Here be the world...

 "SEVEN HUNDRED YEARS OF POETRY IN ENGLISH" - John Leonard [ed] (Aust 1994)

         I've come to the conclusion that at least half of the known world exists between the covers of books, and while this one (roughly the size and weight of your average breeze block) journeys backwards in Time (1991 to the 1300s), from the Now that we know through those other Times that we don't know, from Les Murray and Seamus Heaney to Chaucer and Langland. (But I have to add there's nothing of yours and nothing of mine in it and without them no version of the world would be complete, eh).

        This is the third of my "chuck-out" OpShop freebies, (why oh why do people throw out such treasure?), and will be a keeper, as surely no-one has ever read it from end to end, but will go on picking it over., a real browser. It's one of those. It's going up onto my shelves. So I can take it down every so often when I need to re-visit the other half of the world. Even if it is incomplete.

        It contains about 700 poems by 150 people, includes all of the "greats", plus heaps that should've been, and heaps that are (for me) completely unreadable. Especially before 1800. 1850. 1880! And I have to publicly own up to why that is. And okay, you may disagree, but we each like what we like. Especially when it comes to poetry.

        I approach reading poetry the same way I approach all creative writing. A novel has to suck me in by page six, a short story by paragraph two, and a piece of poetry by line four. If it doesn't, I move on.

        First, I can't get into stuff that's self-consciously pretentious, those pieces that are simply chopped up into 3-liners or 4-liners to look like "poetry", and often when they are actually really great prose. (Check the piece on Jeff Guess posted 8th April below). Give it away guys, it's irritating and a waste of your talent. Find a more natural rhythm to suit the content. Then there's the old-fashioned, strict-metre, twisted-syntax, rhyme-at-any-cost stuff. This is a legitimate art form but so little of it works well. They're way too often simply exercises in being clever.

        What else? I found that much of the 1800s pieces, so much of it by the "greats", were  just public competitions of the day in describing Nature. Geez they wuz boring fellas. The Romance crap from the 1700s - ohmygod - indigestible. Then there's all that Religion wallop back in the 1500s-1600s, compounded by being in Old English. And the literary lengths some went to! - 43 verses and they still couldn't find what they were trying to say. Spenser's "Faerie Queen" (c1590) goes to 36,000 lines, but the longest poem ever written in English is 131,000 lines, and that was in the early 1800s.

        So, what can I say? Walt Whitman (1819-1892) showed us the way to write poetry in so-called "free verse", to break away from the rule-driven poetic conventions of the past, and (okay, as I see it) capture in words the inner workings of your body mind and soul in the dealings you have with the world as you find it - the whole funny, sad, brutal, loving, hating, creating, destroying, shitty, uplifting - experience.

        As I ploughed through this tome, I tagged everything that caught my eye. I'll put bits of these up in "Pandoras Box", give you a chance to bucket my opinions. Ah, I do so love this job!

        Cheers....

                    Trev

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Some words of wisdom...

 "ALL I WANT IS A WARM BED AND A KIND WORD, AND UNLIMITED POWER" - Ashleigh Brilliant (USA 1985)

        This is the second of my three chuck-out freebies from my favourite OpShop, a very good browse-then-ditch job.

        First up, I never heard of this guy, but he was apparently big in the US world of syndicated newspapers and greeting cards and tee-shirts in the 80s and 90s. Second up, his name isn't a cutesy invention, it really is Brilliant, and he encloses a copy of his birth certificate (born in London 1933, lived mostly in  the US) to quash the doubters!

        His large body of output is just about all through epigrams, confined to 17 words or less, accompanied by an appropriate illustration, apparently mostly from old out-of-copyright works, and called "Pot-Shots". And okay, it's not all brilliant, but there's plenty that's good to great, here loosely arranged by subject, and a very satisfying browse. (And when I first saw the title, about seven current world leaders' faces sprang immediately to mind!)

        He precedes each section with a short observation, about Life, which are all worth reading, albeit at times a touch cynical, not all pretend I suspect, and if you're curious about his life and work, have a dig into Wiki...

THE BRILLIANT LIFE

        A book well worth the browse, but if you Google his name and "Pot-Shots" and hit "Images", you'll find a whole bunch, such as...

        Cheers....

                T.R.E.

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If you're serious....

"OUT OF US ALL" - Susan Cooper (UK 1969)

        I love Op Shops, not those so much that are mainly clothes and shoes and handbags, but the big ones where you can find (if you want one) a spade or a bike or a rice cooker or a bed lamp, or two books (or five DVDs) for a buck, and they have a freebie chuck-out stand at the door. We visit one of these every week. I always scab through the chuck-outs.

        A couple of weeks back I found three books there. This is one of them, a  once-proud volume from the shelves of the Barr-Smith Library of Adelaide University (and justifiably so) long ago. The other two I'll get to soon and report back.

        This book could just as easily been titled "IN ALL OF US" because that's what Susan Cooper is saying - we all have stories in us, if you have the desire (the compulsion!) to weed them out and get them onto the page. This could just be a huge help if you're struggling to find a start.

        It was compiled for Years 10 and 11 High School Lit students, but if you're serious about creative writing, you can do a helluva lot worse than read this excellent compilation of story excerpts from the pens of such worthies as Dylan Thomas (still one of the all time best ever ever ever), as well as some poetry, and arranged by subject matter - "Memories", "The Sea", "Love", "Gangs and Rebels", et al - with lists of suggested exercises at the end of each, designed to get you off your rear end and thinking and creating.

        Okay, may be a bit hard to find, but there's copies out there online. You could do a lot worse.

        Cheers....

                    T.R.E.

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Just confronted by....

"THE SUNBIRD" - Sara Haddad (Aust 2024)

        This is a short work of fiction, less than a novella really (but with a confronting "appendix"), of an old woman living in modern day Australian suburbia, but looking back to the 1947 events in Palestine when she was a five year old caught up in those early waves of Zionism after the war, when she and her family were displaced from their homes.

        This work is clearly and heavily biased to the cause of the modern day Palestinians and the current (written when still only half way along) events in Gaza, while the appendix is a list of (what I hope is) facts (up to mid-late 2024) about the "war", all very damning to the Israeli government policies and its army of implementation. And presumably any country that supports it.

        What can I say? The story itself (self-published, I gather on purpose) is well written and very readable, but stems from an author who is personally involved, being a "Lebanese/Australian" and a journalist to boot. I have my own opinions about this "war" (and about a heap of other horrors that spews out of the TV news every night), but I'm not going to add them here. (Stay tuned to "Pandoras Box" over to the left).

        I strongly urge you to read this book (if you can find a copy - I fell over mine in a street library - although it sounds like there's been plenty printed) with an open mind, then do as I'm about to do, Google the hell out of it and make sure of what I believe to be true, is, starting with "What is Zionism?"

        Oddly enough, I couldn't find out much about Sara Hadad, but the tag below should help.

SARA HADDAD

        Cheers....

                T.R.E.

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Object lessons for the starter-outer

        There's something a bit special about reading the PROOF COPY of your work, this one being the second edition print, WITH my own cover design, and have to say much better than the original, it being back when I was green. I was never happy with the old cover (right, back in 1993) but didn't feel competent enough to say so at the time.

        I soon found that the resellers didn't know quite where to put it on their shelves, I saw "Australiana", "Memoir", and "New Fiction" and somehow it didn't look quite comfortable in any of them. First lesson, don't be afraid of "The System", stand up for yourself.

        I had quite a set of reactions from this re-reading after so many years, made me realise how much of a beginner I was back then, but especially how I (wisely I see now) used a whole bunch of my own life experiences to get going. Another lesson, use what you know to start with, experiment later if you want. I remember a good friend ringing me when they read it on release, saying - "I didn't realise just how Australian you are!" Neither did I till they said that. Still, I'm fifth generation Aus in all directions, most of them pioneer farmers, all of them battlers, and every one of them contributed to what I write.

        My own version of "The Ghost" didn't actually come alive until the mid-late 1970s (I was in my '30s), I explored steadily through to the mid 1980s, started writing with focus and intent about 1988, found a great agent, had poetry published. He wanted more, sent him a short story (one of many I had by then), published that, what else y' got? So I sent a whole bunch more short stuff, luckily all of a homogenous nature, and of time and place settings. Because that's what I knew best. One look at it all and he said "This is a novel! - just needs front and back ends...", which I did, and "Melrose St" was published in 1993.

        So my friend, if you're just starting out, doesn't matter how young or old you are, practice by exploring stuff close to you, get it down, massage it into a whole, see where it goes. Worked for me.

        Cheers...

                T.R.E.

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Currently re-discovering...

"NORTH AND WEST OF MELROSE STREET"
        - T. R. Edmonds (Aus 1993/2019)

        I have a sure-fire way of telling if a book has totally sucked me in - my right foot goes to sleep. Yep, ridgey-didge, pins and needles so bad I have to hop for a while afterwards.

        I do most of my reading in the "Library" for about 15-20 minutes each morning, but if I read too long my right foot drops off (or Jess in passing wants to know "You haven't died in there have you!?").

        This week I've had a dead foot five mornings in a row.

        It's been about 30 years since I read this book, and that was for the final edit of the proof copy of the original edition, as I didn't bother with that for this second edition, as I just had to okay the cover, the back blurb, and the technical bits for the front pages. But having finished "Bob" I cast about for what was next, fixed on this, got totally hooked. And no, not because it's mine (my first), but because it's simply a great read. And because of it's been so long, it's like reading someone else's work, every word and character and event fresh and new.

        What can I say? - plenty of copies around, in paperback (Abe Books), and e-book (Amazon and Kobo). And if you're in Aus, there's lending copies in each State's One Library network. Do yourself a favour...

        Cheers....

                Trev

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Spreading a little joy...

 "A STREET CAT NAMED BOB" - James Bowen (UK 2012)

        After a long-ish string of reading fiction, I took a break with some biography and some extremely deep and taxing Peanuts Gang with good old Charlie Brown and Snoopy (geez I love it when Snoopy flies his Sopwith Camel chasing after the Red Baron!). Then with many short story collections waiting I went back to them, but the first one was just too inyaface so I dished it, then couldn't get into a fiction mood at all. Bob saved me!

        We've seen the movie of this twice, and loved it, so when I saw Bowen's book on the Salvo shelf I thought yep, that's for me! This'll be a keeper. If you haven't seen the movie, telling you about it won't spoil it, trust me. And like all movies of books, they had to cut out enough to make it fit, so the book gives an even wider pleasure.

        A completely true story, of a young ex heroin addict who had a pretty dysfunctional childhood/teenage, living on support mechanisms and busking on the London streets to get by, crosses paths with a 6-8 month old ginger tom looking the worse for wear. But this cat has attitude and personality so Bowen's (and Bob's) memoir is all about how they go busking together and save each other through some difficult times.

        Get a copy, or see the movie, or both. You'll want to send me flowers of gratitude!

        Cheers...

                Trev

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Just finished....

"C. J. DENNIS - His Remarkable Career" - Alec Chisholm (Aust 1946) 

        I love history, I love Australian history, I love literary history. Which is why I've been looking for a biography of poet C J Dennis (1876-1938) for a while, fell over this one in an Op Shop, and it appealed because it was done in 1946, just 8 years after his death, which meant Chisholm got to talk to people who actually knew Dennis, even a couple that went to school with him.

        Don't get me wrong, even though I have his two most well-known collections, and have read them, Dennis's poetry is now terribly dated, being of the back streets of Melbourne around WWI, reading today like a send-up of London East End Cockney more that anything much recognisable as Australian "slanguage". You have to read behind the idiom nowadays to enjoy the stories of The Sentimental Bloke and Doreen and Ginger Mick. But worth it if you persevere.

        Anyway, this is his biography, which paints such an insightful picture of the writer and his times, and surprising to find just how totally unlike his characters Dennis was. And a bit sad to see that in later life how he couldn't change, couldn't move on in his literary material, was stuck in a mould, a victim to some degree of his own phenomenal success (J K Rowling springs to mind?). 

        And another thing, this bloke's story is an object lesson for writers today, as Dennis had to work hard at it, pretty much with dedication, and success didn't come overnight. But he grafted and worked the angles, and grabbed at luck when it happened. Worth a read just for that.

        Cheers....

                T.R.E.

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Just finished enjoying

"SELECTED SONNETS" - Jeff Guess (Aust 1991) 

        I like Jeff Guess's writings, a local poet who really knows his way around a phrase, and can capture an image or a feeling brilliantly with a refreshingly short handful of words, not always an easy thing to do.

        This is a slim collection of his poetry, and well worth the read if you can find a copy. But I had one problem with so many of the pieces in it - it's the way he chooses to format them.

        They read like they're a great opening paragraph to a short story or a piece of microlit - and they are! It's just that he then chops them up into "poetry" format. One pulled out at random below, first re-jigged (by me) into prose, and as it appears in the book. What's your slant on it? Am I just getting old and pedantic??

< >

        Waist high above odd sticks of wheat he stands at the centre of a difficult universe. Rain is a bad dream that clouds old eyes.
        Years ago he might have prayed for it to either start or stop - hold off for harvest. Time has ordered the once high-handed psalm of praise into a sad doxology of certainties, that number mice and means, rust and reliance, and all that lets him down. Darned woollen arms folded over and around, wrapping the sparse frame of an old farmer rigged out as if for fancy dress he no longer wants to go to, a scarecrow with little stuffing left - to keep even the birds away.

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                  The Farmer

    Waist high above odd sticks of wheat he
    stands at the centre of a difficult universe.

    Rain is a bad dream that clouds old eyes.
    Years ago he might have prayed for it to

    either start or stop - hold off for harvest.
    Time has ordered the once high-handed

    psalm of praise into a sad doxology
    of certainties, that number mice and means,

    rust and reliance and all that lets him down.
    Darned woollen arms folded over and around

    wrapping the sparse frame of an old farmer
    rigged out as if for fancy dress he no

    longer wants to go to. A scarecrow with little
    stuffing left - to keep even the birds away.

                         (C) Jeff Guess 1991

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Re-thinking "purpose"

         The other day I had a pick through all the gear over on the right hand side, the "WRITE STUFF" material, and realised it was just taking up space, which made me ask myself what I intended in the first place. I mean, what's a blog supposed to do anyway - mainly entertain, sometimes inform, sometimes enlighten. But I think I originally meant that "side" to be of help to any wannabe writers, pass on titbits that have been of use to me.

        But it just became stuffy and overloaded and even a few of the tags didn't work anymore. So I cleaned it all out. Bit by bit I'll either review the old stuff and bring it up to date, or find something new. More relevant. And godknows I was never the expert in anything literary, just a touch experienced.

        So, what first?

        I will re-do all of the tags that I've found useful (and yes, these will probably all be Australian, as my overseas following has dwindled over the years, while the Aus hits have grown steadily), such as Publishing, Agents, and Competitions, which are still the most important other than actually writing. But the rest could be anything, as in truth I mostly have no idea who you are or what you might be looking for here, but I'm sure there's a few out there who are simply looking for encouragement. I surely was when I set out. And in the ideal world we'd sit down over coffee and have a decent one-to-one chat. But it's never an ideal world.

        One thing I do intend to do though, is put up a SCRAP HEAP.

        I read a book in the early 1980s, by a long term author who was nearing the end of his days, and simply wanted to do something with all the bits he still had, which he thought were all too good to be chucked away. So he published a whole book of them! Made it clear it was all in the public domain and un-copyrighted, and invited any reader to use any bit they wanted. It was a brilliant read, some bits inspired the hell out of me so I re-jigged them and made them into short stories. Not a single pang of guilt.

        Okay, I'm not feeling the creepy guy with the scythe particularly close, but I like the idea, and I have heaps of stuff I'll never get to. So, be my guest, steal whatever you want out of THE SCRAP HEAP once it's up, do something with it. If a bit triggers an idea in you, grab it and run. That's what Inspiration is all about.

        You see, it was the book (below) of "Blokes & Sheds" that brought all this to a head. It gave me a paroxysm of Inspiration! Just after I'd sworn NOT to start any new writing projects, as my creative time is limited and I already have way too much half done. But you can't ignore Inspiration. Geez no! It's one of the most powerful forces in the literary universe.

        (Oh shit, head getting woozy, time out, bugger!!!)

        (20 mins later!) Had a walk up and back, swore profusely at Old Age and bloody Nature, better wind this up. Stay tuned.....

        Cheers....   (and thank you for sticking with me for all this time, I love doing this and I wish and I wish that we could share that cup of coffee.)

                T.R.E.

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