Tag: Reading

Devizes Arts Festival Reviews: Steve Tuffin’s Have-A-Go Workshop on Memoir-Writing, Anthony Horowitz – “A Life In Murder”, and Becky Grey’s “How I Became A Ghost Writer”

It’s All In The Writing

Andy Fawthrop

The Devizes Arts Festival is now in its 40th year and, as ever, seems to be in robust health.  Marking the anniversary with 30 wide-ranging events across two weeks in several venues in and around the town, here’s yet another example of D-Town continuing to punch well above its weight in the area of the Arts…..

Whilst there are lots of big, headlining events (see link below to DAF’s website), there’s lots of other more intimate, and interactive, things going on too.  Because it’s not just big bricks you need to build a wall, it’s the quality of the mortar to bond those bricks into something really solid.  The theme, if there is one, of many of these smaller events is about getting involved or “have a go”.  Well Devizine, as you lovely people well know, is always up for a bit of a challenge, so I thought I’d pitch in to three literary-type events this week.  Being no stranger to the publishing world myself, I decided that, apart from listening to one of the UK’s most prolific fiction and screen writers, I’d cast an eye over two things I’ve previously had a go at myself – memoir-writing, and ghost-writing. What could possibly go wrong?  You never know – I might actually learn something.

First up on Monday was Bath Spa’s Steve Tuffin, who led a very practical class on how to go about writing a personal memoir, or indeed how to approach any form of creative writing.  Surrounded by some wonderful sepia-tinted historical photos on the walls of the Cheese Hall (plenty of subject-matter there), Steve led an engaging session. In what could have been a dry, dusty and boring subject (rather like my good self), Steve presented a very lively, interesting and, yes, absorbing couple of hours.  Apart from some great tips, techniques and tools, there was plenty of good discussion and three different short practical writing exercises.

One of the interesting debates, especially in the light of modern politics and celebrity “voices”, concerned the cross-shading between factual/ absolute “truth” and the personal/ relative viewpoint of “my truth”.  The stories weaved by Trump and his cohorts, Raynor Winn’s “The Salt Path” and the Harry/ Meghan psycho-drama, are all evidence enough that “memoir” and “memory” can often be poles apart, thus melding the different worlds of fact and fiction.

Steve cantered through a number of techniques (starting small, finding your voice, controlling the speed, being brave, reading out loud, finding a way in etc), but the key lesson that came out time and time again was the need to “postpone perfection”: get what you want to say down on the page as quickly as possible, then re-draft (many times), edit, and polish. Clearly a technique that we at Devizine have already (ahem) been practising for many years!

Later on Monday evening, the venue switched to much larger Corn Exchange, where a lively audience of about three hundred turned out on a rainy night to hear Becky Grey interview the prolific and versatile author and screen-writer Anthony Horowitz.  Responsible for writing scripts for Midsomer Murders, Foyle’s War, as well as the Alex Rider teen spy series, two modern Sherlock Holmes novels and three James Bond continuation novels, Horowitz is no stranger to hard work and all the tricks and tools of fiction writing. 

Becky didn’t have to work too hard to get the man talking: Horowitz proved to be a loquacious and captivating raconteur. He had plenty of anecdotes and examples to give, peppering his replies with humour and witty asides. Having known he wanted to be an author since the age of ten, discovering that he had both the right skills and a vivid imagination, he was soon set upon the career which has now made him famous. Declaring himself a great fan of Agatha Christie and her skill at plotting, by planting the clues to the “solution” but without giving away the answer before the very last twist, and deliberately laying false trails, Horowitz showed himself to be entirely engaged in, and engrossed by, the techniques of the popular fiction-writer.

His line on the use of AI was that it was a useful, but a clearly limited tool, to be employed with care and discretion, and to understand its limits.  He said that he used AI simply as a research assistant, a search engine to fill in the gaps, simply to save time on researching factual background information, but never to do any actual “writing” that could end up in any of his books or scripts.

And that knotty subject that had emerged during the earlier session in the afternoon, the frequent non-alignment between “my truth” and factual reality, came up again for some more analysis.  The Trumpian world-view, together with a brief commentary of the recent Sturgeon/ Murrell embezzlement fandango were subjected to some light-hearted, but laser-sharp, critique.

Horowitz revealed that he had no set daily “routine” for his writing, that he was useless at reading his own work (for audiobooks), that “cosy crime” was a misnomer (because murder is too horrible to ever be cosy), that he can’t write poetry or romance (his wife had told him that he could never write about a subject that he had no experience of), and that over his career he had systematically killed off every single character who had ever been nasty to him (well, their fictional personas at least!).

After the 45-minute session, Becky opened the floor to audience Q&A for twenty minutes, after which there was plenty of action out front at the book-signing session.  Overall, a very entertaining and engaging evening from an author at the top of his game.

Finally (on Tuesday afternoon), to complete the final layer of this sandwich of literary delights, I turned to BBC Sport’s Becky Grey herself.  In an event sponsored by Wadworth, and held in the wonderfully historic surroundings of Devizes Museum, she spoke about how she had started her career in ghost-writing books and newspaper columns for celebrity sports stars. And the answer was – almost by accident. She zig-zagged her way towards it until, like Anthony Horowitz the previous evening, she suddenly discovered that she had a flair for writing, and that her subject-matter (sports and sports-people) was totally engaging. She seems to have never looked back.

Becky talked of the various sports personalities she’d worked with, and took us through the steps and techniques for tackling that kind of work.  Interestingly she hit many of the same themes and techniques that Steve Tuffin had mentioned the previous day (including just getting the first draft down on paper, refining and editing, picking out the real story etc).  In answer to questions, she also talked about handling the tricky “factual truth” versus “my truth” debate (by challenging, and with a lot of tact!), payment models, red lines, and copyright. 

And finally – yes you’ve guessed it – there was a short exercise, another chance to “have a go”.  And, of course, a book-signing. Another engaging and interesting session.

So there you have it – three events over two days, vastly different in some ways, but nicely inter-connected in others.  And did I learn anything?  Ah – that would be telling!

Anyways, onwards and upwards, with still plenty of great stuff to come over the next ten days, both ticketed and free.  The Devizes Arts Festival continues until the night of Sunday 14th June at various venues around the town.  Tickets can be booked at Devizes Books or online at www.devizesartsfestival.org.uk

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Local Author’s Book Reveals Why Devizine Isn’t Funny Anymore

Devizine can reveal how a new book by a local author might possibly be the reason why Devizine isn’t as funny as it used to be….

Devizine, it used to be funny, but sadly it seems it’s not so much anymore. Who took the banana skin from under its flip-flop? Who failed to give it a raspberry on the bouncy belly? Editor and creator of Devizine, Darren Worrow might have discovered why.

He said, “It’s a disgrace. This so-called author Darren Worrow has channelled all his pathetic attempts at humour into his new book Murder at the Scribbling Horse, and hardly bothered sharing anything the slightest bit amusing here on Devizine, as he once did; typical liberties from a loony leftie! And now he expects me to blow my own trumpet and sing his praises; what a pretentious twat! Shamelessly plugging his own book on his own website is surely proof.”

“Set in the fictional Wiltshire market town of Slapam-on-the-Fye, which is nothing like any real Wiltshire market town you might know of, it claims to be a murder-mystery, but the only true thing it murders is English literature.”

“Neither is there any subtlety in it either, like there is with Devizine,” Worrow waffled on sorrowfully wallowing. “Worrow takes no prisoners, has gone all out and created an absolute work of filth; an offensive joke book with a sham narrative, just so he can say disgusting things about various celebrities, politicians and anyone else he doesn’t like, despite the good honest work they’re doing to keep Britain free from logic and empathy.”

“With the mouth of a sailor, it downright disregards any level of intelligence locals might possess, and paints them all as so utterly idiotic the narration of the story has to be conveyed through the point of view of the pub dog; I don’t think that’s funny at all. The dog is a depressing nihilist, who uses the opportunity to put the human world to rights, rather than getting on with telling the story, that’s why it stacks up over 500 pages. 500 plus pages of meandering woke filth, I might add.”

“Using a facade of a murder mystery, in which the frontman to a tribute act is murdered in the pub whilst they organise a fundraising music festival, as the plot thickens like moulded yogurt around his genitalia, it goes as far as disgracefully making a mockery out of petty local politics too. It’s the biggest crime against pop since David Bowie and Mick Jagger’s cover of Dancing in the Street. I’d rather lick that yogurt off than buy this book, but that’s probably what this sick perverted tyrant wants us to do.”

“You’re not going to enjoy reading it, as tea can scold you if dropped in your lap through laughing too much. Therefore I call upon Steer Karma and the government to ban this book for health and safety reasons.”

“This thing wouldn’t have been published under Farage, you know? And thousands of flagpoles will now have to be erected to counteract the unpatriotic damage done, at the taxpayer’s expense too.”

The author of the book, Darren Worrow, rebukes comments made by the Devizine editor, Darren Worrow. “That guy is as thick as a Boxing Day turd and pissing into the wind,” he said. “Other than the fact I have released a new book, the rest is slanderous lies and Devizine will be hearing from my lawyers. Murder at the Scribbling Horse is a fascinating psychological study and critique of the modern world, questioning our nonacceptance of aging and the social and political issues it raises; with added knob jokes.”

The author became irate, claiming, “for eight long years I’ve been tirelessly promoting everyone else for peanuts. I’ve not even had the opportunity of taking a bath since, and I look like a Yeti past its sell by date. It’s about time I thought about myself for a change, and everyone can bloody well return the favour by buying my book!”

Eighties post-punk sensations Johnny Bunion and the Verrucas’ most successful album, The Legend of Castle Grey Scholl, 1981.

Whatever happened to Johnny Bunion? His legend burnt out long before his candle ever did.

But the more pressing question must be, was it connected to the murder at the Scribbling Horse public house in the narrow-minded Wiltshire market town of Slapam-on-the-Fye, some forty plus years later? And if so, how?

To answer this you’ll need to research, and my book, Murder at the Scribbling Horse will be the only way to do that.

If there’s ever any proceeds from the book, they will go to a much needed new Lynx Africa deodorant set, and a Brazilian back, sack and crack wax for the obnoxious author; the twat needs it, he looks like Posie from the Flumps’ rustic vajazzle.

Seriously though, being funny is the only thing I’m serious about. If you laughed at any part of this internal press release you’re a bit weird, and the ideal target audience for my book! You’re going to laugh a kazillion times (that’s a zillion zillions) more with a copy Murder at the Scribbling Horse in your grubby mitts. And even if you’ve no sense of humour, you know a good Christmas present idea when you see one!

You can buy the paperback online here. And the e-book here. It’s out for global distribution but buying direct from Lulu cuts out the middle man and gives the best royalties to the authors. 

Not for sale to children or the over sensitive, though; as if I needed to say!

Murder at the Scribbling Horse is available at Devizes Books for a reduced price of £20, and next Saturday 22nd November, I’ll be in the shop praying to the Norse god of biscuits someone might stop by and purchase a signed copy at the super reduced price of £20!

If you cannot make it, you can message me and I’ll personally deliver you a copy if you live locally. I still need to work out posting & packaging costs, so message me if it needs posting and I’ll let you know about that asap. Happy reading…well, I say that but do I really mean it, I mean, really?!

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“Don’t Drive to Stonehenge” Advises English Heritage!

Summer Solstice in Wiltshire; it’s a crowd-puller, but even forty years after the Battle of the Beanfield and decades of attempted commercialisation, it remains a tourism the authorities clearly don’t appreciate….. Wiltshire Police and English Heritage have ganged up on social media to warn revellers not to drive to Stonehenge or Avebury for this year’s…

Darren Worrow's avatar by Darren Worrow

Sketch and Explore: The Art of Embracing Imperfection

by Maddie Blake On Wednesday 10th of June at Devizes Arts Festival, we had the pleasure of a ‘Sketch and Explore’ workshop lead by Karen George, a contemporary artist. Karen is based near Bath, in the UK, and specialises in semi-abstract and contemporary painting of landscape and seascapes in acrylic and mixed media. This informal…

maddiblake8090's avatar by maddiblake8090

Talk in Code: The Big Screen

Talk in Code’s second album has been out a while, overdue to mention it……

January 2019, and I find myself making several eighties cultural references in reviewing Resolve, the debut album by Wiltshire’s own Talk in Code. A band which turned my aged preconceptions of the “indie” pigeonhole on its head.

For me, wedged in the nineties, imaginings of that somewhat depressing outlook of the riot-grrrl, the post-gothic period of indie my rave fixation required an abhorrence of by default. Though it was hardly mods and rockers in that era, as in we didn’t fight, “ravers” and “indie kids” simply didn’t recognise each other until the remerging of the crossover, through the likes of the Chemical Brothers and Prodigy, yet, reflecting, it was always there with Madchester and the progressive Primal Scream’s Screamadelica.

So, who’s up to debate it, does any of it matter now? I likely chewed the ears off of guitarist Alastair Sneddon on the most memorable occasion of a road trip with the band last March! We’re in a period where the trend is to cast-off that nineties flavour in favour of citing influences like U2 and Simple Minds, and I’m game for that, even if the band tend to name more modern inspirations.

The point is, Talk in Code build on this ethos, their sound ever strives towards it, ergo, everything after Resolve increasingly adds to this method, of its standout single Oxygen and its gorgeous dreamy emotions akin to a John Hughes soundtrack, and gradually onward. Yet somehow this panache isn’t regressive, forgive the eighties references, it’s retaining freshness in the contemporary, just allowing a serious nod toward early to mid-eighties feelgood pop.

It’s a fashion which Talk in Code hooked me onto bands like Longcoats, Daydream Runaways and Atari Pilot too, and a scene has developed to the point Swindon’s pop darlings are now Talk in Code; they played the Coleview Music Festival this weekend, entertained crowds during the interval of the Wildcats ice-hockey game at the Link, and generally, the excitement is consistently blossoming for them, and deservedly so.

Back on our outing to Portsmouth they stressed the importance of both gigs and recording, and since their connection to Regent Street Records, there was a keenness in the band to grab wider appeal in anticipation of the forthcoming album, The Big Screen. The release of it was pushed back to accommodate this collaboration but has been up-for-grabs since last month. Having already reviewed many of the tracks of singles I’ve been biding my time, apologies to Talk in Code, but here it is….

To begin, The Big Screen has had nearly as many singles coming off it as Jacko’s Bad, yet the comparisons end there. The opening title-track though, is exclusive, and it rings as the perfect intro as all the shaping I’ve described above. Illogical chronologically follows, their last single released, which I defined at the time as summing up “their undeviating style, upbeat and optimistic,” and suggested it was more danceable than the previous singles.

One of my personal favs follows, Talk Like That, came out back in January 2020, of which I suggested would “blow your diddy-boppers off!” Track four is Hindsight, an album track, perhaps, least one I haven’t heard of, but again, listening to it everything just falling so neatly into place. Talk in Code are so stylised, this flows as an album rather than a collection of singles, and nothing here will disappoint.

April 2020’s single Courage (Leave it Behind) is followed by a cooling new song, Someone Else’s Shoes, which takes on the Wham boys at their earlier best. This is a drifter, but yeah, I said Wham, I don’t know about you, but it got me reminiscing the greatness of Everything She Wants, a hidden gem of their discography often obscured by later hits.

But Save It returns to paced euphoric, and one can’t go wrong towards the finale, as the last three tracks are recently celebrated singles. The Molly Ringwald moment of Young Loves Dream, autumn during lockdown’s neon song Secret and ending on the summery Taste the Sun, dripping in fun, and sunshine…. club tropicana’s drinks are free, y’ know? And in that, a certain moreish finesse we’ve come to accept as standard from Talk in Code shines on.

In all, despite reviewing the singles as and when they were released, it’s worth revisiting as together in the compilation of The Big Screen, you can hear what I’ve been waffling on about with each and every single review, about the tightness of the band to create this uniformed joyous chic of universal pop appeal. Honest, in a Tardis, feels like you could pull out a Smash Hits poster of Talk in Code and blu-tac it to your wall, and your dad will approve. Whatever did happen to Terrence Trent D’Arby?!

Get the album here, s’ only seven quid.

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Milton Jones; Deadpan in Devizes

Mock the Week’s recurring panellist and Radio 4 comedian Milton Jones stood on the stage of Devizes Corn Exchange on Friday, with the setter, “it’s…

Let’s Go Swimming with Poppy Rose

Two years ago we fondly reviewed I’m Ready Now, a debut EP from Bath’s Poppy Rose. I praised her unique take, her thoughtful prose and…

On The Road With Talk in Code!

You know that millennial movie, Almost Famous, set mid-seventies, where Rolling Stone Magazine mistake a nerdy teenager for a music journalist and send him on the road with an outrageous prog-rock band? It was nothing like that. Neither did it resemble 200 Motels, where a man dressed as a vacuum cleaner convinces you Ringo Starr is actually Frank Zappa in some freaky acid flashback. But I did have an awesome adventure yesterday, on the road with local premier indie-pop favs, Talk in Code.…..

There were no campervans with CND slogans painted on the side-door, no sign of Goldie Hawn’s daughter unfortunately, and though my bubbles of anachronistic pre-imaginings burst, it allowed me to chart the regular labour of a touring band, rather than my usual practise of slouching up halfway through a performance with lame excuse. For if I’m going to write on the subject, I need to comprehend the inner workings, and the thoughts of a band going to a gig; even though I’m far from teenage music journalist with an advance from Rolling Stone!

So, by dinnertime I’m lone with guitarist Alastair Sneddon at the steering wheel, hereafter referred to as “Snedds,” with an amp case knocking in the rear of his car, and distracted by my inane waffling, weaving between musical subjects, badly following his sat-nav to Portsmouth.

Likely the eldest of this four-piece band, Snedds is a family man with a wealth of musical experience. He fondly recalls playing in cover bands, jazz and blues groups and our chat swifts across his past, musical influence brushing off on his children, current past gigs and local venues, to the importance, or insignificance of pop culture, the mainstream music industry and current trends of listening to music from streaming platforms to amplification to listening through phone speakers; we could’ve chatted all night on his passionate chosen subject, least it perceived to reduce the travel time.  

Before I knew it, we were awkwardly parked on a busy street in Southsea. Awash with cheesy club type pubs, restaurants, kebab houses and chippies, lies an equally misplaced theatre to our right, and a more traditional looking city tavern, The Lord John Russell, which will be our venue for the evening. Like a true roadie I felt a sense of haughtiness as I assisted lugging equipment through the already bustling pub; make way, yes, I’m with the band, ladies control yourselves!

But nothing felt ostentatious for the band as they amassed their kit in a corner, greeted each other and the promoter; here’s a tight working team despite the geographic distance between them. Talk in Code are part from Swindon, Reading and Devizes, but here they are with an excited air of anticipation brewing. There’s a trio of bands on tonight, Talk in Code are second on, while the first are already sound checking, locally based to Portsmouth, Southerlies are a seven-piece covers band, fusing Americana with punchy hooks into contemporary pop; they proficiently delivered their set with good male-female vocal harmonies, and being local I observe they attracted a fanbase.

Quite eclectic then, to switch to Talk in Code’s more electronica indie-pop, which as I discussed in the car with Snedds, perpetually seemed to fuse conventional nineties indie sound to a more inimitable eighties synth-pop style with every new tune. Yet tricker still was the notion the Talkers insist to play only their originals, which would be unknown to this rather heterogenous crowd. Besides, frontman Chris gets his fill of covers with the Britpop Boys.

Seems Friday live music nights are relatively new-fangled for the Lord John Russell, with a promoter keen to create the venture, the pub also adhered to cater for the pull on it’s street with screens showing sport and archetypical club music between acts. As much as market town pubs like Devizes’ Southgate work here, with a penchant for original live music and solely that, it wouldn’t work in this busy city location judging by the footfall. But a splendid, convivial and dynamic pub it was with a wide demographic.

One thing I was keen to gage from Talk in Code, the priorities and feelings towards playing a gig outside their usual stomping ground as opposed to returning to a venue like Swindon’s Victoria where a fanbase would be welcoming. They stressed the importance of both, and being their recent connection to Regent Street Records, there’s a keenness in the band to grab wider-appeal in anticipation of the forthcoming album. The release of which has been pushed back to accommodate this collaboration.

Still, all the band are united in praising recent local gigs, particularly Trowbridge Town Hall where they supported The Worried Men, and were keen to pick out the importance of the many locally-based festivals they’re booked at, from Minety to Live at Lydiard and IWild in Gloucestershire. And with appearances at places like Oxford’s HMV, things are really looking up for them post-lockdown.

And it’s easy to see why when they bounced on stage last night at the Lord John Russell, after their virtually nail-biting eagerness while the Southerlies launched into their final song, Chris already polishing his guitar and Snedds confessing the waiting game is a pet hate. A technical issue with leads to the backing tracks solved, the band applauded the previous and proficiently executed their thing, introducing themselves and delivering their songs with panache.

For me it was a blessing, being I’m aware of much of their discography, to finally get to witness them do it live, and had to stop to ponder their stage presence is as exhilarating as their recorded work. Yet, my view of the performance differed from the crowd as the band were likely new to them. Still, they got the place jumping, sprightlier, and louder than the previous band. They confessed a spirit of fair competition was unavoidable in them, yet affirmed their ethos to never do their set and bunk, in respect for other bands; Talk in Code come off as outgoing throughout and it was an honour to be welcomed into their web.

Also present, I spent time chatting connections, her background as music journalist and her fanzine making past, with manager Lyndsey. From Milton Keynes she avidly followed the group in their early years, falling in love with their sound it seemed only natural to mutually agree for her to manage. And part-time freelance photographer Helen, whose PolarPix Facebook page is dominated with Talk in Code shots. I put it to her she seems to have another band photographed then a Talk in Code one, then another Talk in Code one, then another random band. She acknowledged most of the other bands were on the same bill as TIC! A true “Talker,” as is their fanbase appellation.

Percival Elliott

A pleasant change from trudging the local circuit, as the finale was a euphoric rock band named Percival Elliott, who, with barefoot frontman on keys, executed a sublime set, the like you’d want Coldplay to achieve. In many ways here was a band apt for our own fond venues such as aforementioned Southgate and Trowbridge Town Hall. Without boast, coming highly recommended by yours truly occasionally has some clout, though there was part of me who, if in control of this triple-bill, would’ve put Talk in Code as the final band, being more upbeat popish.

We give no more review of The Lord John Russell for the sake of it being outside our boundaries, but if you’re Pompy bound this would be an ideal pub to consider, offering a variety of free live music dates on Fridays. Now I’m home, unpacked my Peppa Pig bucket and spade, but while I unfortunately didn’t see the seaside, or Kate Hudson, I was in good company with a band which goes from strength-to-strength.  

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Manning Lifeboats, In Devizes!

Manning the lifeboats with Devizes Arts Festival in landlocked Devizes last night, and I didn’t even get a sticker. I did shake a tailfeather out…

Devizes; Full of Scummy Mummies!

Guys out on “the pull” on Thursday in Devizes were cut short. The Scummy Mummies were back in town, and you’ve never heard so many…