The first thing I did yesterday was buy a pair of shoes. This is obviously an insane thing to do. Firstly I hate packing shoes. Secondly they’re a rather spectacular pair of heals and I don’t really wear heals. See what you’re doing to me Tina? I would, however, recommend a trip to the shoe shop in question. My pair were $10. TEN BUCKS. Reduced from a hundred. I think that was the main motavation. Look for the shop in Hunter St mall with all the sale signs.
Where do I begin with yesterday. There was just so much awesome. The first thing I saw (shoes in hand) was Fail, Fail Again, Fail Harder- a highlight of the festival thus far. The panellists had all worked on shows which I either loved or was fascinated by. It was let slip at one point that Hungry Beast are coming back for a third series. Their producer was on the panel and he was a little bit cagy when Marieke Hardy bought it up. It may just be a NYWF exclusive. It was defiantly the best news I had all day.
Without departing from the rather charming Elderly Citizens Club, Token Effnik continued both the television theme and amazing-ness. The panel’s take on the portrayal of ethic people on television was insightful. I suppose I’ve only ever really thought about it as a viewer and even then only in passing. The panel had considered and educated views with the power of experience but didn’t feel the need to mount a high horse.
Via some rather tasty but cold in the middle spring rolls, Erin and I headed to I’m a Writer but Nothing’s Ever Happened to Me, hosted by the lovely people from Voiceworks. The turn out was big and a lot of us ended up sitting on the floor outside the parameters of the chair circle. The “panel” became more of a roundtable discussion about writing in general, about what you can and cannot do and why there really shouldn’t be a “can’t” category. It made me think about my own writing. The question of whether or not you can write about things you are unfamiliar with, from the point of view of a different age or gender. I’ve just always written the characters that arrive in my head. If they happen to be a 40 something male Librarian I go with it.
Segwaying beautifully from this session was the Voiceworks workshop Breaking the Rules. Its always nice to do a bit of actual writing at something like this. You spent so much time thinking and talking and, in some cases, writing about writing that you don’t have time to sit down and get stuck in. The exercises the EdCom served up were, frankly, inspired. Lots of writing workshops dish out the same old thing. Not so here. Writing descriptions of place, every couple of minutes a vowel would be confiscated and we had to continue writing without using words that contained it. The other really fun one was describing an object without adjectives. The classic exercise is writing and THEN crossing out all the adjectives, I think working the other way was more effective.
Lit Journal Survivor was an ingenious. I loved it because it couldn’t happen anywhere else. Only here could you watch members of literary magazine physically battling it out for a totally irrelevant prize. It may very well have been your ONLY opportunity to see such a spectacle. During the three legged race there was a pile up which resulted in the member for Voiceworks going through a glass window. The whole room fully expected this to be the bloody end but luckily no one (except the window) was hurt. Certainly it was one of the night’s talking points.
Speaking of the night we come to the American Gothic Ball. The main issue I think was the theme. No one really knew how to interpret it and so many people simply didn’t. What I loved about the Gatsby Ball last year was the enthusiasm with which everyone embraced the theme, right down to period dancing. That didn’t really happen here, in fact the dancing was minimal. But there were great people and conversations to be had.
These chats are certainly a highlight. Last night I discussed the influence Harry Potter had on our childhoods, cults, the reattachment of teeth after having them knocked out, what the sexiest accent is and, more than once, Grafton Primary. I think if Grafton Primary are going to put Grafton on the map in the world of alternate culture they should be making an effort to help people locate it geographically.
I had some amazing chips on the walk home with Tim. They were seriously spectacular. Funnily enough I bought them at the place which sold me verbal warning water on day one. Its on Hunter Street, there’s a large hamburger on the window. Go buy some, especially if its currently 1am. Although why the hell you’re reading a blog at 1am while walkin down Hunter St.
Daylight savings is, I think, designed specifically to inconvenience me. Despite making an attempt at earlier bed, I wound my watch the a time very similar to the day before. Damn them. Damn them all.