Showing posts with label Sydney Writers' Festival. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sydney Writers' Festival. Show all posts

Tuesday, 27 May 2008

A Good Fairlie Time at The Sydney Writers' Festival

Luckily for me, Fairlie has done a superb job of summarising our weekend at The Sydney Writers' Festival. We had a great weekend of writerly activity, no cooking, no cleaning, no washing and met up with two of our favourite bloggers, Nutmeg and Blue Mountains Mary.

So all that's left for me to say is - check out what Fairlie said.


Actually, I do have something else to say.

Fairlie bought gifts! Star Wars stuff for Padawan Learner, a new beanie for Blossom, chocolates for Firegazer (goooone!) and looky what I got - a special Fairlie Designs knitting needle holder rolly-up thingy. Fantastic. Love love love it.

Thanks Fairlie, you didn't need to bring gifts, we just love having you to stay. But, hey, I'm not going to say no to the gifts either!

Oh and for those interested in apostrophe agony. Check out the photo above.

And yet next door they got it right. A disagreement between contractors perhaps?

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Wednesday, 21 May 2008

...and then I woke up to find it was all a dream

"Destination" announced my GPS with its usual nasal-electronic twang. Straight ahead Balmain Road looked to peter out; to my left was a lane overgrown with weeds; to my right was an opening heralded by a boom gate with flaking white paint that looked like it hadn't lowered in twenty years. A dark green wooden sign adorned by a single streamer announced that I should turn here if I wanted to find the NSW Writers' Centre.

As my car crunches over the worn out tarmac I feel in the pit of my stomach that I should've checked this place out before sending my daughter off here with a friend this morning. I was driving through the grounds of a long disused hospital with old sandstone buildings surrounded by fibro shacks, demountables and signs of abandonment everywhere. I assure myself that if anything was amiss I would've had a concerned phone call by now, from the friend who drove the girls.


It's now 2.45pm and I'm looking for the building, amongst the thirty or so I can see, that has held my daughter and two of her friends in a creative writing class for the day. I pull into a makeshift carpark next to an abandoned demountable and see this sign ahead. I am irrationally relieved to note that some care has been taken to print this sign with its deliberately placed apostrophe. I am also buoyed by the sight of recently installed, expensive-looking, outdoor lighting - the sort seen on tennis courts in Toorak or Killara - as if this is a sign that my daughter is in good hands.

As instructed by the sign I walk around to the front of the building, past the book-binding room and a small library, to find a charming building filled with signs of bookiness. Bookiness on a budget. The verandah was filled with plastic tables and metal chairs with flaking paint, possibly of the same vintage as the boom gate I came through earlier.

Inside twenty 9-13 year olds were taking turns to stand up and read from their day's work. Unfortunately, I had just missed Blossom's recital. I'm sure this was quite deliberate on her part. I can imagine her hand went up like a shot to volunteer to read first when she saw I wasn't in the room yet. The other readings, however, were delightful. The convenor, Frances Watts*, had obviously spent a lot of time working with descriptiveness as we heard about a dress that "was so heavy that it almost pulled me backwards" and a Magpie whose "underside of his wing shone like the golden ring he was carrying."


And while there were variations on the theme, not one young author "woke up to find it was all a dream".




*Frances Watts convened this session as part of the Sydney Writers' Festival.
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Saturday, 2 June 2007

If I didn't have to do my assignment...

If I wasn't such a dedicated student I would be at the Sydney Writers' Festival. If I was more of a recalcitrant I would've gone to see


Sophie Gee talk about her new book The Rape of the Lock in a session called Plundering History.


Richard E Grant in conversation with Jennifer Byrne.

PLUS

The Future of English; William Dalrymple in conversation with Christopher Kremmer; The Writers Life: Don Watson; Ayaan Hirsi Ali in Conversation; Lionel Shriver in Conversation and Laugh Out Loud. And that's without really looking that hard. Next year I've resolved to go to both the Sydney and Melbourne Writers'/Writer's Festivals.


But, alas, right now I am sitting at home avoiding my assignment in other countless ways - like writing to this blog.
Only 10 days to go until I finish....






Wednesday, 30 May 2007

Sydney Writers' Festival - The Kids' Big Day Out


Today is the official start of the Sydney Writers' Festival*. It will go until Sunday 3rd June and features writers from all over Australia as well as a number of international ones.

Today KelpieBlossom, and two of her friends, attended a full-day writing class for 9-12 year olds taken by Tashi author, Anna Fienberg. The kids learnt about drawing on their own feelings to make imaginary stories seem real. They were also set a number of writing exercises. KelpieBlossom wrote a great story called The Ball and the Chest but didn't want it reproduced here. She was happy, however, to share this great exercise about an imaginary home.


Home by KelpieBlossom

I have a small home but everyone can get around. I have a small backyard - for my jumbo jet; a little pond - to fit my 300ft yacht; a teeny paddock at the back of my house - for my pony and 3000 of his closest friends.

I have a simple little bedroom to fit 900 of my toys. And a cinema. My bathroom is...o - kay... It only has a TV on the floor, a water feature, automatic toilets, golden walls and a lifetime supply of bubblebath.

The kitchen is only big enough to fit a giant. It has three fridges, two ovens, eight stoves, one tap, a pantry the size of my room and a cupboard - the size of a church.

Did I mention we have a robot that cleans our house everyday? My mum and dad's room is a dump. It only has a king-size bed, a carpet made out of golden silk, a wardrobe the size of a cinema and diamonds, sent from the Queen, hanging up.

Getting onto the playroom. It's messy, it's dumb and I want another one. It can only fit 6,000 of my toys, a huge golden couch, a home cinema and a silky carpet.

Isn't it so embarrassing to have a dump like this for a home?!


KelpieBlossom was so excited by this workshop and said "I would do one every weekend if I could".

At 5pm Padawan Learner and I crossed the Bridge to meet up with KelpieBlossom to go the Kids' Night Out. An event where the kids listen to popular children's authors and illustrators talk about their work. There are also the obligatory book purchasing and signing opportunities...

Image courtesy www.swf.org.au: Bernard Gallate getting suggestions from the audience for his latest book


We listened to Jackie French talk about her pet Wombat Mothballs; we heard Bruno Bouchet talk about how snot can be used as a weapon to fight aliens and helped Bernard Gallate write alternate endings for his next book.

As usual it was a great night out with our library weighing heavy with the new, signed, purchases (Diary of a Wombat, Tashi the Story of a Boy, Lab Rats in Space).


*for those who like to debate the positioning of apostrophes - this is the official placement of the SWF apostrophe.