Author: Sara Crowley

Lumb Bank

Sara Crowley4 Comments

In October I finally went on the Arvon course that I won as part of my Waterstones Bookseller Bursary. I meant to blog about it much sooner but as time has gone on I’ve realised that I really don’t know what to say. It was an extraordinary five days. I feel I was picked up from my usual life and set down in an alternate reality. There were workshops, readings, discussions, and plenty of opportunities to talk with tutors Patrick Neate and Mark Illis. There were communal meals and lots of chatter. There was incredible scenery and lots of weather. There were bizarre moments, and hilarious ones. The strangest thing was how little reading and writing I did. I had imagined hour after hour of quietly sitting alone and pondering. Nope. It was a far more sociable experience than expected, and better for that. There were a few vital key points that I took away with me that have revealed themselves to be pretty darn important. I’m sure what resonated for me isn’t necessarily what did for others and these things may seem obvious, but sometimes one needs exactly that. For the last year or so I have pretty much been a full time carer and my writing has had to wait. I wrote some flash fiction, maybe even a short story or two, but I left my novel untouched. It is too important to me, and I couldn’t give it the attention I feel it requires. I am no longer a full time carer and the how to write a novel course was hopefully going to help me find my way back to Salted. We all know the saying writers write and I was told I simply have to write 500 words a day. Easy, huh? 500 words is incredibly manageable, I can’t be scared by that. I was also told that until I have 30,000 words I’m not allowed to think about quality or start worrying about where it’s all going. I’m obedient, sometimes, so I have come home and every weekday I have written at least 500 words. Last night I dreamt I was writing my novel which I’m guessing means my novel writing has seeped into my subconscious. Oh yeah, I am doing this thing. 


Oh! And I got to visit Sylvia Plath’s grave. I am a massive Plath fan but would never have made a special visit to the cemetery, however, I was invited out for an afternoon stroll with two of my fellow Arvoners (waves virtually at lovely Paul and Lisa) and we found ourselves RIGHT THERE. I can’t quite grasp why people would leave plastic pens in a pot on her grave, I mean, I know she was a writer, but … 

So, pictures:



I look back affectionately, gratefully, on my time at Lumb Bank, and know that I will want to do more Arvon courses in the future. Thank you Waterstones and thank you to all the other writers for making it so memorable.

Ayiti by Roxane Gay

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Ayiti, published by Artistically Declined Press, is the debut story collection from Roxane Gay, each story concerning Haiti and its people.

The first story you arrive at announces itself with the block capitals of MOTHERFUCKERS. And wow can this small story carry a great weight. Wonderful opener.

In “Things I Know About Fairytales” the narrator says “At a dinner party once, with some of my colleagues and some of Michael’s and lots of wine and music and excellent food and pretentious but engaging conversation, talk turned to Haiti. Everyone leaned forwards in their seats, earnest in their desire to be genuine in their understanding of the world. One of my colleagues mentioned a magazine article he read about how Haiti had surpassed Colombia as the kidnapping capital of the world. Another colleague told us about a recent feature in a national magazine. Soon everyone was offering up their own desperate piece of information, conjuring a place that does not exist.”

I wonder if this is non-fiction as it reads so true, and I suppose I recognise that earnest desire to be genuine, and the failure of real understanding that so often accompanies it.

In “In the Manner of Water or Light” the narrator says “We are the keepers of secrets. We are secrets ourselves.”

Roxane Gay may well have secrets, but she is also a fearless truth teller. Her stories work beautifully in showing us truths without screaming them. Sometimes it is that which remains unsaid that resonates strongest. Her writing is beautifully empathetic, powerful, and often painful.

In “Cheap, Fast, Filling” she makes me sympathise, despise, and then care about her character in just 3 pages. Yeah, that skilled.

And she’s funny too (see “Voodoo Child” and the Primer in “There is No “E” in Zombi Which Means There Can Be No You or We” – in which she slides from amusing to disturbing ever so smoothly.)

She has an utterly distinctive voice of her own. There are many examples of her words online as she blogs, writes articles, and fictions (you can find her at I Have Become Accustomed To Rejection) and whatever she writes carries that assured, intelligent, calm, witty voice.

Two jolly good books

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I recently read a couple of damn fine books and made a mental note to blog about them. The problem with mental notes is that they end up muddled and mixed in with all sorts of gubbins from my mind so I am unable to offer much in the way of constructive thinking. Ho hum, no reason not to say that I really liked them is there?

The first book is Luke and Jon by Robert Williams. It’s now available in paperback for only £6.99 which is a bargain. It’s one of those books that was originally marketed as Young Adult and is now Adult Fiction. (It’s fairly meaningless but when I read it I certainly didn’t feel I was reading a children’s book, equally I thought that my 13 year old boys may enjoy it. Dylan has just begun it though he’s a little wary in case it’s too sad as I told him it was about a boy whose mum died.)
Anyway, the story is about a 13 year old boy and his relationships with his father, in the wake of his mother’s death, and his friend Jon. It’s not a showy book but it’s full of calm, quiet truths. I’m not over keen on the phrase deceptively simple but, erm, yeah, this is. Williams creates a wonderful voice and a story with proper depth. He’s good at capturing the difficulties of being a lad at school, and he’s written a novel with real heart. Oh, and it totally sucked me in and toyed with my emotions. Yes, I may have shed a tear or two. 
“Eventually I got surer on my feet and looked up to see what was overhead. It was a trick I learned from my mum. She said that every now and again, walking your usual route through town or to school, you should look up as you travelled instead of straight ahead, that you would see things you hadn’t seen before. And she was right. The first time I walked through our old town and lifted my head up I saw things I’d never noticed in a town I’d lived in all my life. In the forest the trees stretched high and higher into the sky, disappearing out of sight and there was only the odd glimpse of sky poking through the canopy. It felt like we were indoors; it reminded me of the church on the day of mum’s funeral: ancient and powerful.”
The second book is Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned by Wells Tower Oh my goodness, if you’re a short story fan and haven’t yet read this collection then I envy you, for you must, you shall, and it will be fabulous. 
Wells Tower describes things in a gorgeously fresh way. His stories are drenched in images and unique perfect phrases. I am deeply envious of his talent. (The worst story, oddly, is the title story. It’s absolute tosh and a real let down that is the last thing one reads. How strange.) 
“He scrambled along the spit of rock. The wind cut the stagnant dampness of the day and dried the sweat on his face and chest. He took the salt into his lungs and savored the pure itch in his chest. He touched the long grasses waving in the water like women’s hair. He crouched to observe the barnacles, their tiny feathery hands combing blindly for invisible prey.”
So, there ya go – two good books (coincidentally both with brownish covers.)

Then she said…

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A woman came into the bookshop a year or so ago. She spoke really fast.
“You got that book about Madeleine McCann? That one about Madeleine McCann? You know, the book about the little girl, Madeleine McCann?”
We told her that Madeleine by Kate McCann was due to be published in May 2011. She returned the following week.
“You got that book about Madeleine McCann?”
The woman continued to return intermittently, always repeating the same questions, always getting the same answer. Eventually the book was published. A few months passed until the customer came in and made her usual request. Triumphantly a bookseller fetched the book and placed it in the customer’s hands. She barely glanced at it.
“No, I don’t think that’s what I’m after.”

A self-published author asked if we had her book. I was pleased to say yes and take her over to the shelf where her book is a face out with a local author sign highlighting it. She was unhappy. She said she wanted her book in the window. I tried to explain that we have many, many books. I could not have been more patient. She flung an arm out and one of her nails left a long scratch on my arm.
“I am old,” she said. “You should put my book in your window. Now what are you going to do about it?”

A woman approached the counter with a book from our 3 for 2 offer.
“Have you got a copy of this book without a sticker on?”
“I can just take the sticker off?”
“I would like one without a sticker on.”
I peeled the sticker off.

Being proud

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Brighton is a unique place and I am so glad that I get to regularly go there and work in the coolest bookshop in the country. Pride took place yesterday and Waterstone’s had a rather eye-catching window display that I thought I’d share with you:

Missing from the pic are the gorgeous rainbow paper chains that are hanging above the display but I couldn’t fit them in. Anyway, the rain cleared away, the sun shone, the parade, erm, paraded, and all was good. 
You all know that I’m also proud of my short story section and I reckon it’s time for a new piccy:
See how pleasingly orange the top shelf is, look at how scrumptious Ten Stories About Smoking by Stuart Evers is. And yes, that is Lydia Davis finally available in paperback!

Cindytalk "Hold Everything Dear"

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Cindytalk’s new album – Hold Everything Dear – has been released. You can read reviews, and listen to sound clips here.  These are beautiful, shimmering musics – ripe with melancholy and strange other worldliness. Cindytalk is Gordon Sharp, and he has a long and wondrous musical history – (here is his wiki page and here is Cindytalk’s site). My dear, oh so missed friend, Matt Kinnison, contributed to these tracks in his final musical project and the album is dedicated to him, and to John Berger.

This is an album that’s beautiful to have, to hold, to hear. Big thanks to Cinder. It’s a truly special recording and I find myself entranced by the sounds of light smudged with dark, happy spliced with pain, and human hope. I think.

If you wish to purchase it yourself it is available here or at HMV for only £8.99.

The Canal by Lee Rourke

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I’m really late with this one but The Canal by Lee Rourke is a bloody fab read. I went to Bristol last weekend for the short story festival and met lots of writer chums. Inevitably the subject of books came up and I raved about this. At the bookshop we were asked to do a new bookseller recommendations bay and I said The Canal was my read of the year so far – I figured it was about time I mentioned it on my blog as well.

It surprised me. What I thought I knew about The Canal was that it’s a meditation on boredom, and I didn’t find that a wholly enticing prospect. I picked it up and put it down a few times before I settled to it. I always approach fiction hoping to love what I read but it rarely happens.

The Canal is good. Really good. It’s not a meditation on boredom at all, although of course boredom plays its part. This is a story that builds and builds and it’s a gripping, absorbing read. A man sits by a canal and thinks. His thoughts, thankfully, are interesting. A woman sits next to him. They talk. They meet regularly, the man becoming increasingly obsessive about seeing her, and the story unfolds.

Rourke uses repeated prose to great effect, giving the novel a “real life” feel and a firm sense of place. I marvelled at how he described the canal so beautifully, with many fresh images. He’s skilled at creating snapshots of London life, from a woman yelling at her dog, to a group of youths whose menace crackles off the page. His writing is damn fine, and to my delight it became a novel I didn’t want to put down.

Pulp event

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I will be reading short stories tomorrow night as part of a free Pulp Net event in Piccadilly. Details are here at Lane Ashfeldt’s blog, where she is also asking for “ideas for how Pulp Net might usefully regenerate in the future, from your point of view…”
I would love to see Pulp emerge stronger than ever. And don’t forget that its archives are home to many wonderful short stories which you can browse here. 


Creative writing sessions at Brighton Waterstones

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I promised a shout out for these new creative writing workshops that will be held at Waterstones, Brighton on the first Thursday of each month. (So, yeah, the first one is tomorrow!) I’m not personally involved but it sound fun, and hey, these sessions are free!


Waterstones Writing Workshops Present ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’
Join us for some creative writing fun to celebrate midsummer madness in all its forms. We’ll be using playful writing exercises to stimulate your imagination. Think too much Pimms – getting lost in the woods – strange transformations – sunburn – sunscreen – lovers’ tiffs and full moon parties.
Waterstones Writing Workshops are FREE creative writing sessions hosted by popular creative writing teacher – Wendy Ann Greenhalgh – AKA Story Scavenger. Join us on the 1st Thursday of every month 5.30 – 7pm in the Waterstones café for fun and inspiring creative writing games and exercises – all linked to a theme. We welcome writers whatever their level of experience – absolute beginners to Nobel Laureates!
Find out more about Wendy Ann Greenhalgh at http://www.storyscavenger.blogspot.com
Or if you have any questions you can email: storyscavenger@gmail.com

She Was Glitter and Shine at Beat the Dust

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Thanks to Melissa Mann of Beat the Dust for publishing my story “She Was Glitter and Shine” this month. There’s hardly any dialogue as the main character hides herself away and has little contact with the world, which is a tad tricky in fiction as it makes for clumps of reported prose. Anyway, it’s there if you fancy a read. As is the splendid “Fade to Black” by Jo Mortimer, and plenty more cracking words too.

Oh, and I had such fun choosing my dream 5 Glasto acts. I was going to be more classic and go for Janis Joplin, Faith no More, Elvis, Billy Bragg and Bunty Chunks but instead went for what I’d like to hear right now.