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The mysteries of the poetry publishing business...

BORING

BOXES

So it's not all reading windows, and competitions, and new publications. Or whatever else people think poetry publishers (even little ones) do.

Much of the necessary and time-consuming stuff is too ordinary to talk about. It makes for a boring blog.

But I'm not averse to boring people. Otherwise they might think it's all FUN here.

So my August was sorting out the archives in the roof, and getting some of the boxes ready to send to the National Library. It involved dust and cobwebs, ladders and trips to the dump – sorry 'recycling centre'.

And then there was the self-assessment return and updating the accounts. Lord knows, this takes days and days and days.If I would only do it every month it wouldn't be so bad, but I start well each year, and then suddenly I'm five months behind.

And then there's stock-taking. And taking stock.

Ordering new envelopes, all sizes, for despatch and for cards. More boxes!

Ordering new labels, new toner, new pencils, new batteries. 

And letter writing (some people do still write them, by hand, and on paper).

Reading poems for non-window people (promises are promises).

A bit of tidying my desk, and in this case ordering a new one, since this one can't be moved without collapsing. And a new chair, since the current one is the polar opposite of ergonomic.

Getting hair cut. Visiting old friends. Some of them very old.

A funeral or two. Review of black or grey clothes.

Getting teeth scaled and polished (*grins and flashes teeth*).

Working on one small poem of my own. Slowly.

Bramble picking and making jelly.

Watching the crab apples ripening. (Crab apple jelly soon.)

Reading Peter Main's excellent biography of Ruthven Todd.

Reading Matthew Walker's rather worrying book about sleep.

Making ice cream.

Clearing and cleaning the freezer.

Making bread.

Drinking Pact coffee.

Thinking.


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GDPR AND POEM PRIVACY POLICY

GDPR_LOIS

 Poems don't have to have a Privacy Policy. But websites do. Or any organisation that collects personal data that might be used for nefarious purposes.

And we do worry about personal data. We worry about our phone numbers, and our dates of birth, our bank accounts and our passport numbers. We worry while giving them to all sorts of people for all sorts of purposes.

And now some of us suddenly worry about a new set of capital letters: GDPR. The General Data Protection Regulation.

Health Warning: the rest of this blog is quite dry. You could just skip to the poem at the end if you're not feeling strong. Or go for a nice walk.

The GDPR is a piece of European legislation (please don't mention Brexit) designed to protect consumers Europe-wide. It gives more rights to the individual and more obligations to organisations holding personal data.

The GDPR is, to be precise, Regulation (EU) 2016/679 of the European Parliament and of the Council of 27 April 2016 on the protection of natural persons with regard to the processing or personal data and on the free movement of such data, and repealing Directive 95/46/EC.

In the UK, matters of data protection, including this one safe-guarding 'natural persons', are looked after by the ICO, the Information Commissioner's Office. This is the government-appointed body that recently carried out a much publicised investigation into Cambridge Analytica.

Innumerable worthy, smaller, not-for-profit organisations (like HappenStance Press) have also had to think hard about GDPR, because they too are subject to the new regulation, and need to ensure they're doing things properly.

Which is why everyone who uses email will have had multiple emails recently asking them to re-subscribe to X, Y or Z.

The idea is that we shouldn't be receiving marketing or sales emails unless we have expressly asked for them. (The word 'consent'is now the lynch pin.)

After May 25 (next week), every organisation that holds your contact details, and uses them, should have asked your permission explicitly first. They should observe the key principles of article 5 of the GDPR.

Some organisations who hold your contact details have little idea whether they originally asked your consent or not (contact addresses were sometimes shared or purchased in the past) and in any case they want to make double sure.

So they are all asking us to confirm that we want to stay on list A, B or C. (And they are nervous, because the ICO can fine people for not doing things properly.)

The advised consent procedure for mail-shots is called 'positive opt-in' and it works as follows. You go to a website (like this one) and enter your details into a box to be added to a contact list. But you're not actually on that list until you reply to an email which invites you to confirm. When you confirm, this is proof of 'consent', i.e. proof you really really mean it. At least, you really meant it at that moment. Ease of unsubscribing is also important.

So on this very blog page, you will see, in red, instructions on how to subscribe to receive future blog notifications. If you enter your name and email address in the relevant box and click, you will be advised to look out for an email to confirm. 

You look out for the email. You open it. You click again (life is all clicking these days). Now you have consented. Hurray!

Oh but I haven't mentioned the bit about confirming that you're not a robot, which is straightforward so long as you can see. Issues such as these are raised by Giles Turnbull, on his blog. Accessibility is a key issue here, and one that is not always top of the agenda when it comes to legislation.

I understand why people may be uneasy about registering their names, addresses and emails on this website when they purchase books. Why should they trust a little press with a happy-go-lucky name like 'HappenStance'? The information seems to be disappearing into a medium that nobody quite understands, at the same time as we read alarming stories about hackers and alien intelligence. Well, hackers anyway.

It may not help that we promise to keep the information safe, although from now on, HappenStancecustomers can read the Privacy Policy, which I put together this week when I could have been writing a poem. But will it reassure?

There is a good alternative to buying things online. It's called a shop. People can still order books from bookshops without revealing their full personal details. Bookshops are good places, especially indies like The Lighthousein Edinburgh. A bookshop doesn't need personal data. Oh, wait – they probably will require at least a name and phone number, unless the book is held in store. But customers can theoretically use a false name, enter the shop disguised as a gorilla, and pay in cash – while cash still exists.

Sigh. Yes, basically, it's all risky.

But the GDPR is designed to protect us. Or at least make organisations state precisely what personal information they collect from us, why they collect it, and what they use it for, before we sign up. It could be worse.

Privacy Policy & Consent

This poem will not collect your data
to contact you a few weeks later
and call you back.

The lyric stands alone, defiant,
entirely GPDR compliant,
in white and black.

Impervious, then, to consternation
or European legislation
or Union Jack,

it here extends its own address,
which may be shared in times of stress—
no fear of flak.



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