Lit Bits

Lots of novel ideas out there ...

Last week's Independent on Sunday had a special issue examining whether intelligent literature can survive in the digital age. (See here.)
John Walsh's article, Spine-chilling, talks about changes in the way people read and quotes Nicholas Carr:
'Once I was a scuba diver in the sea of words. Now I zip along the surface like a guy on a Jet Ski.'
There's a section where 8 'experts' predict the future (which didn't scare me as much as I thought it might).
And an interview with James Patterson - who outsells, J K Rowling, John Grisham and Dan Brown PUT TOGETHER!
(I always assumed his ghost writers did all the work until I heard his schedule - he begins working at 5.30am , 7 days a week. His empire may rake in $1.5billion - but if that's what it takes, he can keep it!)

And here's a new initiative - Bibliotherapy, therapeutic literary solutions to the stresses and strains of everyday modern life available at the School of Life.

Several of the Bookarazzi bods have new books being launched this month.
Check out Tania Hershman at Titania Writes, Liane Spicer at Wordtryst and Caroline Smailes at ... er ... Caroline Smailes.

The Writer's Handbook Live event is taking place in London, Saturday 27 September.

And don't forget to pop along to Rich4Thought to see how Prometheus is getting on.

Enjoy!

Murder, She Wrote

I need your advice.

I'd be grateful for suggestions for a suitable response to the 17 year old (boy? youth? soon-to-be twitching corpse?) who emailed the following to me:

Q: How many women with MENOPAUSE does it take to change a light bulb?

A: One! ONLY ONE!!!! And do you know WHY? Because no one else in this house knows HOW to change a light bulb! They don't even know that the bulb is BURNED OUT!! They would sit in the dark for THREE DAYS before they figured it out. And, once they figured it out, they wouldn't be able to find the fucking light bulbs despite the fact that they've been in the SAME FUCKING CUPBOARD for the past 17 YEARS! But if they did, by some miracle, actually find them 2 DAYS LATER, the chair they dragged to stand on to change the STUPID light bulb would STILL BE IN THE SAME SPOT!!!!! AND UNDERNEATH IT WOULD BE THE WRAPPER THE STUPID LIGHT BULBS CAME IN!!! BECAUSE NO ONE EVER CARRIES OUT THE GARBAGE!!!! IT'S A WONDER WE HAVEN'T ALL SUFFOCATED FROM THE PILES OF GARBAGE THAT ARE A FOOT DEEP THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE HOUSE!! IT WOULD TAKE AN ARMY TO CLEAN THIS DAMNED HOUSE!

I'm sorry.... What was the question?

Another (de)fine mess ...

I was going to write a post about Authonomy, the new website from Harper Collins, where unpublished authors can post their WIP and get feedback (and more) while the publisher gets the benefit of having the online community sift through its slushpile to reveal any hidden gems.

But then I got distracted by the name 'Authonomy'.
's good, innit?
So I've come up with some new definitions of my own.
Please feel free to come up with any further suggestions.

Authorgraphic: a book containing both words and illustrations
Authogonal: as above but all the illustrations consist of only right angles
Authordocks: books that don't rock the boat
Authorities: literary experts
Authorisation: permission to write
Authormatic: when the words just flow
Authoritarians: bossy authors
Authornology: books about birds
Authorpaedic: includes books like The Lovely Bones, The Bone Garden and The Bone Collector
Authopteran: insects who write
Authordontists: writers of books you can get your teeth into
Authoptics: the study of writing books that have to be seen to be believed

Greek geeks and blogging demi-gods

That Prometheus, eh? What is he like ...?

He only goes and nicks some fire and gives it to humans, thereby ensuring our very existence.
And what thanks does he get, eh?
Well, how would you like to have your liver pecked out by birds on a daily basis?

I know what you're thinking ...
You're thinking, 'What is she on about? Again ...'

So I'll tell you.
Rich is a long-standing member of my writers' group.
He's a talented writer, has bags of style, counts art and music among his many talents and is a loyal friend.

He also happens to have haemophilia.
Oh - and Hepatitis C from contaminated blood.
He's about to embark on a course of Interferon in order to attempt to halt the damage to his liver.

Now, while most people would be wallowing in self pity at this stage, that's a road Rich has always refused to travel.
Instead, he's come up with a way to use the experience in a constructive way.

This is what he says:

I decided to utilise the experience for a novel. After much thought, the myth of Prometheus on the rock came to me.
The Hepatitis C virus attacks the liver causing scarring (cirrhosis) eventually leading to cancer. It has all the effects of being an alcoholic without any of the fun. The image of Prometheus having his liver pecked at every day seemed resonant with possibilities.

He's also started a blog, Rich4Thought, to record the progress with both the medical treatment and his literary response to it.

Please pop over and take a look and join me in welcoming this valuable new member of the blogosphere.

Edit me

A critique of my life (a work in progress)

Overall, this life has far too many confusing multiple plot lines and the theme is often unclear.
Many of the characters are too bizarre to be convincing.
The author is relying too heavily on apparent coincidences which stretch credibility.

Structurally, this life is sound, moving as it does in a straightforward linear chronological fashion, which is ideal for a life.

Stylistically, however, there is much work to be done if this life is to fulfill its potential.
The author frequently exceeds the bounds of good taste and risks losing sympathy.
Her reply, 'I couldn't give a shit,' is evidence of her apparent inability to give a shit.

Yesterday ...

3.30pm
Ring ... ring ...
Me: Hiya
G: Where are you?
Me: Went to see A. On bus crossing Battersea Bridge.
G: You know I asked you to fix the lock on the front door this morning ...
Me: I did! I screwed it back in ...
G: Well I can't get in. The key's just turning ...
Me: Oh. Bollocks. You'll have to force the door ...

4.00pm
Ring ... ring ...
G: What?
Me: Are you in yet?
G: No! Stop driving me mad!
Me: OK. Sorry. Call me when you're in.

5.00pm
Arrive home. No sign of G. A wheelbrace and a heavy-duty spanner are lying outside our battered but defiantly closed door. There's a small pile of sawdust on the floor.
Ring ... ring ...
Me: Where are you?
G: Gone to pick up First Born
Me: His thing starts at 5.00. He won't be out for ages yet ...
G: Oh. OK. On my way home now

5.20pm
Bash ... bang ... crash ...
Door remains stubbornly closed.
Me: If you give me a boost, I think I can get through that open window and onto the top bunk.
Hoist ... lift ... puff ...
Visions of fire brigade coming to extricate my wedged body from window.
Me: Um. Maybe not ...

Bang ... crash ... bash ...
Ring ... ring ...
Me: Oh no, our phone's ringing inside!
G: It's probably FB calling to pick him up
Me: I'll phone the school

Ring ... ring ...
School: The office is now closed until morning ...

Crash ... bash ... bang ...
Neighbour arrives and lets us into his flat to use phone.
G goes to pick up FB (again).
Call emergency repairs.
Ring ... ring ...
Recorded message instructs caller to hang on.
I do.
For 15 mins.

5.50pm
Me: I'm locked out
Them: Oh dear. We'll alert the contractors
Me: Any idea how long they'll be?
Them: Should be there within 2 hrs. Hopefully less. Can you wait outside the block?

6.30pm
Me: Hi! Are you the heroes who are going to get me into my flat?
Contractor 1: Blimey. Look at the state of this door!
Me: Um. Yes. My husband spent a couple of hours trying to force it ...
Contractor 1 exchanges meaningful glances with Contractor 2.
Me: Still - looking on the bright side - it's good to know it's so hard to break in ...
Weak laugh.
Contractors 1 & 2 snarl and grind teeth.

6.50pm
Ring ... ring ...
Me: Hi. I'm in. It took them ages. They had to use every tool in their van. They're fixing the new lock now. Have you got FB yet?
G: No! The school's locked up and there's no one here ...
Me: He's not at his school. He's gone to a local primary school to do some PR
G: He's got swimming club this evening! I'll go to the other school to get him

7.00pm
Contractors still fitting lock and fixing damaged door.
I'm peeling potatoes.
Peeler comes apart in my hands.
Ring ... ring ...
Me: Hi
Meloney: It's Meloney
Me: I know
Mel: How? How do you know?
Me: Cos it comes up on the display thingy ...?
Mel: Wow. That's technology for you
Me: Mmmm. Indeed. So how can I help?
Mel: I was wondering if FB and LG were going swimming tonight
Me: Well, LG isn't cos he's in the Isle of Wight with your Skate Boy and Girly Twin
Mel: Oh yes. That's right ...
Me: And I can't be sure about FB cos he's not home yet. And we've been locked out. There's 2 guys fixing the lock as I speak. And my potato peeler's broken
Mel: Ah. Well. You know what that's about, don't you ...
Me: No. What is it all about?
Mel: It's that particle accelerator, isn't it? Making things happen. It's why you've had all those weird coincidences recently ...
Me: Right. The particle accelerator. So - about the swimming ...
Mel: Oh yes. So - if FB is going, can you bring Super Teen home with you afterwards?
Me: I'll let you know

7.20pm
Ring ... ring ...
Me: The contractors've just gone. Have you got FB yet?
G: No! I went to the other school and it's in darkness!
Me: Where did you go?
G: L school
Me: No! That's not right! It's K school ...
G: I don't know where that is ...
Me: Hang up. I'll look it up and call you back

Flick ... flick ... (Yellow Pages)
Flick ... flick ... (A-Z)

7.25pm
Ring ... ring ...
Me: Right. I've found it. Where are you now?
G: I'm on AP
Me: Let me see ... flick ... flick ... Ah yes. OK. You go to the end of the road, cross over the roundabout ...
G: Oh! Here he is now!

7.35pm
G and FB stagger in through resurrected door complete with lumpy filler embellishments.
Phone Mel.
Bolt food.
Dash out to swimming club.

So, tell me.
Are other people's lives like this?

The slippers needed to be fur-lined

The first ever Pipe & Slippers open air festival was really cool.
OK. That's not strictly accurate ...
It was bloody f-f-freezing.

Which was a shame, cos the line-up was awesome:
Katrina Naomi (fab poet)
Paul Ewer (novelist - sorry - couldn't find link)
Alice Gun (lovely harmonies and weird and wonderful instruments)
Wes White (described accurately as 'uncategorisable' - but v funny)
Maki and Kola (free form jazz dancers that need to be seen to be believed)
Paddy Steel (P&S organiser reading from work in progress)
Jacqueline Walker (reading from Pilgrim State)
Stuart Silver & the Ukelele Orchestra (I expected a wall of sound from massed ranks of teensy string instruments - I saw instead one man with a surreal sense of humour that cracked me up)
Citizen Helene (sweet sounds)

It was an honour to be part of this line-up.
But I couldn't help wishing we had a roaring log fire or three ...

Meanwhile - I have to tell you that I can't be sure that I exist at this point in time.
G's back at work.
FB's back at school.
LG's in the Isle of Wight for 5 days.
And Blogger's playing up and it's been a bugger getting these links to work ...

So reminder me please ... who am I again?

Zen and the Art of Flatpack Assembly

1) Attain trance-like state by dint of extended deep-inhalation smoking on balcony.

2) Open packaging and lay out components, identifying them on instruction sheet.

3) Ensure all necessary tools are within reach. These will include screwdrivers in various sizes and a large container of prescription tranquillisers. (Valium is recommended but brandy can be substituted at a pinch.)

4) Close eyes, take several deep breaths, arrange features into beatific smile.

5) Begin working through instruction sheet one step at a time.
NB: This is vital. On no account should you permit your eye to wander ahead to the next stages. Live firmly in the present.

6) Resist desire to hammer in recalcitrant screws at rakish angles.

7) Ditto re reluctant edges.

8) Do not be afraid to repeat stage 1) as and when necessary.

9) Shriek at First Born, who doesn't understand zen approach and keeps saying he can see exactly what needs doing cos he's kinetic innit.

10) Warn both children that if they continue to interfere, you'll bugger off and they can put the bloody thing together themselves if they're so damn clever.

11) Bugger off and let them put the bloody thing together themselves since they're so damn clever.

12) Retreat to kitchen to cook tea.

13) Ignore howls of protest and insults hurled at your retreating back. You are a Zen master. These base emotions cannot touch you.

14) Resist urge to peep round doorway to see how they're doing.

15) Give in to urge.

16) Suppress disappointment at their progress.

17) Smile smugly when you hear a vital piece has been missed.

18) Wonder briefly if smug smiles are compatible with the zen approach.

19) Balance envy, admiration, disappointment and pride when viewing finished item.

20) Return to 1)

Poverty sucks!

I reckon that's one thing we can all agree on.

So it shouldn't be hard to get people to take part in this year's Blog Action Day on 15th October.

Last year, the focus was on the environment.

Yes, I know we haven't managed to call a halt to global warming or to force governments and industries to make serious changes.

But trickle by trickle, there has been a shift in opinion -
- and with 20,603 blogs participating last year with 23,327 posts reaching an approximate readership of 14,631,038 -
- who can say blogging wasn't a significant part of that shift and didn't make a difference?

So - this year the focus is on poverty.
Check the site here.
Watch the video.
Click the links.
Register your blog.
Get involved.

So far, 3,591 blogs are registered, with a readership of 7,243,768.
Can we make a difference?
If there's even the slightest possibility that you could improve life for a single person, can you justify NOT taking part?

To start the ball rolling here's a single anecdote.

When I lived in Grenada, there were days when there was barely enough food for a single meal.
I always shared what I had with the neighbourhood kids - I could never forget that I was living in that way through choice.
I could always wave my passport and leave if things got too bad.

One day, I had nothing.
No food for me and nothing to share.
It was the children who told me the strategy.
'Drink lots of water,' they told me. 'It will fill your belly and the hunger won't be so bad.'

Our world is rich.
There's more than enough to go round.
Only there are many who have a surfeit and many more who have nothing.
No child should have to know a strategy for dealing with hunger.

Click here to see how Blog Action Day (and you) could make a difference.

What's in the Pipe ...

Further details re the Pipe & Slippers festival on Sunday are now up on the site.

What a line up!
Hang on ... who's that down there referred to as a local hero ...?

Blimey - 'tis I ...

All we need now is some sunshine.

Hope to see you there. xxx

Pipestock meets Slipperfest

Details to follow, but in the meantime here's a poster.

And check out the website.

Cor luv-a-duck

I've just adopted a duck!
I know, I know - you'd think I have enough bills to deal with. (Groan.)

Anyway, this is the very best of causes.
I've mentioned before that I have a friend who runs a charity called ALD Life.
Her younger son has recently had a bone marrow transplant to prevent the progression of the disease.
(You can read about his older brother here.)

Yet she still finds time and energy to fundraise for the charity.
Her latest initiative has been to join in the Great British Duck Race.
On 31st August, up to 250,000 rubber ducks will float down the Thames to set a new world record and raise £££ for charities.

If you'd like to adopt a duck and help raise money for ALD Life, you can do so here.

How bad can you get?

On the subject of 'so bad, it's great', have you seen the results of the 26th Bulwer-Lytton contest for ghastly first liners?

You think it's easy to be this bad?

Done and Dusty

So that's the Oh-Limp-Ix over with for another 4 years then.

Inevitably, living in a family of sports nuts, I caught occasional glimpses of the action during the last fortnight.
Enough to see that it's as much about personal endeavour (triumph over adversity, ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances, yada yada ...) as it is about sporting prowess and national pride.

And I saw a little of the closing ceremony, which was as spectacular as you might expect for an event costing several squillion quid.

I heard the commentators gushing about the 'passionate words' being sung.
So I listened:

Beijing, Beijing,
We like Beijing.
Beijing, Beijing,
We like Beijing.

Passionate? Now I don't know about you, but I prefer a bit more ... er ... passion in my passion.
Anyway, I've come up with a suggestion for a second verse:

Beijing, Beijing,
It is quite nice.
Beijing, Beijing,
Let's say it twice.

So what's next for 2012?
Howzabout this?

London, London,
Jump on the bus.
London, London,
We'll make a fuss.

Whaddya reckon? Are you inspired? Uplifted?
Is it passionate enough for you?

Feel free to add your own submissions in the comments box.

PS: It wasn't all sunshine and laughter.

Normal service has been resumed

Summer 2008, eh?
It's been wet.
Very wet.

During our time in Cornwall, we squeezed in a single day shivering on the beach.

But ...
... there were trips to Lands End, the Lizard, Penzance, Falmouth, the aptly-named Eden Project (where I've always wanted to go and it certainly fulfilled expectations).


Then there was a damp forest picnic ...


and a walk to the cliffs ...


... And pasties to be consumed ...


... And a hefty dollop of Cornish culture in the shape of a night spent grooving at a Four Tons of Funk gig.
(This latter was so far removed from my cultural frames of reference it's hard to describe.
Suffice to say we were conspicuous for being among the very few people NOT wearing dayglo Afro wigs, psychedelic stretch nylon mini skirts or flares and massive heels exceeded only by the length of diamante-encrusted false eyelashes.)

Oh, and I had an evening jamming with Minx's samba band while da boyz watched the Oh-Limp-Ix.

But best of all were the late, late, very late nights spent with the Magical Minx, putting the world to rights.
(Unfortunately, the world seems determined to ignore our efforts, but we're not giving up.)

So it's been wet, yes.
But definitely not a wash-out.

And there's still another couple of weeks of holiday left.
The forecast is ... wet.

But we have plans.

All our bags are packed ...

... and we're ready to go.

First Born now has what I'd describe as a bubble cut. All bouncy curls ...
And Little Guy has morphed into Peter Petrelli.

Somehow he persuaded me to dye his hair black as well as cut it.
He said he wants to be an Emo.


I told him he should forge his own style.
He said he has, cos he doesn't self-harm.
And anyway, he's really a Goth Hippy Rock Skater.

Sigh ... the dye is my attempt at compromise ...

And I can also guilt trip him by showing the stains on my nails and jeans (while hoping he doesn't suss it's my fault for not taking them off).

Meddling with the medals

So the Olympics are here.
Sigh ...

How did I find myself in this sports-mad family when I even lost the losers' race in my primary school?

And when I talk about the politics ...
... 3 pairs of ears simultaneously close ...
... 3 pairs of hands simultaneously cover said ears ...
... and 3 mouths simultaneously yell, 'Killjoy!'
... swiftly followed by 'What's for supper? It's hard work lying on this settee watching other people sweat.'

I know I'm not the only one to care about the issues.

And here's the proof ...

Dear friends, As the Beijing Olympics begin, the world looks on with mixed emotions. It's a moment which should bring us closer together, and Chinese citizens deserve their excitement -- but the Chinese government still hasn't opened meaningful dialogue with the Dalai Lama, or changed its stance on Burma, Darfur and other pressing issues. The Dalai Lama's Olympic handshake is circling the world, headed for Beijing. Click below to see more and join the call for dialogue! CLICK HERE TO SHAKE HANDS Even worse, extremists in China are promoting the view that Olympic activism like ours is anti-Chinese. We can't stay silent, but we also can't let our efforts be abused to divide people. So what can we do? The answer comes from the Dalai Lama himself, in an unambiguous gesture of Olympic spirit and friendship: a handshake. It began in London, passed hand to hand by thousands of us -- now the handshake has gone online, and is criss-crossing the globe on its way to Beijing. All of us can join, Chinese and non-Chinese, and it comes with a promise: to hold ALL our governments accountable where they fall short, in Tibet, Iraq, Burma or beyond. We'll deliver our message in a bold media campaign in Hong Kong and around the world: Click below to see how the Olympic handshake started, sign up to join in, and watch it circle the globe -- http://www.avaaz.org/en/handshake The worldwide outcry has produced a little progress, but much resistance from Chinese officials so far. If we are to see advances not setbacks after the Games, we need to show both that our voices will never fall silent, and that our challenge is a positive one. We have one last chance to reclaim the spirit of the Olympics, with the message of friendship and dialogue we share with the Dalai Lama. The more people join the global handshake, the more powerful our message will be when it hits the Chinese and international media. "One World, One Dream" is an ideal that's bigger than the Olympics -- it's time for citizens around the world to take it back.

In short - people talking

Thought some of you might be interested in this:

We are looking for new short stories written by unknown authors which we hope to produce into free audio books narrated by professional British actors.

Peopletalk is a non-profit group, comprising British trained actors, writers, producers and documentary makers who have combined their expertise in order to provide a free internet audio book, anecdotal story and social history documentaries site.

What are you waiting for?
Remember - you heard about it here, so when it comes to the celebration party, save me a slice of gateau.

Now you see me, now you ...

Back for a brief breather.

Brighton was great.
A bit too much wandering round shops for my liking, but I try to go with the flow ...

Speaking of flowing, my fave day was spent at Cuckmere Meanders - and not just cos it sounds like a Yiddish curse.
(Kish mir in tuchus, anyone? No? Well, kiss my arse anyway.)

Back now with just enough time to type up a report, pay some bills, check emails, visit dad, cut both boys' hair (!!!) and repack before heading off for some quality love & light, Cornish style-ee.

Put the kettle on, Minx.

A brief break

We're off tomorrow here to spend some time with Gorgeous Goddaughter.

See you soon.

If you want to party in my comments box while I'm away, you're welcome.
But PLEASE tidy up afterwards.
It took me ages to scrape the chocolate off last time ...