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Archive for May, 2009

Hornsey Library event

May 28th, 2009

hornseylibraryThanks to the kind prompting from May, I am finally getting around to writing about my talk and book signing at Hornsey Library last week. Even though it was my local library, I was a bit worried about how many people would turn up to an event for a little-known first-time author, so I was delighted to see all the seats filled. There was even somebody there from Prospero’s Books, the local independent bookshop that’s been really supportive of me and my book from the beginning. If you’re in north London any time, stop in there – it’s a good old-fashioned place, small but with a surprisingly good selection, and staff who actually appear to like and be knowledgeable about books.

Anyway, I spoke for 10 or 15 minutes, then read an extract from the book, and then there was a horrible few moments when I stopped for questions and nobody seemed to want to ask anything at all! But then somebody asked about how I researched the book, and after that the questions flowed for what seemed like a long time – maybe half an hour? Good, interesting questions, especially considering that many of them hadn’t read the book and were just going on my talk and the short extract. It all went well, and all the copies my publisher brought with him were snapped up. There was even this really nice guy who bought five copies to give to friends – there weren’t enough on the night, so I’m going to stop by at Legend Press today and sign them so that they can send them to him.

If you’re one of the people who came, thanks very much, and I’d love to hear your perspective on it. It seemed to go really well from my point of view, but you never know! Thanks to Wendy at the library and Lauren, Tom and Lucy at Legend Press for making the arrangements.

For those of you from further afield, dont’ worry – normal service will be resumed soon, i.e. book reviews! I have finished Kazuo Ishiguro’s Nocturnes and Zoe Jenny’s The Pollen Room, and plan to post reviews in the next few days.

Andrew Blackman On the Holloway Road , ,

Monday Morning Inspiration #6

May 25th, 2009

mmi-icon-new2“One doesn’t discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time”

- André Gide

Andrew Blackman Inspiration

Luke Bitmead Award 2009

May 20th, 2009

I was happy to see a call for entries for the Luke Bitmead Writers’ Bursary 2009. Luke wrote an excellent book, White Summer, in 2006, but died only a few months after it was published. His second book, Heading South, co-written with Catherine Richards, was published posthumously. His family then set up a foundation to help other young writers, and award a prize every year to an aspiring novelist.

This is the prize that I won last year, leading to the publication of On the Holloway Road. You enter the first three chapters of your novel, and it’s judged by a panel including novelists Deborah Wright and Zoe Jenny, as well as Luke’s family and the Legend Press team. The winner gets £2,500 and a publishing contract with Legend Press.

I’d strongly recommend this to any unpublished writers who are looking for a break. It’s free to enter and winning is a fantastic way to get published. It has quite literally changed my life.

I love contests in general, especially for new writers. The big advantage is that you’re on a level playing field. Usually the manuscripts have to be anonymous, so it doesn’t matter whether you have any track record, any contacts in the publishing world, etc. It’s all about the writing, and that’s what you want as an unpublished writer. Also, the contest organisers have actively asked for submissions and are looking for a winner, so you know your work will be read. It’s very different from submitting your manuscript to an editor or agent who’s swamped with submissions and is looking for any excuse to reject you. If you win, or are even shortlisted, it’s something to put on your writing CV for the rest of your life. Contests are how I got my first essay, my first short story and now my first novel published. Enter more contests!!

Even if you don’t plan to enter, the website for the foundation is worth a look. It was originally Luke’s personal website/blog, so you can see his posts and photos from 2006, and his family have now added information about the memorial fund. As well as helping new writers, the fund aims to spread awareness of mental health issues and encourage greater research and understanding, so it’s a good cause. And do check out both of Luke’s books – they are both well-written, very good reads.

Andrew Blackman Literary news , ,

Monday Morning Inspiration #5

May 18th, 2009

mmi-icon-new2Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared. - Buddha

Andrew Blackman Inspiration

“If on a winter’s night a traveler” by Italo Calvino

May 13th, 2009

wintersnightReviewing this book in the New Yorker, John Updike said that it “manages to charm and entertain the reader in the teeth of a scheme designed to frustrate all reasonable readerly intentions.” I don’t think I can put it any better, so you may want to stop reading now. But I’ll put down the rest of my thoughts anyway.

The most striking thing about this book is that addresses you, the reader, directly: the opening line is, “You are about to begin reading Italo Calvino’s new novel, If on a winter’s night a traveler.” You then become a protagonist in the story, along with another reader, Ludmilla, to whom you feel an immediate attraction. The other striking thing about the book is that after the first chapter, the story changes. Your copy is defective – it just contains the first chapter repeated over and over again. Angrily, you take it back to the bookshop, where you receive a replacement copy, which turns out to be a completely different book. This one, too, contains only one chapter, and in trying to track down the rest of it you end up reading a different one, and a different one, and a different one. All fragments, all broken off at the moment of greatest suspense.

This is the frustration that Updike was talking about.

Nevertheless, you keep going, and you gradually become closer to the Other Reader, and a whole bizarre plot develops around you and your attempts to read the book. It sounds as if it should be a nightmare, but it really works. For one thing, the aborted novels are mostly very good. I did find myself becoming absorbed in them, even though I knew they would soon be interrupted. Calvino is a great storyteller, and this is what made me tolerate his endless digressions and interruptions.

The other thing that made me tolerate them was that the digressions themselves were often fascinating discussions of the nature of reading or of writing. One character for example, talks of the reader for whom “reading means stripping herself of every purpose, every foregone conclusion, to be ready to catch a voice that makes itself heard when you least expect it, a voice that comes from an unknown source, from somewhere beyond the book, beyond the author, beyond the conventions of writing: from the unsaid, from what the world has not yet said of itself and does not yet have the words to say.” Meanwhile another reader “wanted, on the contrary, to show her that behind the written page is the void: the world exists only as artifice, pretense, misunderstanding, falsehood.”

There’s a lot of falsehood even in the stories that the reader reads. There’s the one about the rich man who, to avoid being kidnapped, creates endless doubles of himself, each going about his routine, and then he creates duplicate mistresses, duplicate cars, etc etc so that the kidnappers will never know which is the real one. He then even creates a fake gang and carries out fake kidnappings, before eventually his counter-plot to a kidnapping plot is foiled by a counter-counter-plot and he ends up imprisoned in a room of mirrors. At all points there are mysterious, shadowy groups, double-agents and triple-agents, infiltrators and infiltrators of the infiltrators, deceptions, fictions and confusion.

Yet amid all this falsehood you do “catch a voice” every now and then communicating something else, something deeper, and this is perhaps what Calvino is saying good fiction does. He is both a cynic and a prophet, showing us all the artifice of fiction, the shabby “tricks of the trade”, and at the same time going beyond mere storytelling and saying some important things about books and reading. It’s an impressive achievement to start off with such a difficult premise and to pull it off.

Reading 'If on a winter's night a traveler' by Italo Calvino in Central Park, April 2009

Reading 'If on a winter's night a traveler' by Italo Calvino in Central Park, April 2009

Andrew Blackman Italo Calvino , , , , , ,

Monday Morning Inspiration #4

May 11th, 2009

mmi-icon-new1If you realise that all things change, there is nothing you will try to hold on to.
If you aren’t afraid of dying, there is nothing you can’t achieve.

Trying to control the future is like trying to take the master carpenter’s place.
When you handle the master carpenter’s tools, chances are that you’ll cut your hand.

– Tao Te Ching by Lao Tsu

Please share your own inspirational quotes with me. See week 1 of this feature for details.

Andrew Blackman Inspiration

“Life of Pi” by Yann Martel

May 9th, 2009

piI’ve heard good things about this book for ages, ever since it won the Booker Prize back in 2002, but for some reason I always resisted reading it. Perhaps it’s because I tend to prefer books that stay quite close to reality, and the premise of this one – a 16-year-old boy called Pi travels the Pacific in a lifeboat with a 450-pound Bengal tiger – sounded like the exact opposite. It’s a tall tale, almost deliberately unrealistic. Martel seems to take the absurdity of the premise as a challenge – to make the reader believe it anyway.

And the amazing thing is that he mostly succeeds. There’s quite a long lead-in before we get to the boat part, and I think that helps. It doesn’t really help us get to know Pi – he’s a child, and apart from showing curiosity about various world religions he doesn’t actually do much. As with many children, things just happen to him, and these things are dependent more on the adults around him than on his own will.

What the introductory part does instead is to lay some of the groundwork for what happens later. Pi’s father is a zookeeper in southern India, and we learn much about animals’ territorial natures, their habits, their fears, their social hierarchies, and about lion-taming. These are the things Pi will later put into practice when his family is moving to Canada and the boat sinks, leaving him adrift with an assortment of animals that were being transported from their zoo to North American ones. When he does, we recognise them and the straight, scientific way in which they were described appears to lend them some credibility.

In an “Author’s Note” at the beginning, Martel describes a trip to India in which he encounters an old man who promises “I have a story that will make you believe in God” and then proceeds to tell him the story which Martel turns into this book. Religion is clearly a theme throughout the book – or perhaps more accurately, faith, since organised religions are portrayed as largely missing the point. Pi practises Christianity, Islam and Hinduism simultaneously, and when he is confronted by the priest, imam and pandit, they argue amongst themselves while the boy Pi quotes Gandhi as saying “All religions are true”, adding “I just want to love God”.

The story doesn’t really make you believe in God, though. An atheist or agnostic could quite easily attribute Pi’s survival to human qualities of intelligence and ingenuity, without any divine intervention. The key comes towards the end, when Pi is interviewed by people who refuse to believe his story about being trapped in a boat for months with a tiger. In response to their scepticism, he tells an alternative, much bleaker and more believable version in which all the animals and bizarre events are absent and he is on a boat with people who argue, kill each other and eat each other’s flesh.

There are certain parallels in the events in the two stories, so that you can think that perhaps Pi has created the animal version to shield him from the horror of the real one. But then Pi poses the question: “Which is the better story, the story with animals or the story without animals?” His listeners are forced to admit that the story with the animals is better, to which he replies “Thank you. And so it goes with God.”

The phrase “better story” echoes a passage much earlier in the book where Pi is talking about a dying agnostic, staying “beholden to dry, yeastless factuality” to the very end, who “might try to explain the warm light bathing him by saying ‘Possibly a failing oxygenation of the brain’ and, to the very end, lack imagination and miss the better story.” The conclusion appears to be that, since we have no real way of knowing how the universe was created, we might as well believe the version with God since, like the version with animals, it is the better story. It’s an interesting idea but not really something to “make you believe in God.”

In fact, the further away I get from this novel, the more I feel myself reverting to my earlier scepticism. The artfulness of the storytelling fades, and only the absurd outlines remain. I am gradually returning to the state I was in from 2002 to 2008, knowing vaguely about a story with a boy and a tiger and thinking it all sounded a bit silly.

But in that brief time when I was actually reading the book, I have to say that I really enjoyed it. I was caught up in the story, I was bowled over by the sheer audacity of the plot, and the ‘God’ aspects seemed much stronger than they appear in retrospect. I even read large chunks of the book a second time, although that was largely because I was trapped in U.S. immigration at JFK airport for two and a half hours with nothing else to read. But I do remember being very enthusiastic about the book, so much so that the two and a half hours passed quickly. I’d definitely recommend it. I might even reread it again myself one day, although hopefully in happier circumstances.

Andrew Blackman Yann Martel , , , , ,

New York, New York

May 5th, 2009

img003I had a wonderful trip to New York. The book-related reasons to go were to sign copies at the Columbia Alumni Book Fair and to give a speech at the Jack Kerouac Literary Group, both of which went very well.

Outside of the scheduled events, it was great to spend some time in New York City, where I lived for six years before moving back to the UK in 2006. I managed to catch up with friends from my various incarnations:  a corporate banker at Citigroup, a student at Columbia and then a journalist at the Wall Street Journal. And then I spent time just wandering down memory lane. Of course things have changed, but most of the old favourites are still there. As I list them, it’s interesting how many of them are food-related! Anyway, in my old neighbourhood on the Upper East Side: hot pastrami on a poppyseed bagel from Tal Bagel (I used to live in a little apartment upstairs), breakfast at the old-fashioned Mansion Diner, and little choux pastries filled with custard from the Choux Factory. Further downtown, brunch at Danal’s was a must. Then there was Eastern Parkway in Brooklyn, Van Cortlandt Park in the Bronx, Brooklyn Heights Promenade, the various riverside walks in Manhattan, and of course a lazy, sunny afternoon lying on the Great Lawn in Central Park reading a book and trying not to get hit by frisbees. And visiting friends in New Jersey gave me an excuse to rent a Corvette for a day and hit the gargantuan American highways.

I realise that holiday snapshots are usually more interesting for the person who went on the holiday than for everyone else, but I’m posting a few of them anyway :-)

Van Cortlandt House in the Bronx. Shortly after coming across this, I found myself watching a game of cricket in the adjacent park. Not a side of the Bronx that you see very often.

Van Cortlandt House in the Bronx. Just around the corner there was a cricket match going on - not quite what I expected to find in the Bronx, but I spent a very relaxing afternoon watching it.

columbia

Columbia University. The bouncy castle wasn't there in my day - standards must be dropping...

promenade

Lower Manhattan as seen from the Brooklyn Heights Promenade. 111 Wall Street, where I used to work, is the squat dark building just left of centre. It looks small here, but at 24 storeys it would be one of the tallest buildings in London.

The Great Lawn in Central Park

The Great Lawn in Central Park. It didn't stay this empty for long.

corvette

Sometimes you just have to get out of the city...

Andrew Blackman Literary events , , , , , , ,

Monday Morning Inspiration #3

May 4th, 2009

mmi-icon-new

If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion.

– Dalai Lama

Please share your own inspirational quotes with me. See week 1 of this feature for details.

Andrew Blackman Inspiration