Drawing attention to poetry

Adding further weight to the argument that Corby is the go-to place around here for unexpected arts events, I was at the town's theatre last night, The Core at Corby Cube, for an event organised by the Northamptonshire Children's Book Group, a branch of the Federation of Children's Book Groups*.

Author and illustrator Chris Riddell, former Children's Laureate, was in town promoting his new anthology, Poems to Fall in Love With. He was already in situ as the audience rolled in, sitting behind a desk sketching, with the images being presented on to a screen. Also on stage were our readers for the evening: local actors Will and Sue, and Elaine, a student from one of the town's senior schools.

It was an interesting format. Chris chatted amiably about the poems and then as one of the readers stepped forward he sketched an appropriate illustration, live, right there, before your very eyes, replicating the fabulous images that accompany the poems in the book. Several lucky people went home with one of the pictures.

The book is beautiful inside and out, with a cover that just makes you want to stroke it and a broad selection of poems ranging from Kate Tempest to Sylvia Plath, Leonard Cohen to William Blake, and all points in between.

It was a great evening and Chris was generous with his time as we queued up to get our copies of his book signed. I know from speaking to the organiser that he'd had a pretty full-on day, but you wouldn't have known it from the way he engaged particularly with the youngsters, posing for selfies and chatting as though he had all the time in the world. What a nice man.

* Check out this organisation if you have any interest at all in children's literature - and who doesn't?

Saving the world, one piece of cheese at a time

I've just caught myself washing the wrapper from a Dairylea Triangle, so I can put the paper label and the foil into separate recycling bins. Have I gone too far?

Since I've become involved with Extinction Rebellion, environmental issues have started to become a bit of a 'thing'. I'm taking my own mug everywhere, I'm saving the inner bag from my cereals to use for my packed lunch and I'm making Ecobricks like a demon. Some changes are easy; I gave up Clingfilm ages ago and it's been no bother to revert to loose tea rather than teabags.

Other things are much harder. I'm not ready to give up my car, for instance, even though we have two and I work from home, so with a little bit of planning we could probably manage with one. I have tried to use the bus, but it tends not to turn up, which is annoying, and while I'd love to travel by train it is prohibitively expensive. I've just checked, and a single ticket from Kettering to London for this morning would cost £64.50. It's about 80 miles and my car does 45mpg. No contest.

Tomorrow, though, I shall be out on the streets waving my banner in support of the Global Climate Strike. Will you?

County matters

The Raunds Ukulele Orchestra, of which I'm pleased to be a member, was invited to play at the Dean and Shelton Country Show on Saturday. It was a splendid affair, with a fine display of lawnmowers and tractors, stalls and sideshows, hog roast and a tea tent. I was pleased to see that refreshments were served in proper cups and on proper plates, with bamboo cutlery: no plastic in sight.

A particular highlight for me was a demonstration of a sheepdog herding ducks. I was too enthralled to take any pics, so you'll just have to trust me when I say it was extraordinary. The countryside is a very strange place. There was also, of course, a flower and produce competition - the photo shows the entries in the category of 'Heaviest Vegetable'.

And talking of competitions...

The closing date for the Moulton Literary Festival Short Story Competition has been extended to 26 October. Does this mean there haven't been many entries? You could be in with a chance. Details are here. Full disclosure: I'm the judge!

Are you lost in Austen?

The real Sanditon - image from breansandscaravans.com

Are you all watching Sanditon, then?

I like Jane Austen's books, but I wouldn't say I was a fan as such. I read Pride & Prejudice at school because I had to, and similarly Mansfield Park was one of my OU degree set books. I've read the others, too, and also the recent reworkings by Val McDermid and Joanna Trollope, and watched the various TV and film adaptations, though more because I felt I ought to than because I particularly wanted to (Colin Firth notwithstanding).

All this to say, I'm not offended by the prospect of Andrew 'Randy Andy' Davies turning Jane Austen's 24,000-word first draft of a few chapters into an eight-part series.  I watched the first episode having told myself it was 'based on an idea by' rather than an adaptation. Given Davies' past record and having heard him interviewed on the radio, I psyched myself up for Fifty Shades of Austen.

It speaks volumes that I'd forgotten it was on again last night. The problem for me was that it felt as though AD had gone through a Pick 'n' Mix of characters from all JA's books and come up with a perfect set of grumpy dowager who has a guarded interested in our feisty heroine, a well-meaning but deluded male lead and his long-suffering wife, a louche brother, a simple brother, a scheming woman after the dowager's fortune, and a few 18th-century caricatures thrown in for good measure. Sorry, but I thought it was all a bit so-what.

I also thought the CGI was rahter in your face. You can 'see the joins', as it were.

But what do I know. Sanditon will probably run into several series and win loads of awards, not least for Anne Reid who will win the prize for 'Best Actress Who Is Slowly Turning Into Maggie Smith'.

Mood swings

Writing: it's a funny old game. One day you're riding high because ideas are abundant and the words are flowing; the next day, you take someone's casual remark as a sign that your work is hopeless.

On Tuesday, while loitering in the Doldrums, I decided that if A Sparge Bag on the Washing Line  doesn't sell well I shall never write again. By Wednesday, I'd perked up again and I wrote a rather fine short story, if I do say so myself. I was also invited to submit two poems to an anthology being produced by a local writing group. Then yesterday, I heard I'm on the short list for the Writers Bureau Poetry Competition and I was approached to do some creative writing workshops. Today, Friday, I still have the wind in my sales.

If you're looking for inspiration, take a look at The Ruth Rendell Short Story Competition here. At £15 entry fee, it's a bit on the steep side, but it's for a good cause. The word limit is 1,000 and the prize is £1,000, which is a good per-word rate. The winner will be commissioned to write four more stories; I don't know if there's a further fee payable for this. I do, though, know someone who was runner-up one year; apparently, the awards evening is rather splendid. As always, make sure you read the rules and all the Ts&Cs.

Touching base

Pumpkin!

One of the magazines I work for is to cease paper publication at the end of the year and become online only and, most significant for me, will be produced in house rather than by the trusty band of freelances of which I have been one. Heigh-ho. It goes with the territory.

Strangely, though, the very next day after I heard this news, someone I've not worked with for nearly two years popped up and asked if I'd be free to take on a book in October. Yes, please! It's amazing how often it happens that I lose one client only for another to come along. Thank you, universe.

Also coming along in October is publication of A Sparge Bag on the Washing Line. I'm waiting to see cover designs at the moment, which is all very exciting. In the meantime, I'm planning a launch event and looking into advertising/publicity options. Watch this space!

In other news, the great pumpkin harvest is beginning. See exhibit A, above, which is 10 inches across.

Not a woman's best friend

Photo: Morguefile

To be clear, I have nothing against dogs. Dogs are animals; they act on instinct, not reason. Dog owners, however, well, that's another matter.

Might I suggest that when out exercising your hound on a public footpath, should you see someone coming towards you*, you call that hound to heel? Don't assume that everyone is happy to be jumped upon by a strange animal.

Nor does it help to say, 'Oh, he won't hurt you. He's just being friendly.'  
Two things:

• First, how do you know he won't hurt me? Just because he's never bitten anyone yet, doesn't mean he won't start with me. Maybe he doesn't like the look of me. Maybe I smell intimidating. Maybe I'll accidentally make some movement that your animal will interpret as threatening.
• Second, I can be friendly, too, but I wouldn't leap up and gyrate against your leg or lick your face without being introduced first.

I'll say it again: dogs are animals. They are not people, no matter how much you wish they were. Broadly speaking they have teeth at one end and smelly poo at the other.

* I am of course ranting here against the minority and in particular against the owner I encountered yesterday. I'm sure anyone reading this is a responsible and considerate pet owner.