Well now, who would have thought a relevant topic would come up this quickly?
I am off to the Festival Of Writing in York next weekend, for talks, workshops, meetings with agents and various social events with lots of other writers. It’s a great chance to make contacts, maybe get an agent interested, but for me it’s also just great fun to hang out with writers and speak English for a whole weekend. Swedes understand English, of course, but it’s not the same as being able to freely talk shite (as we say in Ireland) with other native speakers.
There’s a contest on the Friday night, called “Friday Night Live” where you submit up to 500 words, of any piece you might have to hand. The best ones will get the chance to read out their piece to the whole assembled group — writers, agents, waiters, whoever. Massive instant exposure. And — hah! — I was chosen. Holy crapping crap. There’s a whole lot of excitement in the Kelly Mansions right now, I can tell you. And plenty of cartoon squealing.
Now for a week of test-reading in front of a mirror while deciding what shirt to wear. And whether or not I should wear nail varnish. I’m thinking yes. Coal black. If nothing else, they’ll sure as hell remember that.