August Snow – new poem.

AUGUST SNOW.

© David Milligan-Croft

 

I’d been told the climate was similar to ours,

But that was a lie.

 

Here, there was guaranteed sunshine in December

And no snow in July.

 

They had great bubbling mud pools,

Which we didn’t have in Batley.

 

And jets of hot, steaming water

That would shoot up out of the ground.

 

They even had a desert,

(albeit a small one),

Near Lake Taupo.

 

I never knew how much I’d miss snow

Until we moved to New Zealand.

 

The only snow I ever saw

Was on Mount Wanganui.

 

But that was too high

For a boy of eight.

 

One winter though – about August -

I found a small pile of snow on our back porch.

 

I was so delirious with excitement

That I ran inside to tell mam.

 

She didn’t have the heart to tell me

It was scraped from the freezer.

Perfection

To achieve perfection takes trial and error.

If others are involved in your task, they may see your experimentation as indecision.

Ignore that gnawing urge to placate them for an easier life, and press on with your goal.

Only then, will you hope to attain something that you can be 85 – 90% satisfied with.

Sylvia Plath – In Memoriam

Sylvia Plath
October 27th 1932 – 11th February 1963

I was a few days late with my tribute to the great artist, Amedeo Modigliani. So, I decided to be a bit premature with this one to Sylvia Plath.

Poet, novelist and short story writer, Sylvia Plath committed suicide 50 years ago tomorrow.

She was married to fellow poet, Ted Hughes. And the pair had two children together, Frieda and Nicholas.

On hearing of Hughes having an affair they separated. Plath taking two year old Frieda and nine month old Nicholas with her. Five months later, with the kids tucked up in bed, she sealed the kitchen doors and windows with wet towels and put her head in the oven. She was 30 years old.

The world lost a literary colossus and prodigious talent.

Understandably, Ted Hughes came in for a lot of stick for his part in her death. Exacerbated by the fact that his second wife, Assia Wevill, (the woman he had the affair with), also committed suicide in 1969. And, even more tragically, she also took the life of their daughter, Alexandra.

It’s not my place to vilify Hughes, as I don’t know what went on in their relationship. What I do know, is that he was an outstanding poet too.

Plath’s daughter, Frieda went on to become a successful poet, children’s author and artist. (I think she lives in Australia now.)

Nicholas became a marine biologist. But, like his mum, suffered from depression. And sadly, he also took his own life in 2009 by hanging himself.

The world would have been a better, richer place if she had remained in it.

Here is one of my favourite poems; I love the way the lines break, sending one stanza cascading into the next:

EDGE

by Sylvia Plath

The woman is perfected
Her dead

Body wears the smile of accomplishment,
The illusion of a Greek necessity

Flows in the scrolls of her toga,
Her bare

Feet seem to be saying:
We have come so far, it is over.

Each dead child coiled, a white serpent,
One at each little

Pitcher of milk, now empty
She has folded

Them back into her body as petals
Of a rose close when the garden

Stiffens and odors bleed
From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower.

The moon has nothing to be sad about,
Staring from her hood of bone.

She is used to this sort of thing.
Her blacks crackle and drag.

What a smile – RIP Sylvia Plath

Addendum

Here’s a lovely little article from the Academy of American poets about

the things that Sylvia Plath loved.

Addendum II

The days before death. Read this honest, harrowing and heart-felt account, by Jillian Becker, about Sylvia Plath’s final days. (I know, as a parent, that I would’ve felt a little put-out at being a nursemaid.) Thank you to Jo Harley Hynes for sharing it with me.

Suspenders – by Raymond Carver

Suspenders

by Raymond Carver

Mom said I didn’t have a belt that fit and
I was going to have to wear suspenders to school
next day. Nobody wore suspenders to second grade,
or any other grade for that matter. She said,
You’ll wear them or else I’ll use them on you. I don’t want any more trouble. My dad said something then. He
was in the bed that took up most of the room in the cabin
where we lived. He asked if we could be quiet and settle this
in the morning. Didn’t he have to go in early to work in
the morning? He asked if I’d bring him
a glass of water. It’s all that whiskey he drank, Mom said. He’s
dehydrated.

I went to the sink and, I don’t know why, brought him
a glass of soapy dishwater. He drank it and said, That sure
tasted funny, son. Where’d this water come from?
Out of the sink, I said.
I thought you loved your dad, Mom said.
I do, I do, I said, and went over to the sink and dipped a glass
into the soapy water and drank off two glasses just
to show them. I love Dad, I said.
Still, I thought I was going to be sick then and there. Mom said,
I’d be ashamed of myself if I was you. I can’t believe you’d
do your dad that way. And, by God, you’re going to wear those
suspenders tomorrow, or else. I’ll snatch you bald-headed if you
give me any trouble in the morning. I don’t want to wear
suspenders,
I said. You’re going to wear suspenders, she said. And with that
she took the suspenders and began to whip me around the bare legs
while I danced in the room and cried. My dad
yelled at us to stop, for God’s sake, stop. His head was killing him,
and he was sick at his stomach from soapy dishwater
besides. That’s thanks to this one, Mom said. It was then somebody
began to pound on the wall of the cabin next to ours. At first it
sounded like it was a fist–boom-boom-boom–and then
whoever it was switched to a mop or a broom
handle.  For Christ’s sake, go to bed over there! somebody yelled.
Knock it off! And we did. We turned out the lights and
got into our beds and became quiet. The quiet that comes to a house
where nobody can sleep.

A Christmas Haiku

A brand-spanking new notebook from my beautiful girls for Christmas. With a little drawing and a message by each of them on the first two pages. Lucky Daddy.

 

Pine needles falling,

Children’s fingers rummaging,

Finding only spells.

 

‘Spell’ is also a Yorkshire colloquialism for a splinter.

The Boating Party – with Denis Goodbody

Luncheon of the Boating Party, 1881. By Pierre-Auguste Renoir.

The Boating Party is a series of interviews with writers, artists, photographers, filmmakers, musicians, sculptors, designers and the like.

In times of economic hardship the Arts are usually the first things to be axed. But, in my view, the Arts are the most important aspect of our civilisation. Without the arts, we wouldn’t have language or the written word. Without the arts, we have no culture. Without culture, we have no society. Without society, we have no civilisation. And without civilisation, we have anarchy. Which, in itself, is paradoxical, because so many people view artists as rebels to society.

To me, artists aren’t rebels, they are pioneers.

And perhaps, most importantly; without the Arts, where’s the creativity that will solve the world’s problems? Including economic and scientific ones?

This week, I’m delighted to welcome radio broadcaster, children’s author, lyricist and all-round communications expert, Denis Goodbody.

What’s your greatest personal or career achievement?

My greatest achievements have all been to do with communicating ideas. We take communication for granted in our society – we assume that all the verbal conversations, physical gestures and expressions we send out every day are understood. When they are not understood, as often as not, we blame the other party.

I help people communicate their messages for a living and I think that has helped me realize the fragility of a ‘message’. When we communicate we are transmitting ideas, the most precious of all commodities on earth. Once upon a time the ‘wheel’ was an idea. “Will you marry me” is an idea. In my day-to-day life I see beautiful, wonderful, precious ideas go up in flames or sink without trace because the people gifted with those ideas failed to communicate it successfully.

On a personal level my proudest achievement is, somehow, communicating to my wife that I’d be a suitable husband. On a professional level my proudest achievement is to have sustained myself and my family doing something I love – having ideas and communicating them.

What’s been your greatest sacrifice?

God I’m fortunate. I could be pompous and say it’s an aspect of my philosophy on life, to say that I don’t look back or I avoid regret but that would be tosh. I’m one very lucky guy. Like everyone, I have reached the sign post and had to choose between busy thoroughfares and roads less traveled and I have usually taken the latter. I have never known what lay through the traffic jams on the busy thoroughfares because I’ve been too busy with the twists and turns on the less traveled ones. Did I sacrifice going out to expensive restaurants and drinking too much in favor of having kids? No sacrifice. Did I sacrifice my dream of the Parisian garret and the great novel? No sacrifice, my attention deficit and wayward ways would have left me starving in the garret with no important unpublished masterpiece left beside by gaunt corpse. The only thing I can think of that I could classify as a sacrifice was selling my extraordinarily beautiful first house but that wasn’t really a sacrifice. It was a groovy bachelor pad and it worked – the honey-trap helped win me a honey. Anything else I miss or regret would be loss, rather than sacrifice, and among those I would count the loss of my father’s life and my mother’s memory but what they have given me far outweighs their loss.

To whom do you owe a debt of gratitude?

Well I’ve just mentioned my parents so let’s take that as read. I have also mentioned my good fortune. It was my parents who chose the strange and archaic private education I received and it was my good fortune to have had the most incredible teachers. Nowadays half of them probably wouldn’t be allowed to teach because of insufficient qualifications, inability to speak Irish or whatever. I find it hard to think of one it wasn’t a privilege to learn from and that’s not just a rose tinted rear-view mirror. Oh, they were strict and sometimes sarcastic. One could hit your ear lob with a piece of chalk from thirty feet but there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t use the skills, techniques and disciplines he taught me. One was a baronet and a racing driver. Another had his face badly burned rescuing a comrade from a tank at El Alamein. Yet another had mysteriously distorted finger nails which, we were led to believe, were the result of being tortured. I owe a debt of gratitude to all of those teachers, among whom I include my parents. As I observe the development of education I worry increasingly that it is becoming merely an ‘information-downloading exercise’ instead of the eye-opening, horizon lifting experience it should and can be.

Who and what inspire you?

Music, visual art, literature and children inspire me because they provide me with ideas and they stimulate the creation of more. Children inspire me because they embody possibility and hope. Seeing children observe things for the first time, trying to see those things as they see them, is a way for the rest of us to rediscover the world for ourselves. The notion that children should be seen and not heard is criminal. Music can speak truth without words, as can visual art. They speak truths in ways that leave everyone to witness their own version of that truth, free of argument or dissent. While I can’t say that of literature, as words are more self-evident, I will say this: fiction often contains more truth than fact. History has to be written from one standpoint from which it tries to recreate events. Fiction, on the other hand, makes no bones about its standpoint and is free to make its point subjectively and clearly without trying to be all things to all people.

What was the last thing that inspired you?

My wife’s singing inspires me, and has done for a good while now, so the last thing? I think The Illustrated Beatles exhibition in Dublin. 42 illustrators digging under the surface of 42 Beatles’ songs and presenting their findings in 42 incredible pictures. As a body of work it combines all of the things that inspire me: Music, visual art and literate lyrics, plus the fact that I heard the songs when I was a child and they helped form my worldview.

What makes you unhappy?

Hatred, war and cruelty and, for the most part, all of those things are borne out of bad communication. If the money that was spent by governments on the development of weapons was spent on finding away to avoid wars, we would have had a solution long ago. The problem is that there is profit in dissent which is why the really evil people in the world are those who foment discord, dividing and conquering for financial gain.

What makes you happy?

As well as music, art, literature and children? Family. When, as adolescents, we distance ourselves from our parents – an evolutionary necessity – we don’t realize how important it is to comeback. I married and bred late compared to many and no day passes without me going dewy eyed at the fact someone as incredible as my wife agreed to marry me, have a child with me and allow me to call the kids she already had ‘family’.

What’s your favourite smell?

Well it’s not napalm in the morning. In fact, the opposite. I love the smell of fresh air in the countryside. It can be a fragrant summer woodland or a winter storm on a beach. If it’s mingled with my wife’s perfume as we stroll together, that pretty much completes the olfactory picture.

What are you reading?

I’m just finishing a book about The Beatles’ visit to Dublin in 1963, a nice context to The Illustrated Beatles Exhibition. My literary weakness? Thomas Hardy. His books conjour the smells I’ve just describe and I think he could have been the world’s greatest cinematographer.

Who, or what, are you listening to?

As well as Carmen Browne? I’m listening to a lot more jazz than I used to but my listening-week is usually ruled by whatever topic I choose for my weekly radio show ‘Roots Musings’. You caught me on a bad week, it was a novelty show about Halloween.

What’s your favourite sound?

Silence. Silence is a canvas and when you have it, you can choose how to fill it. I’m funny that way.

What’s your favourite film?

God that’s hard. Chinatown, probably.

If you could go back in time, where would you go?

The beginning.

What frightens you?

Like any parent the thing that frightens me most is the prospect of any harm coming to one of the children and, by extension, to any children or animals. Intentional harm or cruelty to animals and children is the basest and most perverse human behavior.

What’s your favourite sense of touch?

I don’t want to be to graphic about it but having the skin of someone you love touch yours can’t be beaten in my book. And I don’t mean exclusively carnal contact either. I go to the nursing home to see my mother each week and I hold her hand. With her diminished memory there’s very little room for meaningful conversation but that touch says everything we need to say.

What do you do to relax?

Music, literature, visual art and breathing in that fresh country air, with birdsong spattering the silent canvas.

What do you do when you’re angry?

A lot of internalizing goes on which is unhealthy but it does mean I process stuff rather than let go on reflex. I do shout a bit which isn’t pretty as I have a very loud voice to begin with.

What can’t you live without?

We’ve already got music, literature, art, family and fresh air. To that you could add chilli and red wine, preferably consumed Langkawi restaurant on Baggot Street in Dublin. How are you fixed? [You're on. Next time I'm over!]

What’s your motto?

“Live and let love”.

What’s your Utopia?

I always have to remind people that in Thomas Moore’s original Utopia, they had slaves. This tarnishes the whole concept for me though it does teach me one important lesson. Living your life fairly and without exploiting others, means an element of hard work. To answer the question free of pontification, I would say my Utopia is somewhere in the west of Ireland with all of the things mentioned under the question “What can’t you live without?”

If you only had one year to live what would you do?

I would conquer my attention deficit and finish the novel I didn’t finish in question Two.

What sends your taste buds into overdrive?

Chilli – especially prawns. And I meant that about Langkawi! Mine’s a ‘Sambal Udang’.

Up who’s arse would you like to stick a rocket, and why?

If I were the rocket-suppository-inserting type – and I don’t believe I am – it would have to be Mitt Romney or some other American Tea Party Type. They have no concept or care of the world around them. They are phenomenally selfish. They are racist and intolerant. They embody just about everything the American Constitution – as I understand it – set out to avoid. I know it’s not my country but it is my world they are setting out to destroy. They are no better than the fundamentalists and terrorists they claim to oppose.

Who would you like to be stuck in an elevator with?

Would it be too obvious to say my wife? I have no desire to meet any of my heroes as I wouldn’t want that status diminished by reality. I guess I’d settle for Barrack Obama or Ang San Suu Kyi, both of whom I believe are incredible people.

What are you working on at the moment?

I should be working on a book I’m writing and a couple of advertising projects already overdue.

What is your ambition?

Right now, my ambition is to complete the answers to question 25. Beyond that, my ambition is threefold: finish the novel I started (not the one mentioned above), promote and expand my radio shows listenership, to write more songs with Carmen Browne. Before all of that, however, I’d have to say my ambition is to be the best Dad in the known universe beside which the other ambitions are a piece of cake.

Which six people would you invite to your boating party?

Thomas Hardy, Guy Clarke, Joni Mitchell, Carmen Browne, Barack and Michelle Obama.

What would be on the menu?

Sambal Udang, Sushi and lamb tagine and metzes. We’ll have a couple of bottles of the Chateau Kefraya – failing that, anything else from the Beka Valley.

What question would you liked me to have asked?

Other than what date we’re having that meal in Langkawi? I think I’d like to have been asked to define my concept of God. I am inundated with scientists, atheists, agnostics, fundamentalists and dogmatists telling me that God either does or doesn’t exist. None of them, as far as I can see, have taken the time to describe the God believe does or doesn’t exist. There’s almost 7 billion different concepts of God on this planet alone and I’m not arrogant enough to say that all of them are wrong. In the Judeo-Christian bible there is, I believe, a misprint. Where it says “God Created man in his own image”. The reality is the other way round – we create God in our image.

Thank you, Denis.

My two rascals seal of approval of Denis’ “How the Elk got to the Games”.

Denis Goodbody – Biography:

Denis is a writer and broadcaster living in Dublin. The bulk of his career has been spent conceiving, writing and producing advertising. In recent years he has expanded his love of having ideas producing and presenting 2 weekly radio shows, co-writing jazz songs and writing books.

Today’s Haiku

Early one morning, it struck me, as I was sitting in the dark with a cup of fresh coffee, how the world unfolds before us.

I was sitting in the dark not because; a) I can’t afford electricity, b) I’m an insomniac, or c) I’m insane.

There’s something very calming about the silence before my girls wake up. I drew the curtains and sat with my coffee peering out of the kitchen window. As dawn broke, the leafless branches of trees began to emerge from the blue darkness.

A labyrinth of

Autumn branches emerge from

Darkness as dawn breaks.

I have a dream too, you know.

True, it may not be as ambitious and world-changing as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s. But it’s a dream nonetheless.

To be honest, I wasn’t going to post about it until I felt I was in more of a position to realise this dream. But short of winning the Euro Millions Lottery, it aint going to happen without some serious philanthropic backer.

So, what is my dream?

Well, it’s to build a School of Arts for under-privileged kids.

Kids from low socioeconomic backgrounds in large inner-city estates. Kids who might not ordinarily get the opportunity to explore the more creative aspects of their nature.

What good would that do society? We’re in a depression, don’t you know!

Problems in every field of human endeavour are virtually always solved by creative thinking. Even the great Albert Einstein said so himself. Creativity allows us to look at problems from different angles and apply new thinking to solve problems.

Moreover, I don’t see it as a school that produces an unprecedented amount of artists. But an unprecedented amount of creative thinkers – whichever vocation they choose to pursue later in life. Whether it be mathematics, science, business, computers, product design, or economics.

And yes, a few more more artists too. And what’s wrong with that? Art is seen as a dirty word in this country. If I tell people I write poetry, they shift uneasily in their seats. If I said I write poetry in Ireland the response would be a polite smile and a nod toward the back of the queue.

Do you think the first rocket flight to the moon was dreamed up by a scientist?

Sure, scientists and engineers made it a reality. But it is creative people who come up with the ideas and the original solutions of how they can be achieved.

What will the kids do?

The school will develop and encourage creative thinking and self-expression.

It will foster, nurture and encourage exploration of the arts in all its many and varied forms including: painting, drawing, sculpture, ceramics, poetry, literature, screenplays, theatre, drama, dance, music, design, digital arts, film, photography, humanities, languages, and the classics.

Where is this school?

I quite fancy the idea of transforming a derelict Victorian mill. There’s something quite ironic about that. Though it certainly wouldn’t be a prerequisite. (Salts Mill in Bradford is a good example.)

Initially, an inner-city campus close to urban populations that have a high level of low socioeconomic families. Basically, anywhere across the Manchester – Huddersfield – Halifax – Leeds belt. It’s also sufficiently ‘central’ enough to accommodate children from further afield.

It would also be good to have a rural retreat – somewhere like the Lake District, Peak District or the Yorkshire Dales, where children can attend week-long courses/classes which double up as a holiday.

I would also like to open an international sister school in India or Sri Lanka where people from distinctly different cultures can share ideas. These schools could also participate in exchange programmes. (Then subsequently, even further afield: China, South America, South Asia.)

What about science subjects?

This school wouldn’t be a replacement for existing schools and their curricula – more of an extension to them.

Would it exclude people from non low socioeconomic backgrounds?

Not at all. But opportunities for middle-class families in other schools are much more accessible, regardless of ability.

Intake for low income kids would be based as much on desire and enthusiasm to participate rather than ability. There would be a limited number of places for more affluent children. Sort of like Eton – in reverse.

What kind of courses will it run?

Day-long workshops for visiting schools.

After-school classes.

Week-long courses. (Which would include accommodation for traveling students.)

Weekend classes.

Full-time sixth form courses. (A-levels.)

Masters and PhD courses.

What ages are we talking about?

Key Stage 3, up to, and including, sixth form.

Undergraduate, Masters and PhD courses.

What else does the school have?

Apart from studios and classrooms?

There’d be accommodation for students who are visiting from further afield.

Cafe / restaurant.

Gallery to promote and sell students’ work.

Gallery featuring independent contemporary and traditional art.

Masterclasses from guest lecturers.

State of the art library. (Both on and off-line.)

Book shop.

Art-house cinema.

Who will pay for it?

Well, that’s the biggest question of all.

A like-minded philanthropist would be nice.

Arts Council grant.

Lottery funding.

A percentage of Masters and PhD students’ tuition fees could go towards funding.

Sales from restaurant and galleries.

Fundraising / donations.

An Ideal World School of Arts.

Salts Mill, Bradford.

David Hockney at Salts Mill.

Salts Mill interior.

Studio space?

Any constructive criticism and advice about how to get something like this funded and off the ground would be greatly appreciated.

The Boating Party – with Emma Silver

Luncheon of the Boating Party, 1881. By Pierre-Auguste Renoir.

The Boating Party is a series of interviews with writers, artists, photographers, filmmakers, musicians, sculptors, designers and the like.

In times of economic hardship the Arts are usually the first things to be axed. But, in my view, the Arts are the most important aspect of our civilisation. Without the arts, we wouldn’t have language or the written word. Without the arts, we have no culture. Without culture, we have no society. Without society, we have no civilisation. And without civilisation, we have anarchy. Which, in itself, is paradoxical, because so many artists view themselves as rebels to society.

To me, artists aren’t rebels, they are pioneers.

And perhaps, most importantly; without the Arts, where’s the creativity that will solve the world’s problems? Including economic and scientific ones?

I hope a brief glimpse into their lives is as inspiring to you as it is to me.

This next installment is by a writer who serves as an inspiration to anyone trying to get published. Wise words from – Emma Silver

Emma Silver

What’s your greatest personal or career achievement?

Definitely getting Blackbrooke published. I wrote another book before it that was women’s fiction rather than teen horror and it was rejected again and again by agents and publishers. I always knew it wouldn’t get accepted because it wasn’t good enough and I was constantly tinkering with it. In the end, I got fed up and needed a break and that’s when I wrote Blackbrooke. It only took me four weeks (editing was longer I hasten to add!) and I just knew there was something special about it. It was snapped up by Crooked Cat Publishing straight away.

What’s been your greatest sacrifice?

I wanted to be a writer so I gave up a life that had taken me years to build. I had a decent job with a good salary and prospects, my own city centre place, a dream car etc. But I was miserable. I left my job and sold all of my worldly possessions so that I could live the simple life back in my childhood home for a while. I’d love to say it’s been difficult, but I honestly haven’t looked back.

To whom do you owe a debt of gratitude?

My English teacher in high school, Mrs Hynes. She was amazing and really cared about getting the best out of her pupils. However, she didn’t suffer fools gladly and if they couldn’t be bothered, she didn’t waste her energy, instead focusing on the people who wanted to be there. She pushed me to constantly strive for better. Whenever I’m feeling low or having a crisis of confidence, I remember her belief in me and all is well in the world again. I think people underestimate the power of belief for young people, who remember and hold onto it for a long time.

Who and what inspire you?

My parents. They never settled for the ‘norm’ EVER! My mum in particular worked harder than anyone I’ve ever known and did everything she could to give me the best start in life. She’s now living the American dream and having a ball and I couldn’t be happier for her. She certainly inspired me to make a lot of major changes in my life.

I’m also hugely driven by music when I write. I don’t have a preferred genre and always say I’m a fan of songs, rather than bands/artists. However, there are some classic bands that remain on the playlist such as Pink Floyd, The Who and Black Sabbath. It’s all pretty dark and moody for Blackbrooke, although some Stevie Nicks has managed to creep in as well as some 1980s pop classics. Eclectic to say the least!

What was the last thing that inspired you?

It’s probably quite silly, but I’ve not been away for a while, just living in my little bubble in Manchester, and I recently took a work trip to London. The weather was glorious and the capital looked stunning. It was just after the Olympics and the place had a great feel. It inspired me to get my arse into gear and keep working on my second book so I can keep riding the wave of my dream.

What makes you unhappy?

Money. Simple as that. I’m the most relaxed I’ve ever been in my life at the moment and it’s because I finally have some savings from selling my entire life coupled with the fact I’m no longer chasing money. It makes me sad that I was unhappy for such a large part of my twenties – during the years when I should have been partying and living the life. Instead, I was living hand to mouth because I was trying to keep up with a certain lifestyle I couldn’t actually afford. I didn’t see it at the time but now that I do, it feel a little bit sad.

What makes you happy?

There’s a recurring theme featured in Blackbrooke, which is freedom. Whenever I say that word, it sounds more dramatic than I intend. Freedom for me is having some kind of choice, however small. We have more freedom than we think but I still listen to people on a daily basis start sentences with ‘I’d love to do that BUT…’ or ‘I always wanted to be XYZ BUT…’. It frustrates me. I understand there are constraints in life but most of time, we can be whoever we want to be, but choose not to. People should be man enough to say ‘won’t’ instead of ‘can’t’. After all, it’s only themselves they’re lying to. God, an answer about what makes me happy has made me angry!

What are you reading?

How Black is Your Sabbath – a Black Sabbath biography from ex-members of their road crew. I needed a break from fiction and I love a good rock biog. Motley’s Crue’s The Dirt was the last one I read and it blew me away. They were deliciously naughty boys!

Who, or what, are you listening to?

As I said earlier, it’s a mix. I’ve started listening to classical music for the first time in my life with Ludovico Einaudi’s Islands album getting played to death. I’m sure listening to it would be a great conversation starter at a dinner party to make me appear more intelligent than I am. Just one problem – I can’t pronounce his name so I’ll continue to keep quiet about that one…

What’s your favourite film?

Wow. I’m a huge movie buff which I think shows in the Blackbrooke Trilogy because there are a lot of references to movies in there. I have so many movies that I love that’s it almost impossible to choose one but I’m a massive fan of Kubrick’s The Shining. It’s very different from the novel (which I also love) but it’s fantastic. Almost Famous is another favourite. I can’t explain why but I feel as though my life changed after watching it.

 If you could go back in time, where would you go?

Are you kidding? It would be to the 1970s so I could see all of the bands that I absolutely love when they were just starting out and playing little venues. I’d have said the 1960s because of Hendrix but I’d hate to get trampled by Beatlemania…

What frightens you?

Failing. In every respect. My book failing, my health failing, my relationships failing, it’s endless. I’m my own worst critic and every failure rests squarely on my shoulders – no one else’s. It’s a miserable way to live as some form of failure is inevitable and I just don’t ever want to become completely derailed by it one day.

What can’t you live without?

Sadly, it’s my laptop. My whole world is on there. My books, my photographs and access to all of those lovely social media sites I use to promote my book. I even watch shows and films through it rather than switch on the television. I’m glued to the thing. I wouldn’t say I’m technology obsessed but I’m now thinking of branching out to the wonderful world of iPad. It’s like having my laptop in my handbag, all of the time! Seriously, I need to get a life…

What’s your motto?

It’s a stolen quote – Every passing minute is another chance to change everything around. So true.

If you only had one year to live what would you do?

See the world, without a doubt. I’ve never been outside of Europe and there are so many dream locations that I have to visit. New York would be my first stop and then on to see my mum in South Carolina for a bit. I’d love to get a classic car and tour the States. Having a Jack Daniels in the Whiskey-A-Go-Go would be a must!

Up who’s arse would you like to stick a rocket, and why?

I fear the person whose arse I’d shove a rocket up might actually be reading this. I’d love to say they know who they are but they’re fabulously oblivious. With that in mind I’d just like to say to that person – you’re the human equivalent of plankton.

Who would you like to be stuck in an elevator with?

Derren Brown. Aside from the crush I have on him (which is a waste of energy given he’s gay) I’d pick his brain about the whole ‘mind control’ thing and see if there was anything he could teach me. Seeing as he’s homosexual I’d be confident he wouldn’t hypnotise me to have his wicked way but I fear he’d put me in a trance just to get me to shut up…

What are you working on at the moment?

Part II of the Blackbrooke Trilogy which has been a real labour of love. It’s been so much harder to write compared with the first book and the pressure to try and make it better has got to me on occasions. Blackbrooke has been fantastically received by teenagers and adults from all over the world and I don’t want to let them down with the second one.

Which six people would you invite to your boating party?

Derren Brown, Jimi Hendrix, Nikki Sixx, Dave Grohl, Sharon Osbourne and Bill Bailey. It’s only Jimi who’s passed on so perhaps Derren could host a séance?

What question would you liked me to have asked?

Can I order 1,000 copies of your critically acclaimed debut teen horror novel Blackbrooke?

Thank you, Emma. I’m afraid I can’t order a thousand copies, but being on The Boating Party might help a little.

Biography:

Emma was born and raised in Manchester.
Blackbrooke is her debut young adult horror novel after spending many years honing her skills drafting short stories and devouring horror through the ages from R.L. Stine’s Goosebumps collection through to Stephen King.

Emma is also the author of a semi-biographical account of her dad’s years in a rock band in the 1970s, Driving Exile.

Outside of her day job in public relations, Emma has worked for a Manchester entertainment magazine, reviewing theatre shows gigs and movies.

She gets most of her ideas and is inspired by music and also the fighting spirit of young people who aren’t afraid to challenge the norm and stand up for what they believe in. This fleeting ‘moment’ in life is what she tries to capture in her writing.
You can read Emma’s blog here: Emma Silver Author

Protection for Malala Yousufzai

What brave Taliban fighters.

As most of you are probably already aware, the Taliban tried to execute a 14 year old girl in Pakistan by the name of Malala Yousufzai.

They shot her in the head.

She is in a critical condition in hospital but it is hoped she will make a full recovery.

The Taliban, however, have vowed to kill her.

The reason they want her dead is because she wants to go to school.

She’s been actively campaigning for girls to have the right to education since she was 11 years old.

The Taliban don’t believe girls should be educated.

What I would like to know is – what are the Pakistani authorities, police and military doing to protect her?

That’s a genuine question. Is she being provided with round-the-clock security?

If not, why not?

And, without wishing to offend Pakistan’s sovereignty, should a UN security force be sent to the region to protect her?

This isn’t about protecting one child.

It’s about protecting an idea.

An idea a young girl has about moving her country forward.

It’s about protecting this idea from men who live in the Dark Ages.

I welcome any comments and thoughts about what is happening to Malala.

I hope that, one day, there will be a statue of her outside of a girls’ school she has fought so hard to achieve.

It was Gandhi who said: You must be the change you wish to see in the world.

Here’s a girl who is doing exactly that.

You can read Malala’s blog by clicking this link.

Alternatively, click on Malala’s image to go to the Amnesty International website.

Malala Yousufzai

Addendum:

A bit of good news – Malala has been airlifted to a hospital in the UK. You can read about it here: https://apps.facebook.com/theguardian/p/3b5bn/tw