It started on Monday morning with a talk to a group at Northfield library – what a treat to start the week like that!. Quite apart from my personal use of libraries, especially for their unabridged audio books on CDs, which allow me to catch up on ‘reading ‘ novels, I love visiting the different libraries around Birmingham. After The Dangerous Sports Euthanasia Societywas published, I was invited to talk to reading groups and other interested people in libraries all around the city, but for some reason that I can’t now remember, a planned visit to Northfield library didn’t happen, so I was delighted to be invited there by Lesley.

It’s a bit of a Tardis: once you step inside, there seem to be all sorts of bright open spaces on different levels. There were lots of people already seated in the large meeting room upstairs, and when I found that none of them had yet read my first novel, I realised that I’d need to make time for Agnes Borrowdale, the 75 year old heroine, before I moved on to talk about my new novel, Paper Lanterns.

Because part of that novel was inspired by some real-life letters, I usually start by reading one from the married English woman in 1920, and then one from the young Chinese girl. I think in future I’ll have to suggest that people bring some tissues with them as I’m sure there were hints of tears on some faces. You’ll see why, when you read that letter in one of my next posts, (or in the book itself!)

I didn’t really know what to expect from the event on Thursday. I’d been emailed by Tim, the organiser of Three Act Structure, saying: “We are hosting a celebration of Birmingham’s Literature at Birmingham City University School of Art, Margaret Street, Birmingham on Thursday 13th May 2010.”

I was familiar with the building, a beautiful Victorian structure with a stunning interior featuring oak panelled walls and stained glass windows but the event itself was something of a mystery for me – “The exhibition will follow a Three Act Structure with a beginning, middle and end. The focus being on the past, present and future of Birmingham’s Literature and the New Birmingham Library.”
Would it be mainly about creative writing or a celebration of an as yet un-built library?

Whatever! I always sit up and take notice when there’s anything that looks like an opportunity for networking with other writers and I was especially pleased with this next sentence as it shows that I must be on somebody’s list: “As a local author we would be delighted if you could attend to join fellow and aspiring writers for a day of mutual performance, critique and appreciation.”

“Try anything once“, is one of my mottoes, and ‘go with the flow’ is another. It always pays off in one way or another, and Thursday was no exception: lively poetry performances from a previous Birmingham Poet Laureate, Charlie Jordan, the current one, Adrian Johnson, and Matt Nunn, well known Birmingham Poet, and co-founder of Nine Arches Press.

Since this event was all about Birmingham I decided to give a brief talk about the Dangerous Sports Euthanasia Society which is set mainly in the Midlands. I’ve really enjoyed dipping in to that book again - all those characters are still very real in my head so it was nice to be able to give some of them an airing.

I’d have liked to stay for Suzanne Wright’swriting workshop, but this was my first opportunity to nip across to the Ikon Gallery, the scene of my wonderful launch of Paper Lanterns a couple of weeks ago. The Ikon Bookshop (mainly for Art books) is one of the very few Independent Bookshops in Birmingham now, and I’d promised, Eva, the manager, that I’d pop in and sign the copies of both my novels that are now on sale there.

I was back in time for the Third Act, and had a chance to give another short talk and reading to a different audience - Up till then, I’d not really taken much notice of the fact that the construction of the new Central Library has started. If I hadn’t taken part in Thursday’s event, with its inspiring presentation about the new library, I wouldn’t be feeling as excited as I am now about this project – it looks as though it really will be a fantastic facility for us all.

It’s a whole week since my book launch and I still smile with delight when I go over the events of that evening, so I’m about to indulge myself shamelessly by giving a few more details of my conversation with Clarissa about Paper Lanterns, and how my writing career has been linked to our friendship as you can also see in my profile, published last week in the Birmingham Post, and now available to read on-line

As I said last week, we’d been treated royally by the Ikon Cafe staff, and you can read here about Clarissa’s comments on the food.

Friendships forged in childhood, especially those based on shared incarceration at boarding school, can last for a lifetime, and Clarissa felt that the best way of explaining how we’d met was to read a short extract from her autobiography, Spilling The Beans.

Our lives have taken very different paths through adulthood. It’s no secret that Clarissa is a recovering alcoholic, and when her drinking was getting more and more out of hand, I was so worried about her that I wrote a short story based on this.

I entered it for a competition run by BRMB and the Birmingham Readers & Writers Festival in 1985(the forerunner of the Birmingham Book festival) and I still have the clipping from the (then) Sutton Coldfield Times with the account of my prize winning story.

That was my first ever success with my writing, and in 2005, Clarissa was there to introduce me at the Birmingham Book Festival’s launch of my first novel,The Dangerous Sports Euthanasia Society.

Neither of us could have predicted this wonderful event and the changes in both of our lives 20 years later – Clarissa was no longer drinking and had forged an amazing new career for herself in television, and I was a published novelist at last.

We talked about other events in my writing career, and the ups and downs of my attempts to get published, and then I explained the ideas, inspirations and themes that produced Paper Lanterns. This included the story of how I discovered the original letters from 1920

First I read a long letter from the married English woman, and then the one from the young Chinese woman written 4 years before that to the same man. (I’ll post that one soon, but meanwhile, here’s an extract from the English woman. As I explained during the launch last Tuesday, I brought the dates forward to 1930, and changed the setting from Canton to Hong Kong, as this is a place I know well. In my novel, I’ve kept as closely as I could to the original letters, and have invented a series of journal entries, involving a totally fictional story line for a key section of Paper Lanterns.

Thursday
Ah, Mr McFarlane, you are a disturber! What do you mean by upsetting the equilibrium of two highly respectable (!) ladies in their heretofore blissful states of married and single blessedness? And two at once, mind you! And you so young and all. The poor young idlers that we endeavour to teach to shoot must certainly not have got their money’s worth this morning and now at our first opportunity (recess) we two rush together to weep on each other’s shoulders for what we haven’t got and will never get. It’s a great bond, this being crazy about the same person. I only hope I’ll be able to preserve enough of a sense of decency from the wreck to give her the chance I wish I could take myself.

After these letters I read more extracts from the novel itself, and then went on to explain about the founding of Novel Press. I was delighted with the comments of Jonathan Davidson on the Writing West Midlands blog, where he suggests in his article “New Ways of Publishing” that:

“the means of production is moving away from being held in the hands of one conglomorate… Good writing will surface for us all to enjoy: poor writing won’t be quite so often foisted upon us in an attempt to get a return on investment or to distort our reading tastes for purely commercial gain.”

What a week this has been for me and for my latest ‘babies’: Paper Lanterns, and my publishing venture, Novel Press. On top of all this, I nearly jumped out of my skin this morning when I was leafing through today’s Birmingham Post. I was scanning for an article and a photo that I’d been informed would appear last week.

It didn’t.

Although I don’t tend to expect more than my share of luck to land on my doorstep, I have to admit that I was rather disappointed, especially as the photographer had come to take my photo the Tuesday before. ‘Oh well! Never mind,’ I thought. ‘It’s a shame, but they’ve obviously got better things to print.’

However, I never let myself be put off by low expectations , so before I went to work I stopped at the useful shop at the top of the hill. I slowly turned the pages, thinking, ‘Not likely to be in this week with all this election stuff jostling for space.’

It wasn’t in Books, Films, History, Outdoors, Motoring, or Travel. Business Briefing? Not likely! Then, over the page, under the heading, Business Profile there was my face occupying the entire page! And on the facing page, another photo and a whole long article about ME!! AUTHOR AND PUBLISHER CHRISTINE COLEMAN

But I’m running ahead of myself. This amazing double-page spread happened today, and I haven’t yet said anything about Tuesday evening at the Ikon Gallery. What a fabulous venue for my launch! This was all thanks to Sara Beadle and staff at the Birmingham Book Festival who organised the whole event, liaising with the staff at the Ikon Gallery.

They were all keen to help promote me as a local author and publisher, together with my childhood friend, Clarissa Dickson Wright who has loyally supported me in my writing endeavours (more of this in my next post)

When we arrived, Clarissa and I posed for photographs, in the Ikon Cafe and then we and my husband were treated to an excellent meal of tapas and other mouth-watering dishes. Clarissa is well known for her interest in good food, and was genuinely enthusiastic in her praise of our meal.

We were then taken up in a glass lift . Here’s the description from their website
“The dramatic second floor galleries offer 228.2m² of space and are light and airy, retaining the original arched gothic ceiling.”

The Ikon staff and volunteers had to wait till the gallery had been closed to the public before they could bring in the 90 chairs, erect the platform for me and Clarissa, arrange the copies of Paper Lanterns and my first novel, The Dangerous Sports Euthanasia Society on a table at the far end, and lay out the drinks for the audience at the other end. It was all done with amazing speed and efficiency, ready to welcome the audience at the appointed time of 6.45.

All the seats were taken and everyone in the audience was wonderfully attentive and appreciative. They laughed in the right places and I was amazed and delighted at their reactions to my readings of two of the original letters that partly inspired the novel. I’ll be writing more about this event (including book sales and Novel Press in future posts,) and about the Birmingham Post article.

In the meantime, take a look at this excellent article by Jonathan Davidson, Chief Executive of Writing West Midlands, with his hard-hitting piece ‘New ways of Publishing’

Why would anyone want to spend an hour with a self-declared ‘Foppish Buffoon’ in a darkened upstairs room in a pub in Islington on a rainy Thursday evening? Even if he is poet-in-residence on BBC Radio 4’s Saturday Live. Read on to find out why each of the 60 minutes added up to excellent value for the entrance fee.

My feelings about London are usually distinctly hostile. For me, on my frequent car journeys down to Sussex, it’s a blot on the landscape, the monster that spawned the nightmare of the M. 25. But last Thursday, on one of my occasional jaunts into its heart, I was reminded of how much I enjoy its variety, once I’m there.

As soon as I emerged from the bowels of the earth and climbed the steps to Hungerford Bridge, I breathed in the tang of the sea, the only thing I miss since moving to the Midlands. Then into the Festival Hall to meet my writer friend Crysse Morrison for a catch-up chat, lunch at Waggamamas, and a peaceful hour in the National Gallery relaxing in front of her current favourite, Seurat’s The Bathers. Like most people, I was familiar with the card-sized version of this picture, but I was stunned to see it taking up almost half the wall ( actually about 2 metres by 3). We sat for a long time, enjoying the calming scene and wondering about the lives of those boys.

The highlight of my day took place in the Red Lion in Islington, where our other writing friend, Roger Jinkinson joined us, and, best of all, my son. I had no idea what to expect of The Petty Concerns of Luke Wright, apart from this, taken from his website:

“Featuring some nipple-tweekingly awful teenage lyrics; sarcastic cricket commentators and the death of a very tight pair of jeans. Luke effortlessly mixes comedy and poetry as he tries to look past his own inflated ego and find out what really matters.”

He’s a whirlwind of energy, and I found his self-deprecating delivery hilarious and touching, both the preambles and the poems themselves. These were clearly differentiated by the use of a huge screen, letting us know that the monologue had morphed into the poem it was introducing, by the simple technique of displaying the poem’s title.

To get a feel of what the show was like, you’ll have to check out where it’s going to be performed next, and book your ticket. If you can’t do that, then buy the book. I was delighted to be able to do this, and extend my enjoyment of the evening by reading the poems on the train home.

As it says in the blurb on the cover of his book, “High Performance “ brings Luke Wright’s acerbic wit and high-energy performance style to the page, revealing the formal discipline underpinning much of his verse.

It was enlightening to see what the stream of words looked like on the page, and identify the internal and end-rhymes and half-rhymes. It confirms the importance of the visual aspect of poetry, and how this affects the way the poem works in the reader’s head, presenting more layers of meaning and understanding.

One of my favourites from the book is Family Funeral, with its precise choice of metaphors to pin down nostalgic memories and complex emotions:

“And so, as sure as seasons, they arrive -
relations last seen heavy as trifle
at some mid-childhood Sunday lunch …”

Take a look, and buy the book.

http://www.nastylittlepress.org/books/high-performance/

BEFORE YOU READ ABOUT Looping the Loop with Free Harmony, Click here for my BOOK COVER DESIGN CHALLENGE

and give yourself the chance of winning a FREE copy of Paper Lanterns(CLOSING DATE: 31st December)

I’ve just experienced the weird (but rather nice) sensation of hearing my voice coming at me from my computer screen, and suddenly I’m back in the headquarters of Radio Wildfire, being interviewed by the presenter, Dave Reeves. I’m reading an extract from The Dangerous Sports Euthanasia Society, the part where Agnes Borrowdale, (‘75 years old, a week on Tuesday’) prevents Felix from throwing himself under a high speed train on New Street Station.

I shared the ‘live’ part of the broadcast, on Monday 7th December, with Adrian Johnson, the current Birmingham Poet Laureate, but although I had the pleasure of hearing him recite his poems, I wasn’t able to listen to myself and hear how I’d have sounded to the fans of Radio Wildfire, so it was a relief to find that I didn’t make a complete prat of myself (in spite of some hesitation and stumbling over a few words.)

I’m quite used to talking about my first novel, but this was the first time I’d been interviewed about Paper Lanterns so it took a bit longer to collect my thoughts. I have to say that I was enthralled just now when I was listening to two of the real-life love letters from China in the 1920s that inspired one of the main story threads in the novel. (I’ll post more information about these letters soon.)

Meanwhile, if you want to hear more of this broadcast, it’s now available here on the Loop.

The Loop is a non stop (24/7)transmission between the live monthly broadcasts, and it’s just been updated today, 23rd December. Once you’ve got the hang of how this works, it’s very easy to follow, especially as Dave has listed what you can expect to hear on each of the 12 tracks. If you miss anything, all you need to do is wait till it comes round again – (a bit like those baggage carousels at airports when you fail to recognise your own suitcase before it’s swallowed up by those dangling bits of rubber - but waiting on Radio Wildfire is a good deal more entertaining than watching the sluggish progress of other people’s luggage!)

So here’s the programme, and it’s part of the fun to identify which track you’ve landed on. It’s all good stuff, but make sure you listen out for tracks 6 and 9!

Tracks 1-3
Adrian Johnson Birmingham Poet Laureate reads…
All the Jam
Happy Birthday Brummie Floozy
Birmingham’s What?

Tracks 4-6
Office Party Roz Goddard (live)
Thank you letter Xmas 1969 (2008) Brendan Hawthorne with Nigel Self
Christine Coleman reads from The Dangerous Sports Euthanasia Society

Tracks 7-9
Twelve Days of Christmas, a story by Susan Hulse
A Poor Man’s Excuse Dave Reeves (live)
Christine Coleman talks about her forthcoming novel, Paper Lanterns

Tracks 10-12
Adrian Johnson talking about the National Storytelling Laureate and reading the poem Deep Mercia
Christmas Do Geoff Stevens
Let Your Little Light Shine (Trad spiritual) Free Harmony*

(* I liked this so much that I ordered the CD of Free Harmony from Chris Hoskin’s website (a bargain at £8.00)

In my last post, I mentioned my delight in coming across ‘so many informative, and/or quirky, inspiring, reflective, hilarious, challenging etc etc whole new communities out there.’

One of these is Essential Writers, where you’ll find a cornucopia of posts about the experiences of other writers – something new and interesting everyday.

I was delighted when Judy invited me to be interviewed by her, and even more delighted on Wednesday when I was able to read the interview on-line . I’m now looking forward to seeing another feature of mine appear on the site on Friday next week. (It’s about what happens between having a book accepted, and the actual publication date)

Another web link that I enjoyed seeing this week, led me to Antony Gormley’s One & Other Project in Trafalgar Square, where my poet friend, Karin, was doing her bit on the Fourth Plinth. I found it unexpectedly moving – not only what she writes about her reasons for doing this, but the calm and confident way she performs the most mundane of household tasks and imbues them beauty and dignity.

I’m tempted to copy the whole text that appears underneath the video, but I’ll leave it to you to discover the pleasure of reading Karin’s words, and the poem by Tess Gallagher , called ‘I stop Writing the Poem’, which helps to convey the meaning of the whole performance.

Karin is the second of my poet friends to take to the Plinth. The first was Crysse Morrison in July. Ignore the first second of the video (the previous performer gets scooped up by the JCB before Crysse takes her place on the plinth)

My mind is now buzzing (as it has been for the last few weeks) with all aspects of the publishing business. I’d never have imagined there were so many details to investigate. It’s exhausting, but fascinating.

And what analogy pops into my head, along with this thought? Something totally different - I’ve been whisked back across more than three decades, to another unexpectedly fascinating and exhausting period of my life. Click here to see if you can make sense of the connection I’m making between motherhood and publishing!

In my last post, (see below) I mentioned that I’d been interviewed last Wednesday by Chris Morgan (the current Birmingham Poet Laureate) for his Poetry Show on Unity FM.
The time went surprisingly fast, during which Chris asked me lots of questions about my poetry and other writing. We paused in our conversation from time to time as Chris invited me to read one of my poems.

Being interviewed on the radio is a slightly unreal situation - during a ‘normal’ conversation with another individual, sitting opposite each other acoss a wide desk, it would seem a bit odd to punctuate the conversation with a poems. I felt very relaxed, but at the same time I was also aware that there could be several other people listening in. (And on the other hand, there might be no-one at all)

In a way, it felt a little like writing this blog - creating an illusion of communication with unseen readers )

I had selected several poems that I might want to read, but realised I’d probably need to make some kind of link to the latest topic of conversation, and I didn’t know in advance what questions Chris would be asking.

This Poem of The Week is one that I read during the interview - I’d been explaining why my soon-to-be-published-novel, Paper Lanterns, was set in Hong Kong, and this poem is one that I wrote after my first visit to Hong Kong with my husband and son, when my daughter was out there during her Gap year.

Snake Stall at the Night Market,Kowloon

I knew this was a language understood
by the rapt crowd of men and the man
performing and the woman holding
the bowl and knife -

not the Cantonese, rapid as gunshot
peppering shadowy figures on the pavement
nor the manic cacophony
of plastic alarm clocks from

three stalls away, nor tannoys blaring
White Christmas and voices bawling
Kalvin Klein jeans one hundred twenty dollars
and long-past-bedtime toddlers keening.

This was beyond vocabulary
an alien body language
of animal and human locked
in ritual more primitive than speech.

I’d have been swept along by the mainstream
alert for siren voices chanting silks
and watches, perfumes and leather
at must-have prices, but

my teenage son stopped
entranced. So I had to watch
as the four-foot, green and yellow snake
was gripped at the throat, its tail

pinned under the man’s boot, its belly
squeezed upwards, again and again
in the deft hand. The crowd knew
what this meant, what the man was offering

to one who was rich or brave or
foolish enough to buy what was about
to happen. All I could decipher
was the snake’s tail escaping

and the way the creature looped itself
into a knot until the man untied it
clamped the tail again, and took the knife.
I turned away, but still could hear

the many-headed monster suck its breath,
and commentary from my son’s mouth
that I would not interpret, for fear of
falling through a crack in the paving.

I wrote this poem a few years after the experience I’ve described. The incident had made a profound impression on me, but if I hadn’t made some detailed notes at the time, I would probably not have recalled it all.

I strongly recommend the use of a note book for jotting down a few words about things that you notice - however, I don’t do nearly enough of this myself!

At my money-earning job with Adult Education, I’m known by my married name, while in my alter ego as a poet and novelist, I use the name I was born with, Christine Coleman. I get a particular enjoyment from fusing the two roles, so this afternoon was especially enjoyable.

As I’ve mentioned in earlier posts, I see a strong link between my teaching and my writing (particularly teaching adult literacy - see the post ‘A Beginner reader is not a Beginner Thinker’) This afternoon I’d been invited by the tutor, Jan Watts, to help launch the little book that she’d helped the creative writing group to produce : ‘A little Book of Smells.’ This very evocative sense was stimulated on every page and it was lovely to hear the proud authors reading some of their own pieces. The high standard of their delivery was a tribute Jan’s drama background.

The group meets once a month at Erdington library, and in my then role as manager of the nearby Osborne A.E. Centre, I had set up this class several years ago. It was a joy to be back there, sharing the ‘Visiting Professional Writer’ role with Chris Morgan, Birmingham’s current Poet Laureate.

The group were keenly interested in what Chris Morgan and I had to say about our own writing practices. This is one of the reasons why I started this blog: Writing Matters - so many people enjoy writing and are fascinated by the varied experiences of others, particularly those who’ve progressed a little further along the journey.

While answering questions from the group, I was suddenly struck by a thought which I’d never articultated before in quite this way: one of the things I love about writing is that I’m always learning. If I ever I lose that joy in learning, I’ll stop writing!

When I was asked which I preferred, writing fiction or poetry, I couldn’t give a definte answer, though I’ll explore that question in more detail later.

Right now, I know I want to continue writing about the events leading to the publication of The Dangerous Sports Euthanasia Society. In my last post, I’d just finished a wonderful writing course on the Greek island of Kithera that was in May 2002 and I’ve not mentioned my poetry career, since the first performance of my poetry group, Late Shift, at Ledbury in 1998? or was it 99?