Posts Tagged ‘pk’

Anti-interview with David Rose

Tuesday, September 20th, 2011

This is not an interview. I do not want to probe, or enter, to delve, to fathom; I do not want to see, or examine, I am not a surveyor. This is not an interview. Most interviews are boring, trite, an exercise in the ostentatious, the pavonine, an anthology of name dropping, sesquipedalianism, back-slapping, sycophantic saliva swapping. I have a few things that I want to share, this tête-à-tête is basically all about me, and to show me off in a wonderful, iridescent light I am going to employ not a light bulb but a great writer, and I mean a great writer, and hopefully some of the greatness will rub off on me. (more…)

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Web

Thursday, September 1st, 2011

The web can be Pandora’s Box and the web can be the spider web that ensures, the web can obfuscate time and the web can fill your head with the debris of a thousand car crashes, the web can be the cause of thrombosis, and the web much like LSD can have you believing that you can fly, (more…)

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Something Contemporary

Sunday, July 3rd, 2011

I am lucky enough to receive an email now and again from Willie Smith. If you have ever received an email from Willie Smith you will know what I am writing about. Willie Smith’s emails are pure art. (more…)

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In Response to Finding Role Models for Women Writers

Friday, June 10th, 2011

I was going to write about Eva Figes and Penelope Fitzgerald after reading Linda Ann Strang’s great piece on women writers. Two amazing writers, two truly amazing writers, two writers I would jump through hoops for. But then I had a thought. It came quickly, surrounded in a nebulous cloud of words. (more…)

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Bed

Monday, June 6th, 2011

Blurbs are the butlers in the big mansion standing over the dead Lord with the cup of poison in his hand. We all know how they get on the back of the page. We all know how they worm their way onto the front of the page. It’s no secret. A phone call. A letter. An email. (more…)

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Packing

Saturday, May 28th, 2011

I have been packing books, books, books, books, books, books, books, books, books, books, books, books, so many books. This is the time when I really hate books. But still I would never have a Kindle or some other device that they are trying to sell me. I will only buy a Nook if that Nook could blow me while I was reading a naughty book. (more…)

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Walking

Saturday, May 21st, 2011

We all walk. You walk. I walk. Although I am not walking now, but very soon I will walk, I will walk over to the kettle and make myself a cup of tea. Some walk quicker than others, some have a strange walk, some a funny walk, some of us have a serious walk, some march, stride, saunter, glide. Some walks are coquettish and some walks are so supercilious. You could be walking while reading this, you could be wishing you were walking, you could even now walk away. (more…)

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Pipe

Monday, May 9th, 2011

I am perplexed by the word existential. I can’t fathom the word. I don’t know how to use it. When it appears in one of my sentences it glows neon and mocks me. (more…)

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Chair

Saturday, April 30th, 2011

Where and how the writer sits or stands is maybe not as important as the final product but nevertheless it is important. A writer cannot escape the fact that he or she must have space to write.  A chair is just as important as a pen or a typewriter or a computer, the chair maybe a conventional chair, four legs, a stable, raised surface, or it could be unconventional; Erasmus tells us that he composed The Praise of Folly while sat on a donkey. There is a great deal of humour in this fact as there is in the book. One wonders if a slight bump in the road caused a passage to be composed. It is a very funny book. A small book but very funny. It is not surprising that it is a small book. I do not think Gaddis could have written The Recognitions on the back of a donkey. (more…)

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François Villon

Friday, February 11th, 2011
François Villon knew the streets.
François Villon knew the streets and he called the streets he knew “Shit” or in French «Merde».
I used Google translate to translate “Shit” into «Merde». (more…)

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