Show Don't Tell: Issue 2 by UoG Show Don't Tell

The Team EDITOR Charl Harrison

CONTRIBUTERS Andreea Bocancea Sammie Cain Matthew Coates Maz Cope Davey Evans Rod Griffiths Tara-Marie Hurst Dan Martin Eve Matthews Reece McCormack Carina Mitchell Charlie Patterson Mary Pipikakis Alice Rowan Ash Saunders David Smith Amy Twist Nathaniel Wilson

PHOTOGRAPHY AND ILLUSTRATIONS Andreea Bocancea Linda Le Alice Rowan Amy Twist

SOCIAL MEDIA Charl Harrison Alice Rowan

Hello!

ISSUE 2 DECEMBER 2014

Welcome to the second issue of Show Don’t Tell! I was overwhelmed by the amazing response to our first issue and the fantastic turnout at our launch party. So, I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone that was a part of it! I’m really excited about this issue; there are so many varied and interesting articles, featuring tips for writing your RCU (yep, it’s that time of year) and some tips for going up on stage at open mic night. There’s also some amazing creative pieces by students and information about Show Don’t Tell’s first competition! Oh, and there’s a voucher for a free cocktail at Yates’, too. This issue will be our last of 2014 as we’re taking a break during assignment time, but we’ll be back in January! Have a fantastic Christmas and see you in 2015!

Charl Charl Harrison Editor

Editor’s Picks PAGE 7

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Want to write for the magazine? Just email: uogshowdonttell@gmail.com for more details. 3

Contents 5. ‘When you go home tell them of us and say— For your tomorrow we gave our today’ Celebrated World War 1 Writers 6. Last Night, I Dream I Go to Mandalay Again Thoughts on writing in the present tense 7. Interview with Lucy Tyler Davey Evans and Maz Cope talk to Lucy Tyler

10. Author Profile: Bret Easton Ellis Why Ellis is annoying everyone on Twitter 11. UoG Media Fest: Q & A with Stephen Thompson Stephen Thompson’s writing experience 12. The Page Burner, The Page Turner Book reviews featuring the bad and good 13. The RCU Fantastic tips for writing your RCU 14. Flash! Fiction and Poetry Creative pieces from students 21. Congratulations, Tyler!

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Tyler’s recent Journey Prize award! 22. Every Thought is a Battle Writing and mental health issues

23. Down with Big Brother: Theatre in Retrospect A review of the theatre production of 1984 24. Open Mic Hints & Tips

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Tips from students on getting up on stage 26. A Big Thank You to Yates’ A thank you to Yates’, our magazine sponsors 28. #140Story Competition How to enter our first competition on Twitter 29. Tips & Triggers Writing tips from students and Trigger of the Month 30. Events Creative Writing events happening in December

FANCY READING ONLINE? www.issuu.com/uogshowdonttell

‘When you go home tell them of us and say For your tomorrow we gave our today’ BY TARA-MARIE HURST

PHOTOGRAPHY COURTESY OF WEHEARTIT.COM

This year marks the centenary of the First World War. Sixteen million people gave their lives and one hundred years on, we remember them with gratuitous hearts. As a writer, I find myself looking back at the many poets who gave the world its first insight into the horror of 'total war' and trench warfare. Owen, Sassoon and many others wrote some of the most famous poems of our time allowing us, even in the modern day, to try our best to understand and relate. So what made the literature of the First World War so different? For the first time, there were middle class men experiencing war and encapsulating their experiences on paper. From 1914, many of the men on the front line were literate, and were able to document their experiences. Despite having the facts, the history of trench warfare and the real horror of the war meant that the poetry that arose from those trenches is what has truly allowed us to see through the eyes of the men that wrote it and fought there. Wilfred Owen is perhaps the most recognised and celebrated writer of the First World War, producing hard-hitting poetry such as Dulce et Decorum est and Anthem for Doomed Youth. The graphic content of his work showed the reality of war to the public and contrasted with the patriotic poetry of other writers such as Rupert Brooke. Owen's poetry stood out against the strong patriotism of Britain and its poetic propaganda, allowing his readers to grasp the concept of trench warfare, and the horrors that those men were forced to see. It was this reality, this terrible truth, which showed their true sacrifice. The strong influence of these writers has continued on into modern day literature; Birdsong, by Sebastian Faulks is just one example of this. The novel itself is a top-seller and as well as being produced as a short TV series on BBC, a radio play and a film is currently in the works. Regeneration, originally a novel by Pat Barker, has recently been performed as a play at the Everyman Theatre, receiving four-star reviews and having close to a full house most nights. The plot is not entirely fiction, based on real events that occurred at Craiglockhart Hospital in Scotland during the war. Owen, Sassoon, Graves and other men that later defined poetry of the war were all visitors to the hospital at one point or another. It was here that Owen, under Sassoon's guidance, wrote his ground-breaking poetry. There are no more veterans, sadly, to join us this year for the centenary. We are now a generation that does not know 'total war' as we have never experienced it. Those words, scribbled by those men in trenches and hospitals, are the closest we will get to the First World War. The closest we will get to the horror and the closest we will get to the people who gave their lives, their way of living to preserve and enrich our own today. 11/11 this year did not pass quietly. The two minutes of silence held one-hundred years’ worth of gratitude, spanning from all corners of the globe. 'They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning We will remember them.' - Laurence Binyon, For the Fallen

Last Night, I Dream I Go to Mandalay Again

The Present Tense in Fiction BY NATHANIEL WILSON

Go to any open mic night for Creative Writing Students and you’ll quickly notice something: these students know a lot of words but seemingly no past participles. Throughout the millennia, as styles and cultures have come and gone, they all seem to at least stick to the rule of referring to stuff as if it has happened. Even the future-set dystopian novels, We, Brave New World and 1984, essentially worked with the premise that someone, whether Winston Smith or some omniscient god, has sat down and recalled from memory what went down. That the novel must have been wired back through time didn’t require much suspension of disbelief. The past tense works well enough for most other types of recollection with the curious exceptions of jokes, dreams and those anecdotes you seem to tell only at happy hour and coffee mornings (“so he comes and says to me, he says etc.”). Now we’ve all done it at least once so no condemnation here. Admittedly, putting your prose into the present tense and thus into “real time” gives it a sharp, immediate quality, though for me this is somewhat offset by the conclusion that Hal Incandenza from David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest and Ana Steel from E.L. James’ Fifty Shades of Grey lived life perpetually scribbling their affairs into a notepad without one footnote to acknowledge it. I can’t imagine how it must feel to be flogging a girl with her writing in her diary the whole time… even if it is a positive review.

Alternatively, like stream-of-consciousness fiction, we can always think of all present tense prose as a direct transcription of the unconscious psyche to paper. This thought goes well with poetry, perhaps the greatest medium for people to grapple with their own minds. Perhaps it is the rise of modernity that has quickened the pace of life and made us so used to seeing things happening quickly, or even immediately, without the bias and limitation of a character’s memory. Maybe over a century of cinema (and videogames in the last third) has spoilt at least one generation for anything other than the raw, unadulterated experience of life, even if Michael Bay and Zadie Smith seem to focus on different areas of reality. If there is a cinematic equivalent to modern literary fiction (say the likes of Bergman, Fellini and Tarkovsky) it must be said that they’re more than a little stylised. It is quite modernist to want to feel someone’s true experience at the expense of some logistical considerations. Some authors like to capitalise on the way in which memory and personal motives obscure a situation (Vladimir Nabokov’s postmodern novel, Lolita, is the extreme example). Maybe as our world becomes more and more insincere, whether due to manipulative advertisements or hipster-type irony, it’s refreshing to look into someone’s head without the barrier of their own account to warp what you may find. Do these first-hand, first-person accounts give greater believability? Do they chain us to greater subjectivity? Or is that a false dichotomy? Whatever artistic benefits the present tense has to offer, there will inevitably be that one writer in the Pulitzer Prize Shortlist or in a night spent reading ‘creepypastas’ who will feel the need to let you know how, from the first sentence, chic and Avant Garde they are. Love or hate it, it’s here to stay and I’m optimistic that, once used a touch more discriminatingly, it will add to the rich language of modern literature.

BY DAVEY EVANS, MAZ COPE & ALICE ROWAN

Name: Lucy Tyler Occupation: Lecturer in Creative Writing, and Course Leader for the Masters in Creative and Critical Writing Highest Qualification: MPhil

Davey Evans. What was your first work in theatre?

Lucy Tyler talks about getting produced and creating her own theatre company…

Lucy. It was when I was a student and I’d written a play. I didn’t know very much about new writing culture and I didn’t know much about contemporary drama at all. So I’d just wrote this play and didn’t know what to do with it. I was just quite pleased I had finished a play. I sent it to Soho Theatre in London, which I knew because I had walked past it and thought it looked quite nice from the outside, so I sent it there and forgot about it immediately. A few weeks later I got a letter saying that they’d like to discuss the play. So, I went down to London on the coach, it was wonderful, and met them to talk about the play. They weren’t going to produce it but they were interested in me as a writer. I felt like I’d been selected for the X-Factor. It was a good start. They asked me if I’d like to be one of their associate playwrights at the theatre and go and read lots of the plays that they’ve got, see their shows for free. They’d then broker relationships with other companies who may be interested in your work. They brokered with a Berlin based company interested in my play and then one based in America as well. D. What was the play called? L. ‘The Measurements for a Murderer’, a play about a Siberian women’s prison and a beauty pageant that they did, this was a real thing, in the pageant they did every year you can win your freedom, which is a bit shocking, so I thought I’m going to write a play about that. D. What was your experience in creative writing then? L. I was doing a degree in creative writing, so I’d done playwriting. I was also really interested in theatre; I had always gone to the theatre and been interested in acting and drama. D. So how did it progress after contact with Soho Theatre? L. Lots of little things happened as a result of that relationship. There was more interest in my work. Then I started the MPhil in Playwriting at Birmingham University. I had some work on at the same time as the MPhil, so it was nice to have that experience working in an academic context on a particular play, which turned out to be the worst play I’ve ever written, but also the most exciting play in terms of the journey it took. What tends to happen is when you’re learning to write drama the play you’re writing becomes the play you’re learning. Sometimes it doesn’t work but you’ve learnt so many lessons on the journey of writing that play.

Have you ever had a company or director change your play?

L. I was having a staged reading of one play I had written and I thought that one scene was the most hilarious scene ever. A forty minute scene, it was two girls in a bedroom together, they were a couple and had gone on holiday. And they were really annoyed that they had two single beds pushed together, they thought it was a conspiracy about them being lesbians. One of them was really wanting to complain, the other was saying ‘let it drop’. And the theatre company chosen to produce that play were a very serious, feminist production company and they’d chosen to read it as a very serious scene about the problems for lesbians. I was quite shocked that they’d chosen to play it serious. It happens but you’re used to that in theatre. You know it’s a collaborative art form. D.

For someone who wants to become a playwright after this course, what would you say is the process to get plays produced?

L. That’s a really good, yet difficult question. I think creative writing, unlike any other subject in humanities, seems to be a vocational course in that you’re going to become a writer after that. If you were to do a dentistry course you become a dentist. It’s not that straightforward with writing. I think you have to be determined. I think the only way to succeed as any writer is to almost not have that as a goal. To focus more on the work rather than the idea of being a professional writer. To say all I am interested in is making a play as best as it can be. And focusing on the art rather than the idea of where the art might lead. D.

How many plays are you working on at the moment?

L. When I first started working here I decided I wanted to give the students some real experience with the theatre and experience being a practising writer. So I tried to get some money so that I could produce a piece that my students wrote. I wrote a bid and received funding and the outcome was ‘Smoke Rings’ at the Everyman Theatre. It was a collaboration between fifteen third year students and we had five performances sold out every night. We have received the funding again and we’re doing it again with the MA playwrights, me and an artistic director, with a play about the Dymock Poets using the university archive downstairs (the Student Archive in FCH) as the raw material for making the play. I’m also working on another play at the moment just for fun. And I’ve just finished on a play doing another run at the Southbank Centre. An audio drama I’d written for Paines Plough theatre, a new writing theatre in London, called ‘Come to Where I’m From’. It’s a short piece about me and it’s a monologue, quite personal. We did a bit of rewriting on that. And I didn’t even get to go either, which was annoying, but sometimes you don’t get to go. D. Did you perform that? L. I performed it once, and then they recorded me doing it. I think I’ll play it to you in lecture (second year cohort studying radio drama). It’s mostly about turnips and sex, which is a bit weird. Maz. Could you tell us more about Eleven Places Theatre Company? L. Eleven Places is a theatre company that I set up with some alumni from the course who were really interested and excited about working professionally in drama. Our first production was called ‘The Recipe for Belonging’ and we had an artistic residency at [Meantime] Space for a month. We devised the play rather than wrote it. Which was fun. We spent a fucking freezing month in December a couple of years ago working on this play. We were there from 8.30 to 6.00 every day. Drinking as much tea and smoking as many cigarettes as possible trying to get something that was exciting and interesting. That play we made I have such fond memories of. I think it was one of the most important things that I’ve ever done because it was a total challenge to my processes; working collaboratively on a devised piece. M. How would we go about setting up a theatre company? L. We just did it. We didn’t have an idea how to do it. We knew from the outset that we wanted to create devised work where the writer was presenting to the audience. We started to devise work we’d perform ourselves. I think it’s also about having contacts and meeting people. There are theatre companies in Gloucester and Cheltenham that meet up all the time.

D. When forming a theatre company, is it best to have a mission statement? L. I think it helps if you know what you’re trying to achieve as a group of people and what territory you might be able to do. M.

What obstacles were presented with Eleven Places?

L. When you’re working with a group of mates there’s a lot of messing around that happens. It could be 12.00 before you actually do any work, so you have to be disciplined. Luckily, I’m extremely bossy. Which I know you’ll quote in this interview. We got work done because we had to. The deadline is the massive obstacle.

“I’m extremely bossy”

Alice. What are the pros and cons of playwriting versus devising work? L. It’s a really live question at the moment and there’s a lot of interest around that idea. Like the ‘devisers’ are going to take over the playwrights. Immersive theatre is really big. It stretches the boundaries of what we think theatre is, I’m quite interested in it. All of those masks behind you (see photos) are from Punch Drunk (theatre company) plays where you’re set loose in a massive warehouse and loose adaptations of Macbeth and others are performed in these amazing sets. You’re in the set itself, a building as big as FCH, wandering around on your own and an actor might come and have an interaction with you. It’s really challenging what we think a play is, but that notion of a play that we go and sit in a theatre and watch is being challenged entirely. I’m interested in doing all sorts of different things and I think they are all valid expressions of theatricality. I don’t think a playwright can be just someone who sits on their own with a quill. These days a playwright is someone who is hung up by their legs from the ceiling reciting monologues backwards to an audience. Things change.

AUTHOR Bret Easton Ellis PROFILE

Famous for writing American Psycho and being an asshole...

BY REECE MCCORMACK Bret Easton Ellis was still in college when he published his début novel, Less Than Zero. Upon its release, an editor at Simon & Schuster allegedly said, 'If there's an audience for a novel about cokesnorting, cock-sucking zombies, then by all means let's publish the damn thing'. Ellis says you need armour to survive as an author. In his case, he's certainly right. Throughout his career, which spans six novels, (Less Than Zero, The Rules of Attraction, American Psycho, Glamorama', Lunar Park, and Imperial Bedrooms), a short-story collection, (The Informers) and a crowd-sourced film starring Lindsay Lohan and porn star James Dean, (The Canyons), Ellis has taken serious flak. He's been labelled a misogynist, a homophobe, a racist, and, to neatly summarise the response he gets on Twitter, an arsehole. He's also received his share of death threats. Through all of this, many of his detractors insist that Ellis isn't even a 'serious writer'. Ellis has often asked, what is a serious writer anyway? It is an idea that Ellis seems to shun. He claims he'd rather hang out with Robert Pattinson than Richard Ford, and has described David Foster Wallace as 'pretentious', the most 'overrated' writer of his generation, and a part of the whole 'bullshit package'. Ellis is the literary equivalent of a rock star: a hell raiser who's known just as much for his bad-boy persona as he is his writing. But Ellis claims that he's much more boring than he's made out to be – and coke was only ever a weekend drug anyway. One of the most arresting elements of Ellis's fiction is his ability to completely disappear behind his characters, (when he wrote American Psycho he kept a note on his desk that said 'NO METAPHORS!'), yet according to Ellis, his work is deeply personal. He is the same age as all of his narrators, and they are each indicative of his life when he wrote them.

For instance, when he wrote yuppie serial killer Patrick Bateman, Ellis claims to have felt isolated and depressed, living a 'lifestyle being sold as life', and when he wrote celebrity-obsessed fluff-head Victor Ward, he was at the height of his own infamy. What permeates all of Ellis's novels, beyond the satire of pop, consumerist and conformist culture, are deep feelings of paranoia, loneliness, and an omnipresent sense of dread. So, what is he doing now? Keeping busy, apparently. He claims to be writing a novel, and a few screenplays on top of that. He recently wrote an essay on the representation of gay men as Magical Elves (In the Reign of the Gay Magical Elves) and he's hosting his own podcast, with celebrity guests such as Kanye West, Rod Zombie and Marilyn Manson. And, he's pissing people off on Twitter – he's doing that a lot. Recommendations: Less Than Zero, Glamorama, Lunar Park. The 'Bret Easton Ellis’ Podcast is available for free download on iTunes. Follow Ellis on Twitter: @BretEastonEllis

Book covers courtesy of Goodreads

UoG Media Fest 2014 Q & A with Stephen Thompson BY CHARL HARRISON, AMY TWIST & DAN MARTIN The yearly UoG Media Fest ran from Monday 3rd - Thursday 6th November, featuring a series of free events for students to attend. There were a vast amount of special guests from various areas, such as writers, musicians, directors, animators and journalists. As Creative Writing students, we were intrigued and decided to attend a Q & A session with Stephen Thompson, author of Toy Soldiers, Missing Joe and Meet Me Under the Westway. Thompson was interviewed by senior lecturer Rachael Cox and spoke about how he got into writing and offered a few writing tips that he has found useful during the process. Stephen Thompson is not just a novelist; he wears many hats including playwright, screenwriter, filmmaker, editor, publisher and journalist. Although he believes that ‘all forms of writing are storybased’, he said that his heart is in prose. Thompson went to drama school, realised it wasn’t for him, and went on to attend the School of Journalism in Harlow, Essex. He started reading books later on in life, going from reading nothing to reading a lot. He would read key texts from various countries, which he said he wouldn’t recommend. He also read a lot of one writer at once, another tactic he wouldn’t recommend, as he started to take on these author’s traits and therefore struggled to find his own voice. However, he strongly believes, as do our lecturers, that reading makes you a better writer.

He also spoke about how cathartic writing can be, something I’m sure many writers would agree with. After an ex-girlfriend of Thompson’s was mugged, she struggled to deal with the experience and so Thompson suggested writing it down. They then made this into a short film, entitled 7 Days, through a low-budget filmmaking website called Shooting People. She found it useful writing down her experiences and this links to the fantastic article on writing and mental health (page 22), which also emphasises how the best thing to do after a traumatic experience is to write about it. Hearing about Thompson making a short film also inspired us to consider writing and making our own, something that would be a lot different from sitting at a desk writing prose and it would also develop our skills in a different creative field. The interview was a fantastic opportunity to hear about a writer’s experiences and how he got to being published. It made us feel better about not quite knowing what we want to do with our lives when we leave university, as, just like Thompson, you have to try different experiences before finding the one for you. During questions from the audience, Thompson stated that his one writing tip was to ‘set yourself a writing task every day and do it’. Well, it sounds less intimidating then Stephen King’s tip of writing 1000 words a day, doesn’t it? PHOTOS FROM UOGMEDIAFEST & GOODREADS

BY AMY TWIST Even though this is considered a classic book, I did not expect it to be as slow and long as it was. For about the first three-hundred pages, Eliot introduced us to the characters and gave us the context behind the conflict. However, this had very little to do with the actual conflict. It also took so long that I found myself falling asleep. Once youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve gotten past this rather long introduction, the plot starts to pick up. The main character, Maggie, is finally old enough to understand the circumstances she and her family are in. It is expected to have something to do with people who are considered outside of society, as the Victorians had a fascination with these stories, and how they managed to comprehend and deal with this situation. It is only when Maggie can comprehend this that the novel becomes interesting. However, by giving us a complete guide to Maggie and her life from when she was a child, Eliot struggled to maintain my interest. Although it is important to know why they are in these circumstances, Eliot drags it out too much. Repeatedly throughout the novel, Eliot shows us in detail about what Maggie is doing, why she is doing it and what goes on with her aunts, her brother and mother. Eliot tries to give a complete scope of the situation. What was the most disappointing aspect of the novel? The ending, as it was so anti-climactic. Eliot sets up the whole novel to try and show us that Maggieâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s family works hard and achieves their goal by redeeming their family name. Thus, people would believe that the ending would be a happy one, and without spoiling (in case anyone does want to read it), the ending is sad and depressing and rather uneventful.

BY MATTHEW COATES "But what about our room? And the golf shoes? We're right in the middle of a fucking reptile zoo! And somebody's giving booze to these goddamn things! It won't be long before they tear us to shreds. Jesus, look at the floor! Have you ever seen so much blood?" The book centres around two characters, Raul Duke and his Attorney, as they travel through Las Vegas with a suitcase filled with an A to Z of almost every dangerous drug, on a quest to discover the elusive 'American Dream'. I first heard of Hunter S. Thompson in my midteens when a friend suggested we get drunk and watch the movie Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I can't remember the details of that night, but I left with a general feeling that the film wasn't so bad, so I purchased a copy of Fear and Loathing a few days later. It became one of the most enjoyable books I have ever come across. The book is based on the true events experienced by Thompson (Raul Duke) and Oscar Zeta Acosta (Dr Gonzo/Duke's Attorney). Fear and Loathing is chaotic, insane and brilliant. The reader is placed in a red convertible driving 100 miles per hour through the desert towards Las Vegas, and the pace is kept up throughout the next 200 pages. The first person perspective of Duke (Thompson) is not only entertaining, but also endearing. The only problem I had with this book is that it is too short, but that isn't really a complaint. Saying something is too short because you enjoyed it so much is essentially another form of praise. If you are looking for a book that is not only a demonstration on how to write beautifully crafted description but is also a hilarious view on the human condition, then this book is for you. Fear and Loathing is the only book I have ever reread and once again it had me wanting more as soon as I finished the last page. It is both funny and terrifying.

FEAR AND LOATHING ILLUSTRATIONS BY RALPH STEADMAN MILL ON THE FLOSS BOOK COVER FROM PENGUIN FEAR AND LOATHING BOOK COVER FROM GOODREADS

AND TIPS ON HOW TO WRITE ONE... BY CARINA MITCHELL So you have just finished writing your prose, poem or play and now have the RCU to contend with, but what is this needed piece of work that seems to incite fear on most Creative Writers? The Responsive Critical Understanding is what some would argue as the difference between Creative Writing being an Academic Degree compared to just a writing course. In academia, we are always asked to look upon our work and that of others critically so that we can form a better understanding. In the case of the RCU, it can be as simple as where we went wrong compared to where we went right. One of the most important factors to remember is: do not leave it till the end to write. Although, many do and it might seem the most logical course of action, seeing as you may not be able to finish the RCU until after you have written the creative piece. It helps to make notes throughout your writing, where you found inspiration, whether someone suggested a change or a book you could use. These notes could make it that much easier to remember when you are sat late at the last minute trying to write out several hundred words of something passable.

There are many different ways to go about writing an RCU but some of these questions may help you to think about ways to explain your piece.     

What are the major thematic issues in your work? Which writers were your major influences? Why was this topic suitable for a short story? How did your work change from first draft to last? (If it was edited heavily) How did you find working to form affect the sound and movement of your poem?

The RCU is what gives you a chance to fully explain your work and an opportunity to suggest further changes. If you feel your story was not as good as it could have been, now is your chance to shine. So do not squander it.

Fiction & Poetry

THE BALLAD OF MY LOST M&M BY SAMMIE CAIN Curse mine shaky hands, that doth loose thine grip, on my true and only love, that from my fingertips doth slip. Close, oh, close were thee, and yet you are forever lost, down the endless crevasses of my sofa, to which you were so carelessly tossed. Not any m&m were thee, oh, noblest of snacks, but the crispiest centre did you possess, that the original brand did lack. And in mine heart do I know, that others lay within the pack, but for none was I excited for, as for you, whom I shall never get back.

CUCUMBER BY ROD GRIFFITHS Like the insistent scent of a bad memory Of a nightmare that comes when least expected Like a sore toe that should have healed, Like a slow puncture, or a dripping tap And the plumber sucking in his breath. A taste like rain on concrete As English as snobbery Like traffic jams in summer Lingering like backache Or conjunctivitis. A terrible taste that taints and pollutes. In every English salad and summer sandwich. It hangs on the tongue and camps in the gut It tries to come back, no matter what follows it down.

MY PRIDE BY ASH SAUNDERS

Malcolm enters the room. You pretend not to notice him. He circles the room. “Adam, long time no see!” he says, sitting down next to you. “I’m going to the kitchen.” “I’ll join you, mate.” An image of you strangling him flashes through your mind. “Hungry, eh, buddy?” He laughs. You shudder. Every word scratches against you like a cheese grater. “A little parched actually.” “What’s that mean?” he says, jogging to keep up. You pause, rolling your eyes. You’ve reached the kitchen. “I’m thirsty,” you say without looking at him, your hand on the door. You imagine banging your head against it. “Thirsty too? Cool. But what does parched mean?” An image of you banging his head on the door instead flashes through your mind. There’s not going to be much cheese left by the end of this conversation. You get a glass down from a cupboard. “Can you get me a glass?” he asks, still leaning against the fridge. You fill up your glass at the sink and hand it to him. “Here. I’ll get another one.” He takes the glass and drinks it all in one go. “Water is pretty boring." You fill up another glass at the sink and take a sip. “It isn’t to me.” “My ex used to drink nothing but water. She was just as boring.” You stare at him. “Are you talking about Amber?” “Oh yeah, you two were pretty close, weren’t you?” Your hand tightens around the glass, squeezing it deep into your palm. “We still are.” You stare at him, imagining green laser beams shooting from your eyes. “Doesn’t she bore you?” “I think she’s cool.” You squeeze the glass even tighter into your palm. “She wasn’t exactly fun though.” You think about smashing the glass to get you out of this conversation. “She’s not dead,” you say, releasing your grip on the glass and banging it down on the counter. “No one sees her anymore.” You’re a lion trapped in a cage with food that’s covered in barbed wire. The longing to devour is almost over-powering but you can’t risk your own safety. “Weren’t you two together for two years?” you ask, trying to delay the kettle boiling inside your chest. “Yeah, was only in it for the sex,” he says, as casually as if he’d just commented on the weather. You turn away from him. You flick the switch for the kettle. “How did it end?” you ask, with your back to him, feeling like a thermos holding steaming water. “The sex?” You start to tap the counter. “I mean the relationship,” you say, watching the water begin to bubble. “I told her I was in love with someone else,” he says, shrugging. The kettle boils but you just stare at it. Throwing the boiling water all over Malcolm wasn’t going to help. “After two years of being together?” He opens the fridge and searches through it as if this was making him feel famished. “Just didn’t fancy her in the end,” he says with his head stuck in the fridge like a pig with its head in a trough. You could pounce. Animals are more vulnerable when they’re eating. He wouldn’t expect it. Protecting your pride from outsiders is your job.

WINDOWS TO THE SOUL BY EVE MATTHEWS Stare into the eyes of a stranger. Ponder their lives. Detach yourself from your own troubles, your own dramas, your own being. Observe the joy in their eyes, embrace it, but also experience the pain. Look with wonder and intent, look with admiration and kindness. Delve into their existence and consider the path that they're on, what they've accomplished, what's left to come. A stranger they'll remain, but your eyes will become wiser, your soul more at peace.

THE CHTHONIAN MASQUERADE BY SAMMIE CAIN Amongst the chthonian masquerade, each year, there are those who put me on. An ignorant parody; a bon mot. But while you wear your cheap nylon wig and an ill-fitted dress, and drink, I am abused, I am raped and I am killed. Fuck you, I'm not a costume. You can take it off but I cannot. You cannot trivialise this, you cannot argue your case, you cannot apologise. Just stop.

STENDHAL’S SYNDROME BY MAZ COPE Distorted, violins, harp, piano, Playing the Por Una Cabeza. Men fogged in cigarette smoke, drinking whisky, brandy and wine. A musk of blaze orange, behind the dancers. She’s wearing Prada, silk black dress cutting into her breasts. He’s wearing an Armani suit, sleeves rolled up. His left arm behind his back No concentration, just each other. A crowd gathers around the pair. He grabs a rose and places it in his mouth She bites it from him, She floats it down his lips. He places his finger on her hips lifts and spins her. He lowers her to the ground. Legs stretched wide, She moves the rose down him. He holds her upright, Grabs her bare back, and thrusts her into his chest. Just staring at their passion, I suffer. Reduced to tears, Rapid heartbeat, I pass out.

THE SACK BOY BY CHARLIE PATTERSON The sack boy lies on a surgical pallet, his straw limbs splayed. He stares at nothing. His face is torn, a double cleft of fissures split the upper lip like an hourglass, curving up to the nostrils. The philtrum flaps like a uvula. A sea of shadow and linoleum teal. The doctor peers down from a white planet. ‘They’re made to tear,’ he tells the room. ‘Some from handling. Some from birth. Some’ll shell out fifty dollars to stitch them up right. Some won’t.’ Beside the bed, a shoal of blades, swimming. The scalpel is ordered. A steel fin, hooked like a harvest shear, passed over. Fingers tweeze the mouth apart. The sack boy sags, an empty bag. Skin, draped over nothing. The scalpel dips, clearing threads, scything stalk and tissue. Then, the flash of the needle pushing through, the wheel of the wrists, spinning out yarn, winding him up. The rift is closed. They pad him out as best they can for one sack boy in a heap of millions, and drape him over a pair of arms, weighing as little as a thought, or as much.

From THE GIFT OF HOME BY DAN MARTIN I’d just turned eighteen, and nana Joan gave me a gift. She said “My grandma gave me and my siblings the same thing when we turned eighteen as she did for my mother and she said that one day I will be doing the same thing.” She bought Tom the same gift around our fourth anniversary. “Grandma Barnwell gave us the same thing when we turned eighteen as she did for my mother, and as she did for Benjamin’s father when she knew that he was part of the family.” She’d said to Tom. I’ve lived with my boyfriend in Cheltenham for 6 years. It’s a small place, just a ten minute walk from town. It was 2.17am, and I was in bed awake, and restless. We were burying nana Joan in two days and I couldn’t sleep. I went to the window and cracked it open and then to my draw of hats and scarfs to get my tub. I built a doobie and climbed back into bed. It started to rain. An old terraced house like this can be a different kind of place in the early hours of the morning. I could hear it moving, the walls and beams stretching, and twisting, while I was sitting upright under the duvet, smoking. I think in the film industry they call this ‘pathetic fallacy’. It’s a joke right, but no it’s true. Sometimes the environment fits the mood. Sometimes I can smell damp in the walls that make the air breath stale and dirty. The gift she gave me was a crucifix. We’re not religious in anyway shape or form, apart from granddad, he was Methodist, but that was ok. It was just our tradition. Even granddad wore one. For us it symbolised family. Part of the initiation process of becoming an adult. “Even though you are your own person,” she said. “Even though your life may take you to some weird and wonderful places, wear this and you will be reminded that where ever we are, we are ‘home’.” I got to my parent’s place. Pulled up to the drive and noticed their car wasn’t there. I got out, knocked on the door and Mum answered it. I asked her where dad was. “He’s popped out for a bit,” she said. “Oh right.” “Don’t start.” She replied, “He had to go out to sort out the holiday. We’re going to Cyprus.” “But isn’t it a little convenient that whenever I come by these days dad’s not around. I barely see him.” “I sent him,” she said. “Aunty Jan and Aunty Jen are coming over today. They’re staying the night and we’re cooking for them so he’s going to the supermarket as well.” We sat at the kitchen table as we had lunch. Mum prepared a Caesar salad, and we ate it in silence. Mum didn’t look at me much she mainly focused her attention on eating. When we finished, Mum picked up the dishes, and rinsed them off before placing them into the dishwasher. “So what’s happening tomorrow?” I said. “Everyone is meeting us at the church,” she said. “Be there by 11.30.” “Ok.” “Is Thomas coming?” “It’s Tom.” I said, “No, he’s not coming. I don’t think it’s wise. I’m going to tell him.” “You mean you haven’t told him already?” “What’s your problem, Mum?” I said, “I know you’re both homophobic.” Mum turned round to look at me, but she didn’t say anything. It was like she couldn’t say anything. “Mum, it’s been ten years now,” I said. “I’m still here. I’m still your son and I love you, so why can’t you love me back?” “I do love you, it’s just it makes me very uncomfortable and it makes your father angry and I have to deal with that.” “Why does it make you feel uncomfortable? I hardly talk about it.” “It’s the thought.” She said, “I can’t look at two men kissing, it’s embarrassing.” “Oh I embarrass you do I?” I said, “How could nana Joan accept me, accept us, Tom and I but you and dad can’t?” Mum didn’t have anything to say. “I love Tom. We’ve been together for eight years and he loves me,” I said. “I didn’t ask to be gay. Just one day I changed. I thought I was like all my friends and you and dad, but then, like something were switched on, and my life took a turn in the road. It changed direction. It changed me. As soon as I began asking questions of myself I began to struggle and I felt like I had no one to talk to. No one I felt like I could trust to share what I was going through. But one day I just thought to myself, ‘I don’t want to be spending the rest of my days depressed just because of who I like. I like me, and if this is me, it’s me, so be it’. I know it’s gonna take time, but you and dad have to get over this, just like I did.”

I thanked mum for lunch and told her I’d be at the church at 11.30 and walked out the door, got in the car and drove off before dad showed up. I pulled over down the road for a moment. I needed to calm down and I needed to call Tom and say I was on route home. Later that night we had sex again, but this time I bottomed. Afterwards I told Tom that I would go to the funeral alone and he wasn’t happy. We had an argument. It got pretty heated, for us. Not what I needed the night before saying goodbye to someone I love so much and know I’m going to feel it for a long time, gone. I remember the day I came out to her. She sat there, paused. We were out on the patio decking looking over the garden. She turned to me and quoted; “‘the love of man to woman is a thing common and of course, and at first partakes more of instinct and passion than of choice; but true friendship between man and man is infinite and immortal.’” “What does that mean?” I said. “Honestly, I don’t know,” she said. “Plato said it.” We both laughed. “It doesn’t matter who you love, as long as you love,” she said. “You’re taking this far better than I thought nana Joan.” “What did you expect, banishment with a dishonourable discharge?” “Ha, discharge.” “Uh, Benjamin, don’t be disgusting.” “You got to choose your words more carefully,” I said giggling. “I’m sorry, I’m nervous.” “Don’t be, child, I love you. You’re my grandson. You are who you are and if you’re happy then I’m happy.” “Thanks nana.” “You are happy right?” “Yeah,” I smiled. “Good, I’m happy it’s living up to its name.” We laughed again. If only Mum and Dad took it so well. I arrived outside the church and waited in the car park for a moment. I needed to fix myself up and sort myself out. Be ready. I got out of the car and started to walk over to the entrance. There were people there, waiting outside. The sun was shining bright and it felt warm as my black suit absorbed the rays. I stopped to talk to people. Some came to speak to me. I couldn’t see Mum or Dad. The priest came out and asked us all to go in and join the rest for they were about to begin the service. I saw a taxi pull up and stop next to me. I looked inside and saw Tom paying the fare. He stepped out and greeted me with a smile and a hug. He showed me his crucifix. I was glad he came, because I needed him. We walked into the church together and as we went down the aisle to find a seat near the front, I saw Mum and Dad sitting on the front row, right hand side. She turned and looked at me. Then she smiled. She looked at Tom and smiled at him too. We sat in the row behind them. Whenever I look at or touch my dented crucifix, it reminds me of a broken family, but at the same time it reminds me of her. I think about nana Joan a lot. I will miss her till my last exhale.

BEAR’S PERSPECTIVE BY AMY TWIST White cedar and maple trees. The sun rises. I go to my usual nut burrow. Paw prints. Long and thin. Unlike any animal I know. I sniff. A smell that is different. Smells of the edge. Of the rock that hurt, keeps those twolegged creatures safe. I smell my usual oak. The rain made fresh mud. A breeze passes. Hair rises I bare my teeth Step towards my tree. My blackness doesn’t blend into the background. I see a two-legged creature. I stand I walk a little noise surrounding me pain blood shout swipe charge I hear a shout I see it Scrambles Tries to rush only to slip slides scrambles more wildly more noises twigs breaking I turn more things Back the way I came No way out they surround me slash fumble to break free blur after blur they call to one another rush at the one in front of me high pitched sound Running Stopped thinking about them only the things in their hands that caused pain I bash one shouts of the others I don’t understand this pain They rush Overwhelmed push forward I swing I shout warn the others swing through continue to hit Running through maple trees The swamp. My overgrowth. I can’t hear them anymore. I slow, go to the river. Flowing of water. Break through the cove, check, slowly, carefully. Quietly walk to the river. Ready to run undercover. Arm into the cold water, blood stains the clear colour, my cut feels better. Take it out. Looks better. Blood got caught in my fur, gone. Back to the cover of the trees. Trees peer at me. Listen for shouts. Birds sing. Rabbits leave their warren. Deer run. Home. Almost black overhanging moss. Two white cedar trees. My cave. Inside. Leaf pile to the right. Similar smell of the damp and mouldy.

BY CHARL HARRISON

As you’ve probably heard by now, one of our lecturers, Tyler Keevil, has not only won the Wales Book of the Year People’s Choice award for his novel The Drive, but he has also recently won The Journey Prize for his short story Sealskin! I was lucky enough to read this in my second year and thought it was brilliant and it was of course (intimidatingly) well-written. Featured in his collection Burrard Inlet, the story considers themes of humanity as well as masculinity in the setting of a fish processing plant in Burrard Inlet, British Columbia.

“Sealskin is a stunner. Tyler Keevil has accomplished something rare: a story about rough masculinity that brims with emotion and pathos.” - The Journey Prize Judges

The Drive, which won the Wales Book of the Year People’s Choice award this year, is a novel described as a ‘wild ride’ and centres around Trevor’s journey to California to get over his heartbreak, with hilarious happenings along the way. From all the team at Show Don’t Tell, massive congratulations, Tyler!

Read The Drive novel or Sealskin in Burrard Inlet, which are available in most good bookshops (or, failing that, Amazon). Keep up with all the updates of our lecturers’ success on our UoG Creative Writing blog: www.uogcreativewriting.wordpress.com PICTURES FROM TYLERKEEVIL.COM

Every Thought is a Battle coping with mental health issues through writing BY EVE MATTHEWS & DAVID SMITH Uni. Drinking until the early hours of the morning, bonding with new 'best' friends over 'never have I ever' and ultimately having one of the greatest experiences of your life? Or, an endless turmoil of homesickness, loneliness and despair? Not everyone has the 'perfect' university experience and there are those who struggle in silence. It's reported that 37% of all university students will at some point during their studies suffer with depression due to academic stress, family issues, relationship problems or financial worries. Recent studies have shown putting pen to paper (or more accurately fingers to keypad) can help to express any degree of emotional state. It aids in challenging negative thoughts and prevents them manifesting. Creative writing of any medium helps to tackle 'low self-worth' which is considered to be one of the biggest contributing factors to depression. Enabling oneself with the written word assists in the identification of talent, and ultimately boosts self-esteem. Equally, open mic nights lead to confidencebuilding through the support of peers. Writing enhances the ability to enter a different realm of reality, imagine and create your own, problem-solve in an alternate universe and reapply to your own life. Through writing, the practice of mindfulness can be ascertained. The recognition, understanding and expression of emotion can be discovered. Ultimately, the empowerment of communicating assertively can be achieved and help in combating the high percentage of those coping with depression. That isn't to say that writing about personal and often painful emotions should be easy. It's not, not for anyone, not even for people that make careers of it. It's something most people have to ease into. Why isn't it easy? For me, it's because I know that once it's put to paper, it's likely that people will read it â&#x20AC;&#x201C; even if I intend to keep it private, it'll inevitably come to light. That is, unless I delete it once I'm done, but that feels like a waste. However, the worry of having someone discover your work should never hinder the process. I was terrified when it came to my first submission for workshop, but, through the support of friends and lecturers, the process became a lot easier very quickly. The natural answer is to write about your feelings indirectly. C.S. Lewis was rumoured to frequently write about depression, but in a roundabout, allegorical manner. Perhaps you could try something similar. The process of sharing your emotion with something that does not judge or respond seems to be a more approachable and reassuring technique. The self-growth that can be achieved through writing is unlimited and highly recommended. There is no need to battle mental health issues alone; the university help zone, lecturers and course leaders are more than happy to lend an ear, listen and provide support to those who need it. We want everyone to enjoy their time at university!

Theatre in Retrospect

BY ALICE ROWAN

While I was home over the summer, I witnessed a spectacle like nothing I have ever experienced in London’s West End. This spectacle was the recent stage production of George Orwell’s 1984, adapted by Robert Icke and Duncan Macmillan. Despite my course and potential profession, I have never actually read Orwell’s classic dystopian novel. A friend who I attended the show with explained to me that they had changed the novel significantly on stage, but to no less an effect. I have heard mixed reviews about this play. Having spoken to some of the lecturers about it, I know they were annoyed at how much had been changed. I feel, if anything, I have had the upper hand going in blind as I had nothing to compare it to. I like theatre to be in two extremes. I am a big fan of stripped back performances, where the script is the most important thing, where I really invest in the character(s) and have nothing to get distracted by. However, I also like my senses to be abused, to feel as though my heart is about to rip out of my chest and to be left holding my breath and this is something 1984 did excellently. With a perfectly executed soundscape, lighting and use of video, I was fully immersed and engaged in this play from start to finish. It is an incredibly intensive show, full of strobe lighting, painfully long blackouts and a perfect balance between volume and silence. Not for the light hearted, this play stretches 101 minutes without an interval. Although 1984 carries a powerful enough message without all of the tech, it was clear that everything was deliberate and nothing left to chance. The technical aspects of the show left no stone unturned and no dialogue unenhanced. I can understand the frustration felt by some regarding the changes made to the original novel, however, change is inevitable in adaptations. The performances were faultless, the transitions seamless and the atmosphere consistently unnerving. This play was, quite simply, one of the best I have ever seen.

PICTURES COURTESY OF URBAN JUNKIE AND LONDON THEATRE DIRECT

BY DAN MARTIN

The Atmosphere Open Reading Nights are generally very casual, supportive and positive. The one thing most people remember is the respect for people that walk up to the stage to perform, especially when it is their own work. This is represented in the round of applause each performer gets, before and after each performance. It is a great environment for individuals to share their pieces, whether they are working progresses or final drafts, first time readers or veterans of the stage. Each evening has a chapter title, if you will. These are not themes, as they can limit the evening’s atmosphere. The chapter titles are in place for two main reasons; a) trigger ideas, and b) as a point of reference. The event has brought about interest from other students, so much so that they have approached me about contributing, including; Religion, Philosophy and Ethics, Advertising, and History. This is encouraging because the evening is broadening its horizons, and people are expressing even more interest in our course and what we do. One R.P.E. student had this to say: ‘Open Reading Night, in my own opinion, is a chance for students (even those who don’t study Creative Writing) to showcase their writing, or pieces that they adore. It is the greatest opportunity to develop your writing skills as well as gaining confidence. The crowd are so supportive and friendly. In my own experience, the Open Evening allowed me to break down my insecurities over my writing, and gave me the greatest confidence I have ever had in relation to my writing.’ (Bethany Hutson – 3rd year)

My Hints and Tips If anything, performing on stage has helped boost my confidence, as I am definitely more of a behind-the-scenes person, I cannot express my appreciation for what Open Reading Nights has done for me personally. It has primarily given me scope to better understand myself, to grow and develop. If you feel like reading but the nerves are getting the better of you, just brave it! The first time is always the more nerve-wracking and although your confidence doesn’t change overnight, it does get progressively easier.  Introduce yourself and your piece.  Always take a minute to adjust the mic, position yourself and get comfortable.  Don’t forget to look up. If you’re embarrassed, then look to the back of the room as it looks like you’re looking at people but you’re not.  Don’t be put off by reading something you are still working on, because reading out loud is one of the best ways to edit grammatical errors, structure and punctuation. General rule of thumb for individual performances: Prose – 2,000/2,500 (split into 2 parts – 1st and 2nd half) Poetry – 3/ 4 poems. Drama – A scene.

Hints and Tips from Students           

It's good to rehearse stories using a Dictaphone which can help gauge running time. (Nathaniel Wilson – 3rd year) When trying to be funny, low brow humour is best. Something genuinely sharp and witty can still be effective it's just that it's hard to achieve this and it's more embarrassing if people think you're trying to be clever but failing. (Nathaniel Wilson – 3rd year) Remember that it is not about humiliating yourself and finding out what you're doing wrong, it’s about working out what is right. (Ash Hartridge – MA) Don't be afraid, if you even think you might want to perform get up and try it, because there's nothing like the feeling of people liking something you've created. (Brandon Landis – 3rd year) Also, don't forget the mic placement, stay close to it while reading, and don't be intimidated by hearing your own voice, it means everyone else can hear you too! (Brandon Landis – 3rd year) Come prepared! Sometimes reading off your phone isn't the best idea...especially when your brother tries to phone you in the middle of a performance. (Charl Harrison – 3rd year) One obvious tip is a pint, or maybe a tequila shot, can help you relax, in the Dutch courage sense, but getting drunk hinders your performance. (Sam Last – Graduate, Charl Harrison – 3rd year & Bethany Hutson – 3rd year) Always speak clearly so that people can understand you - if you rush it or if you whisper your work, it will never have the same impact. (Ash Hartridge – MA) Take a pen and a pad, or something to write notes down on - Being in a circle of your peers, sharing work, can be one of the most inspiring situations to be in. (Ash Hartridge – MA) NEVER let anyone pressure you in to reading. Let them know that once you are ready, you will read. (Ash Hartridge – MA) No one expects the pieces that are read out to be fantastic - it's kind of just an excuse to perform and share your work and ideas. Obviously you don't want to read out something you haven’t spent much time on, but it isn’t imperative that the work is flawless. (John Oxnard – 2nd year)

A personal note from me to you - I just want to say a HUGE thank you to you all. This year we have only had three Open Reading events (so far) and each one of them has brought about quite the gathering including; first years, second years, third years, MA students, teachers, fellow ‘new generation’ writers and students from other courses. As a new manager (new to the role in general as well as managing the event itself) I would just like to express that it is always a working progress of trial and error with the intention of sharing what we do with not just each other but with others as well. I’m always trying to improve with each and every event until it is my turn to pass the torch. I encourage constructive criticism from you all, because this is not just about the individual, but as a collective… We are a family, and I just want us to grow from strength to strength. Next Open Reading Night – Tuesday 9th December (Want to host an ORN event? Email me – danordannymartin@connect.glos.ac.uk)

A big thank you to Yates’! BY CHARL HARRISON

As you may know, Yates’ are our fantastic magazine sponsors, giving us the money we need to make this possible and being the hosts of our issue parties! A few weeks back, Yates’ got a new menu and were kind enough to invite us to try out their new food and drink selection for free. Naturally, as poor students, we were there. We were surrounded by many various UoG societies, so it was a fantastic atmosphere. We were given some delicious food, such as chicken wings, chips and a Thai chicken curry (which isn’t something I’d usually go for, but turned out to be my favourite). We were also given several pitchers of cocktails including a ‘Pina Colada’, ‘Cheeky V’, ‘Sex on the Beach’ and a ‘Woo Woo’. I love cocktails and you can’t complain when Yates’ give you two pitchers for £10 or two glasses for just £6.95…fantastic deals for students.

Since then, I’ve had a nosy at their Christmas menu and it looks amazing. With mains including a traditional Christmas turkey dinner, Salmon or Goat’s Cheese Tart and a build-your-own-buffet option, why not head there for a Christmas gathering before the end of term? Two courses are just £8.95 or three for £10.95, and they even do a package including a cocktail-making class which I’ve not seen offered anywhere else. Yates’ have also been kind enough not only to give our competition winner a bottle of Prosecco (see page 28), but to also give all our readers a free cocktail… just take the voucher on the opposite page to the bar! Thanks to Yates’ for their fantastic support and see you at the next issue party!

FREE COCKTAIL 27

Exciting news! Here at Show Don’t Tell, we’re hosting our first competition! Want to take part? Tweet us at @uogshowdonttell with a story/poem that’s 140 characters or less Use the hashtag #140Story

The team will vote for their favourites, which we’ll read out at the next open mic night (9th December) and we’ll also announce the winner. The winner, and our favourites, will also appear in the next issue. So, for the chance to win a bottle of Prosecco from Yates’ and a spot in the next issue, get your entries in now! The competition starts today and runs up to Wednesday 3rd December. The winner will be notified via Twitter and presented with a bottle of Prosecco at open mic night.

Good luck! 28

Read the newspapers or think of something you feel strongly about and write about it... It’s cathartic and can be powerful.

Write something that makes you have an emotional response. Write something that makes you laugh or angry or sad.

DAN MARTIN

Read your work out loud.

SAMMIE CAIN

MAZ COPE

In short stories ,never use more than two main characters, it can get confusing otherwise!

Start with an interesting sentence, and make each sentence as interesting as the last!

ANDREEA BOCANCEA

AMY TWIST

TRIGGER OF THE MONTH Try writing in second person. It really challenges you as a writer and you might even enjoy it!

Attend every workshop even if can’t submit much…you learn so much about your writing and it’s great to read other pieces for inspiration and bounce ideas off your peers!

CHARL HARRISON

ASH SAUNDERS 29

Events

Thursday 20th November Social at the S.U - 9:30pm Thursday 27th November Bar crawl starting at the S.U - 7:30pm Tuesday 9th December Open Mic Night at The Frog & Fiddle - 8pm Thursday 11th December Christmas social - dress festively! More details to follow

DON’T MISS THE NEXT ISSUE OF SHOW DON’T TELL! OUT TUESDAY 20TH JANUARY 2015 30

@uogshowdonttell facebook.com/uogshowdonttell uogshowdonttell@gmail.com

issuu.com/uogshowdonttell 32