There are moments in writing that feel bigger than they probably look to anyone else.
Today was one of those moments.
Every poem for Poetry in a Northern Kitchen is now typed onto my laptop and sitting together in its very first draft.
Today marks an important milestone.
The first draft of Poetry in a Northern Kitchen is finally complete…
Months of memories, notebooks, handwritten edits, and countless cups of tea. Every poem in Poetry in a Northern Kitchen has now found its place in the first draft.
For months, my home has been filled with notebooks, loose sheets of paper, handwritten edits, sticky notes, and ideas that seemed to appear at the most unexpected times.
Some poems arrived quickly. Others took weeks of rewriting before they finally felt right.
Looking at the pile of papers beside my laptop, I realised something.
This isn’t just a collection of poems anymore.
It’s becoming a book.
Each poem captures a small piece of Northern working-class life. The kitchens, neighbours, laughter, hardship, humour, and the ordinary moments that shaped a generation. Together, they tell a much bigger story.
Seeing every poem listed together on my laptop was a milestone I’ll never forget.
The first draft isn’t perfect.
There will still be editing, rearranging poems, checking the flow between chapters, and polishing each piece until it says exactly what I want it to say.
But the hardest part was getting the stories out of my head and onto the page.
That part is now done.
One step closer to sharing Poetry in a Northern Kitchen with the world.
Forty poems.
Four chapters.
Countless memories.
When I first started this collection, I wasn’t trying to write history. I was trying to capture ordinary life before it quietly disappeared. The kitchens where everyone gathered. The neighbours who always knew your name. The bus rides, the washing lines, the bingo halls, the laughter, the hardship, and the humour that held working-class families together.
These poems aren’t about famous people.
They’re about people like us.
The people who rarely make it into history books, yet built communities through kindness, resilience, and getting on with life.
Finishing the first draft feels both exciting and emotional.
Seeing every poem listed on my laptop was a milestone I’ll never forget.
Forty poems. Four chapters. One manuscript. A lifetime of Northern Memories, now together in a single first draft.
Now comes the next stage.
Over the coming weeks, I’ll be reading every poem again, making changes where they’re needed, strengthening the language, checking the flow, and making sure each poem sits in the right chapter. Some poems will change a little. Others may change a lot. That’s all part of the process.
Writing a book isn’t just about inspiration.
It’s about patience, rewriting, and giving every poem the attention it deserves.
I’m proud of how far this collection has come.
I hope that when readers open Poetry in a Northern Kitchen, they’ll see pieces of their own lives within its pages. Perhaps they’ll remember a parent, a grandparent, a neighbour, or a childhood that feels just a little closer because of these poems.
The first draft may be finished.
But the real polishing begins now.
Thank you to everyone who has followed my journey so far. Your encouragement has meant more than you know.
The kettle’s still on.
There’s still work to do.
But we’re one step closer to bringing Poetry in a Northern Kitchen into the world.
Thank you for reading
Your DislexicPoet 🖤
Leave a Reply