Comma Press and the University of Central Lancashire are proud to host the annual Dinesh Allirajah Prize for Short Fiction. Dinesh Allirajah (1967-2014) once said of himself (referencing a Sonny Criss sleeve note): ‘I am a jazz writer, which is a full-time creative job’. Dinesh had many other occupations, too – lecturing in creative writing at Liverpool John Moores University, the University of Central Lancashire and Edge Hill, running workshops and literacy classes in community centres, schools and prisons, acting as Chair of the National Black Arts Alliance and the National Association for Literature Development, as well as being a long-term director of Comma Press. He was also a DJ, playwright, radio presenter, cricket enthusiast and blogger. His short stories were featured in numerous anthologies and magazines, and first collected in A Manner of Speaking (Spike Books, 2004). Scent is the first comprehensive collection of his work, published by Comma Press following his sudden passing in December 2014.
Dinesh was a Founding Board Member and Director of Comma (2007-2012), and also lectured in Creative Writing at UCLan for 8 years and was much-loved by everyone he worked with. Amongst these many other things, first and foremost, he was a writer, and he loved to write short fiction, which he posted regularly on his blog (Real Time Short Stories). Comma in partnership with the University of Central Lancashire, have set up this prize, in his name, as part of a lasting legacy of his love of writing short fiction.
The theme for the inaugural year (2018) was ‘Café Stories’, in honour of Dinesh’s Café Shorts series which he posted on his blog. He believed cafes to be “fertile ground for the short story.” In his own words, he said “The reason a café setting works is because we understand what goes on there, without the gauze of a local or historical context.”
The prize is free and open to anyone 18 years or over who is a resident of the UK, for a single story which must not have been published anywhere else, online or in print. It is free to submit your entry, but only one per writer please. All entries were made anonymous upon receipt to ensure the shortlist is chosen entirely on the quality of the story.
The shortlist was chosen with the help of UCLan creative writing students, who then handed it over to our panel of judges for 2018, which included Dr. Naomi Kruger (Lecturer in Creative Writing at UCLan), Claire Dean (author of multiple short stories for Comma, debut collection published by Papaveria in 2017), Abdulrazak Gurnah (novelist and lecturer at University of Kent) and Inua Ellams (poet, performer, playwright, graphic artist and designer).
Featuring all ten shortlisted stories, including the winning story, 'Bakhur' by Lucas Stewart, and stories by runners-up Stephen Hargadon and Selma Carvalho.
Lucas Stewart is an award winning author and literature programmer. Born in the UK he has spent over 20 years living in Asia and Africa, including Iraq, Sudan and Myanmar. A former Literature Advisor to the British Council he has advised leading international literature organisations such as PEN International, the Publishers Circle Delegation, Index on Censorship, the UK’s National Centre for Writing, Asia House and the Hedda Foundation on transitional literature and literary industries in Myanmar.
His debut non-fiction book The People Elsewhere: Unbound Journeys with the Storytellers of Myanmar (Penguin/Viking 2016) was shortlisted for the 2018 Saroyan International Prize for Writing. Other non-fiction, on ethnic nationality literature and wider literary censorship, have been published widely including Pen America, The Diplomat and the Asia Literary Review.
He is co-editor, with Alfred Birnbaum, of Hidden Words, Hidden Worlds: Contemporary Short Stories from Myanmar, (British Council, 2017), the first anthology of translated ethnic Myanmar short stories published in the UK.
His own short stories have won the national DA Prize for Short Fiction, nominated for Best of the Net and appeared in multiple places including twice anthologized by UK ‘Northern Publisher of the Year’, Comma Press (most recently Resist: Stories of Uprising, Oct 2019).
The Dinesh Allirajah Prize for Short Fiction 2018 is a collection of short stories that each rotates around a central concept, that of the cafe. The writers included in the selection are not big names; in most cases they have been published only in literary journals, or were nominated in other literary contests. It is much to their credit - and that of the judges and editors of this volume - that the resulting collection is as good as it is.
So why have I given a rating of only 3 stars? Well, the short-ish answer is that I believe that all literature should be judged equally. In my own reviews, I have given five stars to the likes of Tove Jansson, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Christopher Hitchens, and so forth; in the past I have given four stars to Bill Bryson, Milan Kundera, and Philip K. Dick. I believe that many of the smaller publications (and here I include self-published efforts) on Amazon are rated higher than they ought to be, and thus the challenge for readers is to find work that is honestly worth such high marks. There are many ways to explain the phenomenon - readers of self-published works and of collections like this do not like to seem stingy with their ratings; they do not see that prize collections occupy the same literary space as Charles Dickens et al; and perhaps they know the author and want to be kind and supportive. I know this last one is true - how else can I explain the high ratings of my own books on Amazon? I am no George Orwell, and yet my average ratings reach higher than some of the Orwell canon.
One would hope that any prospective reader would delve into the reviews for any new book, unless they were already convinced of the book's value for them. I can write as many negative reviews of Paulo Coelho's abysmal 'The Alchemist' - the fact is, for some his is the best book in the world, and spoke directly to their heart. There is no accounting for taste.
But there is accounting for quality. Within this slim volume - at 100 pages it is a short read - there are a few very good pieces, some pretty decent pieces, and a few that I have already almost entirely forgotten - and I won't be terribly sad when they slip loose of my memory entirely.
The collection opens with 'Black and Orange Caterpillars' by Rose McDonagh. Her story is compelling, follows a traditional-ish narrative arc (by which I mean it comes to a conclusion of sorts), contains characters that the reader cares about, and is both insightful and poignant. Her writing puts me in mind of Penelope Fitzgerald. I paid a quid for the book, and reading this first tale gave me the value for money I was after; I'll be looking for more by this talented writer.
Next was 'Bakhur', which I liked and disliked in almost equal measure. For one thing, it is too expository, and also not expository enough, if you can forgive the contradiction. We are told too much about the characters, and yet Lucas Stewart, the writer, seems to want his cake and to eat it, for much is not revealed directly, only between the lines. I did like the moral of the story, such as it is - that we sometimes fail to appreciate the value we add to a community - but about the setting I am likewise in two minds. The story takes place in Sudan, though it could as well have been set in Torquay for all the location really matters. It is good that we can read tales that transport us to another place, so that such places seem less alien to us in the future, but at the same time one can charge the writer with a certain amount of cultural appropriation as well.
Kim Squirrell's 'Four Times Forty Seconds in the Exploding Bakery Cafe' is a fun read, though insubstantial like a chocolate croissant; sometimes I lost track of what was happening to who, and who was thinking what. 'Cherry Girl' by Eva Bohme left me cold, especially with the ending - it felt like a superficial exploration of Japanese subculture, as though her material was chosen to shock; in the end it felt like an overworked cultural cliche. 'The Proper Way to Eat Sardines', by Victoria MacKenzie, was at times overwritten, a problem with much of today's output (and I imagine I have been as guilty as anyone else with this) but is saved by grace of being interesting. However, I had a hard time getting to grips with the character of the narrator's father - for such an adventurous traveller he seemed rather priggish and overly conservative by the end, almost as though MacKenzie had changed her mind about what she wanted him to be halfway through the story.
'Flat White' told me nothing that a hundred other stories haven't already told me about death; 'How Abu Baker Met His Third Wife' was strange, slightly confused, and in its descriptions of the eponymous protagonist there was a whiff of over-sexed racism - and for a moment I had him confused with Abu Bakr, the father-in-law of the prophet Muhammad. 'Showdown at Devil's End' barely seems to contain a cafe - the action revolves around a card game, and I've never known these to be played in Costa's.
But then there are two very good short stories that redeem much of what had preceded them. The first was the slightly sci-fi 'The Death of the Grapevine', written in brisk, controlled language by Marija Smits. There was something of Stanislaw Lem about the tale, which I won't spoil by giving details. And then, to close the book, 'The Lull' by Stephen Hargadon is a Julian Barnes-esque (can we say Barnesian?) story set in a greasy spoon. The dialogue is for the most part spot on, with only the occasional loss of control, and some of the best sentences in the whole book are to be found here ("Terry felt dizzy, as though his mind was floating away in tiny flakes, each one unique and impossible to reclaim.").
The question, then, is simple: should you bother with this book? The only answer I can give is that it depends. If you don't mind spending a trivial amount - a fraction of the cost of Edge Magazine, to take the first example that comes to mind - then yes, you should get this book. If you're expecting every story in the collection to be as good as the first and the last two, then no, save your change, and research the three authors concerned. They've got work elsewhere.
Or, to put it another way, of course you should buy this book. I've been reading a collection of essays by Ray Bradbury, and without the support of people like you, prospective reader, he would never have been published. We'd have had no 'Fahrenheit 451', 'Dandelion Wine', or 'Martian Chronicles.' So do buy this book, give these new writers a chance, and remember the names of those who earn your literary respect.
Little stories sharing 'cafe' as a theme, nothing earth moving but a nice quick read and all a short length so can fit a read in those few minutes you might find spare.