Graphic sorry

Couple of things for you before the Easter Bunny gets here:

Just enough time to get your nominations in to Story South Award - closing April 9th - for the best short story of at least 1,000 words published online (not self-published) in 2011. Thanks to Dorothee Lang for this link.

My thanks to AUT and judge Dylan Horrocks for picking my graphic story "Alchemy Hour" to win the AUT New Zealand Creative Writing Competition - my first ever win - seriously, unless we're counting that spagetti I won at the tombola in infant school (spag that turned out to be dried up in the single person sized tin - enough for one person, that is, not a tin as large as a single person - that would be silly). If you'd like to read the story, it's here.

Followers of my face book page will have noted I was particularly overwhelmed by my success, in part for the above reason, but also because I almost didn't enter the competition at all. The deadline was looming and it wasn't clear from the entry guidelines if non-students could enter. Huge thanks to Ant Sang for finding out and letting me know I could. But I was literally going against the clock and the story I did enter wasn't even my first choice.

My first choice ate up a lot of time and paper and ended up down the back of the book case. My winning story, therefore, was something of a last minute panic, and lucky for me it was because that's what gave me the inspiration for the structure - that and the fact I can't actually draw! Oh, and the other fact that I was down to two pieces of A4 cold pressed cotton paper. Just goes to show it's sometimes what you don't have that counts! That was the structure sorted.

Content wise, my daughter had just had her first surf lesson and I'd spent the whole of that day just staring at the sea, studying the way the waves peak and roll. I wanted to capture that. In my dreams I imagined the piece as a mini movie, I'm not convinced I pulled it off, but the thing I am happiest about is that I finally got to tell the story about my granddad.

My granddad taught me to paint with his watercolour paints. He kept them in a shortbread tin in the pantry cupboard in the caravan where my brother and I holidayed with him. I found him just after he'd died. I was nine.

I'm sorry I was too late, I hope my story conveys that.

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.

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.

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!

Heat me

Got a poet inspired flash in the HEAT issue of Flash Frontiers. Many thanks to Michelle Elvy and editors.

Subs up

Subs call.

Very excited to have been asked to guest edit the second edition of the Aotearoa Affair Blog Festival. Click the link for more details of how you can take part.

"In these pages we’re highlighting Kiwi and German writers in 2012 and creating a space for interested readers and bloggers to connect and share related posts. If you are a Kiwi or German living anywhere in the world, or if you are from somewhere else but have settled in New Zealand or Germany, we want to hear from you."

Submissions deadline: March 20th - what are you waiting for? Email submissions to:nzgermany2012 [AT] gmail [DOT] com

You timing

Since school started back, and my daughter's swimming training, and withdrawing my son from kindy, I seem to spend most of my time behind the wheel, or making play dough, or elevated narrow gauge rail tracks - yes, seriously , just ask my son -  and any free time is for writing. Guarded! Hence the lack of blogging.

Thank you time to two talented writers for nominating snowlikethought for blog awards, Teresa Stenson and Catherine McNamara.



Rather than post the awards, which I was nominated for yonks and badger years ago, I thought it would be nice to post a little about the nominators.



First award came from Teresa Stenson. Teresa blogs here and wrote this and is from just darn rooerd from me, so I'm rather proud of her. She's also so real and talented any fakers reading this ought to fall to bits and have their less than authentic parts crawl off to join Joan Rivers’ armpit.



Second award came from Catherine McNamara. Cat blogs here and wrote this which is to be followed by Pelt and Other Stories in 2013 from IDP, and she’s from just over the ditch from where I am now which makes us neighbours, I think. A strong woman writer; if there are any fakers left reading, please mwah yourselves inside out and select a new profile after Cat’s example.



Ladies, I salute you!


PS, I was supposed to write seven things about me, here goes:

1. I collect the variety stickers off fruit - my notebooks are covered in them - even wrote a story about one and an epic poem.

2. I have a 34 inch inside leg.

3. I drink on average fifteen cups of tea per day.

4. For reasons of area, half my books are in the garage along with a 1950s table I dream of one day having mismatched vintage chairs around and a cherry patterned cloth on.

5.  E. A. Markham, otherwise known as Archie, taught me creative writing. We had giggling fits together along with my mate, Bev, much to the bemusement of other seminar goers, and he said I showed "great promise" - important words to me at the time.

6. I don't like ice-cream.

7. In unfamiliar company, I often lie about my opinion just to see how other people react; I can't turn off the people watching long enough to talk properly.

I was also supposed to pass the award on.

If you want the award, take it, you've all done more blogging than me to deserve it!