You'll need an umbrella for this

 

“The title isn’t messing about: these poems soak the page with language that is visceral, immediate and sharp. An exciting debut full of vitality, pain and joy.” Luke Wright

“In this gorgeous debut, Victoria Richards asks ‘What are girls made of?’ And the poems answer: cans of Strongbow; ballpoint tattoos; dirty jokes; ghost bikes tied to lampposts; Ingrid Bergman’s eyeballs. All of the above and so much more is contained in this collection. A world of mothers, journalists, children and girlhoods are all drowned or on fire in You’ll need an umbrella for this. Richards tells us these stories with love, humour, lyricism and the sort of eye for detail which leaves an impression on the heart. I will read these poems for years, pass them onto friends: part secret, part gossip, part gift.” Lewis Buxton 

“Victoria Richards’s remarkable debut, You’ll need an umbrella for this, is more than a book of poems, it is a best friend. These poems will be there for you in the middle of the night when you are lovesick or broken hearted; they will glance you a knowing look when you need one most and make you laugh even when you think you’ve forgotten how. In these poems, without reserve, expectation or apology, Richards is offering us her heart. Accept it and she will make a fire out of beauty and pain, pour vodka on the flames and dance with you in the light.” Amelia Loulli

You’ll need an umbrella for this is very wild and very windswept.

ISBN: 978-1-8380488-8-4

74 pages

R.R.P. £10.99

A sample poem can be enjoyed below.

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You'll need an umbrella for this (including P&P)

You'll need an umbrella for this (including P&P for U.K. only) £13.00 GBP You'll need an umbrella for this (with P&P for Rest of World) £22.00 GBP

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You’ll need an umbrella for this 

I hold on to the handlebars of the buggy 

like they’re an anchor, tethering me to the pavement. 

Without them I am rudderless, adrift – 

my stomach full of metal wool, cutting me slowly. 

No one can see me bleeding right here 

on the street. They just say, “How’s the baby?” 

as my spleen ruptures, my liver withers, twists itself 

inside out. My gums shrivel up around my teeth, 

which start dropping like rain. They form pearlescent 

puddles for you to crunch through. The wave 

surges up, up, up and breaks over the berth of my inner ear;

my eyes leak floodwaters, red with the bodies 

of billions of crustaceans who meet a slow, wet end. 

How ironic – to be a creature born of sea, dead by drowning. 

REVIEWS

"[...] Victoria Richards has created a journey through girlhood to motherhood that invites readers to travel along though her humanity, humour, wry observations and recognisable scenarios. These lyrical poems want to share their stories and show what it is to be human. Their multi-layered approach rewards re-reading."

Emma Lee, full review here.