...waiting for the copy edits...

So, I'm learning that publishers run on that other time too. The date for my copy edits for Tail of The Blue Bird, has been pushed back twice, and it's very frustrating because I set time aside to go through the edits and get them back so that work can begin on the advance copies of the book. Now, some of you might be wondering what advance copies are or do exactly in publishing. In short they are the first blast of real excitement a writer gets after the book deal - essentially a finished version of your book, complete with a cover design and the final layout is printed almost a year in advance and sent out to the media, famous writers etc. etc. so that radios, newspapers and magazines can start scheduling you for interviews (if they think you/your work are interesting), writers can give you endorsements, and bookstores can make orders - all the things that trigger those quotes that appear on books that make everyone wonder - 'how come the book's only been out two days and they already have that printed on it?' In my case, the struggle to find a publisher because of the unusual (not my word) nature of the book means that luckily (or unluckily) I already have quotes from authors who endorsed the work so that potential publishers would realise that the book was considered good by my peers - I am proudest of my endorsements from Helon Habila, whose work I've been a long-time admirer of, and Courttia Newland, who was one of my early mentors in prose...

Anyway, back to the delay on my copy edits, very frustrating etc etc, but I have been making good use of the time; last week I recorded an excerpt for a fairly new BBC World Service programme called The Forum, and took part in a panel discussion of some of the ideas in the book, and stuff like whether or not Islamic Law is ethical and whether Plato had the right ideas about erotic love in his 'Symposium'. It was supremely interesting (I'll let you know when THEY let me know when it will be broadcast), but the publicity department at my publishers said - oh, couldn't it have been next year? everyone would have forgotten by the time the book comes out! Ah, YE publishers of little faith; haven't you heard about gossip, the bush fire media, alata wire tap, abusua radio, or, for the wine drinkers, the grapevine...? [BTW I welcome comments from my West African readers for any more phrases that exist to describe gossip - it's funny how the mind goes blank sometimes...]

Bottom line is, I'm not completely bored. I even had occasion to celebrate the fact that one of the books I edited last year - 29 Ways to Drown by Niki Aguirre - made it to the longlist of the Frank O'Connor Short Story Prize and was reviewed in today's SUN newspaper (the UK crew will understand the significance of this - it has a circulation of 3 million and pictures of half naked women on Page 3 i.e. West-European-naked, just breasts, which is fully clothed at some of the markets I went to in Cape Coast - over here people get excited when a woman breast feeds in public - as my Naija crew would say, ah ah!)

On that half-clothed note, I bid you adieu, or rather au revoir...

what i'm reading/listening to

listening:
Smokey Robinson & D'Angelo - I have entire folders of their work on my laptop and I have them on loop - I'm in a chilled summer mood...

reading:
Rose by Li Young Lee (something to relax) and Land of our Birth by Ainsley Burrows (something I'm editing)

Poetry Review Comment/Poem

Those of you who know me will know I'm one of those poetechs/wiredwriters who is intermittently plugging in to technology - blame it on my two engineer brothers and (of course) my own background in physics/biochemistry/microbiology and the rarely-confessed four hours programming on my friend Ebow's ZX Spectrum when I got so fascinated by the things I could get the computer to do and record on tape - yes, tape! - that I got home late and got my arse acquainted with a lost branch from some random water-starved tree in Accra. Anyway, that's a long roundabout way of saying I put my name in a google alert and got this little nugget from a blog about my poem in the Poetry Review:

"However, there is surprising news for today - I've just finished reading the latest "Poetry Review" magazine and it's the first time I've closed the final pages and haven't wondered what on earth all the fuss was about. Not a bad edition really - an undercurrent of pretention here and there of course, but at that level you probably have to expect it. There were some poems I even enjoyed (Good God, Carruthers, pass me the smellings salts: the words "enjoy" and "Poetry Review" have never been in the same paragraph before). I will even go so far as to say I noted some poets and their collections down on my buying list. Particular favourites were Siriol Troup for being charmingly Japanese about WH Auden (ah, the story is in the spaces, m'dear ...), Hugo Williams for being charmingly Victorian, Nii Ayikwei Parkes for putting the people back into politics, and Jane Draycott for a wonderful scene of miscommunication. Also nice to see my old favourite, Neil Rollinson, in there. Though they were rather snippety about his latest collection, Demolition. Hey, I didn't think it was that bad. Not vintage Rollinson for sure, but not terrible!" - the blog is Anne Brooke's Writing Journal

Putting 'the people back into politics' - I thought, yeah, that's probably an accurate description of what I try to do, but whether or not I'm successful is always up to the reader - it's just good to know that occasionally people feel what I'm trying to say - on that note, here's an excerpt from the poem for those of you who haven't had the chance to pick up the review (On Pleasure):

Lebanon was in a shade of peace – stilled
from war – and regardless of what anyone said
about you, I had never heard a name so

beautiful; Sajeeda. Late afternoon, we held

hands by the gutter as we walked to our
secret haunt. Above the graveyard of cars,
our seven year old bodies twisted into

the rust and glass cage of a Nissan Sunny –
forsaken. Nested, we didn’t consider the odds
of dropping like dislodged eggs. In that

strange skyscraper of scrap – a monument
to your mechanic father’s failures, the precise
shape of the green tree in his flag – we

solemnly undressed, as one. We embraced

More information on the issue here

and that's it for today :)

Little Pleasures

I haven't blogged in a while, I haven't listened to NEW music in a while, I haven't invented a new recipe in a while - it's been that kind of year. I spent most of January and February in my editorial role for flipped eye publishing editing work for three of my favourite poets - Ainsley Burrows, Agnes Meadows, Charlotte Ansell - and ended the month of February with a celebration event called reaching the 10000, marking a slaes landmark for flipped eye.

But before the end of Feb I went to see Junot Diaz at the Royal Festival Hall and got my copy of the brilliant The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao signed. The book has now joined others on my shelf and it just hit me that about 20-30% of the books I've bought/received in the last year have been signed. Is this the real pleasure of being a writer - that you know/meet so many writers that you get a good chunk of your books signed - and free, even? I don't think so - what I get from those books, really, is inspriration, because I only get books signed by authors I admire - every one of those books is a reminder, a klaxon, a broken record stuck on the word write, write, write, write....

[Oh, started a new notepad for my teaching stuff...]

the wake of change

The last time I blogged Sekou Sundiata had just died. Since then, another literary man - one of my Ghanaian predecessors - Kwesi Brew, has passed on. It's been a period full of mourning, wakes and wakefulness. In the Ga tradition we believe that when someone goes to the other side someone takes on their role in this world, so my thoughts have now turned to the replacements, the poets who will take on the roles, the public voids left by the departure of Sekou and Kwesi. Of course, the replacements will have to carry on being themselves, but better, more elevated selves so that some other emerging writers can become their lesser selves, and so the world adjusts. I will blog on that subject - the idea of who replaces Sekou and Kwesi - later, but for now I remain mindful that in the midst of chaos, there is always cause for celebration and how true that has turned out to be! One of my other poet idols, Charles Simic, has been made Poet Laureate of the United States and I'm ecstatic because he is truly a rare, unconventional and brilliant poet. His book A Wedding in Hell is one of my favourite poetry books along with a few Nerudas and Heaneys, Li Young Lee's The City in Which I Love You and Atukwei Okai's Oath of the Frontomfrom (of course I love all the writers I have edited for waterways and mouthmark but that's another story). Anyway, you can read a poem by Simic on the online version of the New Yorker...

While you're online reading, check out this lovely list of fifty new African writers to watch that I'm privileged to be on... and also go to the Writers Fund Amazon wish list and buy something for the project I'm running in Ghana. I've already got quite a bit lined up but not much in the way of these much-needed books for the Writers' Centre I'm helping set up at the Pan African Writers Association building in Accra. I'm heading out there soon to run some workshops and do some work on the ground so it would be great if a few books turned up while I was there.

Anyway, I'd better go and sleep, but I promise to be a better blogger this August!

what i'm reading/listening to

listening:
Internal Affairs by Pharoahe Monch

All I can say about Pharoahe is he's irreverent, but artistic as hell. His wordplay makes every swear word worth listening to, because each one has a purpose. Great sense of plot too; his storytelling skills would put many a short story writer to shame and, of course, he rhymes as though Queen's needs his end rhyme to build houses with and his internal rhyme to put fuel in their cars. The Mrs and I saw him live in London last month and his new album, Desire, sounded wonderful live. Probably worth checking out too...

reading:
A Heart So White by Javier Marias:

This book was recommended to me by a good friend, Hisham. It is heavy with detail in every scene, moments in which the author pauses to interrogate the world, but it all adds up to make a great story. I'm almost done now...

News Source: Guardian (for Simic announcemnt)

NIN

No, it's not Nine-Inch-Nails, it's Nii in the News :)

Just thought I'd share a review from my hard slog at the Brighton Fest:

Wordplay
Nii Parkes
Trying to get kids into Yeats is a tough job, so although Parkes did his best, his own poems about his mum were far more popular with this crowd. Plenty of fun exercises filled this hour-long workshop, with the children briefly discussing their views on poetry (primarily that it should rhyme) before getting stuck into creating poems about themselves and their passions (primarily chicken nuggets). An interesting task saw them learn about writing from the subconscious, signified by an aggressive green lollipop stick. The children obviously had fun being creative, but the session was far too short to really get into much depth on the subject - yet even a short handover makes a welcome break for parents, and Parkes makes a relaxed and inspiring tutor.

(from threeweeks.co.uk)

In the meantime my poem appears on the underground on Monday June 4 (date of the first coup I experienced in Ghana) and there have been some related press releases:

http://www.tfl.gov.uk/corporate/media/newscentre/5221.aspx
http://www.poetrysoc.com/content/education/potu/

And I have come into my own as a contemporary writer:
http://www.contemporarywriters.com/

Finally, I came upon a wikipedia Germany entry for me which I googleated (google-translated) for fun, and it was delicious to find out what gets a rise out of me:
Nii Ayikwei Parkes is a Ghanaian writer and artist, who write Kurzgeschichten, articles, song texts and also RAP. Parkes lives and works at present in London, where he arises to literature also in a Café. Its work has an emphasis in the youth culture, since Parkes works gladly with children and young people.

a table is not a writing desk

i'm supposed to be editing, but sometimes this is what happens :) luther vandross, i miss you...

what i'm reading/listening to

listening:

what's with the dollar bill?

So, I visited a workshop and the students were asked to find a photograph and write something in the style of Lloyd Schwartz's (great critic) Tom Joanides: Which of these statements is true? Being a writer, I could only get my hands on a dollar bill - George Washington - and this is what came out:

Georgie, what's the deal really?

(a) I don't like smiling (b) I'm not smiling because I'm sitting
on hot coals (c) My mother styled my hair after a wave
that nearly drowned her (d) My mirror broke and I needed my friend
to etch me so I could see myself (e) I designed my own clothes using curtains
(f) I love fashion; my favourite colours are black and green (g) I'm a highlander;
there can be only one me (h) I'm a tender person, but don't be misled -
I'll break your back (i) I'm an illegal immigrant with private and public
debts (j) I slept with Faulkner (k) I'm so powerful they named a city
after me (l) Rappers yank my chain (m) Don't let the print fool you;
I'm Black (n) You can wake up now.

OK, you all have a good day now. I will be back to normal (whatever that is!) blogging duties soon :)

what i'm reading/listening to

listening:

Just got myself a little mp3 player and I'm listening to a post-supper mix of Marvin Gaye, Amel Larrieux, Van Hunt and Amy Winehouse. For lunch I had B.B. King and Jimi Hendrix; The Thrill was definitely in the Red House :)

reading:

Recently finished Andrei Makine's "The Woman Who Waited", which was good, but I'm in writing mode now - commercial - I have to finish some articles I've been asked to write.

he what? he stinks?

This has got to be a cool moment - my writing buddy, Niki Aguirre, who blogs on the virtual onion has gone and shown what's beneath my feathers by 'nomination' me for the thinking blogger award. Now I'm not saying I don't think, but I stink at reading blogs. I read a few to amuse myself, but to nominate five that make me think, when Niki has already stolen almost all the blogs I read is criminal. Anyway, I will try....

1. For general thought and 'dopeness' - Koranteng's Toli
2. For diverse musical stimulation - DJ Durutti
3. For book-type thinking & tidbits - Ready Steady Book, Editor's blog
4. For writer's perspective book stuff - Laila Lalami
5. and when he's not too busy tipping points - Malcolm Gladwell

I guess I have to go and let some of these people know I've marked them for life. Oh no! Shea it ain't so (more on this Shea stuff in my next blog!)

what i'm reading/listening to

I'm reading London Book Fair gossip, hoping to find that my novel has been sold, and I'm listening to Don Cherry's Symphony for Improvisors (read a review)

birthday, no blues

my roman-symmetrical birthday came and i felt no blues - except for the moment i stopped to remember how marvin gaye died on my 10th birthday. i even wrote a haiku in the morning - a sign that my zen is maturing:

barrage of goosebumps
a corporeal down payment
for afternoon sun

otherwise, all goes well in California. i visited a remarkable middle school, Nimitz in Huntington Park, CA as part of the university's outreach programme and had the fullest day ever - from 7:25 until 15:13 reading poetry, running workshops, answering questions - i was completely hoarse when i got home. but, to balance that i had ice cream yesterday - cold stone creamery in long beach, CA - it was sooo good (see their website for pictures :)). i made my own mix of banana/coffee ice cream with pecan nuts, almonds and caramel, with the thickest crunchiest waffle ever

and who said we have to age gracefully? here's to 33 going on 3

my article of the week: chavez boosts chomsky sales

In summary, Chavez does an Oprah: he appears at the UN asking Americans to read Chomsky's book 'Hegemony or Survival: America's Quest for Global Dominance' ("because their threat is right in their own house") and sales go through the roof. Full story at: http://books.guardian.co.uk/news/articles/0,,1880226,00.html (Guardian Online)

:)

where in the world...

...is Carmen Sandiego? OK, don't tell me I'm the only one who played that game; it was probably the first (and only) video game I played [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carmen_Sandiego ] - Anyway, I feel like her right now because I haven't had a moment in one spot for ages. I'll be back though. The good thing about moving about it that it gives you great ideas for writing and loads of useful useless info. For example, I was 'punting' in Cambridge and the boat/barge/punt builder told me there was no fish in the water for years 'cos it was so polluted (the fish are jumping like summertime again, thanks to an EU grant to clean it up), and it makes you wonder - what exactly were those Cambridge kids doing to pollute the water so much?? Just kidding, it was industrial waste - or was it?

Next big event:
Bringing the House Down www.myspace.com/bringingthehousedown

Listening to:
Hugh Masekela

missed stops

So i'm in NYC, we had a great book launch for Truth Thomas' Party of Black at the Bowery Poetry Club and I've been trying to relax and write. Verdict? I've still got the writing blues, but it's only affecting my prose, not the poetry. I guess I'll have to go with that. I cheered myself up today by doing what I often do when I'm with my Mom... Oh yeah, I've been hanging with my Mom for 8 days straight: nothing like riding a cross-state bus with your mother. It kind of tells you if you've been raised right or not. If you can't have a conversation, something went wrong between breast milk and moving out. I'm proud to say Mom & I have had a blast - laughing at people, debating post-natal depression (Mom's a retired midwife), and trying not to spend too much money, which has been surprisingly easy considering that my mother loves shoes the way she does... So, where was I? I googled myself (that's how I prove to her I haven't been wasting my time) and I am still tickled to find that a Manchester student rag saw me perform with Dead Prez and thought my set was the most moving of the night (link here) but the coolest link is my British Council/CalStateLa residency link http://www.calstatela.edu/academic/english/nparkes.htm YES, I HAVE ARRIVED! Now, who wants to take bets on how long it takes before I'm feeling low again?

Here's one of my poems:

Lapse

The Greyhound is late. I’ve been fast
asleep too long to know why, but the man
beside me – Chinese – tells me what time it is.

He turns to the back-lit maze of his phone, taps
a geometry of buttons, gets lost in an exchange
about auditions and lost opportunities. I look

across the aisle: the big guy with the Yankees
cap has struck up a dialogue with the Polish
woman beside him. Her dark eyebrows arch –

an eager pair – in synch under her blond hail; I can
tell she’s open; so is he, but he’s fearful, hasn’t
yet learnt the curved asymmetry of lust. There is

already a lapse between her keenness, his lean
and the speed of his initiative. Somebody should
tell him that if the lapse grows any longer

the door of chance will close – snap in
his face. It’s already too late. The bus is
drifting into Harlem, Connecticut a distant memory:

I hear him say excuse me, he calls his Mom. A pink
rose blooms on the woman’s cheek, she looks
outside. I hang my head, exhale, and close

my eyes. The man beside me snaps his phone shut.

on the road

So, you would think that a wedding getaway/holiday that started with some asshole (hereinafter known as Mr A) jumping a queue I'd been in for 30 minutes just because he was in business class could only go downhill. Well, I walked up to him and told him what I thought of him, and he wasn't at all repentant - the weird thing was the airline apologised for him! What? I asked the airline, to his hearing - of course - if it was fine for him to act like a jerk and have them apologise but they went quiet. So, the septuagenarian couple in front of me had to wait for Mr A to get checked in, but what was sweet was the couple and I became good travel buddies and Mr A couldn't look anyone in the eye for the entire flight - delicious 9 hour payback.

Anyway, it all got better... once on the plane it hit me how some things have become obsolete in my short lifetime - pretty wild to think about! One of them is airline ashtrays, and the whole idea of smoking on airplanes. The sight of all those glued-shut ashtrays just reminds you how old most planes are, but think about how far we've come: you could actually have lighters, lighter fuel, tobacco, smoke... all that good stuff up there in the air, and now you're not even allowed to carry a bottle of water to your seat - of course the duty-free shops are cleaning up :) There's always a good financial angle to all these alerts, prohibitions, curtailments of rights... I saw a guy who was transferring flights get stripped of two bottles of whiskey in Switzerland, yet he'd just bought them in duty-free and hadn't been warned. I see a whole new recycling sale industry developing... Biggest irony though? While we were limited to the tiniest carry on bags ever, the people who boarded in Switzerland seemed to have huge bags; a Jewish guy - of the big beard and long curly lock crew - on the plane even reached into his bag to get Pringles and - oh my God! - juice!! See how stupid it sounds that we were all staring open-mouthed at a guy becasue he took juice out of his carry on bag? But then again, two guys were thrown off a plane just for looking a certain way. I wonder what would have happened if they had reached into their bags for a bottle of fresh juice...

Shopping: I just found out that this really forward thinking basketball star - Stephon Marbury - started his own clothing label so young boys could have cool gear for less and not have to resort to crime to look fly. The label is called starbury (starbury.com) and they sell basketball shoes for $14.98, work boots for £9.98 and most of their other gear for $9.98. Of course I had to support the cause so I hooked my self up in Connecticut. Otherwise, I've been good!

The other great thing is because I'm here for family I've been road-tripping with my Mom and, man, have I been asleep with this writing stuff. Things have been going on around me and I have no idea; it's good to catch up...

Later.

what i'm reading/listening to

listening:
Woyaya by Osibisa

reading:
my own stuff to realign my writing in progess :)

imho - lmao

Can I just say, what is a humble opinion?? Think about it; if you have an opinion you already feel pretty good about yourself or what you're thinking - humility doesn't come into it. Respect, maybe... but humility? IMHO - In My Humble Opinion - Has no one ever wondered why the expression only exists in English? It's a typical English sucker-punch-type expression that allows one to kiss ass and speak their minds at the same time... of course, if you think that it originated from England and England still has 'the Royals' it makes a bit of sense. How do you advise someone who has the right to behead you at any time? Aha! In my own proud language of Ga, equivalent expressions for speaking one's mind are as clear as 'if I look' (ke mi kwe) or 'i don't feel that way'/ - more literally- 'it doesn't do me that way' (e fee mi nakai), in French it's 'a mon avis' - nobody puts humble in the mix except the English. Anyway, I've been thinking about the antidote for weeks, and it's another internet favourite: LMAO - Laughing My Ass Off (or in Ghana LMBO, where B=Buttocks!). The trick is once you laugh your ass off there is nothing left to kiss so IMHO can go bury itself!

So, I've been away beavering at a new interface for the Tell Tales site to restore interactivity after a long time away. The new link is at http://www.telltales.co.uk/tt_cafe/


Interesting stuff I've read over the last couple of days, are the use of the rings from female condoms as bangles in Ghana (link here). I mean, how can you not love a country where the mathematics of birth control can be turned into a distinct, economical fashion advantage, manipulated to ignite the chemistry of attraction and head back into the whirlwind of sexual activity. See, for years we've replaced the fan belts in our cars with stockings, created stretch limos by putting two halves of separate cars together... why would anyone be surprised that our women are so creative! The other thing I read is a perfect example of how a film might later be made about how a woman used the rings from female condoms to start a fashion empire BUT they just might forget to say she was from Ghana :) All hail Oliver Stone's World Trade Center, where a black ex-marine who helped save lives on September 11 was cast as a white man :) Well, I understand; there just aren't enough jobs out there for the struggling white actors in Hollywood (link here)

I'm listening to the poet - Bobby Womack - 'cos he's a lyrical mack with one of the most amazing voices in the world and I'm reading Roald Dahl 'cos I'm writing some kiddie stuff and Roald had that down! Speaking of kiddies, it's well past my bedtime - I need to go get my Horlicks and snoozzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

what i'm reading/listening to

listening:
The Poet by Bobby Womack

reading:
Esio Trot by Roald Dahl

it's called a break

been relaxing for the first time in like 7 years, buying baby stuff with one of my best friends who is going to be a father in september (babies are expensive business here!), and just talking - 'bout relationships, trust, and how impossible it is to explain to someone that you're faithful when you've never tried to cheat; see it's always the cheats that have their stories ready :) oh, the delicious ironies of life! anyway, we've been listening to raul midon and a whole heap of robert cray 'cos my boy is a guitarist - we used to write songs together but we haven't even sat down to share music for a while. this was my way of saying, we've been drifting, but here's some stuff i know you missed that i know you'll love. and guess what? i was right. so, are friends more predictable than the opposite sex? ha, ha, yes, it's a conundrum for these modern times - gotcha!