London Magazine at 02 Wireless Festival in Hyde Park

"Taking the Stairs read: Trono gets a cheer!"

Yesterday and today (weather permittin') a crack team of poets from London Magazine will be performing at the 02 Wireless Festival which attracts an audience of over 30,000 - a day. Most of these festival goers didn't make it to Glastonbury (maybe) or are dedicated goths there for the Headlining acts like Morrissey but many will take refuge at the picnic tables near the beer tent and will hear a few poets and brave souls belt out some of their material. Yesterday I trundled across Hyde Park with a young novelist from Sweden named Louisa, where after standing around awkwardly we watched a tent get assembled by a team of dedicated members of the London Magazine crew. Since it was a Marquee with poles and so on I thought (incorrectly) I would be a sinch to help out but it was more complicated than I thought so I bought a few Tuborg, and an orange juice for some of the writers, who actually got the thing up. The beer prices weren't bad, but I was conned into a foot long hot dog for five quid and that didn't go down too good, (but stayed down thankfully.) Put on the Annapolis Valley Idol T-Shirt Lars gave me for the Toronto launch and took the mike.

Taking the Stairs was read to an enthusiastic audience who responded with raised fists when I said the words "Trono" a few times and the Port Williams noon bell siren went over well too. They seemed to like "I'm part Hillybilly but all man..." too.. Thanks to Sara-Mae who organized it all with a cheery face and gets to keep the tent at the end, too. Also I really liked the short story writer who wore a little make-up and read a story about cross dressing; I wasn't expecting it and it was really really faunny.

a line from Sloan

I put this to him at the book shop, a short while ago as I bought John Lanchester's Family Romance. I had given the bookstore owner a couple of copies of Taking The Stairs books and he said, "let us see how they do, $21.95 Canadian?" He got the calculator out and had a right go at pricing the thing -- he looked up with wary but clear eyes, "A tenner is a bit much for a book, most of these go for £8.99 and below in price." I said, "OK, how the poetry nights goin?"
He said, "We've stopped them, a dead loss." Then he took the book, "We'll price it as a tenner. See you in a week?"

So when back, in a weeks' time, in full suit and looking a little bedraggled, he went straight to till as I loomed in, pricing a book in his hand and there was a mad woman in there, (mad in the sense that she was fifty-odd, blond, a little sidetracked, speaking a list of book titles into a mobile phone) who seemed curious about everything that was happening. So I said because I was kinda giddy and had been receiving emails from a friend, I said "There is a line from a band in Canada, they are called Sloan",
and he said:

"OH,"

and I said, the line is:

"Once Upon a time I was on the scene,
with an attitude and a jacket of jean,
these days I'm up to my ass in routine..."

And he said:

"Right." (Waiting, I suppose, for there to be a point to this...?)

Anyway the mad woman was listening to all of this, and she gave me a glance as if to say that she either:

1. Wanted to add her bit
or
2. Wanted to wring my neck because I lost her place in the listings.

Ummm. Well...

This will unlikely get my books into the shop window, but I can't complain, and I like the tune, you know. It was on the strength of another person's enthusiasm, to be fair, but still. And someone in Ontario once remarked, (editor/poet I think), "Why is it that we seem to be embarrassed about where we are from and you folks from Nova Scotia, seem to be proud of it."
I don't know, but, well, that's all right then, isn't it?

Just Taking Instruction...

A "portable" version of the Scouts are Cancelled film is just $2.99.
Available "left, right and centre."

Wait now, you listen up

Chapter 46 The Insolent Boy.

This passage from The Insolent Boy was written in 1996-1997 and was the first time I started to get the idea of writing in the valley voice, the valley voice that came out most prominently in Scouts Are Cancelled which was published in 2002 in Toronto and which was made into an award winning film by John Scott in 2007. This was recorded at home a few years ago, so please excuse its' length, a few pauses, loogies and so on.

Valley boy...(in with the squaddies...)

NATO: A-Z ----------------ANNAPOLIS VALLEY A-Z

A: Alpha ---------------- A: Apple……. ….blossom fest….
B: Bravo ---------------- B: Boys …………..oh boys…….
C: Charlie ---------------- C: Charlie ………..Lemon……..
D: Delta ---------------- D: Dandy………….apple………..
E: Echo ---------------- E: Eh..(?)…………..wha?……….
F: Foxtrot ---------------- F: Fairy………… fine fruit…….
G: Golf ---------------- G: Gravenstein……bin………….
H: Hotel ---------------- H: How………..yah doon?……...
I: India ---------------- I: I…….wun’t touch her w/….….
J: Juliet ---------------- J: Jumpins ………..oh, my!……..
K: Kilo ---------------- K: Killer………Karl Krupp……
L: Lima ---------------- L: Lamb…………oh my……….
M: Mike ---------------- M: Magin’……………………….
N: November ---------------- N: Nice…………..some nice……
O: October ---------------- O: Over..shldr bldr hldr………..
P: Papa ---------------- P: Prix……..wrasslin.. ..gran…..
Q: Quebec ---------------- Q: Queer …n a tree dollar bill…
R: Romeo ---------------- R: Right………wild……………
S: Sierra ---------------- S: Sumpin …..isn’t……?……….
T: Tango ---------------- T: Terble…………some terble…
U: Uniform ---------------- U: U-Pick…………………...……
V: Victor ---------------- V: Village………stripper……….
W: Whisky ---------------- W:Wall………..we’ll see yus……
X: X Ray ---------------- X: X ……………..tra scoop…….
Y: Yankee ---------------- Y: .wanna spend nite jail(You?)
Z: Zulu ---------------- Z: Zinck’s…….Transport………

Sleep till June?

Just some quick notes on a very quick book tour eight dates in ten days, in Wuffill (NS), Ste Catherines (ON), Fonthill (ON), Niagara Falls (ON), Ithaca (NY), Ottawa (ON), Trono (ON) and Halifax (NS).

Started off sweating it out for the new books but they arrived, last minute on the 16th. Met up with an old childhood friend, Kevin, who works for the Greenwhich Volunteer Fire Department. Library event in Wolfville went well, with quite a few students from Acadia University out. Sold a quite few, it was mainly read, ask and answer questions. Why did I write? What topics did I choose and so on? Mentioned the early days meticulously plotting outlines and chapter synopsis etc. Mentioned that this approach got feedback and a publication but it was performing the poetry from the valley in the bars in Toronto that really ruffled feathers. Back to Halifax, helped my brother build a shed and talked with his four kids for a time. Started to feel sick, might have got a cold from my godson. Flew out early from Halifax on the 19th was picked up in Toronto by Stephen Dee at the airport.



Met Vermeersch for a lunch he said you must be happy with the book I said I was and he was off to record the unveiling of the Al Purdy statue for a magazine; he seemed pretty good and it was good to see him. It was back and forth from Ste Catharines to Toronto for three nights to perform the region in the evenings and then sleep in Toronto at about 3 am. Read the rejections slips passage a few times as well as the Prince of the Clouds passage which got a few laughs and they liked a new poem, Ferris Wheel Carnie. Read with Adam Getty at two events (Fonthill) at a gallery and Gary Barwin at another, in Niagara. The event at Niagara Falls was at a bookstore/coffee shop and it had a cool vibe, though not many showed up. Those that did all bought books, though. Jordan Fry, the promoter set-up the Virus series, to "infect" the region with writers. This worked well as part of the cold and sickness theme. While in Toronto took a call from a Ottawa radio station whilst eating a hot dog on University Avenue so had to spit it out in front of sunning office worker. Whilst in Toronto picked up Veridiana who flew in on the 21st and accompanied me by bus to through Grimsby, Ste Catharines and so on again to Niagara falls and she was so excited she even bought three books of poetry -- one from Mr. Getty and two from Mr. Gary Barwin. Mum and Dad came down for the Niagara reading, too. We (V. and me) stayed overnight in Niagara Falls and I started to get a fever, but still pretty happy considering. Never thought much of Niagara Falls but this was different with Veridiana. With her it was fun to hang out in. We took picture of the falls and enjoyed the sunshine and Tim Horton's bagels. Good for a cold right?


Thought it was lame to complain about being sick, when I kinda liked the outerworldly vibe so saw V. back to Toronto, got on a Greyhound to Ithaca, where we were detained at Buffalo. I was introduced to Nexxus cards and I thought how lame and corporate that term was, sounds exactly like a Credit card not an official document for travel. One quiet man who was dressed in a shiny suit and sitting at the back of the bus was detained at Buffalo and never came back on the bus. A guy behind me said it was because he didn't have a return ticket, but a cheeky part of me thought it was because he had been detained by the fashion crimes police. Still not fun, no? Slept part way till Ithaca, and noticed that the scenery got better and better as I got closer to Ithaca. Picked up by John Scott at the station, and he told me to get ready to start talking, though visited his wife and kids at home, one of his kids eyed me up and I have to say that I felt like I would have liked to be there to hang out but that was not going to be the case this time so then back to Bookery 11 for the reading where I started to relax as I liked the owner, Gary and some of John's friends down there. Gary asked me to read more of the book, the beginning of the book in particular and so I took his advice. Read the Lana Banana passage. People who had seen the scouts are cancelled movie as part of the FLEFF Film Festival at Ithaca came and bought books. Later Gary told me that if he was interested in a book, he wanted to hear if from the beginning, as publishing is so fickle these days. He sold five books and took two more to sell after I was gone. Drank after the reading and met one Kevin Michael, he was a lot of fun and we talked into the evening. Those are the times when things either cook (idea wise, creatively wise) or you just drink and so we just drank.

Up at 4:30 am to take the plane out of Ithaca to try and make it to Ottawa for the next evening. Flew out of Ithaca, liked that and then into Philadelphia and then onto Burlington airport in a small plane. Greyhound up the Canada from there. Only complaint was the running commentary by the bus driver, do they teach boring patter at Greyhound Driving School? Did this guy know every blade of grass on the route up there. Do they school these men in accounts or office jobs first to suck the life out of them? Or is this the American sense of humour?

Recalled that Kevin Michael asked me what it was like coming to Ithaca and I said it was like coming home, that got a laugh as I was just flying off the seat of my pants but I was in the mood to talk and when you are a little feverish, you'll say anything.

Made it to Ottawa but an hour and a half late for the event at the Manx pub. Taking the Stairs books literally started flying out of the shelves, or off the tables in the pub. THEY SOLD OUT of the books that had been sent down. I thought that was cool. There were a few taking pics, it was surreall, like a staged show for a movie but I flogged a few shivs too. Liked meeting John W MacDonald, he was cool. David O'Meara, the organizer said he had a blurb on his new book from Simon Armitage, that's cool, too. I was greeted by an old school mate, Chris Vanbuskirk, and we talked mainly about the valley, people we knew and all that. He drove me to the hotel I was booked into. It was a boutique one -- glass of champagne if you want at reception and good coffee but it smelled of cigarettes. Dumaurier? I slept OK. Still feeling sick and cranky and tired, though. He told me to take the bus early to Toronto. Not the greatest trip but better than Montreal-Toronto on the 401 and got to see a lot of the great Canadian wilderness on the way up to Belleville. Revisited door-to-door sales territory too in Tweed and Perth. I memorized some of those towns in 2001-2002. Can you imagine that I was there, locked in old folks houses? This is all covered in Taking The Stairs.

Back to Toronto to meet up at Type Books. The bookstore sold a few and I think I saw Vermeersch flog a couple too. Drank at the Pilot but couldn't relax as had to get up at 4:30, still with a fever, to fly to Halifax.

Was on Mainstreet on CBC to promote Taking the Stairs and the event with The Sorry's. Then went off at The Wardroom at Kings, hadn't been there for nearly twenty years, but I kept up the promo, read a few more passages at the prodding of folks who were there to read the book. They liked the telemarketting passage best, but also read the rejection letter scene. Trevor was on good form and he played his hits, The Falls and Druthers as well as Pass It Around. Then we sang together a countrified version of a valley poem from Creamsicle Stick Shivs.

The best part was the owwwwww. Darren Varga who wrote about Scouts are Canceled in Cineaction was there and we had a few drinks and talks about the movie. This went well sold quite a few books for that one. Port Rat Reunion, and there is a little sound out there from that... Late night interview with CIUT, with Nancy Bullis... and a few more emails to answer. Then a bit more work on Mark's shed, a call from Silas to catch up and a chance to see game three of the playoffs, across the road and B ball with Lars and the kids and then, still sick off to Ottawa to come back to London. Went to see the houses of Parliament on the layover and noted how sunny Canada is generally. The view across to the Gatineau is decent, bought some maple syrop at the Byword market but had to give it up at the airport, as we can't travel with liquids on planes anymore.
Back to London, and sleep sleep sleep till June..

Well thats my account anyway..

Thanks to everyone for the tour...
Rachel(s) and Trevor Millet and Silas especially.

Taking the Stairs book launch w/ special guests

Mal o Malley? Poem from an East London Musician (poet and spiritualist)

Stray Dog in Cluj



Waiting for the taxi

A stray dog comes into focus

And there is a stamp of foot

And shoosh, shoosh, shoosh;

‘Away dog!’



Sometimes, unmarried

I have been shooshed

When my presence

Becomes too much:

A stray dog at the door,

Celibate but sexual,

With arms

But nowhere to wrap them

With organs of love

But nowhere to put them



But You are calling me

To put all of me

On Your altar

And to burn in the incense of Your

Love



www.malgrosch.co.uk

Some Slick that Sam Slick...

Q: Wait now, outsold Dickens?
A: Two hunred year ago, boy.


The 2nd Haliburton Literary Evening is held to coincide with the London Book Fair, which provides an opportunity for authors from around the globe to celebrate their works in front of an international audience. Canadian authors, poets and playwrights are always well represented – whether they have flown in from Canada directly or live in London permanently. Join us in welcoming another fine selection of literary talent in London:
Annie Freud: London Poet. Recently published Best Man that Ever Was (Picador), which won the Glen Dimplex New
Writing Award in Ireland.
Ashis Gupta: Novelist, poet, former university professor, and one-time war correspondent. Founded Bayeux Arts, a publishing company, whose very first book was short-listed for the 1994 Booker Prize.
Joey Comeau: Author of Overqualified, his first work of fiction, and the world’s first cover letter novel.
John Stiles: Poet and novelist and subject of the critically-acclaimed and innovative poetry documentary, Scouts are Cancelled.
Kim Morrissey: Canadian poet and playwright whose books include Batoche, Poems For Men Who Dream of Lolita, Dora: A Case of Hysteria, and Clever As Paint: the Rossettis in Love. Latest play, Mrs. Ruskin, is forthcoming from Aark Arts. Writer-in-residence for the Purple Poets at the West Euston Time Bank and Third Age Project in London.

WHERE: The 333 Club
333 Fulham Road
London SW10 9QL
(Above Goat in Boots Pub)
DATE: Tuesday, 15 April, 2008
TIME : 18.30 - 21.30
NEAREST TUBE: Fulham Broadway (District Line) or
South Kensington (District, Circle,
and Piccadilly Lines)


Plus (maybe) a special surprise?




Great raffle prizes--raffle tickets included with entry!--including:
A copy each of The Clockmaker and The Attache; or, Sam Slick in England by Thomas Chandler
Haliburton, supplied by Nonsuch Publishing. And others...

West End Vignette

She looks at the man at the bar. It is a skeptical look, though slightly roused to suspicion. She is almost at the point of pondering, she is almost at the point of asking to herself and to others, why am I here? Why are these people taking an interest in me? She is thinking of the relationship that she has with herself, her sister, who she can trust, and a guy - a real character - who is a man on the make and she likes that about him.

"If I say yes, then there is an expectation that this could come to something." She shrugs. "I'm tired."

"Are you likely to be in the biz ness of making this attempt to make something of your life."

He was persistent, he had no, (or very few) options left; it had been quite a time. Forever.

"Are you saying that I am not making something of my life?"

Now he knew that he was in trouble. He had taken a chance flirtation to the point of no return.
She looked at him, in a way which, if he hadn't said such a silly thing, he might have mistaken for interest.

"I'm glad that I brought my umbrella, even if it is a cheap one." He watched her, fumbled fumbled.

"How much did you pay for it?"

'Nothing, it came with the Standard."

"Hmmm...." Her eyes to the ceiling?

He couldn't quite tell, did he look up at the ceiling? He felt as if he was starting to imagine what she was thinking and was she thinking what he was thinking. Was he thinking anything worth thinking, that was the problem, the thinking.

Her gaze was now like a spotlight on him. She smiled and she smiled in such a way as to name him: Oliver. Here he was Oliver. How had he arrived? Would he call her a cab? Would he offer her his cab, the cab she would call for him?

"My name is..."

"Oliver?"

She asked.

That was enough for him. He was off, head down.... He walked into the night air, put up his brolly, then for a second, thought better of it. It was up down all the way home, but he kept on going, not drunk but a little tipsy; he mumbled a little, he thought he saw a fading movie star in the corner lighting a cigarette. At home he realized who it was, red shocking hair, tied back with a ribbon, it was her: some thin old bit of rough from a Reality tv show.

By John Stiles