Singapore Writer's Festival 2009

Singapore Literary Festival Events

Though I would have dearly loved to have got a book signed by Neil Gaiman at the Singapore Writer's Festival, I now feel reconciled to not having had a ticket to the event.

The other events I have had the chance to attend were not really ample recompense, but I guess I'm happy I got to attend them anyway.

One of them was a conversation on Historical Fiction with Manreet Sodhi Someshwar, the author of A Long Walk Home and Earning the Laundry Stripes, moderated by Sri Lankan author Elmo Jayawardena.

Other than the fact that the author has a charming presence, what really touched me was her absolute and at times poignant honesty. I was further interested because she was talking about events in my country that history has conveniently pushed under the carpets.

I have now a signed copy of her book, and am looking forward to curling up with it, and beginning the conversation that Manreet says begins between an author and a reader during the reading process.

Her personal story is also impressive because she is not a writer by training and freely admits that she "taught herself to write" over the course of the years.

I also attended a conversation with Kiran Khalap, a brand consultant who is a spiritualist.

He would be a great person at a table, and an interesting person to talk to, but unfortunately, the audience had come expecting a workshop on "Creating Credible Characters." Expectations remained largely unfulfilled. Why could they have not called it a Meet the Author session?

Shashi Warrier the next day at least talked about Plotting and more or less stuck to the agenda. There were the usual puerile questions from the audience about "Plot-driven" and "Character-driven" stories, about how to write a story when the author has no imagination, and so on. But the session was generally entertaining, mostly due to the absolute self-effacement of the author.

Warrier declared his first story, written as a computer professional, was a fairy tale, which got a lucky break. Not sure if personally knowing David Davidar helped, but I didn't care. I bought his book "A Hangman's Journal" , read a few pages then and there, and in a rather uncharacteristic move, got him to sign it as he was rushing for one of the sessions. I'm really saving that book for a session when I can finish it at a go, or at least read uninterrupted for a while.

The panel discussion on Migration and Displacement moderated by Meira Chand, in which Rajat Das, Manreet Sodhi Someshwar, and Neel Choudhury took part, was not particularly insightful, other than some penetrating questions asked by the audience.Rajat Das kept reading from his book, which did not in any way clear his points, Manreet said that the relative quiet of being in a country other than India had given her the space to write, and Neel felt that the world was totally globalized anyway so the theme of displacement in diaspora writing was mostly irrelevant. A discussion not really worthwhile, in short.

All this left me wondering if I'd really missed the important bits of the Singapore Writer's Festival, as I attended it mainly because I happened to be in the country at the time.

The last session I went to, for which quite a few people braved torrential rains, was a session by Alvin Pang and Su-chen Christine Lim. I've been a fan of Su-chen Christine Lim for some time, and loved her talk, her comparison of writers with Bonsai, which meant that a lot of time and effort went into the grooming of a writer. I took a video of part of her talk, wish I'd had the presence of mind to start recording it from the beginning.

They talked about a writer's residency they had conducted at Pulau Ubin, something in the lines of the renowned Arvon retreats in the United Kingdom, where those who love writing, both established writers and beginners mix together in a group. They stay isolated for a week, attending daily workshops with two tutors, with whom they also have individual sessions. The whole thing costs 500 pounds, and I'm wondering if I should not actually think of participating the next time they have a session.


All in all, though I did not come away from the Singapore Writer's Festival 2009 with a lot of new information or inspiration, at the very least I was entertained, had a few laughs, made new friends, and in the end got to hear Su-chen Christine Lim talk.

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An Evening with Dacia Maraini

Dacia Maraini is a stalwart Italian writer, and I was indeed fortunate to be able to get to know her better yesterday evening. This blog is an on-again-off-again affair, and I would have probably not posted today either other than the fact that something Maraini said stuck in my head.

"Words pain a writer," she said, "a writer, fights with words, fights against words, fights for words."

Powerful stuff, that.

The evening was part of the week of Italian language the world over, and there was also a lot of conversation about how English words are entering the Italian language. Whether they are contaminating Italian, or if they are a natural step in the evolution of the language was a matter of debate.

To me, the answers are very clear. Being an Indian, I write in English, but that that does not make me less Indian. English is just another language, just like the three others I speak, and that is that. But this attitude might be the result of India's colonial occupation. The Italians are newly exposed to English in this increasingly globalized world, and it will take them time to see it as just another language, and not a threat.

I wanted to say all this but desisted.

Here was an 83-year old, who had survived a concentration camp as a six year old. She fairly lit up the convention hall with her beauty and energy, and all I wanted to do was just soak it all up and be silent.

I have to look up her books and start reading.

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Meme : Save Yvonne's Sight

Hate blog memes, but when Sharon tagged me for this one, it was a more than welcome opportunity to write about Yvonne Foong.

I met her at Seksan’s readings, and like most others, at first I only saw a pretty, diminutive girl. It was only when I heard her speak, and realized that the only way to communicate efficiently with her was by scribbling huge letters on a small slate, did I appreciate the life and sheer grit of this fine young lady.

When I wrote on her slate, “You are very brave, and an inspiration”, she wrote back, “We are all full of courage, we only have to find it.”

This, from someone who almost lost her smile, has lost her hearing and now faces losing her sight, too. Read more about her here, and hear her speak on video.

She is scheduled for an operation between 1 and 4 December 2009. But of course she has to raise the funds by herself. The cost of surgery is USD44,000 or RM154,770, and the cost of staying in hospital for two weeks is USD915 or RM3219.

She has raised about RM10,000 of this and is hoping to raise the rest by republishing her book I'm Not Sick; I'm Just a Bit Unwell in English and Chinese. The books are now available in Malaysian bookshops and from her web site store. She is also selling T-shirts at bazaars and via her web site store. You can read about her surgery and donate to her fund here.

Yvonne has stayed strong despite her physical condition, maintaining her website, her blog, and her store, as well as showing up at fundraising gigs with the help of a few dedicated friends. She says this about why she needs funds:

Why I need to raise funds

NF tumors and the problems they cause require expert medical care. Unfortunately, I am uninsured while the Malaysian government lack the expertise and technology required to care for people with this genetic disorder. My father is unfit to work after a brain hemorrhage more than ten years ago. My mother’s job is just enough to get us by So I need to organize fundraising campaigns to pay for my own healthcare locally and abroad. Inexperienced surgeons and poor treatments can leave me in a very bad shape. Already, my mother has to take care of dad and the household. I cannot add more burden to the family.

You can also help by sending on this meme. If you do, please follow these meme rules:

1. Create a blog entry titled "Meme: Save Yvonne's Sight"
2. List three things you love to see. Add in the picture of Yvonne's book cover. The URL is http://www.yvonnefoong.com/images/banner/my-story.jpg
3. End with the line, "Yvonne Foong is in danger of losing her eyesight thanks to neurofibromatosis (NF). Please find out how you can help her by visiting her blog at http://www.yvonnefoong.com."
4. Tag 5 blog friends. Be sure to copy the rules, please :)

Three things I love to see :

1. My family
2. All of nature
3. Books, writing

The people I'm tagging are a few awesome and warm-hearted blogging friends (but I do think I have more than a few, so I’m breaking the rules by tagging 8):

Anniegirl

Aneeta

Darcnyt

Indigo

Katie Smith

Kym

Lofter

Paytonlinkletter

I really wanted to tag more, but did not want to be a total nuisance. But if you read this post, and Yvonne happens to inspire you as she has a lot of people, feel free to carry forward this meme.

Yvonne Foong is in danger of losing her eyesight thanks to neurofibromatosis (NF2). Please find out how you can help her by visiting her blog at http://www.yvonnefoong.com.

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Writing about writing daily

I have harped upon the importance of daily writing ad nauseam.

While I do not think I was wrong about the worth of daily writing in building up the writing muscles, I think I would now like to modify my approach a bit.

I'm not sure about others, but for me, writing is not a repeat of the same experience everyday.

Some days, I'm on fire, my pen cannot keep up with my thoughts, and eating, sleeping, cooking, living seem like unnecessary annoyances. The only thing that matters is writing. I live for those days, I think sometimes.

On other days, I can write a bit, maybe a few minutes, an hour. After which, I can't really concentrate. But I'm happy enough, at least I got something done.

And then there are the days I hate, when nothing I can do would wring a word out of me, and the words that do come out are dead, they cannot dance to my tune.

I have realized that this is normal for me, and that if I decide to whip myself into production everyday, then all of my days become dry, my writing limp, devoid of meaning and vitality.

No point, I've decided.

It is ok to let go of entire days, even a week without writing if I have nothing to say, or if I'm making up my mind about something. Those are the times to read, edit, and go about life. To jot down a line or two if something strikes me. To gather myself to write, to be able to write like an animal.

And I would write perhaps five minutes, or ten in those days, not more. If that.

Yes, I will make an effort to mark my presence on the page every day, but I will not be angry with myself for not writing a word. Writing need not be a frightening, demanding chore. I refuse to take the pleasure out of it.

And I've noticed I'm still getting writing done. I do write something everyday, a blog, an email, an article, so not as if I'm totally away from writing anything at all. And the fiction pages are adding up, all without forcing myself.

I think I can live with occasional bursts of creativity, and then a few days of relatively less output, without berating myself about it. I'm making my writing a safe experience, a meditation and a constant source of joy, without letting too much negativity creep in.

I can only get better with this, a better writer, a better person, and who knows, one day even the author of a book or two.

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Writing about familiar books

An interesting article that discusses Peter Pan. Makes me want to go dig up the original, and read it with new, adult eyes.

There are so many books to read and so little tie to do it in, that the idea of revisiting childhood reads seems almost a luxury.

But I do pick up books I read long years ago in hopes of reading them again and discovering a new shade of meaning, especially since I was a terribly precocious reader as a child.

How about you? Do you ever feel like reading again the books you read as a child?

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