Thank you Paul Anthony for being a part of Echoic Magazine March Issue!
Tell us a little about yourself and your background?
I am a retired detective from Cumbria in the U.K. I'm an independent publisher who has written both television and film scripts either on my own, or with the award-winning screenwriter Nick Gordon whose full-length feature film 'Hunted' hits the screens in 2016/2017. Paul Anthony is my pseudonym. Born in Southport, Lancashire, I'm the son of a soldier whose family settled in Carlisle before I joined Cumbria police at the age of 19. As a detective, I served in Cumbria CID, the Regional Crime Squad in Manchester, the Special Branch, (Counter Terrorist Command) and other national agencies in the UK and elsewhere. I have an Honours Degree in Economics and Social Sciences, a Diploma in Management and a Diploma in Office Management. I'm a former winner of the Independent Authors Network Featured Author Contest and was a Featured Author at the 'Books without Borders' Event in Yonkers, New York, 2012. In earlier years, I was a Featured Author at the Frankfurt Book Fair, Germany.
Some years ago, I published ‘Sunset’ – a collection of 77 poems written by me since the age of 16 years. However, I have literally hundreds of unpublished poems in my collection. Whilst I enjoy writing and reading poetry, my main writing work lies in crime thrillers. So far, I have written 20 and the next one out is expected in March, 2017. I am married to a retired orthopaedic nurse, have three adult children who are all married, and five grandchildren. I live thirty miles from Ullswater, in the Lake District, and (in the other direction) one mile from the remains of Hadrian’s Wall
Read more at Paul Anthony Blog Site
Why is poetry important?
Poetry soothes the mind
How does a poem begin for you, with an idea, a form or an image?
For me, poetry usually begins with a memory as opposed to an image or idea.
Where is your favorite place to write and why?
I do most of my ‘crafting’ and ‘plotting’ on holiday, by the poolside. Here, I am more relaxed and creative. I ‘finish’ and ‘write’ the product in an office at home.
What is the relationship between your speaking voice and your written voice?
I’m quiet spoken and really can’t answer that one
What are your thoughts about social media and poetry? Do you think it helps the poet or hinders the poet?
Social media is a complex item to use correctly as a writer because I truly believe it has changed the way people read. People now ‘scan’ or ‘troll’ words / articles / comments much more than ever before. I believe this has moved many readers away from ‘in depth’ reading. Hence, the rise in popularity of short stories and anthologies. For the poet, it is therefore much easier to present your work to the public using social media, but it is also much harder to sell your work because most poems are quite short and – when presented to social media – often result in a ‘reading’ but not a ‘purchase’.
What is the best advice you have for other poets?
Write about what you know and don’t try to be someone you are not.
What do you see in the future for poets, do you believe that poetry will regain its strength over time?
Poetry will never die. If poets continue to thrive, it will resurrect itself.
Why did you start blogging?
I began blogging because I think it is the most entertaining, and rewarding, way to draw attention to your own work – and, where appropriate – the work of friends and colleagues you might wish to promote.
Do you have any blogging tips?
Regularly add interesting content to the blogsite.
Who is your favorite poet? And why?
PATRICK TOBIN because he writes lovely poetry.
Tango Five Seven
~ ~ ~
A siren screaming and a blue light flashing,
Through the ‘Lakes’ a motor bike dashing.
A gear, a lean and a handful of throttle,
Carving through traffic with skill and bottle.
A radio blaring in a wintry windy ear,
Telling what was waiting, knowing what to fear.
And there was the smash! Straight through the wall!
And Tango Five Seven had answered the call.
Broken bodies, broken limbs.
Unconscious twinkling, brain that dims.
Battered, bruised, bewildered man,
Searching for survivors, the river ran.
Wading in the water deep,
Holding close, her warmth to keep.
Bleeding blood, deep red upon me.
The Lord’s call proving way beyond me.
A kiss of life,
For someone’s wife.
Respiration…. Deep frustration.
And so to hold her as she slipped away,
That angel face, with eyes so grey.
And silky soft, her hair reclining,
But I could not stop her soul declining.
I pumped the heart, as you would friend.
Yet my hands were naught, she would not mend.
‘Come in Tango Five Seven!’
I heard, I sighed, I cried….I replied.
‘Tango Five Seven,
Angel in heaven!’