Monday, July 19, 2010

AFTERNOON IN THE HOUSE

Last week was an amazing time for meeting new people who now feel like old friends ...



(with Lia Leendertz and Joe Melia)

and starting new projects ...



(Catherine Smith and I promise that no animals or short stories were harmed in the creation of our new no longer mythical 'thingy', shortly to be announced)

and which culminated in an amazing evening in Bristol at the Bristol Short Story Prize celebration, won by super talented Valerie O'Riordan (seen here trying to escape from my clutches...)



It was such a great evening, wonderfully organised by Joe Melia, and happily coinciding with the birthday of short story queen, Tania Hershman. As she was one of the judges, I feel really grateful she invited me to speak. I had a few wobbles - not least because I was chronically shy as a kid (like so many writers it seems). So much so that I once locked myself in the bathroom and refused to come out just because my mum had asked a 'friend' round to play with me. The friend had to go home eventually, much to my relief as I could get back to my books and cuddling up with the dog. Anyway, I have learnt to control it most of the time (the wonders of the internet and best shyness cure EVER) and I'm particularly glad I came out of the bathroom this time, because I had a great night and met lots of lovely writers including Clare Wallace, Claire King, Jonathan Pinnock and many many more who I know I am going to enjoy reading more of, and about, in the future.

But this week is a bit quieter. A time to settle down and process some of the new thoughts, ideas and projects that are currently swimming round my head. I'm reminded of this poem by Jane Kenyon, who just always says it right.




AFTERNOON IN THE HOUSE
by Jane Kenyon


It's quiet here. The cats
sprawl, each
in a favored place.
The geranium leans this way
to see if I'm writing about her:
head all petals, brown
stalks, and those green fans.
So you see,
I am writing about you.

I turn on the radio. Wrong.
Let's not have any noise
in this room, except
the sound of a voice reading a poem.
The cat's request
The Meadow Mouse, by Theodore Roethke.

The house settles down on its haunches
for a doze.
I know you are with me, plants,
and cats - and even so, I'm frightened,
sitting in the middle of perfect
possibility.


Beautiful, eh? That perfect possibility...

You can buy the Bristol Short Story Prize Anthology here, and I strongly urge that you do. This is GOOD writing - short stories at their best. And so varied. Even those people who are determined they don't like short stories will find something to love here.

11 comments:

Nik Perring said...

Brilliant stuff. Shame I couldn't have been there (at Bristol). And so that's what that Melia looks like!

Tania Hershman said...

No, you are Short Story Queen! Lovely to see you, and that shyness remedy really works, because I would never have known. I suffer from it too, not a lot to be done, is there, when there are so many amazing events to get to? A wonderful night, congrats all - looking forward to hearing about your "thingy". Bristol wants you back soon.

Kath McGurl said...

What a lovely poem, thank you for bringing that to us masses!

Sounds like a great night at Bristol. Well done to all the winners there.

Teresa Stenson said...

That poem is perfect.

Sarah Salway said...

Nik, yes, would have been lovely to see you. And Joe is just LOVELY!
Tania, YOU are the ssq - we could go on like this for ages, couldn't we? And let's face it, come May we will be queens together with the best view in England!
Thanks, womagwriter and Teresa, isn't the poem beautiful? It just stills me every time. I think she's a wonderful poet.

annell4 said...

I like that very much! And I always like her work.

Kathryn's Daily Writing Workout said...

I love that poem. Something magical and still about sleeping cats, plants and quiet houses. So hard to come by sometimes! And does that shyness cure REALLY work?

Sarah Salway said...

Me too, Annell, and yes, Kathryn, it really does work for me. But so does the internet, because now when you go to places, there's quite often someone from twitter or facebook or blogs that you've spoken to virtually already and so at least have that in common!

Jenzarina said...

I just loved that poem. Sounds like heaven.
Jen

Claire King said...

It was such a pleasure meeting you, Sarah. I'm looking forward both to your 'thingy' and your intriguing WIP!

Sarah Salway said...

I know, Jen. Just lovely.
And so good to meet you too, Claire. I am sure our paths will cross, either in person or on the page!