Scribble #20

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THE WELLBEING ISSUE 20

Summer 2016

Creative Writing & Arts Magazine

Scribble Magazine

HELLO! Scribble is part of the Tell Us Another One creative writing project run by Cartwheel Arts in the North West of England.

The project operates in the Greater Manchester Boroughs of Rochdale, Bury and Oldham and is funded by Big Lottery and supported by each borough respectively.

We run monthly creative writing groups for adults in locations around the three boroughs considered to be in need of cultural provision.

These groups are free and open to everyone with no previous experience of creative writing needed. You don’t need to have perfect grammar or for your first language to be English.

If you’re interested in creative writing and would like to work with professional writers and meet other people in your area, your local Tell Us Another One group is waiting to welcome you.

Scribble Magazine c/o Tell Us Another One Cartwheel Arts 110 Manchester Street Heywood OL10 1DW Telephone 01706 361 300 Editor Paul Stanley paul@cartwheelarts.org.uk www.tellusanotherone.org

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Printed by Olympic Press www.olympicpress.co.uk Scribble is published four times a year by Cartwheel Arts. All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or part without written permission is strictly prohibited.

Hello, and welcome to issue 20 of Scribble. Cartwheel Arts publishes Scribble as a platform for writers hailing from the Greater Manchester boroughs of Rochdale, Oldham, Bury and Middleton. For those of you who know Scribble well you’ll have noticed that we’ve had a bit of a spring clean for the new issue. Like any good twenty-something we’ve decided to try a new look. We hope you like it!

We’ve taken ‘wellbeing’ as the theme for this issue and we think you’ll agree there’s been an impressive range of responses. Wellbeing is the general term for the condition of an individual or group. Our writers have looked at it in relation to their social, economic, psychological, or spiritual state. It can be about how we relate to our family, our friends or to the wider society. Submissions were selected by Manchester-based poet and social worker, Annie Clarkson.

Alongside our usual submissions we have a short story written by Michelle Green. As well as being a published writer Michelle will be leading our new creative writing groups, one for the LGBT community at Middleton Library and another for all-comers at Fitton Hill Library.

We have interviews with artist Annie Clarkson and Cartwheel Arts wellbeing worker, Stacey Coughlin. Jim Hinks talks about Comma Press’ exciting new project MacGuffin, an online anthology of spoken word creative writing and Danielle Porter reviews our recent International Women’s Day event at ALL FM. We are also very pleased to have photographs by the talented Manchester-based photographer Rebecca Lupton. Rebecca will be continuing to visit and document our creative writing workshops throughout 2016.

Paul Stanley Editor

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Robin is a member of the Langley Writers, a group who meet monthly in Middleton. For more portraits of the group by Rebecca Lupton, turn to page 16 for our new Meet the Writers feature.

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Annie Clarkson: Finding My Inner Ferret

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Stacey Coughlin: Visual Ownership

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Michelle Green: Spring Tide

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Meet the Writers: Langley

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Selected Submissions

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International Women’s Day: ALL FM

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Jim Hinks: The MacGuffin Device

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HOW TO FIND YOUR INNER FERRET

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Issue 20 of Scribble is looking at wellbeing. As a Social Worker do you find the subject has had an impact on your writing?

Yes, my own wellbeing and the wellbeing of those around me has a big impact on my writing. The characters in my short fiction tend to have difficulties around their emotional wellbeing or at the very least experience life in a way that tests their wellbeing and I don’t shy away from the difficulties that we can all encounter in life. My prose poems often have some kind of emotional dilemma or state at their core. Those are the issues that most interest me as a reader and a writer.

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You were born in East Lancashire and live in Manchester. Do you feel a strong connection to the area in your work? Have you as a writer benefited, or been disadvantaged by being based in the North West?

My roots are important to me and my writing has a strong sense of my northern voice. Whether others recognise it or not, most of the geography in my writing is northern, whether that be the cotton mills in East Lancashire where I grew up; areas of Manchester where I live now; or lakes and forests in Cumbria where I was born. My writing is full of cobbles, red bricks and mill chimneys; and the people in my writing are all very northern. I can’t imagine setting my writing anywhere else; or if I did the characters would travel from the North West and bring the geography and culture with them into that different place. I think the North West has been good to me as a writer whether that be publishing opportunities with Comma Press based in Manchester; collaborative projects with Lancaster Litfest and Flax Books; writing groups, workshops and literature festivals, and having the chance to read in venues around Cumbria, Lancashire and Manchester. There is a rich community of writers and artists up here, and I have never felt disadvantaged.

Annie Clarkson is a Manchester based poet and creative writer who helped pick the submissions for issue 20 of Scribble. We spoke to her about her work, being a poet from the North West and what that means to her.

Do you feel a part of a wider culture, or scene, of contemporary Northern writers?

Yes. There is a great culture of contemporary Northern writers. I used to meet regularly with other writers at readings, at workshops and socially, and I have good connections with writers around the North West through being involved in various events. More recently, I’ve chosen not to be as

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involved. But, those connections are still there, just a message away and I value that there is such a brilliant network of creative people around.

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Are there any particular writers from the North, past or present, you especially admire?

I admire many Northern writers: Ray Robinson, Jenn Ashworth, David Constantine, Thomas Fletcher, Rosie Garland, Andrew Hurley, Michelle Green, Graham Mort. The list goes on and on to be honest.

Your writing style in Winter Hands is very straightforward and direct, especially in your use of language, it gives your poetry a strong voice. What advice would you give to aspiring writers to help them develop their own voices?

The most important step in finding my voice was going on a ‘Beginning to Write’ course with the Arvon Foundation. It was five days where I immersed myself in writing: met and talked with other writers, responded to writing exercises, listened to readings, took on board suggestions of poetry and fiction to read, and most importantly was encouraged.

I surprised myself with writing that I didn’t know was inside me, and I think the key was that I wasn’t trying to be anything other than myself. I wrote a poem called ‘Finding my Inner Ferret’, which sums up what that week was about for me. So, my advice is this. Find the time to write. Find opportunities to write with other people, whether this be a writing group, a writing workshop or class or holiday. Listen to feedback and try out others’ suggestions. Read, and work out what you like to read. And just write. Practice a lot. And be yourself when you write. Be at home with what you are writing before you try and push it in different directions.

Write in ways that excite and interest you, because that will surely come across to a reader.

Would you say it is important to work with others, through writing groups and course and so on?

It’s important for me to work with others. I’ve collaborated with a number of writers and artists and it brought new ideas and perspectives to my writing. It’s not what all writers choose to do, but I would say it’s been enriching for me, enjoyable and an important part of my writing life.

For beginners and those starting out it can really help. — (S) S cr i b b l e

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Stacey Coughlin is an artist and facilitator who works with Cartwheel Arts on our Art for Wellbeing programme. When we caught up with Stacey she told us a little about what working with ‘wellbeing’ means to her and the impact it has on creating her own art work.

Hello Stacey, can you tell us a little about the work you do with Cartwheel Arts and what led you to this?

Hello. I’ve worked with Cartwheel Arts since 2009 in a variety of roles as artist/facilitator and I co-ordinated a visual art project working with older people in Heywood with two of my colleagues; Elaine and Jodie.

My main role currently is as an Emotional Support Worker, which I developed and have been working on since 2011.

As a qualified counsellor I use counselling skills to help members within an art group setting help themselves; exploring with them any issues they wish to share and their approach to creativity.

I have always known I wanted to work within this sphere of Arts and

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Wellbeing and so my studies led me first to Fine Art, then Counselling and Teaching. I feel all these qualities fit together in communicating and working with other people creatively.

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How does this work fit into the idea of ‘wellbeing’ and your wider practice?

My main interest is working with people creatively. I believe the process of creativity is both important for wellbeing but also the idea of ‘artistic behaviour’ as a common need for us all. This can be for expression, shared goals, identity and/or the physical process of making.

I feel quite privileged for members to share their work during the group; watching these ideas develop and grow from sketches to final exhibitions.

Within a counselling context, it can be extremely rewarding using the shared language of art and visual mediums to explore personal work.

I am really interested in what motivates people first to start creative activities, as well as ultimately those potential barriers to engagement and my wider practice and research are exploring these areas; specifically in care homes working with people living with dementia.

One of these barriers I believe can be environment and space, which is what my own art practice explores in different ways; including what the ‘essence’ of a Space may be, the ideas of ‘visual ownership’ and how our own inner worlds can affect our surroundings.

As an artist do you find it helps to work with others? Do you think collaboration is an important part of what you do?

Yes, I feel that collaboration is an important dialogue which can occur at many levels. Working with individuals, part of the process is establishing how best to support people, after all, they are their own best experts and it involves you both working together.

Within my own arts practice I have been a part of an artist’s co-operative for over 10 years – and coming from Rochdale I have a real affinity for the principles of Co-operation!

Working with another artist during sessions I feel is really useful as you collaborate together to develop members, the group as a whole and us both as practitioners. Also, this fits well within the supportive structure of the Arts for Wellbeing team which I feel is something quite unique at Cartwheel Arts. — (S)

DATA ART: The Ripple Effect Created by Stacey Coughlin for the IMPACT: Generate and Demonstrate Conference

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SPRING TIDE Michelle Green

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here’s a sink that juts out from the wall as you walk in, the opposite of the one in the bathroom next door, and it’s covered in shells and stones and feathers and trolls, a plumbed grotto, sacred spring to the gods of seven year. It’s Sam’s favourite part of her bedroom, the sink. Makes it feel like a flat, like she’s a grown up. ‘Come into the kitchen, take a seat’, she mimes passing out invisible cups of tea. If you’re a grown up and you want to sort something out, you need a kettle and a sink. Oh, and a table.

Other side of the room is the window that shakes in its frame, magnolia gloss peeling off the wood. In the shadow below sits a small pile of books that she hasn’t read in ages, baby books, and they’re covered in a scarf to make the table.

Her bed’s in the middle. At night she leaves the curtains open so that the streetlight shines in and makes everything yellow and grey. It lights up most of the room so she can see the outlines, but there’s one spot in the corner that’s always dark. Not dark like a normal corner, but dark like someone’s standing there. Floating. It’s the Lady. Her feet don’t reach the ground, and that’s how you can tell she’s a ghost. The Lady doesn’t do anything, she just stays there all night, and she’s not scary. This is her room too.

Right outside the window, the back path turns off from the house and goes out to the fence and the gate. From there it goes to the field and then it stops being a proper path and it turns into one of those ones that’s made from everyone walking there all the time. It gets muddy when it rains.

Some of the sand is in the grass, mixed up with the dirt.

The made-up path goes over the hill and then on the other side is the beach. When she was little, she thought it was a huge hill, a mountain, but now it’s just normal.

She waits till they’ve all gone to bed and then waits a bit longer, and then once it’s been quiet for a long time, she pushes the window up and holds it carefully on each side so it doesn’t squeak, like she practiced.

The path’s right there. She climbs through the window and then pulls her nightie back down. It’s easy getting out.

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living room are upstairs and the bedrooms are downstairs, but it’s better that way. It’s better to be up in the sky in the daytime so you can see the sea and the fairground and the other end of the road, and then at night time you can be near the ground, like all the animals are. It’s easier to go for walks that way.

Tonight the moon is full and it’s very bright outside, night-time bright.

The grass is prickly on top of the hill and she gets scratches on her legs as she walks through. The sand is cool on her feet. It feels nice.

‘These things are as tough as leather sandals!’, Dad would say, and he’d slap the soles of her feet the way you slap a dog on its side to tell it it’s a good dog, hard and gentle at the same time. ‘You could walk hot coals with these.’ She’d narrow her eyes like a dog does, sleepy eyes, and pretend to be floppy so he’d do it some more. Sometimes he would.

She saw someone walk hot coals once. Tony Slack, from the other side of the island. He was always doing things like that, dangerous brave things. He pulled the old train carriage with his teeth once, the one that Grandma T lives in, before it was her house. They were moving it along the old bit of track that just stops in the field and he did it the last bit of the way, pulled it with just his teeth to where it is now. Everyone gave him money. Same when he walked on the coals on the beach. He did all those kinds of things. He wasn’t in the circus, he just did it on his own with no clowns or anything. When the holidaymakers come in the summer he’s out every day on the field next to the fairground, sometimes the beach.

They always want to give him money when he does those scary things, but in the winter he’s like everyone else and he stays home.

Once, Dad was talking on the phone at night after bedtime, and Sam heard through the door. Dad called Tony Slack a f. b. ‘Tony Slack’s a f. b.’, that’s what he said. You’re not supposed to say that, but sometimes people do. She didn’t know who Dad was talking to, but he put the phone down and then him and Mum shouted at each other instead and in the morning Dad was gone. Mum didn’t say anything. It was just like everything was the same, but it wasn’t, because at the end of the day Dad didn’t come back.

Mum said he was doing a job up in London, and then the next day Grandma T said he wasn’t, he was visiting his friend who wasn’t very well, but then the day after that they both said the same, together: that he was fishing. They said he was fishing on his friend’s boat because he promised a man that he would. He really had to, it was that kind of promise. I don’t know if Tony Slack was there too but he might have been because nobody

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saw him after that. Dad had to fish until after the end of summer, so until then, Mum would run the bingo instead and Grandma T would take care of Sam. It was two weeks until the end of summer, and then more until after.

Maybe four. A lot of fishing. Sam sat at her bedroom table and talked about it each night with the Lady and even though the Lady never said anything back, she listened and they figured it out together.

That’s how she’s outside tonight, her hard feet cool on the path, the moon making the world silver white. It’s the spring tide, extra high. Sam remembered it from before and asked Grandma T because she knows things like that, about the sea, and if there’s going to be a bad storm.

‘Oh yes, that’ll be the day my love, but don’t you worry. I’ll put you to bed in a little boat that night.’

It only happens sometimes, before the summer and then after the summer. It’s called spring not because of springtime but because it’s bouncy. What happens is the moon gets so big and the wind so strong that they bring the tide in very fast and it bounces up high and washes the bridge out. It covers the car park too, and then across Creek Road, into the pub, and all the tiny fishes and see-through crabs end up swimming all over the street. The biggest waves crash over Grandma T’s train house so she has to put the boards over the windows and door and stay with us. For a few hours, the island is a real island – no bridge, and no way out except for boats, not until the sea goes down again.

This is when she’ll find him. It’s the best time. When the waves come in with the moon. The sea will be extra high and she can walk out for a long way before it reaches the end of her nightie, get a really good look at the water, at what’s out there, at the little lights on the water bobbing like the fairground, like hot coals crackling, knowing one of them’s the boat where her Dad will catch fish till the very end of summer. — (S) Michelle Green is a British-Canadian writer and performer. Her short story collection, Jebel Marra, was published by Comma Press in 2015, and she has published one collection of poetry.

Michelle works with new and experienced writers to make poetry, life writing, artist books, and short performances. She’s written about topics like mental health, crap jobs, and war, as well as love, lust, and pancakes, and she’s got an ongoing obsession with maps.

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M eet t he W r it er s

M e e t the Write r s

MEET THE WRITERS LANGLEY WRITERS

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Our new feature will focus on the people that attend the groups in our Tell Us Another One project.

This issue we visited Langley Writers, who meet every third Thursday at the Demesne Community Centre in Middleton. Langley Writers are an independent group, run by the writers themselves, which grew out of Tell Us Another One. For full times and listings of our writing groups please see the back cover.

Terza

Photographs by Rebecca Lupton

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Freda

Clockwise: Carol, Julia, Katie, John

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“It’s always a pleasure to work with Langley Writers. They’re a fun, talented and committed group who always come up with some really good work. For our recent session I led a workshop on the “gregueria” poetic form which generated some great lines from a new angle. I hope to be back to work with them again soon!” — Tony Walsh

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Clockwise: Steve, John, Carol, Anne

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Great Lines

Love Myself

Selected by Danielle Porter

Attiya Malik Edited by Anjum Malik

I do not like to go into a quiet room With a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on From TODAY by Maliha Parween

I cannot contemplate this nebulous nirvana

She holds me close hugging Before taking off her coat

I have to love myself enough To say no In a positive and kind way

From LIFE by Zohra Ahmed Translated by Anjum Malik

I have to love myself enough To stop and control Myself to handle a situation

I can envisage this porthole of time, hazy not clearly Still, it makes me smile

I fall short. I am a failure.

I am anxiety personified.

From a poem by Karen A Porter

From WELL BEING by Kath Procter

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I have to love myself enough To realise I give them good advice I have to love myself enough To help My friends and my family I have to love myself enough To be calm And support others I have to love myself enough To love All I do for others and for me

They looked after me They loved me I am very lucky

Especially my mum Who has become Forgetful these last six years

From a poem by Zahida Beg

From MY WELLBEING by Andrea King

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I have to love myself enough

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WELLBEING! Frances Arden Edited by Anjum Malik

A nice meal with a glass of wine A walk in the countryside A weekend break A new outfit A trip to the hairdressers

Doing a good turn For a friend or a neighbour Or smiling at a stranger Anything that takes you away From the mundane, everyday

Wellbeing is different things To different people It’s something that takes us away From the ordinary To something wonderful

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Anything new and different Is like an adrenaline rush It kickstarts the brain synapses And lifts the spirits.

Playing a musical instrument Writing a story That grabs the imagination A means to express oneself Being part of a group A choir or a club Adds to a person’s wellbeing Dancing makes the body lighter And takes you to a place Where you can fly Watching a great film Or reading a good book Feeds the soul

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Shahida Parveen Translated from Urdu by Shamshad Khan

Shellah Tassab

It was the month of Ramadam We were worshiping at my mother-in-law’s They finished in the afternoon I was in my home Suddenly I had a thought that I should go there Go see if they have finished the work When I arrived there they had left but there was a lot of mess in the house My mother-in-law did not ask for help, I just started to clean up I couldn’t believe myself where I get all the strength and courage In my own house to move even a small thing I need help But there I had moved such a heavy cupboard By myself I put them in place When I finished the work and I saw the happiness in my mother-in-law’s face That I can’t express the joy in me that arose from her expression From here I tell of a story told by the prophet. Once someone asked our prophet, “what is sin and what is a good deed?”

He said, “a good deed is that which, when you do it, it brings a good feeling in your heart. And sin is something that makes your heart knock with guilt”

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I drink water all the time It calms me down when I’m angry It makes me feel better when I’m sad It makes me feel better when I’m not well It helps me in so many different ways

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I love the taste of water I love the way cold water runs down my throat into my chest and then my stomach When I pay attention to it, it makes me relaxed and calm Looking at running water calms me too It has been cold lately and I wasn’t drinking as much water as before That’s when I noticed what happens when I drink less water My hands and my face start to get dry and itch My lips are very dry too I started to get these spots on my face too I’m angry a lot more too As I realise that it’s happening because I’m not drinking enough water I started drinking more water and noticed the difference in a couple of days Not as many headaches either now

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Well Being (A Losing Game) Phil Barling

As a child, the sound of the four o’clock bell Linda Corrigan’s cheekbones had that effect on me as well football grounds at Christmas, monkey nuts, stale beer, y’know, the smell induced a state of all’s well with the world,contentment everywhere no need to look for it, it’s here, it’s now. it’s there innocence, that’s well being beyond compare but the older you get the search goes on with intent for the need to be secure, that warm and comfy glow, we press on more hell bent on the game of gladness yoga, reiki, meditation transcendental, zumba, websites for a partner for the horizontal rumba net result only sadness Well being? I ask you la’, it’s not aerobic or restorative or cardio vascular. it’s exclusive it’s elusive, it’s getting absurd,

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As the years stand like pegs on an old; frayed washing line Still we go looking for that magic piece of mind looking near and looking far chasing things that aren’t there Ignoring things that are trying to go ten miles on a nine mile road, fast lane, or one foot on the platform, the other on the train the proverbial glass ceiling, the bottomless ocean floor where every window and every open door, looks shut, for good or for ill it’s dissatisfaction ten, well being nil 28

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The Other Me

A Day in the Life of a Moth

Katie Haigh

Katie Haigh

You didn’t see the tear I shed.

I wiped it far away.

I sat and watched you having fun.

You danced all night, While on my seat, I stayed.

I wanted to be there with you.

To feel the music through the night.

I wanted to hold hands with you.

Be rhythm by disco light.

I mourned for who I could have been.

The pain free, disability free, me.

Who wouldn’t be in chains.

Shackled without a key.

So I took a moment’s frustration.

I let it, for a short time win.

But then I composed myself.

Trapped those thoughts within.

I grabbed my camera, And snapped away.

Feeling a sense of purpose.

My smile lit up my face.

No tears for the unfixable.

I have to make me liveable.

It’s the way it’s meant to be.

Sometimes I just wish, I could be the other me.

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I’m gazing at my glass of orange juice, it’s been sat here so long, all the pips have drained to the bottom. One of the waitresses (the old greying one) is watching me. I know she wants me to go, I know she’s cursing me for taking up the room of paying customers. Been sat here two hours now, nursing this one drink, I know eventually they’ll ask me to leave but I’m holding out as long as I can. I just want to stay here, where it’s safe and I’m not afraid. He’s at home, waiting for me, angry with me for something again. I don’t want to go home so he can knock me to the floor, punch me, break me physically and mentally.

I just want to escape. My bruises are my dirty secret, hidden beneath makeup and clothes. No one knows but if they did, they wouldn’t care, that’s what he says anyway. My thoughts are broken as a moth lands on the mirrored wall next to me. I reach out, it’s so delicate and fragile yet beautiful but now I find myself swashing it with my hand. In one motion of movement it’s gone. I feel a strong sense of power, a release of tension, letting out the anger I hold inside. For me in that moment he was that moth, and I was the one in control, who had the power and I was free. My eye catches my reflection and I see an emotionless shell staring back. Where have I gone? I wonder, will I ever be me again? Turning back to my orange juice, I take a sip, as the waitress watches disapprovingly.

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For What I Have Received Jill Pemberton

I am warm in bed and I’m sleepy, listening to the rain And that vague, uneasy feeling creeps on me once again.

I have a loving family, my health, my energy too But what if it just disappeared?

My God, what would I do?

I have so much, it frightens me and I’ve never really earned it.

What if someone came to say it’s time that I returned it?

What if someone came to say “We’ll carefully preserve it Until the day you prove to us you really do deserve it.”

A whisper thread is drawn between the paths of joy and sorrow.

Today that joy is mine, but I could lose it all tomorrow.

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If I stray too near that whisper thread, I know my steps will falter.

If I break it, then the pain spills through, that fact I’ll never alter.

But I need my worries and my fears to keep me always aware.

The things that form my wellbeing are gifts beyond compare.

I need them as an antidote, an antidote to greed, For though I’ll always want for more, I’ve everything I need.

The secret of our wellbeing, however hard our lot Isn’t getting what we want, it’s wanting what we’ve got!

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Soup Changes My Mood

Souhad Al Sharif

Shaista Nawaz

Even discussing the issue of going abroad on my own was not allowed.

I have never even give myself the chance to think about it or let it come to my mind.

What about if I now have a husband and children to leave behind?

That nightmare of the “impossible” the echo of the “No” I usually imagine and hear going around.

By my husband, his mum, my parents, my brothers, my sisters except my children who felt proud.

That night was a turning point in my life when my husband changed his mind.

In that white bed I was lying beside him.

I was scared, the room was dark.

The noise of the dogs outside barking.

It was really cold outside, everything was quiet inside.

I turned my back to him.

I was crying silently and I did not want him to see my tears from behind.

Suddenly, he hugged me and turned my face towards his, touched my cheeks to wipe my tears with his fingers It was really kind He said, “My love don’t worry, get ready, tomorrow you are going I am sure you deserve our trust You’ll make us all more and more proud”

To lose some weight I drink my soup To boost my energy I drink my soup I put some vegetables and chicken in my soup To add flavour I put herbs and spices in my soup If I am feeling stressed I drink my soup With my family I enjoy my soup

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Food changes your mood Make soup to change your mood Love makes you feel better and your mood Eat, beat stress and do exercise

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Recreation of Animation Art :-) Using materials galore I’m learning more candle wax, iron, hair-dryer for art group are all friendly from the start.

Julia McClay

Dandelion Centre filled with art therapy themes from our heart Tuesday morning never boring writing thinking talking drinking cutting sticking camera clicking movie making giving taking chatting motivating time flies by Creative thoughts multiply negative intrusions are on delay verbal practice interactions are out to play help to stay positive progress we make new skills new ideas sharing caring

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I’m rambling and raving on now I’ve paused to look at the time which is fine I’m going to learn animation in a minute or two with therapist teachers to walk me through stop the poem here click on all of our ideas with the internet link when the course is over in a blink :-(

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Just Look Up

Karen A Porter

Frances Arden Edited by Anjum Malik

I listen to music to ease my soul Calm my thoughts appease me Me, whole encapsulated Subdued, surrounded with bedding to keep warm

When your heart is heavy and tears are near When your mind is in torment, I’m here When you are friendless without a home Look to the heavens, you are not alone When your hope is gone and you are giving up When despair is knocking – just look up To a clear blue sky, the doves’ domain Pick up your dreams and start again

I lay for hours not wanting to move The window painted with rain, wind blowing, seagulls flying Hearing traffic faintly in the distance 38

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23 Easy Ways to Well Being Deeplish Story Group Translated and edited by Anjum Malik

Wake up early in the morning and have a good wash Wear clean, ironed, fresh smelling clothes daily Say your prayers, meditate, give thanks Eat a good breakfast, include fresh juices and fruits Join groups to learn skills, do activities, exercise Find work you love to do and cherish each moment Meet up with friends, catch up, joke, laugh, enjoy Drink fresh water throughout the day Call your children, cook them their favourites Call your children, ask them to cook your favourites Go in your garden, to the park, stroll in open air Grow food, flowers, pot plants, herbs to share Keep busy, a tidy home, make everything nice

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Visit local markets, venture out to far away places Get out when the sun is shining and take in the rays Eat nutritious foods, change your lifestyle to healthy Remember and relive happy moments all the time Create new happy memories, invite friends to dinner Call, Skype, Whatsapp, Facebook your loved ones Play with little ones, help them learn, joke with them Help your children, sit with them and talk with them Sleep, rest, recharge, relax, take care of yourself Every day is a gift, use it well and give thanks for it.

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Result

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Shaista Nawaz

Shahida Parveen

Exam result came through my uncle It was a really lovely sunny day All was like scent Everybody was happy like flowers My uncle told my dad I passed my exam with good marks Mum and dad were pleased like they were proud of me I was like a butterfly who flies here and there Uncle’s gift was like a special scarf gift the colours like the colours of a rainbow It was like I am flying in the air Sitting in an open area It makes me proud and feel very good Until now I am proud of myself Thank God for that

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What has passed has passed We don’t know what will happen in the future Think what you have got now And you can make it better

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INTERNATIONAL WOMEN’S DAY SHOW ALL FM 96.9 With its origins dating back to 1909, International Women’s Day is celebrated annually across the globe on 8th March. The day honours the social, economic, cultural and political achievements of women, and in many countries has become an occasion for people to simply show their appreciation and love of other women.

To mark the occasion local community radio station All FM curated a day of all female presenters, and in partnership with the Tell Us Another One project produced a one off special show showcasing the work of several members of our creative writing group members. The programme was hosted by Tell Us Another One Co-Ordinator Danielle Porter, with special guests, Katie Haigh, Shaista Nawaz, Karen Porter, Carol Keys, Elaine Morris, Kathleen Proctor and Shellah Tasab.

The women, representing different writing groups from across the region, had the opportunity to share their written work live on air, select their own music and to discuss other women who were inspirational to them. Highlights of the show, including poetry, short stories and an interview with Cartwheel Arts Wellbeing Co-ordinator Kerry Bertram are available to listen to at www.audioboom.com/cartwheelarts The show was great fun and jam packed with our very own inspirational women who, afterwards, continued to discuss what the writing groups S cr i b b l e

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meant to them, and how they’ve been influenced and spurred on not only by writing group leaders but by other participants within their groups.

What was clear on the day was the confidence of the women and how they thrived on writing, and sharing their work, but they didn’t all start out like this. “I was dragged into it! I’d never written anything before”. Shaista Nawaz chatted about her reluctance to join a writing group and how she did so begrudgingly to accompany a friend. Now Shaista can’t imagine not going, and finds herself coming up with new ideas for stories when she least expects it.

Everyone at the International Womens’ Day celebration showed great support towards each other and produced such an eclectic range of stories and poems. What was especially noticeable was how inclusive the groups were: poems were read in Urdu as well as English and this soon sparked a discussion amongst the group about differing cultures and how appreciative they were to mix with women they may not have had the chance to outside of the Tell Us Another Project.

Towards the end of the day the women began to consider the importance of the creative writing activities on their health, there seems to be a strong belief within the group that art is vital in providing relief from a variety of issues, and many of the women have found respite from depression and anxiety as well as finding the confidence to overcome barriers put up by difficulties such as dyslexia and more physical impairments.

The whole day was an inspiration and we can’t wait to do something like this again. Be sure to check out the audio highlights of the day and look out for more interviews with our writing groups in future posts.. — (S)

This article was written by our resident writer Hayley Flynn.

You will see more of her work throughout the year as she documents the people we work with. Photo’s were produced by Katie Haigh one of our Tell Us Another One Participants.

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THE MACGUFFIN DEVICE 46

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We caught up with Jim Hinks of Manchester indy publishers Comma Press. Jim told us all about his new project MacGuffin, an online anthology of the spoken word and creative writing.

I grew up in the cassette age, long before CDs and mp3s, before digital streaming across a 4G network. I didn’t even have a proper Sony Walkman, but an Aiwa ‘personal cassette player’ from Boots, and my pockets rattled with tapes that liked to unspool themselves amongst the lint and loose change, and had to be meticulously wound back with a biro.

I loved audiobooks in particular. I loved, and still love, the peculiar intimacy of hearing an author’s voice superimposed onto the quotidian urban environment. My favourite audiobook was Wild Blue Yonder – Simon

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Invitation to Submit Material Armitage’s mesmerizing performance of poems from his first three collections. Armitage was my invisible ally, or perhaps accessory, as a youth on the streets of West Yorkshire. I wore it out.

Press that clunky Aiwa fast-forward button; listen to it whine and rattle, then click, as we reach the present day.

Amateur podcasters have shown that you don’t need expensive studio equipment to record decent audio: if you have a smartphone, you have a recording studio in your pocket; all it takes is a quiet room and some practice. The advent of 4G means listeners can stream audio, pretty cheaply, from almost anywhere in the UK. It feels like the right time for a self-publishing platform for text and audio. So at Comma Press, we built one. It’s called MacGuffin, and it’s a website and app for stories, poems and essays in text and audio form.

If you’re a writer, you can publish your own work on MacGuffin, so long as you upload a reading along with the text. Most people just record themselves at home, on their phones. Some of my favourite readings have a homemade feel – you can hear birdsong in the background, or a distant police siren, or kids playing in the next room.

MacGuffin hosts lots of sample content from indie publishers like Bloodaxe, Carcanet, Valley Press, Flapjack, Peepal Tree and Comma Press, and spoken-word nights like Bad Language, Evidently, and Verbose. It’s is free to use for everyone, and unpaid, so it’s probably not the right place to publish a whole book of stories or poems. It is a good place to reach new readers with a few sample poems or stories, linked back to where people can buy your book (or magazine), or to your website.

If you’d like to try it, the website is www.macguffin.io. There are apps for iPhone and Android, too – just go to the respective app stores and search ‘MacGuffin stories’. — (S) MacGuffin is a collaboration between Comma Press, The Manchester Metropolitan University School of Computing, Mathematics and Digital Technology, and fffunction.co.

The project is supported by the Digital R&D Fund for the Arts, which enables collaboration between organisations with arts projects, technology providers, and researchers.

It is a partnership between Arts Council England, Arts and Humanities Research Council and Nesta.

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For issue 21 of Scribble we are looking for submissions on the theme of ‘Communication’ and ‘Communicating’.

Communication is the imparting or exchanging of information by speaking, writing, or using some other medium. It can be verbal, written or non-verbal. We can communicate consciously or without even knowing we are.

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The word communication comes from the Latin commūnicāre, meaning “to share” and has a similar root to the word ‘community’.

If you are a writer or a poet based in Greater Manchester and the North West and are interested in being published send your submissions to: paul@cartwheelarts.org.uk Deadline 15th August 2016.

Join in!

Anyone can join our Tell Us Another One regular writing groups which we support across Greater Manchester, Boroughs of Rochdale, Oldham and Bury. Groups meet monthly and are always looking for new people to join them.

First Thursday 11am – 1pm — Deeplish Community Centre Hare Street Rochdale OL11 1JT

First Thursday 2pm – 4pm — Seedfield Resource Centre Parkinson Street Bury BL9 6NY

Second Monday 1pm – 3pm — Darnhill Library Argyle Parade Heywood OL10 3RY

For more information: 01706 361 300

Third Thursday Write Out Loud: For members of the LGBT community 2pm – 4pm — Middleton Library Long Street Middleton M24 6DU

Third Thursday Langley Writers * 2pm – 4pm — Demesne Community Centre Asby Close Middleton M24 4JF

* Langley Writers are an independent writing group.

Third Friday 11am – 1pm — Dumers Lane Library 245 Dumers Lane Radcliffe M26 2GN

Fourth Tuesday 2pm – 4pm — Fitton Hill Library Fircroft Road Oldham OL8 2QD

Fourth Wednesday 9am – 11am — Spotland Community Centre 92 – 96 Spotland Road Rochdale OL12 6PJ