Show Don't Tell: Issue 1 by UoG Show Don't Tell

An interview with Dr. Martin Randall

FLASH FICTION & POETRY WORKSHOP GUIDE TIPS & TRIGGERS

THE C.W SOCIETY THE PAGE BURNER, THE PAGE TURNER

The Team EDITOR Charl Harrison CONTRIBUTERS Andreea Bocancea Philip Bowne Sammie Cain Maz Cope Davey Evans Amy Ford Rod Griffiths Tara-Marie Hurst Dan Martin Eve Matthews Reece McCormack Carina Mitchell John Oxnard Charlie Patterson Mary Pipikakis Dec Reeves Alice Rowan David Smith Tim Smith PHOTOGRAPHY AND ILLUSTRATIONS Andreea Bocancea Charl Harrison Alice Rowan Amy Twist SOCIAL MEDIA Charl Harrison Alice Rowan

Hello!

ISSUE 1

I’m Charl and welcome to the first issue of Show Don’t Tell! I’m a third year and am super excited to be working with other years and my fellow third years to bring you this (hopefully) wonderful magazine! This first issue is all-thingsfreshers. We’ve got workshop tips, what to expect from our lecturers, information on our open mics and lots more, including a handy map of the best places for Creative Writing students to visit in Cheltenham! So, whether you’re a Creative Writing student or not, sit back, grab a cuppa and enjoy!

Charl Charl Harrison Editor

Editor’s Picks OPEN MIC NIGHTS

PAGE 18

INTERVIEW WITH MARTIN RANDALL

THE PAGE BURNER, THE PAGE TURNER

PAGE 7

PAGE 17

FLASH! FICTION & POETRY

PAGE 12

facebook.com/uogshowdonttell

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

Contents 5. Freshers! What to Expect from Creative Writing

Things you can expect from lecturers and their lectures 6. Cheltenham for Creative Writing Students

A guide to Cheltenham for Creative Writing students 7. Interview with Martin Randall

Davey Evans has a chat with Randall! 10. The Creative Writing Society

Whatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s happening in our new society

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12. Flash! Fiction & Poetry

A selection of flash fiction and poetry by students

17. The Page Burner, The Page Turner

Book reviews featuring the bad and good 18. Open Mic Night

All about the best Creative Writing night! 19. Workshop Guide

Some great tips for workshopping your pieces 20. Meet the... Third Year Reps

A bit about our third year reps! 21. Tips & Triggers

Some tips for your next workshop submission... 22. Events

Anything writing-related thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s happening soon!

FANCY READING ONLINE? www.issuu.com/uogshowdonttell

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Freshers! What to Expect from Creative Writing… BY MAZ COPE

Congrats freshers, you’ve made it to uni and enrolled on our epically awesome course. Not biased at all. You’re full of adrenaline and booze from the party the night before, so I’ll make this quick. There are a few things from each lecture and lecturer you need to be prepared for. Don’t worry, they won’t bite. Seriously though, they are a great bunch and will help you. You will find that the more you put into this course, the more you’ll get out of it. Here are three top rules for writing: 1.

First thing you need to know about prose is to indent the paragraphs. For those of you who are a little unsure on how to indent a paragraph...well it is simple really. Press the key above the Caps Lock. Do this with every new paragraph. Only use a space in between paragraphs to show a change of time.

Clichés are BAD! So don’t use them… you will be moaned at and they make you look thick.

Last but not least, NO ADVERBS… Stephen King and J.K Rowling are bad influences who do this. You don’t need to say he ran quickly… cos unless you are a tortoise, running is quick.

These rules will obviously be covered in lectures. Pay attention as the lecturers will only make you a better writer if you are willing to put an effort in.

RICHARD FUCKING FORD!

Here are some key things you’ll notice about the lecturers. I bet when it comes to attending lectures, you’ll remember this article and I hope, find it funny. Angela: She will get you to use concrete imagery in your poems. She will pick out the strongest line and get you to start it from there. She gets that forms in poetry can be a real headache but she will help you to work with it. Lucy: She’s an established playwright, who may use the word ‘like’ a lot when she speaks but that is just her. You will learn to pick plays apart and she will encourage you to attend theatre more than once in your life. She will take your play from obscure and methylated to normality. Watch out for the duck! Martin: His debates will undoubtedly change your previous held opinions and views. His rants you’ll find informative, inspiring and hilarious. Just don’t get him started on Anarchy, the royal family and terrible authors, such as Dan Brown. He will mention a few times a year David Foster Wallace. He will encourage you to read more. Do it, as reading will improve your grammar and punctuation. Mike: He is the enthusiastic lecturer, who, like Bruno Tonioli (Strictly Come Dancing), is flamboyant and expressive. Even when giving a PowerPoint , he springs into action like the Genie from Aladdin. He will do a chicken dance, jumping on the tables to make his point. He will mention Richard Fucking Ford a few times this year. He has many stories to tell, all of which will help you along the way of the course. Nigel: He loves a good PowerPoint. He will get you to say what your poem means, what’s the point, to find the extra layer and dig deeper. He will challenge your views when he thinks you are wrong, like a Jack Russell who will never let up. Tyler: He’s renowned for his sexy Canadian accent. He has won the People’s Choice category of the 2014 Wales Book of the Year Awards for his acclaimed second novel, The Drive. This chilled Canadian tells it how it is.

BY DAVEY EVANS

BY DAVEY EVANS & ALICE ROWAN

Dr. Martin Randall talks to Davey Evans about his life before becoming a lecturer...

Name: My name’s Martin Randall. Occupation: I’m a senior lecturer in Creative Writing at the University of Gloucestershire. Highest Qualification: PhD in English Literature. Davey. Martin, I’ve been trying to figure out where you’re from. Martin. I’m from Cheltenham. D. You’re from Cheltenham originally? M. I am. D. And where did you go to university? M. Here as well. D. Here as well? How many years did it take you? M. It took three years to do my degree, and then I did an MA and then it took four years to do my PhD. So I have to resist the narrative of an ill-educated ruffian prole made good. Which is something I’ve tried to resist my entire life. I resent the implication that I was once poor and thick, and now I’m poor and clever. D. I feel I can relate [to that] coming from a working class South West London background. M. Well no-one’s ever asked me so it never comes up. I mean, I used to be a cleaner and I read way more books and wrote way more when I was a cleaner compared to what I do now as a lecturer. Partly because I had loads more time then, but also I was very driven and I taught myself a lot. D. Is it hard being a lecturer and being a writer? Which one would you say you are first; a lecturer or a writer? M. Oh, I’m a lecturer first, yeah. I love teaching. But I wrote loads over the summer, we get long summer holidays.

D. I’ve been trying to figure out what would be the best direction to go out of university. How do I find a job that will satisfy both the needs of working and writing? M. Yeah, well I suppose that’s an interesting question is that in theory it should be a lecturer, right? You’re constantly surrounded by books, surrounded by writers. I can afford to sit here and chat to you, so it should be that. When I left school I worked in pubs, cleaning jobs, driving jobs and I wrote loads and got stuff published and read loads. I felt like I had quite of an education. It’s just that I wasn’t directed towards anything. I think the greatest sort of secret history of the working class that is often very true of working class people is that they often educate themselves for various reasons. I remember I used to clean a shop and I was told- I was given a sort of toothbrush type thing- and I was told to clean the gunk out of the drains and it was an early morning job on my hands and knees cleaning out these drains. And people were walking past me, I could see it on their faces what they thought of me. That they thought I was stupid. I remember thinking then ‘I must be thick because I’m doing this job’. Another thought came into my head which was ‘That’s not true at all. I’m not thick at all. I haven’t got any qualifications or anything and I screwed up school, but I’m not thick’. I don’t like the thought that once I was one thing and now I’m another thing. I don’t feel particularly respectable, like I’ve moved up any kind of ladder. D. You’ve just gathered labels rather? M. Yeah, I suppose so. The thing is I’ve got an enormous chip on my shoulder. There isn’t actually any space left on my shoulder for anything else other than this chip which I’ve harboured over the years. That was what got me into trouble at school and continues to get me into trouble now really, which is not liking being told what to do. D. Is that specifically the chip, the anti-authority? M. I didn’t like the teachers at school, I didn’t like being told what to do, so I faffed about. Then came to uni and I realised people weren’t telling me what to do they were just trying to help me, help me become an academic. I realised that’s what I wanted to do. I was good at it and I like doing it and on a PhD noone tells you what to do, you are just left on your own. Clearly I went mad. D. Was that daunting? M. Yeah, looking back it was intensely lonely and really difficult and I did I think go a little bit crazy. But I did survive. Loads of PhD students will tell you exactly the same thing. It’s a mental thing to do, just spend three or four years doing exactly what you want. It’s mental. It’s mad. I went whole weeks where I didn’t speak to anybody. I just ate baked beans and stared out of the window going increasingly mad. D. You said you were writing a lot before you came to university, what was your inspiration behind writing? M. I think I wrote poetry to try and seduce women. And that didn’t work. So then I started writing prose and I wrote three novels that are all unpublished, all not very good. I wrote them on an old typewriter. My inspiration was I think probably to sound like Martin Amis, who was my hero at the time and I loved his books and I wanted to sound like him really. He was a big influence. I was reading notes and copying those kind of books. I was really big into Albert Camus and I wrote an autobiographical novel, which was ridiculous.

D. How old were you when you wrote that? M. I was about twenty-four. D. So you were a front runner for the Katie Price style early biographies? M. The problem with writing an autobiographical novel at 24, well if you haven’t actually done anything it’s quite a challenge. It was just about that really. But also a quality I feel is important is feeling like an outsider and I feel like I was on the outside of society. There’s something useful and important for a writer to feel they’re not in mainstream society, they’re at the edge of it looking in. It’s a bit difficult when you’re at university because you are kind of co-opted into the institution to a degree. I still feel like really not part of the real world. D. We’ve got a lecture coming up with you in HM5000 about traumatic events in particular and I know that can be closely linked to transgressive writing. So should traumatic events always be open to creative interpretation? M. That’s a good question. My honest answer is that I don’t know. I think that there are some subjects that potentially resist representation. I’ve just been reading and studying Martin Amis’ latest novel which is set in Auschwitz and he describes a number of sequences that are very difficult to write about and read about. Whether or not he’s allowed to do that? I don’t know. He’s done it. It’s up to us to judge. There are some writers and thinkers who believe that there are some subject matters that one should not fictionalise. Clearly the word fiction when related to traumatic events is a very problematic word, because it implies lying. An example of this is the Amis novel as far as I can tell, and I have studied the Holocaust, everything he’s written about happened. He’s clearly done a lot of research.

“I still don’t want art to comfort me and to tell me that things are alright.”

D. What was the first piece of literature that shocked you? M. Albert Camus’ novel L’Étranger. There is a moment, an assault, made by one of the lead characters that, seemingly on a whim, murders a man. There doesn’t seem to be any motivation for it, doesn’t do it for any other reason that he can. He is caught and tried for the murder and at the end of the book is sitting with a priest who comes to offer him redemption and Meursault (a protagonist in L’Etranger) basically tells him to ‘Fuck off’ he doesn’t want redemption, he doesn’t believe in god and I read that when I was nineteen, twenty. That probably shocked me and made me realise I was an atheist, made me realise that the world is sort of intrinsically meaningless. That’s what I wanted out of books and films and art. I still don’t want art to comfort me and to tell me that things are alright. When I know that they’re not. I don’t want art to placate me. D. Provocation in art? M. Yeah, I like that. If you tell me there’s a feel-good movie I couldn’t care less about it, there are other ways to feel good. I don’t think art needs to pander to us. When I was seven I wanted to be an adult. I was sick of being a kid and I wanted everything that adults had. And I was right, being an adult in of itself i.e. you can watch anything, you can do anything you like, that’s great. The problem of being an adult is that you’ve got to work and pay bills. I knew that was boring and it is boring. But I wanted adult stuff and then I read that book and I thought ‘This is what I wanted out of art’. I wanted to be woken up a little bit. Alice Rowan. What are your three must read books? M. Well, I’ve got Mike (Johnstone, not present but represented by a football on a stick and some gaudy football top) shouting in my ear Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace. I’d say White Noise by Don DeLillo and- I’m just looking at my shelves, I think you should read The Sportswriter by Richard Ford. Those are three men, hold on let me get a woman in there. You should read Beloved by Toni Morrison.

The

Creative BY JOHN OXNARD AND MARY PIPIKAKIS

The Creative Writing Society was formed for the 2014/15 academic year, by a small group of second years who wanted to share their course with the rest of the university. One of the core qualities of the Creative Writing course is the way that the separate year groups overlap, in both an academic sense, with shared modules between years, and a social sense, with various open micâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s and gatherings occurring throughout the semesters. The community feeling of the course is something that makes it unique and encourages a blending of styles, ideas, and abilities between years. All of this was the spawn of the idea for the society. We intend for it to be our way of sharing the course with anyone outside of our course, as well as encouraging those studying Creative Writing to really get involved with one another. The most important thing to take away from the course, aside from a degree, is the ability to write well. Admittedly, those two things are very closely related. One of the most useful elements of the course to improve writing is the workshop process, which is an integral part of most creative writing modules. The workshop process, for those unacquainted, is rather simple. A portion, usually half, of a class will submit their work to be critiqued. The next week, when the workshop is in session, fellow students as well as their lecturer, will provide them with feedback about the piece, and how they feel it could be improved or changed. This process is something that we definitely wanted to incorporate into the society, since it has proved to be so beneficial. But more than that, we wanted first years to experience a workshop with second and third year students, as well as the occasional Masters student, and in the same vein, the course/non-course students also mixing. With this comes a wealth of technique and ideas about writing, forming a unique creative workshop for a wide range of work â&#x20AC;&#x201C; from prose pieces, to poetry, leaving plenty of room for dramatic writing; anything writing related can be submitted by anyone who wants help or advice.

Writing

Society

Another ambition of the society, is the University of Gloucestershire Fringe Festival, planned for the summer of 2015. With it being some time away, a lot of details are still only at the stage of being pencilled in, but essentially, the Fringe festival will be a showcase for the arts and talents of the students at the university. It will be headed predominantly by second year students during semester two. Though with so much to organise and establish it would be a great experience for those wanting to be involved, either with the logistics and organisation, or the performing side of the Fringe. Both aspects will be in high demand come 2015, and we intend to hit the ground running. If you happen to have any vague ideas you think might be worth fine tuning, start now, so that come January it can be forwarded directly to the second years to incorporate into the inaugural UoG Fringe. One of the most important aspects of the course is the sense of community amongst us. Being comfortable with each other results in the ability to workshop each other well, because we have the confidence to be honest with each other. This is something we want to spread through the year groups and through the society too. So, to bond and get to know each other as a group, and to just have some fun together, we have the socials. Socials will mostly be a fortnightly affair and will involve drinks, dancing and other festivities. Some of the events will be themed, but mostly they’ll just be good nights that enable us to blow of some steam and do some alcohol induced bonding. In addition to this, there are the open mics which are hosted by Dan Martin, which give us the opportunity to get up on stage and share our work with each other. Although these nights sound quite intimidating there is no pressure to them, you can come along have a drink and get up and read if you fancy it. Alternatively you can just sit back and enjoy the work of others. Now of course, despite the myth about uni students, not all of us are drinkers. Due to this we’re going to have some socials that don’t centre around drinking, such as coffee afternoons and theatre trips. This enables all students to be able to mix and hopefully offers something for everyone. We will of course be happy to take suggestions with regards to socials, so if there is anything you guys fancy doing we can work on making that happen. The Theatre scene in Cheltenham is very active and so we want to be arranging trips to see performances. Our dramatic writing lecturer, Lucy Tyler, keeps us up to date with events that are taking place with the theatre company she’s involved with. We also play forage, so if anyone sees plays they’d like to go see you can post about them in the Facebook group and we can go together. These nights will be interesting for all those who are interested in dramatic writing, as it enables us to see how scripts change when they’re preformed, but also are a really good source of inspiration for whatever you may want to write. They’re also a fun way of mixing academia with a social aspect. To find out what’s going on within the society, join the Facebook group, UOG CREATIVE WRITING SOCIETY, to keep up to date with all our antics! We’re going to try and make sure there is something for everyone. If you have any questions or want to be involved in anything in particular feel free to contact any of the committee members: Davey Evans (President), Mary Pipikakis (Vice President), John Oxnard (Treasurer), Carina Mitchell (Secretary), Charl Harrison (Show Don’t Tell Editor) and Daniel Martin (Host of the Open Mic nights). Feel free to message any of us with any questions, and welcome to the society!

Fiction & Poetry

MY INCUBUS BY SAMMIE CAIN Flames consume me as I'm held in your unfathomable arms, You find my chasms and my pits and you devour me, I cling to the demonic horn and crave my release, Clear sweat drips from your clear brow, I gasp as you smile an unseen smile, You are the spectre of lust, And you leave me hollowed out, empty, and alone.

SNUG BY AMY FORD The soft touch of yellowed pages, Shelved whispers wanting to shout. The wind begs to come in To feel the soft touch of yellowed pages. Coldâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s finger flexes through a crack, I reach for the gin. Its burn makes me cough, but keeps me warm As I touch soft yellowed pages, And shelved whispers try to shout. The fire chokes as the wind sings And night turns marmalade, as the dawn Touches the soft surface of yellowed pages And hears shelved whispers wanting to shout.

SLIM CHANCE BY ANDREEA BOCANCEA Ten, possibly twelve I think In Kilograms that I Gained? I guess And it started to Maybe show, a little You know, the softness Of a thicker layer And it was just, when I only wore the most Comfortable? I guess Most stretchy, loosest Clothing, and it wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t until Some of the things From only but a year ago Started to pinch, or Possibly give me a struggle In pulling Tugging Wearing Shoving It deeper into the wardrobe And buying a bigger size Regrettably, in the future But still hording the Piles upon and piles of And piles of Clothes, that still feel too Tight. You know, hoping that By drinking that extra glass Eating that little less I had Gotten used to Eating That I would look a little Slimmer Smoother Less folding when I turn my back and it kinks like a roll of dough but sometimes it would Look that just better Just that straighter And I would feel healthier Back to myself And I could feel the numbers lowering With the slighter smoothness Of my skin, on my stomach Of all the minutes and hours Time : Accumulated Staring in the bathroom mirror. Casually, I would remind Myself I still weigh the same Weird, right My perception made me Just that little more Likeable? OK - with myself You know? Slim chance that I would Almost, start to think I look good Without changing.

THE SHELL BY CHARLIE PATTERSON She'd passed on now, but left him the shell. He'd been in London when the news had found him, and he'd taken the latest train that he could, down to the old town, rattling south under the surf and spray of the Cornish skies. In the narrow solicitor's office down by the old town's quay on a street that stank of sea salt and smoke, he'd been handed the key, copper, flowering, algae green with verdigris. They'd pressed his hand and pushed him out, left him to walk the seaside track alone up to the cliffs, where the house was waiting, half sunken in the sandy hilltop. The shell was rotting now, a pebbled tooth of yellow plaster, cracked and rubbed down to a gritty shine. Stepping onto the porch, he could see the windows, round and pink as earlobes, still held the scalloped curtains he'd bought her. They swam like weeds on the empty sills. He stood before the door, chipped alabaster white, the door that they had painted together one morning in the Summer, or was it Spring? The knocker, a studden gold ring, was long gone leaving a dark, metal plate like a hole. In the square of black glass in the centre, he thought he could see the reflection of a man, standing on the porch with his suitcase and his suit, desperate to be off to other places, anywhere that wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t here. He took out the key and opened the shell. Moving through the hollow hall, where the silver conches hung on china plates, his mind swam back to summers spent soaking in salt, and swallow-diving down in the shallows, where the white shells were. He could see her, rising pale from the surf in a tangle of hair, black silk and silver water, glittering like a seal, the conches strung on a belt on her arm. He could smell her. Salt in her hair. He reached the gaunt stairs, and took them as softly as he could, determined not to disturb the house. It was no good. The treads cracked and rattled under his feet, as though ten men were ascending. They groaned and shook, just as she had, as he'd carried her up, night after night, sweating and fitting in his arms, ageing before his eyes, until he couldn't take it any more. Until he had to get away. At first, he couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t enter the bedroom, a den of billowing sheets, mortuary white. The scalloped curtains twisted on the sill, drowning in air. His hands trembled on the doorframe. As soon as his foot crossed the threshold, the room fell still. The wind dropped to a whisper in his ear, like the drumbeat of deep water. He stood there, unsure, squinting into each corner, like staring into an opening in the seabed, the reeds, still, the fish, deserted. Too quiet for nothing to be living there. He looked at the bed that they had slept in together, the bedclothes undressed by the wind, wrinkled, white waves on a white shoreline. He remembered holding her, lying on the egg white crescent, as the waves buttered the sand at their feet, her skin, warm and wet. Cold water and hot blood. The smell of her. He took a deep breath. Then he entered the dead room, the salt-sweet tang of her hair rising from the wet curtains.

CLICHÉ BY ROD GRIFFITHS All that could be seen in the dark was a small window and a single shaft of moonlight. 'We’re in trouble now.' 'Why?' 'Look at that – we’re stuck in a cliché.' 'You mean one of those phrases that used to be good, but has been used too often.' 'Exactly. How many horror stories have you read with a single shaft of moonlight?' 'It’s the single shaft that does it.' 'A pool of moonlight on the floor would have been just as bad.' 'You mean like a dark and stormy night.' 'Yes.' 'But it is a dark and stormy night. That’s why we came in here.' 'There must be some way out of here, but it's too dark to see.' 'There must be some way out of here, said the joker to the thief.' 'You what?' 'It’s a Bob Dylan song. All along the watchtower.' 'There isn’t a watchtower.' 'But it’s still a cliché.' The whole cellar is lit up as a bolt of lightening crashes outside and rain drums on the tiny window. 'Through the mad mystic hammering of the wild ripping hail, the sky cracked its poems in naked wonder' 'Very poetic, isn’t that Bob Dylan too?' 'Yeah, but it’s not a cliché, no-one else uses it.' 'So?' 'So it’s the Chimes of Freedom.' 'You’ve lost me.' 'Just listen for the chimes of that grandfather clock. It's in the hall right by the front door. That’s the way out.' 'My hearings not that good.' 'Hold my hand and I’ll take you there. Hold my hand and we're half way there.' 'You got those lines the wrong way round.' 'What the hell, walk backwards.'

From FORGET-ME-NOT BY PHILIP BOWNE

Halfway through the lunch hour, we came down from the yellow hilltop. I left Mohammad sitting in the shade, holding onto my bottle. I walked inside for water. I felt empty, covered in a second skin of sweat. Drank as much as I could. When I went back outside to check on him, he wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t there. Checked the school buildings. Nothing. "Have you seen Mohammad?" I asked the Italian boys. "No," one said. The rest looked at me with downturned mouths and shrugged their shoulders. "Why?" Before I could acknowledge the question, I made for the hill. Nearly trampled over a few of the girls lying in the long grass. I could see that the clouds had etched a black spot in the sky away to the East. But he wasn't there. "Mohammad!" I yelled his name between lungfuls of hot air. Propping myself up against the bench with my back to the school, I looked through the fence. It frustrated me to see how close the footballs and the other toys were. As I rattled the fence, Champs-Ă&#x2030;lysĂŠes started up again. At the sound, I stopped. Looking down over the playground, I could see Mohammad standing beside the French girls, clapping his hands. A couple of the boys danced around with the song. I could picture the way he smiled, how his cheeks bunched up into apples below his eyes. I walked down to the playground. Before the final chorus, the bell for lessons rang. Mohammad went to collect my bottle from the shaded spot where I'd left him. He looked at me and knew that I'd seen it was empty. Apples dropped from his cheeks. I looked away, ushering the other children along to their lessons. Once all the children left, I collected the parcel I'd left for him that morning and carried it to the hilltop, to the fence and the glade. The skipping rope still dangled on its branch. I stepped back and squeezed the globe in the palm of my hand. Running my thumb over the smooth plastic, I traced my fingertip from Tripoli, past Tunis and Malta, across the Mediterranean -- between Sardinia and the Balearic Islands, up through the south of France, Paris, and across the Channel. I raised my head and threw the globe up and over the fence. It carried in the wind and cracked hard against a tree stump, resting somewhere out of sight, hidden in the lilyturf.

What if there were second chances? And third chances? In fact an infinite number of chances to live your life? Would you eventually be able to save the world from its own inevitable destiny? And would you even want to? I had high hopes for this book. As a big fan of the infinite universes theory and films such as Sliding Doors, the concept seemed very appealing, if a little cliché. Noticing a contents page listing a series of reoccurring chapter titles and interweaving dates I was instantly intrigued. This book has a lot of promise and a strong, if difficult to write, concept. So I continued turning to the novel itself. With over six hundred pages to its name, Life after Life has the tough job of keeping a reader hooked for the long run. It couldn’t even keep me hooked for thirty pages. I understand that there is a lot of the book I haven’t discovered and have come across many a person who has told me to be patient, to let the book develop. But I refuse. I do not have time in my life for anything, especially books that cannot hold my attention. Full of clichés and ‘suddenly’s, even within the first paragraph I had come to regret my decision to buy this book. But still I persevered, I really tried my hardest and after the first three chapters I couldn’t cope anymore. Atkinson could really do with a writing technique we have come to know as Chekhov’s razor. Not one word of the first thirty pages of this book gave me any information on the plot, the concept or even the main character. The only questions this book leaves me with are how on earth did it ever win any prizes? And how was anyone patient enough to really read it?

I’ll tell you what happened because it will be a good way to introduce my brother. His name’s Simon. I think you’re going to like him. I really do. But in a few pages he’ll be dead. And he was never the same after that. Instinctively I thought many a good thing about this book. Sometimes you can just tell, and as a writer with a soft spot for first person narration I knew I was on to a good’n. I have always had a high interest in books that break standard writing conventions; Cecelia Ahern’s Where Rainbows End is a personal favourite of mine due to its unusual layout – and The Shock of the Fall does not disappoint. It’s not all that often you find an unreliable and objectively unlikable narrator who you not only sympathise with, but actually want to help. This book isn’t a simple case of making a victim out of a criminal, it is an in depth and thought-provoking look at mental health. The Shock of the Fall manages what often seems impossible in literature – a balanced, impartial and most importantly realistic portrayal of what it is to have mental health issues. This book is a magnificent, detailed and heart-breaking piece of transgressive literature. It is the first book that I have ever finished and wanted to read again straight away. Right now, a month and two books later, I worry I will never find a book to match up to this, but really I don’t know if I want to.

REVIEWS BY ALICE ROWAN Alice Rowan is a second-year English Language and Creative Writing student at the uni. She is involved in projects such as The Virtual Cohort and the upcoming Glos Fringe Festival. Check out her blog at bluecollarrevolver.wordpress.com.

BOOK COVERS COURTESY OF HARPER COLLINS & RANDOM HOUSE

BY DAN MARTIN Open reading nights have, from what I can gather from attending them and speaking with previous managers, evolved and changed with each person looking after the events. This year, I am managing the open reading events and I hope to bring and encourage; structure, entertainment, personality, individuality, passion, drama, and versatility. It truly is an evening of exploration where the audience can decide to either observe and celebrate creativity or engage and interact with the experience by braving the stage and sharing. From first years to Masters students and teachers; from Creative Writing to Criminology, Psychology and other disciplines, the event is like no other that I have experienced before. It is definitely something I feel strongly passionate about as well as proud to be affiliated with alongside the university and the establishment in which the evening takes place, The Frog and Fiddle. Within the Barn at the venue, which is ideal for live performances, students have contributed elements of; coming of age, erotica, the horrific, thought provocation, sentiment, originality as well as the bizarre in a multitude of forms which varies with each individual’s imagination. Each evening will be accompanied by a theme, for example, the last open reading night (7th October) was called ‘The Return’ but the evenings won’t be restricted to just the themes as it limits what is already an exhaustible course. The next open reading night is already booked in for Tuesday 21st October and the aim is to have one every two to three weeks. More information will be made public as the academic year progresses.

It is a social evening with a sense of adventure and mystery as individuals make their way through the crowds of cheers and applauds (moral support in a positive environment with no heckling). Participants read a passage from their very own prose, play, or collection of poems or anything that they want to share with everyone else (inspirational, entertaining or a small stroke of genius). I remember the first one I went to, first year at the start, I felt like we were eased into what already seemed like a well-established night, feeling nervous going up on stage to perform in front of people I barely knew or didn’t even know at all. My right foot would tap. I could not only feel but also hear my heart pumping so hard, heavy and loud, during the whole performance and my voice would tremble, but the rush at the end as I said the last words and nodded to the audience… oh the rush! It’s totally worth it and even though it is addictive, I still get those nerves and that rush. I would, and do, recommend it to anyone, a Creative Writing student or not.

Workshops Why are they a good thing? (and how to do it effectively) BY CARINA MITCHELL Workshops can be a scary idea for those who are not used to handing over their writing to anyone other than their closest family members and even keep it in hidden folders so they might never see the light of day. To be an effective writer though, you must be willing to let go of your work and trust in others to help you develop it. If you hope one day that your work will be published then you will probably have to go through the process of an Editor looking at it. Better first that you learn how to deal with your writing being critiqued by those who you will be learning with now, than by a complete stranger that might cause you to be so devastated you may never want to write again.

So how do you become an effective workshopper? 1.

Firstly make sure you attend every one you are timetabled to go to, even if you are not submitting work they can be a great learning experience.

Be sure to critique other people’s work. This can be done by writing notes or using review on word to embed comments into the document; this can either be printed or emailed to the writer. Being handed written notes by a fellow colleagues is like receiving a gift and you are more likely to receive a critique in return. The one who turns up and rarely critiques other people’s work can soon find themselves having less and less said about theirs.

Read what people have written about your work and act upon it. If several people have told you that the Troll that hides under the bridge and has no part in your narrative should be cut entirely then cut it. No matter how much you want your piece to contain a Troll, trust in your colleagues. Again, it will encourage them to critique your work in the future.

“I really liked your writing style”

Introducing… The Shit Sandwich What should you be critiquing?

“But I thought that the second paragraph could be cut” “I also really liked how realistic your characters were through the dialogue”

Often Grammar and spelling errors will be noted on by lecturers so focus on the story itself. Does it make sense in the way it is told? Is it realistic enough, are there any specific details, strong nouns etc that should be used? Does it include a topic that the writer does not understand much about but you do? Is it telling more than showing? Is the narrative flowing or stunted and jumps about too much? Is the dialogue natural or do the characters all sound the same? All of this is what you should be looking for and commenting on. The skill of being able to critique is one that comes with practice and can only be developed by reading what a good story should be and taking part in workshops. Using the workshops organised by the Creative Writing Society can be a good way to progress this skill as you will be working alongside those of other years and with a greater level of experience. 19

third year reps! DAN MARTIN I’m Dan or Danny Martin (as it is on my student card - take your pick) and I study full time as a mature student (33) and now in my third year I have over a year’s experience in representing. I also manage the Open Reading Nights as I have a real passion and enthusiasm for my course and stories (writing them, listening to them and reading them). I thought I was a poet when I first started university but as time went on I found myself very interested in a new subject for me, Drama. I have had the best time thus far (support, learning, fun, etc.) and these will be some of the best years of your life… so soak it up like a sponge and just enjoy it. PS. When it comes to films, songs, books, etc… I like anything and everything as long as it is good and well made. I like to make friends and be social, but I can be shy so good job I like to drink. Contact Dan: danordannymartin@connect.glos.ac.uk. If Dan is unavailable, please contact the other two reps:

HAYLEY BARNES hayleybarnes@connect.glos.ac.uk

NEIL BREWER neilbrewer@connect.glos.ac.uk

'Go for a walk, or, if possible, a run. Don't rush and don't take headphones. Just look, listen, contemplate and think.'

TIM SMITH

‘Conceptualise while stoned, write drunk, edit sober’

Eavesdrop and people watch...you never know what you might find for inspiration! MARY PIPIKAKIS TARA-MARIE HURST

“

Since writing is very subjective, it is hard to give solid advice that would apply to all who read it.

The most important thing for me with writing, is to find a source of inspiration or an idea that feels like it can fulfil whatever purpose is needed. An idea for a short story, for instance, really can be quite simple. 2000 words flies by faster than you might expect once you get descriptions and details and the flow of your writing underway. A novel idea however, would need the potential to be expanded a great deal more than a 2000 word short story. 1. FIND A SUITABLE IDEA, AND THE PIECE WILL BEGIN WRITING ITSELF. 2. JUST WRITE. Often, you’ll be stuck in a rut – the infamous writers block – and will not be able to get past page 2, or 300 words. JUST WRITE. Skip forward to the next scene, or stanza, or even a different piece of writing altogether. AND WRITE. Then return to the ‘block’ and see if anything has fallen into place. Often the workshop process will assist in overcoming the problem. 3. TALK TO THE LECTURERS. THEY KNOW STUFF. THEY ARE AWESOME AND MORE THAN WILLING TO SIT DOWN AND HELP YOU OUT IF YOU’RE REALLY STUCK OR UNSURE ABOUT SOMETHING. 4. MAKE YOUR CHARACTERS REAL. Make them feel grounded. They can be in the most obscure scenario, but if they don’t feel real, or act and speak realistically then everything falls apart. 5. There is a fine balance between PLOT vs CHARACTER. You must use one to advance the other, and vice versa. Character development should transition into plot development, and your plot should work to improve your characters. 6. READ ELINOR FUCH’S ESSAY ‘E.F’s Visit to a Small Planet’ which you can find on Moodle. Then apply what she says to all your writing. Because it explains the idea of ‘making things work within the context of the piece’ much better than I can.

You decide to stay for one more drink.

”

JOHN OXNARD

October 2014 MON

T UE

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COFFEE SOCIAL AT BOSTON TEA PARTY 7PM

‘PLACES I

MAG LAUNCH AT YATES 8PM

OPEN MIC AT FROG &

SOCIAL AT S.U 8:30PM

REMEMBER’ MONOLOGUES

COPA 7:30PM

FIDDLE 7:30PM

FANCY DRESS SOCIAL AT S.U 8:30PM

DON’T MISS THE NEXT ISSUE OF

TUESDAY 18TH NOVEMBER 2014 22

UPCOMING LAUNCHES Tuesday 14th October Tuesday 18th November

UPCOMING SOCIALS Thursday 16th October—free cocktails and food for society members! Tuesday 21st October—drinks after open mic Wednesday 22nd October FOR MORE INFORMATION AND UPDATES, JOIN OUR SOCIETY GROUP AND LIKE OUR MAGAZINE PAGE ON FACEBOOK!