Willesden Herald International Short Story prize

I'm really pleased to be able to reveal that I've been shortlisted for this years' Willesden Herald International Short Story Prize for my story, Dance Class. The story will shortly appear in an anthology of the competition, with the winners being announced shortly. It's exciting to appear on a list with nine other excellent writers, and I bet they're all as chuffed as I am to have their work appear in the book. Many thanks to Stephen Moran of the Willesden Herald for organising, and to David Means for judging.

The full Willesden Herald shortlist is here.

Fictions of Every Kind: Blast Off!

On Tuesday 12th March, I'll be reading of a couple of new stories at Fictions of Every Kind: Blast Off! I'll be appearing alongside the lovely and almost talented enough to hate Gareth Durasow, who last read at Fictions of Every Kind two years ago.

There's more info on the facebook events page here.

Currently reading

All Our Spoons Came From Woolworths Barbara Comyns
Fup Jim Dodge

The Franzen Get-Out

The Franzen Get-Out (also known as The Franzen Excuse): The excuse white, overprivileged male authors use when challenged about their tedious, overprivileged novels about tedious, overprivileged white people living tedious, overprivileged white lives*. Though the novels may present characters with unhealthy levels of narcissism, self-obsession, and limited awareness of their own status and privilege, the author of the work, rather than accepting this as valid criticism, may employ The Franzen Get-Out: "This work and these characters are a comment on the nature of our American culture of self-obsession and entitlement."

See also: Lack of willingness to do the kind of low-status work that will enable you to write anything outside of the sphere of your own limited experience; 

Also: Not knowing anybody who isn't similarly privileged as yourself, and being unwilling to have the kinds of experiences that would bring you into contact with people hailing from a wide range of social backgrounds;

Also: Not wanting to have anything to do with poor or dirty people.

Currently reading

The Witness Juan Jose Saer

Reasons to Live Amy Hempel

*In the near future, I plan to write a post about writing convincing female perspectives and female characters. For now, I haven't got time to do it, so you'll have to be content with me spitting tacks about Franzen. 

Bad Language

Last week, my Fictions co-compadres Mason Henry Summers and Ian Pepper and I went on a little outing to Manchester to go to a night called Bad Language. Run by a group of writers, Bad Language is a monthly writers' open mic night that goes on in the back room of a pub called The Castle.

I went, and read the opening of a short story I've been working on called "Control". Mason tried to take a video but it came out a bit Wrong. Instead, I made the resulting audio file into an MP3, which you can listen to on my Soundcloud.



Currently reading

The Marriage Plot Jeffrey Eugenides
The Witness Juan Jose Saer
The Illustrated Man Ray Bradbury

Scenes From A Life

Scene: A New Years' Party. In a bar in the centre of town - in the run-off, undesirable part of the city - a group of friends, known to each other through the sort of gigs that ruin your hearing, are talking. Two are propped up against the bar, beers in hand. They are trying not to get in the way.

Quiet, unvoiced thoughts of self: Wow, look at all these people. I wonder if they go out all the time. I bet they do. They probably talk to each other, and everything. Not like me, spending all my evenings glaring fiercely into a laptop and jabbing at the keys. Those lucky, socialising bastards.

Self, to old friend: Hey, Neil! How's it going?

Old friend (trying not to get beer on floor): Hey! Great, thanks!

Self: You up to much this week - after this madness is over?

Old friend: You know, I am. Guess what I'm doing on Thursday?

Quiet, unvoiced thoughts of self: He has Thursday off work? Wow, I know what I'd do if I had Thursday off. I'd go and hang out in the library. Best not say that, though. That's a shit thing to say at a party.

Self: No, what?

Old friend: I'm off to Madrid. I've been invited to play a solo set over there - me, and Seb Rochford from Acoustic Ladyland. We're getting flown over there, and flown back. Not bad, eh?

Self: That's ace! Hey, congratulations Neil. I bet you'll have a brilliant time. And it'll be warm, too. You lucky sod.

Old friend: Yeah! I know! I'm really excited.

(Pauses; drinks beer).

Old friend: So what about you, anyway? Haven't seen you for ages. What you been up to?

Self: Oh, you know, not much. The usual. Working. Writing. Writing. Working.

Quiet, unvoiced thoughts of self: That is no good, Bradley. Jazz it up a bit. Try to make it more interesting and dramatic.

Self: You know. Making things up in my head and then typing them down into a blank Word document.

Quiet, unvoiced thoughts of self: Should I tell him about discovering the Navigator function in Open Office last week? I wonder whether people, in socialising situations, are interested in that sort of thing.

Self: I've been working on some short stories. This and that. You know. I've been working on a novel. It's er - it's about ...

(Friend nods; smiles politely).

Self: You see, the trouble with a large document like a novel is that it's quite unwieldy. You might want to rearrange the chapters - say, if you realise, a part of the action would be better moved to an earlier or later section. Because these things don't just organise themselves, you know. And that's why I was so excited last week when I discovered a new function in my word processing software...

Quiet, unvoiced thoughts of self: ABORT ABORT DO NOT SAY ANY MORE WORDS

Self: Hey listen, the band is starting.

(Glasses raised; people cheer; the band begins to play).

Currently reading

Stone Junction Jim Dodge 
A brilliant present from Ian Pepper, one of my Fictions of Every Kind co-conspirators. Thanks, Ian!

Highlights from the day: a summary

Began the day by proof-reading a submission. Slightly upset to find said submission contained a number of errors in the areas of: subject / object agreement, syntax, verb conjugation, and repetition. Filled with horror at the amount of work said story still required. Had a little cry.

Continued the days' work by searching hard drive for a synopsis. It was a good synopsis, that synopsis; I spent 2 hours on it on Christmas Eve. Synopsis nowhere to be found. Realise must have accidentally deleted synopsis in my haste to get to the sherry. Had another little cry.

Left library to go to bus stop. Searched purse for bus ticket. Could not find bus ticket. Chin wobbled like Claire Danes' chin in every episode of Homeland. Had a little cry. Find bus ticket between coffee shop loyalty card (two stamps) and card reading It's OK, I'm An Anarchist (never used). Had stern word with self re: crying in public. Felt very ashamed of self.

In summary: hormones.

Currently reading

The Long Run Mishka Shubaly
In The Country of Last Things Paul Auster
McSweeney's 38 (A Christmas present, well done, boyfriend)
My Friend Dahmer Derf Backderf

Fictions of Every Kind

Fictions of Every Kind is a quarterly DIY writers' night based in Leeds, UK. It has been running for 2 years now and is run by a small group of writers, including myself. Our aim is to provide support and encouragement to anyone involved in the lonely act of writing. You can find out more about our planned events by following us on twitter (@fictionsoek), on facebook, or going to our website.

It has recently come to my attention that the Fictions Of Every Kind website doesn't show up in web results, and I'm not really sure why this is. I spent a bit of time trying to find out, but it turns out that when you type "Why doesn't my website show up in Google" into Google, the answers you get back are all a load of two-year old gobbledegook. I couldn't make any sense of any of them.

As a shortcut, knowing that this blog does show up in search engines (oh, sweet mysteries of the internet), I've decided to put a link to the Fictions of Every Kind website here. You can add it to your RSS feed or blogger feed or whatever it is you young people do to stay abreast of things these days. Our next event, themed 'Apocalypse', is on December 11th at Wharf Chambers with the singularly marvellous Anneliese Mackintosh. There will be games, prizes, the writers' open mic (true stories, short and flash fiction and novel excerpts all welcome; please keep your contributions at 7 minutes or under), a DJ, and a short film screening. Entry will continue to be a recession-friendly £3.