More Of St Paddy's Dublin Festivities
As promised, here's a closer look at the wonderful St Patrick's day parade I saw in Dublin last weekend. This is a mix of video clips and photos, taken from the window of my hotel room in Parnell Square.
Paddy, Yeats, Barbara & Chocolate!
Wow, my first ever St Patrick's Day in Ireland! Dublin, to be exact. The sky stopped crying just at the right time, long enough for the traditional parade to take place without the risk of everything getting smudged. I had a wonderful view of the floats and performers, thanks to the fact that they passed just beneath the window of my hotel room in Parnell Square. Here's a taste of some of the sights, while I work on a little video presentation for later:
But St Patrick's Day was special for another reason: I was invited to have dinner with the poet and blogger Barbara Smith. My very first blogmeetle, which came with a delicious vegetarian meal (I am such a pain when it comes to my meatlessness)! It was a real delight to meet Barbara and some of her family. She was exactly how I imagined she would be: warm, funny and generous in spirit. What a treat it all was, and Barbara and her husband even showed me around some of their beautiful countryside. March 17, 2008, will stay in my memory for a very long time.
I got a fair amount of writing done while I was in Dublin: the skeleton for a short story, a poem and about five pages towards my novel. My new fountain pen was such a pleasure to use, as I soaked up all the energy and charm that my father's city has to offer. I read quite a bit as well.
There was also a great exhibition on the life of W.B.Yeats at the National Library, with fascinating copies of his drafts and notes on numerous poems. I always find it interesting to see how great poets edit their own work, to see the before and after. It was also a treat to hear Seamus Heaney and Sinead O'Connor read out some of Yeats' poems.
Just down the road, at Trinity College, I finally got a chance to see the Book of Kells. Whenever I'd gone to see these old treasures in the past I'd always been put off by the long queues; this time, though, on a Tuesday, there was virtually no one around. What a strange silence and feeling of deep awe to at last see these books up close!
There was some good news and bad news on my return to Lyon. The computer has been fixed and no personal data has been lost. Whew! I thought I'd lost about 15 unsaved pages of my novel. But no, they're all there. Apparently the power hub overheated.
I've also discovered there's a new little chocolate shop just opened in the street beneath our building. Mmmmmm. Handmade. Delicious-looking. I will probably give in to the daily, excruciating temptations. I mean, I've got to support local business, right?
The bad news is that we have no internet or television connection. We don't know why and they say they're on to it. It's been two days. I'm writing this post in an internet café and I won't even begin to tell you how difficult it's been to post this with the photos. So, in the meantime, sorry if I am tardy in my blog visits and my answering of emails and messages.
Two Years of Shamelessness!
I was so wrapped up in my computer hassles that I forgot to mark the second anniversary of this blog. (The computer is fixed now, by the way, but I'm in Dublin at the moment and so won't have her hooked up at home until I get back next week. I'm still not sure how much data I've lost, but my fingers, toes and eyes are all crossed!)
Anyway, blogiversary! Yayyyyyyy! Yippppppeee! The anniversary is hard to pin down to an exact date because this blog got off to a "toes-in-first" start. It really took off in the first week of March, 2006, when I decided that I would invest the time and try to keep it going. If you're here reading this today, then it hasn't been a wasted effort. Like they say: without you, the reader, this blog really would be nothing. Thank you so much for stopping by. I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I've also loved reading all the other blogs I've discovered over the past two years and I look forward to a whole lot more of the same. Really, you are all wonderful sparks that fire a larger engine.
Now, why would I have a photo of a pen and writing books to accompany a post about my blog anniversary? Let me explain.
It's funny, but my blogging habits have evolved over the past two years. I started out posting daily, or at least every other day, but quickly realised I couldn't keep that up (there's this awful thing called "daily life" that gets in the way) and readers miss posts if they don't have the time to digest them. I now try to do about two posts a week related to my love of writing and reading, which seems to be just about manageable.
However, I also really want to have more time to do the creative writing that I talk so much about, some of which I feature here from time to time. I've had to really think about ways to guarantee that I have time for writing fiction and poetry in this age of distraction ... and that's where the pen and books come in. I decided to go out and buy a lovely fountain pen, so I can do a lot more writing away from the computer. I need to ensure that I'm not constantly tempted by all the amazing sites that dance and sing behind my computer screen. As well as a forest of superb blogs, there are deep valleys of unique information and entertainment.
A fountain pen? It couldn't just be any pen. I had to buy something that would be a pleasure to use, where the letters would almost appear by magic on the page, effortlessly, with strong, sure strokes. I've never been a fountain pen user, but my partner recently bought one and I was sold after a few tries. Now I have the tools, I just have to get on with it. I have to make sure that I switch off the computer and go and write in different places: lying on the couch, in cafes, in parks, places where inspiration is dripping. The new regime has begun here in Dublin!
Speaking of writing, the latest instalment in Grace's story over at The Shameless Lions Writing Circle is up. Bonnie has done a brilliant job at preparing the stage for the final scene. The story is about to be wrapped up after an exciting, epic journey. Do go and check it out if you haven't already done so. It's amazing how something like this was possible, with so many different writers and styles blending together. I've seen these kinds of projects fall apart after just a few contributions, and I was thrilled to see this one go from strength to strength. The next project at the circle is in the pipeline.
Someone also asked me in a mail about the Shameless Graffito series, and when the next one will go up. Wow, I'm thrilled it's eagerly awaited. There's been a slight break because of the fire inside the computer, and I'm really hoping the photos that were waiting in the wings haven't gone up in smoke. I will aim to have the next one up late next week, when I'm back from Dublin.
The Woman Who's Branching Out !
This plant, given to us a few years back by some Swiss friends, has really grown into a bit of a talking point. It sits on the coffee table in the lounge, so people can't help but notice the woman who's forever reaching towards the light. In case you're wondering - or sniggering - we definitely did nothing to make the plant grow like this! She will soon have to have an appropriate name, so any ideas would be very welcome. At the moment she's known here as "The Woman Who's Branching Out". She will probably also have to have a poem at some point. I'm going to work on it.
Forums, Angels, India And Candle Wax
Yes! I no longer have to resort to hopping across to the UK to get my fix of English-speaking literary events! I'm very pleased to see that Lyon's International Forum On The Novel is taking place again this year, from May 26 to June 1. The theme is: "The novel - what an invention!" Last year's forum was the inaugural event and it attracted some big names. Here are some of the anglophone authors showing up this year:
Annie Proulx, Joseph O’Connor (Ireland), Nelly Arcan (Canada), Karen Connelly (Canada), Dennis Cooper (USA), Kirsty Gunn (New Zealand), Jonathan Lethem (USA), Daniel Mendelsohn (USA), David Peace (UK), Suhayl Saadi (UK), Adam Thirlwell (UK) and Alissa York (Canada). There are in fact some 80 writers attending.
However, I really hope the format this time round allows for a bit more discussion and improvisation on the part of the authors. There was a tendency for things to get a bit dry last year: the writers read out prepared pieces on the given theme (sometimes very academic and inaccessible) and then there was only time for the odd question from a panel of two or three "experts". I prefer more time for raw questions and answers, and more of a chance for the audience to interact with the authors. This is France, though, and they do seem to like these events to be very orderly and controlled. We'll see.
Oh, and there's some wonderful news about an amazing book I've just finished reading. The Vintner's Luck, a novel about a 19th century French winegrower who has an affair with an angel, is being made into a film. This was a superb book, with writing that made me shiver, and it'll be brilliant to see it portrayed on the big screen. The author is the New Zealander Elizabeth Knox, who received widespread acclaim for this book. I found it to be a little pearl of a novel, which is very hard to fit into any category or genre. It takes a little bit of time to get into the story, but once you surrender to the strange universe and poetic prose, the experience is unique and memorable.
The cast for the film looks interesting: the Belgian actor Jeremie Renier and the French actor Gaspard Ulliel will play the winegrower and the angel, while the New Zealand Oscar-nominee Keisha Castle-Hughes (star of the film Whale Rider) will play the winegrower's wife. American actress Vera Farmiga will play another important role. Filming has already started in a vineyard in Auckland, New Zealand, and it's reported there will also be scenes shot in France and Belgium. I can't wait to see what the director, Nicky Caro, does with this.
A few things have kept me away from writing and reading recently, and I am so eager to get back to normal!
First of all, my computer blew up! I smelt something burning when I was downloading some video footage and I didn't figure out what was going on until it was too late. Bang! I'm praying that no important data has been lost; my last big "saving spree" was a few weeks back. This is a timely reminder to those of you who have not saved copies of your precious words or photos. Do it now! Computers, no matter how new, can go on the blink at any moment! We bought ours in 2006! (I'm writing this on the "courtesy" laptop they make available while repairs are carried out. Thank goodness we paid extra to extend the warranty!)
The other anti-writing/reading event was the flu. It hit me between the eyes and forced me to take a week off work. The last time I remember being confined to bed was about 10 years ago. A dry, annoying cough is still hanging around, but I'm trying to make it feel unwelcome. I'm now enjoying a great blend of plants and essential oils after an overdose of horrible chemicals!
The good news, though, is that my visa has come through for our two-week trip to India in April (I won't even begin to tell you about the administrative nightmare this entailed!). What should I read to get in the mood? What literary sights/activities should I seek out in New Delhi and Nagpur? Do share your thoughts if you've been there.
The other good news, in terms of trying to nail down more time for creative writing, is that I've finally managed to reduce the hours at work by about 10 percent, which will give me two weeks off every two months. Yes! It was crazy not to do this earlier. I will earn 10 percent less, but I will be happier. I will also have fewer nasty nightshifts to do! Now there's no excuse for not making lots of writing progress in 2008!
Oh, by the way, if you ever spill oodles of candle wax over a shiny black piano (how stupid could I be? I will blame the flu) then just remember that a credit card is your answer. No, I used it to scrape, silly ... not to buy another piano! I was beside myself, thinking I'd burnt and scarred my lovely, until good old Google gave me the reassuring advice I needed. All is well. She is still managing to reach the tricky high notes and look dazzling at the same time!
Don't Take This The Wrong Way, But ...
We writers just want to be loved, don't we? We just want people to read our stuff and go WOW! Give that writer a book contract! Sadly, it can never be like that. Receiving criticism is something we will always have to deal with. Even the masters get criticised - no matter how high up the tree they are - and there's never an easy way to deal with it. I try to remind myself that criticism is healthy and good, and it can be turned around to our advantage. It doesn't have to be the big bad monster under the bed. Anyway, what's worse: getting criticised, or not getting noticed?
A little while ago I received a long email from someone who reads this blog. I was surprised to see that it was a long, detailed critique of a short story I'd written. Now, I could've reacted badly. I know some people who would've reacted badly in my shoes. I could've cried over the fact that my work had been laid out under a harsh light and dissected. I could've questioned the motives of this man, who'd never before been in touch with me. I didn't though. I saw this as a huge act of generosity and kindness. Someone who teaches English and writing (from what I gather) had sat down and actually analysed the words I put together. He had actually taken the time - and we all know how precious our time is nowadays - to offer suggestions on how the story could be improved. All this for me, without even being paid! (I hope he's not waiting for a cheque!)
I think what made this email easier to embrace was the fact that this man, whose own writing I like, made it clear where he was coming from right up front. He said he liked my story but thought there were ways to improve it. Every point he rose was backed up with a reason, and I think that's what good criticism is. Criticism that comes with a clear reason is like receiving a pot of gold. It was great to be able to go back through my story and decide whether or not I agreed with his points. As it turned out, I did agree with many of the things he brought up because the reasons were so compelling, but others I chose not to take up. I also had my own reasons for doing certain things. When I emailed to say thank you for the critique, and that I'd been very happy to receive it, the man replied by saying he was glad I hadn't taken his initiative the wrong way. (The story I'm referring to, by the way, is Little Pixie, which has recently been reprinted by Jessica Schneider on the Monsters and Critics site, in the original fiction section).
It's easier said than done, but I don't think writers have anything to be worried about when someone reacts to a piece of work with criticism - as long as it's constructive and the motive is improvement. The process forces us to ask why we have done certain things. Often the criticism will simply highlight something we ourselves had already put a question mark over. Sometimes it will show up a need to be clearer. Also, it's good to remember that the criticism is not about us, it's simply about something we produced - just one of the many things we might go on to produce. There's no need to take this criticism personally. I know, it's easier said than done!
I believe external criticism also boosts our own ability for internal criticism. We take more care about what we're writing, why we're writing it and how we're writing it. We become more confident about our own reasons and motivations. If someone questions something later, we might be able to tell them exactly why it was done like that. We can thank them for their criticism but be confident in our reasons for not taking up their advice. (It's also important to think about where the criticism is coming from: if the person criticising your poem admits that they actually hate reading poetry and books, you might want to get a few opinions before pushing the delete key).
I remember in journalism school being shouted at by a tutor over a story and photograph I wanted to submit to a newspaper. She told me the photo was wrong because the "subject" wasn't in the centre of the photo. I told her the empty space in the middle had been deliberate to show the void between a dying patient and a hospital worker struggling to get around to all of those in need of attention. My tutor talked me into submitting the story without the photo, but we included a note to say that the paper's own photographer might like to go to the hospital to get a shot. The feature was accepted and I was pleased to see it printed the following week with a photo similar to what I'd proposed: there was a mighty gap in the middle between the patient and the hospital worker. I have learnt that when we do something with a good reason in mind, we are able to confidently deal with any criticism.
Of course, there are times when we get ourselves into a pickle. We can no longer tell if we agree with the criticism or not. We lose a grip on why we did something in the first place. We feel unable to decide whether someone's criticism is valid or not. We go ahead and change things just because someone said so, without deciding whether we agree or not. We spend hours agonising over whether something is good or bad. In these situations, I think it's better to stand back. Put the criticism aside. Go back to it when everything's not swimming around. It's important to sort out in our own mind what we were trying to do, what we were trying to get across. Later, when we look at the criticism again, hopefully we'll be able to see things more clearly. Getting several opinions is also good; not from loved ones, who might just want to tell us what we want to hear, but people who are not afraid to be honest, whose work we like, whose opinions we respect.
I really would like to think that if someone felt uncomfortable about leaving a critical comment at the end of my short stories or poems, then hopefully they would consider sending me an email. I would welcome it. If the reasons make sense and I agree with them, I would be happy to edit the work. We can always improve. We can always be helped along by others. Let's just say here and now that all poetry and fiction on this blog are works in progress!
A Warning About Blog Comments
This is a very funny story (albeit embarrassing) that involves the New Zealander Katherine Mansfield, who is considered by many to be one of the greatest short story writers of the 20th century. This is also a warning about the comments we leave on the web, and the growing problem of how comments that are meant to be humorous/ironic can be misinterpreted and taken too seriously. I certainly never expected that one of my recent comments on a blog would result in a false report in The Sunday Times, a national newspaper in Britain. Cripes! Let me explain.
A few months ago I entered a short story contest run by the Willesden Herald blog, which had the author Zadie Smith as the judge. There was a bit of controversy at the beginning of this month when Smith announced that the £5,000 prize wouldn't be awarded because none of the 800 entries was considered to be good enough - or to use Smith's words: "We could not find the greatness we'd hoped for". Many people left comments at the Willesden Herald blog to criticise/support this decision, but also to take issue with some of the things Smith said in her announcement. These are some of the bits that came in for scrutiny:
"I think there are few prizes of this size that would have the integrity not to award a prize when there is not sufficient cause to do so. Most literary prizes are only nominally about literature, they are really about brand consolidation – for beer companies, phone companies, coffee companies even frozen food companies."
"For I have thought, reading through these entries, that maybe the problem with this prize is that my name is attached to it. To be very clear: just because this prize has the words Willesden and Zadie hovering by it, does not mean that I or the other judges want to read hundreds of jolly stories of multicultural life on the streets of North London. Nor are we exclusively interested in cutesy American comedies, or self-referential post-modern vignettes, or college satires. To be even clearer: if these things turn up and are brilliantly written, they will not be ignored. But we also welcome all those whose literary sympathies lie with Rimbaud or Capote, with Irving Rosenthal or Proust, with Svevo or Trocchi, with Ballard or Bellow, Denis Cooper or Diderot, with Coetzee or Patricia Highsmith, with street punks or Elizabethans, with Southern Gothic or with Nordic Crime, with Brutalists or Realists, with the Lyrical or the Encyclopedic, in the ivory tower, or amongst the trash that catches in the gutter. We welcome everybody. We have only one principle here: MAKE IT GOOD. So, let’s try again, yes?"
Some British newspapers ran with the fact that Smith seemed to be criticising the very literary contests that had made her rich and famous. As well as the debate about the decision not to award the prize, some people (including me) voiced concern about how the contest had been run. I held the view that a shortlist had been agreed upon, with the various shortlisted people contacted, and that didn't necessarily need to be scrapped. This is what I said in my comment:
"This whole affair does seem very odd. I love this writing project and I love the motivation behind it (yay to no beer sponsorship), but I do have some observations to make.
The decision not to award the prize is one thing. I didn't read the stories. Maybe it is true that there was no pearl among them. I entered a story, but I'm ready to accept that not everyone will agree that it's the most fabulous story in the world and deserving of a £5,000 prize. (If you change your mind, Zadie, I'm still willing to accept the cash, OK?)
But seriously, I would suggest that a bit of a rethink is in order at the Willesden Herald on how this short story contest is run. I imagine the good people there are probably already doing this.
What a shame to have all these negative questions now about this "mystery" shortlist. It's just not good PR. It doesn't seem very open and transparent. Why not release this list? Why strip these people of this honour? The shortlist was published last year and it was promised in this year's rules. Does it follow that just because the top prize isn't awarded the shortlist should also be scrapped?
For a contest that wants to be seen as reputable and a promoter of excellence, putting up news on the website that a shortlist exists (albeit unannounced), only to then quickly take that message down seems to have been very unwise.
It is very clear that Zadie Smith didn't think much of the choices made by the readers who sifted through the 800 or so entries. Could the problem then have been with the choice/standard of the readers, and not with the standard of the entries? Is it possible that a pearl slipped through in the early reading? Nothing out of 800? Wow, that's something.
It seems very odd that a shortlist is arrived at - wouldn't we all love to read those entries now? - but the effort of the readers who chose them are dismissed. I hope the Willesden Herald reconsiders this. Maybe the anthology will go ahead?
Also, I wonder if the entry written by no other than Katherine Mansfield was spotted by the readers? Wouldn't that be something, if the celebrated work of a short story master was thrown out with the dishwater? Did it make it to the shortlist?
But, anyway, here's an idea. I reckon the shortlisted writers should get together anyway and publish their own anthology. I would definitely buy a copy."
Yes, you can see that I mentioned Katherine Mansfield. I didn't think too much about that little remark, assuming that people would know that I was just fooling around. Zadie Smith had talked about not finding any "greatness", and I wanted to make the point (with tongue firmly in cheek) that maybe, just maybe, they'd missed something. After all the controversy, the organisers decided to split the prize money with those on the shortlist. Then there was an announcement that no one in fact wanted to be publicly named as being on the shortlist of "mediocre" writers and no one wanted the money. The £5,000 went to charity instead.
The Sunday Times picked up on the row and ran this article, focusing on the fact that Zadie Smith seemed to bag literary awards:
But then imagine my surprise when I spotted this in the middle of the article:
Oh, dear! Yes, it seems my comment was seized upon by the journalist who wrote that article. But wouldn't he have contacted me to find out if I was being serious? Wouldn't he have dug a little further to find out more about this, and not just base his facts on a comment on a blog? My comment wasn't anonymous and there was a link back to my site. Did I really have to put up a flag on the comment and say THIS IS JUST A JOKE? Speaking as a journalist myself, I really think this should've been checked out. He could've run this by the organisers of the Willesden Herald contest. They clearly knew I had just been teasing, and didn't even have to check back with me to confirm that. Take a look at their response to the article on their site:
"It's not true that there was a story by Katherine Mansfield sent in, or rather that would seem to be a kite flown by one of our commenters in a teasing and jocular vein. I don't think Ms Mansfield has a workable email, under the rules, and seances are at best unreliable.
I think I have read all of KM's marvellous stories, seen and heard them performed, for example at last year's Small Wonder short story festival—a marvellous production of stories dramatised from "In A German Pension" with Andrew Sachs, the divine Eleanor Bron etc. I've read "Bliss and Other Stories" so many times that the old paperback copy on my shelf is falling to bits.
Unfortunately it is the case that the the entries from Hemingway, Nabokov, Carver, and Italo Calvino had to be regretfully disqualified on account of the authors being dead (in spite of representations that Raymond Carver's editor had cut the heart out of his work first time round). Most painfully, for me personally, Frank O'Connor too.
For next year, we will try to clarify the rule about the non-eligibilty of posthumous entries. In any case it appears that the entries in some of these cases did not represent their finest work."
I think there is a lesson here for all of us. When leaving a comment on the web about something controversial, I will now try to make it very obvious what is humour and what is not, even if that means I have to hit people over the head with explanation. Hopefully the journalist at The Sunday Times will not take things at face value. Hopefully he will take more time to check his sources and check with the people who stand to be cast in a bad light (the contest organisers). A couple of emails would've easily clarified things.
This story also touches on the whole debate about "blog wars", when people misunderstand the tone of what is being said, when humorous or light-hearted comments are mistaken for something more serious. We've probably all experienced it. We leave what we think is an innocent, fun comment, only to find out that it's been taken the wrong way and upset someone. I try to put smiley faces at the end of my comments now, just to ensure that people don't imagine any hostility or malicious intent.
Anyway, all of this has taken my mind off the fact that my short story didn't get anywhere in the contest. Never mind. Anyway, I would hate to be given the badge of "greatness". What a terrible thing to have to live up to!
A Pause For A Poem
rippling, light
splashes of
hibiscus, our
fingers almost
touching, but
always those
damn circles.
a madman in
charge of
the pedal,
me unable
to stand to
reach you,
so wary of
past collisions.
the moribund
carousel is
speeding up,
heads rolling
back to our
torrid youth,
amid groans
of dizziness.
© Copyright, 2008. Seamus Kearney.
The Magic Of Ireland
I've finally got around to marrying up my photos of Ireland with one of my original piano compositions. I hope you like it. Click twice on the play button!
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