Barnes v Trapido / Conductor / Offshore whore / Lockout poetry

Recent reading

I recently finished listening to Barbara Trapido’s novel Sex and Stravinsky on my iPod and quickly followed this up with Julian Barnes’ The Sense of an Ending, which won the Booker Prize this year.

Trapido’s novel clocked in at a normal 11 hours and change, while Barnes’ was over half the time. It was a nice feeling to finish two books in quick succession after two and a bit months of listening to Nicholas Nickleby (however much I enjoyed that book).

The Sense of an Ending worked magnificently as an audiobook. There’s a single narrator, Tony Webster, who recalls specific moments in his life relating to a particular strand of memory: those relating to his friend, Adrian, who committed suicide in his early twenties. Tony weaves in and out of memory, digressing often on just what memory is and how it changes with time, but also finds the time to muse about the modern world, retirement, divorce and self-delusion. This is the kind of novel some agents might describe as quiet or slow, if you were to query them as a no-name writer, but I found it a thrilling and engaging story – thrilling, I guess, because it felt so intimate and real.

Sex and Stravinsky on the other hand, was not as well suited to the audiobook format. Trapido’s third person narrator inhabits at least eight different character’s perspective during the novel, and while the third person is kept up throughout, the voice of the narrator often transmutes into the perspective character’s voice (especially when we’re following the two adolescent girl characters). I found this mix of third and first person techniques confusing in an audiobook, as the narrator adopted the voice of the difficult teenage girl while still referring to the girl as Kat/her/she. Also, the reader, Jan Francis, had the difficult task of managing English, Australian, South African (three sorts: English settler, Afrikaner and Zulu), French and Italian accents.

The most engaging part of the novel for me were the parts about Caroline’s mother, who ranks up there with Mrs Nickleby in the pantheon of aggravating mothers in fiction. Unfortunately, after Caroline’s mother dies (to the delight of the reader), Francis's voice for Caroline alters and becomes a bit too similar to her shrewish mother. This is no fault of Trapido, of course, but it is difficult to think about the text objectively without thinking about the slips and tangles in the audiobook version.

Having said this, I’m still a big advocate of audiobooks. In my experience there are far more successes (like Barnes’ and Dickens’ novels) that problem children.


Still a paperboy

The paper book I’m reading at the moment is The Conductor by Sarah Quigley. I’m about halfway and have to say I haven’t really been sucked in just yet. Perhaps it’s the musical chairs the narrative plays with it’s three perspective characters (of which only Shostakovich was known to be beforehand). Perhaps it’s the fact I’m saving the CD recording of The Leningrad Symphony until the point it appears in the story. Perhaps it’s that I’m not really in the reading headspace all that often at the moment with all the wedding guff that crowds out my leisure time?


For completists

Last month I blogged about the bad review I received (belatedly). I also wrote a column about it for the Dom Post but it wasn’t posted online (there’s no real logic I can see to what is and what isn’t posted on www.stuff.co.nz). I include a scan of it here for posterity's sake.

Common ground

You’ve got just over a week left to submit your short story for the Commonwealth Short Story Competition, for which I am one of the judges.

For those who’ve submitted or are still thinking about it, I wrote something about my experience with prizes for the Commonwealth Writers website: basically, don’t just enter competitions, revise your stories, submit to journals, get better, get published. Simple, eh?

I also wrote about my favourite bricks and mortar bookshop, Unity Books on Willis Street, for which I expect at least a high five next time I come a'browsing!


Offshore whore

I spoke to Julie Green of the Griffith REVIEW about my story, ‘Offshore service’, and my time spent in Queensland. You can read the interview here.


Side-effects of the NBA lockout

It looks like the chances of an NBA season this year are slim to none. This is terrible news for arena staff in the states and some lower level employees of the teams who rely on basketball games for a paycheck. Spare a thought also for the basketball journalists, who have had to stake out bargaining sessions between the players and the owners which have stretched into the wee small hours (and inevitablty end with both sides unwilling to make detailed comments at the ensuing press conference as negotiation is still ongoing).

Some writers are turning their attentions to other basketball leagues around the world (where a small number of NBA players are also looking to supplement their incomes). They appear heavily reliant on Google Translate to file their updates – today Yahoo Sports’ Adrian Wojnarowski tweeted that the Houston Rocket’s Marcin Gortat had signed with a Turkish team, then hastily tweeted a retraction that the two parties were in fact still negotiating and the confusion stemmed from Google Translate.

Much more exciting to me was the news from SB Nation blogger Tom Ziller (@teamziller) that when you throw a Chinese box score into Google Translate it tells you there is a statistical category “was invaded” ('turnovers' to you and me). Ziller also points to a headline which translates as "Yi Jianlian floating in the sky watching JR violence of his four years of a button changes."

I’m feeling a James Brown- (NZ poet not US soul singer) style poem coming on.


Novel update

I heard back from my editor last week after she read the first c.50,000 words of THE NOVEL. She referred to it as the embryo of my novel, which might be another way of putting it. Anyway, she liked it (it would be unfair to quote embryonic praise as there’s a lot that can go wrong between now and the final manuscript) and I am to push on and finish the beasty but it looks like it won’t come out till February 2013. This means I’ll only get to publish one book in my twenties. Oh well. It does give me a few extra months next year to really make it the best book I can. And to write some short stories and find them homes before the birth of THE NOVEL. And find a friggin' title.

Judge, Jury and Executioner

In Her Majesty's Service

The Commonwealth Writers Prize has relaunched in its amended form, along with a new website, http://www.commonwealthwriters.org/, with some content from past winners. There’s even an online writer in residence, fellow short story supremo Katrina Best.

I’m really excited about the revamped Commonwealth Short Story Prize. It used to be a 600-word limit (winning entries were intended for radio broadcast) but now the canvas is much larger: 2000-5000 words to be exact.

I’m honoured to be one of this year’s judges, which means I’ll get to read the freshest writing from Africa, the Caribbean,  Canada, South Asia, the UK and of course the Pacific.

NZ is also represented in the Best First Book judging panel, with Emily Perkins signing on (where does she find the time?).


Turn The Page 

I’m already in two minds about Bob Seger after Friday's hasty declaration.


Reprint! Reprint! Reprint!


Random House is reprinting A Man Melting. A modest number at this stage using a short-run system, so the foil on the cover will just be printed in colour. It'll be interesting to see how much of a difference this makes…

There’s still some foil first editions in NZ/Aus bookstores if you want one, but get in quick! For the rest of the world, it’s a matter of taking your chances ordering online (see info in the sidebar ---->) or buying the eBook (definitely no foil).

Bang Bang Bang: Musical interlude

Promises, promises

Tomorrow, Thursday 20 October 2011, I will write 6,376 words of THE NOVEL. 

I know I can do it. I wrote 6,376 words on Wednesday 10 December 2008, that being the year I tried (and failed) to write one million words in a year, and the 6,376 words being my best word count for a single day. 

That day I was working on the short story which became 'Unnatural Selection', which closes A Man Melting. So it's not like I was writing total nonsense (though I can't say for sure how many of those 6,376 words survived in the final 10,000 word story; the first draft was a flabby 13,000 words).

Why am I setting myself this lofty goal? Because I'm spinning my wheels at the moment, spending hours inserting historical detail and agonising over how Scottish my Scottish characters should sound (must I type 'doon' for 'down' whenever they speak?), and I really want to break new ground.

So tomorrow I will rise at 6am, slip on my slippers and write like stink, leaving square brackets willy-nilly and powering the story out into the open seas and closer to the inevitable calamity in the Southern Ocean.

And if I fail? Um. If I fail I promise not to post any bird photos on this blog for 12 months! Yeah, I know! The things I must resort to.

Excuse me while I erect my petard.

Other things I need to do in the next few weeks:

• Come up with a title, even just a working title, for THE NOVEL, by 1 November (suggestions welcome, the less relevant the better). 
• Submit something to Turbine by 21 October.
• Get a haircut.
• Buy a wedding band (M. has hers sorted already)
• Give Bob Seger another chance.

Bob Seger during his short-lived Snuffleupagus phase

The Long and the Short of Success

Congratulations to Lawrence Patchett (a.k.a. Mr Long) and Kirsten McDougall (a.k.a. Ms Short) for coming up trumps in the Long and the Short of It competition run by Unity Books and Sport.

From the press release:

The judges – Elizabeth Knox, Bill Manhire and Emily Perkins – comment that both winning stories ‘deal with difficult things and find their way to various kinds of human decency’.

Of Lawrence Patchett’s long story: ‘This remarkable—apparently artless, apparently old-fashioned—story strikes a quiet new note in New Zealand fiction. “The Road to Tokomairiro” shows us how ordinary human fortitude and decency can be, even in the most troubled circumstances. The story has moral seriousness, but feels “lighter” than its subject matter, perhaps because it is so beautifully and sympathetically written.’

Of Kirsten McDougall’s short story: ‘“Clean Hands Save Lives” is about how families work; it’s about generational power struggle; it’s about how to be a functioning mother. There’s lovely pacing, and yet we get a real story, not just a quick sketch of family dynamics—and there’s also a nice sense of comic circularity (the snake with its tail in its mouth) courtesy of some supermarket biscuits.’

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The stories are published, along with four highly commended stories – ‘Anchorage’ by Sylvie Thomson and ‘When We Were Bread’ by Anna Jackson in the long division, and ‘The Orienteer’ by Rachel O’Neill and ‘The Waikato Farmers’ by Craig Cliff in the short division – in The Long and the Short of It, which is available from Unity Books, RRP $20.

My story is inspired by this story from the Waikato Times; or more correctly, the farmers in my story seem to have been inspired/corrupted by the story in the news.

The wordcount is exactly 1000, counting the title. So yeah, just squeaked in.

There’s a grand event (or a "petit finale" according to @FergusVUP) at the Auckland Writers and Readers Festival, Sunday 15 May, 5.00-6.15pm. The two winners will read from their stories and be interviewed by Emily Perkins. It’s free and all are welcome. Unfortunately I’ll be checking in at the airport for my flight to Sydney at that time (my first Sydney Writers’ Festival event is in the Blue Mountains on Monday morning). Excitement.

Aucklanders can still come and see me do my thang at these two Auckland events:

Emerging Writers session, with Hamish Clayton and Tina Makereti, Saturday 14 May at 1pm  (FREE!!)

Commonwealth Writers Prize session, with David Mitchell and Aminatta Forna, Sunday 15 May at 1pm  (ALSO FREE!!!!)

Okay, enough spruiking. I'm off to further pare back the wordcounts and whip up a 150 word short short story for the BNZ Literary Awards. Entries close 16 May.


UPDATE

5 Hours Later...

I have written one 150 word story, as well as a few things that turned out to be poems. I also went for a walk and when I got back there was a copy of Sport 39 and several copies of the Long and the Short of It book. Score!

That's my plane reading sorted for tomorrow!

An embargo, a flying visit and a mystery barge: my Commonwealth Writers Prize experience

Newsflash: A Man Melting has won the Best First Book award for the South East Asia and Pacific region of the 2011 Commonwealth Writers Prize.

Actually, this isn’t that much of a newsflash. It was announced in Sydney on Wednesday night (I was there, more on this later) and the results were published in Australian newspapers (like this from the Syndey Morning Herald) on Thursday morning. It took a bit longer to break the news here in NZ, but by Thursday afternoon it was doing the rounds on Twitter. I got a phone call from a Dom Post reporter yesterday (Friday) and today a tiny piece appeared in my local paper.

But the news is even older than that for me.

I found out (by reading Beatties Book Blog rather than any direct correspondence) that I was short-listed for best first book on Friday 11 February.

For the next few days I was over the moon with making that far. I circled March 3 in my moleskine as the day the regional winners would be announced and began tempering my expectations.

As I blogged here on 16 February, the press release from the Commonwealth Writers Prize on the short-list mentioned that the first book nominees included "a comic treatment of the Rapture in the US, a story of Aborigines, a detective thriller involving an historical right-wing militia culminating in the opening of Sydney Harbour Bridge, an obsessive cartographer and her twin sister living down trauma from the collapse of Yugoslavia, and the laconic lives of casual grape pickers in rural Australia."

No mention of anything from A Man Melting = no chance of winning. Or so I thought.

When I blogged on the 16th, I was actually being a bit disengenous. This was what I'd thought in those first few days of being short-listed, but by the time I posted it, I knew I’d won!

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Musical interlude:

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Don’t feel bad, general public to whom I lied. I also lied to my mum, my brother (who lives in the same house as me), my in-laws-to-be, my boss and workmates, my friends, the Wellington Branch of the NZ Society of Authors, Creative New Zealand (I applied for a residency, but could only put that I’d been short-listed), the Auckland Writers Festival and probably a couple more trusting souls. It’s called an embargo, and I certainly wasn’t going to break the first one that applied to me! It was a test, and I passed.

I think.

When I was invited to the announcement of this region’s winners on 3 March in Sydney, I asked the Sydney based administrator if I got any travel assistance, since, y’know, I’d won and all? It seems only the 3 SE Asia and Pacific judges and the UK based administrator who was organising the week of activities for all the regional winners in May knew the results... But if I hadn’t have spilt the beans, I may not have made it to Sydney for 23 fun-filled hours to collect my prize and take a whole heap of selfies.

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Example of a selfie from Sydney:

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Sidenote: Not telling someone you’ve won something when the information is strictly embargoed probably isn’t lie. Proper lies do damage to the receiver, whereas in this case, most of the time I was damaging my own chances of getting a residency or attracting people to my session at the Auckland Writers Festival or getting my friends to buy me beer.

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Sydney

I caught the 6am flight from Wellington (which entailed getting up before 4am), arrived in Sydney around 9am, but couldn’t check into my hotel room until later because there were no rooms ready yet.

I walked around town, basically doing a circuit down George Street (checking out camera shops: I plan to spend the prize money on a digital SLR camera) to Circular Quay and back up Pitt Street, then hanging out in Hyde Park.

It was 2pm when I finally got to check in and have a shower, shave, iron my shirt and compose myself for my first ever acceptance speech.

I didn’t write anything beforehand and just winged it. People said it was good but afterwards I realised I totally missed a trick. If I had the chance again, I would begin thusly:

Thank you Elizabeth [the person who handed me the award]. I’m not used to giving acceptance speeches. The only other time I’ve won anything to do with writing was the novice award at the BNZ Katherine Mansfield short story competition in 2007, which just so happened to coincide with the time I was in Europe. So I sent my mum along to receive my award. Unfortunately my mum couldn’t be here this evening, so I’ll just muddle through...

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I actually have video of my mum’s speech (I wrote the speech at a friend’s place in Hamburg; she read it, with one small extemporaneous addition) on a DVD somewhere. I’m not sure where though.

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At the awards ceremony there were some of the other short-listed writers and their publishers, from both the first book and big boy categories – but not all of the short-listed writers. I was the only representative from New Zealand, so I guessed early on that Lloyd Jones and Patrick Evans hadn’t won the non-first book prize. No one from Random House NZ came over to cheer me on, which some of the people there thought was a bit off – me: I understand money’s tight at the mo with the whole RED Group thing, and I think they trusted me to equip myself well at such a shindig. I hope I don’t become one of those authors who expects to be coddled... I’m not sure publishers will have the luxury of coddling authors in the brave new world of books anyway.

Also in attendance were people involved with the Commonwealth Writers Prize, such as  current and past judges (most of whom were Australian academics), sponsors (the event was at Macquarie’s offices), publicists, literary agents, the odd reporter and other Aussie writers.

I had a surreal conversation with the two publicists who had worked on the regional prize. One clearly knew I’d won, and kind of asked if I knew I’d won, but I was still so used to demurring in such situations that I kind of shrugged and grabbed a mini Yorkshire pudding and beef canapé and shoved it in my mouth. I can;t remember the other publicist saying a single word.

The speeches started with the obligatory thanks to the backers, then Dr Paul Sharrad, the chair of the judging panel, said a bit about each of the six short-listed books in the two categories.

Speaking about A Man Melting, he mentioned three specific stories, though not by name: ‘Unnatural Selection’ (“the story of a woman returning home after living in the United States...”) ‘Manawatu’ (“a story that tackles suicide...”), and “my favourite, the trials of a woman cooking for a tribe of London school kids on a barge in bad weather.”

Thing is, that story is not in my book, nor is it one I’ve written. When he was giving his speech I thought maybe he’d mixed up the elements of ‘Fat Camp’ (a man moves to Scotland with his partner to run weight-loss camp for teens and ends up running the black market in chocolate bars), but it's also mentioned in a press release... he’s clearly talking about another story.

Perhaps it’s a story in Amanda Lohrey’s collection of short stories, Reading Madame Bovary, which was short-listed for the non-first book award. We were the only short fictioneers amongt the twelve short-listees, and I can see how books may blend into one another..

So I’m just writing that down as weird, and will not freak out that the chair of the judging panel’s favourite story in my book is not in my book.

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Fact-checked excerpt from the press release post-announcement

“A Man Melting marks the appearance of a lively new voice in New Zealand writing, wry, punchy, filled with fresh images [this sounds like me], and providing an engaging mix of fantasy and gritty realism [uh-huh]. It handles both male and female characters convincingly [why thank you] and tackles serious social concerns such as suicide [tick] with a combination of delicacy and dramatic directness [if you say so]. The stories cover a range of situations [definitely] from the emotional process of returning home from overseas [see ‘Unnatural Selection’], to cooking for a tribe of London school kids on a barge in bad weather [um...]. These are extraordinary stories [I couldn’t possibly comment] about ordinary people [tick], and they are told with a great deal of affection [I am a big softy]. It is a consistently powerful and entertaining collection [*blushes*] and is awarded the prize accordingly.”

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After the prizes were announced and the acceptance speeches had been delivered (Kim Scott said: “I’d just like to echo everything that Craig said,” which made me feel good, and means Kim Scott also thanked the New Zealand Ministry of Education for being a flexible and supportive employer), it was time for a few photos. They had a small number of all the short-listed books for sale and they all sold out. I signed about five. My Australian sales figures increased exponentially in one night. Then we finished the free booze and canapés and I went to dinner with some of the Commonwealth Writers Prize people, including Dr Paul Sharrad (I didn’t mention the barge story), the administrator for whom I spoiled the surprise of my victory (we discussed this at length), and a bunch of other good people to know in Australian letters. Much wine was consumed.

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I flew back to Wellington on the 8.45am flight the next day.

I know the burning question you all have: What movies did I watch on the plane?

Going there: The Social Network. Verdict: A very good movie, well put together.

Coming home: 127 Hours (aka the one where James Franco is trapped in a canyon and has to cut his hand off). I was interested in how the movie would handle a story which is ultimately like Titanic (we know it’ll sink) but with less characters and less movement. I thought it did a good job. Only problem was I mistimed things and got served my breakfast right when he starts hacking off his arm. I can’t watch surgery shows on TV, so this wasn’t a good thing. Even averting my eyes from the screen, I still got the electric screech through my earphones every time he snipped a nerve or tendon. When I tried to open the little capsule of milk for my cup of tea, the ends of my fingers were all numb and the capsule when flying under the feet of the person seated next me.

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So, that’s my Sydney story.

Work on Friday was a real struggle. Back to earth with a thud – even though there was carrot cake for morning tea and people congratulated me throughout the day, it was still work.

Now that the other region’s winners have been announced, I’m even more excited about the week of activities in Sydney in May. Amongst the winners are Emma Donaghue (Canada) whose novel Room was my favourite to winner the Booker Prize last year (I was wrong), and one of my favourite writers, David Mitchell (UK). Eep. I’ll have to work on how not to sound like a fanboy now that I’ve got this whole embargo thing mastered.

Worksheet #51, now with parentheses!

I haven't read everything in this year's edition of Turbine yet, but I have read Pip Adam's short story 'Featherston Street' and was well impressed. Don't let the dull title and the muted, engineering-speak opening put you off. It's a great example of Pip's aspiration to "represent large built forms in new and engaging ways", which she discussed more fully when I interviewed her back in July.

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Plus ones (demo)

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I've now finished The Hut Builder by Laurence Fearnley and have a number of comments I'll cobble together into a separate post. While it wasn't the sort of book that would cause me to reshuffle my top ten books of 2010 (there's goes any hope of a gender equitable split), it has prompted a massive realignment of my own writing projects… Like I said, watch this space.

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Terrible love (alternate version)

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I’ve submitted my entry for the Unity Books’ The long and the short of it competition. Despite best intentions to enter the ‘long’ category (10,000 words plus) I’ve put all my eggs in a sub-1000 word wonder.

Entries close on Christmas Eve, so I made it in plenty of time (as far as s/s competitions are concerned).

I was surprised to read in the confirmation email that winners would be informed by 1 May 2011. That sure seems like a long time, but I guess it’s to line up with the next issue of Sport (in which a select number of entries will appear).

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Full on (reprise)

(disclaimer: I no idea what's going on with the video)

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Speaking of long lead times, I received an email this week informing me that two of my poems had been accepted for the next edition of the online poetry zine Trout (#16). I appeared in Trout #15 way back in October 2008, so it’s been a long time between editions. I submitted my poems back in August 2009, so that means it was 16 months between submission and acceptance. Unfortunately one of these two ‘new’ poems had subsequently been published elsewhere (‘Free walking tour with my brother’, Snorkel #11)...

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Popular (acoustic)

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I went searching through my old blog to see if I mentioned the last time I got accepted for Trout (and how long the wait was), but I didn’t seem to. I did, however, re-read this post about when I went to Greece.

The sun sets everywhere, everyday, but not all sunsets are equal. 

How smart I was back in 2008!

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Nuclear War (version 2)

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Some more bracket-y type titles I couldn't find youtube versions for:

It's all over now, baby blue (live)

Gotta know (remix)

Yazoo Street scandal (outtake)

All in one (medley)

Good day (extended edit)

White riot (single)

Vamos (another version)

(untitled)

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P.S. (new version)

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Newsflash: Trout #16 is now online.  I was cheeky and sent another poem which was accepted in the Snorkel poem's stead.

Read: 'Six napkins' and 'Ten places I could be with the big one hits' (which, coincidentally, shares something in common with 'Featherston Street'...)

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Leatherman (bonus track)

Cosmetics and confusion: Introducing the BNZ Literary Awards

Big announcement:

The BNZ Katherine Mansfield Awards, one of New Zealand's big two short story competitions (the Sunday Star Times competition being the other), are now to be called the BNZ Literary Awards. The Premier Award (basically the winner of the open category) will now be known as the BNZ Katherine Mansfield Award.

Big whoop.

I checked the BNZ's website last week to see when entries would open for this year's competition and who the judges might be, and was told about the "facelift" (their term), and that more details would be available on 1 June. The only other change I can see is that the deadline has been pushed back to 23 July 2010 (it was 30 June in previous years). Good news for recalcitrant short story writers like me, but hardly ground breaking.

Are there any other changes? The prize money looks the same as last year (wouldn't $10k be nice for less than 5000 words…). No judges are announced as yet… maybe changes are afoot there: a panel, or perhaps the entrants won't be told who'll be judging them, just as the judges don't know who's written each story? For some reason I doubt it.

It seems it's just a bit of rebranding. I don't want to rip what is a great competition and one which has helped me get two rungs up the literary ladder, but isn't "The BNZ Literary Awards" a little misleading. It is, after all, still a short story competition. "Competition", "Award", I'm willing to let that slide (especially if there are tax advantages). And I know the previous name didn't mention short stories, but Katherine Mansfield was a pretty big clue. Do BNZ intend on expanding the "Awards" to include other literary forms like poetry and essays/creative nonfiction? What about longer literary forms: novellas, novels, memoirs, biographies… Again, I doubt it.

This isn't meant to be a criticism of the competition, I mean awards, or the BNZ (who must be praised and praised again for fronting up with the case for over 50 years…), but what's wrong with telling it like it is? Isn't the NZ literary awards scene already muddled enough by the fact that NZ Post seems to sponsor everything else (again: cheers to NZ Post, boos most every other NZ corporation)? A visitor from overseas could be forgiven for not knowing which of the following were bigger deals: a Prime Minister's Literary Award (career achievement) and a Bank of New Zealand Literary Award (one short story)? I guess it's all in the footnoting.

For details on how to enter, click here.