I was rather shocked to realise I hadn't posted anything on the blog for four days. Admittedly we were away for a few of those days on a I-have-to-get-outta-here break with another family in Naseby, which was fabulous, but otherwise I feel I've been chasing my tail trying to catch up on an extremely long to-do list.
Top of the to-do list is a few revisions on the manuscript, and although these are minor I'm finding it difficult as in my mind I have moved on to the next novel, Bound, so revisiting Containment feels like backwards rather than forwards momentum. That's the funny thing about novels, they keep coming back at you, whether its for revisions, or edits, or proof-reading. I suppose it's preparation for when the kids grow up and leave home, then keep coming back, then leaving, then coming back...
Having had two weeks away from home I seem to be two weeks behind on general stuff, and I didn't quite realise how much stuff there was to do. Whether novel related stuff, school stuff, university stuff, NZSA stuff, family stuff, household stuff, stuff stuff.
So I have written a list (I'm big on lists as my mind has the retention of a sieve) and the list is so long it fulfils my daily target of writing 1000 words.
I've already crossed 'go to school and record the kid's poetry for the radio show' off the list, and wash the sheets, and put out the wheelie bin, and book the car in for it's service check.
And now I can happily cross today's blogging off the list...
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
The Janissary Tree
By Jason Goodwin.
This murder mystery is set amongst the rich and fascinating setting of Nineteenth century Istanbul. A concubine from the Sultan's harem has been killed and it is the task of Yashim, a eunuch to discover the killer. He is also charged with discovering the murderer of a cadet in the New Guard.
Yashim is an entertaining and unique protagonist. As a eunuch, he has unrestricted entry to places most would not be allowed upon pain of death. I enjoyed his particular quirks, and learned way more about eunuchs than I ever wanted to. I found it a slightly meandering book, but the pleasure of the journey with Yashim made it well worth the read.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
WOW - The end, sigh.
Saturday 7th March
Wake up in Cromwell at the Golden Gate Lodge. Eat breakfast cereal dampened with my remaining ration of miniscule UHT milk pottles out of a tea cup with a teaspoon. Well equipped room. The previous evening’s event still bangs around in my head:
Best comedic timing in the face of adversity:
Lady in Red: “… may I introduce Stephen Brawn-eye-as.” (accent on the “eye”)
Steve: “That was a noble attempt at pronouncing my name.”
Lady in Red: “Why, what is it?”
Steve: “Smith.”
All the troops rounded up we head merrily to Queenstown (although find ourselves drawn to a welcome interlude at Gibston Winery and Cheesery)
After the Mountain Scene’s article with its banner headlines quoting Steve as saying Queenstown is “Preposterous and visually offensive” we expect to be greeted by picket lines and hecklers. Instead we arrive to … nothing. The book store venue has nothing set up and we’re thinking hmmmm. There are no highly offended locals, no burning effigies. Steve seems disappointed.
Eventually eight or so locals arrive to hear the authors and I’m related to half of them, so we have an impromptu reading session in the store.
We have our first pang of sadness and glimpse of things to come as our provocative traveling companion Steve has to part our company for another assignment. It’s like a reality TV programme – Steve, you are off the bus – except with hugs and the odd tear.
The remaining survivors head towards Wanaka via the twisty and turny but scenic Crown Range Road. It is no reflection on Kathryn’s driving that we arrive singing hymns. I am amazed at Janet’s and Anna’s ability to remember all of the words.
We get dolled up ready for the evenings do. As we are all dressed up, and early, we head around to Anna’s father in law’s for a drink. Thanks Hugh.
Our last event is hosted by a book group in the home of Lois, owner of Rippon Vineyards. Gob smacked – amazing house, stunning view, fabulous company, food and great Pinot Noir. David pulls out a couple of his plays and enlists members and spouses of the group to act up – they love it. The evening turns out to be a memorable and fun event. It seems a fitting end to a wonderful tour of grass roots readers to finish in someone’s home.
Sunday brings with it the time for sadness and joy – it’s been a fabulous tour and we are all loath to part company after our week’s break from real life, but real life too has its charms and we head off in our respective directions to home and family and the anticipation of seeing little faces delighted to claim us back.
Post Script to this posting, originally on Beattie's Book Blog:
My baggage was slightly heavier when I reached home, courtesy of a few book acquisitions. As well as copies of my fellow WOWers books, autographed - I'm the kind of girl who likes physical mementos of special trips, my added extras included: three Ngaio Marsh books, a NZ true crime book, an antique world atlas, an old Hobbies for Boys book for Mr Nine-Year-Old, an old The Last Battle by CS Lewis for Mr Seven-Year-Old, other sugary bribery for the kids, Northanger Abbey by Jane Austin - a birthday gift from Janet, she called it Jane Austin's girl detective novel, a Jesus pen - gift from my fellow travellers, and a couple of rocks (the memento thing again.)
WOW was a remarkable experience, my fellow travellers were superb company - it felt like being on a creative and fun holiday away from real life with a bunch of mates. What lovely memories!
Wake up in Cromwell at the Golden Gate Lodge. Eat breakfast cereal dampened with my remaining ration of miniscule UHT milk pottles out of a tea cup with a teaspoon. Well equipped room. The previous evening’s event still bangs around in my head:
Best comedic timing in the face of adversity:
Lady in Red: “… may I introduce Stephen Brawn-eye-as.” (accent on the “eye”)
Steve: “That was a noble attempt at pronouncing my name.”
Lady in Red: “Why, what is it?”
Steve: “Smith.”
All the troops rounded up we head merrily to Queenstown (although find ourselves drawn to a welcome interlude at Gibston Winery and Cheesery)
After the Mountain Scene’s article with its banner headlines quoting Steve as saying Queenstown is “Preposterous and visually offensive” we expect to be greeted by picket lines and hecklers. Instead we arrive to … nothing. The book store venue has nothing set up and we’re thinking hmmmm. There are no highly offended locals, no burning effigies. Steve seems disappointed.
Eventually eight or so locals arrive to hear the authors and I’m related to half of them, so we have an impromptu reading session in the store.
We have our first pang of sadness and glimpse of things to come as our provocative traveling companion Steve has to part our company for another assignment. It’s like a reality TV programme – Steve, you are off the bus – except with hugs and the odd tear.
The remaining survivors head towards Wanaka via the twisty and turny but scenic Crown Range Road. It is no reflection on Kathryn’s driving that we arrive singing hymns. I am amazed at Janet’s and Anna’s ability to remember all of the words.
We get dolled up ready for the evenings do. As we are all dressed up, and early, we head around to Anna’s father in law’s for a drink. Thanks Hugh.
Our last event is hosted by a book group in the home of Lois, owner of Rippon Vineyards. Gob smacked – amazing house, stunning view, fabulous company, food and great Pinot Noir. David pulls out a couple of his plays and enlists members and spouses of the group to act up – they love it. The evening turns out to be a memorable and fun event. It seems a fitting end to a wonderful tour of grass roots readers to finish in someone’s home.
Sunday brings with it the time for sadness and joy – it’s been a fabulous tour and we are all loath to part company after our week’s break from real life, but real life too has its charms and we head off in our respective directions to home and family and the anticipation of seeing little faces delighted to claim us back.
Post Script to this posting, originally on Beattie's Book Blog:
My baggage was slightly heavier when I reached home, courtesy of a few book acquisitions. As well as copies of my fellow WOWers books, autographed - I'm the kind of girl who likes physical mementos of special trips, my added extras included: three Ngaio Marsh books, a NZ true crime book, an antique world atlas, an old Hobbies for Boys book for Mr Nine-Year-Old, an old The Last Battle by CS Lewis for Mr Seven-Year-Old, other sugary bribery for the kids, Northanger Abbey by Jane Austin - a birthday gift from Janet, she called it Jane Austin's girl detective novel, a Jesus pen - gift from my fellow travellers, and a couple of rocks (the memento thing again.)
WOW was a remarkable experience, my fellow travellers were superb company - it felt like being on a creative and fun holiday away from real life with a bunch of mates. What lovely memories!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
WOW-Friday Wanaka and Cromwell
You have to love provincial towns and the people who choose to or are forced to inhabit them. Our first stop for the morning was Mount Aspiring College, or MAC as they affectionately refer to themselves. Our talk was held in the senior common room, and this common room had a rock climbing wall. Naturally Anna felt compelled to climb it, and naturally, I didn't. We were learning new things about our fellow busees every day, so we could add rock wall climbing to Anna's impressive resume.
I don't know what it is but they seem to breed incredibly energetic young male English teachers down here. We met Alan at Twizel Area School, and now Chris at MAC. MAC was also blessed with Florence, the librarian, who was French and wins the award for the most outstanding baking provided by any group during our tour - still warm from the oven chocolate chip cookies, and a selection of sandwiches and wraps. Yum - thanks Florence. It was great to see what they were doing with their library.
I think the bit the students enjoyed most was Steve regailing them with stories of his meeting with Michael Jackson, the gloved one, and the live demonstration of what happens if you make the mistake of trying to shake his hand.
Funny moment of the morning - looking out the window and seeing a boy piggybacking another boy and a girl perched on top of him. Don't worry, one of the teachers quips, they're farming boys. If that wasn't funny enough, this aside caught coming from the mouth of the young man later as he walked back unencumbered - "Must find me a heavier girl."
Words on Wheels display in Cromwell Paper Plus
Our next stop was Cromwell College, and despite being only forty minutes down the road, it had a completely different feel to MAC. The students here were harder, though still lovely and engaging. The auditorium we were in had the most amazing colourful relief mural of a local Maori legend involving a taniwha, the wind and two headed dogs. They inspired David to get the kids to do an improvised play about Maui fishing up the North Island. The kids had a great time with it, and we were all amused at their sugestion as to what Maui could use as bait for his hook - his brothers!
Anna was delighted when the school librarian told her they didn't have her books at the moment as they kept getting stolen! That has to be one of the best endorsements of a writer's ability to capture their audience.
Friday was a three-eventer and the last gig for the night was a talk at Cromwell's Golden Gate Conference Centre. (Before the event I got the award for furthest inadvertant flight of a cherry tomato at dinner - can't take me anywhere.)
Our evening event went well, despite a few equipment issues - the podium and microphone (I have an allergy to them) and Steve managing to break his reading glasses and having to borrow some off the audience. The audience responded well to all our readings and questions, and particularly enjoyed Janet's poetry and Steve's reading about dear Mr Wilson in Death of a Ladies Man.
It was lovely for us all to kick back after a hectic day and enjoy a few quiet drinks and scintillating conversation out on the balcony. WOW has been out of this world.
I don't know what it is but they seem to breed incredibly energetic young male English teachers down here. We met Alan at Twizel Area School, and now Chris at MAC. MAC was also blessed with Florence, the librarian, who was French and wins the award for the most outstanding baking provided by any group during our tour - still warm from the oven chocolate chip cookies, and a selection of sandwiches and wraps. Yum - thanks Florence. It was great to see what they were doing with their library.
I think the bit the students enjoyed most was Steve regailing them with stories of his meeting with Michael Jackson, the gloved one, and the live demonstration of what happens if you make the mistake of trying to shake his hand.
Funny moment of the morning - looking out the window and seeing a boy piggybacking another boy and a girl perched on top of him. Don't worry, one of the teachers quips, they're farming boys. If that wasn't funny enough, this aside caught coming from the mouth of the young man later as he walked back unencumbered - "Must find me a heavier girl."
Words on Wheels display in Cromwell Paper PlusOur next stop was Cromwell College, and despite being only forty minutes down the road, it had a completely different feel to MAC. The students here were harder, though still lovely and engaging. The auditorium we were in had the most amazing colourful relief mural of a local Maori legend involving a taniwha, the wind and two headed dogs. They inspired David to get the kids to do an improvised play about Maui fishing up the North Island. The kids had a great time with it, and we were all amused at their sugestion as to what Maui could use as bait for his hook - his brothers!
Anna was delighted when the school librarian told her they didn't have her books at the moment as they kept getting stolen! That has to be one of the best endorsements of a writer's ability to capture their audience.
Friday was a three-eventer and the last gig for the night was a talk at Cromwell's Golden Gate Conference Centre. (Before the event I got the award for furthest inadvertant flight of a cherry tomato at dinner - can't take me anywhere.)
Our evening event went well, despite a few equipment issues - the podium and microphone (I have an allergy to them) and Steve managing to break his reading glasses and having to borrow some off the audience. The audience responded well to all our readings and questions, and particularly enjoyed Janet's poetry and Steve's reading about dear Mr Wilson in Death of a Ladies Man.
It was lovely for us all to kick back after a hectic day and enjoy a few quiet drinks and scintillating conversation out on the balcony. WOW has been out of this world.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Now where was I? Thursday on WOW
Thursday on the Words on Wheels tour was a positively cushy day, with only one gig and a free afternoon. The gig provided the best quote of the tour.
We had arrived late into Twizel on Wednesday night, so finally got to check out the lay of the land on Thursday morning. It was, to me, an odd and bland looking town, but every local we chatted to raved about how much they loved it there, so looks must be deceptive.
We started off our day at Twizel Area School, which caters for pupils aged from five to eighteen. Our audience looked to be aged fourteen and over, and we were all amused to see they naturally segregated themselves into girls on our left and boys from our right. We had the front row slouchers and the back row gigglers, uniformed pupils, pupils who were supposedly uniformed but wearing it in intriguing ways, and the seniors in all manner of mufti.
David is big on audience participation and one of the highlights of the tour was his pulling a pupil out of the crowd in each town or school to read the same poem. An adult would read Hone Tuwhare's Rain, then David would get a student to read his anti-poem, titled I Hate Rain. It was amazing to see the various attitudes with which the anti poem was delivered, and surprising to see the universal struggle they had pronouncing the name Tuwhare.
Twizel Area School produced the best anti-poem attitude of the tour and man, I wished it had been caught on video. So genuine thanks to Jordan, our uber-blonde chick, who delivered it with edge, and when it came to struggling over the name delivered the absolutely perfect, couldn't do it if you tried, had us all falling off our chairs "Hone Tu-wha-what-ever."
We will never forget Twizel!
We couldn't be with in close proximity of a bird sanctuary and not drop by with Mr Baunias aboard, so we took a little detour to the local Department of Conservation Black Stilt breeding ground. Huge thanks to our very knowledgeable guide, and owner of the best mullet hair do seen on tour.
This also provided another great quote when someone made a comment about the bird's beaks and Steve corrected them, "They are not called beaks, they are bills." Yeah, get it right!
We got to enjoy our picture postcard perfect moment at Lake Pukaki, where Aorangi Mt Cook was on perfect display, before we headed off towards Omarama and lunch and the memorable sight of our tour minder Kathryn reenacting a childhood pony club photo on the wooden horse at the cafe. That's what happens to minders after a few days of trying to keep a bus load of writers under control.
We had one more tiki-tour on Steve's insistence to see the Clay Cliffs. They were worth the detour, even if we thought we'd lost Steve and Anna for a while when they decided to go play explorers in a wild west movie.
After a cruisy day and lots of playing tourist we were grateful to rock into Wanaka, find a quiet bar for a drink and the great pool competition re-match - the guys won this time, dammit. We then got to enjoy our takeaway dinner, sitting on the picture perfect lakefront, talking to the, what were those black birds with white beaks again Steve? Coots?
We had arrived late into Twizel on Wednesday night, so finally got to check out the lay of the land on Thursday morning. It was, to me, an odd and bland looking town, but every local we chatted to raved about how much they loved it there, so looks must be deceptive.
We started off our day at Twizel Area School, which caters for pupils aged from five to eighteen. Our audience looked to be aged fourteen and over, and we were all amused to see they naturally segregated themselves into girls on our left and boys from our right. We had the front row slouchers and the back row gigglers, uniformed pupils, pupils who were supposedly uniformed but wearing it in intriguing ways, and the seniors in all manner of mufti.
David is big on audience participation and one of the highlights of the tour was his pulling a pupil out of the crowd in each town or school to read the same poem. An adult would read Hone Tuwhare's Rain, then David would get a student to read his anti-poem, titled I Hate Rain. It was amazing to see the various attitudes with which the anti poem was delivered, and surprising to see the universal struggle they had pronouncing the name Tuwhare.
Twizel Area School produced the best anti-poem attitude of the tour and man, I wished it had been caught on video. So genuine thanks to Jordan, our uber-blonde chick, who delivered it with edge, and when it came to struggling over the name delivered the absolutely perfect, couldn't do it if you tried, had us all falling off our chairs "Hone Tu-wha-what-ever."
We will never forget Twizel!
We couldn't be with in close proximity of a bird sanctuary and not drop by with Mr Baunias aboard, so we took a little detour to the local Department of Conservation Black Stilt breeding ground. Huge thanks to our very knowledgeable guide, and owner of the best mullet hair do seen on tour.
This also provided another great quote when someone made a comment about the bird's beaks and Steve corrected them, "They are not called beaks, they are bills." Yeah, get it right!
We got to enjoy our picture postcard perfect moment at Lake Pukaki, where Aorangi Mt Cook was on perfect display, before we headed off towards Omarama and lunch and the memorable sight of our tour minder Kathryn reenacting a childhood pony club photo on the wooden horse at the cafe. That's what happens to minders after a few days of trying to keep a bus load of writers under control.
We had one more tiki-tour on Steve's insistence to see the Clay Cliffs. They were worth the detour, even if we thought we'd lost Steve and Anna for a while when they decided to go play explorers in a wild west movie.
After a cruisy day and lots of playing tourist we were grateful to rock into Wanaka, find a quiet bar for a drink and the great pool competition re-match - the guys won this time, dammit. We then got to enjoy our takeaway dinner, sitting on the picture perfect lakefront, talking to the, what were those black birds with white beaks again Steve? Coots?
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Normal service will resume...
...on Monday after the school fair.
Mental note to self - next time there is a school fair - don't offer to organise it!
Mental note to self - next time there is a school fair - don't offer to organise it!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
WOW - Wednesday - Happy Birthday to me
I got to celebrate one of those birthdays on tour, the ones with a little zero on the end. It felt kind of weird waking up to a birthday in a strange motel room, and without the invasion of excited little fellows wanting to see what pressies Mum got. It turned out to be a wonderful day.
Highlights :
Senior moment. In a telephone radio interview I did a complete blank on Steve Braunias' name. Oops, sorry Steve.
Feeding the miniature ponies pears left out especially for us by Viv Barrat from Methven - thanks Viv.
Mayfield second hand shop. Oh my God, gather your friends, pack your lunch, go for the day.
Staveley Cafe and Community Hall. Topp territory.
Janet hugging a giant moa (see pic)
Geraldine library gig. The room was too small, and some of the question time a little testing, but Owen Marshall turned up to hear us so all was forgiven.
Geraldine's record holding world's largest jersey; and the Bayeux tapestry replica, but done in sprung steel flecks - stunning and awe inspiring.
The lovely audience at Fairlie singing me Happy Birthday.
The amazing cowboy boots David borrowed (read dragged) off the feet of one of the Fairlie audience to act as a prop for his reading from Gary Manawatu (1964-2008): Death of a Fence-Post-Modernist.
The lovely lady from Fairlie who tracked us down to a restaurant to give us a bag of homemade chocolate chip biscuits.
My wonderful fellow travellers who presented me with a six-lamington, candle topped birthday cake, accompanied by chirpy Happy Birthday music piped over the restaurant sound system.
Fabulous day.
Highlights :
Senior moment. In a telephone radio interview I did a complete blank on Steve Braunias' name. Oops, sorry Steve.
Feeding the miniature ponies pears left out especially for us by Viv Barrat from Methven - thanks Viv.
Mayfield second hand shop. Oh my God, gather your friends, pack your lunch, go for the day.
Staveley Cafe and Community Hall. Topp territory.
Janet hugging a giant moa (see pic)
Geraldine library gig. The room was too small, and some of the question time a little testing, but Owen Marshall turned up to hear us so all was forgiven.
Geraldine's record holding world's largest jersey; and the Bayeux tapestry replica, but done in sprung steel flecks - stunning and awe inspiring.
The lovely audience at Fairlie singing me Happy Birthday.
The amazing cowboy boots David borrowed (read dragged) off the feet of one of the Fairlie audience to act as a prop for his reading from Gary Manawatu (1964-2008): Death of a Fence-Post-Modernist.
The lovely lady from Fairlie who tracked us down to a restaurant to give us a bag of homemade chocolate chip biscuits.
My wonderful fellow travellers who presented me with a six-lamington, candle topped birthday cake, accompanied by chirpy Happy Birthday music piped over the restaurant sound system.
Fabulous day.
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