Authors Electric

I wanted to be a writer from the age of four, as soon as I realised that there was such a profession. And all through junior school I seemed to be on track; my headmaster put me in for every children’s writing competition there was, and I won a variety of delightful prizes provided by various companies such as a crate of creamed rice pudding for a story about a cow. Senior school was different, though. Although nearly all my teachers were excellent, the one who had a real down on me was my English teacher. I  would try to do experimental things in my stories, and I remember one in particular which came back with a red line through the whole thing, an F as the lowest mark she could possibly give, and the comment “You can’t do this”. I’d written a story about an escaped tiger, and was trying to build up the tension by switching scenes at crucial moments. Unfortunately this was the person who had the power to decide whether or not I took A level English. She took one look at me ...

It’s easy to forget how storytelling in our own culture tends to obey particular sets of rules, which we take for granted. There’s usually a cause and effect story arc, and on the whole good triumphs over evil. Characters are explained for the benefit of those in the audience/readership who may not have the same background, and you’re left with a sense of completion, which is the culmination of a plot with a beginning, a middle and a conventional ending. That’s not the way it is everywhere, though!             I’ve recently returned from a holiday in Indonesia, part of which was spent on Bali. We were told we were going to see some traditional dancing, but this turned out to be a sort of play with an authentic gamelan band. Sadly, the Balinese youth of today are more interested in rock music, and it’s reckoned that this event will die out in five years as the performers become too elderly to continue. I reproduce below the han...