Tight Lips

I was very nervous before last night's Tight Lip reading but in the event it went well.  It's far harder to read serious stories than it is to read funny ones.  With a funny story (assuming it is actually funny) you can tell the audience is engaged.  Serious stories can feel like reading into a void.  People I spoke to afterwards seemed enthusiastic and I was glad not to have settled for something jokey.  It's given me the confidence to think about reading more serious pieces in 2009.

I enjoyed Heli Clarke's reading, and had a very interesting discussion with her afterwards about improvisation in reading.  Her approach to reading in public is very different to mine and has given me lots to think about.

It was very exciting to see Lee Rourke.  He read a piece from his book Everyday, The Fat Slubberdegullion (online here), as well as a new piece that is scheduled to be published in Ambit next year.  The Fat Slubberdegullion was a very funny satire on office life, and worked well as a spoken piece.

I had a fantastic night – thanks to Jay and Sam for the invitation to read.  The next Tight Lip is at the Latest Music Bar on January 9th and features a discussion with Nina Antonia, author of a recent Johnny Thunders biography.

Reading at Tight Lip tonight

I've spent most of this week being ill.  I had hoped to finish a new story to read at Tight Lip, 'The Wood and the Trees', about books, playing in forests and moving house.  Sadly, after losing a couple of days, I've put that one aside.  I will return to it, but that might be some time in the future.

Instead of the brand new story I've been finishing another story that I wrote a while ago.  I've not read this one in public before, but the two people I've tested it out on really liked it.  It's a more serious piece than I normally read but I think it will work at Tight Lip.  I'm going work at it some more today, mostly removing words to make it flow better.  Also, at Rosy's suggestion, I've added the word 'rollicking' and corrected my misuse of the word 'less'.

There was a a half page interview in yesterday's Argus with tonight's headliner, Lee Rourke (online here).  I've been reading some of the stories from his book and am looking forward to hearing him read.  It should be a good night.  Entry is £4 on the door, at Brighton's Permanent Gallery, 20 Bedford Place, from 7:45pm.

I’m reading at Tight Lip on December 19th

The poster for the next Tight Lip has appeared on Sam Collin's flickr account.  I'm going to be reading with Lee Rourke and Heli Clarke, with music from Birdengine.  I'll be putting the finishing touches to my story over the weekend.  There's still some more to do, but it's going to be about moving house, buying books in Borders and getting lost in forests.  The night starts at 7:45om, entry £4 and should be very interesting.

Tight-lip

Shakespeare in the bush

I'm currently working on a story to read at Tight Lip on the 19th.  As background I flicked through Pierre Bayard's fantastic text How to Talk About Books You Haven't Read.  It's as good as I remember, and this time I decided to follow-up one its references, Shakespeare in the Bush.  This essay describes Laura Bohannan's disastrous attempt to tell the story of Hamlet to a tribe she was studying.

Bohannon starts out convinced that human nature is similar enough around the world that the  great tragedies should be possible for anyone to follow.  This doesn't turn out to be the case:

"The old man made soothing noises and himself poured me some more beer. 
"You tell the story well, and we are listening.  But it is clear that
the elders of your country have never told you what the story really
means.  No, don't interrupt!  We believe you when you say your marriage
customs are different, or your clothes and weapons.  but people are the
same everywhere; therefore, there are always witches and it is we, the
elders, who know how witches work.
"

The essay, with it's improvised retelling of Hamlet, is very funny while raising some fascinating questions.

Sparks Night 2

Last night was the second Sparks night at Brighton's 3 and 10. Brighton has a good range of literary nights, and both Sparks and Short Fuse feel like short anthologies.  Last night's stories were an interesting range.  They started with my story about a ventriloquist's funeral, 'A Bad Place to Stick Your Hand', and ended with Vanessa Gebbie's polemic about World War 1; in between were stories about gym trial memberships, ice-cubes of rainwater, school reunions and gold-fish.  It was a fascinating mix.

What makes Sparks unique is that each story is illustrated by a specially-commissioned photograph.  The image below is the one provided by John Biggs to illustrate my story – thanks, John.

Bowler

After the stories everyone milled around in the bar – it was one of the
friendliest night's I've been to.  Thanks to Jo for organising
everything.  I'm looking forward to the next one.

PS – Sparks now has a new blog.

Continuing the clear-out

After eliminating several thousand lines of notes I'm now sorting out my almost-finished and barely-started short stories.  A week or so back I had about 70 fragments and I've been working through these, either finishing or deleting them.  So far I've eliminated about 15 stories but I've also turned up some lovely pieces.  Some of these fragments are over 5 years old and the need to make decisions has forced me to rethink them. 

One of the downsides of cheap electronic storage is that everything can be kept rather than what is most useful.  Over time this can become overwhelming.  Any idea that's truly good will be memorable whether or not it's stored on a disk.

In between this, I've been practising reading 'A Bad Place to Stick Your Hand' in preparation for tonight's performance at Sparks.  I'm very excited to see how this works out, and can't wait to see the photograph that's been commissioned to illustrate the story.

Clearing out my notes

For years I've kept a computer file with notes for writing.  It contained brief story descriptions, character sketches and interesting lines, some salvaged from failed stories.  The file grew to a few thousand lines, with some entries that were years old.

As part of my general decluttering I've now eliminated the file.  I've taken out the ideas that suggest viable stories, moved some notes into works-in-progress and the rest are gone.  I think that having the file was more of a distraction than an aid.  Sometimes things were written in the file rather than take the time to write a fast draft and ended up never being written; other times I wrote things in the file rather than consider them properly at the time.

I'm very excited.  I now have a set of short stories that are no longer hidden amongst weeds and rubbish.  Over the next few weeks I'll see which ones grow into something interesting.  Clutter is never good.

Reading at Sparks Night on December 9th

I'm reading at Jo Horsman's next Sparks night, on December 9th at the Three and Ten in Brighton.  I'm very excited, as I'm reading alongside some very interesting people.  The line-up features Vanessa Gebbie, Jenn Ashworth, Kuzhali Manickavel, Pam Hewitt and Jacqueline Cattaneo.  I'm going to be reading a story called 'A Bad Place to Stick Your Hand'.  Tickets are £5.

"I was supposed to meet my family a couple of hours before the funeral but I ran late because of
work.  Everyone smiled when they saw me and I soon found out why: in my absence they'd decided
I would be doing the eulogy."

Short Fuse and Material Launch

I had hoped to memorise my story for last night's Short Fuse, but that didn't happen in the end.  Learning things by heart is much more difficult than I remembered.  I am, however, going to try again with something shorter as I want to see how not having pages in front of me affects the reading. 

I've been a little ill this week so I wasn't as enthusiastic about reading as I normally am, but the story seemed to go across well.  I didn't know how well spooky stories would work in a live environment but I found myself quite spooked during Tara's story.  At one point I turned round from where we were sitting to see the whole audience listening with total rapt attention.  I also loved Tanya Murray's story 'Lamia, dressed in all of Mary' (available in pdf here) which had a brilliant sense of impending doom.

The only downside of Short Fuse last night was that it clashed with the launch of Ros Barber's new collection, Material.  I dropped by to buy a copy but left before the readings, rather than disturb everything by sneaking out early.  Having read some of the poems, I'm very excited about this collection, but it probably deserves a post of its own.

On ‘edgy fucking litzine bollocks’

There's an interesting debate on the asalted blog about 'edgy fucking litzine bollocks'. Since some of the details have been obscured it's hard to tell exactly what happened, but essentially, an editor made an unfriendly rejection of a story; in retaliation, a friend of the rejectee "went to a greeking generator and mixed up some chunks of random text with expletives, and sent it to the editor along with a preposterous bio" (I'm assuming a greeking generator is something like this). This story has now been accepted and published.

Which is a brilliant story, but makes me nervous with its echoes of the Sokal hoax.  This was when a physicist had a paper published in a (non peer reviewed) 'postmodern cultural studies journal'. This was then used as a stick with which to beat the whole of critical theory. In fact the only thing the experiment showed was that a single journal had published an article based on the writer's authority rather than their understanding of the article's content. The problem was that the simple story (physicist pulls one over on kooky postmodernists) is easier to discuss than the more complicated issues behind it, which make Sokal a less clever and heroic figure than he often appears.

I'm prepared to give the literary journal in question the benefit of the doubt. Without naming names and allowing me to read the submission in context, the story of the journal accepting a random story is simply a morality fable.

For example, a piece constructed of seemingly-random text may well have made a powerful point in context with the other pieces in the journal. One could even imagine this piece being published in an ironic attack on avant-garde writing. A good editor should not be selecting the best pieces received, rather the pieces that advance their aims and work best as a group.

There are also questions of authorship here. Just because the author claims a piece is worthless doesn't make it so – Francis Bacon was known to destroy his own priceless works because he disliked them. It is possible that this piece is in fact a radically good avant-garde piece of writing. (One of the mistakes made by the victims in the Sokal affair was changing their opinions of Sokal's work after the hoax was revealed – would the editor here stand by the work selected?) The text in question is also not entirely a stream of random words – it has been processed and had (expletive) words added. Does that not count as a work of authorship? (And what about the authorship of the person who wrote the generator?).

There's another problem here in that, as Vanessa Gebbie has pointed out in the past, different markets are often incompatible. I read a lot of avant-garde poetry during my MA and, while I didn't appreciate all of it, that didn't mean other people couldn't be excited and moved by it. A couple of the comments I've seen on 'litzine bollocks' have become general attacks on a certain style of literature.

The original post in this debate is interesting because the people involved have read the pieces and know the full story. But, without that background, just because something is easy to mock doesn't mean it deserves it.

Sara – can we name the magazine and the (fake) author?