Yorkshire

Flash Fiction, maps, and a poetry pamphlet

It was the Northern Short Story Festival on Saturday, courtesy of Leeds Big Bookend, and I went along to take part in the Flash Fiction Slam, a kind of competitive open mic. There are lots of photos here on Flickr including an unfortunate/amusing one of me with what can only be described as an expressive reading face on. Masses of variety on show, I was outclassed by Lynn Bauman-Milner doing a dark and intense take on Cinderella while I opted for The Invisible Woman, which you may have read here on Reflex Fiction recently. Neither of us won.

Mark the artist (who’d come along with OneMonkey to be supportive) and I ended up talking to the illustrator Simon Smith for ages. There are photos of that too, if you’re interested. Among other things, Si worked on Stories from the Forests of Leeds with Daniel Ingram-Brown, a genius idea where writers (amateur and otherwise) around Leeds created characters based on area names then developed stories around them. I would love to see a Bradford version (naturally) and if all else fails maybe Mark and I could initiate it ourselves. Hmm…

Coincidentally I was looking at an old map of Haltwhistle this week and the story ideas within the names on that sheet alone were fantastic: Hot Moss, Galloping Rigg, Baty’s Shield, Foul Potts, Clattering Ford, Windy Law, Foul Town, Crooks, New Angerton, Fairy Stairs, Witches House (ruin), not to mention at least 3 castles. I urge you to go look at the fabulous old Ordnance Survey maps there on the National Library of Scotland site, they’re amazing whether you’re interested in history, your neighbourhood, or quirky old places to build a story round.

Lastly, lest I forget, the International Women’s Day poetry pamphlets from Bradford Libraries are out now, with my poem in. Dead excited to get this through the post:

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Accents and globalisation part 1

OneMonkey and I have been listening to Journeys in English this weekend courtesy of Leeds library’s audiobooks download service. It’s Bill Bryson’s BBC series from 20 years ago about the history, use and future of the English language. The time lapse since the series was made was interesting in itself, with the (then) new word cyberspace having already fallen out of favour for instance. The programme also talked about the fears of dialect loss, the ultra-standardisation of English (possibly along American lines, but that’s another story) from people moving around and being influenced by the TV etc. It generated a lot of discussion between us, we paused the thing so often it took about half an hour to listen to the final five minutes, but I’ll try and stick to a couple of topics over the next couple of posts.

One of those was how much our speech had changed in twenty years. We now live a few miles from where most of my family’s from, coincidentally directly across the valley from the hamlet one of my great-great-grandfathers left 160 years ago to find work in the slightly more built-up and industrial bit I’ve left behind. Nevertheless, twenty years of OneMonkey and I influencing each other’s accents, not to mention stints at 3 universities surrounded by staff and students from different backgrounds, and we both sound different from our teenage selves, particularly OneMonkey whose Geordie accent has all but gone as he’s slowed down and enunciated to allow non-native speakers a chance to understand him. He never uses the word ‘geet’ (here rendered for the well-spoken Yorkshireman as usual) whereas in 1997 it was in practically every sentence – for those unfamiliar with the word, imagine using it for emphasis as you would ‘dead’ i.e. dead good, dead late, dead hungry. My grilled bread sounds much more like ‘toe-st’ than ‘turst’, which not everyone will see as a bad thing.

Have a think about how your speech has changed in the last twenty years. You probably say tweeting and texting a lot more than you did then. Have you lost any dialect phrases? Learnt any new ones? Has your accent got stronger from moving back home, or weaker from moving away, or been influenced by your favourite TV programme? (Notice I didn’t say ‘TV show’ there but I did use TV not telly. I find myself saying movies instead of pictures sometimes…) Is the change gratifying, worrying, or just interesting? Feel free to answer some or all of these questions in the comments below. Or tweet me @JYSaville

 

Writing on Air

Last night we were on the radio again. Twice. The chaps at Chapel FM in Seacroft not only let Ilkley Writers (me, Andrea and Roz again, same as last year) do a programme called The Borrowers, but we all took part in the open mic later in the evening as well (I’m about 8min40 in, if you’re in a hurry).

Luckily someone took a photo so you can appreciate the inspiring (and subtly-lit) surroundings of the radio theatre, though you can’t see the fabulous stained glass from there.

Taking the ‘Writing on Air’ festival title literally, we did a writing challenge live on air in our programme, which was great fun and was supposed to illustrate that using random words (picked from a book if you like, you don’t have to have a well-known local poet read them out to you) can be an enjoyable and accessible way to get you a starting point for a story or poem. Other than that we talked a lot about libraries, which regulars here will know that I’m rather keen on.

The 4-day festival was packed with content which you can listen back to at the radio station website, and we had a great time and met some lovely people like Malika Booker and SJ Bradley. Thanks to Peter Spafford for shepherding us all and remaining affable throughout.

Week 19: Women and words

This was the week of International Women’s Day so unsurprisingly most of my writing activity has been focused around that. Bradford Libraries had asked for poems on the theme of being bold, and though I don’t often write poetry these days I was inspired (not least by the idea of having a poem on display in Bradford library) and you can read the resulting poem on Bradford Libraries Facebook page.

I had an invite to Edinburgh for International Women’s Day, to celebrate a year of the Dangerous Women Project, which if you recall I had an essay in last August. Sadly I couldn’t go, but that’s because I was in a pub in York with my storytelling-partner Alice Courvoisier and friends, regaling a packed room with tales true and mythical about women through the ages. You can read about what a fabulous time we all had, in a post I put up a few days ago. In the meantime, amuse yourself with this photo from the event:

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As if all that wasn’t enough, it’s the final pre-festival meeting at Chapel FM tonight, for last-minute preparations for the Writing on Air Festival which Andrea, Roz and I will be doing in a couple of weeks. Among the music I’ve chosen this year is The Electric Prunes – I Had Too Much To Dream (Last Night). You can read the schedule for what looks like a well-stocked festival here: Writing on Air schedule pdf

York. Women. Stories. Songs.

What a brilliant night we all had at the Black Swan in York yesterday. In a wood-panelled room with a massive fireplace and uneven floor I joined Alice Courvoisier, Cath Heinemeyer and friends to tell stories new and old, interspersed with a capella songs from the Barbarellas. It was properly packed, barely a spare seat, so I’d like to thank all those brave strangers who laid out their four quid with no real idea what they’d be getting. I hope we gave you an entertaining couple of hours (with a bit of sneaky education in the middle).

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Could I look more pompous?

OneMonkey, official documenter of these things, took a few photos but it was dimly lit and the lampshades made the light a weird orange-pink so they work better in black and white – I could just have said he was being artistic, I guess. One thing the dim lighting taught me is that I need to print my stories in a bigger font. Nobody needed that bit at the beginning where I shuffled around under the light fitting till I could see my page properly, apologising for being middle-aged.

Alice of course circumvents these problems by memorising her myths and folktales (likewise Cath) so she can pace and pause and gesture, and generally create a suitable atmosphere.

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Alice kicking the whole thing off with a myth

We had folk songs, pop songs, tales from Russia, Japan, Egypt and West Yorkshire, and I even slipped in a bit of non-fiction, with a slightly (only slightly) more audience-friendly version of my Dangerous Women essay.

The black and white photos don’t allow you to appreciate the book of stories I resurrected from a couple of years ago (new stories, blu-tacked over the old ones which I’d glued to the boards. Little glimpse behind the curtain for you there), so I’ll leave you with a picture of that and the marvellous flyers Alice had printed, artwork courtesy of Jess Wallace.

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Living in a Cultural Void, or Whither Public Transport?

Looking at job listings on the Arts Council website the other day, I was struck by how many were in London. To save time wading through all those distant vacancies I thought about filtering so that only Yorkshire listings were shown, then I saw jobs in Hull and Rotherham (East and South Yorkshire respectively, whereas I’m in West) and I wondered if I needed to look at North West as well, since Manchester is probably easier for me (no car) to get to than either of those. Lucky Londoners, I thought, all those theatres, museums, galleries and the like right on their doorstep. Then I remembered a friend who used to live in Enfield (about 10 miles north of where I as an outsider think of as London, all those famous buildings by the Thames) saying he rarely went in to the city itself as it was quite a trek, and decided maybe I was doing many Londoners a disservice. They might be in no better position than I am, ten minutes’ walk from a train station, not so far from Bradford and Leeds. Armed with the measuring function on Google maps, and the journey planners for National Rail, Transport for London, and West Yorkshire Metro I had a bit of a look.

Starting with London, Enfield is about 8.5-12 miles as the crow flies from places I recognise on a map as having venues you’d want to visit for concerts, theatre, exhibitions etc. Because of London’s joined-up public transport system (particularly the Underground) that means it takes about 20 minutes to cover the 10 miles to the Tate Modern art gallery, half an hour to the Victoria and Albert Museum or the Barbican, and about 40 minutes to the distant Shepherd’s Bush Empire, a gig venue that’s stuck in my mind from many lists of tour dates I’ve heard read out on the radio over the years.

I’m lucky to live on the outskirts of a small town with its own literature festival, and we get the odd national tour in our concert hall too (Billy Bragg was here last year). Beyond that though, it’s about 6 miles (as the crow flies from my local station, half an hour on the train) to the Hockney gallery at Saltaire, which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and worth a visit anyway. Then you’re into the same sort of distances as from Enfield to central London: 9 miles to Bradford (theatres, galleries, the National Media Museum, the Bradford literature festival) or to Haworth for the Bronte pilgrimage, 11.5 miles to Harrogate for the Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival. Here’s where we differ though, it takes half an hour by train into the centre of Bradford, then easily another quarter of an hour to walk to the Alhambra or Media Museum, or to the university venues for the literature festival. Haworth has a railway station, but only for steam trains so from here you’d have to get a bus, and the journey planner reckons on just over an hour. Harrogate also has a station, but from here you have to go into Leeds and back out again so it’s marginally quicker by bus, again about an hour.

It’s not all bad news though because Leeds, 13.5 miles as the crow flies, is only half an hour away by train. Of course you’ve then got a 15-20 minute walk to the Royal Armouries, the Tetley, the West Yorkshire Playhouse or the Grand Theatre, and many Leeds-based events actually happen in the student-dominated area of Headingley (just less than 12 miles from here, but as you have to go into Leeds and back out again by train, it’s quicker by bus. 50 minutes this time) but it still counts as our nearest big cultural centre. It’s where we go to gigs, anyway.

For that job in Rotherham (just under 40 miles away) it would take me about 2 hours on the train. On the plus side Hull, UK City of Culture 2017, is also 2 hours away by train even though it’s just over 60 miles from here. Wakefield, for the Hepworth gallery, is just over 20 miles away and an hour by train. York (National Railway Museum, theatres and concerts, as well as general historical loveliness) is nearly 30 miles away but only an hour and a quarter by train, not much different from Manchester with its various galleries and museums at a distance of 35 miles (hour and a half by train). Newcastle, more than 70 miles away, begins to seem reasonable at two and a quarter hours by train plus a bit of a walk to the Theatre Royal, the Sage, the Baltic, the Laing Art Gallery and various museums. I’m still not tempted by the bargain time of three and a quarter hours for the 180 miles from here to the British Library though, and I wouldn’t live in London for the world.

It’s worth noting that I haven’t looked at costs for any of these journeys, though national rail travel is likely to be more expensive than local bus or (at a guess) London Underground. Buses will take longer than the timetable says, some days are worse than others, and if you start feeling sick after more than about half an hour on a bus (like OneMonkey or I) you’re even more limited. I took midweek, 9.30am onwards, as my sample, and I haven’t considered that for some of the places you might want to visit there are only 2 or 3 trains a day, or no public transport in the evening (which might be a pain if you’re trying to get to the theatre).

Week 11: The weather outside is frightful

We have had snow this week but not much of it and it didn’t last long (and I was indoors, all cosy with a book). We’ve also had wisps of low cloud like sagging cobwebs over the valley, and proper murk where the close yellowish grey mist looks like nicotine-stained net curtains. I love the low light, the way the damp foliage changes colour compared to dry days, and the shifting glimpses of the moor way over there across the unseen river.

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View across the valley

I’m fine-tuning the first three chapters of the semi-rural fantasy at the moment, before sending them off with my application to the Northern Writers’ Awards. I’ll never be properly satisfied with my entry but I’m aiming to reach ‘good enough to send’ by sometime next week. It’s making me re-focus on the essence of the book, and I’ve been enjoying quite a bit of background reading related to it.

I’m also nearing the finish line on my entry to Hometown Tales, which is supposed to unearth writers from under-represented regions. Is West Yorkshire under-represented? We have David Peace and Alan Bennett (have they both moved elsewhere?), and Joanne Harris of course. Possibly I’m over-thinking this, and what the publishers really mean is ‘writers from outside London’.

Staggering revelation of the week (apart from ‘all my friends are turning 40 this year’, although strictly it’s only most of them) is that there are women out there who arrive at well-established adulthood without ever having worn men’s clothes. I feel this will end up in a story at some point. Imagine only ever wearing shirts that have darts in, pulling them in to some shape that doesn’t represent most people’s reality! Never reaching into your inside pocket for a wallet! Never having anywhere to put your keys unless you carry a bag! Possibly I am generalising, and there are hitherto unknown women’s clothes that don’t follow this trend (and, it must be said, I wear women’s clothes a fair bit even though they have little or nothing in the way of pockets). Still, food for thought.

As ever, a varied week. Feel free to comment about your own, particularly in the vein of staggering revelations…