Showing posts with label Laurence Parnell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Laurence Parnell. Show all posts

Friday, July 22, 2011

Monday at the Garden Cafe was the finale for festival Writers penning their pieces in Residence at shops & cafes, with organisers Gordon and Mike hosting and Tricia Wastvedt picking her favourites for prizes. A real treat to hear all these little gems, several of them evoking their venues, like Jenny Gilling's sweetshop reflection: Nostalgia comes in many forms - this time it's in a jar. Popular winners were (in photo-order) Caroline Smailes' lyrical beach reverie, Rosie Finnegan's sassy & brilliantly- read monologue, and Jenny Woodhouse's well-crafted coming-of-age story.

Now life is settling down after the festival flurry and I've had time to transcribe my jottings from this summer's events, here's a mezze of quotes I found inspiring, wise, or just head-noddingly true.
• Exercise is brilliant for creativity. - Debby Holt, novelist
• Humour is vital. It deflates tension, increases desperation, underlines deep sadness. When in deep trouble and sorrow, laughter is all you can do. - Barry Cunningham, publisher
• Lines should not explain the image. We think about sex while we wash up. Line and image should be at variance. - Patrick Sandford, theatre producer.
• The process of poetry is like sculpting an elephant, just chip away everything that isn’t an elephant. - Rosemary Dun, performance poet
• What you leave out is as important as what you put in. - Geoff Holt, writer
• Every sentence must be there for a reason. If it’s not, take it out. - Lorella Belli, agent
• Be fearless. You can terrify yourself with a plan, so just plough on and get to the end. - Matt Graham, screenwriter
• 'There are three rules for writing the novel. Unfortunately nobody knows what they are.' - W.Somerset Maugham, quoted by Steve Voake, author

Laurence Parnell, luthier extraordinaire, gave a brilliant solo concert in the chapel of Wells Cathedral which demonstrated his craftsmanship as well as performance skill - his fretless classical is a thing of moorish beauty as well as sounding fabulous. One especially lovely melancholic melody, Dance, for those who'd rather not, I remember well from Liquid Jam days, when Laurie joined Hazel Stewart and I at poetry performances and we would end our set with a plus-words version, jointly composed. I wanted to embed the Dance tune here but don't know how - any ideas, please? - so will link instead to Laurie's interpretation of Writing with a Knife. Our trio disbanded naturally when Hazel left Frome some years ago, but I can't resist including an image from our promo in those fresh(er)-faced days. Ahh...