Rachel Sargeant's Blog, page 3
July 29, 2014
Summer School Day Three
An emotional workshop today based on the writings of Patrick McGuinness about going back. A place remembered can be very different when revisited, an anchor might become a wreck.
In the evening we heard readings by two inspiring poets, Tom Pow and Eoghan Walls. I was particularly moved by Tom's poem in support of reading and libraries.
In the evening we heard readings by two inspiring poets, Tom Pow and Eoghan Walls. I was particularly moved by Tom's poem in support of reading and libraries.
July 28, 2014
Summer School Day Two
A great workshop about embodiment in writing. We looked at Standing Female Nude and Comprehensive by Carol Anne Duffy. Both are worth a read. I especially related to Comprehensive.
I heard a great recipe for Cameroon fried chicken. It starts by burning the feathers off.
I also learnt that there are no old people's homes in Cameroon and only one in Nigeria. The most thought-provoking fact of the day.
I heard a great recipe for Cameroon fried chicken. It starts by burning the feathers off.
I also learnt that there are no old people's homes in Cameroon and only one in Nigeria. The most thought-provoking fact of the day.
July 27, 2014
Summer School Day One
Today is the first day of my Creative Writing Summer School. I've been working online all year with the sixteen other students on the course. I felt like an Internet bride. For months I've scrutinized their thumb-nail photographs and fallen in love with their eloquent words. I've been nervous all week, more about the journey than about meeting my writing partners. I haven't been alone on a train since 1987. I would have ducked out given half a chance.
But I'm here; I made it. I was feeling pretty proud of my achievement until I chatted to one of the other delegates. She arrived from Cameroon on Thursday, crossed London alone and took the train for the rest of her journey. She has never been to England before.
We had a good first evening and were treated to traditional roast beef or nut roast dinner. The Cameroon lady made a spirited effort to eat Yorkshire Pudding.
But I'm here; I made it. I was feeling pretty proud of my achievement until I chatted to one of the other delegates. She arrived from Cameroon on Thursday, crossed London alone and took the train for the rest of her journey. She has never been to England before.
We had a good first evening and were treated to traditional roast beef or nut roast dinner. The Cameroon lady made a spirited effort to eat Yorkshire Pudding.
December 7, 2013
Home
It's months since my last post. I completed the transcription of my father-in-law's memoirs but found myself unable to use them as the basis for a novel. I couldn't bring myself to use or distort the memory of my husband's dearly loved father for my own advancement as a writer. I decided therefore to return to an earlier project - a complete, out-of-my-head, made-up story about concealed power in a closed community.
I enrolled on an MA course in October with the aim of using my novel idea as the basis for an MA project. One term in and the novel has shifted again. It is still about concealed power but with another theme too: the importance of homeland. It involves a lot of research about refugees and displaced persons, and it is making me re-examine my own notion of home. I hope to use some of my father-in-law's description of a prisoner of war camp as background for conditions in a refugee camp. As always, no experience in life, or writing, is ever wasted.
I enrolled on an MA course in October with the aim of using my novel idea as the basis for an MA project. One term in and the novel has shifted again. It is still about concealed power but with another theme too: the importance of homeland. It involves a lot of research about refugees and displaced persons, and it is making me re-examine my own notion of home. I hope to use some of my father-in-law's description of a prisoner of war camp as background for conditions in a refugee camp. As always, no experience in life, or writing, is ever wasted.
June 12, 2013
Lucky
I have now transcribed three of the four tapes my father in law recorded, some 30,000 words. I am struck by how often life is a game of chance. A recurring phrase in his memories is, "I was lucky" and it punctuates the end of paragraphs in which he describes brushes with death or injury: being shot at by the enemy, being guarded by a different, trigger-happy enemy, falling asleep at the wheel, narrowly missing an open inspection cover in the dark. Yes, he was lucky. Is that true for most of us?
May 15, 2013
Courage
I transcribe my late father-in-law's memoirs as swiftly as I can because I don't want to hit the rewind button too often. I worry how fragile these precious cassette recordings will be. I wish I had the wherewithal to re-record them for prosperity.
The matter-of-factness of his war-time account touches me. It is reminiscent of his mother's diary from Gallipoli in 1915.
Courage in adversity is underplayed and understated.
The matter-of-factness of his war-time account touches me. It is reminiscent of his mother's diary from Gallipoli in 1915.
Courage in adversity is underplayed and understated.
May 12, 2013
Chianti
I have listened to the second half of Tape 1 of my late father-in-law's memoirs. I feel sad and regretful. Sad for his passing, and regretful that I didn't show an interest in his memoirs while he was alive. I was too young and stupid to value the sacrifices that he and millions like him made for peace.
I love the tiny, vivid details he weaves into the bigger tapestry of military manoeuvres. I can see the chianti bottle he describes. He should have been a writer.
So far the recording has brought to light two coincidences. He camped with his battalion at Mena outside Cairo in December 1942, unaware that his mother had served there in the Australian Army Nursing Service in 1915, prior to embarking on a hospital ship bound for Gallipoli. (I have read her diary; my father in law never had the chance to study it in detail.)
However, he was aware of the second coincidence because he commented on it in the recording. The date 14th June became triply significant in his life: his mother's birthday; his own wedding day in 1947; and it was the date in 1942 when he was taken prisoner of war.
I love the tiny, vivid details he weaves into the bigger tapestry of military manoeuvres. I can see the chianti bottle he describes. He should have been a writer.
So far the recording has brought to light two coincidences. He camped with his battalion at Mena outside Cairo in December 1942, unaware that his mother had served there in the Australian Army Nursing Service in 1915, prior to embarking on a hospital ship bound for Gallipoli. (I have read her diary; my father in law never had the chance to study it in detail.)
However, he was aware of the second coincidence because he commented on it in the recording. The date 14th June became triply significant in his life: his mother's birthday; his own wedding day in 1947; and it was the date in 1942 when he was taken prisoner of war.
May 11, 2013
Today's the day
Today I start the research for my next novel. So why blog about it? To give me the added incentive to put pen to paper; the urge to procrastinate is overwhelming. I despatched the last novel on its bumpy tour of agents and publishers three months ago but since then I've been tinkering with another finished novel instead of cracking on with the new one. So enough of that; today's the day.
The new project will have two firsts for me: 1. The research will be more personal than any I've previously undertaken as I'm about to listen to the memoirs of my late father-in-law. He recorded five cassette tapes of his life and times. It will be the first time I've heard them since he died ten years ago. 2. I have no idea what kind of book will emerge. I think it will be set in the Second World War but I'll have to wait and see where his memoirs lead me. For someone who lives by plot and structure, it's a daunting but exhilarating prospect.
The new project will have two firsts for me: 1. The research will be more personal than any I've previously undertaken as I'm about to listen to the memoirs of my late father-in-law. He recorded five cassette tapes of his life and times. It will be the first time I've heard them since he died ten years ago. 2. I have no idea what kind of book will emerge. I think it will be set in the Second World War but I'll have to wait and see where his memoirs lead me. For someone who lives by plot and structure, it's a daunting but exhilarating prospect.
