written and posted by members of Lancashire Dead Good Poets' Society

Showing posts with label Room 101. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Room 101. Show all posts

Saturday, 15 October 2016

Seagullibility

What would your Saturday Blogger like to see put into Room 101?

I could write you a list that would be longer than my Bucket List or my Christmas List, but one item that would definitely be on there is Inspirational Texts.

Does anyone own up to remembering Jonathan Livingstone Seagull, a novella of self-improvement from the early 1970s by Richard Bach? I've never read it, but apparently millions of seagullible people did (mostly Americans, as it happens). It stuck around in the New York Times best-seller list for years and was made into a movie with voice-over by Richard Harris and a soundtrack by Neil Diamond. It was a fable about a seagull who wanted to find more in life than just scrabbling for food and set out on a quest to achieve self-perfection i.e. trying to be the best seagull that he could be. Yeah, okay.

I wouldn't want to put seagulls into Room 101, however. They are beautiful and resourceful creatures. Blackpool abounds in them and this week's short poem is in celebration of their iconic place in the town's skies (and promenade, squares, car-parks, roof-tops, gardens, rubbish bins....). Every home should have one.

Prototype DeLorean (and ex-Velociraptor)
It's A Beautiful Day
Blackpool blue,
nuanced hue,
seaside sunlight pinballed in ozone
to sparkling azure,
and flecked with a dazzle
of white-bellied gulls;
filled with the laughter of these locals
as they wing it, crazy avians,
elegant and joyful
on mid-morning thermals.
It's a beautiful day.

Thanks for reading. To have a good week, "Begin by knowing that you have already arrived." S ;-)

Tuesday, 21 February 2012

How I Feel About the "Novels" of Katie Price...


Jordan and her ghostwriter Rebecca Farnworth

This week’s theme, ‘literary fiction vs commercial fiction’, has the potential to be dangerous. It has the potential to evoke great mists of anger. And, contained within these mists are small glass orbs of sulphuric acid, suspended by nothing more than strings of self-restraint...

One word is capable of making me run for the scissors. One name makes me want to cut the strings, cause the fragile orbs to fall and allow the acid to burn massive holes through titles such as Angel,  Crystal and Sapphire. These are not the writings of a spiritual hippie on a path of enlightenment – if they were, I would probably hate them a little less – but rather they are (just a few of) the “novels” “by” Katie (aka Jordan) Price.

*The presence of scare quotes around both ‘novels’ and ‘by’ is deliberate and completely justified. I refuse to state, acknowledge or use the literal meaning of these two words when placed in the same context as said page three model for the following reasons:

1) A ‘novel’ is generally thought to mean: an invented prose narrative that is usually long and complex – and I don’t believe for one minute that Jordan is capable of writing anything longer or more complex than a shopping list. (Please make sure that all hate mail uses correct grammar and punctuation. Thank you.)

2) The preposition ‘by’ can be employed to indentify the agent performing the action, e.g. a novel  [written] by Tolstoy. Therefore, given that Jordan has a ghostwriter, I would argue that it is not correct to write: a novel written by Katie Price, given that she hasn’t actually engaged in the act of writing (her ghostwriter has).

 However, despite this fact, I will continue to allow her to be the object of my disdain...

...Because it’s difficult to make voodoo dolls of the unknown, spectre –like, Rebecca Farnworth.

...Because publishers accept a name before they accept a manuscript.

...Because our celebrity obsessed society insists on buying a name rather than a novel.

...Because we value fame over talent.

...Because bookshops merely roll over and indulge immature palates.

...Because I walked into Tesco in 2009*, and saw Sapphire “by” Katie Price placed at number one in the book charts – and despaired.

*It was also on this same night, in Tesco, that I decided to rewrite the charts. Removing all of Jordan’s “books” and replacing them with Ian McEwan’s On Chisel Beach (which was number fifteen in the charts).


For me, the literary verse commercial fiction battle will only ever result in one winner. Literary fiction is literature that has the ability to last – to be read, enjoyed and sought years, decades, even centuries after the author has died. I very much doubt that the “novels” of Jordan will survive the test of time, and if they do then maybe society really is doomed.


But for now, the “novels” “by” Katie Price will remain as a pet hate; they are that one thing that I really wish I could throw into the Room 101.


Thank you for reading,
Lar