Keeping the amateur editing gig to two zines this year. Last year I edited or co-edited four little journals. Enjoy it though I did, in 2017 it will be just ZineWest and Mihaela Cristescu’s next anthology: “On the Wallaby Track”.
ZineWest 16: here’s our eminent judge Luke Carman and Julie Owens MP (with prize at ready) congratulating writers.
Every ZW looks a bit different despite sticking to a basic A5 white cover. Front image by Geoff Sellman and back cover by Robert Frost
Co-edited the first of Mihaela Cristescu’s anthologies to include a strong line up of Australians writing in English. Love Luminita Serbanescu’s artwork.
Also in 2016 I helped a friend self-publish an anthology (which sold out) and finally, I played back-up for the editor of NWG’s financial members’ anthology.
Dangling first and ninth Editions of ZineWest at Express Media/West Words Tracks for young writers at ICE earlier in August. Great all-day program.
Natural grayscale on a winter St Georges Basin. In the airspace, were pelicans and drones. On the margins, teal and white faced herons. A swan or two and invariably, spur-winged plovers who have long been given another name.
Five writers from NEW Writers’ Group Inc have been invited to read short pieces of their original work at this event. NWG has an ongoing friendship with Romanians in Sydney through sharing each other’s writing, cheering each other on. We much admire our colleagues who create works in more than one language. Mihaela Cristescu’s latest Romanian / English poetry volume IT Solander will be launched by author and filmmaker Anamaria Beligan. Other writers and performers offer poetry, music, puppetry. Details Here
Saturday, 26th March, 2016, 11:00 am in the magnificent Dixson Room at the State Library of New South Wales. Free entry, refreshments included.
Not really understanding what “beta” means in terms of vulnerability, I moved to Windows 10. It is currently working well, much better than at first, but the cost to my time is not worth it. After several standard efforts, I used a tool that was more drastic than it described itself. It resulted in my seeing the full Windows 10 panel for the first time but stripped my computer of things I need – like Word, Publisher – and oh yes, Norton Security. In the short frazzled period I spent getting back my beloved Word, I didn’t notice the absence of armed guards front and back. In waltzed a virus unchallenged – one of those bell-ringing noisy shouting kinds that insist you ring a number or your computer will die and won’t shut up until you turn said computer offfff. It litters adware as far as the eye can see and is probably recording your every keystroke for future reference. I managed to reinstall Norton and then they set out to rid me of the virus and clean up every file. It took two sessions of remote control and finally I was back in business. Still can’t download Google Chrome though without trouble, so now I’m using Internet Explorer, okay fine, but not my first choice. In brief, my advice is only go for Windows 10 if you’re a tech-head. The tech-heads in my family can’t believe I was that stupid.
A Scarlet Robin snapped by a friend through her loungeroom window. It’s a year since I’ve seen one. Yellow robins yes, but no flames, scarlets, roses or pinks. Have to get about more.
After a fixation with the prose of Hilary Mantel (when she’s writing about Cromwell) I’ve turned back to an old favourite to dip into at leisure: The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon.
I’ve become sensitive about mispronouncing things lately and I must have missed the book’s clues on how to say the name Kavalier when I first read this gigantic American novel. I’m now busy correcting my auto pronunciation after discovering it’s Kavalier as in Maurice. I’m not sure how old you have to be to get that, Maurice Chevalier died in 1972. But it’s that kind of book, best not to skim…
Via google today I found a Chabon quote which I rather like even though I have little hope of learning from it. Interesting to think about though if reading Chabon’s work:
Re Ray Bradbury’s The Rocket Man:
I think it was when I got to the butterflies — in that brief, beautiful image comprising life, death and technology — that the hair on the back of my neck began to stand on end. All at once, the pleasure I took in reading was altered irrevocably. Before then I had never noticed, somehow, that stories were made not of ideas or exciting twists of plot but of language. And not merely of pretty words and neat turns of phrase, but of systems of imagery, strategies of metaphor. For the full statement see Washington Post archive
Here’s a summary
Here’s a review
We were standing up the hill near the Premier Cruz and a Frenchman was overlooking the valley. In his school English and our school French we began a conversation. He described how his grandfather tilled the valley below with horse and furrow until he began to look like son cheval. We laughed and then he said, pointing “Il reste”. And that was when my French utterly failed me. How could I tell him that somewhere near Ypres my grandfather and his brother-in-law also rested in French soil, their names written on walls in France and in Canberra. I have never worried for their remains. Safe in French soil just like the vigneron who plied his horse.