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Monday, March 26, 2012
Edit
The Aotearoa Affair Blog Carnival "PAST MYTHS, PRESENT LEGENDS" is now live. I thoroughly enjoyed my stint guest editing it.
I'm so grateful to all who've contributed to make it a really gorgeous looking edition but I'm especially thankful to Dorothee Lang and Michelle Elvy who have been the most helpful people anyone could ever wish to work with. For their generosity with their time and advice I am sincerely appreciative. Thank you, ladies.
I hope you will all ping over there, pop along, and peruse the blogs on offer.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Ate it for
I've just read two books. Thank you.
As they both touch upon the Miners Strike of 84, which I am personally very familiar with, I thought I'd treat you to a brief digested read for you to compare them. Well, saves me banging on about me sen.
I've rather helpfully titled my comparison Clemency 84.
Judy thought about the tupperware her mother bought them when they first got married, the way it all fitted together in the cupboard; no one could have convinced her then the stains would never wash out, not even with the new Presto brand washing up liquid she bought that weekend. She looked at Clifford, unfolding his pyjamas, rolled on her side: she had wondered if they might have sex tonight. Clifford turned out the light.
There are a lot more of us only we all sound the same, even if we're from London because there's only the North and London. But isn't that the point. Clever. Oh, you're asleep.
I don't sound the same because I represent socialism and therefore I'm a blagger and a sociopath, but don't worry, I'll die and all you'll remember is the colour of the book's cover.
****
Day 1. Martian speaks proper Yorkshire. We want people in London to read this book. Say it's bloody good. So we cut out article to make it sound like dialect. Bloody Hell. And short sentences. Everywhere. And occasional quote. In case you were getting cosy with narrative. Blue smoke goes drifting by. But Martian's real. His part's chopped into newspaper columns. Proof.
Everytime we change POV we have to change font. Because this is a thriller. We have to chop the whole lot up. Tiny segments. Like violence. Stuff happening too quick. At same time. Get the spade out. Fuck, fuck, fuck. A miner gets dragged past by his hair.
Slit is a nasty character. Nasty characters have pseudonyms.
The Driver is a bad man. The Driver has a spade. The Driver gets italics so his segments are short. You can't read much in Italics before you get bored.
Miner gets dragged past by his hair.
Nick Fontanelle is Nick. Nick Fontanelle is also Slit. Nick Fontanelle is on nearly every page but if we called him Nick Fontanelle every time you'd get sick of reading Nick Fontanelle. Nick Fontanelle is tough. Nick Fontanelle has a soft spot. Nick Fontanelle is like dog muck.
Put telly on. All night. Get pissed.
Miner gets dragged past by his hair.
Keith loves his wife. Keith is the Driver. Oh, twist, character depth.
Telly lasts all night.
As they both touch upon the Miners Strike of 84, which I am personally very familiar with, I thought I'd treat you to a brief digested read for you to compare them. Well, saves me banging on about me sen.
I've rather helpfully titled my comparison Clemency 84.
Judy thought about the tupperware her mother bought them when they first got married, the way it all fitted together in the cupboard; no one could have convinced her then the stains would never wash out, not even with the new Presto brand washing up liquid she bought that weekend. She looked at Clifford, unfolding his pyjamas, rolled on her side: she had wondered if they might have sex tonight. Clifford turned out the light.
There are a lot more of us only we all sound the same, even if we're from London because there's only the North and London. But isn't that the point. Clever. Oh, you're asleep.
I don't sound the same because I represent socialism and therefore I'm a blagger and a sociopath, but don't worry, I'll die and all you'll remember is the colour of the book's cover.
****
Day 1. Martian speaks proper Yorkshire. We want people in London to read this book. Say it's bloody good. So we cut out article to make it sound like dialect. Bloody Hell. And short sentences. Everywhere. And occasional quote. In case you were getting cosy with narrative. Blue smoke goes drifting by. But Martian's real. His part's chopped into newspaper columns. Proof.
Everytime we change POV we have to change font. Because this is a thriller. We have to chop the whole lot up. Tiny segments. Like violence. Stuff happening too quick. At same time. Get the spade out. Fuck, fuck, fuck. A miner gets dragged past by his hair.
Slit is a nasty character. Nasty characters have pseudonyms.
The Driver is a bad man. The Driver has a spade. The Driver gets italics so his segments are short. You can't read much in Italics before you get bored.
Miner gets dragged past by his hair.
Nick Fontanelle is Nick. Nick Fontanelle is also Slit. Nick Fontanelle is on nearly every page but if we called him Nick Fontanelle every time you'd get sick of reading Nick Fontanelle. Nick Fontanelle is tough. Nick Fontanelle has a soft spot. Nick Fontanelle is like dog muck.
Put telly on. All night. Get pissed.
Miner gets dragged past by his hair.
Keith loves his wife. Keith is the Driver. Oh, twist, character depth.
Telly lasts all night.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Picture entry
Smiling like a banana to have made the shortlist of the AUT Creative Writing Awards for my graphic short story "Alchemy Hour".
Mega congratulations to the other four shortlistees!
Mega congratulations to the other four shortlistees!