I had a great time at the Engage Arts Festival.
The Organisers made such an effort.
And so many things were free (important when you are bring kids along).
All the shops and business's on the main street got involved. Paintings
and sculptures in their windows displacing their own stock.
There was music most of which I missed (sob sob)
And the green village was a huge success again this year.
I went to see Catch the Moon - It was fantastic.
I have to say that again Fantastic!
Four women poets and a harpist in the Methodist Church.
The read pieces on love, exile, autumn and home.
They blew me away.
They are such talented women. (And all such attractive people - Wow how do
they do it?)
I especially loved every poem by Afric McGlinchy.
Tina Pisco's poem on exile had me laughing she has such a witty take on
Jane Clarke read a poem called 'Michael' about her friend. It was just
Kathy D'Arcy is so young and vibrant her poems seem to come from deep
Each woman is an award winning published poet.
Their words inspired me and made me want to be a better writer.
To be like them.
Taking my art seriously.
Also I want to tell you about Philip O'Ceallaigh. (I am a bit obsessed
He was doing a reading from his latest collection of short stories 'the
pleasant light of day'.
When he walked into the room (loose-limbed, athletic, comfortable in my own
skin kind of guy) I thought 'he's not half bad'.
If someone is going to read depressing black stories it helps if he is easy
on the eye.
Matthew Geden introduced him quoting a glowing review from Ann Enright.
Which must be true - after all she won the Booker so she must know what she
is talking about.
Then Philip introduced the piece he was going to read 'this is a story
about nothing really' and we all giggled
cause we thought he was messing about - being a bit self effacing.
'there is no sex or jokes in it' he says.
Ah funny guy we all snorted into our hankies
Er No. It really was about nothing- he was having a joke but not the one
It was like listening to a child reading out of his diary about an outing
with the scouts.
Detail after detail was given _ every time a new scene was described I was
hoping something would happen
But no. Nothing did. The main character progressed through his day and
into his night and not even his musings were very interesting.
My friend said later a woman could not have gotten published writing
something like that.
So that put me wondering about this man.
Was it because editors and agents had the same response as me 'he's not
half bad' that he could submit any old tosh and call it literature.
Or was it as my sister-in-law suggested 'its over your head, you just don't
Is it a case of the Emperors New Clothes?
Can somebody tell me please?