"She lives the poetry she cannot write" – Wilde
A busy working week, this one – but with much creativity in it. I made cakes for friends and poems for the National Trust; Steve Tasane wrote a heart-shaped poem, and friend Graham got a knitted breast from chum Hayley. At the local origami factory, obsessive paper-folder Howard created a rustling menagerie.
I love a city with a big river in it. On Tuesday I was in Bristol, for the Lit Up conference. This was the last in a series of live literature conferences, mixing useful content with showcase performances. Amongst these were Pen-Ultimate doing their show A Night on the Tiles (gangsters, murder, Scrabble) and Charlie Jordan, who delivered a stonking set with great poise and confidence (Buddhism, ice cream, sex). One of her props was particularly inspiring.
Friday took me to another city with a big river in it, for a library networking event in Liverpool. Librarians don’t usually see themselves as event managers, but libraries are a vital (and natural) forum for presenting new literature to an interested audience. We writers can also bring in the book-borrowing public, to rediscover local libraries. It was a good exchange to be part of.