Authors Electric

I’ve dealt with Spectator competitions before, but last week husband Bob and I managed the double – after two years of trying. So in celebration of this momentous event, I shall post both the winning entries and ask you to guess who wrote which. We’ve tried this out at various groups we go to, and only one got them right. Indeed, the members of the creative writing group we both attend got them all wrong. So I’ll include a couple of other winners I’ve had recently, with the challenges, and see if you want to have a go at them yourselves. I had quite a few winners initially, and then it was eight months until I had another. I once had a friend who wrote songs, as well as poetry, and she tried several times to get one selected for the UK Eurovision entry, and did get shortlisted. But the one piece of advice she received I have always remembered: Try and get the word radio into your lyrics somehow. This often ensures it gets played. So on the same principle, I included the word Spectator ...

Who doesn’t love a good brawl between writers…from the safety of the stands? Though the bad boy glory days are gone in our cancel ’em corporate culture, not long ago bad press and scandal were generally tickets to ride.              Ernest Hemingway knocked the stuffing out of the twenty-years-older Wallace Stevens and went on to boast about it. He hit Max Eastman on the head with a heavy tome after  Max claimed in a review that Hem wore glued-on chest hair. And he got good press, though he lost, from his boxing match with Morley Callahan.             Norman Mailer, Hem’s disciple, headbutted Gore Vidal in a TV interview. Norm went on to stab his wife and pound for fifteen minutes on Thomas Pynchon’s door, enraged by a bad review–only to learn that Pynchon had fled down the back fire escape.             Hunter...

There are fantasy novels built on spectacle, and then there are fantasy novels built on emotional truth. Shattered Energy: A Memory in Time by Athena Plencner manages to deliver both. At its center is Ariyana, a woman whose terrifying dreams begin to unravel the reality she thought she knew, forcing her to confront loss, identity, and the dangerous truths buried inside her own memory. As we celebrate Mother’s Day here in the United States, it feels especially fitting to talk about a novel whose heroine remains, through all the chaos and revelations surrounding her, a fiercely loving and deeply protective mother. Even while facing impossible choices, Ariyana’s concern for her children never leaves the emotional center of the story. I spoke with Athena Plencner about memory, dragons, fear, vulnerability, and building worlds that feel both epic and deeply human. Dianne Pearce: The idea that Ariyana’s dreams are actually memories is so compelling. What sparked that concept for you? Ariyan...

  Margery Allingham was a May baby, born into this gorgeous month of fresh grass and leaves, when the air is scented by honeysuckle or wild garlic; peonies, giant poppies and alliums are bursting balls of colour; the annual miracles of lilac and wisteria cascade in elegant fragrancies. As a lonely child, moving from suburban London to Layer Breton, Essex, she learned to love the unkempt garden of a decaying country rectory for its wildness and sense of possibility.  As a successful adult, living in Essex once again, she and her husband gave parties in their garden, employed a full-time gardener and exhibited prize roses in the local horticultural shows. That was never the heart of its meaning. Margery’s garden remained a sanctuary, a place where she could achieve ‘ a momentary clarity of mind, which will give me a definite lead at least to the next step in whatever I may be about .’ (Oaken Heart p115). When she experienced breakdown in mid-April 1955 she was seen wandering t...

The last year or so has seen me coaxing more life out of my (admittedly rather old) laptops, to keep them running just that bit longer. As an engineer by trade, I quite enjoy poking around in hardware and software to see what I can tinker with to extend the working life of a piece of kit. There are a couple of reasons behind this, and why I don’t simply buy a new laptop. Cost is one with choice and sustainability behind the other, although for me the two are somewhat linked. Most obvious for me is cost – I can’t see the point in splashing out hundreds for a slighty newer version of something I already have. I don’t need anything too fancy – just some web browsing, office suite, and audio tools to rip CDs and play audio files. No need for high-end video as I’m not into movies or games. Problem is, the current craze for AI has driven the cost of IT kit through the roof. To add insult to injury, I’d also be paying the Microsoft tax to immediately wipe Windows off and install Linux. You...

Buttons and fasteners. Connections. Things that hold things together. Or just an embellishment?  My daughter bought me a long fluffy cardigan for Christmas a couple of years ago. She’s very tuned into my dress style and knows what I like. It’s one of those cardis that thinks it might be a jacket, or even a dressing gown in the right circumstances and at this time of year, it’s rarely far from me. But it needed buttons. Not that I like to button it up fully, but it can get annoying when it constantly slips off your shoulders.  No belt and no buttonholes. And it was machine-knitted. Handy as I am with a sewing machine, I’m not competent enough to make holes in a knit without the whole thing unravelling. So I bought some fasteners I could sew on to both sides and now it’s perfect!  Fast forward a year or so and I’m mooching around one of my favourite charity shops while killing time in town. And I find the most gorgeous deep red velour winter coat. In a charity shop but bran...