Authors Electric

Happy New Year!  And now that Christmas is over, I’m going to try something.   Here are a few lines from some of the top famous poems of all time (according to Google):  1. Shall I compare you to a summer’s day?       You are lovelier and more temperate. ( Sonnet 18 , William Shakespeare)    Autumn foliage 2. Season of mists and yellow fruitfulness,      Close friend of the maturing sun. ( Ode to Autumn, John Keats)   3. I must go back to the seas again, to the lowly seas and the sky       And all I ask is a good ship, and a star to sail her by. ( Sea Fever , John Masefield)   4. I wandered lonely as a cloud      That sails on high over dales and hills ( Daffodils,  William Wordsworth)  Notice anything?   Lovers of literature will be foaming at the mouth long before they reach No 4 (judging by myself, naturally).  Because these lines are fu...

Recipes from My Garden This week author Nadja Maril released her collection of f lash prose, poetry, and essays inspired by her kitchen, garden, and family memories. I sat down with Nadja to ask her some questions about the book, and her process. It's interesting to note that Nadja comes from an artistic background: her late father Herman Maril was an artist, and his painting is the cover of her book. I have enjoyed Nadja's poetry and flash fiction for many years now, and I am very excited for her book! Dianne Pearce (Dianne): What inspired you to combine poetry, short form, gardening, and cooking in one book? How did these different forms of expression come together?   Nadja Maril (Nadja): In January 2020 I’d just completed an MFA (masters in fine arts) in creative writing from the low residency Stonecoast Writing Program at the University of Southern Maine and was in the midst of moving into a 100-year-old house. My husband Peter and I were the General Contractors. Both th...

 As writers we get inspired by all manner of things, an unfair incident we just need to write about to get it off our chest, a funny often self-deprecating story that is worth retelling to make our friends laugh or maybe a character we meet by chance and we decide to make up their backstory. Then there are the throw away lines, words uttered in conversation that ignite a spark and start our minds whirring. I’ve had two such instances this month that inspired some poetry. The first was “third row back with chocolate” you can read about that on my own blog here. The second was a conversation with friends I’ve known since sixth form. We were reminiscing about people we knew and one person wondered “whatever happened to Nigel?” We don’t know. As far as I’m aware he’s not on Facebook so how can we find out? Hiring a private investigator seems a little excessive. We can only ponder and take a guess and write a poem. But I admit I still never came up with a proper answer! ...

‘Do not grow old, no matter how long you live. Never cease to stand like curious children before the great mystery into which we were born.’ This quote was recently posted on Facebook and attributed to Albert Einstein, but such attributions tend to be random. I don’t know where it comes from, but I like it – especially now I’m so old in years I can hardly believe it. It chimes with a poem I’ve known for years but now can’t find, which, after a catalogue of sorrowful things, contains the lines ‘still let me live as love and life were one. Still let me turn on Earth a childlike gaze and trust the whispered charities that bring tidings of human comfort. Still let me raise on wintry wrecks an altar to the spring.’ I’m not even sure I’ve got it right, but I think the sentiment is clear, and like the Einstein(?) quote, it invites us to seek joy and trust and wonder. If that’s childlike, I’ll take it. It is much needed in these times. Being childlike rather than childish informed much o...

  I talk to myself in the shower in the mornings – in my head, you understand, out loud would be weird. It’s usually fairly mindless chatter, reminding myself what day it is, etc. but it will be coloured by whatever I’ve been reading during the EMC (early morning cuppa) before I get up. This morning it was in the voice of the Russian narrator of Life's Music, yesterday, suave Italian   Marco from The Hummingbird. If it was poetry, the internal monologue might be in iambic pentameters. It’s not a skill – I just can’t help it. It tends to wear off by the time I'm talking, which is probably just as well, but the mood invoked can last. A couple of blogs ago, I had a brief online conversation with Peter Leyland via the comments section. He mentioned his interest in bibliotherapy and kindly included a link to a paper he had written about it in the magazine   Aeon/Psyche. It contains a fascinating account of his exploration of the impact of reading on mood and wellbeing, wit...