Saturday, 18 August 2018

My first public exhibition of my writing and a little background.




Insomnia?

No - just the frozen shoulder ...

A) Preamble - It's just after 2 a.m. and I am typing again on the blog - when you cannot sleep for pain - you either lie there changing position over and over - or you come down, have tea and toast and type (which actually does not feel too good for the left arm either). The cat keeps me company on the settee (I'm actually not in bed as the clipart suggests) - he and I have a good understanding. He's the same sort of age as me (in cat years that is) - luckily in better health than me although he shares the same attributes - in fact his stomach hangs down not far above the ground as he walks along - at least mine hardly notices - unless you are an intimate person in my life and really know its expanse - oh dear too much information again ...

OK here goes - into the dangerous zone of reality - I am about to talk about real people and real events and real experiences (that of course is real experiences as in my take on them). I have to say that as no doubt others will see things differently and maybe eventually these "others" will take exception. I'll try to be very careful and not libel anyone...

Some months ago I attended (in my real name - not my pen name used on this blog and in my writing generally) a writing group in Louth - Lincolnshire. I won't go into detail here and now (in this paragraph) but I am going to put a follow-on post below (same post with same title but a separate section below) that gives a sort of account of the group and the written piece "Hats" - a piece of flash fiction (which I thought and a few others thought quite good).

So to be clear:

A) You have this preamble (above).
B) You have a copy of an account of what led to this particular piece of written work.
C) You have the work in it's raw form.
D) You have a slightly tidied-up (final?) version of that work (just over 400 words - so to me that's flash fiction).

B) Starting with the word Background ... The account of what led to the particular piece of writing (don't be put off by any strange formatting or apparently botched layout or entries - it is because the item was pasted from WORD and some weird stuff crept in - sorry.


Background:
Louth Poetry Group (which now also includes creative writing) has (as at March 2018) twice weekly café style meetings (bacon rolls or croissants & fresh percolated coffee available) that typically run from 09.00 until 12 noon and have a section when the leader asks what we’ve been up to writing-wise, followed by say a 45 minute writing session which is then, in turn, read out and peer-reviewed. Sometimes the writing section is themed but mostly not – i.e. free choice of subject matter. The group also has monthly workshops and seasonal ‘readings’ (evenings). Their website (click the link above) has full details. The man running it, Christopher Sanderson is a richly accented Yorkshireman (whom I found audibly attractive, not despite of, but because of, his perpetual dropping of Hs). In my assessment he was and is an accomplished and prolific poet – not sure if published though. His partner, Kate Harrison, a former nurse, also writes, but quantitively less so and she is also a humanist celebrant.
I had been attending for about 2/3 months and on the whole enjoyed it a lot but I got the impression that the people running it didn't like me, especially the the leader's partner (but that seemed to start after I did a visual art performance comparing two music items including Sting and Every Breath You Take - which had lyrics that she saw as being about stalking and which had never previously occured to me). I think that ‘highbrow people’ (and I believe they think that they are) sometimes think that anyone who acts ‘above their station’ should be shunned and I think they think that I act above my station. Over the few months I had been with them I gained/learned all of the following and more:
o   A strong belief in my own ability to write good fiction.
o   That I work at my best under pressure when writing live in ‘class’.
o   A realisation that poetry is something I really struggle with writing and also to understand the breadth and scope of it.
o   That sometimes my flash fiction (very short stories) that are written in class live and timed are so good that the two key people don’t actually believe that I did it in class (as I have mostly used a laptop) and may not even believe that the work is my own. (If one thought that - that might indeed be a reason not to like me... or was a little jealousy afoot maybe?) Christopher had at least twice asked me the strange question “did you just write that [xxxx] or was it written earlier?” It’s not easy actually to categorically prove that my work was “fresh” and why should one have to? I wondered about screen-prints of the file properties which show date and time but why should one and how sad are they to think me or anyone at a writers’ group capable of such ridiculous subterfuge!
o   I have witnessed jealousy many times before during my life and because I have never suffered from ‘the disease’ myself I often seek excuses for such alien behaviour by others, thinking such nastiness cannot be what it often turns out to be - i.e. real (when eventually one is left with no other conclusion to draw). My time at a previous local writers’ group illustrated the same behaviours when I was effectively bullied by that male leader - illustrated by him constantly saying in public “no non-reader will ever make a writer”. This ridicule almost destroyed my self confidence at the time which thankfully I have fully rebuilt.


I know I can write [prose at least]. All I need to do is do it and get published – but I don’t have much time left and I am not very disciplined.


C) - The first (in class live version of Hats back in March 2018):

Hats
I remember that flight – June 1st 1975, Jane daydreamed...
“Taxi to right 90 Pan Am 365”
“Right 90, taxiing now”.
“Hold at runway 07 – expected 2 minutes”
We looked out into the darkness of the Sicilian sky as the engines idled briefly.
“Half throttle Frank”.
“Pan Am 365 – you are cleared for immediate take off.”
“You have it Frank – all yours”.
The four Rolls Royce Jupiter engines roared and the 737 shuddered from a standing start to a hundred MPH, then one fifty, two hundred and lift-off into the shimmering redness reflected off Etna in the distance. The crew still seated and belted watched the angle of the aircraft steepen as it climbed through the mist.
Sylvie’s attention was taken by a man three seats down on the right aisle. He’d obviously taken his seat belt off. He stood up awkwardly a lone figure amongst an orderly flight complement of 160 souls.
“Sir, return to your seat immediately please and fasten your seat belt.”
He took no damn notice so Sylvie unbuckled her seat belt and launched herself towards him. He had opened the locker and drew out a plastic bag.
“Jesus Sylvie – has he got...”
This was Jane, the other rear crew girl thinking the unthinkable: did this man have a gun in that plastic bag?
Sylvie grabbed his arm and gestured that he should be seated. He complied, still clutching the bag. He stood up again reached into the bag and pulled out a bundle of paper hats and threw them out to the people now looking tense, with one elderly bespectacled lady looking ashen-faced.
“Come on guys – put ‘em on for Godsakes – doesn’t anybody know it’s Christmas and party time!”
Nervously two young men slipped on their paper hats, then a girl three seats up did the same.
Slowly, never taking her eyes off the man, Sylvie and then Jane put paper hats on as the plane levelled out and the seat belt sign went off.
Deep sighs could be heard along the aisles as heads turned.
“Sorry guys – did I frighten somebody?”
Raymond Ellis was 24 years old, from Allentown, Pennsylvania (same town as Billy Joel) and he was returning home from his first trip abroad ever. He’d been to the old country to see his long lost Italian Mafiosi as he always called his distant cousins. He had been diagnosed with terminal cancer two months earlier and he had completed stage one of his bucket list.






Ignore my [class] notes below:

Uncle Bulgaria hat??
Theme next time: weather whether – for Thursday April 5th.
Good Friday for Spring Solstice thing 19.30
 ........................................................................................................................................


D) Tidied-up version (that hopefully will eventually turn up in my published anthology):




Hats
I remember that flight – June 1st 1975, Jane daydreamed...
“Taxi to right nine zero Pan Am 365.”
“Right nine zero, taxiing now.”
“Hold at runway zero seven – expected two minutes.”
We looked out into the darkness of the Sicilian sky as the engines idled briefly.
“Half throttle Frank.”
“Pan Am 365 – you are cleared for immediate take off.”
“You have it Frank – all yours.”
The four Rolls Royce Jupiter engines roared and the 737 shuddered from a standing start to a hundred MPH, then one fifty, two hundred and lift-off into the shimmering redness reflected off Etna in the distance. The crew still seated and belted watched the angle of the aircraft steepen as it climbed through the mist.
Sylvie’s attention was taken by a man three seats down on the right of the aisle. He’d obviously taken his seat belt off. He stood up awkwardly a lone figure amongst an orderly seated flight complement of 160 souls.
“Sir, return to your seat immediately please and fasten your seat belt.”
He took no damn notice so Sylvie unbuckled her seat belt and launched herself towards him. He had opened the locker and drew out a plastic bag.
“Jesus Sylvie – has he got ...”
This was Jane, the other rear crew girl thinking the unthinkable: did this man have a gun in that plastic bag?
Sylvie grabbed his arm and gestured that he should be seated. He complied, still clutching the bag. He stood up again reached into the bag and pulled out a bundle of paper hats and threw them out to the people now looking tense, with one elderly bespectacled lady looking ashen-faced.
“Come on guys – put ‘em on for Godsakes – doesn’t anybody know it’s Christmas and party time!”
Nervously two young men slipped on their paper hats, then a girl three seats up did the same.
Slowly, never taking her eyes off the man, Sylvie and then Jane put paper hats on as the plane levelled out and the seat belt sign went off.
Deep sighs could be heard along the aisles as heads turned.
“Sorry guys – did I frighten somebody?”
Raymond Ellis was 24 years old, from Allentown, Pennsylvania (same town as Billy Joel) and he was returning home from his first trip abroad ever. He’d been to the old country to see his long-lost Italian Mafiosi as he always called his distant cousins. He had been diagnosed with terminal cancer two months earlier and he had completed stage one of his bucket list.


(415 words including title Hats – originated in March 2018 and placed on blog in August 2018.)
 

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