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Alyson Hallett luxuriates in an unusual writing week that’s actually mostly dedicated to writing, with a side serving of bonfires, friends, yoga al fresco and getting enjoyably lost in the woods.

That first phrase or line is like a magnet drawing other words to it and they begin to gather, sometimes quickly, sometimes over years, but again have to be scribbled down before I forget them.
‘If I move to my laptop too soon I find it cuts off experiment and somehow ‘sets’ the poem in a way that makes if harder to make fundamental changes.’