Bibliophilia
ISSUE SEVEN Trenz Pruca MAY 2015 24 September 2014
Issue seven The Sea
BUMPER SHORT FICTION EDITION FROM WRITERS AROUND THE WORLD
MINI MASTERCLASSES IN GENRE Plus short fiction, poetry, book reviews and more
ISSUE SEVEN - MAY 2015
Copyright ©2015 by Bibliophilia Magazine All prose and poetry rights are reserved by the contributing authors. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the individual author. NEXT ISSUE!! The new year is a time for new starts, new resolutions, and new beginnings. Considering this we have decided our theme for January’s issue will be MAGIC Whether these are broken, unfulfilled or anything in between - be creative! As always please follow our submission guidelines and make sure your contribution is with us in plenty of time to be included.
Submission Guidelines Our guidelines are few and simple. We want to make it as easy for you to submit to us as possible and want to make our rules (such as they are) easy to follow. So here’s all you need to know: ‣ All submissions must be sent to bibliophilia@outlook.com by the 20th of the month to appear in the next month’s issue. ‣ All submissions must be sent as a pdf or word attachment, with your name, your pen name (if different), a short author bio (no more than 50 words) and your twitter name/ blog address in the email body. ‣ Short fiction can be no longer than 2,000 words, with the words ‘fiction submission’ as the subject of the email. Longer submissions will be considered on a case by case basis. ‣ Poetry can be no longer than 40 lines, with the words ‘poetry submission’ as the subject of the email. Up to three poems can be sent together. Longer submissions will be considered on a case by case basis. ‣ Features can be no longer than 1,500 words; proposals must be sent in the first instance with the words ‘features proposal’ as the subject of the email. Longer submissions will be considered on a case by case basis. ‣ All submissions must be sent via email - we do not accept snail mail submissions at this time. PAGE ONE
ISSUE SEVEN - MAY 2015
Regular Features
POETRY CLOSE READING PAGE 19
A NOTE FROM THE EDITOR
Our Contributors Page 3
Prompts Page Page 27
A Starfish flash fiction Page 4
Also this month, which is very exciting, we have the first of our interviews with writer’s who have ‘made it’, who are out there making their living from the words they scribble down (isn’t that the dream for us all?). Sue Moorcroft is the first to endure our intense questioning, and you can read her thoughts and advice on page 12.
Mac
MINI MASTERCLASS IN SCI-FI PAGE 5
Contents
What a bumper issue we have in store for you this month! We have short fiction from around the world, a new feature from Elle May on mastering your genre, as well as the usual book reviews and poetry close readings from Richard and Josie.
We are always keen to welcome new writers to our team - if you’re interested in writing for us just get in touch. In the meantime, enjoy what we have for you.
BOOK OF THE MONTH PAGE 16
Mini masterclass in sci-fi Page 5 And It Wobbles short story Page 9
Follow us on Twitter: @bibliophiliamag
Interview with Sue Moorcroft Page 12
bibliophiliamag. wordpress.com
Poetry Corner Page 15 Book of the Month Page 16 He Sits on the Sand short story Page 18 Poetry Close Reading Page 19 What We’re Doing Page 23 Book vs Movie Page 25
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CONTRIBUTORS A LITTLE BIT ABOUT THE PEOPLE BEHIND THE WORDS
Editor
Our Regulars Natasha McGregor - Editor Having written various genres since she was a teenager Natasha is looking forward to a new challenge in editing Bibliophilia. She is also working on her first full length novel and writing a collection of poetry. Twitter: @Natasha2Mc
Literary Reviewer
http://natasha2mcgregor.wordpress.com
Richard Southworth - Literary Reviewer Following prolific but not terribly original writing as a child, Richard got back into proper writing in 2009 by competing in National Novel Writing Month. He currently has eight NaNoWriMo victories under his belt, in addition to writing book reviews and the occasional short story. Twitter: @PneRichard
Features Writer
http://velociraptor256.wordpress.com/
Josie Alford - Features Writer Josie is 21 and lives in Bristol after finishing a degree in English Literature. She writes poetry and is saving money for a masters in creative writing. Her blog is full of all of her poetry and she aims to get into more performance poetry – follow her on twitter for updates! Twitter: @AlfordJmo
Features Writer
http://thefaultymanufacturing.blogspot.co.uk
E"eMay - Features Writer Elle May lives in Lancashire but her heart is travelling around the world. She lives with her parents, sister, and any visitors who extend their stay. She spends her days quietly thinking or loudly voicing her profound thoughts hoping someone will understand what she is saying. http://masiejane.wordpress.com/ 
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Guest Writers Resoketswe Manenzhe - Poetry Resoketswe Manenzhe is an engineering graduate and an avid writer, with one of her short stories —Southern Wind, recently accepted for publication in The Kalahari Review. She has completed three manuscripts. In the interest of separating the different genres she writes, she occasionally assumes the pseudonym ‘K. T. Marcus.’ Twitter: @Avatar_Reso
Ashleigh Harvey - Fiction Ashleigh is an aspiring dreamer in all forms of life. She dreams of art, books, social change. She wrote her story very loosely based on her adoption story when she brought home a 6-year-old from the beautiful Uganda.
Frank Orloson - Fiction Frank Orloson was born in California, but then raised in Michigan. He's enjoyed short-stories for years now. Naturally, Frank is very grateful to anyone who has taken the time to read something that he's written. So, right from the horse's mouth: thank you so much!
Clara Dunn - Fiction Clara is sixteen years old. She is about to sit her Scottish Higher exams, and aspires to attend university to study Journalism and Creative Writing in conjunction with Politics. This is her first publication, and she is ecstatic that her writing has been chosen to feature in Bibliophilia. She is honoured that her first submission to the publication has been successful and that her talent has recognised by other writers. She has been writing seriously for about four years now, and hopes this is the beginning of a bright career in writing.
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A Starfish by Frank Orloson
Once, there was a starfish born at the bottom of the ocean. He grew up and found a lady starfish and mated with her; the day she started laying eggs was also the day that he got one arm severed o by a sharp rock, and began to slowly go away. Just before the starfish died, he saw the lady floating up towards the surface, even though she was very close to giving birth. Thus it appeared that his spawn would come into the world as far away from him as possible. Starfishes cannot talk or protest. But, as this bottom-dwelling creature died finally, no struggle or physical resistance could be visibly noted. Once, there were brand new starfishes born not at the top, not at the bottom, but rather in the middle of the ocean. She compromised.
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MINI MASTERCLASS with Elle May GENRE FICTION IS WRITTEN USING SPECIFIC PATTERNS, STYLES AND EMOTIONS: ROMANCE DEMANDS SENSITIVITY; A HORROR MUST BE SCARY; AND A CRIME THRILLER MUST KEEP YOU GUESSING TILL THE END. FAIL TO DELIVER AND YOUR AUDIENCE WILL BE DISAPPOINTED - DELIVER WHAT THEY EXPECT AND YOUR WRITING BECOMES PREDICTABLE. SO YOU NEED TO BREAK THE RULES BY GIVING READERS WHAT THEY WANT, BUT IN A DIFFERENT WAY. FANTASY AND SCI-FI ARE MY FAVOURITE GENRES, THERE ARE NO RULES AND THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS. OVER THE NEXT SIX ISSUES MY MINI-MASTERCLASSES WILL FEATURE A DIFFERENT GENRE AND WRITING TECHNIQUE. FOR FANTASY AND SCI-FI WE WILL CONCENTRATE ON ‘WORLD BUILDING’.
In the Beginning
Make a map
Plan your world before you start, what is the landscape like? Is there water? What kinds of animals live in your world? What’s the weather like? Get to know your world. These things will affect the kind of culture which develops there. Write a scene in which you spend a day and a night in your world. Remember to use all your senses to describe your experience.
Draw a map of your world and some of the cities. If the ‘ographies aren’t your thing find a map of a similar place in this world, there is a diverse geography to choose from. Now change the street/town names, the landmarks, the rivers. Remember countries are not flat packed furniture; they grow from a few settlements to a sprawling civilisation. And not all towns are the same: old port
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towns have defensive narrow winding streets, seaside towns are built for pleasure with wide promenades. Wealth, trade, people, wars, floods, fires all effect how a city evolves. Now throw in some conflict like a war, a natural disaster, a plague of tourists. How would this affect the landscape, the settlements? Now imagine how it would be in thirty years.
Make the rules Now you have an idea of your world, figure out all the details. What are the laws or rules of this world for Society and nature? Is there a class system? Is there religion? What about magic and/or technology? What do people do for leisure, where do they meet up? What do they eat? Impose limits, if everything is possible there is no room for story conflicts.
Don’t forget your characters Your novel is a story to entertain not a Rough Guide to Middle Earth. Sometimes writers get so caught up in their world they forget to ‘write’. To make your world epic you need great writing, dynamic plot and compelling characters. World building is fun but it’s only part of the parcel. Don’t worry if you don’t use every part of your world, its big enough for a whole series of novels!
Play with archetypes Fantasy and sci-fi are full of archetypal characters - dragons, dwarves, barbarians, wizards, elves, displaced monarchs. Pick one, list some characteristics, pick one of those and make your character the opposite. Terry Pratchett was a genius at using this for
comical effect. One of my favourites is Otto, the vampire photographer and his unhealthy obsession with light.
Research Get your facts straight or someone will notice. You don’t need to join the local Mediaeval Re-enactment Society or be a physics expert, but gravity works differently on other planets. A gravity stabilising device may be needed. If your fantasy has swordplay, get to know your samurai from your rapier, it’s the difference from being severed and skewered.
Use familiar ideas Using the familiar can let you concentrate on the story and characters. Twist the familiar around and make it different.
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There’s nothing ‘new’ in JK Rowlings Harry Potter series, but the familiar is mixed up to create something different.
Stick to the rules Your aim is to make an impossible world possible so it is vital your world remains consistent. If you break the rules half way through you will break the suspension of disbelief.
Break the rules Only if it fits comfortably within the plot.
Magic isn’t necessary It’s not always necessary for spells to fly about the place like witches late for the Saturday night Sabbath. Magic can live happily on the edges of the story. George R. R. Martins Game of Thrones is an excellent example of this.
It’s not the End of the World The same applies to sci-fi, a futuristic dystopian society is not compulsory. Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton is a present day sci-fi adventure. I,Robot by Isaac Asimov is a collection of short stories exploring the psychology of artificial intelligence.
Tell don’t show If it’s important information but not vital to the plot then just come out with it and don’t waste time with showy explanations. But be careful not to ‘infodump’, readers don’t like to be lectured and it will interrupt the flow of your story. Tell it quickly and only when required.
World building isn’t just for fantasy and sci-fi, every good novel has a sense of place whether it’s a stormy ocean or a high class hotel. Research the area; sketch a map of the layout. Knowing your setting will add to the believability of your story and help avoid serious plot holes. Fantasy and sci-fi aren’t just impossible worlds; they’re also a reflection of life.
‘If you are going to write, say, fantasy – stop reading fantasy. You’ve already read too much. Read other things: read westerns, read history, read anything that seems interesting, because if you only read fantasy and then you start to write fantasy, all you’re going to do is recycle the same old stuff and move it around a bit’ Sir Terry Pratchett. IN NEXT MONTH’S ISSUE WE WILL BE GETTING ALL LOVED UP WITH ROMANCE AND LOOKING AT THE IMPORTANCE OF A CONVINCING CHARACTER.
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And It Wobbles
By Ashleigh Harvey
I don’t like you. There, it’s out of the way. You think I’m rude saying it, but it’s true. You’re dull and blind, but I know you don’t know get that. Still, I have a story that would be good for you, and remember, I never said I hated you. The story is about a girl named Bete. Its pronounced bet-tea without a pause between, you paused when you said it. I know you think you’re too important to concern yourself with the correct way to pronounce a black orphan in the Congo’s name -- but you’re not. I care how her name is pronounced and since it’s my story you say it like I told you. Bete is beautiful, even though you don’t see it yet. You’re letting her distended belly and the flies swarming around her head cloud your judgment. The flies and those magazines you read. Take my word, I won’t lie - she is beautiful. One more thing that I know you’re going to miss about Bete -- she isn’t hungry. You think she is, because I told you about her belly and now you can picture it, round, un-matching to her flimsy limbs. You’re also supposing she is hungry because earlier, I told you she was black – and you believe all black children in Congo are hungry, even if you didn’t suppose you do. Please, try to understand this very simple thing, Bete is not hungry. See, now you assuming she isn’t hungry because she must have some food to eat– but you’re wrong. I’ll tell you why she isn’t hungry, but then you do your part to keep up with the story or else you’ll get lost. She isn’t hungry because you can’t be cold unless you’ve been hot too. So there Bete is, beautiful and not hungry in the orphanage, and she is playing with a stick. There’s a toy, like a merry-go-round which 11 kids climb on. It’s not strong enough for them, but they climb anyway. Oh, and it wobbles. You need to know that sometimes the kids fall off, and when they do they spank their head on the ground. That’s just how it is. I’ll say too, that when they fall, they never cry. You figure out why they don’t cry – you need to do something here. So, back to Bete. There she is, playing with her stick and minding her own, when one of the kids falls (like I told you, can happen sometimes) and spanks his head. Bete looks at him because she hears the sound, but she’s three - so she doesn’t do anything about it. She just keeps playing with her stick and the boy lays there. The other kids climb on top of him like he is a ladder and they keep playing too. This is when the Mzungo (which means a white person like you) shows up to the orphanage. Please understand that if you aren’t white -- you aren’t Bete either. So I’ll still call you Mzungo, but you shouldn’t be bothered by the name.
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So, the boy is wet with pee and smells like he has crapped himself—which he had--when she see's him and goes to him. She wishes she could pick him up and hold him close to her, but she can’t. She hates herself for it, but she can’t. If this were her story though (which it isn't) she’d never admit that were true. Finally carrying the boy inside, she holds him at arms length, close enough to show she is holding him, but far enough away she won’t get shit on her dress. Bete keeps playing with the stick. The Mzungo yells at the workers for being so lazy, but they just smile. They think to themselves how much they don’t like this Mzungo’s. Mzungo's always suppose they can boss them around because they aren't white like them and they don’t like them at all. One of the workers is tired of the Mzungos yelling and wants her to stop so she changes the boy, cleaning the crap without care from his back. She puts him in a dress and smiles. This makes the Mzungo upset again, and I know it makes you hot too. See, you and the Mzungo don’t get it. The boy doesn’t care if he is in a dress, and you only care because I’m telling you about it now. That, and I you can picture it in your head, and you don’t like the way it looks – an orphan in a crap-stained dress. You didn’t care yesterday though; will you care tomorrow. The Mzungo excuses herself before so she doesn’t cry, leaving the boy inside with the workers and goes back to Bete. One thing you might care to learn, is this Mzungo wants to adopt Bete. She thought it would be a noble thing to do -- adopt a hungry orphan baby from the Congo. That was until she got to the Congo and realized she wasn’t noble at all, she was afraid. Afraid of flies, of un-hungry children and little boys wearing crap-stained dresses. She goes to Bete, who is still playing with the stick, and she says hi and smiles a lot. She touches her on the back, which makes her jump, but she doesn’t pull away. They play awhile with the stick and Bete whacks her on the head a few times. The Mzungo pulls granola out from her purse and she gives it to Bete, who doesn't know what to in the world to do with it. Remember -- she isn’t hungry. The Mzungo shows her how to eat it, and soon she eats it all. Her belly grumbles, and then she too craps her pants. The Mzungo figures she better change Bete herself—since she wants to be her mom and all-- but she still has to hold her breath to clean the liquid-green-granola crap. A little later, 5:00pm, the workers kick out the Mzungo’s out. They do it on account of not wanting to hear her bitch the food the kids are having for dinner. Mzungo’s like you and her bitch a lot, and they don’t like to deal with it. This time, Bete feels funny after dinner. She is hungry, but she doesn’t understand that. Remember – she isn’t hungry. She wishes her Mzungo was there to give her more granola. So while the workers are watching T.V. Bete sneaks outside.
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She goes all over the yard, but can’t find the Mzungo anywhere. That’s when she sees the gates to the orphanage she remembers that her Mzungo always comes in and goes out through those gates. She thinks to herself, that Mzungo is on the other side of the gate, waiting for me with more granola. Except she doesn’t think it like that, because for one she doesn’t speak English, and unless you forgot - she is three. She sees the tree next to the gate, and decides to climb it. If you doubt a three year old in the Congo can’t climb a tree, then you are Mzungo. When she gets to the top she goes to reaches for the gate. There she is, stuck half way between the tree and the gate, her right arm and leg straddling the space in-between when she slips and falls. Here’s an important part of – listen up. When she falls from the gate, thumping to the ground she breaks her leg. I understand you don’t like it, and you wish that wouldn’t have happened, but it did- remember I won’t lie. I know you think it’s silly that the workers don’t know she’s gone, and the Mzungo doesn’t know she wants more candy but they don’t. Maybe you don’t understand what’s what. In the morning when the Mzungo wakes she puts her hair up in a bun and heads to see Bete. The hill to the orphanage is long and steep, and it takes awhile to make it under the Congo sun. When she turns the corner she sees something lying next to the gate. Drawing closer she notices its Bete, and her leg is broken. She cries out, picking up the small girl wet with pee -- would it matter if I told you this time she didn't notice the pee? -- And calls for help. Now -- here is the big part of the story, the climax. I hope by now you've figured out why the kids never cry when they fall from the merry-go-round. As the Mzungo holds Bete, she strokes her hair and whispers into her ear that she will be alright. A tear falls from the Mzungo’s eyes and lands on Bête’s check, and (listen up) Bete cries.
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FIVE MINUTES WITH IN THE FIRST OF OUR INTERVIEWS WITH ‘WRITERS WHO MADE IT’ WE TALK TO SUE MOORCROFT, BESTSELLING AUTHOR AND ‘WRITER’S FORUM’ REGULAR
Tell us a bit about yourself and your background. When people ask me ‘Where do you come from?’, I never know what to say. I was born in Germany, as the child of a British army family, but left when I was six weeks old. We went to Cyprus … which I don’t remember, either. But I spent 4½ of my first 8½ years in Malta, creating my fondest childhood memories. Part of my heart will always be in Malta and my latest book, The Wedding Proposal, is set there.
I always wanted to write and once I had been to college and worked for a bank, I began to make that dream come true with a mixture of courses, books, conferences, magazines, and reading everything I could about writing and publishing, I began to make headway. My first published story was in ‘My Weekly’ in 1996 and, since then, I’ve sold over 150 stories to magazines around the world, 5 serials, a novella and 9 novels. I was the head judge for Writers’ Forum Fiction Competition for several years and wrote a couple of columns a week for them, too; I’ve written three courses for online providers and a ‘how to’ book about writing romantic fiction, ‘Love Writing’.
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First, a few questions about your writing process. Do you work with an outline or just write? I’ve tried both approaches but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the first book I sold (Uphill All the Way, 2004), was the first I planned. At school, we were made to plan the fun right out of writing, so for a while I tried to ‘write into the mist’, but, now, I like to have firm biographies about my central characters, and how others in their lives view them. I like to know what their goals and conflicts are and if I can make the goals conflict, so much the better. I plan a lot by handwriting (some people would call this scribble), as there seems a different ‘big picture’ part of my brain I access with pen in hand. I like A3 pads that I can do sprawling spider diagrams on, and also sticky notes on a wall. As I write, I produce a timeline made up of pieces of A4 stapled together. (Also scribble.) I’m not good at timelines and have to be careful with them. Do you have a dedicated writing space, or can you work anywhere? If you have a writing space, describe it for us. I have a study, and that’s my favourite writing space. It’s a bedroom at the back of my house that overlooks the garden. My desk faces the wall, though, or I’d spend all day gazing at clouds. It’s messy and packed, the floor is sometimes my in-tray. I sometimes plan in another room (the one with the spare wall) but I can work anywhere, when I have to. I have a tablet and keyboard combination and
use it to work on planes or trains, in hotel rooms etc. I like silence or background music, best. What is the hardest thing about writing? And the easiest? The first draft is the hardest. It’s not that I don’t want to do it but there are definite birth pangs. Editing, in comparison, is lovely (so long as I agree with the suggested changes). I love playing with what I’ve already written and making it better. Can you tell us about the challenges in getting your first book published? I wrote two books that were unpublishable, so I decided to do a correspondence course. I also read that if I had a track record of, say, 20 short stories in national newsstand magazines, it would make me more attractive to a publisher of novels, and set out to sell to magazines, first, and had sold 3 by the time I completed the course. Loosely, the strategy worked, although it was 87 short stories and one serial later that my then agent sold ‘Uphill All the Way’ to Transita. It was actually the eighth book I’d written (nobody can say I give up easily) and I’ve since gone back and sold two of the earlier books, used half of one for another, and made one into a serial (neither am I wasteful). What has been the toughest criticism given to you as an author? I have two criticisms in mind, both painful for different reasons. The worst was when my
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then agent told me that she couldn’t handle a particular book because it wasn’t good enough. That’s the only time that writing ever made me cry, but it taught me a lesson about complacency. The other was when a magazine editor returned a story with the comment ‘We need this to be half as long and twice as funny’. That was a bit daunting, so I sold it to a different magazine, instead. Have you ever written something you loved but it never got published? All. The. Time. What did you do with it? Sometimes I rewrote, sometimes sold somewhere else, sometimes adapted. And some of it is still on my SSD. What was the point when you realised being an author was no longer a dream but your career? I began to write seriously when I was at home with my kids and, as they got older, I got correspondingly more time to write. The more I could write, the more I could send out, the more I sold. I suppose a crux came about 9 years ago when someone in my household had a business issue that meant I had to either go and get a proper job or make writing pay more. I became more feeaware at that time. This led me to writing some nonfiction that paid, rather than it being what I wanted to do, but lots of things in
a creative career end up being a trade-off. I hope that after I’ve finished writing my current course I’ll be able to write fiction only. (Fingers crossed.) Which books/authors inspire you? Is there a book you wish you had written? Nevil Shute’s ‘A Town Like Alice’ was the first non-children’s book I read and I fell in love with his writing. I think the fact my late father liked Nevil Shute reinforced the emotional attachment – we used to share a collection (which I now have). Of contemporary writers, I’m a huge fan of Katie Fforde, Jill Mansell, Christina Courtenay, Suzanne Brockmann, Linda Howard, Jill Shalvis … There’s a long list. I wish I’d written Suzanne Brockmann’s ‘Gone Too Far’. She writes romantic suspense on a global stage and I’m awed by how brave she is in the scope of her plots. Finally, some quick-fire questions for you. Chocolate or vanilla? Chocolate. Cats or dogs? Dogs. Summer or winter? Summer.
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Tea or coffee? Tea. City or country? Both. E-reader or print book? Both. Reading or writing? Both. (Sorry, can’t choose!)
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Poetry Corner A Song from Leonard By Resoketswe Manenzhe As we danced I saw the water in her eyes and knew it would have the taste of salt. She smiled and kissed my cheek. The flame she lit on my face burnt in my heart. Yet I knew the sea would fall from her eyes. Ah, the sea, it wrinkled my desire, slew my lust, it spoiled her paint and changed her mask. She would not be a woman, not again, neither wife nor lover, her mystery still riddles me Was she beautiful—a man may appraise her and weep. Her beguiling charm departed with the rising sun and in the morning I only found her ruined. The moon had taken her mystery and pull. All that lay before me was coal: black and cold. Did she light the night fire only to turn to ash? And her eyes, was it the sea I saw, or heaven? Or was it only hell reflected in the sky? Was Marianne even her true name, or just a call meant only for the night?
Earth hath not anything to show more fair by Josie Alford
Earth hath not anything to show more fair There is no one alive who could pass by Without declaring its awesome beauty, The sea doth now a shining garment wear The sky’s embrace of imperfections bare Fields, grasses, headlands, seashore and sand lie Giving way to the sea and to the sky; There is perfection in the misted air. Never did the sun more beautifully steep Anywhere on earth, city, dome or mill Never have I felt a peace so deep The ocean surges with a powerful will. Behind me the whole nation is asleep Before me the expanse never lies still. PAGE FIFTEEN
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Book Of The Month
Women and Children First by Gill Paul Published by Avon, RRP £7.99
ISBN 9781847563252
Reviewer Richard Southworth reads about the still harrowing horror of Titanic, the ‘unsinkable’ ship April 2012 marked the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the RMS Titanic. It’s a historical event with multiple layers and incredible story-telling potential, and has already been used in such a way countless times in the past century; indeed, I even used it for a Camp NaNoWriMo. The 100th anniversary alone inspired a re-release of the James Cameron film, a TV drama by Julian Fellowes, multiple documentaries, and even a few novels. One of these was Gill Paul’s Women and Children First. The story follows three central characters, all beginning the story onboard the Titanic: steward Reg Parton; first class passenger Lady Juliette Mason-Parker, who
is pregnant with an illegitimate baby; and third class Irish immigrant Annie McGeown. Despite the Titanic story already having been told over and over again, Paul still manages to put a fresh spin on things by doing what most books and films don’t – and paying the most attention to what happened afterwards. The Titanic itself sinks about a third of the way through the novel’s length; the sinking, rather than being the backdrop for the story, is turned into more of an instigating factor. Following the disaster, we continue to follow Reg, Juliette and Annie, as they all struggle to cope with the consequences. Paul does very well in presenting her characters as real, believable people. They all have clear motivations in life, and we get to see them going about authentic, day-to-day activities, particularly while onboard the Titanic. Reg is the character we spend the most time with, and goes
Paul still manages to put a fresh spin on things by doing what most books and films don’t - paying attention to what happened after
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through easily the most interesting journey. The sinking leaves him in emotional torment – Paul highlights in an author’s note that many Titanic survivors clearly suffered from posttraumatic stress disorder even though the term did not yet exist – and while he makes some questionable decisions once in America, the reader can understand the train of thought in his troubled mind. Also central to Reg’s plotline is an intriguing mystery involving a couple in first class, which even leads to a brief action scene in the story’s latter stages. Juliette’s story arc is not quite as interesting, possibly because it’s a bit too straightforward and goes in fairly predictable directions. The conflict she goes through has more to do with the complications of her shameful pregnancy than the effect of the disaster. Annie seems to get less focus than the other two main characters; like Reg, she ends up having to deal with loss, and her story arc goes down some peculiar directions. It even features a few supernatural elements which seem ambiguous at first, but later appear more legitimate, which doesn’t really fit with the rest of the story.
The prose is simple and very readable, and Paul also ensures that her characters are properly connected – Reg has direct contact with both Juliette and Annie – which increases the overall cohesiveness. I was also very impressed with the historical detail; Paul has clearly done a lot of research on both the Titanic and the time period, down to the tiles on the bathroom floors. When following Reg, the reader gets a real feel of what it was like for somebody in his line of work; both the responsibilities and difficulties of the job. There are references to current events for the time, and the details are incorporated naturally into the characters’ perspectives, rather than Paul forcing them in to show the reader how much research she’s done. Women and Children First is definitely recommended for anyone who’s interested in the Titanic, as it really does feel like a different kind of story. But even general readers should enjoy it, taking it as a story about living your life – or trying to – in the wake of a major upheaval.
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He Sits on the Sand by Clara Dunn The boy had grown up out on the wild cliffs of the coast, his feet familiar with the beaten tracks that lead up to the rough green expanses that coated the tops of the resistant headlands like icing on a cake. Among his favourite sites was a pygmy bay; he got a bit of a rush every time he slid down the thin steep gradient of the path that led down to its small, sandy beach. It was an out-of-the-way spot, seldom visited, and it offered him a tranquil recess to the kaleidoscopic nature of his family, the repetitive scenes which rolled into one another and never seemed to end, a relentless clamour that rang perpetually in his ears. On this particular day it’s been Baltic, and wrapped in just a hoodie, t-shirt and jeans he sits shivering on the sand, his battered Converse digging into the chilly, wet sand. He curls into himself, his arms wrapped around his knees, his chin resting on his forearms, jaw set, eyes stonily staring off into the distance, the choppy sea. He remains unflinching in the face of the forceful waves that flow towards him, fighting to reach further and further up the sloping beach. His heart thumps as he leans back on the sand, and closes his eyes, remembering the times he played with his brother on this beach, and the time they’d both been caught off-guard by the tide – his brother swept away with the waves, struggling against the merciless sea; it was not a fight that he won. It’s an event that still hangs over his conscious, the reasons he comes back, seeking solace with the sea and the embrace of the salty sea spray. But the boy that sits on the sand, he’s as seaworthy as his brother, and not much of a swimmer. As he lies back, drifting off to sleep on the sand,
the tide flows in, up and up and up. His knees are submerged, then his waist, now his chest, his neck, and his head, all now submarine. Up on the cliff, a Puffin rests comfortably in her nest and looks down at the boy as the sea begins to take him, and at the peaceful smile playing on his lips – blissfully unaware the arms of Death are coming. The tide reaches the rocks and he rises from the seabed, bobbing to the surface like cork dropped by a Fisherman. His eyes snap open, he struggles against the pull of the water and opens his mouth to scream, only to allow a few mouthfuls of nauseating seawater to infiltrate his mouth, trickle down his throat and make him gag, pulled under the water for a few seconds, before floating back to surface again. An icy chill sets into his bones as he looks back over his shoulder, and sees the cliffs but no beach, far in the distance. His weary eyes slip shut, and he prepares himself for death as he feels his conscious dissolve, unravelling as he’s pulled down underwater, and hangs in eerie suspense, drowning without fight, just like his brother – save for the pale, shrivelled hand poking above the waves. There was no lifeboat to execute a nick-of-time rescue, no tugboat Captain to see the pale hand poking above the black waves. His lifeless body was taken by the undertow, borne away by the currents that no-one saw or felt; his body was too full with darkness, too full with grief to stay afloat, even in death. He was dragged down to the icy depths; his unconscious eyes staring up at the ever farther away surface, ready to be consigned to spend eternity in Davy Jones’s Locker.
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Dover Beach by Matthew Arnold A Close Reading by Josie Alford In her second in a series of close poetry readings, Josie looks at Matthew Arnold’s ‘Dover Beach’, a medley of genres and a dip into melancholy This month I am doing a close reading of Matthew Arnold’s “Dover Beach”. Arnold’s style of writing seems to straddle both the genres and time frames of Romanticism and Modernism; combining pastoral Romantic imagery and the melancholic Modernist views on contemporary social issues. Whilst he may not be as famous as Victorian poets such as Tennyson or Browning, critics often turn to Arnold as his poetry represents the intellectual history of the time; particularly the erosion of faith by doubt. Though it was published in 1867, compilation is most likely as early as 1851 when he honeymooned in Dover. The sound of the sea seems melancholic to him and he is reminded of human misery and the recession of faith. The first line is a simple sentence with short and clear words; “The sea is calm tonight.” Arnold centres the image of the sea at night from the beginning of the poem and sets the tone for the rest of it. The next line goes on to tell us that its high tide and “the moon lies fair”. Here is the first example of enjambment (when a sentence or clause continues beyond the end of the line without pause) which
Arnold uses to build momentum through the poem. There is a split second when the reader gets to the end of this line and thinks that is the end of the phrase, but then on the next line we learn that “the moon lies fair / upon the straits”. An important theme in this poem is the antithesis of light and dark, as the speaker looks out over the sea the light on the French coast “gleams and is gone” whereas the “cliffs of England stand / Glimmering and vast”. It is possible to argue that the French coast falling into darkness is a metaphor for Arnold’s views on the political turmoil in France at the time (1851 is the year Napolean created the Second French Empire with himself as dictator). In contrast, Dover’s iconic cliffs stand glimmering and strong and unchanging. In line 6 we learn that the speaker is not alone, he is stood at a window looking out and calls his lover to him for “sweet is the night air!” Thus far, the image is calm and “tranquil” however at lines 7-8 the speaker shifts our focus; “Only, from the long line of spray / Where the sea meets the moon blanch’d land”. The word “only” serves to
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break up the rhythm and indicate the change in tone. The land is now “blanch’d” or bleached as opposed to glimmering as it was before. Line 9 is the only line that does not rhyme with anything else in the stanza; “Listen! You hear the grating roar” – it an example of form reflecting the content as the “roar” grates with the rest of the poem by not rhyming. It is also the first example of auditory imagery which contrasts with the supposedly calming visual imagery of the first few lines. We learn that the “grating roar” is caused by the pebbles being thrown around by the waves. The process repeats; “Begin and cease, and then again begin” it is a recognisable image that possesses and inevitable quality – waves will continue to batter coastlines all over the world. It is this thought that is important throughout the rest of the poem. The final two lines of the stanza turn the auditory imagery musical “With tremulous cadence slow, and bring / the eternal note of sadness in.” The word cadence is synonymous with rhythm; the trembling rhythm of the sea is mingled with the flowing rhythm of the poem. The rhythm produces a note of sadness, any remnants of tranquillity from the earlier lines are now gone, the sound of the world is musical and sad, not only that – it is eternal. The second stanza begins with a
literary allusion; “Sophocles long ago / Heard it on the Aegean”. This shows Arnold’s strong intellectual link with the past, particularly the Ancient Greeks. Enjambment continues to play a significant role as this six line stanza is one full sentence, by referring to Sophocles and himself in the same sentence the speaker strengthens the link between them because they both hear the sound of the sea. For Sophocles the sound “brought / Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow / Of human misery”. The word “turbid” can be used to describe liquid as cloudy and opaque, however is can also mean confused or obscure in meaning or effect, thus “turbid” could be referring to both the sea and human nature si1multaneously. Famous for his Greek Tragedies, it is not suprising that Sophocles would think of humanity as opposed to the speaker who is reminded of spiritual sadness. The fact that the “we” is placed before a line break makes it stand out to the reader and making the link between the speaker and Sophocles all the more apparent. The
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speaker places himself “by this distant northern sea” which then serves to separate them both geographically and across time, but they find their similarities in their thoughts about the sea. The first line “The Sea of Faith” makes clear the subject of the stanza 3 will be a metaphor for religion. The words are capitalised and set on a line by themselves to show their importance, it is also conventionally used in the bible when talking about god. This metaphoric sea was once “at the full” or high tide just like the literal English Channel, the past tense implies that religion and faith are no longer such an important part of people’s lives. Arnold then describes the metaphorical sea with a simile: “lay like the folds of a bright girdle”. It could be taken that faith surrounds the world in light just like this bright girdle, without it we are left on “the naked shingles of the world” in the final line of the stanza. Again this stanza uses auditory imagery; the speaker can hear faith retreating from the world by “its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar”. The roar is repeated from the first stanza, but instead of “grating” the description is mournful and
sorrowful. In the final stanza the speaker draws us back to the original scene in the room looking out over the channel by calling to his lover: “Ah, love, let us be true / To one another!” We go from learning about the fate of the entire world to this intimate scene of just two people. The enjambment causes us to pause after “true” so at first he seems to be talking in about integrity or being true to the faith he was discussing earlier. But the next line reveals “to one another”, implying he means a much smaller intimate kind of faith between the two of them. He goes on to talk about the world; “which seems / To lie before us like a land of dreams, / So various, so beautiful, so new”. Note the word “seems”, it looks to be positive but isn’t in reality; the fact that it rhymes with the next line “land of dreams” furthers the implication that this tranquil world before them isn’t real. The list of adjectives and repetition of “so” layers up what the world “seems” to be and is mirrored by the repetition of “nor” in the next two lines. Besides, we get the impression that the world is not “new” at all from his reference to Sophocles and his reference to the “eternal note of sadness” and the “long withdrawing roar” of faith. In reality the world; “Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, / Nor certitude, nor peace, not help for pain”. The speaker has lost his faith of the earlier stanza and through listing dispenses of each of these things one by one. Instead of the light described at the beginning of the poem, the speaker and his lover “are here as on a darkling plain”, they are stuck in the dark without any certainty, not only that but they are in
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a battlefield: “swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, / Where ignorant armies clash by night.” Arguably, the speaker could be referring to humanity without fate – confused and running away in the dark, accidentally clashing with people they can’t see or understand. However I would argue that the speaker is again referring to the sea and the land as the “ignorant armies” who know not why they fight, they just continue to do so in a note of eternal sadness. So then, if Arnold is considered to be a bridge between Romanticism and Modernism this poem could be seen as a symbol for this journey; beginning with a Romantic pastoral image of the sea and ending with the image of the couple clinging to each other in a dark and confusing world. According to the speaker faith has receded from the world leaving it in a nightmarish state, but rather than descending into despair he calls for his lover so they can maintain a small amount of faith in each other. When I started planning for this article I wasn’t sure if I liked this poem, the deeper I’ve studied it the more appreciate this poem; so he may not be as popular as other Victorian poets, and yes this poem is pretty dark but it is also pretty romantic in a twisted sort of way.
Dover Beach
by Matthew Arnold The sea is calm tonight. The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay. Come to the window, sweet is the night-air! Only, from the long line of spray Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land, Listen! you hear the grating roar Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling, At their return, up the high strand, Begin, and cease, and then again begin, With tremulous cadence slow, and bring The eternal note of sadness in. Sophocles long ago Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow Of human misery; we Find also in the sound a thought, Hearing it by this distant northern sea. The Sea of Faith Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled. But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear And naked shingles of the world. Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night.
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WHAT WE'RE PLANNING Mac With a new career starting in September my present and future is focused on planning everything - from money, savings, work and the magazine. I’m looking forward to beginning a new chapter in my life, and hoping (desperately at times) I’ll be able to juggle all the things that need to be up in the air at the same time!
The Sea conjures images of exotic destinations and far off lands, of adventures and excitement yet to come. Our contributors tell us of their
Elle May It’s this time of year when the wanderlust grabs me by the hand and pulls me through the front door. I’m planning a road trip through France, Italy and Switzerland with the family, an invasion of the Seven Kingdoms with Queen Daenerys, a dinosaur safari at Jurassic park, spend a few weeks in Discworld and then another jaunt across Europe with Graham Greene’s Auntie. Apparently she’s hilarious.
upcoming plans, both literary and otherwise.
Clara I intend to continue writing and submitting regularly to writing magazines and competitions in order to raise the profile of my work in the writing community. I am currently waiting to hear back from two separate competitions and another two submissions to magazines in the coming months.
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Josie On the day the last Bibliophilia came out, I passed my driving test and I recently got my very first car! I'm not so sure about far off lands but I'm going to start driving to work. Literary plans are less clear, apart from eagerly consuming everything my local library has to offer!
Ashleigh The sea is one of the greatest mirrors we have of life. It can swallow you whole or let you splash your feet by the shore. My hope is that sometimes soon the tides of life take me to a place where powerful stories are born, and that -- if it is kind enough -- it carries me to another great love story, another adoption.
Resoketswe Richard My biggest plans at the moment involve an upcoming volunteer trip to Guatemala: it’s my second trip to the country, and will involve surveying a relatively unexplored area of cloud forest for wildlife – very exciting! Not long after that, I’m going on a short trip to London – trying to decide what to fit in for that. Then in July comes Camp NaNoWriMo: I’ve got an idea for what my story will be about, but still need to put the structure together.
I am currently working as a process engineering trainee at a cement-producing company. I am writing my second book, which is a fantasy novel, and in the process of trying to get my first book—a sci-fi novel currently titled The Shell Shocked, agented and published. One of my short stories—Southern Wind, has been accepted for publication in The Kalahari Review.
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