Storyville: The Love of Books

Just a quick post, but if you love books as much as I do, then the programme at the link below - Storyville: The Love of Books - will probably mean as much to you as it did to me:


Storyville: The Love of Books


(Apologies if it's not viewable outside the UK, but I can only find it on iPlayer.) 




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Songs about Writers







200 Years of Dickens

So, we have made it through all the Dickens chat, coverage and hype to the actual bicentennial day of his birth on the 7th February 1812.

I have chatted about him A LOT lately, so rather than chat about him some more, I thought I might let Claire Tomalin do it, with one of the most impressive paragraphs of her biography of him, which also happens to be the very last one of the book: 

'He left a trail like a meteor, and everyone finds their own version of Charles Dickens. The child-victim, the irrespressibly ambitious young man, the reporter, the demonic worker, the tireless walker. The radical, the protector of orphans, helper of the needy, man of good works, the republican. The hater and lover of America. The giver of parties, the magician, the traveller. The satirist, the surrealist, the mesmerist. The angry son, the good friend, the bad husband, the quareller, the sentimentalist, the secret lover, the despairing father. The Francophile, the player of games, the lover of circuses, the maker of punch, the country squire, the editor, the Chief, the smoker, the drinker, the dancer of reels and hornpipes, the actor, the ham. Too mixed to be a gentleman - but wonderful. The irreplacebale and unrepeatable Boz. The brilliance in the room. The inimitable. And, above and beyond every other description, simply the great, hard-working writer, who set nineteenth-century London before our eyes and who noticed and celebrated the small people living on the margins of society - the Artful Dodger, Smike, the Marchioness, Nell, Barnaby, Micawber, Mr Dick, Jo the crossing sweeper, Phil Squod, Miss Flite, Sissy Jupe, Charley, Amy Dorrit, Nandy, hairless Maggie, Sloppy, Jenny Wren the dolls' dressmaker. After he had been writing for long hours at Wellington Street, he would sometimes ask his office boy to bring him a bucket of cold water and put his head into it, and his hands. Then he would dry his head with a towel, and go on writing.'

Happy Dickens Day everyone! 







Songs about Writing

 







Lyndsay, Put the Pen Down...

It's been a funny couple of weeks, laced with New Year's revelations and a generous amount of carpet-whipping from under feet, disillusionment, and the such like. Look for further details in a novel of mine in twenty years' time.

Naturally, this is made me want to work, as writing is therapy to me, as I'm sure it is to you, so I buried my head in my computer this past week, only receiving the odd electric shock. Whilst on my internet travels, I saw that the submission deadline for a lit mag I like was the coming weekend, and I had a piece hanging around my computer that could be welded to fit the theme. The particular piece that was hanging around was a bit of a sore nerve, or, more literally, a representative of one, as I spent FOREVER on it, submitted it to Elle UK Writing Competition a few months ago, and sat around hoping that maybe it would go somewhere. Unfortunately, I didn't place *sob* (you can read a finalist's entry here), so gutted as I was, and as dramatic as I am, I decided that piece was dead, never to be looked at again.







Guestpost: 'What I Did To Promote My Book'

 Today I'm hosting a guest post from Sheila Dalton, author of 'The Girl in the Box', a psychological thriller published in 2011 and described as follows:

Caitlin Shaughnessy, a Canadian journalist, discovers that Inez, a traumatized young Mayan woman originally from Guatemala, has killed Caitlin's psychoanalyst partner, Dr. Jerry Simpson. Simpson brought the girl, who may be autistic, back to Canada as an act of mercy and to attempt to treat her obvious trauma. Cailin desperately needs to find out why this terrible incident occurred so she can find the strength to forgive and move on with her life.

Inez, whose sense of wonder and innocence touches all who meet her, becomes a focal point for many of the Canadians who encounter her. As Caitlin struggles to uncover the truth about Inez's relationship with Jerry, Inez struggles to break free of the projections of others. Each must confront her own anger and despair. The doctors in the north have an iciness that matches their surroundings, a kind of clinical armour that Caitlin must penetrate if she is to reach Inez.

The Girl in the Box is a psychological drama of the highest order and a gripping tale of intrigue and passion.

[Goodreads] 

I'm thrilled to present this to you all, as I think it gives an interesting description of the roles of the author, publisher, blogger and the internet in promoting and publicising a new book. Take it away, Sheila!







A Miscellany: Stamps, Book Clubs and Blog Carnivals

 First of all, how darling are these?!







'Date a Girl Who Reads' - A Critical Reading

So, I was Stumbling the other day for stuff in my interests and I came across this: 'Date a Girl  who Reads', via The Monica Bird, and, as lovely and popular as it is, I have some issues with it. So let's work through it critically... 

"Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve."

This is all fine, and quite sweet. 

"Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow."

Ok. Readers read, so if she's a real reader, that book in her bag has at least been opened, but more likely she's half way through it and that's why she couldn't bear to leave it at home. Also, this passage is encouraging someone to date a girl who it itself describes as 'a weird chick'? Isn't that a bit off? 

'She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.'

I'd be really ticked off if someone who'd just peered weirdly at my coffee sat down uninvited at my table, even if I was waiting for someone to rescue me from me supposed girl-who-reads-loneliness-hell. Which a girl who reads probably wouldn't be in, immersed as she usually is in a world where girls are more often than not their own heroes. And what if she's waiting for someone? How awkward would that be?

'Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.'

Sure, buy me coffee, although I would like to ask the questions please. And if I am a reader, I am intelligent - how patronising to presume that I'd say I understood James Joyce just to impress. Suddenly I don't want your coffee. 

'It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.'

This statement presumes that the only thing necessary for a good relationship is baeing able to buy her the things she likes and being able to make allowances for her little delusions. Hmm. 

'Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.'

No. Wrong. Fail. Sure, she might see all that stuff behind your lies, but how does that make it ok? Knowing what you're all about is just more likely to make her more decisive about leaving you by the wayside. 

'Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.'

Umm, why not be yourself and just see how it goes?

'Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.'

Ah, so that's why you're lying and failing her - because you're frightened? This comment at least uses the fact that she reads as a positive, rather than just making her someone to be patronised because she can explain it away to herself. The Twilight comment is quite funny, so kudos for that.

'If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.'

Yeah, that's fine. 

'You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.'

This is all very presumptuous. Sounds nice, but I bet everytime someone proposes in a hot air balloon, the driver (?) doesn't lean in and say 'I bet you read, don't you?' 

'Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.'

This part is good, but I'm not sure he deserves it. It should come with the caveat that if you do lie and fail her as suggested, you might struggle to get to this point. But girls who read are the best (as if I'd argue with that?) 

Or better yet, date a girl who writes."

BOOM. Yes. Although we can be over-critical sticklers at times....







Tolstoy's Facebook Page

Well now, this is hilarious - Tolstoy's Facebook Page.

This is a small sample of the hilarity you'll find at the above link:

'Tolstoy commented on Turgenev's comment: Schopenhauer joined.

Turgenev sent Tolstoy a personal message: A confidential warning -- Facebook is a catastrophic time-suck for Slavophile and Westernizer alike. Continue and you will never write a really big one. By the way -- LOVED The Cossacks. Best thing in the Russian language, EVER!

Tolstoy is reading Turgenev's collected work.

Tolstoy thinks Turgenev's writing is putrid and indulgent.

Tolstoy has posted an event: Duel with Turgenev.

Turgenev is attending the event: Duel with Turgenev.

Tolstoy has canceled the event: Duel with Turgenev.

Tolstoy is bored and depressed and embarrassed about the whole duel thing.

Tolstoy is 34 years old!'

Classic.







So...2011!

So, we have reached the end of 2011. Where has the year gone? I feel like this one has flown by. 

Looking back, it's been a mixed bag, overall, in terms of writing, blogging and reading - if I were to summarise this year in a sentence, it would be as 'the year in which I read a lot of books I didn't want to be reading'.








Is it Misogynistic if It's of Its Time?

You know, I'm a fairly modern girl, and, using fairly large strokes, take the equal stance of women in the Western world entirely for granted. I think most girls my age (I'm 26) would say the same: we believed without pause that we were entitled to education, to respect and to our own voices. The last one I especially accept without question, and set up my own platform (this one) without pause. So far, so fine.

Then, the other day, I caught myself singing and dancing along to this quite loudly whilst getting dressed one morning, and realised that I was quite happily singing along with surely one of the most misogynistic songs ever performed:







Wedding Poems

This is actually the sister post to something I posted in November about looking for wedding poems with a friend; this is the one where I describe those that were actually found. I didn't do the finding, the bride found them herself, but I always think that the poems read at weddings say quite a lot about the bride and groom, both as a couple and as individuals.

Here are the two chosen for the wedding a few weeks ago, in the venue that reminded me of Manderley in 'Rebecca':








The Christmas Gift Picker

Stuck for ideas for presents? I know, get them books! Seeing as that is not the kind of information you normally get from me (ha), you know to take it seriously and oblige.

This might help: The Vintage Book's Gift Picker.

And failing that, get them 'A Christmas Carol' (no-one can resist Tiny Tim - what a bummer that I didn't manage to get to that before Christmas. Look forward to an unseasonable review in February!) or Jilly Cooper's 'How to Survive Christmas'(I remember seeing this on my mum's bedstand when I was younger and being like 'Mum? Are you ok?')

I imagine most families fit into the mould of one or another or these.

My other contribution to Christmas this year is the addition of green to my usual red blog theme. I did doctor the Tolstoy is my Cat logo in Paint, adding a Christmas hat and some holly, but it looked so naff that I won't be uploading it here. I was also a little concerned that the logo designer, who's a friend on facebook, might see that I'd destroyed her logo with lame makeshiftness, so out of respect for her, I have abstained :)

I so wish it would snow! Snow always makes me want to take my delicious copy of Dr. Zhivago off the shelf and waft around looking pale in furs. Of course, in reality, it's exciting for a day or two, or for as long as you don't have to spend much time outdoors, and then it becomes the most annoying thing since unsliced bread. 

Some for Christmas would be nice though, wouldn't it?  





Last Night I Dreamt I Went to Manderley Again...

...when I arrived at my friend's beautiful wedding venue this weekend in Gartocharn, Scotland, and was reminded overwhelmingly of the iconic Manderley of Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca.

It was, of course, stunningly, starkly, beautiful, but it had that slightly eerie menace of wild places that could turn nasty as soon as the weather pulls in and someone malevolent steps out from behind that tree.

There was a long, straight, tree-lined driveway, a stark edifice of a Gothic mansion right next to a boatyard and a huge expanse of very cold water.

Yes, I might have been being a little dramatic, but see what you think:







10 Lessons on Nano, from a Non-Winner

So, I didn't manage to 'win', which is the official parlance for reaching the designated 50,000 words that comprise the completion of the Nanowrimo challenge. My score comes in at a respectable (to me, anyway) but unfortunately not winning, 30,031. I'm actually quite proud of that, and intrigued that, weirdly, that works out as 1,001 words per day. Maybe that's my 42?

Anyway, I think, as a loser, I might be able to point out the good behaviours that might get you to the end. 

Here we go: 







Being a Writer is Perilous...

...if all these articles I've come across lately are to be believed:

Hypergraphia, Bipolar and Writer's Block:

Harvard Medical Alumni Bulletin

Alcoholism in Writers, and the Accompanying Risks of Sobriety:

Intelligent Life

So, you know, hold onto your hats...

FYI, normal, slightly more elaborate, service will resume once Nanowrimo is finished on Wednesday.

Current weigh-in: God knows... 





Writer's Block is a Bitch

...here's how to manage it:

The 10 Types of Writers' Block (and How to Overcome Them)


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How to Create a Plot Twist

Another one aimed quite squarely at the Nano-ers: it's definitely this kind of point in the month for me, I don't know about anyone else. I found this online the other day:

10 Ways to Create a Plot Twist, by T. N. Tobias.

He's right to warn at the beginning of it that it might change the way you view stories forever. Really good advice though.

Weigh-in: 22,239... 





Nobody Tells This To Beginners...

A lot of people will know this already, but I really like it, so I thought I'd share.

 

I would also take from this the idea that you shouldn't worry if your Nanowrimo-ing is going appallingly, for whatever reason: just think of it as part of your necessary body of work :) Think how much nearer you're getting to your goal, given the logic above.

P.S. My sad, sad weigh-in: 15,188. I am now really, really behind!







This is Why Writing is Awesome.

Today I got roped into an off-stage skills learning days for 14-15 year olds in the theatre that is a fundraising client. Basically, 60 teenagers split into little groups and travelled around the theatre and had 2 minutes with a representative of many of the 'off-stage' skills it takes to run an arts organisation. I was the resident writer, as you'd probably guess.

After meeting all of us off-stage staff, we reassembled on the stage and they talked about what they learnt.

Writing was the only skill amongst all those on offer that did not necessary require university, could be learnt in your own time and off your own back, and all activity associated with training for it, save the price of pencils, was free.

They seemed to get that, and to like it. And I was so proud to tell them what I do. This is why writing is awesome.

I just thought I'd share.


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