debut poetry book, Duck on Bike. Can you tell us a bit about the collection?
Thank you so much. Duck on Bike is made up of poetry I’ve written over the past ten years. I’m self-publishing. One day I’ll do a ‘proper’ collection – something more curated, with a specific theme in mind, in collaboration with a ‘real-life’ publisher. But Duck on Bike is really a thing of catharsis. These poems needed a home. They are rough and ready, covered in spit and blood, and I’m proud of them as truths and processes. It would have been a disservice to my craft to leave them to die in a Google Drive folder, so now they find themselves in this place, together, as a fucked-up family telling a story. It’s my story, so that diary-esque narrative is very clear to me. I hope that comes through for readers. 

To quote Delivery Day, the collection is “funny and sad all at once”. Although it didn’t feel like it at the time, I now see that writing has been my therapy over the years. Pulling it together, reading it over and over to edit the thing has been quite emotionally draining. It is full of grief, family break-ups, failed relationships, lockdown, and loneliness. But woe is not me. Phone notes and scribbles have birthed celebrations of everyday joys, surreal supermarket trips, cowboy flashbacks, friendship, love and, of course, lots of birds. It’s been amazing working with AJ to pull out images from the work to inform his incredible illustrations. His scratchy, spindly style was just what I wanted. To me, it reflects how the poems feel.

You obviously have a very strong Nottingham connection, and the name of the project speaks to that. How pivotal has Notts been to you as a writer?
Nottingham is my home. For years, I have bombed around it on a Raleigh Burner. I always say that someday I will leave this place, but there is something constantly anchoring me: bagging a job at LeftLion as a shaky-handed, sweaty-palmed kid; being a part of Mouthy Poets collective; becoming NTU’s first Writer in Residence; founding GOBS Collective… Even my one-woman show, Casino Zero, was based on my experiences working as a croupier at the old Gala on Maid Marian Way. I am so grateful and very lucky that I have been afforded all these opportunities. I have worked hard over the years, but I do feel that, on some level, stars have aligned for me in this city. So yes, definitely. Nottingham has provided me a community to grow with, a river to run around, and artists to aspire to.

Your poem Mardy was published in audio form through the BBC in 2018. That has a real focus on local dialect and identity. Does that thread run through this collection too?
Nottingham is in the veins of Duck on Bike. Local areas, streets and landmarks punctuate it, and, in my mind’s ears, it sings with the rounded vowels and dropped consonants of my grandparents. That isn’t to say that I’ve written it in a phonetic Nottingham accent, and I actually decided not to include Mardy in the book. Conceptually, it’s fine, and actually fits with the narrative well, but seeing it written down again made me cringe – I think I overdid it on the phonetically-spelt accent thing. It feels much better as a performance and belongs in the audio waves.

Duck on Bike focuses on finding humour and playfulness in loneliness and heartache, and Nottingham is simply the setting for that. But I guess, on reflection, that feels like a very ‘Nottingham’ way of dealing with things, actually. I’m very much born and bred here. And I feel confident in saying that this is my truth; this is authentically my voice. If it comes across as at all ‘Nottingham’, it’s pretty much an accident – I’ve just written what I know.

A real mix of song, fiction, memoir, poetry. How did you decide on the form of this collection?
I never finish anything. As a kid, as soon as I learned how to play a tune on an instrument, that was that. Let me try the next thing now. I’ve always naturally found myself trying new stuff when it comes to poetry, keen to push it forward into a different direction, and this collection is the accumulation of those experiments. A real mish-mash. I’m very grateful for all the opportunities afforded to me by Mouthy Poets to both play with and showcase my words. All the introductions to new techniques and different artist facilitators – all of this made way for ideas.

The ‘mix of memoir and fiction’ really speaks to the surrealism of some of the pieces. I enjoy taking real-life situations or characters and remixing them with what-ifs, or taking them for a walk along my subconscious for a kind of waking dream. Also, following my one-woman show development using a loop station, I’ve found more of a sense of musicality in my work, and have begun including more song-like sections and refrains. In terms of ordering the pieces, that has been instinctive. Although it does occasionally flash back, there is a linear timeline; while it is often tumultuous, I’m happy to say that everything lands in a place of peace.

A co-founder of GOBS Collective and an active member of the spoken word community, what was it like to get your poems down on paper when you’re so used to speaking them? 
While I know I still have a lot to learn in terms of performance, I am quite confident on stage after years of shitting myself, doing my thing, and finishing on such a high. I have always felt such a positive energy from the room that told me, most of the time, ‘Oh, that went quite well, actually.’ I still get nervous before shows, but I have done it enough now to know that it will probably be okay.

Now, I am scared. On the page, your words have nowhere to hide. This is the kind of thing ‘proper’ poets with ‘proper’ books and ‘proper’ publishers do, isn’t it? And here I am, self-publishing my ‘a poem is never finished, only abandoned’ joys and heartaches. I feel vulnerable. At some point, you have to say, ‘Well, you know what? This is my truth in all its imperfection. If you enjoy it, you enjoy it. If you don’t, you don’t.’ I’m in my Jason Williamson era. Fuck off.

The book is also having a launch! What can we expect from that evening? 
A copy of Duck on Bike in your hands. A glass of fizz. Tasty snacks. A big fat hug. Support performances from my dear GOBS co-founder Ioney Smallhorne and Duck on Bike illustrator AJ. A journey through Duck on Bike from myself. And some proper slinky tunes from my darling Alex Traska.

Ioney has been working on a brilliant and fascinating project called Jamaica and Her Daughters, and she may well bring some of the work from that. I am such a fan of her frank passion and intelligent metaphors. AJ will bring a blend of music and poetry with all his wonderful weirdness. Alex is the founder of MyHouseYourHouse and one half of Loose Joints – you’ll often find him spinning vinyl in the Angel on Sundays. He’s bringing hip hop, soul, funk, and jazz to decorate the evening with. I’m very lucky to have the support of such wonderful people.

As for my sharing, I’m bringing my loop station. I’m looking forward to bringing back to life poems that haven’t been performed for years. It’ll be a journey. A proper knees-up.

Bridie Squires’ Duck on Bike Launch will take place at The Carousel, Hockley, on Saturday 13 May, 7pm. £10 tickets include a copy of the book. Duck on Bike is also available to order for pre-sale at £10 + P&P

bridiequires.com