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Poetry by Christina Thatcher on Anti-Heroin Chic
Before I was old enough for funerals,
our rabbits died. The first drowned
deep in a bucket, learning to swim.
The second got so slow her brain
was eaten by rats, her opened skull
still steaming when I found her.
Poetry School Online Course: Lighting the Flame with Christina Thatcher
In May 2020 we will be launching Christina Thatcher's second poetry collection, How to Carry Fire. Ahead of her new online course for the Poetry School, Christina has written a blog post about the burning down of her childhood home, and why, over 10 years later fire still fascinates her. Here's an extract: 'More than ten years on, I still think of our burning home. Every time I sit next to beach bonfires, roast marshmallows, shove kindling into a woodstove, I consider again what fire brings and takes away from us. As a writer, I am fascinated by how fire...
Wales Arts Review Poetry Roundtable: Christina Thatcher, Natalie Ann Holborow and Rhian Elizabeth
'Wales Arts Review loves a good conversation about art and literature, so when the opportunity came up to speak with three of the most exciting young writers in Wales today, we thought than rather than speak to us, it might be a better idea to have them speak to each other. Rhian Elizabeth, Christina Thatcher and Natalie Ann Holborow interview each other about their lives and work.' Read the Poetry Roundtable on Wales Arts Review Buy More than you were by Christina Thatcher from our online shop Buy And Suddenly You Find Yourself by Natalie Ann Holborow from our online...
Costa Rica Calling! Christina Thatcher Continues her Book Tour
Book Launch Tour: More than you were by Christina Thatcher
I’m feeling something deeper too. A fizz in my stomach, a slight edge of fear. It suddenly doesn’t feel that long since my Dad died. I wonder —in the off way people who do not believe in the afterlife might wonder—if my Dad will hear me reading about him. If he’d be happy to fill the room with me, if our voice will carry.
I hope so. Because at the very least, I want him to be proud. The same way he was proud to see my first poem published in a school anthology. I remember him saying that he didn’t understand it but that it looked nice on the page, neat and important.
And, for those of us still alive, I hope this collection will help to start a conversation too. One about loss or addiction or fathers. I hope the poems will offer a small, collective invitation to peer into the dark things in life and talk about them.
For those interested, please do come along to one of my national launches, readings or events and say ‘hello’. Let’s get this conversation going.
