Yr Ymylon Music Video on YouTube

A music video of the song called Yr Ymylon by IWP singer-songwriter and novelist Fflur Dafydd, directed by Azeem Sajjad, is now ready for you to see. It's from her new album Byd Bach. International Writing Program participants feature in the background, and also as director, editor and camera operator.

Have a look, make a comment, and give it a rating.

See Yr Ymylon on YouTube here.

Pumpkins and Puppets

This is a week of movies and celebrations. Alice and I took a ride on the bus to Coral Ridge Mall to go to see the roller derby movie Whip It, featuring Ellen Page of Juno and Drew Barrymore.

We also went to check out Halloween vampire teeth and guillotines for our Halloween costumes. There's at least one party to go to next week, possibly two. I love this attitude towards celebration in the United States. Everyone has Halloween festive decorations making a statement in their gardens, and there are Fall colours in tubs of botanical grandeur on their porches and in their hallways, in corn doll sculptures and painted Victorian chairs. As a children's librarian who loves dress-ups and performing, this is something special. It must have sparked something else in me, because when I found myself burrowing in The Haunted Bookshop, I discovered lifelike folktale puppets of wolves, jackrabbits and deer, not to mention other species that I'm sure I'm destined to revisit over the next few weeks. I did ask if they had an opossum. They didn't, but they might be able to order one. I wonder if they'd confiscate it on my re-entry to New Zealand ....

Poisoning at the Cinematheque

Poisoning Paradise was screened at the Cinematheque last Wednesday - a documentary about the use of 1080 poison to control mammal pests such as possums in New Zealand's Clean Green 100% Pure landscapes. The documentary showed that as well as killing pests, it also kills a large proportion of some species of native birds, invertebrates and other animals, as well as posing health risks for people and risking contamination of meat products destined for export.

Milos (Croatia) said he was stunned by a government that is so shortsighted and suffering from 'induced hysteria' over the need for such extreme pest control measures. Others wondered out loud whether an entertaining style like Michael Moore's would be a better way of reaching a wide audience. And one student asked whether we could do anything to prevent the Alabama factory from exporting 85% of the poison to New Zealand.

The conversation was stimulating and it continued in front of a class of students on Friday morning. I guess it's refreshing because I've lived in New Zealand for so long and have heard the propaganda from the Department of Conservation for so long, that I haven't stepped back and seen what the policies look like from the outside.

The lecturer Natasa took the doco home for another look, fascinated by what she felt was indisputably persuasive content but in a form that felt like 'an angry shout' - a bit like the haka that features at the end. Later she said that it seems to her that the Department of Conservation has taken on the role of predator and feels the need to take complete control over the animal it has turned into some sort of evil demon. She printed out DoC's arguments for doing aerial 1080 poison drops, and was surprised to find that many of their arguments are circular in nature.

Their statements say things like the ERMA (Environmental Risk Management Authority) review said '1080 poison is safe to use, so we're going to use it' (even though the ERMA process has been seriously questioned, and ERMA receives funding from DoC). Spokespeople from DoC also say that if we don't use 1080, we will lose our endangered birds, including the 'kiwi', even though the kiwi is less endangered than others. This argument pushes all New Zealanders' fear buttons, because the kiwi is our identity, our icon, and so much of our history connects with it.

This hysteria seems misplaced. Research shows that our endangered birds are more likely to be killed by 1080 the way it is currently being applied, than they are by pests like possums.

For those who want to read more about the background to this documentary, look at the Poisoning Paradise information on The Graf Boys' blog and The Graf Boys' website.

Cane Toads and Underpants: A Pocket Guide to Writing for Boys

I gave a speech at my panel presentation on Friday. There were five of us talking about Teaching Writing, so I wrote the Dingbat's Guide to Writing a Boys' Bestseller (you know, in the same vein as the Dummies guides and Idiots guides for adults). None of the other panelists were children's writers so I thought it was a good niche to exploit. It also allowed for some humour, and little chance of me slipping into academic-speak. I rounded it off by reading out the beginning of Morris Gleitzman's Bumface, which demonstrated so many of the things I had included in my 'pocket guide.' Thank goodness everyone laughed in all the right places. It shows that New Zealand humour isn't completely unlike the rest of the world.

On the same day I read aloud from my own work at Shambaugh House - from my published work A Hairy Tale (Kiwi Bites series) and an excerpt from Sausage Sizzle (which isn't finished yet but can be read by following the link). I absolutely loved both the panel presentation and the reading. People are so supportive in the IWP and they enjoy hearing you share your work.

People like Osman from Sierra Leone (picture above) confirmed for me that my writing is funny and that I manage to capture the essence of children in my characters. That was hugely reassuring.

Deer Tick and Corndawg

Now this was a treat! I love this music. Even more amazing was that the IWP people were given free tickets to hear this music live at The Mill on the corner of Burlington anc Clinton on Friday 11 September. I'm going to have to buy some CDs, bring it home and torture you with it. Have a listen and a read below.

Deer Tick on myspace
Jonny Corndawg on myspace
Shame Train on myspace

Deer Tick with Jonny Corndawg, Shame Train:

When Deer Tick first played the Mill back in 2006 it was just young John McCauley on his lonesome, toting his acoustic guitar around the club, leaping from table to table serenading us with his heartfelt folk rock -- songs that pulled from the depths of a sharp and poetic heart. In between tunes, McCauley would tell jokes while pulling long drags from his tall glass of Makers. Now, three years later Deer Tick is a full-fledged band, a rock n' roll machine that spits out the spirit Hank Williams, the middle finger of Johnny Cash, and the charm of Mr. McCauley himself, a rare and remarkable songwriter who shines with a voice of his own. He ain't Dylan, he ain't Neil Young, he's his goddammed self. With rave reviews from the likes of Rolling Stone, SPIN Magazine, and even NBC's Brian Williams, Deer Tick is one of the best acts around. With Jonny Corndawg in tow, this is bound to be the country-rock shakedown of the year. So dust off your Makers. 9PM

It was everything that was promised.

Crab rangoon, square dancing and Slaughterhouse-Five

My Aussie friend Alice came to the market with me on the way home tonight and we ate crab rangoon and fresh raspberries in the grass picnic area, while listening to the band and watching people dance something that looks like a cross between slow ceroc and a square dance. Alice tells me there was a square dance on the uni campus at the weekend and she'll keep an eye out for another one - I love square dances. I went to one with my schoolfriend Dinah in Taupo when I was about 14. They had hay bales for seats, a fiddler and a caller - "Step to the right and do-si-do." It was a hell of a lot of fun, so Alice and I are going to go to the next one here. They're not exactly common in Auckland or Melbourne.

I'm reading a book by Kurt Vonnegut called Slaughterhouse-Five because Pam, my landlady, took me on the Summit District Heritage Walk, and showed me where Kurt Vonnegut lived here in Iowa City while on the Writer's Program. There are some great quotes so far in this book:

"And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep."

"It is so short and jumbled and jangled, Sam, because there is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre. Everybody is supposed to be dead, to never say anything or want anything ever again. Everything is supposed to be very quiet after a massacre, and it always is, except for the birds."

I'm sure even the birds are quiet.

On the back of the book it says it is one of the world's great anti-war books. Centering on the infamous firebombing of Dresden, Billy Pilgrim's odyssey through time reflects the mythic journey of our own fractured lives as we search for meaning in what we are afraid to know.

I find myself saying 'And so it goes' after talking about anything sad and significant. It's one of the repeated phrases that lingers with me after finishing the book.

Literature of Desire

The first IWP (International Writing Program) panel discussion called 'Literature of Desire' began at the Iowa City Public Library on Friday. This was one that I said I was prepared to be involved in but they chose five others so maybe they thought a children's writer would be less knowledgeable on the subject of sex and desire. They're probably right.

Millicent from Jamaica read out a Shakespearean sonnet:

Being your slave what should I do but tend
Upon the hours, and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend;
Nor services to do, till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world without end hour,
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour,
When you have bid your servant once adieu.

Isn't it beautiful?

And this one by Tony McNeil, which is called The Catherine Letter. She read it with pauses where there are spaces and the way it appears on the page has significance, so I hope it replicates okay here.

Strange
my writing to you
Can I say a cliche

Never thought I would see the day when you would cut me
glimpsed you in
should have said at
should have said near
a bank one day; smiled; waved; and you cut me

Catherine
name from the north
Well
there's a mystery to women of frost
the young men stride to the woods and snip them dark lilacs
a wren wheels in the distance
the sun shells east of the lake

Couples kiss in the field across the wild cherries
In the dream the woman is sitting under a cotton
a man kneels on the slope
the pair meet in the mist, stuttering prayers

Have you seen lilies tilt in the wind
Do banks stretch shadows on people so that when they see the familiar they turn away


It reached in and touched my soul when she read it. I used to read and write poetry. I stopped. But I think I'm going to start again. These people are doing me good. Stretching me, opening me up, making me feel things unexpectedly. So much about a person is revealed in their writing - or it can be.

I felt closer to Hanaa from Saudi Arabia after hearing her choked up voice as she read her short story about walking in the street, in her white jeans, hair loose and blowing in the breeze. What a tortured twist to find at the end that it is not real and never will be. It's a freedom I take for granted.

Two more people in the group do readings at the Prairie Lights Bookstore this afternoon - a Tamil Indian woman called Meena and a Lithuanian playwright and scriptwriter called Marius. I believe it's broadcast on radio. Did you know that in rural parts of India, they still lynch people who have relationships outside of their own caste?

The struggles we face are different by culture, by gender, by religion, and by individual. But we also have so much in common. The more I listen, the more I like these people who write from their hearts.

You're so exciting, little brown frog

Our first week was full-on. On our first day together all of the IWP participants went on an excursion through the rural outskirts of Iowa City to the Redbird Farms Wildlife Area, which featured prairie grasslands and woodland. This was where I spotted my first wildlife specimen - a little brown frog. Since then, I have seen rabbits, chipmunks and squirrels, but no bears or deer yet. Do you think I need to get out of the city more?

Our official orientation began with a welcome party and Mexican dinner at the home of IWP director Christopher Merrill, where we introduced ourselves in front of 300 people. What a night! These people seem to think we're superstars. It's really quite bizarre. There was a congressman there giving a speech, and a representative from the Iowan Dept of Foreign Relations. I was speaking quite casually with both of them before I knew who they were.

The foreign relations man, in a very Iowan checked shirt, chatted to me for quite a while and said he was looking for a writer who is politically motivated to speak at a function. I didn't click into gear straight away, but I went back to him later and told him I'm politically-motivated about the use of a deadly poison called 1080 which is manufactured in Alabama, that 85% of the world's production is being used in pest control operations in clean green 100% pure New Zealand, and that I'm prepared to talk about it (deep breath). I get the feeling it isn't quite what he had in mind, but we'll see what comes out of it.

I must have talked about it to a few more people than that because I'm now scheduled to introduce and show the documentary Poisoning Paradise at the Cinematheque in early October. The Cinematheque features a fabulous line-up of films and documentaries from around the world. It also showcases the work of some of the scriptwriters in the writing program - their short films, features and docos.

In love with Iowa

Well, I'm here. If you saw the new Star Trek movie, you may remember an early scene where young Jim is speeding down roads flanked by wide cornfields, being chased by a cop. Patchwork fields for miles to see, big red barns, grain and corn silos and water towers - that is rural Iowa and that's what I remember from flying in from Chicago.It was dusk and the light was gentle. Sawyer was waiting to pick me up at Cedar Rapids (yes, it does sound like the setting of a soap opera) and drive me through to my home for the next three months in Iowa City.

There is a fabulous mix of fun people on the International Writing Program - 35 in total, plus the teaching staff. Alice, from Melbourne is into young adult books too (Melbourne), Osman from Sierra Leone who has given me some fabulous advice about writing for teenagers, and Millicent from Jamaica who is in love with the Flight of the Conchords. I spoke a little with Maung from Myanmar because he is the editor of a children's magazine, and the first thing Dragica of Switzerland said to me was:
"You are Kathy, ja? My son vants me to take you home vith me."
"I'm sure I'm a bit old for your son," I said.
"He's 32," she said. "And he likes older voman."

I'm not in the Iowa House Hotel where most of the other people are being housed. I'm staying in the College Green House - a period house which was built in 1890, which is only a 20-minute walk to the International Writing Program at Shambaugh House.

I'm not disappointed with anything yet. I have the most amazing view of the College Green, and the walk into town (where the good cafes are) is going to be good for me. There's a cute little yoga joint right around the corner from where I live. Can you believe that? My landlady seems happy to show me around. She took me through the Summit District Heritage Walk and the Farmer's Market on my first weekend, where I bought caramel (pronouned carrrrr-mel) pecan rolls from an Amish man ... she even brought me a piece of homemade apple spice cake this evening. How good is that? And she took me to Kalona, which is an Amish community, complete with horses and carts, and bakeries with the most amazing fruit pies and yeasty buns. Have you spotted the recurring theme in this paragraph? I'm not going to starve here.

Check out this parody video called Amish Paradise by Weird Al.