Leon Russell Brings Me Home

"...oh, when I'm home again in England and I'm thinking of you..."

Tuesday night I went to a lifesaver of a concert. It's been a bit stressful chez Guiney lately and Tuesday was particularly bad. But the day ended, the evening began and I found myself in the audience watching Leon Russell come onstage to the opening bars of Delta Lady and that lyric above which has haunted me since my college days, even before I had ever been here.  Leon Russell was one of my first big rock n roll addictions. While everyone else was listening to the Grateful Dead, I was listening to Leon. Even now, when I head over to Martha's Vineyard for the summer, which I'm doing next week, one of the first things I do is put Leon Russell on the stereo (or the 21st Century equivalent) and sing at the top of my lungs -- don't worry, I get it out of my system before the rest of the family arrives. But I tell you, there has always been for me something about the gravel in his voice, the amazingly unique honky tonk of his keyboards, his lyrics that say so much more than they seem to.......

I first saw him in 1973. He looked ancient then, but probably because then, as now, his face was  hidden beneath a cowboy hat, long white hair and a long beard. Last night he still looked the same, like Methuselah, only now he walked slowly and with the aid of a cane. But once he sat down at the keyboard... He sang lots of old favourites like "Hummingbird," "Prince of Peace" and "Song for You." But he also played songs from Dylan, Rolling Stones, the Beatles and of course, Joe Cocker.

So why am I going on like this? Well, it's a bit spiritual, innit. On a day when nothing much made sense, one aging rocker from Tulsa, Oklahoma, who happened to have lived in England once upon a time ago, who happened to have written some of the songs I have loved the most my whole life long, sat a few meters away from me, just when I needed him, and as if ushering me into the summer, brought me home to myself. The universe does provide.

In the Papers Again

A quickie today, but I suppose one jpeg says it all. Hope you can read it. If not, you'll find the article here.  And then, if your curiosity is piqued and you missed the previous post, you can read some of the kids' latest work here.

How To REALLY Sell Books

On-line sites - sure.
Blogging friends - thank God.
Bookstores - don't hold your breath.
Emailing updates to everyone you have ever met - but how many people have you ever met?

No, I do believe that for all of us writers out there with books to sell -- and yes, probably even for those famous enough to have their pictures hanging off the sides of buses and on Tube and Subway posters -- the best way, the only sure-fire way to sell books is by public appearances.  Let's face it. We writers are the new rock stars, only without the drugs, and the sex, and the groupies - though we do occasionally get some cheap red wine in a plastic cup. In the way rock stars do concerts in order to sell records (I know I'm showing my technological age here), writers do appearances to sell books.  Actually, that's being a bit too cheeky. It's not that one is solely for the purpose of the other. I actually love doing readings and signings and workshops and book talks. I have even come to the realization that if I was the sort of Emily Dickenson-type writer who sat in her house and wrote all day but never met her readers, I probably wouldn't be a publishing writer at all.  The two feed each other for me.

But it is true that when I am out in the public, I sell books. When I stay at home, I don't (or at least not nearly as many). The equation is quite simple, really, and I do believe it is true for most of us. But that also means that it is not enough for a writer "just" to write these days. Today's writer must also be a Project Manager.  I have written about how to plan a book tour here. But I think it's worth reiterating and looking at in another way. The administrative tasks associated with the planning of events is one thing. There are also other crucial steps that need to be considered as well. Once you have the event date set -- whether it is a public reading, a private book discussion group, a bookshop signing, a launch (and this goes for fiction and poetry and non-poetry alike) there is still more to be done:
    You are the Publicist: contact all the local newspapers, magazines, radio and tv stations you can to get local publicity
     You are the Party Planner: make sure the books are there to be sold, there is a cash float so you can make change, order the drinks and get the cups and if there's also food, get that plus napkins, plates etc. Get there early enough to set up the chairs and tables.
    You are the Technology Consultant: arrange for and be there to set up and test whatever equipment you need, ie microphone, overhead projector and screen, video or audio equipment
    You are the Performer: Take time out a few hours before the event to make sure you know what you are going to say and how. Practice it several times, whether you have done your talk a dozen times before or not. Decide what you are going to wear -- yes, this matters. It doesn't mean you have to be dressed up, just appropriate and professional. And do whatever pre-performance rituals you need to do.  Don't kid yourself. Any public appearance IS a performance, whether we like it or not. You can't engage an audience if they can't hear you. If they don't think you know what you are doing on stage (or behind a table or in a chair in front of them), they are less likely to believe that you know what you're doing on the page.
    You are the Secretary: after the event, go through your lists and note any new people you have met, update your contacts. Sometimes you will also need to write thank you's and follow-ups.
   and finally - You are the Writer: amid all this, don't forget to keep making progress on your next book.
    So why am I talking about all this now? For several reasons. First, it is a topic of conversation that has come up over and over lately. Based on these talks with people in the industry, this all really seems to be true for all publishing writers, whether you are being published by your best friend's mother next door, or by a multi-national global corporation. From what I have been told by booksellers and pr people around the world, it is often (though thankfully not always) the case that the bigger the publisher, the less promotion they do. Again, it all falls into the lap of the writer. By all means, get whatever help you can with any of this, but ultimately we must all know that it is really our own responsibility and no one else's. In some ways, that is very good news for writers. Our destinies are much more in our own hands. But, man -- it's a lot of work.
    Second, as a writer and someone who better understands what she's thinking when it's written down, I needed to step back for a minute and think this all through. As many of you know, I am in the amazing position of having two books to promote at once, while writing my third novel at the same time. Is this what I really want to be doing with my life? All jobs carry stress, I know. But is this the sort of stress I want my little shoulders to carry? Happily, yes. I love what I do. I love creating worlds in my head and trying to express them with this incredible English language of ours. Plus, I love meeting people, sharing ideas, spreading the creativity. I wouldn't have it any other way -- which is a good thing since I am presently trying to promote my work on three continents.
    And third, because tomorrow I'm appearing at another event in London, reading from both my novel, A Clash of Innocents, and my poetry collection, Her Life Collected. If you're free and in the area, do come by. There will be cheap wine in plastic cups. And there will be books to buy!
     Friday Night Writers Series
    Swiss Cottage Library, 88 Avenue Road ( 2 minute walk from Swiss Cottage Tube)
    6 pm - 8 pm
    Admission free.  There will also be an Open Mic, so if you are a writer, you can bring something to read. Or if not, just come and listen.

Instead of a tie this time....

How about doing this for Father's Day?






Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there -- but especially to mine!

Anjali House Writing Workshop: Issue 2

This tiny photo is a picture of me working with the young adults of Anjali House back in March when I was there in Siem Reap setting up the Writing Workshop. Careful readers of this blog may remember that at that time we published the first issue of the kids' new literary magazine which they have titled: Wonderful Writing: Imagination is the Best Power.
    This week was phase two of the project, the experimental phase which I'm referring to as the "Distance Learning" segment of the workshop. A few weeks ago I wrote up a lesson plan which I sent back to Richard, the Director of Anjali House's Young Adult Program. In it I reminded them of the structure of the week's classes and the approach to learning which we have developed, namely one of encouragement, openness, flexibility and fun. The idea was to spend a day reminding the kids about the elements of writing both poems and stories, then have them write first as a group and then individually. I also sent over some photos of London life to use as a prompt.  My idea with that was to help them think outside of their immediate surroundings, to open their eyes to lives lived across the planet and to try to apply all that to their creativity at home. Richard and Rhonda, another important part of Anjali House's growing team of volunteers, then spent a week working with the kids. As new pieces were written, they were downloaded onto a password-encrypted forum via the rickety old unreliable Anjali House computer (hint hint: if anyone has a decent computer they would like to donate, let me know :-) ). I then read the pieces, made my editorial comments and wrote individual notes of encouragement to each student. The kids used these comments to edit their pieces, accepting my suggestions or not as they saw fit. As I told them, their work is their own and the final decision about any possible edit comes from them. They're the bosses! And the result? Another amazing new issue of their magazine, full of poems and stories and photographs -- all the result of the creativity and fearlessness of these wonderful kids. Here's one example:
                                          The Life of Musicians
By: Pech, Rattana, Moni and Vireak

In the winter a group of 4 musicians are playing music to make money. They learned to play at school and they stayed friends. Sometimes they play music which makes the people happy and they will throw money into the box. The group of musicians hope people will give them money every day. The musicians need to buy food, clothes, things for their instruments.
Some people don’t look at the musicians and that makes them sad. Sometimes that makes them not want to be musicians anymore. When people look down on them they play the music very quietly and it sounds lonely. They want to find new jobs, but their skill is music and they really love music because music is their life.
Once When they were playing a rich man came and said to them: “Stop! I don’t want to hear your noise! Go away. Don’t play here anymore. If you play here, I will tell my servant to come and give you a black eye!”  They packed up their instruments and they walked tired and hungry to the market. They started to play near the place that sold souvenirs. They started to play their music. A fat man got out of his silver Lexus. He heard lovely music and it made him feel very interested. He looked at them and the music told this man about their lives. He talked to them: ‘Your music is very lovely. I want to take you to my restaurant to play for my guests. I will give you a salary’. The musicians were very happy and they said: ‘Thank you, you are a very good person. You do not look down on us and you help us a lot.’ They now know they will have enough money for their families.

-----------------------

And here's a poem:

                             The Farmer’s Life in the Countryside
By: Sopheak, Sandi, Seut, Samphors, Chanroat and Kimlong

Fresh air
Green
Rice field
Cattle eating grass
A buffalo laughs
Ohohohohohoh

Farmers planting
                 Rice
                 Vegetables
                 Fruits

A cow eats grass
The farmer’s working hard
Everyone’s busy
But I’m relaxed
After working

---------------------------------


We have all now agreed that the experimental stage of our workshop has been a success. With some minor logistical tweaks, we can now look forward to several Distance Learning Workshops each year which will give the kids the continuity they need to really enhance their education and build up their self-esteem. And then once a year, I'll be there to reinforce it all. That's the rich and creamy icing on my cake! And who knows....maybe some day we'll be able to expand the program so more writers can go see for themselves what it is like to work with these kids. I can't tell you how privileged I feel to be able to be a part of all this.

 

Kelley Swain talks about "Affiliated Creatives"

My friend, Kelley Swain, is a talented poet and freelance writer, and a fascinating person to hang around. We try to meet every few months to discuss our work and something interesting always come up. She's full of ideas and new perspectives, and I wanted you to meet her. Her focus is creative approaches to the history of science, and her first book, the poetry collection called Darwin's Microscope ,was published by Flambard Press in 2009. She is a Fellow of the Linnean Society of London and a Contributing Writer to New Scientist. You can read more about her work here.

I've asked Kelley to come to my blog to talk about the role of Writer-in-Residence. She holds that position at The Whipple Museum, Cambridge, and her understanding of how you can make it happen, the pros and cons of it, are unique and important. It is actually because of her experiences that I decided to try to become a Writer-in-Residence myself, and I'm thrilled to say that I have just been appointed to that post in the SE Asia Department of The University of London's School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS). Here she is making her case for what she calls "Affiliated Creatives".

Though the experience of every Writer-in-Residence is sure to be unique, I discovered, upon setting up my own residency, that there are generally two kinds. In both cases, ideally, a Residency is a symbiotic relationship where both host institution and writer-guest gain equally from the experience.
The obvious kinds are Residencies which are planned and funded by the host institution. They are advertised, they are extremely competitive, and they often select either competition winners or ‘established’ writers. These positions are valuable for the writer, who gains a ‘home,’ an affiliation, and a salary for a set time. These posts also do a great deal towards encouraging writers to interact with the public. Just a few Residencies which fall into this category include the Wordsworth Trust Poet in Residence, The Whitechapel Gallery Writer in Residence and even, one might argue, the Oxford Professor of Poetry position. But I want to discuss the second kind of Residency, one that I have begun to think of as more of an affiliation, and of the recipient as an ‘Affiliated Creative’. This could be applied to any artist, not only writers.
    In 2009 I was introduced to the Curator of the Whipple Museum of the History of Science, part of the Department of the History and Philosophy of Science at the University of Cambridge. I proposed a residency that was in line with a document published by the Arts Council England in 2003. I had read this closely, and it was the only document published by ACE which was relevant to what I wanted to do, which was to apply for funds jointly with the Whipple Museum, enough to provide me with a part-time salary, so I could actively be in residence for two to three days per week in the Museum over the course of a year. The Whipple Curator, Liba, was very supportive of this proposal, but when I went to ACE with some questions, no one I spoke to was familiar with the publication, and they said that because Cambridge was already such a busy city, artistically and culturally, I would be unlikely to get funding.
   Liba and I went back to square one, and we sought, and gained, two much smaller ‘pots’ of funding – she secured funds from an anonymous donor who had given to the Museum previously, and I gained a small grant from the British Society for Literature and Science. These funds enabled us to run four very successful events over the course of the year, events for which my transport (from my home in London) was covered, as well as my meals when I was at Cambridge. A generous friend let me stay in her guest room, and I was able to become the Whipple Museum, Cambridge, Writer-in-Residence. I continue to run events for the Whipple Museum; for now, my Residency has no specific end-date, but events are planned one after another, as we get funds, so it does lack certainty. For our next event, I’m going to run a writing workshop with Laura Dietz, Senior Lecturer in Creative Writing Anglia Ruskin for the Cambridge Festival of Ideas in October, which I’m very excited about.
  One challenge I’ve grappled with throughout the Residency is the age-old question of getting paid. Because we set up the residency with the understanding that funds would always have to come from external sources, sourcing those funds has always been a question. I am certain that we’ve gained what funds we have because we applied for them jointly. Those first small ‘pots’ of money allowed us to set up our first series of events at the Whipple. After that, with a letter of support from Liba, I applied for and secured an Arts Council England Grant towards my next year of activities as Writer-in-Residence. This time around, I was able to cover expenses and get paid for each event.  I believe it was essential to show ACE a successful track record before I applied for funds: a matter of, ‘See what I can do? And if you support me, I can do even more’.
    One rule for a Residency is that it should never cost you money. It seems obvious, but it can be very tempting, as a writer who wants to become established, or known, or ‘get out there,’ to say, ‘don’t worry, I’ll do it anyway’. Of course I’ve paid for my own rail fare for events in the past – but I think it’s very important to put a value on our work, and it’s something to build up to. The affiliation with Cambridge has encouraged invitations for me to run workshops and give readings elsewhere, and I’ve charged the rates recommended by the Society of Authors, and asked for transport cover. I’ve also been flexible with fees when it comes to speaking at schools, for example, if their budgets are small. I feel it is fair to build this up incrementally – to earn it as you continue to publish, establish your area of expertise, and gain experience.
    Two lovely ladies whom you’ll be familiar with, Sue Guiney, my host today, and Tania Hershman, came to hear me speak at the Royal Observatory Greenwich because, at the time, Tania was interested in how I became Writer-in-Residence at the Whipple. I encouraged her to set up something like it, and she has done so with great success. Now Sue is doing the same.
    Becoming a Writer-in-Residence, or an Affiliated Creative (which to me is a more accurate description of what I am, as I’m rarely actually in residence, and as I don’t usually get paid for my activities at the Whipple,) is up to the writer: treat it like a job interview, go in with ideas, enthusiasm, and your credentials. Be flexible. Find a Museum, or a University Department, or even a shop or café. Most importantly, find the right person to support your role: someone enthusiastic, who will value you and make use of you as their Writer. This is a way for us to find ‘homes,’ gain an affiliation, and gain valuable experience.

Thank you, Kelley, for opening our eyes to this idea and helping us see how well it can work. And best of luck with all your projects.

 

Introducing The Waste Land

Some people can't stand TS Eliot. Some find him obtuse and elitist -- and this is an argument that still surrounds poetry today, and I don't mean just about Eliot. Read the latest tempest in a teacup here. But despite all that, I have always loved Eliot. The first poem that I ever took to heart was his Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. But my favourite has always been The Waste Land. Yes, it is difficult. Yes, it relies on all sorts of allusions that we may not immediately grasp. But the language! The sentiment! The Waste Land is a difficult poem, but it is a difficult poem which refuses to push you away. It draws you in line after line and makes you feel as if you are a better and certainly more accomplished person for having stayed with it. So imagine my excitement this week when I discovered that Faber will soon be bringing out a Waste Land Ipad App! The text will be there, I believe, but so will Eliot himself in readings that had been buried in Faber's archives. And one of my favourite actresses, Fiona Shaw, will be there too, reminding us of the amazing rendition she did of the poem several years ago here in London. She created a one-woman dramatization of it which was phenomenal. I was lucky enough to see it, and now I'll be able to relive parts of it on my Ipad.

I know I'm going crazy with the superlatives, but I am truly excited about this. Not only will it bring this masterpiece to life for a new audience, but it will also use it to create a new sort of a book. The app is a fascinating way to link the written word with video and audio and interaction. If this is part of the future of publishing, then I'm not quite so scared.  You can learn about it and see the promotional video here.

What Price Poetry?

There was a lot to choose from Friday night in London, if you are a writer and/or reader of poetry.  One of the wonders and surprises of London's arts scene is the very large role that poetry plays in it. On any given night you can find a reading, an open mic, a performance, a workshop. And so you have to ask, if poetry is dying in our society and not worth the cost of life support, then who are all these people and what are they doing with their time when they could be at home watching the public get bamboozled on The X Factor ( but that's a separate issue)?

On Friday night I chose to be one of about 300 (I'm guessing) at a reading in support of PBS, The Poetry Book Society, which was founded in 1953 by TS Eliot as a sort of poetry book club, and which has been going strong ever since until the Arts Council decided to cut its funding. Our Poet Laureate, Carol Ann Duffy, put together a Who's Who of an evening, half funeral half celebration, and I decided to spend my Friday evening there for several reasons, not all  having to do with anger against the government. There have been many blogs and articles in the paper expressing outrage at how the government is cutting the legs out form under Britain's poetry scene. PBS is just one victim. There are many others, including poetry festivals like Aldeburgh and poetry publishers like Salt, Enitharmon and Flambard. There have also been people writing the other side of the story, such as poet Todd Swift whose excellent blog Eyewear points out that perhaps we shouldn't complain about poetry cuts until we have found the money to fully fund universities and the NHS. To me, both points of view have their merit. Plus, I am also enough involved with Britain's theatre scene to realize that our sinking ship is quite large and full of drowning people. The theatre world has certainly suffered just as much under the government's heavy axe as the literary one. 

To be honest, I have always been very wary of the arts relying too heavily on government support. Yes, it is nice when the cheque arrives and it is solely for the purpose that you want it to be. But as they say back home, there's no such thing as a free lunch, and I have always been suspicious enough of politicians and their motivations not to want to get too comfy with them. I certainly would never want to have any organization that I care about depend so exclusively on government aid that it might sink without it. I would never want any government to be looking that closely at what art I produce and how I produce it. Nothing but trouble can come of that, just as the photographer Robert Mapplethorpe discovered in the US in 1990 when the National Endowment for the Arts withdrew support from his exhibit because they didn't like his images. And so we are seeing it here in Britain now. The verbiage may be different, but the effect is the same.

So why did I go to Friday evening's event? Several reasons. One, I like a good show and this was certainly going to be one. Two, because a friend of mine quipped, when she read that the evening would showcase 30 of our most famous poets, "Do we have 30 famous poets?" I wanted to see who was on the list and assure myself that a list did exist - whether I agreed with its contents or not. But more than that, I went because I am a poet, a British poet, and I wanted to see for myself how many of us were there, how many of us (understanding of course that this was only out of the London population of poets and people have busy lives and other time commitments) actually care enough to show up. If we don't show up and speak out and make our opinions heard outside beyond the comfort of our own little offices and writing nooks, then how can we ask anyone else to care? So I went because I believe in the importance of poetry to our culture. I may not believe that we deserve funding any more than any of the other squillion institutions who have also been cut. But I believe that as poets we need to use our voices to remind the greater population that we are still here, working away, exposing our hearts through language, and that we are necessary, whether some politician reads our work or not. Poetry matters. Poetry is one of the few things in this life that really is priceless.

Wedding Blogsplash

Fiona Robyn is a writer I have been following for years. Her work and her spirit is unique, and in a few weeks she will be getting married. In a typically generous way, she and her husband-to-be, Kaspa, want to share it with all of us out here in the blogosphere, and so they have taken over my blog for today. They are both on a mission to help the world connect with the world through writing and for their fantasy wedding present, they are asking people across the world to write them a ‘small stone’ and post it on their blogs or on Facebook or Twitter.

A small stone is a short piece of observational writing – simply pay attention to something properly and then write it down. Find out more about small stones here.

Here is their message to us all and you can watch their short video here. Now, over to Fiona and Kaspa:

If you’re willing to help, we’d love you to do two things:

1) Re-post this blog on your own blog any time before June the 18th and give your readers a chance to hear about what we’re doing. You can simply copy and paste the text, or you can find the html here.

2) Write us a small stone on our wedding day whilst we’re saying our vows and eating cake, post it on your blog, and send it to us.

You can find out more about our project at our website, Wedding Small Stones, and you can also read our blog at A River of Stones.

We also have a July challenge coming soon, when we’ll be challenging you to notice one thing every day during July and write it down.

Thank you for listening, and we hope we’ll be returning from our honeymoon to an in-box crammed with small stones, including yours.

Kaspa & Fiona